#No size chart we die like men

[thefloatingstone]

I remember Garrus complains a lot in the third game when you take him to an ice world but I forgot he would complain about this even in the first game.

Put on a sweater, bird boy.

Liara profusely apologised after the mission thinking she had made some MASSIVE social mistake and overthinking it until she was in a state of anxiety. As is ME1 Liara's way.

[newstfionline]

Tuesday, October 3, 2023

Children Are Dying in Ill-Prepared Emergency Rooms Across America (WSJ) Hundreds of children die or are left severely injured around the country each year after they are rushed to hospital emergency rooms that are poorly prepared to treat them. Only about 14% of emergency departments nationwide have been certified as ready to treat kids, or are children’s hospitals specializing in treating young patients, The Wall Street Journal found. Many emergency doctors don’t treat enough children to be able to spot life-threatening illnesses obscured by run-of-the-mill symptoms, or conditions more common in kids. Some E.R. staff default to drug doses and protocols meant for adults and either don’t have or don’t know where to find child-size gear in a crisis. Doctors, health authorities and policy makers have known—and warned—of these failures for decades. Research in recent years has quantified the lack of readiness and number of child deaths that could have been avoided, and pointed to basic steps for solving the problem. Yet most hospitals haven’t taken action, according to the Journal’s investigation of certification levels in all 50 states, reviews of medical records and interviews with doctors, health officials and researchers.

Private security (NYT) Michael Bock was still on his way into work for his shift as a private security guard when he came upon his first emergency of the day. He drove into downtown Portland, Ore., a little after 6 a.m., and saw a man swinging a hatchet and chasing someone into the street. Bock, 46, pulled over and watched them circle each other and dialed 911. “A call taker will be with you as soon as possible,” the recording said, and he waited on hold as he steered his car farther into the street, wedging it between the two men, honking his horn and sending them off in opposite directions as a dispatcher answered the line. “We had two transients in a street fight, but it looks like they’re dispersing,” Bock said. He hung up and continued driving into one of the many American downtowns where one crisis now spirals into the next, as spiking rates of homelessness, drug overdoses, violent crime and psychosis threaten to overwhelm the public safety infrastructure once considered basic to the country’s major cities. Average police response times have increased by as much as 50 percent over the last several years in dozens of places. In Portland, the average police response has slowed to nearly an hour, firefighters work overtime to handle more overdoses than actual fires, and each week there are no ambulances left to respond to hundreds of medical emergencies. What has arrived into the void are thousands of private security guards hired by office buildings, coffee shops, stores, schools and parking lots in what has become one of the country’s fastest-growing industries, with annual revenue exceeding $40 billion. Most major U.S. cities now have at least three times as many security guards on the street as sworn police officers.

The amount of U.S. spending powering Ukraine’s defense (Washington Post) The United States has committed more than $60 billion in aid to Ukraine since the beginning of Russia’s full-scale invasion. That includes more than $43 billion in military aid. That’s more than the United States distributes in aid to any other country. Military aid is only part of America’s commitment to Ukraine. Billions of dollars in economic and humanitarian aid have also been pledged to the country: the United States has provided about $20.5 billion in budget support for Ukraine since the start of the war and more than $2.6 billion to support displaced people, including refugees, and other vulnerable populations within and outside the country. In total, the U.S. has sent Ukraine $66.2 billion in military, financial and humanitarian aid. Experts view the amount as a massive investment in a U.S. ally not seen since at least World War II. “These are off-the-charts numbers,” said Michael O’Hanlon, a senior fellow at the Brookings Institution. He likened the figures to U.S. commitments to European countries at the end of World War II. The Marshall Plan, when adjusted for inflation, came to about $150 billion over three years.

As China arrives with a splash in Honduras, the U.S. wrings its hands (Washington Post) When the leader of this impoverished Central American country visited Beijing in June, China laid out the warmest of welcomes. There was a state dinner in the president’s honor in the Great Hall with Chinese leader Xi Jinping, a 21-gun salute in Tiananmen Square and lengthy bilateral talks over a six-day visit. For China, the attention granted to Honduras—long among the most docile of U.S. regional partners—was both payment and propaganda. Less than three months before President Xiomara Castro’s arrival, despite energetic appeals and warnings of duplicitous Chinese wooing from the Biden administration, Honduras had established diplomatic relations with China, breaking its decades-long ties with Taiwan. It was clearly a win for Beijing. As China continues to campaign for diplomatic support, several of its most recent successes have been in Central America—Panama in 2017, El Salvador in 2018, Nicaragua in 2021 and now Honduras. Guatemala’s president-elect has indicated he plans to follow. In South America—where China is now the biggest trading partner—Paraguay is the lone holdout. In the Caribbean, Haiti and three smaller island nations continue to recognize Taiwan. The government dismisses U.S. concerns as overwrought and patronizing. “For some people,” Reina said, without mentioning names, “I think it’s difficult to see that we’re a government that makes its own decisions.”

Panama Canal Cutbacks (AP) Ongoing droughts in Panama have forced the Panama Canal Authority to reduce the number of daily traversals of the waterway from 32 ships per day in August to 31 ships, well under the typical 36 to 38 ships that can traverse the canal under normal conditions. This means that just nine ships of the NeoPanamax size and 22 ships of the older Panamax size can make the crossing. Each crossing requires large amounts of freshwater from Gatun Lake to run through the lock system and then eventually into one of the two oceans on either side of the canal, and a spell of hot and dry weather has sent Gatun Lake down to troubling levels.

Nightclub fire in Spain kills at least 13 (Washington Post) At least 13 people have died in a fire that broke out early Sunday at a nightclub complex in the southeastern Spanish city of Murcia, authorities said, as they continued to search for the missing and identify the deceased. More than a dozen firefighters worked to contain the blaze that spread to adjoining nightclubs in the Atalayas area, Mayor José Ballesta said in a statement Sunday. A video and pictures shared by the Murcia fire department on social media showed firefighters battling intense flames inside a narrow space around tables and bar stools. The cause of the fire was not immediately clear, and authorities are investigating.

Ukraine’s War of Drones Runs Into an Obstacle: China (NYT) Surrounded by rooms filled with stacks of cluster munitions and half-made thermobaric bombs, a soldier from Ukraine’s 92nd Mechanized Brigade recently worked on the final part of a deadly supply chain that stretches from China’s factories to a basement five miles from the front lines of the war with Russia. This is where Ukrainian soldiers turn hobbyist drones into combat weapons. At a cluttered desk, the soldier attached a modified battery to a quadcopter so it could fly farther. Pilots would later zip tie a homemade shell to the bottom and crash the gadgets into Russian trenches and tanks, turning the drones into human-guided missiles. The aerial vehicles have been so effective at combat that most of the drone rotors and airframes that filled the basement workshop would be gone by the end of the week. Finding new supplies has become a full-time job. More than any conflict in human history, the fighting in Ukraine is a war of drones. That means a growing reliance on suppliers of the flying vehicles—specifically, China. While Iran and Turkey produce large, military-grade drones used by Russia and Ukraine, the cheap consumer drones that have become ubiquitous on the front line largely come from China, the world’s biggest maker of those devices. And in recent months, Chinese companies have cut back sales of drones and components to Ukrainians.

Pro-Russian populist party wins Slovakian election (Washington Post) The party of pro-Russian populist Robert Fico has won Slovakia’s parliamentary election, nearly complete results showed Sunday, dealing a potential blow to European unity on support for Ukraine. With almost all the votes counted, Fico’s Smer party led with about 23 percent, according to the Slovak Statistics Office, followed by Michal Simecka’s Progressive Slovakia, with just under 18 percent. The results mean the country is headed for a coalition government, with neither of the largest two parties winning enough support to command a parliamentary majority. If Fico’s Smer leads that coalition, it could reverse Slovakia’s strong support for Ukraine amid Russia’s invasion. “We think Ukraine is a great tragedy for everyone involved,” Fico said in a news conference after the results were in. “And if Smer gets to form a government, we will do everything we can—also within the E.U.—to start peace talks as quickly as possible. Further killing won’t benefit anyone.” He also said Smer is prepared to continue providing humanitarian aid to Ukraine and predicted it would take two weeks to form a coalition.

How China-West tensions will shape global markets (Reuters) Tensions between the West and China are rising, from tit-for-tat trade tariffs to tech rivalry and spying allegations. The ramifications for global markets are significant, with Washington and Beijing’s determination to loosen dependence on each other fraying long-established supply chains. U.S. President Joe Biden is determined to bring manufacturing in strategic sectors such as electric vehicles and semiconductors back home. Washington is also pushing “friendshoring”—the idea of replacing China’s role in supply chains with friendly nations. Research led by Harvard Business School’s Laura Alfaro identifies Vietnam and Mexico as the major beneficiaries of the U.S. supply chain shift so far.

Earthworms help produce as much grain as Russia, say researchers (Guardian) Earthworms’ contribution to the world’s grain harvest matches that of Russia, according to a study documenting their enormous role in food production. This amounts to 140 millions of tonnes of food a year, researchers said, which would make earthworms the fourth largest global producer if they were a country. Russia produced 150m tonnes in 2022 and expects to produce 120m tonnes this year. As worms burrow and feed underground, they break down organic matter and aerate soils, increasing fertility and making nutrients available for smaller organisms. They also help soils capture and retain water. Scientists have long been aware that the presence of earthworms makes crops grow better, but before this research, it wasn’t known by how much.

[theeversocelebratedmarktwain]

Happy Birthday  John Greenleaf Whittier!: Here’s One to Grow On!

In this week of Mark Twain, we get a look into America of this time, other than only through the lens of Twain himself. We read “Whittier Birthday Speech” by Twain himself, where he roasted literary figures in a public setting for a birthday celebration hosted by The Atlantic Press. Twain has always had a knack for shock value. However, this time it ruffled a lot of feathers. So much so, that we are still talking about it today.

In the American modern life, we are constantly circling the fences of our own favorite celebrities. Oddly enough, Mark Twain was (in a way) one of America’s firs celebrities at the moment. He was a writer, speaker, businessman, and enthusiast of the world. With that celebrity status, Mark Twain received an invitation to speak the another celebrity’s birthday party in New York. In a Met Gala sized event, Whittier may have been the man of honor, but the entire night focused on Twain’s speech, and rightfully so.

The next day and for many days after, the only thing anyone could talk about was Twain’s speech. While we look back and recognize Twain was probably the beginning of Stand Up comedy in America, he was also probably the first charted ‘roasting’ individuals of status. In Twain’s speech, he took shot at Ralph Waldo Emerson, Oliver Holmes, and Henry Longfellow. All three men were in attendance in Whittier’s Birthday dinner that night. While Twain’s status is still uncertain in the socialites of society, taking shots at these other ‘notable writers of society’. As is most of Twain’s actions are, these were done all in good fun (I’m sure) with a little bit of truth ringing honesty to them. 

The controversy grew with conversations around the ideas of ‘intellectual conversations vs. bar room rants’. Critics accused Twain of being of low class, barbaric, and un-gentleman like. With papers and reviews growing rampid in January, Twain moved to Europe in that March. Speculators stated it was temporary to let the buzz die down. 

[jypbae7]

Me me meeee <3 I'll request a full analysis about NCT's Johnny! 😚😚 Include errrrthing baby hahaha 18+ stuff, him as a romantic partner aka bf <3 whatever you want! I'm so excited to read this akndfkgkfn 😎😎😎❤️❤️

Johnny Suh - Natal chart

Finally finished it!! Johnny was actually the most requested member I received in my inbox! Sorry that it’s nearly the length of a novel lmao but I sectioned it to make it easier to read and navigate 💕

(Not claiming to be an expert this is just for fun please don’t take anything too seriously!) Hope this is helpful and that you enjoy it 🥰❤️

Personality: Aquarius Sun, Gemini Moon, Aqua Mercury, Virgo rising, Leo Mars

While Aqua is a fixed sign it is definitely the most adaptable of the 3 fixed signs due to the Air element of Aquarius plus the ever spontaneous Gemini moon. Most things that make the rest of us feel anxious tend not to seem that scary to fearless Gemini or cool as a cucumber Aquarius.

Natural social butterflies who love their tribe deeply and fiercely once they find them. Busy bodies who are easily bored if left unstimulated too long which will turn into crankiness if not rectified quickly. Thankfully Aqua & Gem have a zest for life that makes them quite easy to please. They are open minded and will gladly stay up till 3am talking about aliens and conspiracy theories, just like they are thrilled to go on last minute random trips just because why not (Gemini impulsivity at it’s finest lmao)

Gemini is a mutable sign unlike fixed Aquarius. This is a pretty big difference and something that goes under the radar with Aquas due to that cool as a cucumber attitude. Because they are adaptable and typically very easy going they don’t often show their stubborn aggressive sides and honestly prefer not to have to unless they are feeling extremely disrespected or pushed beyond their boundary which is a BIG let me say that again, BIG no no with Aquarius (almost as big as it is for for the water signs)

Adding to these deep inner thoughts and vast inner world that Aquarians have, his Virgo rising adds more depth and self awareness. As perfectionists and highly intellectual minds they are a lot more self critical than they let on, just like they are a lot more caring and soft than they let on. They deeply care about others and the world in general seeing the big picture in a very earthy and traditional way - good people should strive to put good out and try their very best at whatever they do. They deeply dislike mean, malicious, manipulative, or spiteful behavior or people and generally keep guarded around people they don’t know well until they feel certain of the person’s true intention. There’s nothing Virgo is more cautious of than to be swindled or hurt by someone they take it reallyy hard and they know it.

Now we alllll know his swag and confidence is legendary and we can all thank the Leo Mars placement for that and the beautiful lush shiny hair and big toothy smile (Looking at Mark, Jaemin and Xiaojun like 👁👄👁) But beyond the aesthetics and dripping confidence and charisma, Leo is another creative sign that tends to be a lot more intellectual and intuitive than people give them credit for.

When the other members call Johnny one of the scariest members you can bet it’s his aggressive fiery fixed Leo Mars which is loud and even violent when provoked enough not to mention the fixed Aquarius tornado energy...Oooof that is a lot of Fixed sign rage right there honey so let’s tread lightly with Johnny boy and appeal to his open minded and friendly nature with a gentle tone and non-pointed words during discussions and all shall be good even if there’s some disagreeing!

Honestly if the argument starts getting bad you can always distract the Gemini moon by just bringing up other interesting topics! Geminis minds move FAST and while they can process a lot of information quickly and precisely they tend to get distracted easily (but here’s the good side of that😉)

Aquarius have a deep love of family and the desire to create their own (Geminis often share this trait) they can feel a bit like outsiders or “other” from people and thus crave to build a tribe of their own - this can be friends that are lifelong deep relationship carried on no different than family or starting their own family with a partner and kids

Relationships:

Non-Romantic Relationships & overall communication style: Aquarius Sun, Gemini Moon, Aqua Mercury, Leo Mars, Virgo Rising

Built off laughter, time spent together whether its at home hanging out casually or going out for meals and fun new things to try together

Wants to bounce lots of ideas off of his closest friends and secretly loves doing creative stuff together the most - this is pretty evident if you watch JCC he’s happiest when he’s doing stuff with his bros whether it’s sporty, musical, or crafts

Does not like to be vulnerable even with those he’s close to, tends to stick to neutral and more light hearted topics of interest and conversation because he prefers to spread a good mood instead of a heavy one

If he really trusts you or has worked through it enough already to want to talk about something serious you’d better listen cause the boy drops gems of wisdom and has a really soft mushy heart

Immediately adopts his close friends as family and no matter the time apart or distance will always treat them the same

Likes friends he can learn from and take on new adventures with they satisfy the intellectual Virgo rising and Aqua & leo sign thrill needs - Gemini is all about BOTH of these

Deeply appreciates loyalty, acts of service, and quality time with his friends and family - makes his heart soooo happy BUT

He would rather fucking DIE than let you or anyone see him cry so he cries like 4 times a year at 3am in the bathroom while everyone’s asleep (HIGHKEY feel like Ten & Jaehyun are exactly like this too)

Romantic relationships and preferences: Capricorn Venus, Leo Mars, Capricorn Juno, Capricorn Eros

Mr. Johnny Suh has THREE Capricorn placements tied to love and intimacy so that’s saying something lmao

Going against Aquarius’ open mindedness and anti-traditional persona Capricorn prefers all things traditional and stable.

Very much does acts of service for his partner as a sign of affection also lots of touching and quality time.

A veryyyyyy spontaneous boyfriend/partner thanks to that Gemini moon - he either wants to stay at home in pjs and order food and have movie marathons or whisk you away on zero notice to a trip lol

Earth sign men are drawn to women who embody very flowery feminine energy and aesthetics. They prefer a “natural beauty” who can spice it up sometimes rather than a super flashy 24/7 partner. (He’s said in the past that his ideal type is Yoona which says it all lol)

Will be highly drawn and intrigued by someone with a high work ethic and high intellect. BIG bonus points if you can keep up with his sarcasm and jokes.

Earth signs are pretty physical and handsy so expect to have little personal space around him, make no mistake they enjoy this very much. He will definitely be grabbing you and picking you up often! He’ll be smirking down at you devilishly watching you get flustered backed into a corner trapped by the sheer size of his muscular body. A Capricorn male’s ego really enjoys this dynamic, trust me lol.

Also another quirky male Capricorn trait that actually applies to Aqua & Gem as well… They like to initiate all the touchy feely stuff - What I mean by that is they can get easily spooked by clinginess too early on. These three signs want romance and definitely want to feel that you’re into them but they also are innately independent and enjoy relationships where their partner can also go off into the world and thrive in their own way and meet back together in the middle. So long as you can find a happy balance, when you are together you won’t have to initiate anyways honestly because he’ll be the one pulling you.

Okay let's talk about Juno & Eros - Juno in Capricorn is about serious, loyal, long term commitment though they tend to marry later in life once they’ve already achieved the things they want to for themselves which I can see being the case for Johnny as well especially with his current career.

18+ Preferences:

Eros in Cap where to begin - high libido, stimulated by visuals and touch. Wear interesting colors, patterns, textures to catch his eyes & his hands - lacy lingerie is a plus the texture will really excite him and the feminine look will please his earthy traditional cap side. If you really wanna have him drooling throw in some spicy contrasts like a leather choker with the lace set and you’ll also set off his Aqua, Gem, and Leo placements as well ;)

Tends to bounce back and forth between fucking you like you’re a cheap groupie whore and taking his time staring you in the eyes and kissing you passionately as he’s stomach deep - no inbetween but really who’s complaining??

DOM KINK - NOT UP FOR DEBATE he has THREE Capricorn placements for fucksake meaning 3 cardinal signs which are literally called “the INITIATORS” plus all his other fixed personality placements

More of the classy rich ceo vibes kind of dom (suits, expensive cologne and jewelry, leather, black and red binds) - takes you to bougie hotels when he really wants to ramp it up and not have to care who hears. You can expect not to sleep those nights but he’ll damn sure pamper you afterwards with cuddles, food, and a spa date.

Now...with all his Air sign placements...I have to say it...he’s a kinky ass dude. Few things are off the table, but he’s also super content with “normal” stuff too. It’s more about the person and experience for him than doing the wildest things possible. So if it feels natural and right then he’s down.

Don’t be surprised if he wants to tie you up like a pretzel or role play because he’s definitelyyy going to ask. Well actually he’d probably just buy whatever outfit or binds he wanted to use and casually be like “look what I got for us baby” as if it’s matching charm bracelets or something. The good news is he’ll dress up and get into it with you and he’s super receptive to your boundaries, fantasies and making it enjoyable as possible for you too.

If you flip the script on him and suddenly break the norm either by taking the initiate/lead first or trying something new he will absolutely combust 🤯 and be in the palm of your hand staring in absolute awe and fascination till he can’t take it anymore and reclaims his spot as the one in control

Nudes, videos, and phone sex when apart are a definite and they really keep the passion burning for him which is honestly VERY important and don’t worry he’s NOT shy and you will be grateful for the beautiful collection of photos and videos 🤤

Boredom for Aquas, Gems, and Caps can quickly lead into self-sabotaging behaviors and/or wandering eyes not because they don’t value loyalty but that they really need and benefit from mental stimulation and feeling wanted so when that’s gone they can pull away

Honestly pretty much any type of lingerie or outfit will turn him on because the most arousing part for him is knowing that you spent time doing such a naughty thing for his sake

Breeding kink - 3 earth placements and has said himself in interviews he would’ve started having kids at 25 if he wasn’t an idol soooooo that’s a definite. He imagines you pregnant with his baby and it makes him super soft and warm which quickly turns to super turned on. He loves the primal marking aspect of claiming you in such a way and also watching you unravel to the point of begging him to do it. Even if it’s just “play” he loves it and will probably think about it a lot more than you know. If you ever do it for real he will be utterly and completely obsessed with you forever and be practically more excited about all the stages of your pregnancy than you are

[linkspooky]

Annie Runs Away (Again).

Annie has suddenly decided she’s a pacifist. Annie is leaving on a journey of self discovery. Perfect timing. You take all the time you need. It’s not like the world’s ending or anything. 

Just kidding. Annie’s not actually acting any different than she usually acts. I’ve said this before, but Annie and Armin are characters who continually exhibit regression rather than development. If you remain the same person more or less throughout the story, that’s not suddenly going to change without impetus. You’re always just the same person, even at the end of the world. 

An analysis on Annie and Armin’s failings under the cut. How they parallel Eremika, and why they can’t get close. 

1. But That’s None of My Business

Let’s bring out my handy dandy Want / Need chart again. 

Want

: something your character desires, because they believe it’ll improve their happiness.

Need

: the lesson they need to learn to overcome their inner struggle and achieve true happiness.

Annie has run away again and again throughout her entire arc. 

Annie’s a survivalist. Her own life comes before anybody else’s. When the chips are down, Annie will always choose to run away and protect herself. When things get hard her response is essentially to find some way to escape, and insist that the ongoing conflcit has nothing to do with her therefore there’s no reason for her to be personally invested. 

The entire tunnel scene is symbolic for this. All Annie had to do was make a choice to confront what she had done. She had to choose to walk into a situation that would be unsafe and even potentially compromise her. 

There was a chance, but Annie can’t even walk into a situation where she’s potentially unsafe. She can’t handle any confrontation. Annie, who is capable fo turning into the female titan, and easily can beat up men twice her size, and yet ultimately that physical strength means nothing because Annie is a self serving coward. 

We know the reason why Annie is like this. It is a pretty good reason. Her father told her that the most important thing above all else was her own survival. Annie was raised like a child soldier, to her all she has is her strength, and her promise to reunite with her father. If one fails, if she’s not strong enough to fight her way out of a situation she falls back to the other and runs. That’s why Annie as a person is both strong, and incredibly weak, she can’t even stand the slightest confrontation. 

Annie says she doesn’t care about being a good person, but she also gets tripped up and coerced by Armin’s words that he’ll think less of her. Annie says she will kill anyone on this island to survive, but she fails just because she spared Armin. Annie is wavering back and forth. She’s contradicting herself constantly, and that’s because Annie doesn’t want to think about who she is or what she wants. Her entire identity is found in running away, and running back to her father, and Annie never tries to be a person outside of that. 

What do you call soemone who blindly follows what their parents told them to do, and is unable to make decisions of their own outside of listening to their parents? 

A child.

The words of Annie’s father have kept her alive until this point, that’s true. However, treating the whole world as her enemy, as something to run away from, has stopped her from connecting to another person and giving her what she needs to grow up. You don’t grow and learn by doing the same thing over and over again. The same ideas that let her survive are now holding her back. 

What Annie thinks she wants is to be left all alone. She gets exactly that when she’s crystallized, and it only makes her worse. She is protected from everyone, nobody is able to harm her, she doesn’t have to interact with anyone and she becomes completely helpless. 

Annie’s path forward relies on confronting the people she’s been avoiding. However, Annie has only ever known avoidance. 

What Annie thinks, is that she doesn’t have to care about other people. However, she contradicts herself because Annie clearly does care. If she didn’t care she wouldn’t have spared Armin. If she didn’t care she wouldn’t let Armin’s condemnation of her actions get to her. It’s not that Annie is a good or bad person, it’s that Annie doesn’t even want to think about if her actions are right or wrong, she doens’t want to have any kind of confrontation at all so she runs away. 

Annie’s arc has always come about by her realization that there are other people who exist besides her in the world, and who have other wants and needs outside of her. If Annie was truly capable of living alone she would have just stayed in the crystal after all this time, but she obviously hated that. 

The only way Annie can move forward is if she gets closer to other people, but she can’t do that if she’s running away from them. I’ve said this again and again, the micro informs the macro. Characters decisions on a micro-level  have greater consequences in story. Annie is not able to rise to the occasion, because of her personal weaknesses, namely that she can’t be close to other people.

Once again we have Annie insisting that she just doesn’t have anything to do with this. Annie is someone who is perfectly capable of fighting, and strong in some ways but weak in others. Any time she has to confront something, she always chooses to avoid instead and runs away. It’s not because she can’t do anything, but it’s because she doesn’t want to have to face the conflict. 

Annie will always try to run away and be by herself because that’s what she thinks she wants, when what she needs to do is grow up and learn to be her own person outside of her father’s words for her. Like. She even says she wants to die peacefully. As if she’s accepted death rather than trying to struggle to live. Which is why she even physically runs away from Armin, the one person whose closest to her. 

Armin is the one person who has consistently challenged her to be a good person. As long as she’s far away from Armin, Annie doesn’t even need to think about whether her actions are good or bad. However, being quiet and being at peace is just what Annie thinks what she wants because if that was really the end result of her arc she could have just stayed in the crystal forever. 

2. EreMika Parallels

Armin and Annie mean a lot to each other. Armin is Annie’s connection to her own humanity. Annie saved Armin once and because of that her life has been forever changed since that moment. Armin is the person who looks up to Annie, and sees the best in her and even challenges her to be a better person than she was previously. Armin sees Annie better than Annie even sees herself. Does this sound familiar? it’s like a parallel. It’s intentional. 

Mikasa has always seen the good in Eren. She’s seen the kind little boy who wrapped a scarf around her on a cold day, and gave her the strength to fight. Eren is always stopped and hesitates when confronted with the memory of the scarf because Mikasa represents his connection to other people. It’s his memories of  Mikasa who always opposes him when Eren insists he’s a terrible person that’s going to destroy the world. 

Mikasa sees the good in Eren. However, their relationship is a complex one. Mikasa has, time and time again, enabled the bad in Eren because she has difficulty looking at the whole picture. 

Mikasa has enabled Eren’s bad tendencies. This is because Mikasa is so codependent on Eren, and so paralyzed by the idea of losing him she’s too afraid to confront him. Annie and Mikasa are both characters who despite their tremendous strength, they can’t seem to whether the simplest interpersonal confrontation. 

Mikasa and Eren have both at some point in the story saved each other. Eren saved Mikasa from the kidnappers. Mikasa told Eren that he was accepted and loved at his lowest point when confronted with the Dinah Titan again, and he promised to wrap the scarf around Mikasa again.

However, they also both have the tendency to ruin each other because Mikasa enables Eren’s worst qualities. She could push Eren to be better, but she’s too fixated on the idea of Eren rather than confronting who Eren really is as a person that she’s unable to do anything to stop Eren until it’s far too late. 

Armin and Annie are too people who could just like Eren and Mikasa, challenge each other to be better people. Eren’s flaw is his independence, Mikasa’s flaw is his codependence. It’s gender reversed in Aruannie, Armin’s flaw is his codependence and Annie’s flaw is her independence. 

The problem with Annie and Armin is ultimately they both tend to be very cowardly people. When they interact they have the potential to make each other braver, or they can run away from each other. 

Let me elaborate quickly on Armin. If Annie’s tendency is to always do what she wants, then Armins’ tendency is to always try to do what other people want. That’s not as selfless as it sounds though because, Armin wants to put all of his decisions on other people. 

Think about the conflict with Connie. If Armin had just told Connie no, or asserted himself as a leader, he could have just avoided Connie kidnapping Falco all together. 

Armin doesn’t want to make choices though. Armin will do anything to put the choice on other people. He physically put the choice on Connie, by just throwing himself into a suicide and forcing Connie to decide to save him. 

Armin believes that he himself is insufficient. There’s a theory going around that Armin is the main character of the story, but even if that is true: Armin does not want to be the main character. Armin will do anything to avoid being the main character of his own life. Part of the reason Armin puts Eren on such a pedestal is because if he treats Eren like the main character, then Armin himself is spared from making a decision. 

Annie doesn’t want to think about other people. Armin spends so much time thinking about other people that his own will gets lost time and time again. Eren continually putting responsibility on others and relying on others around him when everyone needs him to take responsibility and step up is his own version of running away. 

If part of the reason that things got this bad, was the total failure of leadership. Everyone acting powerless. Floch even says humanity needs a devil to lead it immediately after he creates the situation that kills Hange, and puts Armin in charge once more. 

If Annie’s first instinct is to always run away to protect her own life. Armin’s first instinct is to always throw himself away in some kind of suicide plan. However, this creates far more dififculties than it actually solves. Reiner even yells this at him, how would it help for Armin to throw his life away in a sacrifice at this moment to buy time if he was there best chance against Eren.

Floch believes that humanity needs a demon to lead them. This is an idea that’s been built up since the death of Erwin. It’s not Eren who is the demon however, it’s Armin. 

However, just as Annie consistently runs away when she’s cornererd. Whenever Armin has to act responsible for other people he always reacts by saying he couldn’t possibly live up to Erwin’s legacy. But that’s just the same behavior. That’s just running away. Annie values herself too highly over other people. Armin sees himself as expendable and much lower priority therefore refuses to step up to any responsibility placed on his shoulders, or make decisions he can put off onto other people. It’s different motivations but the same behavior, consistently running away from each other.

This is something they both do, and they can either confront this behavior in one another or they can run away from it. 

If Armin had challenged her to stay and fight Annie probably would have stayed. he didn’t so she didn’t. Armin calls himself a bad person who has killed comrades, but he doens’t really want to make the decisions that Erwin made and so he avoids that. 

In order to get closer, Annie and Armin would both have to confront themselves and admit things about themselves they don’t really want to think about. Which is why Annie runs away, and Armin lets her. Annie could challenge Armin to be better and call him out, but Armin doesn’t really want that fight right now. It’s something they would have to work on in order to be closer. How can you expect two people to be close, if they are continually running away from each other?

AruAnnie, and EreMika are two completementary sets of people with similiar flaws that could help each other or ruin each other, and right now we’re seeing the regression and not the development. 

[wookie92]

WHAT IT’S LIKE TO HAVE A MICROPENIS

My micropenis is approximately ½ to 1 inch long when flaccid and 3.3 inches long when fully erect.  When  fully erect it has an upward angle and a slight banana curve. It is also very thin (2.8), though proportional to the length.  According to calculations my penis has a volume of 36.19 ml / 1.22 fl oz (us).  Various studies suggest that the average American penis is 2.8–3.9 inches flaccid and around 4.7–6.3 inches when erect.  According to online information at SIZEMEUP, in a room of 1000 guys only 1 would be shorter than me.

In an adult, the average stretched penile length is about 13.24 cm (5.21 in.). An adult micropenis is a stretched penile length of 9.32 cm (3.67 in.) or less.  Growing up I remember reading that a micropenis was defined as any penis shorter than 2.8 inches in length.  But have been subsequently given new information that slid me well under the 3.67 inch upper limit.

Where Do I Stand On The Penis Size Chart?

All this to say: the majority of average flaccid penises are longer than mine when I am erect.

I cannot say that I am deeply ashamed of my micropenis, but certainly I have experienced shame with regard to my size.  I can say that I am extremely self aware of my penis size.  This is largely because of the of things I hear women and women say about micropenis, and people’s reaction to my own micropenis.

I can only speak from personal experience, but the number of times I have heard women making fun of men for the size of their manhood is staggering. At one time, I actually overheard three or four of my colleagues at work all agreeing that "men with small dicks should be required to wear a warning sign."

In school, especially high school and as an undergraduate, I was subject to a lot of hazing and bullying that was directly connected to my having a micropenis.  As a sophomore in high school I was depantsed at the pool by three bullies when I got an unwanted erection. They lifted me up and held my arms behind me to prevent me from covering my erection so the entire PE class present saw what happened.  The coach had left the pool area when it happened. While the three boys were penalized, the damage was done any my “secret” became known through out the school before the end of the day.  The teasing commenced immediately and was unrelenting.  Even my mother got calls from some friends who had heard about the incident (and my condition).  My mother reacted in anger at me that somehow I was responsible for the situation (and her subsequent embarrassment).  No empathy there.  I was depantsed three more times before I graduated from high school and it was clear to me why I was being targeted.

I was on the swim team and during a competition with a neighboring town, discovered that two of the players from that town recognized me as the guy with the “baby dick” which got shouted as I started my event.  So, word had spread.  I felt like a pariah.

Numerous scientific studies have suggested time and again that for the majority of women in the western world, tiny penises are simply undesirable. I am 28 and have had just only three sexual experiences (through personal choice) with women, two of which were very humiliating, to say the least.

In high school, my first consensual sexual encounter was with a boy named Billy.  I was 13 and he was 15.  He was interested in anal sex, and wanted to top me.  I was willing to bottom despite the fact that he was very well endowed.  He did tease me about my micropenis, but seemed to accept it.  I was not prepared for how painful the experience of bottoming would be, but he continued to be interested in me, and treated me well (we even kissed) so I was willing to continue to have sex with him as a bottom.  I fell in love.  Then he disclosed to his homophobic older brother that we had been having sex and that put an end to our relationship.  His brother let me know (rather violently) that I was to stay away from Billy or he would castrate and kill me. Billy, who had a black eye, never spoke to me again.

My first sexual encounter with a woman happened during my Junior year in high school.  She was a sophomore and I was a Junior. When I undressed I could tell she was “shocked” even though she was a virgin and had never seen a man naked.  She has seen photographs of naked men, and she had a brother in college.   She was well pleased with my digital and oral skills, and actually squirted into my mouth (something I didn’t even know was a “thing” that might happen). Unfortunately when I attempted to penetrate her, my condom slipped off, and my orgasm was triggered prematurely as I was trying to thrust into her.   She tried to push me off of her as I locked up and started squirting, and was furious that I had ejaculated into her vagina.  She said she could feel me ejaculating.  She got up and douched.  I was too embarrassed to speak more than an apology.  I helped pay for her “morning after” pill and discovered that she had disclosed the whole evening, including my premature ejaculation, and condom mishap, to her friends.

As a freshman in college I encountered a very attractive university student who seemed to be attracted to me. When I stripped, she stared at my micropenis, giggled, and put her hand to her mouth, muttering simply "OK" in a tone that suggested she was taken aback. When it came to actually performing, first I found that the condom wouldn’t stay on, but more frustratingly, my micropenis kept falling out every time I tried to penetrate her. She actually asked the traditional joke question, "Is it in?" mistaking my penis for my finger.  I wanted to die. It was clear that she was getting nothing out of the experience. I genuinely tried my best to make her happy via oral sex, but she didn't orgasm or enjoy that either.   I suspect her encounter with my penis through a wet blanket over the whole experience. When at last I finally thought I was making her content, she suddenly huffed in an annoyed way and got up, saying she needed to use the restroom. And that was the end of it.

I can only imagine the level of disappointment and frustration she must have felt. It must have been a horrendous experience for her.

I decided after that to become a master of cunnilingus so that any future women I encountered would be satisfied, if not by my penis, then my oral skills would more than make up for it.  And I did master the art.

While in graduate school at the University of Texas in Austin, I met and married a girl.  We had engaged in some sexual activity before our marriage, so she was aware of my micropenis.  However our marriage was short lived when I discovered she had been having sex with my then best friend.  When I confronted her with her lack of fidelity, she blamed my shortcomings as a lover and told me that my micropenis disgusted her.

Since that time I have mainly had sexual experiences with gay men, though I had a threesome with a woman that went very well.

Aside from personal experiences, the media doesn’t help my self-esteem either.  Men with small penis are an ongoing source of amusement in TV shows and movies.  I noticed that penis shaming was mostly reserved for villains and comic sidekicks who were never taken seriously.  There are more TV shows with “little dick jokes” than shows that don’t have them.   No shows make fun of women’s breast size, but targeting men with small penises as a source of humor seems to be socially acceptable.  All that tells me that the writers don’t really care if men with small penises are offended or hurt.

The way the media treats the body-shaming of men compared to the body-shaming of women is wildly different. When Donald Trump makes questionable comments about the looks of women, he rightly causes outrage. Lists and videos decrying his sexist remarks have gone viral. Yet when a naked model of Trump with a micropenis was displayed in public in New York City, it was treated like a punch line rather than an attack. Some publications even called it a wonderful piece of art. Hundreds of Americans now have selfies of them laughing at Trump and his micropenis. We defend Heidi Cruz and Megyn Kelly, but where are the people defending small penises?  I am no Trump supporter, but targeting him because of his small penis seems wrong.

GUYS WITH MICROPENISES KNOW THEY ARE NOT WELL-ENDOWED, THEY DON’T NEED REMINDING OF IT.

From my experience (having read hundreds of articles, forum posts, videos, and having spoken to hundreds of men and women online), it feels safe to say that the overwhelming majority of sexual partners aren't thrilled about the prospect of sex with micropenises. And if we don’t accept that these views are likely the majority, then we are never going to challenge this blatant discrimination.

I would like to ask people to think about this: If you are attracted to somebody enough to ask them to bed, and if the guy is kind to you, is it fair to write him off based on size alone?

So what do I plan to do about my love life?

Luckily I am bisexual and enjoy the company of men as well as women. I fear that straight men with the micropenis condition suffer worse shame than men in the gay community.  Let me be clear, a great many gay men are “size queens” and I have been rejected by more than a few gay men, but now that so many men can meet on line I have been able to meet men who actually “prefer” men with small dicks and so they are not surprised by what I have to offer when we meet.  Many of them enjoy SPH (Small Penis Humiliation), but in my life I have adapted to being the subject of humor and, in some cases, can even find that sexually arousing.

So the answer to that question is “nothing”. I try to focus my life on my work, my writing, working out, outdoors activities, sports, and other subjects that interest me. If I started to look for love, it would just make me feel down, and I already struggle with depression and anxiety secretly. I don’t need the humiliation and hurt that looking for love would bring me. Sure, everybody gets rejected, but usually for less hurtful reasons.  As a bottom, many men don’t care how well I am hung.  Instead they care about how I make them feel when they fuck me, and I have learned to be a power bottom.

Guys with micropenises know we are not well-endowed, we don’t need to be reminded of it. If I’m attracted to a sexual partner, then what they have in their pants doesn’t matter to me; I care more about what that partner has in his/her heart.  My extreme self-consciousness about my body makes me feel like everyone else's opinion must be right, that there is something wrong with my size. I just wish people could look past it, so I could too.  Because intellectually I know my size is just a variation.

I try to look at it this way.  Not everyone is attracted to red hair, or freckles, or blue eyes, or black skin, or hairy chests.   People are attracted to differing qualities.  As long as I can find some people who are interested in  the qualities I possess, and are also interested n me personally, than I am gratified.

[ifeveristoday]

I got out my DVDs for this rewatch (that’s not actually a big deal. I only have season 3 on DVD. 😂) so let’s get to it.

I forgot they did a cold open for this episode!

I know it’s for ambiance but man does Angel have a lot of candles displayed. Probably too ‘mainstream’ for his taste but the thought of Angel furtively going to a Bath and Bodyworks in the mall during their semi-annual sale and just buying out their whole candle selection gives me the purest joy. Let’s be real though, Angel would shop at some boutique/hole in the wall owned by a wizened old character with a twinkle in their eye and everything marked up 20%. Or it would be a steel and glass monstrosity with a collection labeled Candles for Men. That’s the range.

Back to the enormous fire hazard that this scene is -

Wait. Does fire burn on stone?

Shout out to the stunt doubles.

I think that Angel getting food for Buffy for a sort of alfresco picnic while training is really sweet, actually. Also, can't miss the opportunity for both carbs and phallic symbolism ala bread.

Everyone is so embarrassingly horny in this moment. I'd say get a room except they're in a whole giant mansion.

Always remember the bread! What did Angel do with the food after Buffy fled? Fed the no-doubt cursed pigeons that live in Sunnydale.

Thanks for the workout (insert stereotypical dirty laugh).

Oh yes, the awkward 'let's talk about your birthday without mentioning the last birthday you had at all because it's horrifying' chitchat. God, the anxiety Angel is radiating here and Buffy trying to smooth it over. You can't unfrost that trauma cake!

Angel, you utter dork. You're lucky Buffy finds you pretty. Very powerful himbo energy here. And it's nice to see some light-hearted flirting/banter between them.

How do you know when someone's aura's dirty? Buffy is only asking the reasonable questions everyone has.

Do you hear yourself, Giles. "I'm aware of your distaste in studying vibratory stones..." I can't imagine what that section of the Slayer handbook looks like. Are there pull-out charts?

Faith being conveniently gone for this episode. Boo, hiss.

That workout really did a number on Buffy. I see what you're doing with those crystals.

One of the sad parts of rewatching Buffy is that you just don't have the first time discovery feels of watching it - that magic is gone, but even though I know why Buffy's wobbling in her fight, the reveal is still upsetting. Thinking about how in Season 5, when she does get staked, just as she's questioning her powers - and here, where she's losing them.

Also, obvious observation is obvious - the sexual violence imagery is really, really blatant here - with the vampire crouched over her with the stake aimed toward her heart, just as she playfully staked Angel earlier in a more romantically set scene.

AND THEN THE THEME KICKS IN. Like, damn! Three minutes and you can pretty much tell what the plot is going to be - Buffy and Angel's UST is getting out of hand, Buffy's lone Rangering it, and something is wrong with her. And it's her birthday.

And Buffy's resourcefulness saves the day.

Perhaps you shouldn't be throwing knives in the library, Buffy.

Did they do a geography lesson on Cuernavaca? It's also just fun to say. Like La Cienega. Brief moment to ponder yet again about a show set in Southern California, actually shot in Southern California, with the huge Latine population we have and the Spanish-influenced names and culture and - getting sidetracked by all this casual 90s racism.

"We do it every year for my birthday," except your seventeenth, presumably because of the murderous ex-boyfriend stalking the town you live in and all your loved ones. [Or, he did take her and it was not shown on screen!] Sometimes I wonder if the continuity editors just go, you know, I'm going to let this one go for the 'emotion' and not just so years later, a Virgo with a deep-seated need to obsess over throwaway details will go into a thought spiral to make it make sense.

I think this is also the last time Hank Summers was spoken of with any real affection because then he was Deadbeat Dad for the remainder of the show. Oh, look. The Scoobies are surprised about the traditional birthday ice show that I'm going to nitpick about forever.

Oz is so supportive, and then the clunker of a 'deep' line of ice being cool because it's water then it's not. I do like the Whedonesque school of dialogue, but sometimes you gotta reel it back. I remember the dialogue on Dawson's Creek was getting pinged for the teenagers talking like grad students.

Quiet reflection. Oh you poor girl, you have no idea.

Quarterly projections - is a convincing filler phrase for when you don't need to know what the job is, because it's boring but sounds vaguely official. What does Hank actually do? Who cares! He's an asshole.

Sunnydale Arms, because of course, Sunnydale has a broken down abandoned murder hotel.

Quentin Travers. Boo. Hiss.

The scary music is very scary. Also one of the Council flunkies looks like a very young Vincent D'Onofrio.

This scene with them in the library is so bittersweet because Buffy is fishing for Giles's attention as a father figure substitute ("very sophisticated people go!" breaks my heart) and he pointedly is rejecting this for training talk.

Look for the flaw at its center. THE FLAW IS YOU GILES. YOU YOU YOU.

it's just so terrible, this scene because of how methodical and clinical it plays out. And Buffy is just not there, and then Giles smiles like nothing has happened.

Buffy makes it through another night - next day (another reason why this trial is so horrifying is that it takes place over several days - it's not on Buffy's birthday but leading up to it, so the idea of her getting weaker and weaker and unable to fight to make it to 18 in the first place) and it's time for the Cordelia has had enough of toxic masculinity scene!

Also, Willow blithely ignoring a person's feelings and treating Amy as just a rat is played for laughs and cuteness, but yeah...you can't treat people like puppets or rats [law and order sound]

I love Cordelia's coat. And also, while it does suck that she stood him up, he's not entitled to her time or attention and certainly not to threaten her. Go, Cordy! Fight like a girl! Yes! Pummel him into the hallway.

I also love Willow's outfit here because I think the colors are so complementary and warm and it's a cute outfit. Okay, the knit wooly hat is a bit too Blossom-esque, but whatever.

Buffy is tiny, we all know this, but I do think they purposefully dressed her in larger than her size coats in this episode to make her look even more tiny and vulnerable.

Giles is TOO BLASE for this scene also shut your mouth about throwing knives like a girl

"It's an archaic exercise in cruelty." SO WHY DID YOU GO ALONG WITH IT, BRAIN TRUST. (I am going to be very mean to Giles this whole rewatch, deal with it.)

"But I'm the one in the thick of it." No, you're not. You are going to be adjacent to it, at best.

Hey it's that guy!

Okay, in better lighting, flunkie does not look like Vincent D'Onofrio.

It's impossible to pin down one type of Vampire in the Whedonverse, except for the delineation between Grunt Bait Vampires, and Special Guest Star/Master vampires, but Kralik is the only other example of a vampire with mental illness besides Drusilla, yet he's medicated. Makes me wonder how exactly they got Kralik...he was a monster before he was a vampire, but who vamped him? I don't put it past the Watchers to have vampires created for this purpose.

Curse against lawyers!

Xander and Oz bonding over comic books is so fun. I regret they didn't really get closer until after Xander and Willow cheated because Oz was the one male friend Xander had.

They mentioned her birthday! Thinking about Buffy's love of poetry later on, this is a nice little detail, and it *is* a thoughtful, sweet gift. Also those poems: horny. Oh yes, maybe in a restrained way, but Elizabeth Barrett Browning knew what was up.

The Buffy and Angel relationship in season three is full of these starts and stops that I can see why and agree with others about how it's frustrating on a number of levels. They know why they can't be together, but they still try to find a common ground because they want to need the other one. They still have their identities to figure out - Buffy as the slayer and a young adult, Angel as a person, separate from Buffy and being Buffy's ex sort of maybe.

But this conversation in Helpless is genuinely sweet and a glimpse at what a normal couple at the crossroads would talk about - I think I'm also being soft on this because the other Important Male Figure in Buffy's life in this episode lets her down so spectacularly bad, that Angel being supportive and kind in his awkward way is a nice respite. It's good to be away from the angst and the horror that their relationship has had.

And the self-aware puncturing of the Moment between them is something Buffy does very well. "Taken literally, incredibly gross - I was just thinking that too". Look, it's cute and soft and I will allow it.

The horror of this episode (and there are so many) is that we have to watch Buffy become the helpless blonde in a slasher flick who is being chased by the monsters and she can't do anything about it - that she has to be rescued or die. That the real world with men catcalling and bystanders who ignore women's cries of distress is far scarier than the literal demons that inhabit the town - and Buffy brokenly saying she can't just be a person, she can't be helpless like that [like women are, still, today] is a gut punch. It's uncomfortable and unhappy because Buffy is supposed to be the hero, the [sigh] strong female lead who can kick ass and take names, and this episode is all about finding who Buffy is, separate from her super powers. Also an exercise in emotional torture, but must be Tuesday.

The physicality - the weakness that both Buffy and Giles display in this scene is so, so good. The way Buffy's hand trembles toward the needle in the case and the dawning realization of what Giles has done, has chosen to do - and he bloodlessly tells her what the Cruciamentum is.

Her tiny little "Liar."

GOD WHY DIDN'T SHE GET AN EMMY (rhetorical we all know genre tv only matters if it was Game of Rapey Thrones)

"You will be safe now, I promise you." LIAR.

Another puncturing a heavy moment - Cordelia as cavalry - I love it. Cordelia taking the most obvious approach to the situation - 'oh Buffy might have lost her memory, well he's Giles,'

I can't believe they robbed us of a conversation in the car scene with Cordy and Buffy.

Kralik had to have found a polaroid camera and a metallic sharpie for this whole scenario -- OH I KNOW WHO HE REMINDS ME OF. The Night Stalker and any number of serial killers that terrorized SoCal. Is the show being self-aware of the problem with mothers and parents in general?

Probably a glib accident.

I don't have much to say about the part where Buffy hunts Kralik because it's so masterfully done with the atmosphere and music.

Nice of Giles's backbone to enter the chat now.

This is not business. Ooo.

Buffy's "I thought I killed a man" emo overalls!

Like it's shadowy, but there's still enough light to see facial expressions. Lighting guy, I salute you.

Little red riding hood metaphor. Oh, that's so her stunt double.

CREEPY SEXUAL VIOLENCE REARS ITS DEFORMED HEAD AGAIN

Jump stair scare. I remember the first time I saw it, I jolted in the living room.

Serial Killer Shit. Why are vampires such drama queens?

THAT'S RIGHT, BUFFY DID THAT

The ending scene in the library is cathartic in that Buffy gets to stand up for herself finally, and recognizes what Giles gives up by helping her, delayed as it was, also there's the feeling of hate punching Quentin Travers via your eyes.

Still don't think she should have forgiven Giles so easily, but we don't get to see a lot of aftercare for Buffy when she gets hurt, and it is a very tender scene.

The Scoobies are being way too upbeat if they knew about the fact that Giles poisoned Buffy, which is why I'm assuming she told a very abbreviated version of events ending with Buffy killed the bad guy and Giles got fired, oops.

Xander's big strong man comment and then looking immediately to Willow to open the jar and not Oz...

I could watch this episode again with episode commentary from David Fury, but another day.

[shan2-d2]

As the garbage fire year of 2020 continues, I have been struggling to find something to fill the Schitt’s-Creek-sized hole in my heart.

Which, come to think of it, replaced the Parks-and-Rec-sized hole in my heart prior to that.  I’ve always been a sucker for “soft” television, but with everything going on the world, whatever tolerance I had for heavier fare has disappeared completely.  Like, yeah, I’d love to catch I May Destroy You or I’ll Be Gone in the Dark, but I just. Can’t. Handle. Them. Right now, anyway.  

I do have some old standards to fall back on-- Bob’s Burgers, The Good Place, The Great British Baking Show, and Kim’s Convenience (bless you, Canada) work just fine.  But with so much time at home, I’ve been getting antsy for new, soft, comforting content.

Then I watched Julie and the Phantoms on Netflix.

And I loved it SO. MUCH. 

(Warning, since this is a family-friendly show: profanity ahead.)

Which, I have to admit, I’m kind of embarrassed about.  Like, look: I fully own up to the fact that my tastes aren’t exactly refined or mature.  I’m one of those contemptible “childless millennials”, after all.  There are things on my Netflix and Spotify lists that would make film buffs and hipsters cry.

But what I will give myself a pat on the back for is that I’m extremely open-minded when it comes to any sort of art consumption.  My tastes are super-varied, and I don’t have the burden of worrying about what is “socially acceptable” for me to watch.  I can watch Barry and Fleabag just as happily as I can watch Sarah & Duck (literally, a show for preschoolers that works better than any anti-anxiety medication I’ve tried) and old episodes of Tiny Toon Adventures.

Regardless, there’s embarrassment. Which is not about the fact that it’s a cheesy, High-School-Musical-esque, pre-teen friendly series, actually (... okay, maybe a little), but because the aging freakout is real, my friends.  Hitting the “Oh-My-God, I’d-Have-To-Play-the-PARENT” period of your life is fucking rough.  

Basically, in the words of Roger Murtaugh... I’m too old for this shit.

But I’m trying to tell myself that 1) Generation Z is delightful and I refuse to feel guilt for appreciating them, 2) god knows we’re all watching Stranger Things without embarrassment, and those kids are, like, twelve, and 3) now that I’m apparently ANCIENT, I’m supposed to stop caring about what other people think.

So: Julie and the Phantoms made my heart grow three sizes and I loved it a whole lot.

Quick synopsis: Julie, our hero, is a performing arts school student who is grieving the death of her mom and unable to continue making/playing music because of it.  One day, three ghosts of teenage boys who were in a mid-90’s rock band show up in her garage.  They form a new band (insert title of show here) and help Julie rediscover her love of music, while she helps them navigate the afterlife.  Bonding occurs, lessons are learned, the power of friendship is discovered, you get the idea.

And okay-- at its surface, it’s family-friendly entertainment, you know? Cute story, funny moments, the music is catchy, the whole cast is super talented (and, hey, can actually play their instruments! Whaddaya know!).

But the CHARACTERS!  THE SOFTNESS! THE REPRESENTATION!  If this is how young adults are going to written from now on, sign me the fuck up.

First of all, the two female leads of the show are women of color-- Julie (Madison Reyes) is Latinx and her best friend, Flynn (Jadah Marie), is Black.  That alone is (sadly, STILL) noteworthy, but I literally wanted to stand on my couch and yell about how wonderfully self-assured, smart, mature, strong, and competent these girls are.  Julie, in particular, is just… she’s just so cool, you guys. She never once has to rely on anyone else but herself to get shit done, and she takes responsibility for her own actions.  The girl very clearly knows her talent, capabilities, and worth, and PHEW, do we need to see more young women like her on our screens!  Like, yes, the boys support her, but they’re complete equals.  Julie doesn’t need any male saviors up in this business. She’s got this.  I LOVE HER. I SOMEHOW WANT TO BE HER WHEN I GROW UP, EVEN THOUGH SHE’S LIKE HALF MY AGE (oh GOD. I’m so OLD).

In fact, throughout the series, the importance of honesty, respect, and healthy support is repeatedly emphasized.  There’s no dependency issues here, and lying of any kind is clearly forbidden.  Which I loved, because the whole “teen lying to everyone” storyline has been done to death.

Then there’s the three boys of Sunset Curve-- Luke (Charlie Gillespie), Alex (Owen Joyner), and Reggie (Jeremy Shada), i.e. the messengers of destruction for toxic masculinity.  THIS IS THE MALE FRIENDSHIP PORTRAYAL WE HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR, PEOPLE.  They’re so nice to each other! They’re so supportive! They’re tactile, openly emotional, and completely devoid of judgment of any interests or behaviors that don’t follow male social standards.  Bless the Age of the Soft Boys, may their reign be unbreakable and everlasting.

Oh, and Alex is openly gay.  It’s not just hinted at-- he’s out and proud, with an adorable crush/pre-relationship with a skater boy named Willie (Booboo Stewart).  And, apart from a quick mention about Alex’s parents being homophobic, the show pretty much takes the Schitt’s Creek route-- all love and acceptance, with not much of a thing made of his sexuality at all (in fact, there’s enough evidence that none of the boys are completely straight, and I’m here for that, too).

And if all of that isn’t enough of a cuddle to the heart for you, THERE’S MORE:

Julie’s supportive, soft dad

Reggie’s immediate, one-sided bond with Julie’s supportive, soft dad and her brother

Julie and Luke totally have crushes on each other and it’s SO SWEET but completely age-appropriate, good job guys

I’m a sucker for good harmonies and the band HAS ‘EM IN SPADES

Flynn being HBIC the entire series

Julie’s crush Nick being very realistically awkward and dopey in the shadow of Luke’s arms (Nick, dude, lose that HAT, I beg of you)

A surprisingly moving side-plot/song about Luke’s parents

Alex just wanting to dance, and also being a high-key feminist and calling out the others when they slip up

EVERYONE’S JUST SO FUCKING NICE, OKAY

So yeah. Shut up. It’s wonderful and pure, and I WILL TAKE ANY SOFTNESS I CAN GET IN THIS HELL YEAR, WHEREVER I CAN GET IT.

In conclusion, Kenny Ortega can have my entire soul if he wants it, for not only this but also Hocus Pocus and Newsies.

Completely Unnecessary Afterword:

Being old enough to remember 1995-- and, specifically, what was popular that year-- has brought up some important questions regarding the Sunset Curve boys:

We know they died in ‘95, but like… when? Did they get to see Empire Records, for Christ’s sake?! Did they see Casper, because, I mean, they’re basically the Devon Sawas of 2020?  Were they spared their contemporaries’ fate of constantly over-quoting Billy Madison and Tommy Boy?  

OH MY GOD, DID THEY HAVE AOL SCREEN NAMES, AND WHAT WERE THEY??

What are each of the guys’ favorite song off of Boyz II Men’s “II”? This is possibly the MOST IMPORTANT QUESTION.

Did they die before Jagged Little Pill came out?  That would kind of break my heart.  Not that I expect Julie to start portraying Alanis-levels of anger/angst, but ‘95 was a YEAR for women in rock.  Garbage, Hole, No Doubt, PJ Harvey, The Cranberries, Veruca Salt, Bjork, and countless others-- they all had massive hits that year.  I love the idea of Julie and the guys sitting around the garage listening to all of those women for inspiration.  Can we have a resurgence of female-led rock bands taking over the charts, please?

On a much more serious note, given where the AIDS crisis was in ‘95, it’s no wonder Alex is a nervous wreck. It’s not really something I expect the show to delve into, but man… getting transported to 2020 might’ve been a bit of a blessing (not that things are great now, but y’know, medical progress).

How in the world did none of them fall victim to the whole “white boys dressing hip-hop” trend back in ‘95? I mean… Clueless got it right. (Wait, did they make it to Clueless??)

[lambourngb]

Get me out of here - places to go when canon is complicated

It’s Day 3, time to celebrate those stories that I turn to when I can’t deal with canon, or when I don’t have the emotional energy to untangle all the emotions I have for what’s going on in canon. Alternative universes, the safe harbor for us. Below are a mix of rewrites of canon, remixes of canon, or out right not even set in Roswell- to fill every type distance you want from canon- from near to far.

The first story I’m reccing is a long one,- so pardon the very long review below.

my love is a life taker by @jocarthage (267,600) So one day, Jessi popped into discord to share a dream she had about timetravel and being able to save yourself in the past basically, particularly Alex getting to give his baby-self a hug, and we all went, “holy shit that’s a cool fic idea please write it!” and really reality sucks right now with quarantine and whatnot, so what better thing to do than follow a WIP? I can’t tell you how badly I needed to something to look forward to as I was staring down a milestone birthday with all my plans in tatters, and this story filled the void.

Okay- now about the actual story itself, the world building about time travel in this is incredible but easy to absorb. Jessi dumps you straight into the action in chapter 1 with Alex, at 28, assassinating an Iraqi intelligence agent in 2009 that averts a bomb that was planned on US forces. You learn so much about both the story-universe and Alex here- one, that even dressed in mask and killing someone, Alex is kind and uses morphine as an overdose and has arranged for his victim’s family to be compensated, you learn that time agents can only visit places they themselves have visited during that time, and Jesse Manes had dragged his son, who was ‘time aware’ to every place of war and ruin on the planet before he was 18 and that, Alex’s victim, even as he’s dying, recognizes what a shit childhood Alex had but that Alex doesn’t.

The next part is where Alex’s time crystal malfunctions, instead of returning him to 2018, it takes him to 1998 where an 8 year old Michael is getting beaten by his foster dad and Alex, out of his time line mysteriously, visible to only Michael, saves him, but only temporarily. We all know with abusers, until you’re out of the house, it’s just a matter of time before the next beating. However, with one act, Alex at 28 starts putting into action (even though he doesn’t recognize it at the time) the steps to save his own life as he works to save Michael from his childhood. Each mission, each jump through time, Alex meets Michael, always a year apart and only for 1000 seconds, or almost 17 minutes. Jessi takes you through some of the darkest points of US foreign policy, only as Alex takes control of his life, he also starts to change the missions, and change the world. The details of places, people, food, etc are authentic from the author’s experience, if you don’t click on the links at the end of the chapters and disappear down google-rabbit holes about the events in history, well- you’re made of stronger stuff than I am.  There are lots of heavy subjects discussed, but there’s always care and honesty behind the intent. The way Michael grows, the way Alex grows, and of course the journey to the present time when they could be together? It’s like pining on steroids but it’s so wonderful. I wish I could pull out one thing that I loved in particular in this story- but it’s impossible, only to say that I love that I could disappear completely within the confines of ‘my love is a life taker’ knowing that I would be kept safe by the author, that goodness prevails.


when I’m oceans away by @neapeaikea (28,000) this is a post-2008 shed canon-divergent AU where Alex Manes, after the best/worst night of his life bolts from Roswell and leaves Michael behind. 10 years later, on the hunt for a child conceived at Caulfield, Michael walks into a youth home in California and finds Alex. A few things, I love that this author writes an Alex who didn’t join the Air Force but still lost a leg, I don’t really enjoy disability erasure in modern AUs (I’m better at looking past that in historical or sci fi aus) . It’s pretty clear after five minutes that the connection between the two men is still there and strong despite anger, secrets and guilt. The teasing and flirting between them is great but so is the acceptance of baring their vulnerabilities. I loved the care they take with each other, and the tie in to an alien child is just so perfect.

Crucibles (series) @ninswhimsy (9,000)- I’m cheating and naming both here, but obviously nin had her finger on the pulse of fandom, by writing crusade-set queer stories before The Old Guard ever boomed into a fandom from the movie. I was lucky enough to trade DMs over the ideas of holiness and the body, and how Alex would have treated himself, certain of his doomed soul, and how Michael would have responded in turn. It’s no secret I love everything Nin writes, but this series stuck in my mind. I will be drifting off to sleep, and think about Alex walking through the ancient city of Aleppo, ready to be done with his burden and Michael there with soft palms and scented oil, and boom! I reach for my kindle to re-read it.

no regrets if we walk this new road by @andrea-lyn (97,000) This author has written so many amazing AUs, some quite far away from canon events like her Mummy AU or her Avengers AU, but I have to say, I have a very soft-spot for this rewrite of season 1 for a lot of reasons. I mean, it’s 2020, so my appetite for Cop!Max is definitely at an all-time low, so the idea of exchanging his job with Kyle’s was extremely appealing. At least Kyle is a POC holding the badge, not a white man like our canon. Anyway, politics aside, this story is special to me for the scorching good Isobel/Kyle relationship that develops, the way Isobel sharpens herself into a lawyer (not an event planner) and how Michael rounds his own edges off in turn by becoming a teacher (and being secretly married).  Each deviation from canon made complete sense once you alter the way Rosa’s death affects the pod squad, and how they covered it up ripples out toward Liz, Kyle, etc. 


Layer on layer, down on down by @dotsayers (9,440) I love sci-fi tropes, especially time-loops, but they are incredibly hard to write (I know, I abandoned mine a while ago) so this story stands out because of just how well done the execution is and also the angst. Michael in a time loop about Caulfield, like how great/agonizing is that? The plot is so good, how it ties into Caulfield and why it happens in the first place, like wow.  The care, and the hurt, and the fatigue that Michael has in this story, oh you just want to wrap him in a blanket. There’s a tiny throwaway line about how one of the first things Michael learned to do in foster care was to make himself heavy and unmovable- and you instantly picture kid!Michael not wanting to be removed from a house - like my heart broke! The structure of the story, with the background of his just how much he loves Alex but how badly it hurts to see him die, really makes this study of 1x12 special. Along with all the angst, there’s tiny gallows humor lines, so am I weird, that I laughed through a couple of these scenes even as Michael kept dying?

Petty pace by @aewriting (11,600) Aewriting has a couple of stellar AUs, so trying to pick just one was difficult, but I rather feel this story is sadly underappreciated it (mind the tags). It was a remix of @iwontbeyourmedicine ‘s fantastic ‘Freaky Friday’, where the humans and aliens swap roles. Alex in the role of Michael basically was something I had never pictured until Ly wrote that story, and now feel utterly changed by it, especially with this backstory- the idea of Jesse Manes bringing a foster child home? Incredibly well done because there’s an off the charts level of menace in this story. The way Jesse watches Alex, who at first mistakes it for how a pedophile might size up a victim, but then catches on quickly that it’s so much worse in a lot of ways. And Alex is such a loner in the beginning, even as he reconnects with his pod siblings Liz and Maria, he’s still planning on keeping his head down and leaving Roswell far behind. Like freedom is literally the only thing he can conceive of for himself, no real dreams outside of that until Michael slips under his defenses. I probably could have saved this story for angst day- because the second half of the story, if you don’t sob while you read it, then I dunno. It’s helpful to read Ly’s story right afterward as a reminder that things do get better for Alex ten years later. In a lot of ways this story is sadder than canon (though there’s no murder of Rosa/4th alien), I’m comforted that at least Alex has Liz in the aftermath, alike in heartache in a way that Michael didn’t have because of the pact he and Max made about Isobel in canon.

Unexpected tidings by @bestillmyslashyheart (24,800) Another rewrite of canon, that explores a couple of very interesting questions, like what would it look like if Michael never made it back to Roswell as a kid but met Alex by chance in 2008? Imagine the cornerstone of the Lost Decade love affair revolving around the mundane questions of a long distance relationship that wasn’t built on the pain of the shed or Rosa’s death? Marlo writes an amazing take on this, that is both real and deep with the normal couple problems, before introducing that spanner in the works of oh yeah, aliens are real. With Michael on the east coast, and Alex finishing off his service in Roswell, Project Shepherd still entangles Alex with Liz bringing him in on the secret in hopes that with his hacker skills he can track down the third alien child that Max and Iz remember so they can warn him. As interesting as the current plot was, I found myself absolutely revitted the slow piecemeal reveals that Marlo doled out about Alex and Michael’s relationship over time. (I also while rereading this recently got very nostaglic for season 1 Alex who didn’t trust Jesse as far as he could toss him.) 

Don’t Punish Me For What I Feel by @winged-fool (3,600) Tarsus IV AU - another wonderful author with a catalog of great AUs, both sci-fi and dark, and honestly it was difficult to narrow it down to one. This story, well in 2009 I was a hard core Trek movie fan, so when I saw a trek-fusion story appear, I knew I would love it just on that basis. The thing is, this gave me Michael as the Captain, a surprisingly rare role for these space fusions, even though genius level repeat offender Jim Kirk and genius level repeat offender Michael Guerin seems pretty married in my mind as a connection. As a Tarsus-like story, all the tags are well earned by the story that Alex finally shares with Michael. It hit on so many levels, the hurt/comfort level for sure, but also to have a story where Michael is this stalwart protector of Alex was really nice to find. 

this isn’t the ‘holiday best friends championship’ by @usbournejez (6,090) alright to leave this on a lighter note, my final AU rec is this masterpiece by Kieran that was part of Malex Secret Santa gift fics- and what a gift it was to all of us! The way she writes established Malex is first-rate, because she always includes their canon-levels of snark/sharpness but it’s never directed at each other and that’s something I love. Here we have Alex, where we learn in just a few short lines, is a huge control freak but has the extremely big emotional handicap, and that’s his love/fondness/deserve to caretake Michael. Emotional cactus Alex who is soft for Michael? Love it. There are small drops of angsty backstory peppered in this, but really that just fuels just how sweet and wonderful the main theme of the story- which is Alex might hate the whole world at large, he loves, protects and worships Michael (and vice versa). As someone who can bake cookies, but that’s about it, I was still enthralled with the baking details and this story has never failed to encourage me to eat dessert before dinner basically. 

[freshlyjuicedbeetles]

Commodore Norrington x Reader Fic! Chapter 2

Dearest Readers: If you are in Galveston or the coast of Louisiana, please make sure you are safe! Please, no one worry about me, I’m in Oklahoma, safe from Hurricane Laura. I know a lot about Galveston because I visit regularly, and it’s where my grandma was born and raised, and grandpa was stationed in the Coast Guard. A lot of my family history took place on the island!

Title: The Same Water

Genre: Romance, Supernatural

Rating: General Audiences thus far.

Warnings: Mentions of trauma, drowning, and racism.

Summary: Commodore Norrington washes up on the shore and you must find out why.

Notes: I intentionally kept the main character ambiguous (but female) so readers can fill themselves in!

The next morning, Jericka and I visited the man. We sat mostly in silence.  I barely registered the bustle of the hospital and the beeping of the machines he was connected to. I was still buzzing from yesterday. I was still in a bit of shock about what had happened and was trying to process it. He was on an IV drip of saline, a nasal cannula, and a heart monitor.

“Good morning, ladies!” Dr. Greg said, cheerfully, a chart in his hand. “So, I ran his blood sample, and it yielded interesting results. This man has no titers for anything we currently vaccinate for, but he has antibodies for smallpox. Thus, I can assume he was never vaccinated but survived smallpox.”

Jericka whispered in my ear, eagerly, “I’m telling you! He was a part of that mess my nana told me about! I bet he was the Admiral! What’s the more likely scenario here?”

“I dunno. Maybe he’s Amish or something,” I shrugged. I turned back to Dr. Greg, “What do you think it means?”

“Logically, I would say his parents didn’t believe in the efficacy of vaccinations.” He answered.

“Or they weren’t invented yet,” Jericka muttered.

The man started coughing. Dr. Greg rushed to his side.

“It’s okay, sir, we’re taking care of you. You’re at the University of Texas Medical Branch. My name is Dr. Greg. We’ve got you on supplemental oxygen and IV fluids.” He said in a calm voice as he checked the man’s vitals manually, even though the machines were monitoring him. “Can you tell us your name?” He asked.

“Norrington…James.” The man answered, and I was able to register an English accent. He opened his eyes, still confused.

“Good, do you know what day it is, James?”

“May…1729.”

The doctor chuckled, “No, not quite. Do you know who the president is?”

Norrington had slipped back into unconsciousness. Dr. Greg continued to check over him before saying, “He’s getting stronger. I expect him to be in and out today, but tomorrow is a new day.”

After Dr. Greg left, I scrambled to my phone.

“Google his name! Google! Google it!” Jericka ranted.

“I am, I am!” I said, typing the name.

I hit pay dirt. He had a Wikipedia article and dozens of other sources. “James Norrington was an officer of the British Royal Navy and the East India Trading Company. Bewigged and resplendent in his uniforms, Norrington owed his allegiance to King George II. Norrington took pride in his service to others before himself, showing a strong dedication to the law, until the occasions of pursuing the right course that demanded acts of piracy.” I read it aloud.

I continued scrolling with Jericka watching. I skimmed the article. It talked about his early life in London, the notable battles and commendations he earned. I scrolled back up to the biographical information bar. I had purposely ignored looking at the painting of Admiral James Norrington because I wasn’t ready to confirm if the man in the hospital bed was him or not until now.

I stood up and held my phone up to his face against the painting on the article. Jericka’s eyes widened, and my heart raced.

“It’s him,” I said.

“Am I in the colonies?” He asked, not opening his eyes. I must have jumped a foot back, not expecting him to reawaken so soon.

“Yeah, well, sort of,” I answered.

“The colonies declared independence in 1776. There are fifty more called the United States of America. It’s currently the year 2020.” Jericka explained.

“Do you understand what’s going on?” I asked gently.

“Indeed,” He answered and took a deep breath. He opened his eyes.

“You’ve must have seen some things if you’re taking this news so calmly,” Jericka said.

Norrington remained quiet, the far-off look of stoic contemplation on his face. Jericka and I gave him his space to sort it all out but stayed close to keep him company. Dr. Greg returned a little before lunch to check on him and was happy to see him awake. He pulled us aside into the hallway after a quick examination of Norrington’s reflexes and cognition.

“I am releasing him into your care tomorrow. If desired, of course. We’ll continue an investigation, maybe he’ll turn out to be a missing John Doe, but since no foul play is suspected, it’s not likely to go anywhere. Here’s some information about services that can help him.”

I took the information, “I’ll take him. I have an extra room.” I didn’t even look at them. I wasn’t about to let him get lost in the system and fall through the cracks. This was something extraordinary. I couldn’t bear for him to be treated like a freak show.

When the nurse came in with lunch, Jericka and I excused ourselves to the cafeteria.

“We’ve got to get him some clothes. He can’t run around in that hospital gown, and his uniform is at the police station being tested for fibers and whatnot.” I said, toying with an empty bottle of water.

“Dang. How do we dress a high-class guy from the 1700s?” Jericka asked, eating a bag of chips. “Whose closet do we raid? Our dad’s or our grandpa’s?”

“I dunno, but the Coast Guard Station over on Fort Point Road is looking pretty good. Think they’ll let us use their uniforms?” I joked.

“I’d think he’d miss the brocade and feathers,” Jericka said, popping a chip into her mouth.

I sighed, “Well, I’m heading over to Houston, maybe I can find something. Can you sit with him?”

“Yeah, of course.”

As I drove over the causeway that connected the Island of Galveston to the mainland, I thought about how I would explain things to Admiral Norrington. How would I explain a car? Electricity? I barely knew how such things worked. Maybe I needed to get him a book.

I had to guestimate his sizes; I didn’t want to embarrass him by outright asking him. I could tell he was very reserved, even for someone from his time. I went for conservative styles and patterns, quality, and modesty. Even men back then tended to cover up. I had to balance the Texas heat against it. I made sure to have a fair amount of navy blue, gold, and white.

I found several outfits that I knew he’d look good in and hoped he found comfortable. He was a very handsome man with aquiline features, short chestnut hair, and beautiful eyes. I suppose the powdered wig he wore in his portrait did not make it.

After procuring his clothes and other sundries, I zipped over to Barnes and Noble for a history book. I settled on a hefty book by the Smithsonian that spanned the dawn of humanity up until the present day; well, 2015.

On the way back over the causeway, I had to wonder about what I would do with him come Monday when I went to work. Would he be okay on his own? Should I take the day off? I didn’t want to smother him or disrespect his abilities. Maybe it was a good thing he was a high-ranking military man, they were logical, right? He would probably be okay.

I found Jericka in the hallway upon arriving back at the hospital, “Has he said anything?”

She shrugged, “Not really. He’s still processing everything. They’re taking him off all those machines and IV right now.”

After the nurses left, Jericka and I entered his room. He was looking at his hand where the IV was.

“Hello, Admiral. We never got a chance to introduce ourselves.” I introduced myself and Jericka. “Tomorrow, you’ll come home with me if that’s alright with you.”

He nodded, “I suppose that is for the best, but don’t call me Admiral. James will suffice.”

Jericka and I were surprised that he didn’t want to be addressed by his title. I decided not to question it. “I got you some clothes and this,” I said, pulling out the book and handed it to him. He looked at it with interest and immediately started flipping pages. “It’s the history of the world. Of course, you can ask either of us anything.”

Jericka nodded earnestly.

“I appreciate your charity,” Norrington replied. “I endeavor not to be a burden.”

“No, no, no! Never think that.” I said.

“Yeah, you’re stuck with us.” Jericka teased.

Jericka and I vowed that nothing would happen to this man.

James was released the following evening. He was dressed in the new clothes I bought for him. He looked perfect in them and didn’t seem to mind them. I must have done well!

As we were walking out of the hospital, there was crowding at the door. It was a going home celebration. James and I smushed ourselves against the wall, waiting for the ado to die down, and we could leave.

A patient was wheeled in from the opposite corridor. We watched as a nurse wheeled him to the edge of the entryway. On new titanium legs, this man stood and walked out with his family. He was in the Navy; I could tell by the signs his family and care team were holding.

I could tell this experience moved James, he wanted to say something to the young soldier but thought better of it.

I purposely kept the car ride as underwhelming as possible. I turned the radio off and kept the A/C blowing gently. He seemed to be taking it all in stride, learning from my actions.

James mostly watched the water as we drove the short drive home, occasionally interested in the wide range of vehicles on the road; cars, trucks, vans, golf carts, motorcycles, and four-seater bikes.

“I see that the seagulls and pelicans are just as intrusive as always.” He commented, watching a horde of seabirds steal tourists’ food.

I giggled, enjoying the familiarity. We had something in common, and it was a link to his past.

Home was a raised bungalow on a heavily tree-lined street.

James looked at the stilts it rested on, “For flooding?” He asked.

“Exactly. Galveston has had several bad hurricanes hit, but the house has weathered them all. It’s up high enough that you can go around back and see a bit of the Gulf.”

I showed James to the guest room and how a modern home worked. After dinner, I gave him his space. Around midnight, I heard a door sensor chime. I found James sitting on the balcony, watching the ocean ebb and flow. I sat down across from him.

“How are you doing?”

“It’s overwhelming.” He answered, “I have so much to learn, new vocabulary, all the major events. I cannot fathom how much progress I have missed, but the ocean is the same, and I take comfort in that.”

“Well, if you’d like, we can get out on the water tomorrow. I’ll show you around the island.”

“You know how to sail?”

I laughed, “No, my boat has an engine, but I assure you that the art of sailing by wind has not been lost yet.”

For the first time, I saw a genuine smile on his face, “I’d like that.”

I endeavored to make him smile that cute boyish smile as much as possible.

[blogspersonal707]

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[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

5sos Lyrical Analysis

A/N: Hi! I just wanted to start this off with a huge thanks to everyone that sent me in lyrics. This project has been two fold: Part one is just looking at certain lyrics, for my found poem series. This just means I want to use and even respond to certain lyrics in my poems. I compiled them into two separate lists:

Find Youngblood here.  

Find CALM here. 

The second part was to take a close look at the overlap in lyrical content between Youngblood and CALM. This is NOT a complete analysis of their lyrics. I wanted to make that clear. I am by no means intending on making a complete analysis of their lyrics. I am not even attempting to make a completely analysis of these two albums, though I’ll touch as many basis as possible. 

Please note: I am using the phrase ‘narrator.’ One, this is an old habit carried on from all the close readings I did on poetry. There’s typically, out of respect, a division between the author of the work and the narrator of the piece presented. These two can, and sometimes do, overlap, especially in forms like poetry. But I feel it’s important to use ‘narrator’ even in this analysis. Old habits die really hard and sometimes never do. But also because it feels more respectful to assume a collective unit and unified front rather than trying to piece apart the personal experience to a specific member since I am looking at just the lyrics, I’m not scoping out Twitter, or IG, or Cocktail Chats. I know those connections are there. The only thing I wanted to focus on was the content of the lyrics as they are presented, solo, nothing else. I recognize and understand that each member is bringing a unique experience to the table and there is plenty more in these songs if those other pieces are added. 

These are gonna be a little disjointed. I’ve been staring at lyrics and notes for two weeks at this point, almost. I’m sorry it’s not necessarily a more cohesive front. So please enjoy! And feel free to send your thoughts!

All that are below are my personal opinions. 

I’m just going to hit the ground running. I’ll be including pictures of the chart and then a paragraph of my thoughts below them. 

CW: Mentions of drugs (recreational and prescribed)! Just in case anyone is sensitive to that.

Enjoy below!

Youngblood deals with heartache, but there’s an internal struggle on how to heal and move on. So in songs like “Better Man” and “Monster Among Men” that internal struggle is seen via introspection. In CALM, the same sense of struggle is seen in “Red Desert” and “Old Me”. However, an interesting deviation occurs in the lyrics of “Teeth” where now there’s a very specific identification of a person that the narrator sees as causing them turmoil. I’d like to note in both albums there’s a clear you present in both albums, which is a source of heartbreak and pain and even that you is addressed in several songs. However, “Teeth” stands out because of the you just being transformed from just a human that receives and dishes out pain, into the personification of a devil. This you in a way seems to have lost their humanity. And perhaps to the narrator there is a small appeal to that, with the addition of “put your hands on me.” An important thing to note is that while Youngblood and CALM never fully resolve their issues, but there is growth and maturing that’s heavily seen in CALM.

In some ways, I am about to state the obvious: Fire is destructive and flames takes no prisoners. However, an interesting thing about something that is destroyed is that it leaves in its place the opportunity for something new, and potentially better to be planted. “Valentine” leaves behind a feeling of combination, intertwining with “so deep, your DNA’s being messed with my tough/ Can’t beat us/ So real, fueling the fire until we combust”. And even though it seems to lead to an explosive end, the point here seems to be much more focused on the journey, riding the high no matter what. This is a theme, that I think, heavily seeps through Youngblood. Youngblood seems less focused on the results and much more focused on the journey, the ups and downs, the pleasure and pain. There’s a search in Youngblood, a quest for answers that in some ways CALM answers. One such answer can be see in CALM’s “Old Me” with the line “Ashes on the floor, but I’m walkin’, walkin’, walkin’ out of here alive.” Even though the journey might of ended in flames and destructive, the narrator still remains, they are still able to come out on the other side of everything they have endured. Another answer resides in “Lover of Mine” where the narrator is asking in some ways that their loved one to use fire for rebirth of the relationship with the lines, “All of my regrets and things you can’t forget/ Light them all up, kiss them goodbye.”

On the opposite end of the search and possibly more aligned with yearning, in Youngblood with “Babylon.” The chorus centers around taking the adventure of love to it’s highest point but the aftermath of the crash as well “We both said we’d love higher than we knew we could go” and “Burn to bright, now the fire’s gone, Watch it all fall down.” I will come back with more on Babylon further on.

A lot of Youngblood is a struggle of man vs. himself, an internal struggle to let go, to move on, to figure out one’s identity. In CALM that struggle remains present, but a new conflict is presented, in the form of a relationship. We can see in Teeth the narrator has started to directly reference a “you” where conflict now resides, “Some nights you’re the only thing I know/ Only thing burning when the night grows cold”. I like to conclude that there is a hot and cold aspect to the relationship that the narrator is seeing. In a previous line, “Sometimes when I look at you, I see my wife,” the narrator expresses that there are some redeeming qualities, that there is some good. Whether not this is the exact same relationship as discussed in Teeth is not a question I want to undertake, however, in “Lonely Heart” there’s a reference back to the bad, “Our house on fire, we’re burning/ We dance inside, you’re hurting.” Not all that glitters is good proves itself right once again. 

I combined the light and dark with the night and day imagery. I did so for space sake. This could easily be double the size it is currently, but also because there is sometimes the passage of time associated with the both light and dark and night and day. They are transitions. The transitions in Youngblood and CALM occur with lyrics like “I saw you looking brand new overnight” from “Lie To Me” “Call me in the morning to apologize/ Every little lie gives me butterflies” from “Teeth” and “I don’t wanna kill my time with anyone else/Dancing in the dark till the sun comes” from “Kill My Time”

I also choose to separate out the light and dark from other color imagery because of the way it echoed and resonated with daylight, moonlight, midnight and creating shadows in the lyrics. There’s a very specific sense of time in some songs. In Lie To Me we get the reference “3:00 AM and the moonlight is testing me” paired up right against “if I make it till dawn it won’t be hard to see/ I ain’t happy.” The passage of time, or rather the supposed passage in Lie To Me, illustrates how things can change, or be shaped and molded. 

A pretty cool thing I noted is that there’s references to time with  “midnight, daylight, 3:00 AM, tonight” and that brings along the brightness of and the absence of the sun and light where as in particular with No Shame the only reference to light if from a camera flashing. This made me wonder more about the appearance of light and perception. There is a face that the narrator knows is only seen captured by photographs and while at events with the bulbs of a camera and the true face of themself that only they would get to experience. 

I included this section about drugs and alcohol to illustrate a certain aspect of growing up. I’m not attempting to romanticize any use of drugs, alcohol, or nicotine. These are statements, from the narrator, that yes they have used them. But this is about the narrator’s experience. And I, as little old me, ask is that you please be careful out there!

 Back to the lyrics, it’s fascinating to see how the relationship with substances as evolved. If we start towards the end of Youngblood, we get a tale of the narrator and their best hosting a party while parents are out of town, having the cops called on the party, and then riding out in the car, continuing the party, but at a much smaller capacity in “Best Friend” to a very helpless feeling in “Why Don’t You Love Me” with it’s line, “Few drinks deep at a table for one. and then we expanse to “Get you high when I’m high” and “Sugar coated brain, the fluid ain’t to blame, for the sugar coated pain” in “Empty Wallets” to a memory, the reality that even parts of our life journey that weren’t great for us can still be missed with the lyrics in High “And I’ll always miss the memories of the morning we were high.’ The question can continue further to the point: Does the mentality create a challenge for recovering and moving on? And I personally think, sometimes yes it can. In other times, we can still remember those moments but ultimately realize that there is better progress made by moving forward. 

We do get a reference to Xanax. Notably, it is a benzodiazepine which are notoriously hard and dangerous (if not done right and with professional help) to get off once a person starts using them. But they are effective for some. Done with my tangent now, let’s get back to the focus: The lyrics in “No Shame” in which the narrator sees the “you” or significant other dumping their pills and being “so sick” of them is really crucial. I think it touches on how hard trying to get better can be for the person experiencing it. 

On a much lighter note though, we can move to colors! I personally see a lot of color (or feel like when I’m listening to certain songs I should be wearing a certain color, which I’m sure sounds crazy) when I listen to Youngblood. I was intrigued though to look for the use of color and even images that evoke a certain color. I didn’t find a whole lot of it, including CALM. Which seems pretty consistent. I don’t see a lot of visual components to their lyrics. The soundscape of the albums appears to be the backbone for a lot of the colors, I feel. And the emotional impact seems to the their larger focus when they write. 

Particularly cool lines that have color or color imagery in them, in my finding were “Fragile, always ‘about to fall just like sand/Castles” from “Monster Among Men,” “We’re classic together like Egyptian gold” from “Valentine” “It was more than just a neon weekend” from “Woke Up In Japan” and “Red, red desert/ Heal our blues/ ...Twilight moments with you” from “Red Desert”. The twilight line in Red Desert gives a purple vibe, or at least I see the color purple there and I can only wonder if it’s because I was prepped beforehand with the colors red and blue. However it works, I think it was a brilliant choice to couple twlight after it, to paint a full picture. “Neon weekend” should just be tattooed across my forehead because it gives off such a vibrant and bright life that nestles in very well with the energy of Youngblood’s entire album. 

A slightly related note, I pulled a couple instance of the phrase “heart” for this section. I wasn’t sure if others associated the color red with it. I did however think that the use of “blood on my shirt” “roses” and even “sirens” left me with the impression of colors, specifically blue and a small bit of blue for the sirens. 

There were two really strong parallels when it came down to the use of “dancing” throughout the albums. In “Ghost of You” we get the lines, “Dancing through our house with the ghost of you/ ...And I’ll chase it down with a shot of truth/That my feet don’t dance like they did with you”. It’s almost direct parallel is in “Lover of Mine” with it’s lines “Dance around the living room/Lose me in the sight of you/I’ve seen the red, I’ve seen the blue/ Take all of me.” I personally wonder if one could spin this, as so that Lover of Mine could take place before Ghost of You. However, that’s the poet and author in me looking for the story and strings. 

A crazy parallel I noticed was between “Empty Wallets” and “Lonely Hear” I promise here I won’t be pulling the red strings. In Empty Wallets there’s the sentiment of hurting and forgiveness, with of course that blood pumping rush of youth with, “Living our lives/ Dancing on empty wallets/ Spend it all on you” and “I always believed in second chances/ I always believed in you”. And it sorts bumps against and shares a space with “We dance inside, you’re hurtin’” and “Can I get a second chance? Can I have another dance? Can I have another life with you” from Lonely Heart, where we see this urge with the narrator to make up for their wrongdoing and recognize the pain caused to the other person in this relationship. 

I can’t talk about Youngblood and CALM without mentioning the strong growth that’s come from the former to the latter. It would be an utter disservice to the different roles these albums play. Youngblood is so much about loss and growing up and fumbling through life in a way where the counterpart CALM is more about finally get a handle on all those questions and growing from them. 

The strongest parallel I gathered was from the insistences in Better Man and Old Me. I recognize that Better Man overall has this echo of love, and finding someone else that helped them through the growing pains. But I think it’s worth noting that in the context of Old Me there’s an acceptance to the fuck ups, there’s an acceptance shit had to go bad to finally find what was wrong. I think the strongest lyric to this point is in Old Me “Another round, here we go, going in blow for blow/ Look into the mirror, take the punches that I throw” and “Had to fuck it up before I really got to know me/ All of the mistakes I made, I made, I made, I made/ Whatever the price I paid, I paid, I paid, I paid.”

I added a chart about the phrase “letting go” of which a lot of it is about how it’s hard to let go. Which I mean, is very accurate and relatable. The most explicit example is in “When You Walk Away” with the lines “I’m bad at letting go/ Won’t you let me down easy?/I can’t let you go” this sentiment is paralleled several times in CALM as well, one example in particular is in “Not in the Same Way” with the lines “You say, ‘Go’ I won’t leave” and “Turn right around, throwin’ rocks at your window.” If walking away was easier, I don’t think we’d have the albums that we got from the band. I wanted to include this section with change and growth but it would just be too long and too much. So I broke it up, chart wise. 

Alas, I’ve returned to Babylon! First though, I want to touch on overall on the way this chart is set up. I tried to explicit lyrics of “fatal love” but I did expand my criteria. So it if it looks a little wonky and long, I do apologize. 

Now, some really cool overlaps I noticed where between “When You Walk Away” and “Not in the Same Way.” It’s the particular phrasing on how gut wrenching love can be sometimes. In “When You Walk Away,” the narrator states with the opening! which is a really crazy but strong way to open “Cut me open, take my heart/ So we’ll never be apart.”  When we look at “Not In The Same Way” we get a very similar wording “Rip my heart out and leave, on the floor, watch me bleed.” The first song, “When You Walk Away” is a bit more a plea to be saved from the heartache and “Not in the Same Way” is more of a statement, it’s more like the narrator saying this is what you’ve done to me. 

Okay, we all know how much I love Babylon. If not, check out this post. But to summarize why Babylon fits into this narrative of fatal love, it’s because of the cyclical nature of this relationship that the narrator is in. A historical reference Babylon alludes to the fact that the narrator knows this relationship wasn’t truly built to last. Babylon was built, destroyed, rebuilt, and then destroyed again. And this relationship seems to keep burning at both ends, almost falling apart and then it’s saved, only for it fall.  

To quote myself from the Babylon post, “ ‘Your short fuse, my half-truths are not amused.” like both y’all are our contributing to the problem, one is EXPLOSIVE, one is reserved and that’s a combination bound to cause friction in a relationship, romantic or other, and there’s no blame in the way it’s said. “I wish we had a clue to start new.” LIKE, clearly this shit isn’t working but neither one of us knows how to really fix it besides to watching the flame burn out and when it burns, she roars, she takes down everything with it, i.e. “We watch it all burn down.”’ Alas, we’ve gone back to that destructive nature fire. And we’re with the narrator where all that is left are the ashes. Love is fatal because it really can destroy everything that we’ve only known. 

The next few charts are just for funsies, I did some more direct comparisons. If you want further thoughts, you can hit me up. But this post is already miles long! Thanks for reading!

____

Tagging: @compulsiveidiota @pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles @5-secondsofcolor​ @calumscalm​

[umami-ty]

warning in advance that this is a total word-salad ramble! i'm more processing things than really having concrete thoughts, but i felt like it might help to get them down somewhere.

so i'm currently in the middle of a tcw re-watch, in which i'm tracking the things that the clones call each other, name and specific rank aside. trooper? brother? men? we clones? not for any grand purpose- i was thinking about re-watching the series in chronological order to get a better sense of the timeline, and i was thinking about the way that we use vod so extensively in fanworks, and how it never appears in the show. i wondered, what language do clones use to think about themselves and each other in canon, and what is the context of that language?

it's an odd thing to fixate on, but it's been an interesting framework for me to look at the series through, and it passes the time as i fold laundry or do data work or draw on my couch. i have a little spreadsheet, in which i slowly tick off every "men!" or "trooper" or "brother" as they go by. when none occur, i mark the episode row in red, so that my eyes can more easily skip over it as i read back. often in these episodes, no clones talk to each other. sometimes they only refer to each other by name or rank. interesting data points in a different way, but i made the decision not to track them when i began- because most of my curiosity was about how clones think of themselves as a group of people.

this is all to say: i am watching the citadel arc right now- a three episode arc coming right on the heels of about a dozen episodes in a row marked in red on my chart, largely ones with no clones in them. the citadel arc, in case that doesn't ring a bell, features a strike team of clones from the 212th and 501st under their respective jedi, infiltrating a separatist prison to retrieve captured master evan piell. cody, rex, echo and fives are on the mission- the named clones we've spent the most time with in the series so far. many of the clones with them die in the attempt, in some of the most gruesome ways that the series ever shows clones dying. echo, one of our favorites, appears to have been killed.

so i was really surprised, remembering this arc as i do, to find myself marking it in red on my spreadsheet as i finished the third episode.

because in my own mind's eye, this was an arc that is about clones. echo's apparent death is one of the most important moments in the series for me emotionally. the deaths of the clones we see die feel very painful, often because they seem preventable, and because their friends call out so desperately after them as they fall. those individual moments seem so very human- but they are set within episodes where, although they are very present, we hardly see clones talk to each other at all.

and that is just so interesting to me. the story trades on their humanity when it shows their deaths, very deliberately underlining how horrible they are, but the episode point of view is so emphatically from the perspective of the jedi that those moments feel... out of place? jarring? like they're the wrong size for the room afforded to them in the story. there's no emotional context provided to soften them, because the jedi don't have it, and we can only see through their eyes. are the clones talking to each other on private comms? the jedi can't hear them if they are. do they take moments as the group rests to process? we see them sometimes move towards each other in the background of those scenes, duck heads together, but we never hear their conversations, because they're too far away from the trio.

i think that dissonance between the limitations of that strong point of view, and the extremity of what we are shown, is what makes these episodes ones that i see being often relitigated in fanfiction. it's unsatisfying to see the narrative linger sentimentally over the death of a jedi only just introduced, when the death of echo, a character that we the viewer AND all the named clones present have a bond with, is barely paused over. it feels Unfair, and the kind of reader who writes fanfiction often is the kind who wants closure for that kind of "narrative" injustice.

and i am also thinking more broadly about the effect of this kind of limited POV on the series (and all those red rows), i guess? and the way that so much of the clones' emotions, their inner lives, their small and large tragedies et cetera, exist in the margins of someone else's story, and how that can paradoxically draw our attention to them sometimes. a jedi master is lowered into lava to swelling music, while echo's death is only present in the way fives looks back behind him too long, wearing a helmet that hides his face. and between the two the lasting impression this episode left on me months ago was apparently, 'what did his face look like'?

[need-a-new-hobby]

Amplification

It was Sunday. Piper finally had a day off. So, why the hell was she still at work? She eyed the mountain of paperwork on her desk maliciously. “Maybe don’t murder the files.”

“You know, Gideon never told me there’s be this much paperwork, Jayje.” She accepted the cup of coffee from JJ and leaned back in her chair.

“It’s worth it though, right?”

“Every damn day.” Piper laughed. “Why are you still here anyway? Go, be with your son. Be free.” JJ laughed.

“Nah, Will’s spending the day with him and I know better than to be between two boys.” Piper nodded slowly until JJ’s cell buzzed. “Okay, thank you. I’ll alert the team as soon as possible. Yes, thank you.” She flipped the cell shut, slipping it into her pocket.

“What’s up?”

“We have a case. It’s bad.”

“How bad?”

“Remember Amerithrax?”

“No,” Piper whispered.

“It’s worse. Can you call Emily and Garcia? I’ll try and reach Derek and Spencer.” Piper nodded dutifully, reaching for her phone. Hotch walked in with a young Asian woman while Piper was on the phone with Garcia. Done with her first job, she rushed up to Hotch’s office. JJ went to update Piper, only to see her already in Hotch’s office being introduced to the doctor and throw something down her throat. She saw Piper nod to something Hotch directed and scramble to her desk with a file in hand. She gave JJ a quick hug before grabbing the keys to her Yamaha downstairs and helmet from under her desk.

About a half hour later, Spencer walked into the bullpen, only to see it covered with people in military uniform. Emily and Derek caught up to him. “What the hell is going on?” Derek’s voice was a murmur and they weaved through the crowd to the conference room to meet JJ, a young Asian doctor, Hotch and Rossi. Spencer noticed someone missing, but before he could voice it, Derek repeated the question and JJ explained.

“Guys, this is Dr. Linda Kimura, chief of special pathogens with the CDC. Last night, 25 people checked into emergency rooms in and around Annapolis. They were all at the same park after 2 pm yesterday. Within 10 hours, the first victim died. It's now just past 7 a.m. The next day, we have 12 dead.”

“Lung failure and black lesions,” Derek noted from his glance into the file. “Anthrax?”

“Anthrax doesn't kill this fast.”

“This strain does,” Dr Kimura added.

“What are we doing about potential mass targets— airports, malls, trains?” Emily looked to Hotch.

“There's a media blackout.”

“We aren’t telling the public?”

“We'd have a mass exodus,” Derek explained.

“The psychology of group panic would cause more deaths than this last attack,” Rossi continued.

“Yeah, and if it does get out, whoever did this might go underground or destroy their samples,” Hotch finished.

“Or if they wanted attention and didn't get it, they might attack again,” Emily contradicted. “Doesn't the public have the right to know that?”

“If there is another attack, there's no way we'll be able to keep it quiet. Our best chance of protecting the public is by building a profile as quickly as we can.”

“What do we know about this strain?”

“The spores are weaponized, reduced to a respiral ideal that attacks deep in the lungs. Odorless and invisible.”

“A sophisticated strain,” Rossi noted. “Only a scientist would know how to do that.”

“These lesions are doubling in size in a matter of hours,” Derek pointed out.

“It's not the lesions I'm worried about,” Dr Kimura commented. “It's the lungs. We don't know how to combat the toxins once they're inside. And the reality is, we may lose them all.”

“The remaining survivors have been moved to a special wing at Walter Reed hospital,” JJ added. “Our offices will become a small command centre and there are already military scientists out there from Fort Detrick.”

“Reid, go with Dr. Kimura to the hospital. Interview the victims. Bishop’s been there for about half an hour so you should be halfway done. Morgan and Prentiss, there's a hazmat team that will accompany you to the crime scene. Dave and I will keep working on the profile from here. There's Cipro. Everybody needs to take it before we go.”

“We don't know if it's effective against this strain, but it's something,” the doctor provided. Spencer popped his in and downed it with a glass of water before leaving with Dr Kimura.

Piper sat with the next patient. This was the fifth one she’d talked to in the last 20 minutes. They all seemed so normal. One was a mother with a 6-year-old son, the first she watched die while gripping her hand. Her eyes were drained of all life as she kept comforting young men, women and children. The young woman in front of her was beautiful, but drained. Her lips were slowly paling, and her eyes became sunken. Piper rubbed the young woman’s hand as she attempted to recall things until the aphasia set in. That was the worst part. Seeing a beautiful life with so much potential reduced to a babbling mess. Piper had tapped out of resolve. But she had one more patient left to talk to. She clapped a doctor on the shoulder, thanking her for her work before trudging over to the next room. As she walked in, she found Spencer gently talking to Abby. Piper silently entered, shaking hands with Dr Kimura again. “Yesterday afternoon, you rode your bicycle to the park,” Spencer spoke softly. “How did the sun feel on your skin, the breeze through your hair? Can you describe for me what you heard and the people that you saw?”

“It was warm, windy. There were guys...football. Kids... I see free... Me seen fee me.” Abby opened her eyes wide with panic. “Free knee.” Piper’s heart broke and she stepped forward.

“Hey, Abby. I need you to rest okay. We’re gonna take care of you.” She saw a tear roll of Abby’s cheek and Piper released her. The three doctors stepped outside and Piper sniffled.

“What's causing her aphasia?” Spencer asked the doctor.

“The poison is infecting the parietal lobe, impairing her speech. Some of the other patients displayed the same symptoms shortly before they died.”  Piper swallowed the lump in her throat.

“None of the drug combinations are working?”

“The only thing that's helping them right now is the morphine.” Piper ran a hand through her hair.

“All of them are absolutely normal.” Piper’s voice wavered. “Um… there was a mother who spent the day with her… um… her son and a few kids playing football. Abby was uh… cycling with a friend.” Piper took in a deep breath and Spencer excused them for a minute.

“Hey, are you okay?” His golden eyes searched for her watery ones, wishing he could wipe them away.

“Sorry, I uh… I can do this.”

“Pipes, how many?”

“Abby was gonna be my sixth. The uh… the mother died in…” Piper’s voice cracked, and Spencer desperately wanted to wrap her in his arms and tell her everything would be okay. “Don’t worry about me. Do your science-y thing. I’m useless at that anyway,” she scoffed and walked away over to Kimura who just walked out of another ward.

“38-year-old history teacher. Leaves behind two kids.”

“That’s 17 out of 25,” Spencer noted.

“This strain is duplicating every 30 to 45 minutes. It's poisoning the lungs, causing massive haemorrhaging and organ failure.”

“Extreme bacterial amplification,” Spencer thought aloud. “Whoever created this had to at some point go to the trouble of testing it.”

“You’re right.” Piper nodded. “Scientists always start out with small trial runs. I knew a guy; he was experimenting with olfactory nerves and behaviour. Started with rodents, then advanced to larger mammals like monkeys, and then at some point, they do a very small trial run with people, two maybe three people at most.”

“Exactly. There's no way this was his first human test run,” Spencer continued but Dr Kimura shook her head.

“We would have heard about a previous anthrax attack.”

“Not if it presented itself as something else,” Piper noted, a little life entering her eyes as the doctor nodded and left. Once she left, Piper grabbed the history teacher’s medical chart before calling Garcia to put his name aside for her, as well as his family.

“Pipes, there’s a media blackout.”

“So, I’ll talk to them when the case is over. But they deserve to know.” Spencer noticed the subtle confidence in Piper. When the case is over. Not if. When. A few minutes passed and Dr Kimura came back.

“2 days ago, 2 people in 2 separate Baltimore ERs and one person in a Philadelphia ER slipped into comas and died suddenly. Doctors didn't test for anthrax because the illnesses presented themselves as meningitis, but I think it can be caused by anthrax.”

“Did they show symptoms that we're seeing now— the lesions?” Piper asked her.

“They wouldn't have if the bodily functions expired as quickly as they did.”

“How quickly?”

“All dead within 3 hours of being admitted.” Her heart went still.

“But the first patient died yesterday at 10 hours.”

“Here's the thing—” Spencer explained to Piper. “If they inhaled a higher concentration of the strain, it would cause a quicker death. Organ failure without exterior physical symptoms.”

“What are their names?”

“Gale Mercer, 31, Martha Finestein, 48, Albert Franks, 52.” The doctor’s tone was quiet but clear as Piper dialled Penelope.

“So, what next?” Spencer looked to Piper.

“We should see if they visited the same place on May 8th. Garcia’ll know what to do.” She relayed the names to Garcia, slightly strengthened by having something to do.

“Gale Mercer made a credit card purchase at the Book Front, owned by Albert Franks.” Piper attempted to breathe evenly as her thought spiralled, overwhelming her with a mixture of moral obligation and guilt. Her nerves wouldn’t settle until Spencer brushed against her.

“Hotch is sending General Whitworth to secure the store. Morgan and Prentiss are going to check it out.” She managed to nod. “He wants us back at the base.” Piper’s eyes widened, obstinacy seeping into her voice.

“I’m not leaving.”

“Pipes—" She closed her eyes, breathing in deeply before continuing.

“I can’t sit at base and do nothing. You can go back, but I am staying here even if all I can do is provide moral support for them. I have to make sure they’re going to be okay.” He watched her collect herself before charging towards the next ward. Spencer exhaled as he dialled Hotch. About a half hour later, Piper plopped down next to Spencer in the waiting room.

“It feels like the plagues of Egypt,” she sighed. “10 scourges created by god.”

“Plague 6 was unhealable boils believed by biblical scholars to be caused by anthrax.” She scoffed.

“Never missed Sunday school, did you?”

“Actually, never been before. How is she doing?”

“She's a fighter. Young, strong. Brave too. But she's started to bleed into her lungs. One of 4 left.”

“We're running into another problem. When the next of kin have questions, what do we tell them about cause of death?” Piper’s mouth drew into a line.

“That’s a moral equation I do not want to solve. Did you call Hotch?”

“Yeah. He’s calling his superiors.” Piper closed her eyes, her head leaned on the armchair. “What did you hear from the bookstore?”

“They ran names of former employees, customers with grievances. No one with the science background we're looking for. Garcia's still digging.” Piper nodded; her eyes still closed. “They’re about to deliver the profile. We need to go.” Breathing in deeply, she pushed herself off the armchair, rubbing her bike keys therapeutically.

At the base, she barely listened to the profile. “Because the locations hit are not symbolically significant, we believe that these attacks are personal. Understanding the significance of these locations will be the key to identifying him.”

“This personal element strongly indicates a home-grown terrorist,” Emily noted, easily settling into her speciality in terrorism. “Like the Amerithrax case, we believe this is someone from the science or defence community.”

“That's why you're here. We think you may know him,” Hotch said. “He may be one of us.”

“These home-grown terrorists are myopic zealots,” Piper spat out. “Ideologues that believe that their work is of the greatest importance.”

“He may have preached about the threat of an attack on America,” Spencer continued. “His co-workers would describe him as histrionic, paranoid, secretive.”

“With all due respect,” a man in an army uniform said, raising his hand. “That's a little vague. What are we supposed to do with something that generic?”

“Sir, we're not finished yet,” Derek explained. “He may have logged excess hours at work in the past weeks preparing for the attack. We believe he's taken the full dosage of anthrax vaccines over the recommended 18-month schedule and had yearly boosters.” Derek glanced at Rossi next to him.

“He's written about the threats of anthrax attacks, published papers. Yet he feels no one is listening. And that angers him.”

“Now, he may have recently experienced some sort of professional humiliation,” Derek continued. “Like be demoted or fired. Now, that would have been his trigger, the moment he decided to go rogue. And he may have betrayed his loved ones to his cause.”

“He may be recently separated or divorced,” Hotch added. “This is somebody who knows every detail of the 2001 anthrax attack and has talked about what that suspect did right or wrong. He's watching the news very closely to see how the country reacts. Please share this with your departments. Thank you.” Piper remained at her desk, staring at nothing while the rest of the team followed JJ into a conference room. She moved into her seat, starting to look up the victims.

Abby Hudson, 17, sophomore at Kellyville High School, AP Calculus. Eleanor Martinez, 34, married to Hector Martinez, building inspector, 6-year-old son. Daniel Moore, 38, history teacher, de facto relationship with Nathan Adams. Piper choked back a sob, blinking back tears as she stared at the ceiling until she felt a hand on her shoulder. “Pipes, is everything—” The dam broke before Emily could finish the question. “Hey, it’s okay.” Soothingly, Emily stroked her hair as Piper cried into her shoulder. They caught more than a few glanced. “What are you looking at? Get back to work before I chuck a shoe at you.” Emily scoffed before pulling Piper out of her seat and moving her into Garcia’s lair. She cursed as her cell buzzed. “Hey, Pen, handle her for a sec. I’ll cover for her with Hotch.” Garcia nodded and pulled a sniffling Piper into her comfiest chair.

Her voice was hollow as she spoke. “I promised them…”

“What, hon?”

“That they’d be okay.” Tears flowed freely down her cheek. “I promised I’d take care of them and they’re… they’re gone.” Piper’s eyes were bloodshot. “How do I do this?’ Penelope rubbed her hand.

“You keep moving. You work your smart butt off and once this case is done…” Piper swallowed uneasily and got up a little shakily. “Hey, not yet. Right now, you’re going to finish a cup of tea and then get to work.” Penelope watched her shoot a trembling smile and went to the office kitchen. She swirled a teaspoon through the caramel liquid when Reid popped up beside her.

“We have a possible suspect. You in?” Piper twisted her mouth at her cup of tea before pouring it into a takeaway cup.

“Let’s go.” Spencer filled her in on the ride. The suspect was Dr Lawrence Nichols who had attended a classified hearing with the Subcommittee on Defence and Homeland Security in January ’02. He used to work at the institute but was forced out that same year.

“Committee said he was becoming unstable, fanatical which was why they removed him from Fort Detrick and railroaded from other prominent positions.”

“He fits the profile. Felt like people weren't listening, had access to the spores, lost a prominent job, got divorced.”

“Morgan and Prentiss are hitting the hospital.”

“You didn’t go?”

“Figured he might have kept case files at home for safekeeping.”

“Smart,” Piper muttered. Spencer couldn’t tell if she was talking about him or Nichols, but his chest still swelled. As they pulled up to the house, Piper answered her cell. “All right, thanks Derek. I’m not your—” The line cut off. “Angel,” she finished irritably.

“Still using the nickname?”

“Yeah. Maybe I should give him a really irritating one.” Piper smiled softly. “So, the guy just had people over for a charity event last month.”

“We should look around anyway.” Piper nodded, making to follow when her cell buzzed again.

“What’s up Em? You’re sure it’s clean? ‘Kay, I’ll tell Reid. Be safe.” Piper hung up the cell, turning to Reid, but he’d already left. “Spence!” She walked past the rose bushes to look for him. How hard could it be to find a 6-foot-tall doctor? She turned the corner, her eye catching the door, about to enter when Spencer slammed the glass door shut, latching the door shut. “Spence, wha— what are you doing?”

“Piper get back. Get out of here, now.”

“What are you talking—” Piper trailed off as her eyes fell on the broken vial on the floor. “Is that…” She didn’t want to say it. “No…” A pit had formed in the bottom of her stomach. She wanted to curl up into a ball and pretend none of this was happening. She wanted to scream and rip her hair out and cry all at the same time but instead she stood there, frozen, watching the most precious person to her behind a glass door with a killer disease. Gingerly, she flipped her cell open, telling Hotch everything. Within minutes, Hotch arrived with Dr Kimura and a hazmat team in tow and Piper tore herself away from Spencer to meet him.

“Any update?”

“There's white powder in the room and the air was blasting.” Piper’s voice was hollow. “Nichols is dead. Blunt force trauma to his head. Reid thinks he's been dead 2 or 3 days.”

“Clean him up and get him in the ambulance fast,” Hotch ordered.

“Sir, wait. Reid has to stay inside.”

“Piper, what are you—”

“I know. I want him out of there too but… he’s our best chance at finding the cure. He's already infected and I think he has a better chance of survival if he stays inside.”

“But Pi—”

“Look, it’s not going to do anyone any good to take him to a hospital.” Piper’s tone reached a higher octave. “I won’t let Spencer become another…” Piper stopped, taking a deep breath. “His best chance is inside.” Grudgingly, he nodded, and Piper trudged back to the door, watching a Decon team enter the house to secure the area. Piper pulled out her cell, dialling his number by memory. “Hey, Spence.”

Spencer heard her voice betray her pretence of confidence. “So, I…uh…managed to convince Hotch. Dr Kimura’s coming in to help you out. And uh… you’re gonna be fine.” She scuffled the grass under her foot as she spoke. “You’re gonna be okay.”

“Of course. I’ve got you.”

“I’m not gonna be much help, Spence. I’m out here, remember?”

“Physically, yes. Emotionally and more importantly mentally, you’re right beside me.” He heard her take a deep breath.

“Okay, walk through the scene. Tell me what you see.”

“I see cages filled with dead animals. I see signs of a struggle, probably before Dr. Nichols was murdered. Equipment's missing. There's a large desk. Clutter all over the surface. But in the corner, There's a smaller desk. It's organized, functional.”

“So, two different workspaces. Maybe he had someone working with him?”

“Maybe. Two sets of handwriting. I'm looking at instructions on how to boil lab-grade broth, sterilize lab equipment, and transfer spores.”

“Nichols would know all that.”

“He has a partner, maybe even a protege.”

“You read his file. You know anyone special?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“That’s okay. I’ll call Hotch. Be…” He heard Piper trail. “Hang in there.” The line cut and Spencer was too smart to not understand that he could die today. Piper was right outside, he could call her but his mom, she was alone in Las Vegas. He rapidly dialled Penelope’s direct line.

“Hey, Reid.”

“Gee, wow, no, uh... No witty Garcia greeting for me?” He heard her sigh on the other end.

“I can't be my sparkly self when you are where you are.”

“Garcia, do you think you can do something for me?”

“Anything.”

“I, uh... I know i can't call my mom without, uh—” He cleared his throat. “Without alerting everyone at her hospital.”

“What do you need?”

“I, uh... I need you to record a message for her in case anything happens to me.”

“Oh, nothing's going to happen to you. You're gonna...brilliantly find out who did this and we're gonna treat this strain.” Spencer laughed, a little too bitterly for his taste.

“I hope you're right, but if you're not, I just— I really want to make sure that she hears my voice.”

“Ok. Just, uh, give me a second. Are you ready?”

“Ready. Hi, Mom. This is Spencer. I just, um...” He sighed, a little aware of Dr Kimura entering the house. “I just...really want you to know that I love you and—” His voice hitched, and he cleared his throat. “I need you to know that I spend every day of my life proud to be your son.” On the other side, Penelope’s heart broke at her best friend’s demise. But before she could comfort him, the line went dead.

“Doctor. How are--how are the patients doing?”

“Let's worry about you.”

“I actually— I feel fine.”

“Ok, if you feel any pain, I could give you something.”

“No, I— I’d rather not take any pain medication.” Spencer fidgeted with his fingers, desperate to get back to work.

“We can at least make you feel more comfortable.”

“I am comfortable, and I don't want to take any narcotics.”

“Okay. Tell me how I can help.”

“I think the cure for this strain is in here somewhere. Dr. Nichols is a former military scientist, which means he's most likely secretive and most likely a little paranoid. He would have protected the cure and probably would have hidden it from his partners. So, look for something innocuous, something you would not suspect.”

“All right.” His cell buzzed again, a small smile gracing his face. Piper Bishop. “Hey.”

“Hey Doc. How are you feeling?” Piper tried her best to inject cheer in her voice.

“Fine. Actually, I feel fine.” He coughed, harder than intended and Piper heard.

“Spence?”

“Yeah, I’m here. Just a little—”

“Don’t you dare lie to me Dr Spencer Walter Reid! I am not in the mood.”

“I've seen better days.” He was met with silence weighing.

“Emily called me. They don't think the partner was a co-worker. Can you tell us anything else about him?”

“I— I don’t know.”

“Listen to me, Spence. How long have I known you?”

“3 years.”

“In those 3 years, I have never seen you question yourself. Spencer, you are the most brilliant, compassionate and perceptive person I have ever met. Don’t start questioning yourself now.”

“Pipes—”

“Don’t Pipes me. Listen. You told me there were two different workspaces, two sets of handwriting. Sets of instructions on how to boil lab-grade broth, sterilize lab equipment, and transfer spores. Why would he write that stuff down?”

“Because he wrote it for someone else. Okay, I see a framed photograph of Dr. Nichols teaching. I see a... I see a binder with syllabi. Course assignments going all the way back to the ‘70s.”

“Good. What else?”

“I saw something earlier. I didn't— I didn't make a connection to it or to the partner, but he has a study on anthrax. He has an annotated bibliography, table of contents. It's formatted like a thesis and has writing in the margins in red ink, like the way a teacher grades a paper. Now, Nichols wouldn't have let just anyone in here, but he may have opened his lab for educational purposes, as a teacher.”

“That’s my genius. I’ll get Garcia on the line. We’re gonna get you out of there.” As Piper switched to Garcia, Reid kept coughing while he read through the paper. “Hey, Spence. Garcia didn’t get anything.”

“Pipes listen to this. ‘This country is woefully unprepared. Every household should have a 2-month supply of Cipro. Hospitals are in need of bio-safety level 4 Decon wings.’ Verbatim to what we heard from Nichols.”

“So, the partner's adopted Nichols' views as his own.”

“There’s more. The chapters are on setting up triage and mobile emergency rooms. I don't think this paper was written by a science student. It's about city preparedness and response.”

“Gimme a sec.” She told Garcia to change the parameters to social studies students— specifically those in public policy and urban planning. “Spence, you did it.” He heard relief flood into her voice. “Penelope got a name. Now get the hell out of there.”

Spencer flipped his cell shut and slipped it in his pocket as Dr Kimura approached. “Dr. Reid. You said the cure would be hidden somewhere we wouldn't suspect. What about Nichols' inhaler?” Spencer nodded; a weight lifted from his shoulders. He was herded away to be hosed down and Piper updated him face to face.

“Go help Hotch.”

“Hotch has plenty of people helping him.”

“He needs you more than I do.”

“Spence, I'm gonna see you off to the hospital.”

“I'm about to get naked so they can scrub me down. Is that something you really want to see?” Red seeped into Piper’s face as she stammered.

“I’ll, uh… I think I’ll wait outside.” She shot him a thumbs up awkwardly and left the tent. Spencer almost laughed except Kimura held up his arm. Any remaining good spirit drained from his face as he glanced at the cut on his wrist.

“The rose bush,” he realised.

^-^

“How are you feeling, Dr. Reid?” Dr Kimura kept an eye on his vitals on the screen. Spencer’s shirt was unbuttoned, and he had tubes running from his nose while Piper gripped his hand, battling the onslaught of tears.

“My throat's a little dry. But other than that, I feel... Flee... Feel fin. I feel--i fleel fin. i—”

“Relax, Spencer,” Piper interjected, terrified as her voice quivered. “Just focus on me, okay.” She wanted to sob at the sight of him so pale. It was her worst nightmare, ten times worse. This wasn’t a bullet or a stab wound. This was a disease. They’d taken a gamble with the inhaler and at this moment, she didn’t care about the unsub, about the potential deaths, just the man lying on a stretcher in front of her. The only thing keeping her together was being strong for him, but even that failed as his amber eyes flickered closed and her browns flooded with tears. “Faster,” she screamed at the driver and kept rubbing his hand. She held his hand all the way to the ER room, letting him leave as she watched him disappear behind the double doors. She collapsed onto the wall next to her, sliding down as she sobbed right there, apathetic to the staring staff. Eventually her tears dried up and she paced in the waiting room, not giving a damn about how she looked. Finally, Dr Kimura came out, pulling off her surgical gloves, giving her good news and a room number. She thanked her profusely before sprinting to waiting room 2110, halting at Spencer in a white bedsheet, eye still closed. Silently, she padded to the armchair, tucking her legs inside and watching over him until she fell asleep. Spencer’s eyes fluttered awake and he watched Piper snoring gently, her wrist twisted uncomfortably.

“Careful, your wrist isn’t gonna like that.” Piper’s head slipped off and she blinked sleepily at Spencer.

“You’re awake.” Spencer tried to nod but it hurt him to move. “Careful.”

“And there’s jello. Must be my lucky day.” Piper rubbed her face.

“Yeah.” Piper scoffed at the idea of him being lucky. “Kimura brought it in. Figured this day couldn’t get worse I guess.”

“Did they find him?” Piper hummed, unravelling her legs and stretching them out. Like a cat, he noted.

“Picked the park because he was rejected by a girl. Picked the bookstore because that’s where he used to work in college. They caught him at the train lines. Or so I heard.” Piper smiled softly at him. “I’m glad you’re okay.” She sat, watching him devour the jello. Like a kid on his birthday, she noted, smilingly.

“That’s the first real smile I’ve seen all day,” he voiced. Piper reddened slightly as she got up.

“You want some coffee. I want to stretch my legs anyway.”

“Piper wait…” Spencer straightened up. “I need… I need to tell you something.” Piper furrowed her brows, but she pulled her chair closer to Spencer.

“What’s up?”

“When I was in there… I realised something.” He licked his lips. “That if I died today, I’d miss everything.” Piper smiled. “Not the cases. I’d miss you. Your birthdays, your smiles, your bets and your squabbles with Derek.” He watched the smile fade and felt his grow. Piper’s stomach dropped. No, he wasn’t… “I’m not afraid of death, never have been.”

“You’re scared of the dark,” she murmured, remembering an old conversation with Derek and Spencer. He snorted gently.

“I’m scared of the dark, Piper, but I’m terrified of losing you.” Piper’s eyes grew weary.

“Spence, please—”

“I’m tired of hiding it. Dr Piper Aubrey Bishop, I’m in love with you.” Her shoulders sagged and before she could reply, Derek and Dr Kimura walked in.

“You’re real lucky kid. Piper must be some kind of good luck charm.” As though Piper wasn’t uncomfortable already, she fidgeted in her seat while Spencer chuckled.

“Yeah, guess she is.”

“Coffee?” she asked abruptly, not waiting for a response. She practically ran out and Spencer felt shattered.

While Derek helped Spencer to his apartment, he noted that Piper never did come back with the coffee. Derek noticed Spencer’s withdrawn attitude, the lack of cheer on his face, but filed it away as fatigue. Spencer waved Derek goodbye, the latter promising to check up on him later. He sunk into his couch, pulling out his cell as he contemplated dialling her. He re-read her name over and over, as though he needed to memorise it. But he didn’t have to. Her name was etched into his skull, unable to forget it if he tried to. Nor the smell of her hair every Monday morning nor the smile she gave him when he brought her tea nor her laugh at his jokes, even the unfunny ones. He’d never felt as alone as he did now. He felt loneliness in his blood, scratched along his bones repeatedly. He sunk further with every memory that flashed in his head, both good and bad. He remembered how sunken she’d looked after her gunshot wound, how angry she’d been with the sham psychologists, how giddy she’d acted on her birthday, how bloodshot her eyes were after her breakup with Drew, how happy she’d been to be back…home. He’d never stop loving her, he realised as he remembered an old conversation during a group lunch while it started raining heavily outside. Between mouthfuls of stir fry chicken, she’d told him how you never really stop loving someone, you just start loving someone else more. But he couldn’t imagine doing that. Not to her. But as though a pebble had been thrown through the perfectly distilled reflection, the doorbell rang, and the memory faded. Spencer stumbled over to the door, still weak from the disease. He opened the door to see Piper dripping onto the carpet outside his apartment. Her hair was soaked, clung to her face like she clung to her motorcycle helmet. She was breathing hard as though she’d run up the flights of stairs. “The elevator works.”

“It was too slow,” she rasped. Spencer motioned for her to come in, smiling softly at how she left her boots outside, neatly next to the door.

“You know, I think Ms Cumberland down the hall is a kleptomaniac. She might steal those.” Piper chuckled as she settled her helmet and a paper package on the kitchen. “Let me grab you a towel.”

“No, Sp— Reid.” She corrected herself, the transition evident of the giant wall she’d constructed in little under an hour. “You should rest, I know where it is.” She slipped into the bathroom and came back out, done rubbing the water out of her hair. “I uh… I won’t stay long. Um… I didn’t like how we left things. How I left things.” Piper sniffled. She’d been crying, Spencer noticed. Her puffy eyes, the red tinge on her nose.

“Don’t be. Consider it a moment of weakness. So, what can I do for you Bishop?” He saw the words sting her, but the emotion was only a brief flash.

“Well, I never gave you my diagnosis,” she said humourlessly. “Ask me.”

“What’s my diagnosis, Doc?” He spat the question out bitterly.

“You’ve got a few uncurable diseases. They’ve never even heard of one person having all of them. The first,” she stepped a few paces closer, “is called I-can’t-wait-long-enough-for-my-partner-to-get-off-the-phone-before-I-enter-an-unsub’s-house-itis. The second is I-just-have-to-wait-until-I’m-on-my-deathbed-to-confess-my-love-itis.”

“Is there a third one?”

“Yeah. But the last one’s a self-diagnosis. I’ve got a case of holding-in-my-feelings-for-a-co-worker-so-long-that-i-get-terrified-when-he-finally-confesses-itis. Spencer,” she whispered, less than a few paces away now. “I was terrified. So, I did what I do best. I froze you out and I drove. You remember that case in Texas? That kid who was bullied and killed his girlfriend’s dad, the abuser?” He nodded thickly, unsure of where she was going. “That was the first time I drove you somewhere on a bike.”

“I was about to analyze your vehicular choices— but you stopped me.”

“That’s why. Because something happens and it terrifies me, so I drive, and I don’t look back. Ever. And I did it today.” Piper was two steps away. “You, in that house, with that disease, I could’ve run. But I didn’t. And for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why I stayed.”

“Because you’re kind—”

“No, don’t give me that. I’m not kind,” she spat. “I’m selfish. I pretend that helping others gives me joy but in reality, I run from anything that could ever give me any kind of real happiness. Except,” Piper was a step away. “in this situation, it’s a case of anyone. I ran because I couldn’t handle my feelings for you, Spence.” Her voice was just a whisper. “I ran because I’m terrified of us hurting each other. But I can’t. Not because the situation itself becomes a paradox. Because you’re worth more than any kind of pain. So, Dr Spencer Walter Reid, I’m in love with you too. That’s my diagnosis.” She was only inches away and Spencer could smell the earthy scent of her hair as he grasped the side of head and met her lips. His hands tangled in her soft dark hair as her lips moved against his. She deepened the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck as she reached on her tiptoes. The two doctors broke the kiss, breathless as their foreheads touched, her eyes fluttering open and gazing softly into his dark brown eyes. She couldn’t help beaming before she kissed him swiftly on the nose and walking over to the kitchen. “Also, Penelope said you like chicken noodle soup?”

“Yeah, why?” Spencer knew he was grinning like an idiot. But he didn’t care. The microwave beeped and the rich scent of chicken and broth seeped through the small apartment and he grinned at Piper who was still smiling as she handed him a bowl.

“Also, your uh…Mrs Cumberland won’t steal my boots.” Piper tucked her feet into the couch next to Spencer. “Not when you gifted her those flowers so lovingly.”

“You got me flowers?” Piper laughed at Spencer’s confuddled smile and she wiped away a small trace of soup with a thumb.

“Technically, you got her flowers which is deeply concerning considering you confessed your love to me less than 4 hours ago.” Spencer gave her a deep chuckle and she lay her head in the crook of his shoulder as she switched the tv onto reruns of Doctor Who while the rain pounded outside.

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

A Story You Won’t Believe (Geralt x fem!witcher, Part 5.)

Series description: The Butcher of Blaviken has a long and famous past, thanks to his friend Jaskier. Yet, neither of those dies easily and it still lurks behind Geralt like a shadow after all those years. History, neither unfriendly relationships, doesn't die easily.

Part Summary: Your arrival to villages of Borin and Corin were more or less accepted by the folk living there. Yet with uncovering the mystery risen up around Mahakam mountains, there were more questions than aswer.

A/N: Why did I fell so hard so the Witcher politics? It was almost not mentioned in the series at all, but I am all about Temeria this and Redania that.

Tagging:  @osgon-azure​ @davnwillcome @missdictatorme​ @nemodoren​

Word count: 1.9K

Master list: H E R E

Talking with the survivors was the worst part of your journey, you would most likely say. You had to wake up the pain inside these people, which wasn’t making you happy at all. You had to keep the whole emotionless mascarade on your face while they were crying their eyes out. All the things they told you and Geralt over the next three days were practically identical - something about the size of a sty was crossing the villages, rampaging them with footsteps shaking the land, each of them being as loud as a thunder.

No wonder why you wanted to drink your ass off that night. Soon, you were supposed to leave for Corin to ask the refugees there, but you just felt as your heart sunk deeper and deeper. Mostly, when the contractors wanted you to slay some nekkers, foglets, or vampires, it was okay - but this was a giant. And not just one giant. There were more of them.

How in the world were you supposed to slay these fuckers? Two witchers against a whole tribe? You didn't stand a chance. At least you hoped that Jaskier will escape and that he'll make your funeral nice. Whoever said that witchers and witchresses can’t feel emotions was wrong. You were scared to death and that was why you were drinking a fourth ale.

“Is there someone who can play Gwent? Huh?” - You yelled on the whole inn, raising your deck in the air. - “I’m one of the last witchresses of the Kaer Morhen and whoever will pay my next drink will get to listen to my stories all fucking night long.” - Then you dragged Jaskier by his jacket so he was standing next to you. - “And I have this jester with me who is known as the bard Jaskier. He can play you some royal banger if you wish him to.”

To Geralt’s surprise, few men got up and brought you beer and ale. They were taking turns in playing Gwent with you while you told them the craziest stories you had. There was the Nightmare of the Mire West, Golden mist on the coast of Temeria, the Fake Witcher of Lyria... You had a lot of stories. The drunker you got, the more fun you were telling them with a burst of man-like laughter, having some wrinkles on your forehead. Curse words were falling out of your lips. It was rare to see someone like you behave so... Human.

No matter which story you were telling, you were still concentrated on playing Gwent, knowing what your opponents are about to do. You couldn’t understand a shit the dwarves and gnomes were telling you, yet you laughed like crazy at their words which certainly made them contained.

“Oy, really, ’ere, not too far is a camp of some Temerians.” - One of the human men told you, which made you giggle again. As you drank more and more, it was hard to exactly tell which one of the three men was speaking to you. Understanding the language was a completely next level shit for at that moment. You were just glad that you had enough food, alcohol, and someone to play cards with.

“Not too strange when we are in Temeria, good lord. And to your information, I won the round, didn't eye?” - You rose your eyebrows and put another card on the table, looking at the sober gnome who was counting the points. He nodded back at you so you knew that you're still winning. His small hands prepared the table for another round while other gnome started to mix the cards. Both of them made sure you or the man sitting in front of you weren't cheating.

“No, lady, these Temerians are the ones who ran away from the castle. Or that’s what I’ve heard. Sometimes we see ’em sneaking up in the woods, sometimes ya can hear a horse driving by at night.” - The man told you again and you took a frustrated breath when the dwarf put the nekker card on the table, putting another three of them on the table since this was the skill the card had. You hand banged the table, making the pints on it shake.

Geralt watched you turn the match around, still thinking about the Temerians. He heard that some of them had run away - but not because they wanted to betray King Foltest. They were sent to spy on the Mahakam to inspect the situation and to try to put an end to all of the horrors. Could his old friend, Vernon Roche, be there, probably leading the spy group?

“Another row for everyone, good man!” - You yelled at the innkeeper, punching Jaskier’s shoulder to make him play the lute. Normally, you had better manners than Geralt - but when you got drunk, you were worse than a sailor, punching around you, cursing, being overall pain in the ass. Jaskier didn't say a word, his palm just gently massaged his shoulder before he played the first chords.

“And now, I will tell you the story of how my friend Geralt visited the great Cintral ball.” - You yelled with your hands above your head, smiling. Everyone cheered and so you started telling the story.

It was a while after midnight when the fight came around. The fights weren't the aggressive, provoked ones - the inns had usually a tournament and a list of fighters that usually came there to fight. The best one usually won the prize.

"Oy! I want to fight too!" - You cried, standing up with supporting your weight by Geralt's shoulder. The white-haired man rose the pint, grinning into its bottom as he watched walking you to the corner.

"Ye a woman, and I ain't about to hurt you. Ye shall go continue drinking for now." - A dwarf answered you and you shifted your weight as you tried not to spin around. You leaned one of your palms into the wall, supporting yourself as you watched the men around you.

"Geralt tell 'em that I can't fight!" - You yelled through the whole inn, making everyone turn at the white-haired witcher. Jaskier also concentrated on the dialogue there since the comment itself was highly captivating.

"I saw her cutting a head off of a werewolf which she killed just minutes prior. No offense gentlemen, you'd shit yourself and ran as soon as you'd hear it." - Geralt praised you without a single problem, making a toast to you. Your finger pointed at him as you nodded.

"See? Now stop fucking with me and let me fight." - A drunk exhale came out of you again when you put your hair off your face, yet the men laughed again. They pointed at your clothes and so you did just what they wanted you to do. With two quick moves, the chest piece fell on the ground, followed by your gloves and shirt. After taking off all the clothes you weren't supposed to have on you, you kicked in the direction of Geralt's table. Only bandages were now covering your chest as you stood in front of the huge and tall fisherman.

Geralt nor Jaskier hadn't seen what was hiding underneath the chest piece - long, deep scars, bruises, and cuts; which were way worse than Geralt ever had. Some of the wounds weren't even properly healed until this very day. No matter if you'd be speaking of the old ones or new ones, some of them still appeared to be open, or at least fragile. You still had the wound from the Nightmare of the Mire West next to your stomach. It was badly sewed and the scar was puffy and completely reddened around. It was a miracle that you hadn't got an infection. Your face was perfect, your arms were also without a scar... But your torso... That sight was horrendous, making most of the men shut up and watch you.

You started the fight without anyone excepting you to. Your fist was blatantly thrown into the tall man's face, making him step away. You didn't exactly hit the bull's eye, but you didn't miss either. In that courageous drunkard state, you hadn't even the need to cover your face, you just stood there and grinned at the punched man. It could be seen that you're drunk as fuck, but you still moved out of the way elegantly when the man wanted to punch you back.

At that moment, you kicked his stomach with your knee, catching his forearm before he could hit you, still keeping him bowed. It would be easy to just luxate his shoulder completely. You felt the gristles and bones play under your touch, tensing and relaxing with the muscles. Numbly, you could hear the beat of his heart and his breathing. He wasnt screaming, no, but this particular position was hurting him. You got to know that since the pulse inside his veins was off the charts.

After realizing that it's not fair to win with such an advantage, you let go to let him take a breath in, pushing him away like a little girl. Without you expecting the fisherman to, he punched your face.

Your nose cracked directly on to the top, making blood drip on your upper lip and your teeth. The men never saw anything as scary as that - a witchress with blood dripping from her nose, with white hair; bruised, scarred body and glowing golden eyes.

"That's all you can do?" - You asked before punching him into the stomach and giving him an elbow into his spine. After that, he fell flat on his back, coughing blood as well. He didn't lose his consciousness, but it was obvious that you won this round.

Everyone watched you standing above that man before you looked at the innkeeper. - "Well, you have a list here, don't you? Who's next?" - You looked around clapping your hands while the other two men helped the fisherman away.

You beat six various men until they couldn't pick themselves off the ground, still having only your nose cracked. To put it nicely, you were a monster when you got drunk - suddenly, the hidden aggression and rage needed to leave your body at once. It didn't matter how many men you had to fight, you wouldn't stop until you'd win the prize, which happened.

To end it quickly, you had ended up around two in the morning when you fell asleep on the table, having the Gwent cards waved into your hair and blood all over your face. Your armor was somehow put on your body, your swords were put next to you on the bench along with your pouch.

When it has woken you up, you first thought that you’re dreaming. The pints on the table were shaking and loud sounds were coming from behind the walls. Your head hurt like living fuck, you wanted to curse, you barely stood up on your own feet. You understood that you’re not dreaming when you heard screaming and smelled fire.

[thej13579]

A Cure Blossoms from Hope: DR/HPC TG/TF

As Shuichi and his friends were about to end Danganronpa, a fairy shows up with a surprise that Shuichi never expected.

--------DISCLAIMER!!--------

This story contains MASSIVE spoilers for Danganronpa V3: Killing Harmony. Please be advised before reading it, as if you haven't played the game yet you will be spoiled on the entire plot about it just from this story!

... or if you don’t want to play the game, you can just watch it on Youtube. Can’t really stop you.

If you don’t care about spoilers or you already played the game to the end, carry on.

“Together, we’re gonna end Danganronpa!"

Shuichi glared at Tsumugi with a level of confidence that he never expected himself to have. He may not be the Ultimate Detective. Maybe this whole facade was a facade itself. But there is one thing that Shuichi and his friends knew for sure. Danganronpa has to end.

“You can’t do this!” Tsumugi yelled. “Danganronpa brings joy to so many people around the world, to men, women, children! It can't just end right now!"

His eyes turned towards his friends: Maki, Himiko and Keebo. Together, nothing can stop them from ending this demented series of killing games. Even if Keebo has been taken over by the audience right now, Shuichi knows that he’ll do whatever it takes to fight alongside them.

“She’s right!” Monokuma defended Tsumugi. “If Danganronpa ends, I’ll be out of a job! Everyone else would be too envious of my cuteness to hire me!”

As Shuichi glared at the two foes with pure determination in his eyes, a voice ringed in his ears.

“Tsubomi! Where are you!”

“Huh,” Shuichi looked around the area. That voice didn’t sound like anyone in the room with him. It was too high and chirpy. “Did anyone hear that?”

“Hear what?” Himiko replied.

“I’m not hearing anything either.”

Shuichi looked towards Tsumugi and Monokuma. Through the look of confusion on their faces, not even they could hear the voice that just echoed through the room.

“Tsubomi!”

The voice echoed again, only this time it was louder and everyone could hear it.

“Who’s Tsubomi?” Maki asked. “Anyone know?”

“I got nothing,” Himiko answered.

“No!”

Shuichi turned to see Tsumugi and he wasn’t expecting him to see her sweat.

“No! No no no no! Not you!”

A bright light appeared in the center of the trial room, briefly blinding everyone in sight. As the light faded, Shuichi saw a creature that he never expected to see in his life.

A white fairy with heart-shaped ears that have a cyan heart marking to match her bangs, tail, and markings on her dark brown eyes. She wears a fuchsia bow with a pink gem star. Her neck has a frilly fuchsia piece held by a silver heart.

“Tsubomi! I’m so glad we finally found you and your friends!” The fairy chirped. “We’ve looked everywhere in the dream world for you!”

As the fairy floated in the room, Shuichi’s friends looked upon the creature. Maki simply stared at the magical being with a look of confusion while Himiko looked at the fairy with awe.

“What the hell am I looking at?” Maki asked.

“It’s a fairy, obviously,” Himiko claimed. “I bet she has a lot of MP in her.”

“Chypre!” Monokuma interjected. “Get out of here! This game was going well without you.”

“Chypre…” 

Shuichi knew that name sounded familiar and the name Tsubomi too. Why it sounded familiar, he had no idea.

It was then an image popped into his head. He can remember three girls, one with navy blue hair, one with short brown hair and the last girl had waist-length dark purple hair. They extended their hands out to him, almost like they were calling to Shuichi himself, like they wanted Shuichi to join them, become one of them.

“Who are they?” Shuichi whispered to himself.

“I doubt that,” Chypre replied to the bear. 

“W-what should we do, Monokuma?” Tsumugi stammered. “She’s going to ruin everything!”

“You stop her, then.”

Before the Ultimate Cosplayer knew it, Monokuma pushed Tsumugi out of her stand and into the middle of the trial room. 

“I-I-I can’t!” Tsumugi stuttered as she stood in place. 

“Here!”

Shuichi suddenly found himself with a pale, elongated spray-like object in his hands. The vines on the side were painted in a pale pink. A thickly ornate gold plate is placed on the middle, lined in a dark pink variant, and has a tiny heart-shaped symbol on it. At the middle is a large hole for something meant to be inserted into. On top is a gold, leafy shape with a small hole on it. A similar hole is also on the white rose bud on top of it. Alongside the object was a small pink gem-like token with a small heart shaped hole inches from the top..

“W-what is this?”

“This is your Heart Perfume,” Chypre answered. “I know this doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to you and I know you look nothing like Tsubomi, Tsubomi, but if you just inserted the Pretty Cure Seed into this, everything will make sense.

As he stared at the Heart Perfume, another image appeared in Shuichi’s mind. There were three girls in flower-themed outfits in that image. One with sky-blue hair, one with bright yellow hair and one with lavender hair. They were holding up their own Heart Perfumes. As their artifacts shined, a phrase echoed in Shuichi’s mind, begging to be said out loud. He knew he had to say it.

“Pretty Cure! Open My Heart!”

Shuichi was quick to insert the Pretty Cure seed into the Heart Perfume. As he sprayed the perfume on himself, his clothes began to change.

Gone was his black uniform and in its place was a short white and fuchsia dress with bell-flower shaped sleeves.. His pants were now a white and pink skirt. His dark blue loafers morphed into light pink and fuchsia boots with flowers embroidered onto each side.

Of course, as the transformation proceeded, Shuichi’s clothes weren’t the only thing that changed. His body began to show cracks, pink lights emitting from each one. Like glass, the body shattered, revealing a young girl no older than fourteen. Her hair grew until it was well past her waist. The color of her hair quickly turned neon pink and it was tied in a high, curly ponytail held by a hot pink bow with a small flower. Her red-violet eyes became bright pink as well.

As the transformation ended and Shuichi floated down to the center of the room, he… no, she finally remembered everything.

She is not Shuichi Saihara. She’s not The Ultimate Detective. She’s not even a boy. That last part was yet another lie in a series full of them. Not particularly surprising at this point.

“The flowers spreading throughout the land, Cure Blossom!”

She is Tsubomi Hanasaki. Cure Blossom. The one who would end Danganronpa and take her friends back to the real world.

“Um…” Maki was at a genuine loss for words. “I really don’t know what’s going on anymore.”

“His MP’s off the charts!” Himiko claimed. “Only magic of the most powerful kind can change someone to that extent!”

Tsubomi can’t say Himiko was wrong. It was something truly powerful that turned her into Shuichi and started this whole killing game in the first place.

Her eyes turned towards the two behind everything. It’s time to end this.

“Monokuma, you have caused harm to my friends and everyone in this demented game! I will never forgive you for exploiting our pain for your own personal gain!” 

“M-Monokuma?” Tsumugi stuttered. “What should we do?”

“Do I really have to do everything myself?” Monokuma yelled. “Fine! If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.”

“Yeah! Stop them Monokuma! Danganronpa shall continue-urk!”

Any boast from Tsumugi was cut short when Monokuma plunged his claw right into her chest. Rather than the pink blood that the other students spewed out upon their deaths, black goo oozed from the Ultimate Cosplayer’s body.

“W-why?”

Tsumugi’s dark essence slowly made its way into Monokuma’s body. Her body was slowly decomposing as the bear grew twice his size, eventually crumbling into dust completely, much to the horror of the Ultimate Mage.

“W-what? Isn’t she your assistant of sorts?”

“Don’t worry too much about it,” Maki said. “I would hardly call her death by Monokum’s hands an unforgivable sin.”

“Upupupupu,” Monokuma giggled. Once he was shorter than the majority of his “students”. Now, he easily towered over his opponent. As far as he knew, he was more than a match for the leader of Heartcatch Precure.

“Now then,” Monokuma turned to face Cure Blossom. “I’ll have you know that I’m an expert in Bear-Fu. I graduated top of my class and I can kill a thousand of you prissy girls with both of my hands tied behind my back.”

Monokuma’s boast was only met with a cold glare from the Cure.

“Besides, you know you can’t fight me,” Monokuma smirked. “You could break a nail or mess up your pretty pink hair. Obviously better fit for a salon or something girly like that.”

Still dead silence.

“Nothing to say about my greatness? Alright then. Die!”

Monokuma quickly ran towards Cure Blossom, claws extended. The cure was equally quick to dodge the first swipe of his claws and gave Monokuma a swift punch to the face, knocking the significantly larger bear back a few feet.

“Ow! That hurt!” Monokuma growled. “Very well. Seems like I need to kick things up a notch. Let’s see how good you are at dodging this!”

Monokuma quickly ran back up to Cure Blossom and began throwing punch after punch at his opponent. He threw them at such speeds that, to the untrained eye, he was throwing ten people-sized punches at once.

“Oraoraoraoraoraoraoraoraoraora!”

But regardless of the size, speed and agility of his attacks, Cure Blossom was able to dodge each and every blow that Monokuma dished out. She patiently waited for an opening, a perfect opportunity for her to strike.

It wasn’t long before Cure Blossom figured out where to strike. In his haste to attack his opponent, the despair-obsessed bear paid no attention to the area below his waist. It was obvious that fighting was never Monokuma’s strong suit, especially when it comes to fighting those he can’t overpower easily. His legs were completely vulnerable.

A simple leg sweep was enough to knock Monokuma off of his feet. The air time he had was short, but long enough to allow Cure Blossom to kick her foe high up into the sky.

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!” Monokuma yelled. “How are you strong enough to kick me up like that? You’re obviously a shrimp in comparison to me!”

He was in the right position. It was time for her to finish this.

Cure Blossom held out her hand and a pink heart emerged onto it. She threw it up into the air and it turned into her Blossom Tact, an artifact capable of purifying Desertrians like the very threat standing before her right now. She spinned the center of the tact, and rainbow lights went into the gemstone tip of the Blossom tact. The tips surge with purity energy, and Cure Blossom spins before declaring the attack name. 

“Pink Forte Wave!”

She then shoots out an energy flower at Monokuma. An implosion occurs, and Cure Blossom’s target is suspended in the air, a cherry blossom having overlapped behind it. 

Monokuma struggled to leap back towards his opponent, but the vines on the cherry blossom restrained him to the flower. The bear could do nothing but cry, yell and beg as Cure Blossom finalized the finishing move.

“Let go of me! You should know that I’m allergic to pollen! I can barely keep myself from sneezing!”

Cure Blossom then claps the center of the Blossom Tact to keep the center spinning. As the Blossom Tact spinned faster and faster, reality itself seemed to be breaking apart at the seam. Cracks appeared all over the academy, emitting pure bright light into the area

“Noooooooooooo!”

It was then everything bursted into a ray of light. Cure Blossom covered her eyes with her arm. Monokuma no longer existed. Everything was falling apart, everything was back to normal. That she knew.

When the light faded, Cure Blossom uncovered her eyes. Everyone was back in the park. Everyone who died in the killing game was resurrected back into their original bodies. Her friends along with the random people that were dragged into Monokuma’s scheme because of their unfortunate luck that day were now saved.

Cure Blossom turned to her friends: Itsuki Myoudouin and Yuri Tsukikage. Once Himiko Yumeno and Maki Harukawa respectively, both girls have returned to their true forms. There would be cause for Tsubomi to celebrate as she turned back to normal. But there was one member missing from their group.

“Where’s Erika?” Itsuki asked.

Tsubomi looked around the area for Erika. She must’ve been Keebo during that demented killing game Monokuma set up.

She turned towards the spot where Keebo was. 

He’s not her. 

Keebo’s true self was just some random guy that got caught up in all of this. Tsubomi felt sorry for him and all of the other people that got dragged into Monokuma’s evil scheme.

Where is Erika? Was she Kirumi? Kaito? Kaede?

“Tsubomi!”

Before she knew it, Tsubomi was pulled into a tight hug by Erika.

“Oh, I’m so glad you saved us! I knew you could do it!”

Tsubomi could feel the memories that Monokuma gave her slowly fading away. Soon the horrific memories and trauma that came from his actions will soon be more than a bad dream. But there was one question that she had to ask.

“Erika? When we were trapped. What was the name Monokuma gave you?”

“What, don’t you remember me, Mister Detective?”

There was only one person who would ever call Shuichi that.

“Kokichi?”

“Yep!”