#more suitable for Chinese baby

[xinyidecor]

After falling in love with the new Chinese style, I completely realized it! ! The new Chinese aesthetics that make people fall, and I am no exception

[moononmyfloor]

Dashing Youth Ep 11-16 Commentary

Ep 1-10, Ep 17-21, Ep 22-25, Ep 26-32, Ep 33-35, Ep 36-40

Ep 11

More flirting

We meet Xiao Se's nasty Emperor dad in his youth, played by the lovely Fan Jinwei, whose Prince Chong I loved in BoY. Not sure if I'm prepared to hate him this time. He looks good tho!

We also meet Wu Xin' mom, who looks like a fractured wistful early-morning dream which is about to float away and dissappear with the slightest breath, never to be found again.

And Luo Qingyang, (not to be confused with everyone's favorite girl crush Mianmian from The Untamed), the angry repressed big finale martial artist from BoY

Ep 12

I love the super powerful but easily spooked wooden sword wielding Mt. Wangcheng disciple, kid you *really* don't need to try study under Master Li, just because he's "the" shifu doesn't mean he's better. He will teach you nothing and isn't batting an eye at his exam candidates dying right under his eyes. Srsly, Mt. Wangcheng, the Lei family and Changfeng's Medicine Shifu's Valley seem to be the only places suitable to bring up well-adjusted, grounded kids in this universe.

Dual cultivating right in front of future wife's salad

Damn his gaze is somehow piercing but indifferent at the same time

(He's gonna explode and die in the future isn't he) Also see, this is what I mean. Most of the shifus in this universe are no good at teaching and guidance. These kids in their youthful vigor and angst are extremely volatile and you all just let them run rampant. They are easily suspectible to being used by bad forces and eventually create massive tragedies for themselves and everyone else.

Well I suppose Dongjun's first shifu was a great guy but 1. He didn't have enough time 2. Even if he did he was dying and sustaining himself in a contained bubble and what he could teach Dongjun about the world was quite limited.

Ahaha I have the exact same pouch! It's a cheap Aliexpress delivery pouch I got a ring sent in

Ep 13

Omg she's TOO CUTE! This young lady and Baba from JoL2 are the prettiet babies I've seen this year!

Local playboy realises his boyfriend from alt universe is happily married and has chosen to live a stress free life, the new boyfriend has ditched him for his future child's mom, his old boyfriend is away in a Detox Vacation and realises his carefree childhood has come to its end 😔

Dongjun:

Also I'm actually kinda surprised to find myself shipping this tragic pair of Dingzhi/Wenjun, and shipping HARD at that. I don't know what I expected but by the the time of BoY, all that remains about their relationship is a sordid gossip but they actually turn out to be two broken lil kids🥺 They don't even have like, a hot and hormonal romance but a one built on sweet childhood promises of protecting his little meimei and caring for her Yun gege. Poor babies😭

Ep 14

Liu Yue thinks he hides it well behind his hat but dude is practically bursting at seams for having gotten a disciple, and he's basically teaching Yue Yao how to flex well and never embarrass herself, which in addition would embarrass himself lol. He also seems to be kinda lonely and bored despite his quirky lil maid and broody bf. It's like he was born to be a social butterfly but with his current social status he cannot.

Inaccurately accurate MTL 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

(Also this is so funny to me with the context that I've read the "lifting the hijab" mtl line in lots of Chinese fics where the couple gets married and that red veil lifting thing happens on the marrige bed lol.)

Dingzhi's master seems to be just as traumatised by life as Dingzhi is. Huang Yi lasohi is actually so good in roles like this. Also can we have an applause for the first genderqueer character in the show woohoo

And then the two shifus have a date about their duel, lol

Ep 15

Baili Dongjun gotta be the naivest ML I've encountered in a while, and by naive I mean beyond the levels of your average innocent, inexperienced teen full of sunlight and getting jaded overtime such as Fang Duobing, Wu Xie, Zhang Chulan etc.

Dongjun has grown up so sheltered and full of positivity, he doesn't seem to register the gravity of things even when they are right in front of his face almost to the point of stupidity.

He provides a stark contrast against his friends, Sikong Changfeng who's been the sweetest but also most down-to-earth kid to begin with and Ye Dingzhi who's been dealing with the weight of the whole world since childhood.

That part where Dongjun saw the arrest warrant for Dingzhi who also turned out to be his long lost bff, was told by his elders that they'll take care of the matter and will bring Dingzhi to him, Dongjun was just like "Ok cool! That's settled then! I'm gonna just chill and have a drink with my new girlfriend then!" was almost funny but sad because,

Kid, you are going to be in a WORLD of hurt VERY soon. You trust strangers way too much!

I mean in BoY you see how severely Dongjun has crashed to the point of wanting to create a broth of oblivion..... I can totally see how that happened.

Also that poster is a severe injustice to Dingzhi's GORGEOUS face lmao

Ep 16

I mostly have opinions about Master Li in this ep, which I compiled in a seperate post linked above

Also my bb Changfeng is back! And straight away he also joined the baby making game, and Dongjun has no choice but to be a good wingman to his bros at this point lmao

Changfeng chose the most comparatively normal and mundane romance arc too. She's the top courtesan for sure but still, for many young gentry she wouldn't have been anymore worth than a fling, but Changfeng just went ahead and offered her the most genuine, authentic companionship ever without a second of hesitation. And walked out head held high, with ZERO idea about how suave and sexy it made him and I'm like:

5/5 Stars No Drama

[shocktrooper262-blog]

Type 79 SMG, Short Dev and History. History: In August 1965, the People's Liberation Army (PLA) General Staff Department issued a requirement for a weapon that could be used by the Chinese military in a jungle environment.

Now, early Communist China is not the *most* stable place to be making new guns and so of course the Cultural Revolution messes with it in 66, which leads them to cancel the development till 1969. The 208th Institute's researchers stay in the good graces of the CCP, and mostly work on other projects at this time. In 1970, the PLA Staff requested the development of an easy-to-carry weapon suitable for use by reconnaissance, communications, artillery, airborne and other specialized units, as well as public security personnel. And so the Type 79 is brought back from the dead. So now the 208th Institute can get back to their baby. Notably, it was in trials (internal ones) from 71 to 78, they had to work out barrel erosion and pressures since they were firing spicy 7.62 tok (steel cored ammo). 100 test guns were handed out to troops in 1975, and the 208th Institute continued working on it. More working, mostly with the magazine reliability. (At this point someone from the Air Force borrowed the gun's designs and made a copy for Lin Biao's coup attempt, but that and the other coup attempt are stories for another time.) it is now 1978, the date of the final trials in which the Type 79 finally is accepted for general service in the following year, and it's service is not great in Vietnam's jungles so they do the normal thing and pass the guns to troops in urban fighting and to the People's Armed Police- where the gun does much better and has a great reputation as they mostly use it in semi auto and have less issues with mags and humidity. Design Details: The 208th Institute went with a short-stroke piston, closed rotating bolt because the felt it was the easiest thing to make jungle proof and they would have been right, had the design team actually been trusted to only make that one project and left to it, instead of being moved around and messed with. Later Type 79 SMGs do better in the jungle, but at that point dedicated replacements are either already out or older guns like the Type 54 SMG (PPS variant) have been brought back and are doing fine in that role.

[ejzah]

hi! can i do a prompt request? I was just watching early seasons densi and thinking about how cute kensi is with monty and was thinking about how much deeks must've fell even more in love with kensi after seeing her being so cute with his baby hahaha so if you could write a little drabble of his inner thoughts while seeing her with monty i think it would turn up really cute!! btw, i really love your writing of these two, thank you 🤍🤍

A/N: I wasn’t sure if this was referencing a canon moment, but I decided to create my own. I also took this to mean early in the series, so it is set season 3ish. I hope you enjoy!

***

Woman’s Best Friend

“I’m telling you, Kensilina, you watch Moulin Rouge and your life will never be the same,” Deeks insisted as he unlocked his apartment door, a bag of takeout tucked under his arm. Kensi stood behind with their dessert.

“Yeah, that’s what you said about Hello, Dolly! too. I had the lyrics to “Before the Parade Passes By” stuck in my head for a week,” she replied grimly.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Winking at her, he pushed the door open and they were immediately greeted by an enthusiastic Monty. He gave Deeks a greeting lick to the knee, moving past him to jump at Kensi.

“Monty, down,” Deeks admonished softly and Monty immediately dropped down, looking suitably chastised. “Sorry, he usually has better manners than this, but I guess he’s excited to see you.”

“It’s ok,” Kensi said, stooping to rub the top of Monty’s shaggy head. “I see you’re in need of a haircut like your father.” She looked up with a smug grin.

“Hey now, I’ve had no complaints from the ladies.”

“Oh my god, ew.” Kensi pulled a face as expected, still petting Monty, who’d rolled over on his stomach, his head lolling to the side with a look of absolute delight.

“Ok Mont, let Kensi get up.”

Monty whined softly in protest, but got up and padded into the den where his bed sat next to the couch.

“That’s the most energetic he’s been in years,” he commented, shaking his head.

While Kensi fixed dinner—dumped Chinese onto plates and grabbed beers from his fridge—Deeks dug out his copy of Moulin Rouge. When they were all settled in on the couch, Monty raised his head, sniffing hopefully in their direction.

“Uh-uh, buddy. Sorry, but you know the rules. You stay off the couch when guests are over,” he told Monty, who dropped his head mournfully.

“Oh, I don’t mind,” Kensi said, holding her hand out to him. Monty gave Deeks a brief look, then immediately ran over to her, hopping up l tl the couch between them,

“Alright then,” Deeks muttered, starting the movie.

About an hour later, Kensi’s eyes were glued to the screen as Christian and Satine’s tragic love story unfolded, a mostly empty plate on one side of her lap and Monty’s head on the other. Snuggled between them, Monty made the occasional sound of contentment as she stroked his head and back.

The other times Kensi had been over, Monty had been asleep or been too skittish to come out, so this was something of a revelation. Just like Deeks, Monty didn’t always get the best treatment based on his looks. It made Deeks’ heart swell a little bit to see Kensi love on him.

As he watched, Kensi bent down and kissed Monty’s head, ruffling his hair as she lifted her head.

“What?” she asked; it hadn’t even occurred to him to look away. Self-consciously, she wiped under her lip and glanced down at her shirt.

“Nothing. I just noticed you haven’t complained about the movie once,” he hedged. “You must like it.”

“Well, Ewan McGregor is cute and “Come What May” isn’t bad. The rest is a little weird though.”

“Sounds like a ringing endorsement to me.” Deeks grinned at her, and she rolled her eyes, reaching for another beer.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Deeks. Monty and I are withholding judgment for now,” she said firmly.

Deeks chuckled to himself, not commenting on the way Kensi tugged Monty into her side.

His partner was an absolute softie. And god did he love that about her.

***

A/N: Hope this was suitably fluffy and in the theme of what you pictured.

Thanks for the prompt!

[hareofhrair]

Love this addition! I'm not surprised she works a lot with Chinese parents, since in some Chinese cultures consulting someone about baby names is very traditional! Some parents go to professional fortune tellers who suggest suitable names based on the baby's astrological chart-- it gets VERY in depth and complicated, thus the need for a professional. If someone was having a run of very bad luck, they might even go to a fortune teller to have their name changed in hopes of fixing the problem.

Family or community elders might also be consulted for auspicious names, and to ensure a name the parents are considering might not be accidentally stepping on a taboo, like reusing the name of a relative or ancestor, or using a homonym for something negative.

And they're hardly the only ones! Lots of cultures that put symbolic significance on names value consulting with other people about it. Honestly, Americans/the English are more unusual for how little thought we put into naming, and even for us it's a recent development. American Puritans famously used to search the bible for names that represented positive traits they wanted their children to grow up with, such as Honesty, or Prudence (or Fleeing from Adultery). And in a time when literacy was pretty low, that probably meant consulting with someone who could actually read the bible!

Basically, this lady is occupying a very old job that used to be reserved for the most respected members of the community!

I wish this was my job.

[522story]

P34 Preparing for Baby AnAn

On the day of our one-year love commemoration, we are trying to prepare to have a baby who already has a nickname "AnAn". In Chinese, it means peace and quietness. We got this name because of a sentence in the Bible, “In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and in trust shall be your strength.” We hope the kid can rest in God and have strength from God.

And today we went to the hospital to ask what items we need to pay attention to. The doctor told us about healthy eating and trying to do sports for more than 150 minutes per week. And I searched for a healthy daily diet, which means I need to eat less wheat flour and rice. Instead, I need to eat more coarse grains. So I need to try to prepare some coarse grains every day. Even I will weigh myself every week to keep it in a good range. Let's try…. to be healthy.

----- other suggest ---

We also started looking into suitable baby products and comparing different brands. It's quite overwhelming with all the choices available. We decided to make a checklist to keep track of the necessary items. Moreover, we began to save money for the upcoming expenses related to the baby. Preparing for a baby involves not only physical but also mental and emotional readiness. We are trying to create a peaceful and loving environment at home, imagining how our lives will change with the arrival of our little one. We are reading parenting books and attending prenatal classes to gain more knowledge and skills. Let's try our best to be well-prepared for this new and exciting journey of parenthood.

[meheroberoidesigns123]

The Art and Emotion of Gift Wrapping Papers

Gift wrapping papers are much more than just decorative covers; they are an expression of love, care, and thoughtfulness. They transform a simple gift into a delightful surprise, adding an extra layer of excitement and anticipation. In this article, we explore the world of gift wrapping papers, delving into their varieties, cultural significance, and the emotional impact they carry.

Varieties of Gift Wrapping Papers

Traditional Wrapping Papers

Solid Colors: Simple yet elegant, solid-colored papers are versatile and suitable for any occasion.

Patterns and Prints: From polka dots to stripes, patterned papers add a fun and playful touch to gifts.

Foil Wrapping: Shiny and reflective, foil papers exude a sense of luxury and sophistication.

Eco-Friendly Wrapping Papers

Recycled Paper: Made from recycled materials, these papers are a sustainable choice for environmentally conscious individuals.

Kraft Paper: Brown kraft paper is not only eco-friendly but also offers a rustic, vintage charm.

Seed-Embedded Paper: Unique and innovative, these papers can be planted after use, growing into beautiful flowers or herbs.

Seasonal and Themed Wrapping Papers

Holiday Themes: Christmas, Easter, Halloween – holiday-themed papers enhance the festive spirit.

Birthday Themes: Bright and cheerful designs perfect for celebrating birthdays.

Special Occasions: Wedding, baby shower, or anniversary – tailored designs make the occasion even more memorable.

Custom Wrapping Papers

Personalized Prints: Customizable with names, photos, or messages, adding a personal touch to any gift.

Branding and Corporate: Companies often use custom wrapping papers for corporate gifts, enhancing brand identity.

The Cultural Significance of Gift Wrapping

Gift wrapping is a tradition that varies across cultures, each with its unique practices and symbolism.

Japan: The art of wrapping, known as Furoshiki, involves using beautiful cloths to wrap gifts. This practice emphasizes elegance and the presentation of the gift.

China: Red and gold wrapping papers are popular during Chinese New Year and weddings, symbolizing good luck and prosperity.

Western Countries: Decorative papers, ribbons, and bows are commonly used to make gifts aesthetically pleasing and special.

The Emotional Impact of Gift Wrapping

Gift wrapping holds an emotional significance that goes beyond aesthetics. It reflects the giver’s effort and thoughtfulness, making the recipient feel valued and appreciated.

Anticipation and Excitement: A beautifully wrapped gift builds anticipation, making the unwrapping process an experience in itself.

Personal Touch: Custom or thoughtfully chosen wrapping papers convey a personal touch, showing that the giver put extra effort into selecting and presenting the gift.

Joy and Surprise: The joy of receiving a well-wrapped gift is incomparable, as it transforms the act of giving into a memorable moment.

Tips for Choosing the Perfect Wrapping Paper

Consider the Occasion: Choose wrapping paper that aligns with the occasion, be it a festive celebration, a birthday, or a special milestone.

Reflect the Recipient’s Taste: Select designs and colors that resonate with the recipient’s preferences and personality.

Think Sustainability: Opt for eco-friendly options whenever possible to reduce environmental impact.

Add Personal Touches: Enhance the wrapping with ribbons, bows, and tags to make it even more special.

Conclusion

Gift wrapping papers play a crucial role in the art of gift-giving. They add beauty, meaning, and emotion to the gifts, making them more than just objects. Whether it’s a simple brown paper tied with string or a luxurious foil wrap adorned with a satin bow, the thought and care put into wrapping a gift make it truly special.

In conclusion, the world of gift wrapping papers is rich with variety and significance. They are an integral part of our cultural traditions and emotional expressions. By choosing the right wrapping paper, we not only enhance the visual appeal of our gifts but also convey our feelings and appreciation in a tangible way. The next time you wrap a gift, remember that the paper you choose is not just a cover but a canvas of love and creativity, making your gesture of giving all the more heartfelt and memorable.

[wwwdenise]

‘How Do You Live’

The 96th Academy Awards saw Hayao Miyazaki's new film "What Kind of Life Do You Want to Live?" win the award for Best Animated Feature Film. This is the second time Miyazaki has won the Oscar for Best Animated Feature Film, after winning in 2003 for A Thousand and One. I'm honestly looking forward to it, so I thought I'd share the news. Although everyone probably already knows about it. hh

Launched in 2017, the film is based on the 1937 novel of the same name by Genzaburo Yoshino. The book tells the story of a 15-year-old boy, "Copernicus Jr.", inspired and guided by his uncle, a university graduate, explores topics such as friendship, wealth, poverty, discrimination, bullying, people and society, and courage, to clarify "the value of what makes us human".

Still hand-painted, this production of What Kind of Life Do You Want to Live is Ghibli's largest production to date, with 60 painters working simultaneously.

I would like to share an artist who has held the position of background artist in many of Ghibli's works, Kazuo Oka, who is known to be the royal scene painter of Hayao Miyazaki's old grandpa. Since the film hasn't been released yet, I can't find any proof that he was involved in the production of the film What Kind of Life Do You Want to Live? It's said that you can only come up with one minute of film a month so this film is really precious.

Especially in the stage of rapid development of AI drawing now, the existence of old grandpa Hayao Miyazaki and his works seems to be a constant wake-up call for me not to forget the most basic and primitive way of expression. About male deer, Kazuo is a painter I have always liked very much and participated in "Totoro", "magical girl otaku rush", "the fairy tale of the Years", "a thousand and a Thousand Searches" and so on background paintings. Hayao Miyazaki once commented, "His work looks careful and serious, but when you look close, it's rough. He uses only one light stroke, and I think that's what makes his work so marvellous."

There is a Chinese saying that means that when you see a person's writing, you can learn about that person's character or can imagine their temperament. I think this saying is also very suitable to apply to paintings. hh

I guess the male deer and male must be a very quiet person, carefully observing the subtle changes around here. Perhaps he had very few words, perhaps he loved to laugh. It is as if there is a soul in each of his paintings they are either clear or silent. The paintings are all landscapes, just landscapes without a single distraction. So a pure idea is so clean. I can't find beautiful and touching words to describe his works. It's like taking a sip of sweet tea.

He has a unique way of filtering light, even the white snowy landscape seems like a warm afternoon, and the use of warm colours is also something that fascinates me. What is his understanding of colour?

There has been a constant topic of discussion about whether AI painting can replace the original artist. Every time I think about it, after seeing his work, my answer is no way. Maybe they have similar styles and colour relationships, but the feeling of handwork and painting is not there. A sensible design, a sense of realism in the conception, the colours about your mood. These are things that a machine doesn't have, and a machine is like a baby that needs to be fed and nourished by you. So don't worry too much. Use AI as a tool to increase our productivity, in more intensive hand drawing practice. Produce great work.

References：

(Longport App). [Online] Available at: https://longportapp.com/en/news/109912123 (Accessed: 23 March 2024).

Quality Culture. (2022年8月27日). [Video]. [Online] Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UG6XzB_J3IA (Accessed: 23 March 2024).

Variety. (2022). Studio Ghibli’s Hayao Miyazaki Teases His Final Film, ‘How Do You Live?’. [Online] Available at: https://variety.com/2022/film/news/studio-ghibli-hayao-miyazaki-how-do-you-live-new-film-1235459163/ (Accessed: 23 March 2024).

"The Boy and the Heron". In Wikipedia. [Online] Available at: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Boy_and_the_Heron (Accessed: 23 March 2024).

Oscars. (2024.3.11). Best Animated Feature Film | 'The Boy and the Heron' | Oscars 2024 Press Room Speech. [Video]. [Online] Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hvAe9rWaSpY (Accessed: 23 March 2024).

Wikipedia contributors. Kazuo Oga. In Wikipedia. [Online] Available at: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kazuo_Oga (Accessed: 23 March 2024).

[giovannisphillips]

Hamsters As Pets - The Way To Take Care Of A Hamster

Hamsters are popular small pets. Should you be thinking of getting a pet hamster to suit your needs or possibly a child, you must realise how to pick one, what supplies you may need, and how to feed and maintain your brand-new pet. Hamsters are usually low-maintenance pets but care is vital to keeping them happy and healthy. Fogged headlights you must know about hamsters as pets. Selecting a Pet Hamster Hamsters are popular pets for youngsters and adults alike. They're small rodents that typically live about couple of years and therefore are usually best housed alone. Hamsters appear in a variety of colors and breeds, and other breeds are recognized for distinctive traits. You'll find 24 hamster species, however some common ones include: Chinese Hamsters: These small hamsters are certainly not as known as other kinds of hamsters. Lots of people mistake them for dwarf hamsters but you are incorrect dwarfs. They merely develop into 4 inches long. Dwarf Hamsters: There are several kinds of dwarf hamsters, like Roborovskis and Russians, and perhaps they are much like Chinese hamsters, but far more commonly present in pet stores. Syrian Hamsters: Syrian hamsters are available in several color variations and go by different names, for example goldens, panda, and teddies. They are much larger than dwarf and Chinese hamsters and therefore are the most commonly seen kind of hamster. Select a Healthy Hamster Only a few hamster from the pet shop is ultimate health. Moving from the breeder or supplier to a store could be a stressful period for baby hamsters, and they'll frequently get sick as a result. Choose an engaged hamster that does not appear to be it has a wet rear end or watery eyes. Both eyes ought to be open and, ideally, the hamster will eat or caught the cage. If your cage appears to have several sick hamsters, it's usually better to avoid buying any hamster from that group since ?hamster diseases have become contagious.1

Selecting a hamster which is an easy task to tame is yet another the answer to consider. Young hamsters will be simpler to train and hand-tame than older hamsters, who've had bad experiences and have never interacted with humans. Hamster Cages and Supplies There are many hamster cage possibilities open both web at pet stores however, many cages tend to be a lot better than others. Several cages may look cool, but aren't very functional and they are extremely difficult to wash (cages with colorful tubes are a good example of this). Tanks aren't good selections for hamsters either, since they lack proper ventilation. You may also need to consider that smaller hamster breeds have different cage needs than the larger Syrian varieties, since cage wire spacing can evaluate if or not a hamster can escape. Select a cage that has good ventilation, is not hard to clean, has enough space to operate and explore, and does not allow your hamster to flee. Within the hamster cage, you will have to provide soft and absorbent bedding, a water bottle, a training wheel, chew toys, a property, as well as a food dish. Keep in mind that hamsters like and need to munch on items. Wood, cardboard, plastic, and other chewable items may well not last long within the enclosure. Feeding Hamsters A lot of people believe that a store-bought bag of hamster seed is the most suitable, but hamsters need to eat a variety of proteins, fruits, and vegetables to ensure that they're happy and healthy. Hamsters may pick and choose what they desire to nibble on from seed mixtures and so will not likely obtain a balance diet. If you give you a pelleted diet instead of a seed mixture and supplement it with a various other safe foods, you will be providing your hamster with everything else necessary to thrive. Greens are a fantastic choice to offer daily; parsley, kale, romaine, peas, and squash are typical good options. Your hamster's diet must be created from 75 % fortified pellets, Twenty percent veggies, greens, and fruits, and 5 % treats. It is usually recommended that you provide hay in your hamster's environment to help you with nesting and foraging. Most hamsters will even consume the immature seeds from the hay. Hand-taming Hamsters Hamsters can be tamed to be very sweet little pets nevertheless for whoever has lots of people bitten, they know hamster bites definitely aren't fun. Young hamsters are generally easier to hand-tame, nevertheless, you will start teaching your hamster not to bite by looking into making sure that you do not startle it. Never wake it, and instead entice it to climb onto your hand without treatment using a tasty treat. This allows you to gain your hamster's trust as time passes, and allow you to definitely pet and hold your hamster while avoiding being bitten. Hamsters usually are not aggressive pets in case these are scared or startled they may bite. Toys for Hamsters Hamsters have to be active and also have enrichment so that they don't lose interest and overweight. In addition they need chew toys to keep their teeth and also trim. There are a number of hamster toys that will be chewed which means your hamster's teeth can be properly looked after, as well as an exercise wheel enables a hamster to own up to they really want. Special balls may also be purchased allowing a hamster to own around safely outside its cage; cute houses and other climbable option is accessible to provide your hamster with ample exercise. For more info about Chuot hamster check out our new webpage

[40sandfabulousaf]

大家好! Grace's and Douglas' home is in a new housing development area; many amenities in mature neighbourhoods, such as clinics, banks, coffee shops, etc, are under construction. This flat is much more spacious than their old one and there's a large mall which I intend to explore a few MRT stops away. The couple thought I'd cave in and take the car, so they were surprised when I turned up at their nearest MRT station! There's actually a bus I can take outside my home which will shorten the journey, so I'm looking forward to trying this out 😁

Back at the vegan cafe with Pa, I tried their new la mian with veggie broth (mala and tom yum soups are also available) and steamed cabbage, ginger, mushroom and tofu dumplings. The noodles - yes, noodles again - had a nice chewy texture, the veggie broth wasn't too salty and there were nai bai (bak choy), broccoli, shiitake as well as enoki mushrooms, sliced carrot and roasted tau kwa (firm tofu). The dumplings were also very tasty, especially when eaten with lots of vinegar and shredded ginger. They have new menu items that I'm keen to try, such as kimchi fried rice and a colourful veggie soba. We'll be back, that's for sure!

I had a whopping 8-plant yong tau foo soup comprising tofu, fu pi juan (tofu skin roll), egg, broccoli, brinjal, radish, carrot, seaweed, Napa cabbage and Chinese flower mushroom (this is the most fragrant mushroom ever, IMO). At a newly discovered yong tau foo stall, I selected pork and chive jiao zi (dumpling), egg, tofu, tau pok (tofu puff), baby corn, brinjal, okra, tomato, carrot, bitter gourd and radish. More noodles too because why not; the prawns and fish were fresh and the handmade pork balls were well seasoned. Also, a packed lunch of tomato scrambled eggs, fried mackerel, bak choy, straw mushrooms, cauliflower and broccoli. Finally, steamed fish, plus stirfried choy sum, kangkong and cabbage.

My secret iro avoiding long term medication at 46yo is, quite simply, lowering my dependence on oils, regardless of whether they're 'healthy fats' or not. Soup noodles and congee don't require 'healthy oils' like avocado or olive oil, so I skip those altogether; I eat nuts and seeds only as snacks or as supplements to tofu and other animal proteins. So I'm not so obsessive about olive or avocado oil when I cook at home; in fact I don't use them at all in stirfries, I use peanut oil. Grandma didn't use a drop of avocado or olive oil in her cooking and she didn't eat nuts and seeds; she kept Grandpa alive for 14 years after his second heart attack and she lived till 2 months shy of her 91st birthday - how? Steamed fish, lots of vegetables and alot of soups.

For flat-footed folks, high quality footwear is so much more vital since, without natural arches, our feet ache more quickly and more severely without proper support. I loved the Anta shoes I bought for walking so much, I purchased a different model in cream for weekend denim shorts and tank tops in neutral colours! Pa was impressed by how light they are, like my black walking pair, and the soles are spongy yet firm, offering good support for my flat soles. I wore them out and my feet didn't ache after a lot of walking so yup, great buy and I'm so happy! 下次见！

[amnashareefsworld]

Tips to Take Care of Small Dog Breeds in India

Toy, miniature and small breeds are all adorable varieties of the mini canine. Some of them are sturdy and strong, such as West Highland White Terriers, French Bulldogs and Jack Russell Terriers. Others like Chihuahuas, Prague Ratters and Italian Greyhounds can be quite delicate and sensitive and naturally need careful treatment and gentle handling. Some have quite prominent features like the round-headed Japanese Chin, the popular long-backed Dachshund and the hairless Chinese Crested.

Irrespective of the shape and size of your dog, make sure to consider their needs when it comes to things like his temperature requirements, the suitable harness, leash or collar, dog food quantities and the suitable shape and size of the bed.

Here are a few things that you should take into account to care for small dog breeds in India.

Food Requirements: Less Is More

The calorie needs of small breeds differ from those of large dogs. As their surface area per kilogram is less than that of large breeds, they use more energy for regular body functions. They even expend more energy to just get around. A Golden Retriever may need 100 steps while a Lhasa Apso may require 400 steps to walk to the end of your block.

Small dog breeds in India may require more calories per kilogram every day than large breeds. They can't reserve energy the way large breeds can. Therefore, they need calorie-dense meals more often. It's a good idea to feed mini breeds small meals frequently throughout the day so that it can compensate for their rapacious need for energy and their small stomach capacity.

Nevertheless, you should avoid overfeeding your dog since that can lead to obesity. Consider buying dog food specifically made for small breeds and choose food quantities based on the instructions given on the back of the dog food. Alternatively, you can speak to the vet for advice tailored to the individual requirements of your little furry friend.

Proper Training to Overcome Small Dog Syndrome

Biting, snarling, running away when called and pulling on the leash are things that dogs across all breeds do. But owners often forgive the naughty or harmful behaviour of small breeds although larger breed counterparts can't get away with the same. This is called "small dog syndrome". Small dogs often use these behaviours as their defence mechanism. However, these can soon become their habit if you don't correct them without delay. Helping your dog learn and practice proper behaviour in different situations from an early age can help him feel relaxed and reassured and refrain from behaviours that are dangerous or inappropriate. So, you can look for a trainer who is experienced in handling a particular small dog breed in India.

As in the case of any breed, small dogs must be protected instead of being babied. It is important to rectify undesirable behaviour exhibited by your dog. On the other hand, it is vital to give him dog food suited to the energy and growth requirements of his breed size.

[deadshadowcreature]

Ok, 1. I really L💖ve your comics! XD

Especially the one with baby Red Boy! TuT x 🌟D🌟

I was also wondering if u are making more comics of Red Son and Nezha interacting? It's ok if ur not and if u don't want to, it's your choice and shall respect it, it was just a pitch. 😎👍

Also, I have some questions if it's okay to ask, if it's ok?

1. Where do you get your research? - Do you mix reality lore and LMK cartoon lore together or...

2. Why Nezha? - Not judging, just asking and super love how you draw him. He so cute!

And third. What are the blessing rules in the 'Karma' comic?

I have a few more questions but that'll be it for now and I also have some ideas for comics for you if u want -(I'm still new to this channel so I don't know if u take requests or not)- but it's okay if u don't want to. Again Thanks! Wonderful work and can't wait for more! Have nice day! 👋

P.s. none of this was written rudely and sorry if that it seemed like it. 😅

Thanks!!!

Well, to answer your questions, I made that comic for a little bit of self-indulgence, but I did do some research long ago on the internet. According to what I found, the True Fire of Samadhi’s user is not just Red Boy (aka Red Son), but also some other characters, that includes Nezha, which is why I made the connection about the Fire. The concept of granting celestial gifts is all base on my understanding of Chinese mythology and believes, I’ll try to explain:

in the world where living beings, demons and gods exist, there’re two kinds of energy, the positive energy (the Yang) possessed by deities and celestial beings, the negative energy (the Yin) possessed by demons and those of the underworld. Both energy exits in two parallel realms connected and existed by the mortal realm (the very place that begins everything). When an individual possessing one kind of energy (for instance negative energy like Red Son) gain the opposite kind of power (Nezha’s blessing), the energies conflicts and starts to grow to compete for which one will claim the body, that conflict will be out of control if the body is not strong or suitable enough. (My guessing why the fire didn’t hurt Mei was because she’s part Dragon, one of the neutral beings that dwell the mortal realm, but I might be wrong)

Hope this help 😅

[redrobin-detective]

sleep like the dead

“And now, I, Technus, shall finally have my electronic vengeance on you, ghost child and conquer this puny human world!” Technus shrieked, exiting the portal in a suitably dramatic fashion. The various weapons around the lab shook and trembled from his power and static from his core crackled, raring for a fight with his favorite enemy. Only the Phantom didn’t appear.

“Hmm, maybe I wasn’t loud enough,” Technus mused before starting up again. “Pathetic Phantom! You can only hope your miniscule half human strength will be enough to take on my squiggling mess of the tangled wires of terror!” He threw back his head and cackled loudly, waiting for his nemesis to show and the battle to begin. His laughter petered out after a bit and the lab became silent once more.

“Well, now he’s just being rude,” Technus fumed, floating up through the ceiling. “Don’t ignore my threats, child. I know you’re here, I can feel your cold core.” He stopped once he reached the ghost boy’s human lair, hovering a few feet from the bed where his rival was sprawled out, sound asleep.

“Come ghost boy, it’s time for fisticuffs! I have some new moves and some great catchphrases I’m ready to try out on you!” The technology ghost exclaimed in excitement, miming some punches. Phantom didn’t answer, just kept laying there barely moving save for his soft, shallow breaths. Technus watched as his breath fogged with each exhale, his core’s ghost sense but it still didn’t awaken him. “Child? Have you expired?”

He leaned forward and gently poked the boy’s cheek. It was squishy but firm unlike a ghost’s exterior and he could feel the dense bone underneath. Phantom didn’t so much as twitch. Technus drew back his hand, unsure of what to do. He’d surprised the child while he was in bed before but he always woke up and they fell into the usual routine. But now he’d changed the script and if there was something ghosts didn’t like, it was change. He flew back down to the portal and sped into the Ghost Zone at top speed, searching for someone who would be able to help him understand. 

“Wow, baby pop whooped your butt that fast? Either he’s getting better or you’re getting more pathetic, my bet is the latter,” Ember teased as she strummed to herself from a floating rock near her lair.

“The ghost child won’t wake up and fight,” Technus said in a rush. “I went to the human world but no one answered my challenge. I went to his human lair and he was just lying on his bed thing and he wouldn’t move, even when I touched him.”

“That’s not like him, he’s usually more hopped up and ready to fight than a groupie on coke,” Ember frowned, setting aside her guitar. “Well come on, sparky, lets go check the kid out.” 

They developed something of an entourage making their way back to the human portal. A few of the locals had heard that the infamous half ghost child was behaving differently and well, curiosity didn’t stop when the cat was killed. Skulker chuckled menacingly under his breath, Youngblood bounced around the adults. Johnny and Kitty had been going to the real world anyway and decided to tag along. 

“Were his folks or Jazz home?" Johnny asked, riding his cycle slow enough to keep pace with the group. 

“Who?” Technus questioned, “er no, the annoying children always with him were not around for once.”

“Annoying yes but they don’t live- uh occupy the same lair as the brat,” Johnny explained. As a younger ghost who’d held onto his humanity more than some, he had a better grasp of human culture. “His parents, the crazy ghost hunters in the blue and orange jumpsuits. Or his sister, Jazz. She has red hair and is kind of a know it all. They’re his family, they live with him.”

“Oh those weirdos,” Youngblood said wrinkling his nose. “Always loud and shouting about ripping apart ghosts. They’re not even good hunters.”

“Obviously, they haven’t noticed they got a ghost living with ‘em,” Ember added with an eyeroll.

“It’s a very stressful situation, Danny was worried about what they’d do if they found out,” Kitty frowned before sticking her tongue out at Johnny. “Danny’s a good guy, at least he talked to me about things that mattered.”

“Good target practice, you mean,” Skulker declared as they entered through the portal. Instinctively they all looked up to where the ghost boy’s core was humming but sensed no movement. “Alright, I will admit that is weird. Let’s see what the whelp’s up to.”

It was a bit cramped, the five of them crammed into the small room especially when they were keeping their distance from the room’s only living occupant. He had not moved since Technus had last been in here. At their entrance, his breath fogged again and he shivered for a second before settling back down. 

“Well, he’s alive at least,” Johnny shrugged before leaning in close to examine him. “Kid looks wiped though.” He picked up the boy’s bony wrist which had been dangling off the bed, his fingers brushing the floor and held it up before dropping it. His knuckles rapped against the ground but he didn’t stir.

“Johnny, leave him alone, he’s trying to sleep,” Kitty hissed, yanking her boyfriend back by his ear. 

“Come on, I’m not doing anything bad,” Johnny defended. “But, come on, how often are we gonna get a chance like this?”

“Hmm is human sleep that interesting that the ghost child would ignore all of us?” Technus asked, floating over and laying himself down on the bed. He laid there on the bed next to the boy for a few moments. “I do not believe I’m doing this correctly.”

“Nah you gotta close your eyes and go off to dreamland,” Youngblood said, grabbing a sock off the floor and then some papers from the desk and began stacking them on the half ghost’s head. The boy still didn’t react in the slightest. 

“Is dreamland close? Another pocket dimension like the Zone?” Technus, ever the scientist, asked curiously.

“No, you idiot,” Ember sighed before tentatively reaching out and laying a hand on Phantom’s chest. “Yow, man that’s weird.”

“What?” Skulker asked, having been mostly content to watch until now. Youngblood had now piled several more items on the ghost boy’s head but he slept on, unawares.

“It’s just,” she scrunched up her face as she looked for the words, “I know what ghost cores feel like and I’ve been around enough humans to know the signs of life but he’s got both at once. His core flares and fades opposite his heart beat. It shouldn’t work but it does, somehow.”

“He is a most curious specimen, I rarely see Plasmius in his human skin so it’s hard to compare,” Skulker commented. “Of course Plasmius I can understand. He acts like a ghost, thinks like one. But the child, he’s certainly a ghost but he’s also decidingly... human.”

“That’s why we should be leaving him alone,” Kitty frowned, plucking Youngblood out of the air and moving him away from the sleeping teen. “If Danny isn’t waking up with all of us causing a racket then clearly he’s exhausted. We bother him enough, let him rest and fight him some other time.”

“But I wanted to fight now,” Technus whined, rolling over on the bed and resting one arm over the ghost boy’s body. “The Phantom surely wants to hear my latest monologue on how I’m the supreme ruler of everything electronic and beeping.”

“I know I don’t,” Youngblood shrugged.

“Me neither,” Johnny scoffed.

“Or me,” Ember muttered, putting her hands on her hips.

“Just let him rest,” Kitty said shooing the others back and gently brushing some of the kid’s hair out of his face revealing sallow features and dark marks under his eyes. “It’s hard enough being human much less a ghost on top of that; between fighting us and trying to have a normal life I bet he hardly gets any sleep. The least we can do is give him a break before he breaks.”

“I suppose it’s not sporting to kill a sleeping prey,” Skulker pouted. “And it’ll make his defeat more meaningful if he’s well rested and not uh,” he gestured to the Phantom’s general state of disarray. 

“Better appreciate it,” Ember sulked for a second, kicking away some pajama pants from the floor. “His stupid human life. I’d give anything to sleep again, just for a minute.” 

The ghosts sat in quiet contemplation for a moment, the dead looking enviously and curiously on the silent, sleeping boy, on a world they could only watch but not engage in. The moment was shattered by the front door slamming open.

“DANNO WE’RE HOME AND WE BROUGHT CHINESE!” Resonated through the house. Startled awake, the ghost child leapt out of the bed and hovered about a foot above it for a moment before sinking back down.

“Darn it Dad, I was napping,” Danny grumbled before he opened his eyes and saw several of his ghostly enemies standing awkwardly in his room. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Technus lounging on his bed. “What the-”

“Oh good, you’re awake!” Technus tittered happily, leaning into his personal space. “Ready to hear my spiel?” The temperature in the room dropped rapidly as his core ramped up and spilled over into his eyes which were no doubt glowing a fierce green.

“Get out of my room!” He shouted, reaching over to grab his emergency under the bed thermos but a sock falling from his hair into his face distracted him.

“Hey, just stopping by but we were just on our way out, sleep well, Danny sweetie!” Kitty said dragging the whole group through the floor. His core thrummed in agitation until he felt them cross the portal into the Ghost Zone. He sat there for a moment, shaking and panting from the adrenaline rush before he decided he really didn’t want to know. He flopped back onto the bed and reached over on his nightstand for the bottle Jazz had given him the other day.

“The heck is in this stupid sleep aid?”

[javierpinme]

Lauren!

I cannot stop thinking about our conversation yesterday!

Imagine telling Marcus you wanted a quiet New Years in with sweatpants and take-out Chinese. That man would get so into it! He would order matching sweats for you and him and definitely Missy (who would roll her eyes but still wear them). And then the three of you would pass out on the couch before the ball drops and probably wake up around 1 am. He’d be all snuggly and pull you closer and give you a lazy kiss and mumble “Happy new year, baby,” before passing right back out.

The perfect night. 🖤✨

Cat! You menace (affectionate)!!! Truthfully, I couldn’t stop thinking about it either. 😩 How dare you put this beautiful message in my inbox and making me yearn!

He would be so relieved that you wanted to have a stay in celebration instead of going out.

He just wants to cuddle on the couch. Maybe find some time to spend some alone time with you, muffled by the loud fireworks that would sound off during the night after the ball drops.

Not that you would even get that far. Nope, that was too high of an expectation for your collective old person status.

Missy would definitely grumble about it while you’re all huddled on the couch, but you know the minute you offer up matching grey sweatpants—an ulterior motive—as you sneak a look at Marcus, brow arched and the corner of your mouth ticking up, leaving her no choice but to give her opinion.

“That’s not festive! Give me the laptop. You’ve lost your privilege.”

His glasses slide down the bridge of his nose while he gazes down at you with a matching smile, mouthing nice try, his hand traveling down to your lower back—not moving any further but filled with anticipation.

You try to keep your laugh from surfacing when you hear “grey sweat-” whispered under her breath at your apparent crime and the click clacking of the keyboard while she finds a suitable option. 

Something with a lot more color or if judging by her cheeky smile accentuated by the blue light of the computer screen—sequins.

Too many crab rangoons later, Marcus’s favorite probably, and a couple of glasses of champagne shared between you—sparkling white grape juice for Missy so she doesn’t feel left out. You’re all trying to stay awake spread out on the couch.

The faint voice of the anchorman announces the countdown but it’s fruitless. All three of you are asleep by the time the ball drops, cuddled close due to the chill in the now January air even from inside the house.

Marcus can’t help it; he just needs to be closer even in his slumber so he tightens his hold around your waist and you’re awakened by the breath of his soft snores delicately hitting your face. He wakes up from your amused huff when his glasses are all askew on his face since he forgot to take them off.

You would be just aware enough to pull off his glasses and blindly plop them on the side table next to the couch. Unaware that you completely missed your aim and they landed on the floor instead after a mini search party the next morning.

Oof, please. The beautiful rasp of that man when he would mumble “Happy new year, baby.” 

The gentle scratch of it from being still on the edge of sleep and his look of admiration for you illuminated by the TV still playing in front of him.

He’s definitely a snuggler when he’s sleepy and if you’re not at risk of your lungs being squeezed out it’s not close enough for him.

Oh, but maybe he’d try to give you another lazy kiss before passing out. More of a press of lips as they slide to the corner of your mouth when he nuzzles your cheek.

Allowing himself to finally drift back into a deep sleep with the promise of soft breaths echoing in the quiet living room from the two loves of his life.

[kaiserkeller]

More information regarding Alfred Lennon

(A lot of the information I have gathered about Alf and his relationship with John when they reconnected has been taken from the wonderful johnandcynthialennon blog — so big thank you to them!)

I wanted to outline exactly why John and his father, despite reconnecting when The Beatles became successful, became estranged again, particularly after John divorced Cynthia and married Yoko.

As detailed in the quote post from Pauline Lennon Stone’s book, ‘Daddy Come Home: True Story of John Lennon and His Father’ (1990), it appears that when Alfred came back into his son’s life in 1964, John was yearning for that closeness; that real father/son bond that families are ‘supposed’ to have. Pauline states that it was relatively easy for Alfred to move into Kenwood (albeit very temporarily) because of Cynthia’s kind nature and eagerness to see if the two could salvage any sort of relationship and that John appeared hesitant yet relatively happy to have him in the house, even though his busy days and frequent lie-ins meant that the two barely saw each other. However, she writes that Alfred did not enjoy life at Kenwood as one would expect, describing him as “restless”, something which was pointed out plainly to him by Lillian Powell on a visit to the house. 

How this unfolded is interesting. Pauline states that Alfred, although apparently not happy living with his son, was uneasy about telling him he wanted to move out and find a place of his own. According to her, Alfred was very concerned about John’s feelings and especially hurting him (although this seems a stark character change from what we already know about him). However, apparently Lillian was very proactive with her idea and took it upon herself to relay the news to John of his father’s departure (again). John, not uncharacteristically, tried to present himself as uninterested by the developments and did not allow the others to see distinctly that they had hurt him:

“However, this restoration of freedom was marred by John’s disappointment at his leaving. Freddie had detected a look of dismay on his face as Cynthia informed him of the arrangements that had been made. But it was clear from his withdrawn attitude that he had not expected this turn of events. And Freddie learned later from John Francis, the part-time chauffeur, that John had been ‘very upset indeed’ about his father’s departure. Nevertheless he gave orders to Dot to ensure that Freddie was given a couple weeks’ supply of food, and Cynthia went to great trouble to provide him with a carpet, a TV and some bedding for the new flat.”

Freddie moved out, and the only meeting of note next was the following year, when he came to introduce Pauline (or Polly, as he called her) to John and Cynthia. I’ve already mentioned in a previous post that the motive behind the meeting was really to ask the couple to give Pauline a job, as she was no longer studying at University. Pauline was hired at Kenwood for a short while as secretary and occasional nanny, but Cynthia would later recall that it was a “nightmare. She was constantly in tears and arguing with her mother over Alf. She slept in the attic and we’d hear her screaming down the phone and sobbing up there.” The couple eventually moved to Brighton together after marrying in Gretna Green.

Here’s where things between John and Alfred get more complicated, though. I have no reason to believe that Pauline has a particular motive with her story telling, and she appears to be relatively honest about Alfred and the way he acted, even if it puts him in a bad light. However, he was her husband, and considering he didn’t gain anything at all really from being John’s father, I believe she genuinely loved him. Therefore, there are elements of her recollection that I have to take with a pinch of salt, for example: her complete brushing off of the possibility that Alfred tried to seduce Cynthia.

“However, it was the question Cynthia's evenings out with the girls which brought about a rift between John and Freddie and led John blowing his top with his father for the first but not the last time. During one of my weekend visits to Freddie in Kew we bumped into Cynthia in a nightclub one Saturday evening. Whether it was due to an excess of alcohol or simply the prompting of old-fashioned values I'm not sure, but Freddie was deeply shocked to find John's wife clubbing without a suitable escort and he treated her to a lecture on the subject of wifely duties. It was one of the few occasions when I was really mad with Freddie. I knew he had a terrible habit of saying the most outrageous things under the influence of whisky, but I was furious with him for offending Cynthia. I realized with despair that he had gone much too far, but what I did not realize was that certain members of John's entourage who were also present in the club would report his words to John in a totally contorted form. In fact several different versions of the truth reached John's ears - the most ridiculous of which being that Freddie had attempted to seduce his daughter-in-law! The accusations were nevertheless sufficient to enrage John, and without waiting to verify their validity he paid an impromptu visit to Kew the next morning, en route for London in his Rolls.”

Pauline’s account is plausible and does make sense, however the owner of johnandcynthialennon.blogspot.com makes a good point in commenting that it presents an angle on Cynthia that we’re not too familiar with. Her account of seeing Cynthia at a nightclub without John is not the ‘mumsy’ homebody we’re usually presented with, giving the impression that perhaps Cynthia had much more of a social life than she typically let on? Or maybe a story made up by Pauline to avoid making her relationship with the man already widely viewed by many as untrustworthy seem weak?

It’s possible that the story, like a game of Chinese Whispers, was highly exaggerated by John’s close circle to give him a sound reason to cut off the man they assumed to be gold-digging off his now-rich-and-famous son. But I would just like to point out that this particular story of attempted seduction was supported by John’s close friend from childhood, Pete Shotton, in his book ‘John Lennon in My Life’ (1983):

“Eventually, however, Freddie exhausted the limits of even John's tolerance when he attempted to seduce his daughter-in-law. Cyn was so distraught that John threw his father out of the house, and refused ever to see him again.”

This makes a lot more sense knowing that this really was the end of their relationship, as when Alfred took his baby son David to see his half-brother and his new wife Yoko in 1969, John explicitly let him know that he couldn’t care less. I doubt that he would have been so angry with his father if Cynthia had outlined that the worst he did was a meaningless misogynistic lecture on female roles. John did very briefly reconnect with his father in 1976 when Alfred was ill with cancer, and later offered to pay for the funeral, but Pauline refused. Despite everything, at the end John still cared about his father, but the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, though poison it may be.

[cherry-lipbalm]

survival of the fittest. spencer reid.

5.3k words.

masterlist

“ If they were to somehow get out of here alive, she was certain it would only be one of them. ”

three hours earlier

Y/N was ready to go home - more than ready. They'd gotten back from a hard hitting case in Boston, touching down by early afternoon meant they were expected back at the HQ, which henceforth meant piles of paperwork were in their future. Y/N knew her complaining would only go reprimanded by Hotch, so she kept to herself in her cubicle, shoved into the corner of the bullpen, and desperate to get the documents out of the way.

Over the scribbling of her pen, she heard the mutterings of Morgan and Reid's conversation beside the latter's desk not too far away from her own. She sighed in defeat, because she knew she wouldn't be able to resist joining them, especially when the opportunity arose to take the mickey at Spencer.

When it did inevitably arise, she pushed herself away from her desk and allowed the wheels on her chair to escort her over to the men. At the sound of jagged rolling, Morgan stepped aside to make space for her to insert herself, a snide smug painted on his face.

"Did I just hear the word 'Spencer' and 'girl' in the same sentence?" She asked, leaning on the armrest to shove her shit-eating grin into Spencer's face; he only rolled his eyes and gave an insincere 'ha ha'.

"Your ears did not deceive you, baby girl," Morgan said, receiving a smack on the arm from Spencer. The warning stare he gave him almost made Y/N stop pestering him. Only almost.

"Oh my! Spill the beans, who is she?" Y/N gushed, steering her chair even closer to the Doctor while Morgan watched on amusedly.

"There isn't a she," he grumbled, head bowed to his paperwork in the hopes that if he ignored the Agents they'd just go away.

"...a he?"

"No!" Spencer exclaimed, snapping his head upwards.

"Hey! It's no skin off my nose, Spence."

He groaned, then turned back to his work and allowed for Morgan and Y/N to exchange a glance as they both tried to hold back snickers at their friend's flustered existence.

She stayed huddled around with them for a few more minutes, but as soon as she saw the clock hit 5, she jumped from her chair and kicked it back to her desk. Announcing that she was off, she began to gather and pack her things. While she did so, she heard Spencer make the same announcement.

"You're off earlier than usual," she called back, "let me guess... Doctor Who marathon?"

Spencer's smile gave him away; Y/N chuckled and draped her coat over her shoulders, standing by his desk while he adjusted his satchel.

"Busy man," she commented, then proceeded to listen to whatever sci-fi related ramble Spencer was emitting, interjecting with exclamations of intrigue or surprise whenever she deemed suitable (they were all timed guesses, but she didn't waver once).

"...Christopher Eccleston is actually the second favourite, despite the fact that a lot of people skip his season, but he has a 52% popularity–"

"Wait, why do people skip his season?"

"Oh, because he preceded David Tennant. He's the favourite, with a 69% popularity."

"Ha, 69," Y/N muttered under her breath with a crude smirk. Spencer only gave a restrained smile and raised his eyebrows. The two fell into a silence, except from a 'thank you' Y/N said softly when Spencer opened the door for her.

The elevator button illuminated under her touch, and they stood in front of the steel doors, awaiting their opening. Y/N tapped her foot senselessly, and Spencer rolled on the balls of his heels.

In amidst the silence, Y/N looked up to Spencer and they exchanged a warm smile. The beep of the elevator distracted them, and after stepping aside to let people out, they ambled in and finally relaxed when the doors closed on them again.

"Today was relentless," Y/N sighed, checking her watch.

"Have any plans?" Spencer asked, out of courtesy.

"Well, I have to head to the repair store to pick up my phone, but after that there's leftover Chinese food in the fridge with my name written all over it," she chuckled.

"What happened? To your phone?"

"Morgan happened," was all she said. Spencer joined in on her judgement even though he didn't know the story, he did know that 'Derek Morgan' was simply a reason in itself that didn't warrant an explanation. Then, they lulled in the return of silence.

It wasn't until the elevator jerked and came to a sudden stop that the two spoke again.

"That's not right," Spencer muttered, and he immediately began to jab at the ground floor button before Y/N smacked his hands away, because she was already deep in a panic, so it was even worse when the next astounding jerk hit. She screamed when they were thrown off balance, and hoped she hadn't got a concussion from where she collided with the back wall upon the motion.

"What the hell?" She panted. They came to a still, but it made her even more nervous because she knew they hadn't been in there long enough to reach their floor. That, and the fact that they had just ripped through the air at about a hundred miles per hour.

Spencer's eyes furrowed, and he licked his lips in the way he did when he was focused on something. Judging by the way he assessed the doors, Y/N thought he was about to pull some thwarted stunt, or more likely reel off some facts about steel.

"I think something's wrong," he mumbled.

"No shit, Sherlock,"

"Ah, elementary my dear Watson," Spencer replied so quickly that Y/N was almost inclined to believe it made any sense.

"Did you know that Sherlock Holmes never actually said that? Sir Arthur Conan Doyle never wrote those words, they were only adapted into the movies years later-"

"Oh my god, Spencer, are we stuck in this elevator?" Y/N shrieked, her knuckles whitening under her tight clutch of the hand rails on the wall: half from fear and the other from frustration.

"Oh, uh, yeah, I think so."

Upon Spencer's bluntness, she stepped forward, desperate for any attempt of an escape plan, she began pressing the ground floor button repeatedly; when that didn't work, she resorted to aimlessly smashing all the buttons on offer. 

"That's– that's really not gonna do anything," Spencer said in the background.

"Do you have a better idea?" She snapped, turning to him with a glare before resuming her actions.

"Try the - try that one!" He pointed to the red button with an alarm bell engraved on it, and Y/N felt stupid under his stare for not noticing it before. She pressed it, and the ringing noise that emitted from it seemed to do nothing but that: ring. She was certain someone was supposed to come to their aid through a speaker, so she pushed it continuously, but derived nothing further. At least she gained some comfort in the panic of Spencer's voice that told her he was shitting himself as much as she was.

"It's not doing anything!" She cried, and when he leaned over her and pressed it too, she bit her tongue and raised her eyebrows to tell him 'see?', infuriated at the fact that he thought she could be somehow pushing a button wrong. But, then again, she'd have been even more angry if he'd done it and it had worked.

When it didn't, she alternated to the next best thing.

"Help!" She yelled, slamming her palms against the doors. She didn't know what floor they'd been wedged at (or even if they were just floating in some space between levels), but someone had to hear them; they were bound to...right?

Spencer seemed to think so at least, because he was joining her in pounding his fists on the steel. Sooner rather than later, the harsh echo made Y/N's ears ring, so she stopped and took a step back.

"Well, this is great," she sighed, slumping in a lean on the wall as she rubbed her temples.

"I'm gonna miss Doctor Who," Spencer whined, pouting.

Y/N just rolled her eyes at him and told him to call somebody. She was sure she'd seen JJ just before they left, still huddled in her office; hopefully she'd be able to call maintenance and they could be released from this death trap of a machine.

"I can't, my phone died. Use yours."

"What?"

"My phone's flat, can you use yours?"

Y/N just stared at him. She decided to give him the benefit of the doubt because the adrenaline rush of panic can make memories a bit hazy, but her skin was flustering under the rage she was feeling, her forehead was already beginning to perspire and the walls were so small and entrapping and - is it hot in here or just her?

"My phones at the store," she reminded him through gritted teeth, and watched his composure fall in both comprehension and defeat.

"Great," he remarked.

"Oh, like it's my fault?"

"Well, it's not mine."

"And it's not mine either so don't talk to me like that!"

It was only a short exchange, but it made Y/N's blood boil; if they were to somehow get out of here alive, she was certain it would only be one of them.

Spencer gulped, and Y/N was sure that had he the opportunity to he would be storming away right about now, but unfortunately for the both of them that wouldn't be happening anytime soon. The wonderful reality of this hitting Y/N, she kicked off her shoes and planted her bum down on the floor.

Spencer looked at her curiously while she did this, then quirked his lip and proceeded to do the same. He used his satchel as a pillow to support his head, and sighed loudly (it seemed deliberate just how exaggerative it was).

"No one is ever gonna find us here," Y/N said.

"We're not dying–"

"You don't know that. We could be suffocating as we speak-"

"Suffocation is impossible in elevators: the cars are designed not to be airtight and there's vents that allow air to move in and out," he pointed up at the grated opening above Y/N's head. At being proved wrong by Spencer and his big, unfathomable brain, she crossed her arms much like a stroppy toddler and even pouted her lip.

"We could still die," she mumbled.

"The statistics of that are still very unlikely; in fact, the people that die the most in elevators are elevator technicians themselves. An average of 26 people die in elevators every year in America–"

"And you're ready to be one of those 26?"

"We're not going to be. We won't suffocate, and it hasn't fallen."

"Yet," she said. "Plus, theres other ways to die. Like, I don't know, murder perhaps?" She said with a potent glare in his direction. He gave her a blank stare partnered with a sarcastic smile, one that only made Y/N more devoted to her other-ways-to-die initiative.

"We just have to wait a while... Did you know the longest duration of time someone was stuck in an elevator was 41 hours? Nicholas White. And all he had to eat was a packet of Rolaids."

More than accustomed to tuning out Spencer's rambles, Y/N barely heard what he was talking about, in a dazed trance where she was focused intently on where the paint didn't match the wall, she was so invested she almost missed what he said.

"Wait... oh my god. Do you have food?" She asked, sitting up from her subsided posture.

Spencer's face softened in dread, which didn't bring any aid nor optimism to their situation.

She watched him sit forward, shoving hands into the pockets of his blazer, coat, trousers and pulling out nothing but a few crumpled pieces of paper. Y/N matched him with an empty gum wrapper and a Walmart receipt displaying a concerning amount of pregnancy tests she had purchased last month.

"Do I even wanna know?" Spencer asked, chucking it back to the ground with a grimace as if it was riddled with germs (it probably was but, still).

"All you need to know is that I'm not pregnant," Y/N scoffed, almost amicably, but her eyebrows creased and she was back to a fuck everything this sucks expression in less than a second.

"Well we can't survive on this."

"You really haven't brought any food?" Spencer pestered.

"No, I had Chinese leftovers on the cards for tonight. And I don't see you offering anything up; what's your excuse?"

Spencer only groaned, again. He kicked his feet out and let his head fall onto the wall back in the same place. He ran a hand through his hair, and the scarce gel he had used to keep it in place disassembled around his face in random strays of curls. The sight of him relaxing like he was settling in for the night didn't appease Y/N one bit.

While Spencer closed his eyes, Y/N got to her feet and decided slamming on the door again was a better pastime. Spencer, however, did not agree.

At the banging, Spencer's eyes shot open and his body shook in alarm. His eyes darted around the space frantically until they landed on Y/N's figure aligned with the doors on which she was unleashing hell. If yelling could open an elevator, they'd have been out in a jiffy.

"I think we've established that doesn't help," Spencer said.

"Then you help!" She shouted, continuing the thrashing of metal.

"How?"

"I don't know!" Her shriek echoed, and she yet again gave up on the violence. "Use that big brain of yours and find us a way out of here."

"The 7 steps to surviving being stuck on an elevator are fundamental; we've already done them. They include pressing the open button, the alarm and call button. We still have our light source, otherwise finding one would have been number two. We've tried yelled for help. The only one we haven't done is stayed calm," he said with a heavy emphasis in her direction. Currently, she was the epitome of panic.

Y/N furrowed a brow at him, "That's six. What's number seven?"

She watched Spencer inhale deeply before he told her, "wait it out."

Y/N felt her heart sink. The possibility of her going insane while being confined within this space was only increasing as the minutes passed by. And with that, she felt like oxygen was depleting alongside it. She took a big breath to remind her that there was still air to breathe, and Spencer caught sight of it.

"Are... are you claustrophobic?"

"No!"

His eyes widened at her outburst, and he even raised his hands in defence should the situation present itself, which was looking pretty inevitable.

"I'm not, I just... get a little... panicked, that's all."

"You don't say," he murmured, and —with a grunt— got to his feet again. He treaded towards the damned doors. Y/N thought he was going to bang on them again, and she took front-row seat on the floor to watch the imprudent, futile attempt. Instead, Spencer's long arachnid-like fingers dug into the crevice of the doors and he tried to pry them open. This was an even vainer approach; his strained groans showed such.

"It's no use. We're gonna be here for a while. I can offer you a juice carton," Y/N spoke, making Spencer turn attentively at the word 'juice'. He looked down to where she was rummaging through her bag and depositing a few random objects while she did so. In a very Mary Poppins like fashion, the entities incessantly kept coming and coming, gathering in remarkable piles on the floor. There seemed to be more things than space available, but then they were trapped in an elevator and space was one of the many luxuries the agents realised they had taken for granted. Despite his astonishment at the growing belongings, there seemed to be a concerning lack of food present.

She was, however, holding out an apple juice carton, and Spencer figured that you get what you're given. So while her attention focused to the remnants of whatever was in her bag, Spencer punctured the carton with the straw, and began sucking. He made a squeal of surprise and relief when he saw her pull out a feebly wrapped, half eaten bag of crackers.

"Oh, I forgot about these," she announced, with the first smile Spencer had seen from her since the elevator had broken down.

He leaned down to grab the bag, dusting off the sprayed crumbs and then took a seat to Y/N's left. He left space between them for chivalrous purposes and also to allow space for the bag of crackers to sit.

They made attempts to ration the snack, but it soon developed into an every man for himself situation when Y/N noticed Spencer had started to take two at once.

She wasn't even hungry anymore, but the hunger for beating Spencer at something prevailed and disregarded any logical thought that they ought to save food, so she dove in again for another cracker. Unluckily, she did so at the same time as Spencer, so it made for an awkward encounter when their hands collided but neither was willing to give up their slot in the bag.

Eventually (because they didn't want the other to notice their blush), they gave up when time ran too long and reached a compromise with halving the cracker. Y/N gave Spencer the bigger half of her failed equal snap, but neither of them addressed it.

Neither of them addressed anything actually, for the next... god knows how long they were cooped up in there. They sat in a pleasant silence, free from any awkward glances or trepidations: it was both from the fact that they were in their own heads, and a serendipitous comfort in one another.

"I'm sorry you're going to miss your Doctor Who... thing," was what broke the silence.

"Oh, it's okay. I can just watch it on repeat tomorrow."

"Okay," Y/N laughed softly, and they floated into another quiet.

"I'm sorry you're stuck in an elevator."

"Ha! Me too."

"When we get out of here maybe we can go for Chinese food," Spencer suggested, craning his neck to look at her with a discreet smile.

"Sure," she agreed. "By the time we get out my food at home might have rotten anyway."

And then time after that just... passed. In Spencer's satchel he had an uncanny assortment of reading material to thrive on, and amid her odd collection of pretty much everything she had ever owned, Y/N found an old MP3 player and some earphones (only the left ear worked, but it was as good entertainment as she was going to get).

There comes a point, though, when one person can only listen to so much music from their teen years; Y/N's taste back then was... questionable, to say the least. And her earphone seemed to agree with her, because it gave out just when the unmistakable sound of an NSYNC song began.

"Ugh, just when it was getting good!" She complained, tugging the bud from her ear and throwing it onto the miscellaneous pile.

Spencer's head quirked to Y/N, but his eyes only followed after he had finished a sentence on his page. When he did, he saw her curiously leaning over his shoulder and squinting at the words.

"You can borrow it if you want," he said. "This is my third time reading it and I have others."

He gestured to his pile, which had evolved into a makeshift bookcase in the corner of the elevator. A few pages were torn, and the spines were so worn down that she could barely make out what the titles were. Not from a lack of TLC, but rather copious amounts of it; having been read over and over again. 

"No, it's okay. You continue, I'll just... meditate, or something."

"It's a good book," Spencer said, and he sounded like he was trying to persuade her, so she gave in and nodded. Readjusting her posture, she focused again on where the paint didn't meet the wall as she listened to the one thing she thought she wouldn't ever be able to stand: Spencer Reid's voice.

———

Which, to her and Reid's surprise, she found quite calming. Her hidden envy and not so hidden annoyance with his ability to reel off facts and wisdom like he was only recalling what he had for dinner hindered any fondness Y/N could associate with his voice. Until now, that is.

He was reading Strangers on a Train, supposedly his third favourite book, and they were reaching "the best bit" according to Spencer, but then every bit within the past forty five minutes since he'd started reading had been "the best bit", so Y/N wasn't sure.

But she's pretty calm, as calm as she can be stuck in an elevator, so she's actually thankful she has Spencer of all people beside her. She knew that if Morgan was in his place they'd have attempted murder at least a couple times by now; not to say that Y/N hadn't considered stabbing Spencer at all, but there's only so much damage a blunt pencil at the bottom of her bag could do.

So, she's calm. She's barely following the story because she only joined in halfway through, but she's grasped the basis of it because Spencer reads so eloquently and so well that he's practically painted the vividness of the narrative for her, even though he vouches it's down to Patricia Highsmith's words, which is true, but Spencer has a role in it too.

One thing Spencer recites makes Y/N wonder why she's never had him read to her before.

"People, feelings, everything! Double! Two people in each person. There's also a person exactly the opposite of you, like the unseen part of you, somewhere in the world, and he waits in ambush."

The story portrays an uncanny resemblance to the plots of the abundant crime scenes they analyse daily (Y/N wonders how Spencer comes home from work only to read about the same gory instances): the same mannerisms, behaviours and intricate understanding of criminal attitudes. It's accuracy is so astounding that Y/N asks if the author was ever a profiler of sorts.

Although it's selfish, because Y/N is not the real victim, she wished there was some way Highsmith's words could spring into real life and provide tainted rose coloured spectacles to which she could observe reality through. In some sick way, Y/N needed to see beauty in things like murder. She sometimes forgot that what they were doing had a purpose, and they tended to be the good guys. But there was no writing beautiful enough for Spencer to read and glorify the crimes with.

But even Y/N thinks Spencer's reading could help her see life through more of the silver lining rather than shrouded by the dark cloud that accompanied it.

The moment of rare serenity within Spencer's words is suspended, however, when he suddenly stops with no obvious justification. Y/N wonders if she's missed something profound within the story again so she goes to read over them on the page this time (because she's been rather entranced in Spencer's voice rather than the actual words), except when she looks up she sees a look of horror depicted on Spencer's face: one that doesn't register with her primarily because what's happening in the story is rather quite mundane compared to the dismay on his face. It's so poignant that she thinks something must be fatally wrong.

"What is it?" She asks, sitting up (and away because she thinks he may be about to vomit. But no, the real reason is even more horrific).

"I need to pee."

Y/N gasps; she hadn't even conjectured this predicament. It was a basic human necessity, how had she not anticipated this would happen? At first she thought, hey it's not that bad, better him than me— he can stand. Until she realises that there isn't really anywhere to stand.

"Oh no," she whispers, and he looks at her dauntingly. "You shouldn't have drank that apple juice."

"What was I supposed to do, bathe in it?" He scorns, and the two connect in an unwavering exchange eye contact with one another. Y/N dreads looking away in fear of what he'll do when she has her back turned.

So, like I said, Y/N was pretty calm, and I'd say Spencer was too; reading was a delight, and he found Y/N almost as endearing (almost). Life was bearable until Spencer needed to pee.

And it is here that they throw all peace out the window (if there was one) and give up on step number seven, and instead say hello to their old friend step number five: frantic yelling.

The energy pent up from lazing around reading and being read to is released fairly effectively. Y/N thinks she's never screamed so loud in her life, and Spencer knows he hasn't: entrapment and a full bladder can take one hell of a toll on a man.

And when the profusion of footsteps and the clanging of doors sounds, it is glorious. It is what they imagine heaven to sound like and more. Y/N collapses to the ground in relief, and Spencer throws his hands up in a prayer of thanks (even though he doesn't necessarily believe, but he is just so high on adrenaline and the discomfort of needing a wee that he'd just about believe anything now if it meant he could get to a bathroom).

"You guys okay in there?" A voice calls in from above them (Spencer genuinely thinks it's God) and Y/N has never been more happy to hear Derek Morgan.

"We're good! We're good! Oh my god, get us out of here please!"

"Right on it, baby. Bet y'all thought you were gonna die in there, huh?"

"Worse," Y/N called, "I thought I was gonna have to see Spencer's dick!"

Morgan laughed (music to their ears: any voice that wasn't each other's fit that criteria in that moment), and then told her he didn't want to know. Spencer and Y/N heard him holler behind him, and even more footsteps approached. Y/N couldn't see much from the slither between the doors that had just been pried open, since they had fallen a considerable distance from their floor. What she could see was only half of Morgan's face while he knelt on the ground.

"What happened?" Spencer asked, trying to gain some understanding for the reason behind missing his Doctor Who marathon.

"Power cut. The whole city's in blackout."

"You're kidding," Y/N replied, then turned. "A whole lotta people just risked that 1 in 26."

"Us included," Spencer said.

They recognised the voices of the maintenance team, and even a few uniforms of firefighters that worked on opening the doors with as much force as they could muster. Y/N looked again to the wall and paint mismatch, finding it too unsettling to look at their rescue attempt (that had way too much potential to go wrong) and even more unsettling to look at Spencer who was practically cradling his crotch.

"Ladies first!" A fireman called, and his hand reached into the space they had managed to (barely) increase, hoping that it wouldn't prove to be too difficult. From what Morgan told them, Spencer wouldn't have any trouble getting through it if they had halved the space ("the kid's a sherbet stick, I'm telling you").

"No, we've got a man here who's about to explode," Y/N joked, forgetting that the word 'explode' is a term one should use lightly within the headquarters of the FBI. She was blissfully reminded of this when the few surrounding agents brandished their guns. They almost didn't let them out until Spencer yelled that if he didn't get to a bathroom that instant he would give them a real reason to get their guns out.

So he was lifted out first, falling into Morgan's arms the chance he got to. He, somehow, managed to wait until he saw Y/N definitely leave the elevator before racing off down the hallway. Maintenance didn't even bother telling him that the doors have been locked because officially work finished three hours ago; they figured he had enough vigour in him to knock a wall down, never mind a door.

"Are you alright?" Morgan asked Y/N, lifting her up onto her own to feet. She's given a shock blanket, which is a pretty cool souvenir.

"I'm here, aren't I?"

"Miraculously. I don't know how you survived in there with him; I'd go insane."

"Eh," she chuckled, "he's not too bad."

———

After gathering their belongings, Y/N and Spencer make their way to leave work, again.

Morgan's nonchalant explanation of the blackout is in no way accurate to the genuine portrayal of, what Y/N can only describe as, a thriller movie come to life. She's looking out the wide scale windows in the bullpen room and can only see her reflection. It's creepy. Skittishly, she jumps when Spencer's image shows up behind her own. 

"Jesus, haven't I had enough near death experiences tonight?" She asks, holding a hand over her heart that she's sure just kickstarted (for various reasons).

"Sorry," he laughs. Placing his hands in his pockets, Y/N can sense he's more relaxed now that he's peed and no longer trapped within the restrictions of one metre.

They smile, then look out again to the darkened abyss before them. Y/N has never seen the city so quiet, yet she knows it's anything but. Once she steps outside it's bound to be hectic central.

"You normally get the subway, what are you gonna do?"

"Oh, I guess I'll just walk," Spencer shrugs.

"Absolutely not. I'll drive you home."

"Oh, no, you don't have to do that—"

"Spence, I just spent the last three hours in a confined space with you, I'm sure I can do twenty minutes more," she said. "Get your stuff ready, we can head off now."

She swung her bag over her shoulder and turned to walk out the bullpen, her heels reverberating throughout the room. Spencer watched her stride out by her reflection in the window, as to not be caught staring.

"If my car breaks down I'm gonna commit murder!"

Spencer laughed loudly, which made Y/N smile as she passed the kitchenette. When he continued to chuckle to himself he realised he wouldn't mind another three more hours stuck with her— at least he'd have an excuse if the car broke down. Maybe if he set off now he could get there in time to beat Y/N to her car and slash the tyres. He kindly reminded himself that that's illegal while he retrieved his satchel off the back of his chair and strutted out the office.

He wasn't too far behind Y/N when he suggested getting a Chinese on the way back.

"Is that a date?"

"If eating a Chinese takeaway in your car is your idea of a date," he sang.

"It very much is," Y/N grinned irrefutably.

He held the door open for her, she said thank you, and their giddy (dare I say lovesick) smiles dropped when they faced the elevator.

They've taken the stairs every day since.

fin.