#Fun fact: I also painted the pears on the left of him as well!

[lesbeid0u]

This is so fucking funny to me

[ynkfva]

im gonna answer this questions as my "dr self"

ib to @55maddox !!

1. In what reality do you live:

Yuri!!! On ice. ive never saw anyone shifting to there and its really amazing

2. What is your name:

Yelena Dmitriyevna Nikiforova. big ass name i know. fun fact: thats where my username came from

3. How other people call you? What are your nicknames, if you have any:

My russian friends and family usually call me Alyona, and my international friends call me Lena. My fans use both, but the media started calling me the "Ace of Skating" 😭🫶

4. How old are you:

Im 15 in that reality. Its SOOOO good being back at 2016. I didnt know i missed those times sm. but i miss tiktok

5. How tall are you:

1,70m or 5'8 (ig not sure tho)

6. What is your skin color:

White

7. Your body type:

Uhhh idk??? pear or hourglass

8. Your sign/birthday:

im a gemini and i was born in may 28th, in both universes

9. How do you describe yourself and your personality:

Very autistic /hj. i chose to not change my personality, but i dont judge those who do so. im usually quite and i like to read and paint. As much as im a figure skater, i hate off ice training. YAKOV LEMME GO BACK TO THE ICE ALREADY I TOLD YOU IM FINE-

10. Do you have living parents/siblings?:

I do!! Both parents and a brother who annoys the shit out of me. but i love vitya. my parents not so much. i just dont process them cuz of their money

11. What is your gender/pronouns:

Im a female and use she/her pronouns!

12. What is the color of your eyes:

Blue. very blue. like the sky. im not poetic.

13. How do your hair looks like, is it long or short?:

VEEEEERY long straight white hair (or platinum according to vitya). more than one meter of hair. it keeps beating yura on the face when we are training. dont let him know i do it on purpose

14. Do you have any scars/unique visual traits?:

I think not? i do have a mole under my left eye but i dont think thats unique

15. Do you have tattoos or piercings?:

Not yet but i want to do it!! At least a few

16. Signature scent?:

Idk? but its sweet. im terrible with scents

17. Do you have any powers/species abilities?:

Not in this universe

18. Were do you live, how does it looks like?:

I live in Saint Petersburg!! i really like the city, its a city with sm history and knowing that such great people used to live in there in the past makes my heart warm

19. Is there other people living with you right now?:

Yesss i live with my brother viktor

20. What do you do for a living?:

Im a professional figure skater. very hard but artistic job

27. Is there magic in your reality?:

No :(

22. How much money do you have?:

...a lot.

23. Who are your friends/best friends:

YURI PLISETSKY :DDD hes my everything yknow idk what i would do without him. im also friends with mila

24. Are you older or younger than them?:

Im the youngest on the ice rink 😭😭 but im only one month younger than yura so that really doesnt count

25. Do you have a crush on someone?:

No! Im aromantic :)

26. How did you meet everyone for the first time?:

Okay so theres a lot of someones in this dr. most of the people i met was because of figure skating and viktor already being famous when i started skating but lets talk about specific ppl.

I met yura when he moved to spb and started ballet classes with lilia. he was so cute and determined and i HAD to be his friend. i was doing ballet w him btw

Did you think I would meet yuuri along with yura in sochi gpf? cuz i didnt. not in person at least. i already knew yuuri from name cause im curious and i wanted to know everyone who was competing in senior and his artistic skills were REALLY good (he kinda reminds me of adam siao in this reality). you also thought i would meet yuuri in the banquet. but i didnt. well i DID saw him DRUNK DANCING WITH MY BROTHER and giving him a LAP DANCE but i was too busy filming and taking photos of it to talk to him. i only officially met him when me and yura traveled to japan

i met chris in one of vityas competitions when i was little. im like 13 years younger than viktor remember that. and i. i was jealous of chris taking my brothers attention. and i. i spat on him. yeah.

27. What are your hobbies:

Ballet, reading and painting

28. What do you like to talk about with friends:

We talk a lot about music and ice skating ofc but we talk a lot about everything tbh 😭 we dont shut up

29. What is your favorite food and drink:

(yuras) dedushkas pirozhki 🤤🤤🤤 ONE CHANCE TOLYA ONE CH- *yura's interdimensional slap*

uhhh drink? whatever i have to drink ig some soda. i dont like vodka

30. Your favorite color:

PINKKKKKK

31. Your clothing style:

i dress whatever i feel in the moment. i can dress coquette or gothic it depends

32. Your favorite place to spend time on:

Ice rink :)

33. Favorite sport, if you have one:

Ice skating duh

34. Favorite weather:

Rainy cold gray days

35. Favorite time of the day:

dawn

36. Favorite season:

Winter. but russias winter is ROUGH

37. Your biggest fear:

This is too deep to post on tumblr lol i dont even know

38. What makes you very angry?:

When im almost done w the routine and i miss a jump and YAKOV MAKE ME DO IT ALL AGAIN-

39. What makes you very happy?:

Whenever all of my friends have time to spend together

40. Do you have any pet?:

Its vityas but shes also mine. makkachin <33 good girl

41. Do you consider yourself a good fighter?:

I do! I made sure to script that i know how to fight lol

42. Is there any people you dont like?:

I would say jj but he just annoys me. OH. SARAS BROTHER. THAT GUY GIVES ME THE ICK

43. Do you have a favorite song that describes yourself, or just a favorite song in general?:

Gladiator by jann. really one of my favorite songs and it describes perfectly my dr

44. Can you play any instrument or dance?:

I can play piano and cello. i know how to dance waltz but thats it

45. Do you like to take risks and make new friends, or you are more reserved?:

Im more reserved

46. What do you do when you get very bored?

Reread crime and punishment

47. Are you a great leader?

No autism goes brrrrr

48. How is your daily routine?

wake up. hygiene. eat breakfast while watching tv. ice rink. skate. lunch w whoever is at the rink. skate. skate. skate. home. shower. read. sleep.

49. Your favorite smell

That one chocolate chris gave me in 2014

50. A big secret you have/know

yuri on ice fans might want to know what happened to viktors hair. i know.

vitya was celebrating after the banquet with some other skaters, drunk after winning gold in the olympics for the second time. he black out. he then woke up in the next afternoon, after missing his flight back home, with four other figure skater and three hockey players, all of them in the ground, wearing only underwear. his hair was a mixture of vomit, alcohol and dirt from the floor. there were even a few gum stuck to it. he was not the only one.

so he had to cut it yeah

[five-rivers]

Stars Aligned Chapter 2

Here’s the thing.  Danny knew this was a dumb decision.  At least as dumb as stepping into the ghost portal (but at least he’d gotten some nifty powers out of that, hey?).  Whatever reason his bio-dad had for chucking him out the door within days of his birth couldn’t be good.  Putting himself within reach of the man…  Yeah.  Not his brightest thought.  

(Not to mention the wizards.  And witches.  That was so weird, how they had two different names for essentially the same thing. Then again… actor, actress…  Why were people so weird?)

On the other hand, twin brother.  Twin brother who had to live with aforementioned baby-abandoning bio-dad.  Twin brother who wasn’t allowed to visit America.  Or, Danny suspected, a family of squibs.  

Yeah.  

Yeah.  

So, here he was.  Getting everything in order for a wizard passport and wizard international travel, because bio-family refused to even look at an airport.  

Danny had a suspicion that, based on how they spelled the word and a few other comments in that particular letter, that they weren’t entirely clear on what an airport was.  

Fun.  

On the other hand, in comparison to the actual, normal, legal passport he’d gotten, just in case bio-family left him somewhere, wizard passports were much, much easier to get.  The wait times were practically nonexistent.  He could, in theory, get the passport on the same day he traveled.  All that was needed was proof he was a wizard and his adoption papers.  

Of course, ‘proof he was a wizard’ actually meant ‘wand.’  Wands being something they used as personal ID, despite the fact that they were a) sticks, and b) didn’t actually carry any personally identifiable information.  Sure, Jack said that they were somehow connected to their owners, but unless there were, like, giant books of details about everyone’s wands at every place that would, conceivably, need ID, and had people trained to identify all those tiny little characteristics…  Danny just couldn’t see how it would work.

Danny’s current theory was that all wizards were just insane, which meant that his twin would most likely fit right in with the rest of Danny’s family, right as soon as Danny figured out how to legally kidnap him.

(No, Danny didn’t have a ghostly Obsession, and it definitely wasn’t family related.  He was only half-ghost, after all.  Why do you ask?)

Anyway.  Wizard passport.  Wizard ID. Wizard sticks.  

Wands.  

Wands meant a nerve-wracking trip to the nearest wizarding town with Jack.  Evidently, he’d lived there a couple of years after his parents sent him away from Britain when he was around fourteen because of ‘the war.’

Abruptly, many of Jack’s stories about his childhood made more sense.

(It had always been something of a joke between Jazz and Danny to try and figure out what ‘the war’ was supposed to be, and if Jack’s parents had just… Conned him into thinking he’d eaten horse meat.  For some reason.  Even if the Fentons hadn’t seemed like that kind of people, no matter how eccentric.)

(Also, evidently Jazz and Danny had never met Jack’s biological parents, who were not named Fenton, although his adopted mother was also a witch.)

(Why was everything so complicated?)

 The “wizarding community” was a small town accessible only by a train line invisible to ‘no-majs.’  And also flying brooms.  Which wizards used.  Danny had seen the train before, not realizing that he wasn’t supposed to. Several times.  Usually while flying to Wisconsin to deal with whatever Vlad had done that week.  

If Danny was a wizard, was Vlad?  Was being half-ghost somehow tied up in being magical? What did that mean for Dani?

(Hey, maybe this whole affair could be used to bring Dani into the family safely.  Who was to say that he didn’t have a secret twin sister?)

Danny could admit that the town itself, which had almost a Ghost Zone vibe with how all the architecture seemed to be from fifty plus to a hundred years ago and also the physics breaking magic, was sort of cool. It was… cute, he guessed.  He didn’t really like how everyone was staring at Jack, their clothes were just as weird, but it wasn’t a new thing.  People always stared at Jack.  

That’s what happened when you wore hazard-orange jumpsuits twenty-four seven.  

The shops all had names out of a fantasy novel, and at one point they got turned around and wound up on a residential street where they had to ask for directions, but eventually they made it to ‘Willoughby’s Wand Emporium.’

The interior of Willoughby’s Wand Emporium reminded Danny strongly of a shoe store.  The shelves were all lined with boxes of approximately that size, and the employees all carried measuring tape.  It also smelled like a shoe store: musty and dry, with a hint of polish.  Or maybe it was wood varnish?  Or some kind of paint.  

A young woman bounced up.  “Hi, how can we help you today?  Replacement wand?”

“First time, actually,” said Jack.  

“Oh, I’m sorry,” said the woman.  “You’re just so tall for your age.”

“I’m fourteen,” said Danny.  

The woman began to turn red.

“He was missed,” said Jack.  “It happens.”  He smiled, but it looked far more strained than usual.  

“Oh,” said the woman.  “Ahem.  Well, if you’ll come right this way, I can start taking measurements, and start trying out wands.  The wand chooses the wizard, they say!”

“Okay,” said Danny, shrugging.  That was… interesting.  Were the wands sentient?  Did that somehow make them acceptable IDs?

Seemed really weird to keep sentient things stored in boxes.

… Said the kid who stored sentient beings in a soup thermos.

A really high-tech soup thermos.

Didn’t make it better.  

Except he didn’t keep them in the thermos indefinitely.  Except for Dan.  

Danny didn’t know if the wizards kept the wands in boxes indefinitely, either.  Maybe he should stop assuming things.  That had gotten him in trouble with ghosts more than once.

The woman took her measuring tape from where it hung around her shoulders, held it out in front of herself, and promptly dropped it. It did not fall.  

As basic as levitation was for ghosts, it was really weird to see a human do it.  (Especially when it always took so much concentration for him to levitate things other than himself—Hence why he never really used the ability in battle.)

The measuring tape flitted around Danny’s head, shoulders, arms, and body, taking measurements.  He had to sit on his reflexes hard to prevent himself from trying to catch it or knock it out of the air.  

He was so nervous.  Was it normal to be nervous?

The measuring tape snaked back through the air to the woman, who smiled.  “Alright,” she said, “we can start with that.  Uh, to explain the process, we usually start out with wands in the appropriate size range and try and zero in on the ones that respond best to you from there.”  She flicked her own wand, and several thin boxes slid themselves off the shelves.  “We use a wide variety of wand woods from a variety of wandmakers.  Just about any tree that grows in North America is probably represented here.” She paused.  “Except for palm trees.”

“That makes sense,” said Danny.  Palm trees were quite different from other trees.  

“Alright.  Let’s start with pine.  The core of this one is dragon heartstring—Harvested humanely, of course!”

“Core?” said Danny, latching on to the familiar word even as he regarded the wand itself dubiously.  

“Yes.  As with our woods, we also stock a wide range of wand cores.  Each wand has a core made of a small part of a magical creature.  Dragon heartstring, unicorn hair, and phoenix feather are the standard ones…  But that standardization is rather British.  We have a few others available.  Thunderbird tail feather—Only taken during molt.  Wampus cat hair.  Dittany. Rougarou hair.  Jackalope antler…  Those are the more common ones, though we do have others.  Even some kneazle whisker, although most people don’t want those.”

“Why not?”

“Ah, they tend not to be very strong.  But sheer power isn’t everything.  Some prefer control, need lower power output…  or are worried about accidents while they’re learning.  We do see some adult learners every now and then.”

That actually sounded sort of appealing to Danny, but he supposed he’d better go about this normally.  At least at first.  

He picked up the pine wand and immediately dropped it.  

“Ow,” he said.  

“Ow?” repeated the woman.  “Oh,” she said, catching sight of the burn on his hand.  “That’s… not supposed to happen.”

“Y’know,” said Danny, conversationally, “I’ve only held, like, two magical things in my life, and both of them have damaged my hands. Is this, like, a common thing, or am I just ridiculously unlucky.”

“Second one, I think,” said the woman.  “Cynthia’s good at minor healing charms.  I’m going to go get her.  Okay?  Okay.”

Shortly thereafter, phoenix feather wands were also eliminated as a possibility, not because they burned Danny, but because they seemed intent on burning everything else around him.  Pine wands were also a definite no-go (“Don’t worry about the lifespan thing,” said the woman, “that’s a myth.”).  As was everything but elder, apple, pear, hornbeam, thorn, and yew (this list got another mention of myths from the shop assistant).  

At this point, the shop owner, Mrs. Willoughby, was drawn out from the back room to observe the mess Danny was making.  

“My,” she said, “I haven’t seen anyone have this much trouble in a while.  Heather, why don’t you go get some of the specialty cores.”

“I thought the unicorn was working well,” protested the woman who’d been helping Danny so far.  She winced as Danny picked up a new wand and exploded a light.  “Comparatively.”

“Yes, we could probably eventually find a unicorn hair wand that would work for him, but all things considered…  I feel like we should explore other avenues.”  She sniffed.  “Nothing associated with fire.  Perhaps kelpie mane?”

“I’ll check,” said Heather.  

.

Kelpie mane, it turned out, did the same sort of thing as phoenix tail feather when it came to Danny.  Only with a lot more water involved.  

“I didn’t think that would work, anyway,” said Mrs. Willoughby.

“Then why,” said Danny, wringing water out of his shirt, “did you have me try it?”

“Oh, cases like you greatly improve our understanding of wandlore,” said Mrs. Willoughby.  “You’re not likely to have noticed this yet, but the population of wizards and witches is so small compared to the no-maj population that everyone who gets very far in a profession has to be a bit of an innovator.  I’m recording this for future reference, and I’ll be looking forward to seeing what you do in life.  If anything.  It would be very helpful to me if you became famous.”

“Hard pass on that,” said Danny.  

“Or at least come back at some point.”

“I’ll consider it,” said Danny.  “But, like, we were really hoping to do other things today, so maybe…”  He made a circular motion with his hand.  “Or at least, ugh, I don’t know.  I feel like everything you give me is trying to kill me.”

It was a very familiar feeling, and a very unwelcome one, nonetheless.  

“We really aren’t,” said Mrs. Willoughby.  “But perhaps… from now on, we’ll limit to the woods to the Rosaceaes.  The others tend to be called unlucky.  Well, except for the hornbeam.  Is there anything you’re singularly passionate about?”

Singularly passionate?  “Not really,” said Danny, who did not think about ghosts or helping people or space. He shifted, uncomfortable, and squelched.  

Screw it.  He was supposedly a wizard, now, right?

He phased the water off himself.  

“Oh my god!” shouted Heather.  “Did you do that on purpose?”

“Uh,” said Danny.  “No?”

“Calm down, Heather.  Don’t act like you’ve never seen accidental magic before.”

“Not with a teenager doing it!”

They were now attracting a crowd.  Yay.  

“He’s not trained, yet,” said Mrs. Willoughby, unconcerned.  “Don’t be rude.”

“Yeah, can we get back on track, here?”

After a few more tries, Mrs. Willoughby had determined that the wood that reacted the least badly to Danny was hawthorn.  Then she sent Heather into the storage room to fetch more.  

“I don’t know why we even have these,” said Heather, under her breath, carrying several boxes marked with stamps that read ‘THESTRAL.’

“Because some people have trauma, Heather.”

“He’s a teenager.  I seriously doubt he has deep personal experiences with death.”

“Wow, way to assume, Heather,” said another shop assistant, who was passing by with a far-too-curious customer.  

“Here,” said Mrs. Willoughby, handing Danny a box.  “Try this one.  It’s hawthorn.”

With some suspicion, Danny slid the cover off the box and gingerly picked up the wand inside.  

It didn’t do anything like what the other wands had. Instead, the slender length of wood gave him a faint echo of the feeling he got when he was on an emotional high and engaging in either extreme mischief or obsession-adjacent activities (because he did not have a real, ghostly, capital-O Obsession).

Danny declined to hold it with all five fingers, lest he be overcome with mania.

Yes, he was paranoid.  But when touching things can go as badly for you as they did for Danny, paranoia was justified.  

“Oh, it looks like you’ve found your match,” said Mrs. Willoughby, clapping.  

With the ease of practice, Danny did not let any trace of horror or unease show on his face.  He ignored the surge of glee from the wand, and carefully placed it back in the box.  

Yeah.  He needed a wand for passport purposes, but there was no way he was going to use that.  He’d just fake magic with ghost powers.  It had been working out okay so far.  

What was the worst that could happen?

A rather relieved Jack paid for the wand, and they made their way, slowly, to the government building.  

“So,” said Jack.  “You want to save getting those beginner magic manuals for another day?”

“Absolutely,” said Danny.  He wondered if his twin had gone through anything even remotely like this and if it was really worth all this trouble to meet a person he would have basically nothing in common with other than blood.  

Blood that likely meant less than usual, considering that his was diluted with ectoplasm.  A fact he would have to hide.  With no allies or back up.  In England.

(Again, this whole endeavor was not his greatest idea.)

.

Draco supervised the house-elves as they cleaned out the room next to his own, feeling rather blank.  He had campaigned vigorously for his twin to come, but now that he was…

The boy, for all that he was as much a Malfoy as Draco, was an American for all intents and purposes.  What did Americans even like?  What did they call their bastardized version of Quidditch?  Would Deneb even know about wizard games?  According to the woman from the agency, he’d been raised as a muggle by those squibs he’d been placed with.  

Slowly but surely, Draco’s heart sank.  He had no idea what his twin would be like.  Deneb, despite being his brother, would essentially be a stranger.  

He was beginning to understand why his mother was so angry at his father.  

[awanderingdeal]

Never too late - 6 - 7

A continuation of Leo and Regulus’ attempts (antics) to give Regulus the childhood he never had.

CW: Food talk

Please message me if you feel I need to add any content warnings

Rating: T

Previous and future chapters can be found on my masterlist

Credit for the sweater universe and the characters within it go to @lumosinlove. What a hero.

[This is currently unedited, and I'm not that happy with it, but also my writing mojo has decided it is vacay time so it is what is it]

6. Go to camp! You’ll make friends for life.

“Le! Did you order something?” Finn called, appearing in the doorway of the kitchen carrying a large box.

“Yeah, it’s the t-shirts,” Leo nodded, scraping the onions he’d just chopped into the pot. “Put it on the island for me please, babe.”

Finn looked down at the box, making a show of testing its weight before he looked back at Leo with wide eyes, “This seems like...a lot.”

After adjusting the temperature on the stovetop slightly, Leo washed his hands and made to inspect the delivery. “Err, yeah. Potts got wind of the plan and got all excited. Half the team are coming now,” he smiled sheepishly.

“Of course that happened,” Finn threw his head back with a laugh. “You might as well make it a thing.”

“A thing?” Leo repeated, throwing Finn a bemused look.

“Uhh huh,” Finn nodded.

“I’m gonna need more, babe,” Leo said, lifting one of the shirts out of the box and running the material through his fingers, humming a note of approval.

“More shirts? There’s like 50 here,” Finn frowned.

“No, love,” Leo laughed, shaking his head “More on what a ‘thing’ is.”

“Ohh, got you,” Finn chuckled, leaning against the counter. “I just meant, if half the team is coming anyway, you might as well invite the other half. Get the kids involved. You know, a thing.”

“That’s not a bad idea, actually,” Leo cocked his head.

“Well, I did go to Harvard,” Finn shrugged, rooting around in the fruit bowl to find a suitable pear. One that wasn't too big because Finn got bored of flavours quickly and could never finish them. One that wasn't too soft, because he hated the sticky mess on his hands. In the early days of their relationship, Leo had been excited for the adventures that were going to come with his boyfriends, but he hadn't been prepared for how much the little nuggets of information he would discover about them would mean to him. The satisfied smile that appeared on his Finn’s face as he procured the perfect one was infectious.

“Such big brain energy and yet he still can’t load a dishwasher,” Leo retorted, motioning to the stack of crockery that had been abandoned on the counter.

***

“I have no idea why I put up with you,” Regulus scowled, covering his eyes with his hands. “Okay, I promise I can’t see.”

“Because I’m your best friend, obviously,” Leo replied, making a stupid face to ensure that Regulus was, in fact, telling the truth, and began to lead him towards the back door.

“Obviously,” Regulus drawled. “Do I get a choice in this best friend business?”

“Well, you can try and resist it if you want, but I am incredibly loveable and inevitably you will have to succumb to my charm so you might as well just deal with it,” Leo said.

Regulus gave a resigned sigh, “I suppose as best friends go you aren’t too bad.”

Leo laughed, punching Regulus lightly in the shoulder before telling him to watch out for the step up into the back yard.

“I hope you know that if I break my neck, you will be paying for -” Regulus started.

“Wegggie!!” Harry shouted through a mouthful of graham crackers that James had been trying to buy his silence with.

“Is that?” Regulus pulled his hands from his face, his eyes going wide at the scene in front of him. Leo had to admit he may have gone a little overboard with the execution of the summer camp. What had started off as a few classic summer camp activities had turned into a carefully planned extravaganza. There was a climbing wall and he’d hired an events team that taught archery. Between the games of dodgeball and capture the flag, there would be time for tye-dying, friendship bracelet making, water balloons, tug of war and much more. Of course he hadn’t skimped on the food either: burgers, pizza, vegetable sticks, taco salad and hot dogs; there was a long buffet table laden with an endless supply.

Regulus pulled Leo back inside, tugging him further into the kitchen so that the crowd of Lion’s players and their families couldn’t see them. “Leo, this is too much.”

Leo looked at Regulus trying to read his friend, but the other boy was infuriatingly closed off. “Look, if you really don’t want this, I’ll go and tell everybody to enjoy themselves and we can get out of here.”

Regulus huffed out a breath, “It’s not that I don’t want to...it’s...it’s weird everybody being here. They are obviously just here because you asked them and I feel like an add on.”

“Okay, let me stop you right there,” Leo held up a hand. “You practically live at Kris’ house the amount of time you spend there with Avie. Celeste loves you like a seventh? eighth? child...honestly, I’ve lost track of how many children they’ve adopted at this point. You and Olli…”

“Alright, alright,” Regulus interrupted, “I get your point.” He cocked his head slightly, “Huh, I guess I didn’t realise how much I’ve settled here.”

“You need a second to process that or are you ready to go have some fun, because I think Harry might eat all the s’more supplies if we wait much longer.”

***

Leo leaned into Logan’s shoulder, smiling as he watched his boyfriend show Katie how to toast her s’more in the bonfire that crackled in front of them. He was admiring the softness of the French leaving Logan’s mouth, when Regulus plopped himself onto the large log they were sitting on, a sleeping Aveline clinging to him.

“Hey, Reggie,” Leo greeted, turning his soft smile to his friend. “You alright?”

“I’m good. I just wanted to say thank you,” Regulus nodded, shifting Aveline into a more comfortable position. Leo noticed that Regulus had added another 3 new friendship bracelets to his haul since he had last got a moment to catch up with him. “For all this. This day has been amazing. All of it. I’m not sure if summer camp would have been my thing really, but I never really got to do fun family garden parties either and this has been incredible. ”

Any reply that Leo was about to make was disturbed, by Aleandra dumping a water balloon over Marc’s head right in front of them, their loud screams causing Aveline to wake with a cry.

7.Decorate your room! Paint the walls, buy new bedding and pick some new accessories! Make it your space.

"Well," Leo set a pile of magazines on the bed with a soft thud. It was a little old-school, but he was adamant that it was easier to come up with a complete picture this way. "What do you like? You don't have to know exactly, but we can't go to Ikea without any idea." He let out a soft snort at the unintentional rhyme.

Regulus looked up at him, wide eyed, as if he'd just asked him to supply the solution for world peace. "I don't know," he shrugged, toying with the sleeve of his shirt.

"You must have some thoughts."

"I don't know," Regulus snapped. "I've never had to make these decisions before. There was no point liking anything, because our parents would do what they wanted either way." He spat the words, and despite how it made Leo feel he knew the anger was a sign of some sort of progress. Not even a few months ago, his friend had spoken about his childhood like it was just a different form of normal.

"I'm sorry," Leo apologised, climbing onto the bed next to Regulus.

"It's not your fault, is it," Regulus shrugged, tucking his knees to his chest.

"I shouldn't have pushed you for an answer," Leo clarified, moving the magazines out the way and dragging his laptop from the bedside table. “Look, how about we go through Pinterest and you can pick some pins you vibe with. I’m sure we’ll find a trend.”

“Yeah,” Regulus breathed, shuffling closer to Leo. “Yeah, okay.”

***

“What the hell, there’s more,” Regulus said in awe as they rounded another corner to be confronted by rows of rattan baskets.

“I think we’re nearly at the end.” Leo looked up from the map he was trying to follow, almost stumbling over the cart when Regulus came to a sudden halt.

“These are nice,” Regulus mused, picking up a walnut coloured weaved basket. “My towels will look nice in these.”

“I’m sure they would,” Leo chuckled. He shouldn’t have been so surprised by how quickly Regulus had gained an affinity for interior design considering how he had taken to honing his clothing style with such ease.

“Oh! But these are nice too.” Regulus turned to show Leo another basket, that was identical in every way except for being perhaps a shade lighter.

Leo groaned. They had been in the store for over 3 hours and the cart was overflowing. His friend was adamant he was going to pay his own way and considering the short amount of time he had played for Slytherin along with the legal fees to end his contract early, the man was having to learn to budget to be able to afford college. Leo had suggested that doing a couple of interviews would leave him with a fair buffer, but Regulus had wanted to put as much space between hockey and his new life as possible. Leo was supportive, but Regulus seemed to be having trouble getting out the habit of buying everything he wanted.

“Right, pick one and then close your eyes. We need to get out of here.”

***

“Up a little on the left,” Leo instructed, shaking his head as Regulus lifted the left side of the photo frame considerably. “No, not that much.”

“That’ll do.”

“It’s not straight!”

“Neither are you and you don’t see us complaining,” Regulus huffed as he adjusted the frame again.

“You’re just jealous,” Leo threw one of Regulus’ new cushions across the room, hitting him squarely in the back of the head.

“Eww,” Regulus deadpanned. “And please do not throw my things,” he glared, hugging the cushion to his chest.

Leo was about to make a comment back, but he was interrupted by Sirius clearing his throat in the doorway.

“Got you a present,” Sirius said, holding out a large bag.

“Sirius.” Regulus crossed his arms over his chest, his face set into a disapproving stare. “I told you -”

“Think of it as an early birthday present,” Sirius interrupted.

“My birthday is not for another 4 months.”

“Just take it. I promise I’ll let you do this the way you want, but you’ve got to let me buy you things every now and then too. That’s what big brothers do.”

Regulus sighed, crossing the room to take the bag from Sirius. “Thanks,” he muttered, the corners of his mouth lifting despite his best efforts. The smile spread further as he laid the mustard coloured herringbone throw he’d been salivating over in the small boutique they’d visited a few days prior.

“You’re welcome,” Sirius nodded. “Looks good in here, by the way. We’ll have to find you an apartment in New York that will be big enough to fit it all in.” he commented, walking away as he finished his sentence.

“I’m paying for the apartment!” Regulus called after him. Leo barked a laugh as Regulus ranted about stubborn humans on NHL wages. Regulus poked a finger at him. “You can be quiet. I know this was your doing.”

[popculturebuffet]

Green Eggs and Ham Reviews: Car (Patreon Review for Emma Fici) “The Green Eggs and Ham Circle of Hell”

Hello all you happy people! And welcome back to my monthly reviews of green eggs and ham for my patron Emma Fici. If you too want a review a month simply join the 5 dollar tier on my patreon, link is HERE. Join soon won’t you, new  month starts saturday and if you join by then i’ll add your review to the schedule and the 5 dollars helps reach my next set of stretch goals. So join me won’t you?

Plugging aside we’re back as Sam and Guy finally properly hit the road, we find out just waht the chickaraffe is like, and find out from Michelle that you can somehow make a second impression even worse than an already odiious first impression. So with no real background to cover join me under the cut on the road to meepville, come on inside. 

Previously on Green Eggs and Ham: Guy Am I, a failed inventor failed once again in front of a large audience, leaving his dreams broken and himself planning to head to Meepville to take a job watching paint dry. He met Sam I Am, an enegetic animal thief whose desperate for friends, and accidentally swapped suitcases with him, leading to Sam ending up with the Chickaraffe, a rare animal Sam swiped from the zoo. We also let Michelle a smothering mother who treats her child EB terribly by overprotecting her and is in general a smug consdesencing bitch, our main villian Snerz who has someone bringing him the meep and the BAD GUYS, a mysterious mismatched duo after the chickaraffe.

We pick up where we left off: Guy is being stalked by a mysterious shadow. of the chickaraffe.. only for it to turn out to be a friendly, cuddly creature as you’d expect, if a bit destructive as it destroys all the vases in the room, which comically are expensive and in general casuses chaos. it’s a fun scene. Guy gets it to sleep BREIFLY when his complimentary lullabye shows up, but it wakes right after due to the door slamming. 

Meanwhile Sam discovers the Chickaraffe, which he plans to take to Meepville, is gone, and we get a cut to Smerz who is not pleased his chickaraffe is delayed by someone and threatnes to put them in his wall if they don’t bring the chickaraffe on time because he’s the kind of sadistic dick who already puts a bunch of animals in a wall for his own viewing pleasure, why wouldn’t he threaten murder or imprinsment for slight inconvenience. We catch up with said BAD GUYZ with Mcwinkle sugarcoating the fact the boss is not happy, and Gluntz not only catching onto that.. but also having alreayd found their perp as Sam  bought his kite polevault and snorkel from Lem’s Kite Polevault and Snorkel (”Plummeting out of business”). While they do that Guy gets Sam’s adress from Donna. So it turns out sometimes giving your adress out to random strangers CAN pan out. The last time I did that I got shived by a guy dressed like soundwave on my front lawn. 

Naturally given Guy’s luck he winds up running into the bad guys who mistake him for the thief given he has the chickaraffe, and back him into a cliff with a net gun because that’s what BAD GUYS do.. or rather people with that acronym who don’t get how due process or a misunderstanding works. Thankfully Sam swipes their car and rescues guy .. it also has a bunch of hats trailing for some reaosn I don’t know what that’s all about. 

So with our heroes to the road, they swap plans... well more like Sam tells his of taking the chikaraffe to meepville and Guy sorta grunts out that he’s going to watch paint dry, with Sam.. not impressed at all and clearly feeling like he’s giving up on his dreams.. Which he is, and to Sam’s credit he’s TRYING to be tactful. Trying is the key word but given the man has no real filter tha’ts understandable.  Guy not wanting ot be an accesory to crime gets out and decides to hitchike. Same TRIES to get him to stay because he’s clingy like that, but eventually leaves and Guy is left to wander the desert. 

And it’s here... my patience for Michelle runs out. Guy is trying thitchike she passes by, SLOWLY, as in the same speed as walking.. and not only puts up a bunch of security btu calls him a weirdo, without actually ASKING why he’s in the desert asking fo ra drive, assumes he’s going to hurt her and her daughter and says all this within earshot, something he calls her out on. I already had little patience for the character but I assumed you know sh’ed get better, maybe have some depths or something that explained why she’ such a bitch. But no amount of depth can really.. excuse the way she acts. I GET wnating to help keep her daughter safe, I do , I get not wanting to pick up randos on the side of the road. Both things are necessary. But Guy... is clearly not dangerous, clearly not doing anything, and clearly about to pass out from heat stroke.. and you just ignore him and assume i’ts his fault because your a self righteous, smug, selfish sampler platter of bitch. I get she’s supposed to have an arc, so are Guy and Sam.. but Guy and Sam are LIKEABLE. Guy is a bit grumpy but beaten down by life and the world and Sam’s a bit in your face, but is clearly deeply lonely. BOth have things that justify it.  Michelle is later revealed to have lost her husband apparently, so I know she has some depth and some reason for how she acts with ehr daguther.. but how she treats guy in both episodes so far just makes her so unlikeable and there’s NTOHING to explain it. She just makes assumptions about him for stupid reasons and treats him like garbage and it’s nto nearly as funny as the series thinks. I do not look forward to 11 more episodes with this character and feel any time she’s on screen she drains the energy out of a show tha’ts bursting with it. 

Thankfully she’s gone for the rest of the episode, so Guy is free to have a horrifying heat induced nightmare about green eggs and ham. 

Yup. in the best part of the episode, Guy has a small breakdown and we get a horrifying and wonderful acid sequence wher ethe road melts, he’s stalked by green eggs, and ham, which is everywhere, and when he thinks he’s getting some rain it’s in fact green egg drippings. It’s just so delightfully batshit and unexpected. I love EVERYTHING about this. I admit when I woke up today and turned htis on I wasn’t expecting Guy to end up in a heastroke induced nightmarish hellscape with living green eggs and ham, nor did I ever expect htat but I can’t say i’m dispaointed. 

He snaps out of it when Sam shows up. Unsuprisingly Sam didn’t want to leave without him, and simply looped around having picke dup some green eggs and ham and some hot and cold choclate.. naturally he accidnetly gives guy the hot choclate first. Still it shows that beneath is all too pushy and needy demeanour.. Sam’s a good guy and genuinely WANTS to help well.. Guy. He looped around entirely aware Guy wouldn’t find a ride probably but would be too stubborn to accept it if he kept pushing so he simply went to get him some help. 

Even Guy’s stubborn Grumpusness can’t fight dying of heatstroke so he relucntantly agrees to be travel buddies and Sam nicely agrees to drive while the poor guy get somre rest, especially since the whole escapade with the chikarafffe liekly means he’s gotten no sleep whatsoever. 

And so as the episode ends this naturally goes pear shaped as Guy wakes up to find the car about to tumble over a cliff into a lake. TO BE CONTINUED. Next month

FInal THoughts: This episode was okay. I didn’t like it as much as the premire nor really have as much to say about it, as it just wans’t as deep... it was still VERY funny, with tons of great gags i glossed over, like Gluntz having the party she set up for her partner, he intends for this to be his last job, slowly back away as the job’s now longer thanks to Sam and Guy getting away. But while the first half is fine with plenty of energy, jokes and plto progression the second half just stalls: outside of the green eggs and ham circle of hell, there’s really just not a lot that’s funny, with Michelle being ungodly obnoxious and sam being a bit obnoxious, coming on a bit strong with Guy and never once apoologizing to him for getting him nearly captured and arrested. It just drags on and on a bit, and it just isn’t funny to see poor guy tourture dfor rightfully not wanting ot travel with someone who nearly got him captured by shady goons, or get rejected a ride by a self righteous harpy. It’s not TERRIBLE, I still can’t wait to see what happens next, but it’s a marked step down after last episode. 

And i’ll see you next month for next episode, here tommorow for the next chapter of life and times and if you fancy joining my patreon, I inend to have an exclusive review of Thunder Force up sometime this week. Until the next rainbow it’s been a pleasure. 

[chyrstis]

Far Cry Fanzine 2020

Written for the Far Cry 2020 Fanzine, which you should absolutely check out here!

This was a take on a moment leading up to the start of the game, namely one where Sharky's going about his daily business only for things to quickly go pear-shaped (which was why this was named ‘I’m sorry, Sharky’ for so long, b/c I feel like I owe him an apology). I was lucky enough to work with the amazing @farcrying here, and to also have @amistrio, @guileandgall , and @writerofblocks​ read through this for me to make sure it was coherent enough to post. You're all awesome, and I hope you never forget that. Oh, and this lovely title? It's entirely @writerofblocks​ fault, and I can't thank her enough for that stroke of pun-fueled genius.

I also can't thank @unclefungusthegoat​​ enough for putting so much time, effort, and love into making this happen, as well as @lucy-and-loki​​ for giving each entry some amazing details to help them stand out.

Title: A Mine-or Inconvenience Rating: T Word Count: 1.2K Warnings: Drinking, dead animals (one very unlucky boar to be exact), explosions

Link to AO3!

___

Sharky’s day is off to a rough start, but it soon takes a turn even he wasn’t expecting. ...And that’s counting the smoking, boar-shaped spot on his front lawn.

______________

Sharky’s back hurt. Ached like he’d spent the night bending it into shapes no back should ever be bent into. Not to mention his mouth was dry, and full of the kind of awful that told him the batch of alcohol he’d brewed might’ve turned a bit. Just enough to taste off, but not enough to toss it, and last night he’d drained a good bottle and a half of it before passing out. Not even on his bed, but on the floor half-under it, wound up in a sweatshirt pretending to be a blanket.

He didn’t even remember ending up there, and that probably should’ve told him how the day was going to go.

Getting up took more effort than he liked, and in the middle of taking a leak he’d nearly nodded off right then and there. Felt his eyelids droop as he stood there in the bathroom, and that’s when the hangover started taking potshots at his senses.

Fuzzy-headed and floating, Sharky took a step only to have his foot catch on something and slip right out from under him. Jeans. The same pair he’d shucked off the night before, and he only realized it when his bare ass hit the floor right next to them. That fucking hurt, but it beat taking a header straight into the toilet.

Pulling his underwear back up, he flopped onto his back. At least now if anyone happened to stop by – usually Hurk, but those Peggie pamphlet pushers were coming by more and more often – he wouldn’t have his dick hanging out. Shit, company was company, but he’d at least try to be polite. Give them the option of wanting to see more of him instead of laying it all out there from the start. That’s what being a gentleman was all about, after all.

Groaning, he pushed himself up and smacked his lips.

That’s when he picked up on it. The squealing. He’d chalked it up to his mind fucking with him, but it kept on going. Didn’t stop even after he’d climbed to his feet and gave his hands a quick wash under the faucet.

Growing louder, and louder, and louder-

The house shook, and the sound that went off sent him straight to his knees. Scrambling, and glad he hadn’t headbutted the sink, Sharky double-timed it to the door.

That wasn’t normal. In fact, that sounded a hell of a lot like-

He stopped, and thought back to last night. How he’d gone outside, set to get a big ol’ fire going only to tear ass in the opposite direction. Small and quick, he’d nearly lost his face to the snarling shadow on his heels, and collapsed once he’d managed to barricade the door behind him. The minute it was clear again, however, he’d left a little something to deal with it. He’d left a lot of little somethings, digging up half of his lawn to place the mines, and wondered just what he’d caught as he followed the smoke straight to the source outside.

The scorched spot on the dirt below was pretty big. He could see where the mine had been tripped, and given it’d been roughly ten to fifteen feet from his house, he’d been lucky it hadn’t blown the wall in, or been any of his party crashers. Those were for special occasions only, and burning half of his shit down just ‘cause he was blindsided by a wolverine wasn’t one of them.

But it’d been more than enough to get the job done here. And judging from what was left of the boar, he’d better get to finding the other mines he’d buried fast, or he was looking to join it. Waving his hand in front of his face to try and cut through the smell, he tugged his hoodie up to cover his nose as he glanced down at the messy path below.

…Then further beyond that towards the pair of white trucks rolling up. Sharky took in the painted cross on their sides, and leaned over the rail to get a better look at them.

Usually the Peggies didn’t spare more than a single truck at most, the exception being the time when he had motherfucking John Seed out here on his doorstep. He at least had pants on then, but it’d hardly been worth dragging himself over to the door to answer. Even with some of the hottest chicks he’d seen in a while, John’s smug-ass face put the brakes on any fun faster than he would’ve liked.

But John wasn’t here, and the Peggies he eyed didn’t look like they’d try to buy the shirt off of his back only to sell it back at five times the price. The ones in the truck bed climbed out, guns in hand, and his heart started pounding in time to his head.

“Yo, what’s happening, amigos?” Sharky called out. “You need something?”

Another climbed out of the passenger seat of the truck, his long, dark coat brushing the dirt. Right on the front of his face was the top prize for the worst tattoo placement he’d ever seen, and the cross running from the side of his cheek all the way down to his chin was one he’d notice even from over a hundred paces out.

That had nothing on the strange look in his eyes, though. Or the way he started talking at him. “You have been chosen! By his word you’ve been given one final chance to see if the message of the Father is one you wish to welcome into your heart.”

“Chosen?” Sharky’s eyebrows rose as the man started to approach him, and figured it’d probably be better to have this talk while he wasn’t scratching his ass. “That’s uh, that’s news to me, man. ‘Cause you’re still banning a whole lot of things that make life worth living, and I’m not really digging the idea of going with Joe’s flow if he ain’t changing that.”

The Peggie took a step forward, then two.

Each brought him closer to the house, and Sharky’s hands started to itch for the shotgun laying across his kitchen table. Just something solid to place between them and himself, because this was far from friendly. Sure, he hadn’t given them the best welcome before, but this group was clearly on the verge of fucking his shit up. The guns were still there, out and angling towards him, and he felt his smile slip right into a grimace.

And when the guy kept on talking, he didn’t let up. Went straight for the kind of expression that would’ve had anyone running in the opposite direction, and raised his voice loud enough for Sharky to want to screw his eyes shut.

“This is not to be taken lightly or dismissed, because this is not an offer. No, this is an opportuni-“

Sharky saw his eyes widen as a click went off. The kind he’d been unable to hear himself above the sound of the faucet running and the squealing of the vaporized boar, and prepped himself to bolt.

‘Cause if this was going the way of any of his and Hurk’s top ten movie marathon classics – and all signs were pointing straight to ‘hell yes’ - every good chase always started off with a bang.

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Roguish Women Part 32

Summary: Kate is an American who fled to Paris to escape her past life. Now she's dancing and playing the part of a courtesan at the Moulin Rouge. There she meets Tommy Shelby who thinks she can be useful in expanding his empire. But has he been blinded?

Part 32: Kate and Tommy meet Alice Diamond, leader of the Forty Elephants.

            Birmingham got a taste of luxury once the Shelbys started to really bring in money. People around Small Heath started to become familiar with the sight of a three-piece suit and expensive cars.

            Still, heads turned when Alice Diamond stepped out of her car and walked into the factory. She didn’t attempt to hide her wealth. She’d grown up poor and lived the part for many years. Now, it was her turn to receive what she felt she deserved. And if she wanted to flaunt it, she would.

            She wore an embroidered silk coat that was lined with fur on the cuffs and neck. Where she managed to get silk was anyone’s guess. She wore a matching cloche hat in a stunning royal blue with a couple of exotic feathers tucked in the band. Her heels couldn’t be heard over the loud noise until she made her way up the stairs to the offices. The diamond on her finger glinted when she removed her coat, revealing a fashionable wrap dress. Aside from her display of wealth, she also stood inches over the men she passed and her naturally tall height was only enhanced by her heels. A true fuck-you to the notion that women were supposed to be tiny little things, Alice never neglected to wear heels. She didn’t care if she was taller than other men. In fact, she welcomed it.  

            “Miss Diamond.” Kate smiled. She stood beside Tommy near the stairs to greet their guests. Because while Alice Diamond turned heads, her counterpart was a bit more subdued. Maggie Hill, born into a criminal family, she was certainly tougher and favored respect over jewels.

            “Please, call me Alice.” She fanned herself. “It’s warm in here.”

            “It’ll be cooler in me office; I have a fan going,” Tommy assured her.

            “You must be Kate.” Alice pointedly ignored Tommy and shook Kate’s hand first.

            “I’m glad we could meet.” Kate shook her hand.

            “This is my associate, Maggie Hill.”

            “You’re Billy Hill’s sister,” Tommy remarked. Kate had made sure that there had been no prior run-ins with the Elephant and Castle gang or anything that might derail the negotiations. But he knew Billy’s gang was on the decline, so he set his sights for bigger players like Sabini and Alfie.

            The woman who stood as Alice’s shadow looked Tommy up and down. “You shot Billy Kimber.” Responding in such a way that was very common to Tommy and Kate. Never really answering questions, instead only replying with another question.

            It was interesting to know that despite the years that had passed, somethings could never escape Tommy’s repertoire. Never mind that he created an empire, some people only saw him for the people he’d taken down. Not that he minded much, it was good people didn’t forget who he was.

            Maggie scrutinized him. “I thought you’d be bigger, the way people talk ‘bout you.”

            “We all like to have a bit of myth about ourselves, don’t we?” Kate smiled. “Tommy’s office is just this way.” She led the women to the office.

            Tommy shut the door behind them as they got settled.

            “Alfie had a lot of good things to say about you, Kate,” Alice said. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard him say a nice thing about anyone.”

            She laughed as she sat down beside Tommy’s chair, waiting for him to sit as well. “Alfie’s become a dear friend.”

            “Well, any friend of Alfie is a friend of ours.” Alice crossed her ankles and rested her hands on her knees.

            As Tommy was sitting, he noticed the pear-shaped ruby gemstone dangling from Alice’s necklace. “That’s quite the stone.” He remarked, pointing to it. “Did you steal that from Liberty’s on Regent Street? I hear they have very nice things.”

            Kate kicked him under the desk but Alice merely looked amused.

            “I don’t wear anything stolen, Mr. Shelby.” She replied coolly. “And I hardly have the time to lift anything anymore. I’ve got an operation to run, after all.” She touched the point of the ruby. “That’s the difference between you and me. The police don’t have a leg to stand on when it comes to trying to lock me up. What do they have? Nothing. I don’t get my hands dirty these days.”

            “You hire mercenaries,” Tommy responded as if they were talking about nothing but the weather. “Men who lay down the law for you.”

            Alice smiled and glanced over at Maggie. “So maybe all those stories about his cleverness aren’t shit.”

            Her associate merely shrugged.           

            It was difficult to judge the look on Tommy’s face. Kate figured she could read him well enough by that point in their relationship. But there were sometimes when he didn’t let anything past his stony expression. She knew a couple of jabs at his intelligence, or height, wouldn’t shake him. Lord knows anyone who put up with Alfie Solomons would have to learn to take a joke. Plus, he kept Kate around even when she teased him. He did like smart women. But she knew that he wasn’t really in a jovial mood those days. Hardly anyone in his family was speaking to him and he had a threat looming overseas.

            Kate knew that he was taking business matters very seriously, so she stepped in to try and right the course of the meeting. “Alice, we were hoping to make an alliance with the Forty Elephants. As I said in the telegram I sent, I think it might be beneficial to both of us.”

            Alice looked bored as she pretended to examine the diamond on her finger. “I don’t see how that’s beneficial to me. I don’t need a group of men telling me what to do.” Her eyes flicked up to Tommy.

            “We’re not looking to overtake your territory.” Kate prefaced.

            “That’s what they all say.” Maggie piped up. “Tommy Shelby isn’t any different, is he?” She spoke as if he weren’t even in the room. “A man who thinks because we’re women we’re looking for protection. Then when we’ve begun to trust him, he’ll step in and take everything we’ve worked for.”

            “I don’t need control over a few blocks in London,” Tommy replied.

            Alice let out a fake laugh. “Few blocks? And what do you have? A shit hole of a city to call your kingdom? We live among high society, Mr. Shelby. You live among drunks and thieves.”

            “They’re loyal. High society isn’t loyal.” He kept in stride with the two women, not missing a beat. “If you don’t come from old money, they don’t care about you. Your high society sees you as funny little things. Isn’t it cute that a poor girl born out of wedlock can dress up like us?” Then his gaze turned to Maggie. “They love criminal families too. Think they’re fun. They love rubbing elbows with a girl from a long line of trouble-makers.”

            Kate was wary, hoping that Tommy’s analysis wouldn’t cause a rift. But Alice and Maggie didn’t seem to flinch.

            “Is that your plan then? You want to fill London with low-lifes like you? Drive out the gentry?”

            “You hate them as much as I do. But you love to play their games and make them lose.” Tommy shrugged. “If you didn’t, you’d go back to living a poor life.”

            A small smile formed on Alice’s painted lips. “I assume you’re looking for a cut in exchange your men help us maintain order.”

            “We can offer more.” Kate stepped in again, a bit surprised that Tommy’s strategy was working so well. “I’m sure you know we’re helping Alfie with smuggling. We could help you as well. Goods you need brought in or out of the country, we’ll take care of it for a small cut.”

            “I have a network created for that,” Alice replied.

            “And we can work with that. But we can take it further. France, Italy, overseas, wherever you need.”

            Alice sat back in her chair as she contemplated the deal. “I suppose we could make this work. I’ll need to have a contract drawn up though, and we can review it on a later date.”

            “That sounds great.” Kate perked up. “I’m so glad we could come to some sort of an agreement.”

            Alice stood up and folded her coat over her arm. “I can see why Alfie likes you two so much.” She noted before heading toward the door.

            Maggie gave them both a nod before following her out.

            When they left, Kate looked at Tommy with disbelief. “You really went out on a limb talking to them like that.” She said with a sigh of relief.

            “No.” He shook his head. “That was planned.”

            “Pardon?”

            “They’re afraid of a larger gang trying to take them over because they’re women. So I talked to them, not like women but like gang leaders. It’s mutual respect.” He explained as if he were explaining his moves on a chessboard.

            Kate shook her head. “I’ll never know what truly goes on in that big head of yours.” She kissed his forehead as she stood up. “I’ll start drawing up a contract.”

              Later that day, Tommy and Kate drove back to Warwickshire to spend the weekend at Arrow House. He was hoping to have some time to relax with her. After securing a deal with Alice, he felt a little more at ease. Of course, there were many things still weighing on his mind that were very serious, but he could put them to rest for a couple of days. Besides, with an alliance with the Forty Elephants, he now had more people with eyes and ears open to news coming in and out of London. They were closer to Sabini’s territory so naturally, they would hear things before it got to him.

 ~~~~~~~~~

            After taking a long ride out in the sprawling countryside, Tommy returned back to the house as the sun was setting. He searched the first floor for Kate until he heard some music playing upstairs. He followed the jazz music to the bedroom they now shared with each other. Two doors down from the master bedroom that had been closed off from anyone but Tommy, permanently encasing Grace’s memory.

            With the music playing, Kate didn’t hear Tommy come in. Her back was turned to the door as she folded some of her clothes to put away.

            She startled when she felt his hands on her hips. Jerking back, she turned to see who grabbed her, ready to disarm them. “God, Thomas, you can’t sneak up on me like that.” She scolded.

            He chuckled and held his hands up. “Sorry.”

            “It’s not funny.” She muttered and returned to putting her clothes away.

            He frowned, unsure of why she was being so sensitive. Then he remembered the moment on the ship. When she reacted so instinctually to him touching her. “Kate, you know I would never hurt you.”

            “I know that, don’t you think I know that?” She snapped. But of course, she wasn’t angry with him. She was angry with herself for feeling like she couldn’t control her reaction. How she couldn’t lay down her defenses and understand that he wasn’t trying to harm her like Santo did.

            He was quiet for a moment, trying to judge the next best approach. “If you want me to leave you be, I will. But I think maybe you might feel better if you talk about it.”

            Kate swallowed and stared at the dresser in front of her. “I want to be happy with you, I really do. I want to be with you an-and have a family but I just…” She shook her head. “I don’t know how to forget.”

            It was difficult. Tommy wanted to hold her close to comfort her but didn’t want to further upset her. “If it takes time, it takes time. I can be patient.”

            She noticed when he took a step back from her. It sent her into a panic and she turned around to grab his arm. “Please don’t distance yourself from me.” She begged. “I can’t stand it. I-I know I’m pushing you away but I can’t lose you again.”

            He could see the distraught look in her blue eyes. The conflict she was struggling with was clear. She wanted so desperately to be in love with him, to have the relationship they’d both wanted for years. But she couldn’t shake the past. He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Can I show you something?”

            She nodded and let him lead her out of the room and down the hall. He went to the door that was next to the master bedroom. It was unlocked, unlike Grace’s room. He allowed Kate inside and she found herself in a half-finished nursery. There was a bare crib, a changing table, and a rocking chair all collecting dust.

            “I started putting this together,” Tommy explained. “When Grace found out, she told me she wasn’t pregnant. We fought about it but I realized it wasn’t the end. We could figure it out and have children eventually. It’s how I convinced myself everything would be alright. That I could live with the lies.” He paused realizing how difficult it still was to talk about. “When she died, I couldn’t touch it. Couldn’t take the cot out or whatever.” He ran a hand through his hair, finding it hard to even look at the furniture. “I just thought…it’s supposed to be here and things will work out.”   

            Kate carefully touched the edge of the crib. “With me?” She wondered.

            He nodded. “The amount of guilt I felt, I can’t even tell you, Kate. For marrying her and-”

            “Don’t.” She returned to him in the doorway. “Don’t apologize for marrying her. I know you loved her and I’m okay with that. We’ve both been holding a lot of guilt for a long time. Maybe, to move forward we need to just let it go. Absolve ourselves.”

            “Okay.” He agreed. Both of them knew it wouldn’t be some easy task of letting go of years of guilt and burden. But it was a start to at least try.

            Kate wrapped her arms around him and kissed him slowly. That’s how they would need to take things regarding their personal lives, slowly. Everything else was at such a fast pace. Business decisions needed to be made rapidly, they needed to always be on top of things, always two steps ahead of their opponents. But behind closed doors, just between them, they could be cautious and gentle.

            They parted and Tommy kissed her forehead affectionately.

            She allowed him to hold her close in his arms, reminding herself that it was okay. “I’ll admit I don’t know how great of a mother I’ll be. I mean, I never expected to ever find someone, never mind falling in love with them.”

            “I think you’d be surprised.” He chuckled, grateful for something to lighten the mood. “You never cease to amaze me.”

            Kate smiled and rested her cheek against his shoulder. The music she’d left on drifted from down the hall. Before long, she realized they were swaying back and forth with each other. “I guess we’ll see.”

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @giftofdreams @biba3434 @kimmietea @karmezii @enrapturedbythemoon @vampgirl1997 @tarafaithe @evelynshelby

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Masterpost 

PB Masterlist

[in-tua-deep]

Hufflepuff Five! He has traits that would help him fit in any of the houses, but underneath, everything he does is motivated by his love for his siblings so Hufflepuff would be the best fit. Also, just the idea of the house full of sweethearts dealing with Five the undercover sweetheart is funny and adorable. In this au would Delores be a fellow Hufflepuff that Five bonds with or would she be a ghost or a painting?

Hufflepuff Five is a valid child, bless. Me? Purposefully sorting the Hargreeves so that there’s two to every house except Five who is alone? It’s probably about as likely as you think actually but in hindsight it’s a cool move

Five isn’t sure what to make of Hufflepuff at first, admittedly. Someone told Five that Hufflepuff is for “everyone else” and is a catch all house for rejects from the others, so he’s not exactly thrilled about it. Especially because he’d rather be in a house with his siblings 

(Ravenclaw definitely because he loves Ben and Vanya best, but he’d grudgingly accept Slytherin - maybe not Gryffindor though because quite frankly he doesn’t want to get between Luther and Diego butting heads ugh)

Five is sorted last of the siblings because his name is listed as ‘5 Hargreeves’ and they weren’t sure whether they should put numbers before or after letters and they ended up putting it after so Five got sorted last. 

But his new housemates are surprisingly fierce. They tell him that they’re not the catch all house, and even if they were all that means is that one of their ideals is acceptance and no one gets left behind. 

(Five refused to leave any of his siblings behind, not even Luther who he thinks is an idiot every day ending in a y. So he understand that ideal on a personal level.)

They tell him that Hufflepuff means loyalty and hard work. It means forming ranks and protecting one another, of standing firm and tall and strong. Bending, but never breaking. Hufflepuffs are unassuming, everyone discounts them, but it was a Hufflepuff who was chosen to represent the entire school during the triwizard tournaments.

(They whisper Cedric’s name with reverence, with mourning, but also with pride. He wasn’t the Chosen One, he was just an ordinary boy and he was still chosen and performed admirably, with noble intentions and kindness. He was a Hufflepuff.)

So the older years look at the boy with a number for a name who is wary of everyone and protective of his siblings and they soften. Strangely enough, the child abuse cases usually end up in Slytherin with far more frequency that then other houses (there is something to be said, for cunning and resourcefulness sitting in the hearts of eleven-year-olds) but Hufflepuff has had their share.

So when they catch Five sneaking out in the middle of the night, the prefects show him the secret passageways and the quickest routes to the other common rooms and look the other way. When they notice Five stealing away food in napkins in the great hall, they take all the little firsties on a field trip to the kitchens and show them how to tickle the pear.

(When Five approaches a seventh year with hands clenched into firsts and asks how to cast silencing charms around his bed, the seventh year takes him to the library and presses books about wards into his hands. If the pages with wards to chase away bad dream is bookmarked well, it came like that.)

(Five spends the next week sneaking into the Slytherin dorms and carving runes into Klaus’s bedposts. He only does his own as an afterthought, honest.)

Five pretends he doesn’t really care for his housemates, except they keep sneaking under his skin. The magicborn ones have nightmares, too. They lived through a war. Some of them tell Five they’re orphans, but he learns later that their parents are in wizarding prison for following a genocidal maniac. Five ends up carving good dream runes on almost every bed in the dorm.

They teach him how to play exploding snap and gobstones. They beg him for help in charms and ask him to read over their transfiguration essays. They show him all the good passageways. They drag him along behind them when a handful of them want to go investigate the Forbidden Forest because Five is the best at defense spells! Please! They’d be so much safer with Five there.

Abby keeps snacks in her pockets and is always offering some to Five, who takes them because his ability to jump tends to jumpstart his metabolism and takes a lot of energy. James helps Five with wand movements and sends for books from his family’s personal library when Five can’t find what he needs.

Jasmine is a fifth year who ruffles his hair and picks him up and spins him around, but she always telegraphs her intentions and gives him the option to back up and duck out. Hamish is a seventh year who fusses over all the first years and walks them through difficult homework assignments in his spare time. Rowan teaches him all the fun jinxes which aren’t actually in the curriculum but they insist are extremely important for every little witch and wizard to learn. 

No one minds when Five ditches them at meals and muscles his way into the Slytherin table to pile more food on Klaus’s plate and trade barbs with the Slytherins (who are all secretly fond of the Very Slytherin Hufflepuff). No one minds when Five steals Ben and Vanya from the Ravenclaw table and drags them to eat with him so they can regale him with the riddles they’ve answered and slip Five books they they stole from their common room 

(not that Five couldn’t get into the Ravenclaw common room. he can and will get into every house common room. It drives all the other house prefects and house pride kids insane. No one can figure out how he keeps popping up and bypassing the security. The other Hargreeves children roll their eyes but keep their lips zipped as well.

The other houses have approached Hufflepuff to beg them to put a leash on Five, but they close ranks and smile and tell them that if they can’t keep a first year from their common rooms, then it’s really their problem, isn’t it?)

sometimes Five mentions something offhand that he thought was normal but then the others just look like someone hit the ‘pause’ button for a few seconds as they process before giving Five a look which screams on god i will escort you to a psychologist myself

One of the seventh year prefects corners Five early on and asks him if he’s safe at home and basically offers to smuggle him out of Hogwarts come break if necessary. Five, who assumed it was common knowledge, is just kind of like “oh we lived with McGonagall for most of the summer. I dunno where we’re going next summer, but we’re staying at Hogwarts for winter break and stuff, so. yeah.”

and that prefect breathes a sigh of relief and passes on to the other prefects (in Hufflepuff and out of it) that the Hargreeves kids are Not In Custody Of Their Shitty Abusive Father

James: wow muggles sure have to get creative to abuse their kids huh

Five: i think dad was just. a special case. most parents can’t just toss their kids off a roof and expect no repercussions.

Abby: oh hey you could bond with Mr. Longbottom - the guy who’s training under Professor Sprout and is always around the greenhouse? I think his family tossed him out a window.

honestly the ONLY reason Five and the squad were probably taken away wasn’t even the Rampant Abuse because let’s be real Neville and Harry were never looked into. The reason was that Reginald was planning to ‘expose’ the magical community through the kids ‘powers’ and they couldn’t have that, especially not by a muggle goodness gracious. 

(Honestly, there’s a high likelihood that Reginald/Pogo/even Grace if that’s possible were probably obliviated - with contact with government people in the know to fix records etc. - and the knowledge of the magical community and the kids was straight up erased. After all, if Reginald was planning to expose ‘magic’ then he can’t be trusted with any knowledge even related to it)

as for Dolores

Five is thirteen and he learns about the chamber of secrets and all that and everyone is like “yeah only a parselmouth can get in there” and Five is like “haha you thought” because he can jump regardless of apparation wards so he trots on over to the girls bathroom, inspects the sink for a while, and then jumps

which was probably a mistake because he jumps into the empty space underneath yeah but it’s a dramatic slide down fuCK and he just pinwheels down and ends up in the chamber of secrets. Nice.

and so he does what everyone in the books didn’t seem to do - he explores. And look, Slytherin clearly spent a good amount of time down there, he probably left a bunch of stuff. It’s probably booby trapped, but Five has a passion for wards after the bad dream ones and he’s a malicious little shit so he also loves booby traps so. 

Slytherin would probably roll in his grave to know that a thirteen-year-old goes down to the Chamber of Secrets to systematically dismantle all the fun curses and traps just to pass the time. 

And within one of the booby trapped rooms is a painting, and within this painting is a teenage girl with close cropped hair and a raised eyebrow. She’s older than Five (for now) and she asks him what he’s doing here.

“Exploring,” Five says, with a shrug, rifling through some of the pieces of parchment still on the desk. “What about you?”

“What do you mean?” The girl asks, looking confused. 

“What are you doing down here?” Five clarifies, poking at a suspicious looking jar with his wand. 

“I’m a painting.” The girl says, crossing her arms, “Someone put me down here.”

“Who?”

“None of your business!”

Five shrugs, “Okay. Do you have a name, then?”

“Dolores.” Dolores says, not offering a last name. “You?”

“Five.” He shrugs through her incredulous look, “Yeah, like the number. Do you know what’s in this jar?”

It turns out she does. In fact, she knows an awful lot about pretty much everything down in the chamber, though she refuses to give him hints when it comes to what curses and wards and traps there are. She laughs at him when his attempts blow up in his face and ruins his umpteenth uniform for the year

(“Honestly Mr. Hargreeves.” Professor McGonagall says severely when he shows up with burned holes in his robes and a mildly sheepish expression. “This is the fourth time this week.”

“I can’t seem to get a hang of this spell.” Five says, mild as milk even though they’re both fully aware that he’s lying. 

McGonagall just fixes his robes and tells him to ask a seventh year to help or something with his ‘spell difficulty’ and Five thanks her brightly and flounces off to go directly back to the chamber and do some more wardbreaking while Dolores critiques everything he does)

“Did you know Salazar Slytherin?” Five asks her, frowning down at the book on ancient runes. 

Dolores sniffs, “I don’t want to talk about Sally. He wasn’t even that impressive.”

Five pauses in his writing for a second, “I am calling him Sally every day for the rest of my life and especially when I sit at the Slytherin table holy fuck.”

“He sucked at arithmancy.” Dolores offers with a shrug, “And his charm work was mediocre.”

“And yours was better?” Five asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Please,” Dolores scoffs, “I could cast circles around him.”

“Teach me?” Five asks, because he’s never been one to discard any leg up or resource.

“I’m just a painting.” Dolores says, frowning. “I can’t actually cast spells.”

“You don’t have to. Just explain them.”

“Oh,” Dolores bites her lip, “Oh. I don’t think anyone’s really cared about what paintings know before.”

“That’s fine. I’ll be the first.”

“Just for that I’m teaching you the shitty ones first.” Dolores tells him.

Five doesn’t tell anyone about her. He doesn’t tell anyone at all about the chamber, though he initially wanted to go down there to set up a spot for him and his siblings to gather. But it ends up being a place he can just go and escape to be by himself - because not many people know how to get down there.

“You know I’m not real.” Dolores tells him one day, when he’s trying to tackle the curses on one of the hidden rooms. 

Five shrugs, “You seem pretty real to me.”

“I’m just a painting. An imprint of someone who died years and years ago tied to paint. I’m - ”

“Two dimensional?” Five asks with a grin, and she swears at him colorfully for his cheek. “Look, Dolores. I never knew whatever version of you walked among us mere mortals - though I’m sure she was appropriately terrifying - so I don’t care about that person. I know you, as you are. I don’t care if you aren’t ‘real’ or whatever. Does it matter? I like talking to you.”

Dolores is silent for a long while after that. Five turns his attention to his notes while she thinks - sometimes she needs a moment to process. 

“Hey Five?” She asks, only continuing when she hears him hum. “Can you figure out how to destroy a magical painting?”

He looks up at her, a question in his eyes.

“I spent - I was down here for a really long time, Five. Alone. You’re going to leave Hogwarts one day, and you’re going to get all old and gross and wrinkly and then you’re going to die. But I won’t, because I’m not alive. I just want - ” Dolores trails off, looking frustrated. “I just want to know if it’s something even possible.”

Five considers this, and then he shrugs. “Yeah, okay.”

“Just like that?” Dolores sounds shocked, but Five just nods. 

“Yeah. It’s your immortal not-life, I figure you should get a say in it, right?”

Dolores is quiet after that, but when Five goes to leave, he hears he whisper a quiet thank you. Five only offers her a smile as he mentally carves out time to raid the library and maybe the Ravenclaw common room for information. 

I think Five keeps her company until she’s ready to let go (unlike the actual show where he lets her go). I dunno it’s just a really sad and poignant side story in Five’s life about letting go and mortality and agency and choice and what it means to be a person and how to live and how to die

Five and Dolores’s relationship is really complicated in the show so I wanted it to ALSO be really complicated in the wizarding world oof so yeah there you have it in this particular hp au Dolores is a painting in the Chamber of Secrets of a teenage girl who is just a little too smart and just a little too sentient and just a little too lonely

[smallgayblanket]

New/revised/whatever- List of stuff

Egos (Marks/Jacks) that I have written for or at least actually have thought about HCS/other universes for:  (Just some brief rambles about them, please don't hesitate to ask about them :3)

  -Anti,   Two takes really, I like him soft, like him mean, hes just fun to write, plenty of different ways to spin why he acts out, what he is and all that. My current fav way to portray him is a missing piece of Seans soul, which means hes unstable as a ‘person’ (cough, not really a human but not, not human either.)  And how he has static filled blue eyes but usually hides them with the scary emerald green...

-Jameson,  I will always stand by this kinda universe i created with a friend aages ao that Shawn took away Jamesons voice when being puppeteered by an awful ink creature that shares his body.  Giving Jameson a lovely fear of knives, some scars, and some very damaged vocals..

-Crank, Oh my fucking boi, a near dead human spliced with a bunch of robot parts..human skin tangled with wires and a heart incased in metal..hes a right mess, a voice in his head that makes him feel all sorts of bad.. He tries his best..he cries oil,  I hardly get to write  him but I love him.

-Blank, another big fav oi, black hollow eyes..a tendency to faint... My Hc involves him having been in an accident that almost killed him, leaving him with a very rare heart condition. He also has an aura which..kinda ties into him having a few abilities and stuff. 

-Nes.. He started off as my own kinda Ethan ego, basically Ethan who was mistreated and really lost his marbles..hes great for the real twisted messed up kinda stuff, so dependant on others, a minor murderer, and has been eyed off by a certain ice cream driver for quite some time...

-Were eth,  Okay granted this was literally just kinda an idea that..Eth became a were wolf boi, fangs, tail, ears. Hes just a fun lil pupper

-Eden. Succubus Ethan basically, but well, he again kinda turned into his own thing separate from Ethan. He's got a tail and wings, and hes a lovely lithe thing. He doesnt dare do things without consent, just gets a bit touchy-feely when hes gone without any energy for too long. Very wide stunning saphire eyes. 

- Jackie  Oh my lad..Buff, trans, adorable, sweet. I always love tinkering around with how/what powers he has tbh..and like- I’ve always had the hc that his eyes are lilac?? or gold. Depending on things.. and he works either at a comic book store, a gym, or at the counter of a gas station. Gives the best hugs. Also I love AUS where hes a phoniex because of uhm?? Big fucking red wings??? YES.

-Hen, Getting his accent right is tough but other than that I love writing about the tired doctor living off coffee and ignoring himself in favor of others. 

-Chase The fucking best dad, sunshine lad. Running a vlogging channel and doing his best while combatting depression..I hc him to have chronic fatigue so he has to push himself extra hard. but He does well in trying to get better and look after himself and only slips up like any other helpless human. Very fun to write. 

- Robbie.   Sof.t zombie lad. Drown in a sweater. Stutters and is v quiet. Slow with speech. Struggles to see sometimes. Loves soft textures.Loves attention. Overall soft fucking lad.

-KOTS, To mean known as Simon. Actually v smart, big brain, very scattered n shy and nervous and squirrelish. Loves books n plants, loves nature. Red is his best colour. Warm sweaters and nuzzling and cuddling up. I always get torn between him being a hybrid of human/squirrel or just a lovely soft guy. 

-Yan ! My fem nb/trans gal! They’ll kick ass with their katana, have the hots for Bim, and looove Japanese culture and stuff. Very adorable. Loves pink. 10/10 love to write. 

-Technically I do have a muse for Mark, or..idea? I’m thinking about shoving it into my own oc/thing..but basically he got tortured n abused by Authy so hes not quite like the real life markimoo..just a nervous mess whose dealing with his traumas..

-Bing, Skater lad, yellow/orange eyes, sunflower vibes. Tries his best, clumsy as fuck, great for a laugh when hes not cowering under google. 

-Edward iplier,  Gah my doctor lad.. I have a hc that he Lost arm. In fire..or by dark n wilf.  He has heterochromia too!! One cho ceye one blue one. He is a fucking nerd (Minor adhd lets be honest) He fucking loves space and science and space/science related lights. He has a bat plus with spacey wings. He likes reading, likes being clean and is quite a quiet indulger in food which has left him with a big of a softer figure. Super gentle nature..nothing like the arrogant portrayal we got in some videos. 

-Angus   I love this man!!! Part Aussie, part irish, a whole lot of gruff old dad with a soft spot for nice people and animals, has his own big place, next to a large ass forest. Loads of scars. Loves boots and cameo coloured clothing. A lovely guy when you get past the rough edges. 

Aand onto all my ocs as of writing this (cause you name well know I be writing new ones like..all the time.) 

--------------------

OC’S (My original characters!)

-Jessy, Cowboy-   Choker with gold bell. Lil ears/horns. Spots. Shy but sweet. Hands and feet different colour to rest of skin. Kinda  fur ish feeling rather then just straight-up skin.  Pear shaped figure. Shy lad. Likes to take lots of naps, anxious easily but a big people pleaser too. 

-Ailan and Keros. Moth n butterfly boi.  (Literally just made up with a friend, just a random soft pair of lads tbh nothing too fleshed or spesh)

- Louie - Followed by a dark being/creature/spirit... Yet to determine what else about him, but hes got brown hair, pointed ears and looks lovely in green.

-Quinton  A Hybrid of Demon and Angel otherwise called a Guardian. Quirky, Pan as shit, great dress sense. Extremely calm. Can see auras. Lovely black feathered wings. Bright blue hair.  Kind smile. Works at a little coffee shop in his spare time.

-Ori  Very pure angel boy, previously owned and not very well treated by a god, came crashing down to earth with no memories but his wings intact. Some help him. 

-Lumi  Ghost boy! Died years ago under awful circumstances..now lingers around on earth, sometimes meeting humans who happen to be able to feel or see his presence, he has the ability to make himself solid for short periods of time. 

- Lucio Witchy..dragon soul something or other- Deaf.Paralyzed? In the arms??They might use alot of energy trying to hover around instead of having to use a chair..(I mean how many witches do you see with chairs??).. Although they could not have use of their arms instead, like..paralyzed from the shoulder down- they still have them but theyre effectively useless and easily sore.. (which might make magic really hard, cause theyd have to master it again without their hand gestures.)

- Eztli, Bit of a prick. Basically got cursed to have really weird blood that replished and rejuvinated too fast/too much by a witch he angered. So he turned the curse into a good thing and basically goes out offering himself as a human blood bag for vamps willing to pay in info, items, cash or uh..other services..  

- Gallio Photographer, has hypocalcemia. Haven't really done much else with him tbh.

-Aomi Warlock/witch in training. Downright awful at it. Young and lives in a nice lil cottage outside of the village he was abandoned in.

- Lucas A moonstone gem perma-fusion, he kinda has SPD/DID but he doesn't, cause..hes two gems that became one but not fully. Leaving him to be a bit of a mess and not as strong as other moonstones. 

- Kiyan. A little assistant android!! Created to assist, he can make portals!, He works at a post office. Hes under surveillance by the company that made him and isnt yet aware of many human customs/emotions.. 

- Alex  A very confused, overly optimist Alien who doesn’t know what they are. Come from the planet Eutychia, 4'3. They fucking glow. You know  Kilowatt from space chimps? think that. But hair n freckles and more human and just as  bubbly and energetic. 

-Locus  Mer/Fish boi!  Transparent fins, glowy patches, plays harp + loves music.

-Lir  A Tiny Octopus/Human hybrid lad. Makes little burble and trill noises. Quite harmless. Needs a home. 

Benji (Strawberry shortcake boi- Cursed tape /bandages. Demi half god.? One eye. Uses notes. To communicate but also sign. Really. Good sweets maker)

 Small bois (A collection of tinys because G/T is fucking great okay?)

- Tobias. Literally Made of hair gel. cleary, adorable, aaand Eats soap..amoung other non food items he probably should not ingest but does..

- Hinto  Guy made of foam slime. Very chill n laid back.

- Glowstick bubs. (Alo/aloke -  Green and blue  +  Siro - Yellow n pink.  + Mavi (Vi) Red and silver. + Roxy (Ro) - Orange and  purple )  They’re a cross between glowsticks and lava lamps and its epic- asides the fact they have like.half a brain cell each. Lots of sleeping n lazign around.

- Theo  A tiny ink creature.  A clever little lad, who likes to drawn and write n paint in ink and leave cheeky little black splotches everywhere. A very good writer companion tho. 

- JellyBubs! A collection of tiny sentient jelly babies, hungry lads will raid your cupboards. 

-Miel A tiny little bee boy! Loves flowers <3 

Apocolyse Squad:

The planet Keres,  Left uninhabitable after the invasion that ruined the air and killed almost the entire race.

Sameal o’Ceirin (Being of smoke- partly blind.)

Mallory Thomas (Part cat. Vet, partner to Sam who ends up dying in the canon of their story)

Hamrish Benat  (Hayden. 4 eyes, soft tongue. PTSD. extra tiny heart in wrist. Quite fem/soft. Likes soap cutting vids and stuffed toys/teddies.)

Joshua who cares (An asshole. Staight up. He dies. Fuck him. He sucks ass.)

Andy peters (Strong, kind. Kinda like Tyler shied. Big, tol, but actually pretty soft.)

Adrian  Géarán  (Tail, fire abilities, likes to make little robots. Very weak n has a couple of disabilities that leave him tired n such, which aint great for his esteem or his team when the apoc hits.)

--

Wyatt ???? ?????????????????

Pace- Nerdy. Finds a cat. Observer for the aliens. Is immune to black goop. 

Four - buff. Scary. Deadly. 

Apocolypse Squad Part 2  Small lads who dont derese to be in danger: 

  -Apep, Naga boi  Legs mutate into a cool tail. Hisses, fangs. Adorable loves the sun. bout 20 years old. 

Chris. Camp leader! Biig dad type, redhead, buff, likes gardening and camping, very outdoorsy. Little awkward but great.

Small child Talise- nickname tails? ..   Blind and slightly traumatized by the car crash that killed his mother and ended up with glass in his eyes, very sensitive to noise n textures.     Ends up mutating tails.  6 v young n smol  blocks n colourin

Shirin Parvis. Crystal boi .. trained solider/ royalty.  Tried to warn people before the apoc hit and failed. Now tries to protect the small group of surviors he stumpbles across. 

 Zephaniah, mutation turns him into a  Chameleon basically, just.. a human one. He  Prefers Zeph. Big gamey Nerd-  gets a pet gecko.  16. Quiet. Loves Lazar skirmish and lazers. 

Moyachi, Cactus boi!! Plant bab. Loves water and has clear/lime green tinted aloe/herbal helpful blood. Spikes up at defense from bad people 18/ 19   likes drawing. Pretty grumpy and needs a break.

Colin, nicknames: Coco,  Lady bug lad, who is baby trans  mutation resulted in a weird Red/Orange skin condition basically.  Can predict weather v accurately.       Ballet/dance, 14   Likes cooking. 

Hotaru , Firefly bby  - Glowy bub with antenna,  possibly mutates wings.. Sassy and tired. Turns nocturnal as the apoc progressed. Also becomes Colins first love <3

Zeno  A Siren of sorts.  DC/ hip hopper/   Lost his arm in apoc.  He loooves music alot. Very purple aesthetic and checkerboards.

Liren Pichi, deaf peaches n cream aesthetic boi- Nickname Pichi.  He is alone during the apoc, sneaks aboard and ship and goes missing..

Neighbours AU:

They all live on the homeworld, Ermioni.

Lesbabs:

Blake Aglaia  A human with a gift of being able to put emotions into glass balls.. Red head, quite fem, but gay, sweet, but not mousy. 

Lynx ?? An alien and human, the alien somewhat resides inside its host but they coexist. Sometimes goes feral.  Alien half likes to go by Perse  (Percy)  They have cool looking saliva- viens that run down their arms that are pretty cool- sharper nails/claws. Tendrils. Large ol mouth. Lots of pointy ass teef. Lynx likes to train,go to gym, and kick ass. Big ass butch energy.

Demon fam:

Hyacinth  A six-armed demon with serious parent energy. Big gardener, his body grows flowers depending on his moods/strength of emotions. Purple neck length hair. Great at comfort and cooking. 

Rhys  A Demon with a great curiosity about humans has a sibling, Feri.  Rhys is a big nerd, but very hard to get to know. Not great with emotions, comes across a tad distant and cold without always meaning too. Loves candles and lots of autumn aesthetic. 

Anthos, AKa Ant. Rhys and Hy’s accidentally created/summoned a toddler.. and hes fucking adorable. 

Vato - V   Hy has another bub later on who's more purpley blue with red curled horns and 4 arms.. No tail.. 4 eyes. V cute and inquisitive. Less noisy and wreckless than Ant. 

Roommates:

Douglas Connelly  A regular chubby human bean! Learning to become a chef. He loves food, loves cooking and also loves dancing. Hes a big guy, big cudddler, but a little shy and akward at times. 

Donovan Amores  Real fricking cool and smokin hot Bartender with a love for dogs. Dougs roommate. Has glowing fuckin orbs- donates his heart to a fucking god is smooth as fuck, background heavily Spanish, moved when young.

Haris Alaksim Real name (lost in translation, Huitzilopochtli God of sun and war) ) - A god whom Dono is very close with and donates his heart two one every 3 years during the day of the highest sun. He is a god / Mouros.    Donovan refers to him as “Dios gentil”  or “ Viejo colibrí sabio”   (“El viejo colibrí sabio es un dios gentil” (The old wise hummingbird is a gentle god.)

Donovans Family

Rem (Looks after magical creatures- Cane is from Haris)

Oscar  (Not sure what trinket or power but He’s just a casual store worker w/ good arms. Surprisingly good with knives- perhaps has one from Haris?)

Nicole  (His only sister Makes clothes..possibly got some ability to do with seasons..?  Perhaps earrings or a bracelet from Haris)

Javi  (Makes jam, cute boy, wears cloaks. Maybe has a cute little jar necklace or magic jar??)

Luca (Trans bookkeeper- Talks to Haris most often and likes to ask questions..Has precious books...Possibly a special pen..) 

Forest bois!!

Cypress The soul of the forest - Mentor of Rem. Very calm, very wise. Kinda like master oogway type. 

Unicorn boi, Hes rare, missing a chunk of his horn. Dont hurt him. He doesnt even have a name.

Fyn. Mushroom boy. Protects a gate. Lost his twin during a human-caused fire. Very mad about it. 

Fie. Bat boy. Loves fruit. 

Moh. Fairy/incubus hybrid.  

Tucker. Bunny boi, Best friends with Ainsley. Got some like, punk vibes about him, piercings n such. Not as soft as one would expect but still nice at heart.

Ainsley. Fawn boi, clums, shy, round glasses,  Looks smart but doesn't always know stuff. Very unsure of self. 

Experiment AU: 

Izekiel Iris A being of Paint. Hes made of paint. He has trauma from being experimented on. Slightly depressed. Loves art, loved creating. also regresses to try to deal with said PTSD.  Hard to get to know at first. 

Matty  (Matthew Libelle)   An experiment, part human, part lizard, part dragon. Much smol.  Hes fucking baby and i adore him alot please do ask anything and everything about him. 

Cult bois:

-Nero Aakil   (Means Genius/Orange blossom)   Orange bub  - Leader. Smart. Telepathic link with all cult members.  V corrupted…  (Parents were rich and ignorant)

-Mao Cerise   Pink - Ditzy, Looks after their ‘little bird’ (aka Jey) 

-Jey Michael Cherubim   Fallen angel -  Corrupted..desaturating and weak.. Was summoned by the cult and captured as a trophy. 

-Jaden Hirav  Looks after a garden of plants both harmless and some not for master. Previously Neros old pet..His  The family was alright but he was moreso raised by like his mum and bro. He was kidnapped from his garden and never seen again. The cult ritual to initiate him into the group failed and he was spliced with plants making him near useless to the cult.

-Rowan maverick - Now known as  Rogue- Red. Lost their tongue. Does Not follow orders to the T but gets their job done.   Has another voice/god/soul looking out for them… Very assassin ready, very perceptive. Wants to get out the cult but knows theyre too far in.. Cool glowy words in the air because they don't have their tongue. Possibly only lives of medication and vitamin pills..possible OD? Possible addiction. They struggle alot with it. 

P - Pax -  God who watches over Rowan. Was killed by the Master but their spirt lives on.

Cato.   Purple - Another smart one.. Possible Wiccan?  Sadist. Mean. Tall.  Scary. Abuse. Twisted. Loves being in the cult. Eventually wants to host Masters soul.. 

Gin Short for Ginger but the real name is Xanthe.  Blind. Also another assassin like Rogue but more obedient.  Doesn't talk often out of fear. 

Benjamin Brandy  (Benji. B) is Gins friend, Gin is trying not to get him involved in the cult but was too late as B had previously already been cursed and dealt with mythical beings..

 Silver bub. Demir. A demon summoned by the cult to complete the collection. Wants out, very stressed.  

Adopted AU: (This is like a mess of some of the boys but younger and in a different timeline to their universes smushed together intoa kinda cute school/adoption au idea.)

Matthew is smol autistic, malnourished and heavily abused both mentally and physically, leading to selective mutism and being a small fragile easily tired bab.  He loves hanging in the library once he gets used to going to some schooling. Gets tutored by Chris? Goes to camp and helps around n has fun..

Jaden, loves the school garden, and likes science class. His family is alright, However he ends up mostly raised by his sister? Or brother? 

Iz is the lil art bab, also in foster care of a big family, not so much abused but semi neglected. Quiet.

Nero is the gifted nerdy child..Parents ignorant. They love history and fictional books and reading and learning.

Benji is the slightly older kid whos possibly maybe a little behind or delayed or..something, they help out with other kids as a buddy? They like to do cooking classes.

DA AU

So this Au was like..the Septic tank births all the egos.

Angus first- He has..some kinda strength I imagine/..

Then Anti, Hen, Jackie. Marv. 

Chase -  He kills himself because of Glitch- also falls in the tank a second time and ends up with odd powers. 

Glitch Starts off as very bad and misunderstood. Turns out they were just highly unstable and required medical treatment.  Their real name is Arius and they cant stomach solid foods all the time. Mostly a liquid diet. They have glitchy fits/static seizures. Very unpleasant. Can enter tech, and its not so great, can get trapped. Can absorb certain amounts of electricity because of this they Got hit by  ightning once and has epic lighting scars!! Up arms..some on neck. All over his chest and back. 

Septic clone AU

Sean giving up bits of soul to make clones ends up in coma

Experiments and torture and odd shit with the egos ensues??

Minecraft AU??  

Yeah i had weird ideas for a cute minecraft gang of minecrafters who had accidents involving getting merged/recded with other creatures traits ect. 

Vail.  -Vex / Human

Snow golom hybrid? Or Blaze?

Slimey boi

Kitsune

Panda lad.

Pokebabs au

Mainly for Matty, Iz and Blank.. were they have pokemon forms and when bonded with a human long enough can evolved into human forms?? 

Horned AU  (With Troiseh/Glitch-in-the-static)

Shiro  -Prince lad  (This is their lad :3)

Junji - Battery..whump/slave/lost prince 

Isao Asuka -  Shiros Royal Guard 

Alien AU

Hami if he were..alien instead of being a human in an apoc basically. 

Angel AU stuff: 

Good omens inspired boi

Leo Halvar   Part..humany..demon..Cambion are according to google "In late European mythology and literature, a cambion is the offspring of an incubus, succubus, or another demon with a human, or of an incubus and succubus"

Ryan  Hot archangel guy: One wing, demon hunter thing.. Good kinda reforming from a less nice lifestyle previously. 

Mute angel possibly demon idk- -   Latif? Emmet? Evan? 

Long fringe shy boy-  Cael / Lox

[alindakb]

Letters to my Parents - Friday 30 December 1994 - by Alinda

Friday 30 December 1994

Dear mom and dad,

I need to tell you all about the night after the first task. My arm healed pretty quick and by the time I went to bed that night, it was fine. I was glad Draco was able to write to you to tell you I was fine. He also wrote a letter to Sirius for me, just to make sure he wouldn’t show up at the school the next day to make sure I was still alive. He wrote back to tell me he was proud of me.

After Draco wrote the letters for me we made our way back to the Slytherin dungeon where there was this amazing party just for me. Somehow there were mountains of cakes and flagons of pumpkin juice and Butterbeer. Adrian said he knew the secret of the Hogwarts kitchens but didn’t want to share it with us. And Blaise and Greg had enchanted the ceiling of the common room to show stars. They said it wasn’t as good as the Great Hall because it wasn’t the real sky outside, but just random stars. When Draco heard this he got his wand and moved some of the stars to make the Draco constellation. I told him he should show me it for real one night and he agreed with me. I know this means we’ll have to break some rules (like not going outside at night), but I would love to see the constellation that Draco is named after for real with him one day.

Hermione, Ron and Neville also came to the party. It was cool to see them being impressed by our common room. Ron said the chairs were of a better quality than the Gryffindor ones, but he and Neville both agreed they would feel trapped without any outside windows. Hermione was most fascinated by the windows that made it possible to look into the lake. She wondered if we were ever able to see the giant squid. Daphne told her that the squid never comes that close to the castle, but that mermaids sometimes were visible in the distant.

The best part of having my Gryffindor friends at my party was that nobody said anything about it. They were welcomed with open arms and that made me proud for being a Slytherin.

Sometime during the party Miles convinced me to open up the golden egg to see what would be inside. But I had to close it as soon as I opened it. This was because of the horrible screechy wailing that came from the egg. Everyone pitched in to guess what the sound was (Greg thought of Banshees, Miles mentioned the Cruciatus Curse and Blaise said it sounded more like Draco singing in the shower).

The weirdest thing was how Hermione had a long conversation with Adrian. I’m sure it had something to do with getting into the kitchens so she could talk to the house-elves. You should have seen Ron looking at the two of them all the time. It’s clear he was jealous. It would be great when Hermione and Ron could realise that they both love each other and should just get back together.

It was almost one at night when Draco and I finally made it to our bed. Draco put up the silencing charms as soon as I closed the curtains and was kissing me franticly. And then it happened. I lost my virginity. Draco told me he wanted to feel me inside of him and how could I refuse. I love him and being that close to him, connected in a way that was so intimate, it was mind-blowing. And it sure wasn’t perfect, but that didn’t matter at all, because it was me and Draco. After we just lay in our bed, unable to let go of each other. I don’t really know how to describe it properly, but it’s like Draco and I aren’t two persons anymore, but that we are one, connected forever. Even when we’re not close I somehow know he’s alright. And even Blaise noticed that something had changed, that we were less inclined to hold hands all the time. And I think he’s right, I don’t need to be physically connected to Draco anymore to know he’s close, I feel it now without the need to touch or see him. Is that normal for when you have sex as we did? I’ve never heard of people feeling like this. But I’m also not sure who we could talk to about this. I don’t think Sirius will focus on my questions, he’ll be more upset about the fact that I’ve lost my virginity when being only 14 years old. (I knew we’re young, but I love him mom, more than I’ve ever loved anyone in my entire life. There will never be anyone else for me, it’s just Draco for the rest of my life. I’m sure of it. So don’t worry okay.)

And then a week later Hermione gave me and Draco the best gift ever. It turns out that Adrian had told her the secret to getting into the kitchens. She dragged me and Draco to a corridor that leads to the Hufflepuff common room and stuff that was filled with lots of paintings related to food. One of them was a giant painting with a silver fruit bowl. Hermione tickled the huge green pear in the painting. It began to squirm and then turned into a large green door handle. She opened the door and pushed me and Draco inside. A small something hurtled towards us, screaming Draco’s name and hugging Draco around his middle. Draco was stunned and I could see he was really hard not to cry when he stuttered Dobby’s name.

Dobby was excited to see us Said he’d been hoping to see us and that now we were visiting him. He is working at Hogwarts now, told us how Headmaster Dumbledore was kind enough to hire him and pay him for his services. Draco wanted to know all that Dobby had done since he was set free and Dobby told us all while we had some tea. It turns out that Dobby has only been at Hogwarts for a week. He’d been travelling the country for two years trying to find a job, but nobody would hire him because he wanted to get paid.

And he didn’t start work at Hogwarts alone. He took Winky, Mr Crouch his house-elf that he fired after the Quidditch World cup. She cried all the time we were there. Dobby told us she doesn’t like being free like he does. And he really does. Draco is extremely happy about that. He had been worried about Dobby ever since he set him free, and knowing he’s in a good place, doing what he likes and being free, well it brought a beautiful smile on Draco’s face.

The rest of December was kind of boring, except for the Yule Ball. Professor Snape told us about it during one of our Potions classes and he held me back afterwards. That was an awkward conversation. It turns out that as a champion I’m supposed to open the ball, and everyone agreed it would be best if I would pick a nice girl that could accompany me for the opening dance. I told him no. You should have seen Professor Snape’s face. I think he was shocked that I point black refused. Blaise joked later that Draco is having a bad influence on me, making me forget all my manners by sucking them out of mine… well, you get the idea. I think we’ll have to practice some more on our silencing charms.

But back to my conversation with Professor Snape. I told him that I don’t dance, but that was not an option. All champions would open the first dance, so I would just have to learn how to. He was sure that Draco could help me with that, just as finding me a proper girl to take to the ball. I countered back that if I had to dance and all, that the only way I would do it was with Draco. I don’t want to pretend we’re not a couple. He’s my one and only, and if the world can’t handle that, that’s their problem, not mine. Professor Snape shook his head and told me fine, as long as we would behave during the ball.

And that is how my dance lessons started. First just in our dormitory because I didn’t want anyone to see me struggling to get my two left feed doing the right steps. Draco took it on him to figure out what kind of dance the first dance would be, so we could start with learning the steps of that one. I have no idea anymore how it was called, just that it took me forever to get it right. After the first week of practising, Draco said it would be better if he would be the lead during the dance, that it was easier to follow. And he was right, we switched roles and everything seemed so much simpler. And we nailed it during the ball. We were on the front page of the Prophet the day after, dancing and smiling at each other. I cut out the picture and put it up next to our bed.

That was the only good thing about being in the papers though. Draco’s father has sent an angry letter to Draco, about how he’s disgracing the Malfoy name and how he wished he had a better son, one that would behave like a real man instead of the girl he’s stuck with now. Draco cried that night. He pretends he doesn’t care that his father hates him in front of everyone else, but he can’t lie to me. I can see how upset he was and I wish I could make this easier for him. All he ever wanted was his father to be proud of him and the fact that he knows that will never happen hurts.

And it isn’t just Draco’s father that was upset by the picture and the story that went with it. No, you won’t believe the amount of hate mail we’ve both received. Most of it was for Draco, saying how he dragged their precious ‘Boy who lived’ down into the mud, and stuff like that. In the end, we made it into a game with all our friends to find the worst insults. Greg was good at reading them out loud and making it sound like serious letters. And Luna made them all sound like love letters instead of hate mail. We had a fun afternoon going through them all. But the best were the few letters of people supporting us and telling us that we should hold on to our love and not let the world get us down.

But this all happened after the ball and I hadn’t even reached that yet. Because the dance also brought on some other drama. First, there was Hermione who was upset that Ron just didn’t ask her as a date to the ball. Really. I think he’s blind. How can’t he see how much Hermione likes him? But no, the idiot tried to ask Fleur to the ball. You remember, the girl from Beauxbatons who has some Veela blood. If we have to believe Neville, it turned out into a little of a disaster. And only after that, the idiot asked Hermione, since she was a girl. But by then Hermione already had another date and she’s been pissed off about it up until the ball.

You never believe who her date was. Victor Krum took her to the ball. It turns out that Hermione has been the reason he spends so much time in the library. He’s been trying to talk to her all year and he finally managed to catch her attention. They seem to get on pretty well and I think Ron is really jealous now. That’s what you get when you don’t go for the one you love, you lose them (well those are Blaise his words, I think he still has a shot).

Oh, and we helped Greg in asking Daphne to the dance. He wanted to make it special. So we planned the whole thing, with flowers and everything. It was almost like a wedding proposal and Daphne was delighted. I think that was the first time they kissed in public. It was really cute.

But the worst part about the Yule ball was that we had to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas break. And I wanted to go to the dance, the weird sisters were coming and they are really good. But for the first time in my life, I also had a proper home to go to. I had kind of looked forward to celebrating Christmas with Sirius. Sirius wrote that it was fine and that we would just have to make the next summer holiday extra special. But it still felt wrong to stay at Hogwarts now that I have a home and a family that loves me.

And then Christmas day arrived. I woke up to Draco screaming. It’s not the most pleasant way to wake up. Draco was telling Dobby off for scaring him by hovering over them. I muttered that Draco scared me but they both didn’t bother to respond. Dobby was telling Draco he was sorry, that he was only in our room to wish both Draco and me a Merry Christmas and give us our presents. For a moment Dobby was scared that Draco hadn’t meant it when he told Dobby that he could visit us, so Draco hurried to assure Dobby that off course he was and that Draco was happy to see him. I just thought it was quite awkward since Draco and I were both naked under our sheets. This because Christmas Eve was spent. Well, it was different now that we had switched roles, but still so amazing. If it was up to me we would never leave our bed again.

Dobby hadn’t only woken me and Draco on Christmas morning. Draco’s screams woke Blaise and Greg. Blaise asked if we could please put up some silencing charms, that he didn’t need his Christmas ruined by our filthy habits. And then we could here Nott. He sounded angry about the fact that Draco and I were sharing a bed and he stormed off to go tell Professor Snape. I expected Crabbe to follow him, but he just said ‘can’t believe it took him this long to figure out that the lovebirds never stopped sleeping together’.  Greg and Blaise laughed and for a moment I thought that maybe we could all become friends one day again.

You can understand that we had to go to Professor Snape’s office that afternoon before the ball. He said that he had no choice but to write to our parents/guardians about this and that we should make sure we don’t get caught again. I think he’s given up on us sleeping in our own beds. As you might understand, this was also addressed in the angry letter Draco got from his father.

But back to Dobby. He wears a tea cosy as a hat and he’d decorated it with a Christmas bauble. He gave us both our presents, two pair of socks. Dobby had made them himself. We both had one sock filled with Snitches and one with broomsticks upon it. Draco was really happy with them and Dobby asked him to put them on right away. That made Draco blush because that would mean getting out from underneath the blankets and well, he had no clothes on. Blaise threw some boxers our way and told us to get dressed and make the elf happy so he could go back to sleep. He didn’t care about his presents at all, not like Greg who was already unwrapping them. Draco put on the boxers and then got out of bed to pull on the socks. Then he walked to his trunk and took out a package he gave Dobby, a gift he apparently had gotten for the elf. Dobby opened his package and then his mouth dropped open. Dobby was shaking his head and saying master Draco shouldn’t be giving Dobby this. But Draco insisted he takes it, that it used to be Dobby’s when he still lived at the manor and that he deserves to have them back. It turned out Draco had given him a set of photo’s of when Draco was little, some of them had Dobby in it, and some were with an older elf. After Dobby left, Draco explained that the older elf had been Dobby’s father who had passed away when Draco was six or seven.

Off course I got a lot of other presents. Hermione gave me a book called Quidditch Teams of Britain and Ireland (which Draco is reading right now), Sirius got me a handy penknife with attachments to unlock any lock and undo any knot, Hagrid had sent me a box of all my favourite sweets. Ron and his mother had gotten me a sweater, a green one with a dragon on it. Draco also received a sweater from Ron’s mother with a little note that said he would always have a home at the Weasley’s if he ever needed one. But the best present was from Draco. When all the others had left the dormitory he gave me a small box that contained a ring which beard the Malfoy crest. He said he wanted me to have it since I was his family now. As you might understand, that ring hasn’t left my hand ever since I put it on. Daphne joked it looked like we were married already, but that she still expects to organise an elaborate wedding party for us one day.

We spent the morning in the common room with our friends, close to the fire. I was sitting in Draco’s lap and Adrian shouted we should go cool down in the snow outside. He and his friends had just come back from a massive snow fight. And after lunch we took his advise and went for a stroll in the cold. Close to the castle, the snow was a mess, but the farther away we walked around the lake, the more untouched snow was around us. It was a nice afternoon, until Draco insisted we go back because he had to get ready (like three hours before the ball even started). He made me put a very elaborate braid in his hair, which took me like four tries to get right. But it made him look so beautiful, it was worth all the effort.

When we got to the entrance hall it was packed with students. Blaise went to look for his date Luna. And then Professor McGonagall’s voice called over the crowd for the champions to join her. I don’t think she was pleased to see that I followed her with Draco as my partner. Fleur had managed to find a date in the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain Roger Davies and Cedric had brought Cho. We joked we could talk about Quidditch all night since six of us were Quidditch players. Fleur didn’t seem happy with this news and Draco reassured her in French (he’s sexy when he speaks French) that we would not talk about Quidditch all night (at least that’s what he told me he said, but we’ll never know because none of the others speak French).

And then Victor Krum joined us and we were surprised to see who his date was. Hermione looked amazing. She had done something with her hair that made it sleek and shiny. I later learnt that she had asked Draco for help to tame her hair. Her dress was made of a floaty, periwinkle-blue material, and she was smiling at us as soon as she saw us. Draco complimented her on her hair, said that it looked amazing.

Once everyone was in the hall we had to get in line in pairs and follow Professor McGonagall into the hall. We were supposed to sit at the top table and on our way there I longed to just be able to sit down with our friends. Greg, Daphne, Blaise, Luna, Ron and his date (I think Parvati is her name), Neville and Ginny, who all shared one of the smaller tables. But we had no other choice than to sit down with the other champions on the head table, who housed Headmaster Dumbledore, Madame Maxime, Karkaroff, Ludo Bagman and one of Ron’s older brothers. I was just glad that Draco and I could sit next to Hermione and Krum. It was fun getting to know Krum better. He told us that his school was also in a castle, but that it wasn’t as big as Hogwarts. Karkaroff wasn’t too happy with Viktor sharing all this information with us and told him to stop interacting with the disgrace of Hogwarts. Viktor shook his head and told us that he doesn’t care that Draco and I are a couple. He said we were very brave to be open about it. It turns out he’d never met anyone who is gay, that if anyone would be at his school they would get expelled as soon as they would act on it. After that, we turned the conversation towards Quidditch. Cedric, Cho and Roger all joined in and we had a great dinner together.

After dinner, it was time for the first dance and when Headmaster Dumbledore moved all the tables to the sides of the room I got nervous. Draco took my hand and whispered in my ear that all will be fine, that I just had to follow his lead. And that is what I did, I let Draco guide me over the dance floor and just focused only on him. Blaise later told us we looked amazing and so in love that it was disgusting. Daphne and Luna both told him to shut up, saying it was the cutest thing they’ve ever seen. I didn’t even realise when the first song had ended and others had come onto the dance floor. I was just enjoying myself in Draco’s arms. At some point, Professor Snape passed us and muttered the word distance. We both laughed and took a small step apart. Somehow during our dancing, we had moved closer to each other and were getting a bit to close apparently.

Not long after that, we took a break from dancing to sit down with our friends and to have some drinks. Sometime later we were joined by Seamus, Dean and Ron (who had lost his date somewhere during the night because apparently, he couldn’t stop complaining about Hermione being at the dance with Viktor Krum). All three of them were a bit cranky and when Draco told them to lighten up and enjoy the evening they all looked at the dance floor and signed. Luna told us to leave them be, that love was being hard on them. I asked why, and both Seamus and Dean simultaneous said it was all my fault. I didn’t understand, so they were so kind to elaborate. It turns out that Dean is bisexual and that he has a massive crush on Neville, who he knows is gay but apparently in love with me. And then Seamus has the hots for Ginny, who also has been crushing on me for as long as Ron can remember. Draco was all like ‘I told you so’ about Neville being in love with me. I still can’t believe it, it’s already a mystery most of the time why Draco loves me, but that others feel that way about me, who think of me that way, it’s strange.

After that, Draco and I danced some more and then we went for a walk outside to have some privacy so we could kiss. On our way to a private spot, we overheard Karkaroff talk to Professor Snape. It turns out that he was extremely insulted by the fact that Hogwarts would let two boys dance together. Professor Snape told him to start living in the now instead of in the past and let us be, that he had no idea what he was talking about. We both duck out of the way and hid behind a bush when they passed us. I think Professor Snape did see us, but after the conversation he’d just had, I think he thought it was wise not to point us out and duck points for kissing in the yard.

When we got back to the castle we walked in on a fight between Ron and Hermione in the entrance hall. Ron screamed at Hermione that she was fraternising with the enemy and Hermione screamed back that Ron just should have asked her first and not as a back-up if he hadn’t wanted her to go to the dance with Viktor. Ron told her not to be silly, that he just wanted to be nice to her and make sure she wasn’t going to the dance alone. Hermione told Ron she hates him and then stormed off. I took one look at Draco and he nodded, so I was off following Hermione. I found her sitting on a bench in the gardens, crying. I just let her cry on my shoulder without saying a word. I know love can be painful and how no words can make it better.

Sometime later, Hermione calmed down a bit and we strolled around. And then we overheard a conversation between Hagrid and Madame Maxime. It turns out that Hagrid is half-giant and when he asked Madame Maxime if she was too, she got really angry. Draco later explained that it’s a shameful thing, being part creature. Just another thing the wizarding world is stupid and short-minded. And giants are also seen as vicious and violent creatures that like to kill. So we all agreed to keep Hagrid’s secret and not tell anyone else.

In the end, I had a great time during the dance, dancing with Draco and enjoying the company of our friends and I was a little sad when it was over and we had to go back to our dormitories and go to sleep. I told Draco I wanted to dance more often with him, that I liked it. Draco said he liked it too just before he drifted off to sleep.

And now the holiday is almost over, we’ve just got this weekend with New Years and then it’s back to classes and our normal life. No more laying in bed until almost lunchtime, or taking long strolls in the cold snow just to pass the time. Mrs Davis is very proud of me. She said I’m dealing well with all the crazy things that have been thrown my way this year. I still see her like ones a month now, just to make sure I’m still good. I don’t have to do any crazy homework for my therapy anymore, but sometimes I wished that I didn’t need it at all. But I’m scared that will never be the case, with my crazy life.

Love you both,

Harry James Potter

[justasmalltowngirl1990-blog]

London calling

Hi guys so this is my first blog please dont expect perfect grammar or any of that shizz cos you know we all make mistakes and nobody's perfect. As you guessed it's about a trip to London. I'm writing it alongside my better half @bloke-interrupted as he is known on tumblr. I know him as Owen.

So this wasnt my first trip to London but I always get that sense of excitement approaching kings cross (I'm a Harry Potter fan). We were going for a weekend of culture and London always delivers big on culture. Me I love love love musicals but this time we went to see a Tennessee William's play bit more civilised but I couldn't sing along (bummer). So anyways we found a great place for breakfast a deli in golborne avocados pancetta poached eggs tomatoes cheese and pancakes it was huge and delicious. Spoiler alert I'll talk alot about food #sorrynotsorry

So then we walked through portobello road place where the riches of ages are sold (Disney fans will get the reference for you less cool people reading this bedknobs and broomsticks). It was really cool and I loved it so we headed off to Camden on the tube which I also love just cos we dont have it where I'm from (public transport is a joke). Camden was everything and more I posed with hulk antman and a moonin (seperatly) there was loads of cool stalls and the food smelt amazing. Then we went to the cube cafe which had pikachu in the window and had shakes again yummy my berry one kicked Owens banana & chai ones ass.

And that's when things went slightly pear shaped. Ladies and gentlemen we walked from Camden all the way to the British museum to then discover actually we had been there in our last trip. I was fine used to walking in cheap primark shoes however @bloke-interrupted

not so much his shoes started crumbling (moral of the story wear socks in your shoes kids). Needless to say both of us had aching feet by this point so we got an uber to Trafalgar square.

Next stop on the culture trip the national gallery where we saw some really old art by some really famous long dead dudes. Dont get me wrong they were good paintings but tbh it was totally over my head I didnt have a clue I even saw a famous horse painting which everyone else recognised. I felt like a fish out of water plus my feet were really hurting by this point . We got the tube back to our air bnb (more walking eugh) which sidenote was awesome.

Rested and ready to hit the town we got the tube back into town for the main event of the whole weekend the play about a night at the iguana. Had a fabulous line up and the noel coward theatre looked amazing. I love all the gilded decorations and the big dome in the ceiling. Somehow I'm into architecture in old buildings no idea why but I love it the grander the better in my opinion. And then it started I swear to God the first half seemed to last an eternity not helped by the ridiculously uncomfortable (seat c15 you son of a .... ) or the fact it was slow to get going. The acting was good and I could not do what they do (my memory is terrible) however Clive owen was the weakest of the main cast I'm sure he will find his groove. Round of applause to the female leads fantastic throughout. The German family ponlintless in my opinion but then there could be some deeper meaning behind them that I missed. The second act way better one of them descends into madness another dies and your left feeling sorry for one of them as well. Time went alot quicker and before I knew it the actors were bowing and we were outta there. I wish I had researched the play so I felt some connection to it I think I would have enjoyed it more.

Now for my favourite part the walk to China town and the best Chinese I have ever had. Pork dumplings, crispy duck, sweet and sour chicken crispy chilli beef and chicken fried rice just amazing my mouth is watering remembering it good job this isn't a vlog or it would be plain embarrassing 😂😂

Anyways the night ended on a high and we tumbled into bed exhausted.

Sunday we breakfasts again at the same place pancakes maple syrup and bacon for me owen had scrambled eggs bacon on ciabatta again delicious and then we were at kings cross looking at places to live in London..... we could afford a house boat 😂😂😂 and people watching always fun.

The whole point of this blog (I know we finally got to it) is to encourage people (if anyone reads it) to take your loved ones to places you have been that are special to you for a fun day/weekend out. For me having someone who knows London pretty well makes me fall in love with it even more and also reignites that persons spark for the place. Watching someone experience London for the first time is magical it's like a kid in a candy store where do you look first and your wonder and amazement is infectious and changes the whole experience for both of you. But when you've seen all the "big stuff" you start to notice the smaller things around London little bars that you never noticed cos your head was in a map or the cute little side street that has wild flowers all around it. Time shared together is never wasted and whether its London or somewhere your nan used to take you it's just so worth it to see your happiness become their happiness.

Peace out guys and dolls xoxoxo

[cyborgwithgreathair]

In which Gift Giving has Obstacles #3

The third installment in the gift giving war that has consumed my life.

Part 1 - The beginning of the end of boring presents

Part 2 - The less than successful retaliation

And now for Part 3 - Upping the game with frustration.

Christmas day, 2016. INTP arrives at my (INFP) house for gift exchanging. A text message is received informing me that if I want my present I must come and assist with the lugging of them up the stairs. I arrived at the bottom of the stairs to find INTP with two suit case shaped gifts. One: An actual suitcase wrapped in chains (clearly this is the birthday present which I will need to work to get into before my Birthday in a month). The Other: Much larger, but clearly a cardboard replica.

My first reaction: “If there’s not a Niffler in one of those I’m gonna be so mad.” Because I’m a massive nerd. And I need a Niffler in my life.

So I start opening the big one. Let me just say that the handle was not very stable. It pulled straight off. These details are important of course. *Shifty eyes*.

Inside the fake suitcase I find a large, rectangular item wrapped in bubble wrap. After slowly peeling back the bubble wrap I am left speechless. Stunned. It’s quite a feat to achieve such a thing. Staring back at me with adorably big eyes is this little creature who has clearly wrought destruction on a small village and isn’t sure whether to make a get away or just try to look cute and pretend it wasn’t him.

INTP, in her infinite creativity and painting skills has found an old painting in a second hand store and decided to add to it. With a Slow Loris. And flames. The slow loris is understandable, because it’s my favourite animal. (It’s small, cute and venomous, it should be EVERYONE’s favourite animal). The flames? Well, they were justified in one comment from INTP: “Flames are really fun to paint, just so you know.”

With the painting still boggling my brain, I move on to the other item in the cardboard suitcase. The good ol’ cryptex from the beginning of the war. This time it is MUCH HEAVIER than the last time I received it. 

It took me two days to get into the cryptex. I didn’t get the CORRECT code, but it was near enough that the cryptex accepted it. To which INTPs immediate reaction was, “If you give that back to me for my birthday it will not survive. I will throw it against a wall and smash it. It is not as reliable as it claimed to be.”

Lucky for me, inside was ANOTHER cryptex! This one would absolutely under no circumstances accept an incorrect code. Which meant hour upon hour of slowly twisting the rings. It was constantly within reach for the entire month. It came in the car. It watched movies with me. It even came to work once and I gave it to the kids to try. 

I was systematically working my way through combinations, knowing from previous experience that it wouldn’t be a word. But I still didn’t manage to get into it before my birthday.

The day rolled around and we had plans to go out. INTP arrived. Gave me my card and just grinned at me while I suffered through trying to solve the clue. A task that could not be done in the should time before we had to leave, so it came with me, along with the cryptex and paper for working things out.

I figured out pretty quick that whatever the code was had something to do with the order of keys on a keyboard. The trouble was, I needed to figure out the rest of the clue to know what to do with it. After some frustrating anti-prompting from INTP I managed to get a slightly affirmative response to my suggestion that I should write out the letters as they appear on the QWERTY keyboard and then line up the regular alphabet beneath it. And then use it to translate each and every five letter word in the clue until I found one that worked.

HALLELUJAH! I GOT IN!

Only to find a key and a map.

The map was a hand drawn representation of my house with an “X” where my room is with “Location where the key is not”

I gotta say. I was a little beyond frustrated at this point. Not only did I have yet another obstacle to my present (I have severe instant gratification issues, you see), but it would be another several hours before I could investigate at home and find where the key to my present was. 

Later, we arrived home in the rain and I started a game of Hotter/Colder to try and find the key. I had no idea how on earth she could possible have hidden a key in my house where I wouldn’t find it. Like, jeez. I live there. So I’m asking questions. “Is it inside?” No. “Is it on the back veranda?” No. 

“There’s a clue on the key ring,” she tells me.

Why thank you for mentioning it. I look at the key ring, which is Applejack from My Little Pony. This is not helpful. I don’t watch MLP. INTP does. By this point I’m practically frothing at the mouth with frustration (but also loving it, because PUZZLES) when it suddenly hits me. 

Cockney.

Rhyming.

Slang.

INTP is a little bit obsessed with it. She loves the fact that it’s rhyming slang, but the part of the the phrase used is the part that doesn’t rhyme with the item being referred to. For example “Apple and Pears” means “Stairs” but people would just say “Apples”. It’s the only one I can ever remember confidently, which is lucky, because it’s the one I needed. So I head for the back steps. 

Warmer.

I walk down them.

Warmer.

I reach the bottom.

Warmer.

I start to look around and under them.

Colder.

What the hell? I glare at INTP. She grins back. (This is a typical interaction on any given day). 

“Do you mean to say that I need to walk out in the rain and check the front steps?” I asked.

“Try it and I’ll let you know,” INTP replies.

So I walk out in the rain. 

Hotter.

Up the driveway and around to the front of the house where the front steps. I’m staring at the steps as rain ruins my hair and glaring at INTP’s stupid grinning face. I step closer. 

BOILING.

There, under the steps. Hidden from view because you have to reach under and into a space that can’t be seen, is a large snap lock back with a tiny cash box inside. I grab it and hurry out of the rain, use the key from the cryptex to open it and retrieve the new key from inside. 

FINALLY I can open unchain the suitcase and see what is inside.

Item number 1: The Pig Owl vivisected and zippered pillow pet, looking incredibly flat as it now lacks a lot of stuffing which has been filched for other projects or has simply gone missing.

Item number 2: A replica of Lucius Malkfoy’s wand from Harry Potter.

Item number 3:

A hand made, original INTP designed Niffler stuffed animal. Oh. Em. Gee. Totes adorbs. Me likey. Such loves.

INTP then reminds me of my first words upon seeing the suitcase, about there being a Niffler in there. I’m totally psychic, guys. 

[echoflowertea]

Hi! I have an idea for a prompt! I know I'm a day late, so no rush whatsoever and feel free to take it or not :) It's for a Sans/Readr/Paps. Your sister and her husband have to be away for the weekend or smth and ask you to take care of their baby/toddler (whatever you think fits best for the story). So they take the child to your house where you live with the bros, but then you have to go out for a bit to take baby things, and they are left alone with the kid. They freak out, funny times ensue

here ya go, it’s my birthday so i figured i would give you the gift of a terribly overdue update!!!!

Pairing: Sans/Reader, Papyrus/Reader

Summary: A weekend with your nephew didn’t sound so bad to the skelebros. Maybe they should’ve read more parenting books.

“So you guys really don’t mind?”

“OF COURSE NOT. WE ARE EXCELLENT COMPANY.YOUR PRECIOUS NEPHEW WILL FINALLY KNOW WHAT IT IS LIKE TO BE CARED FORPERFECTLY! WE HAVE PREPARED THE ULTIMATE DAY OF ULTIMATE FUN FOR SUCH ANOCCASION.”

You shot him a halfhearted smile. Papyrus’confidence almost always made you feel better, but you were a little nervousabout this. It wasn’t as if you didn’t trust the brothers, but they could be alittle…eccentric. As far as you knew, neither of them were well-versed incaring for a child, let alone a human one. Both were still vastly impressed anddisgusted with your bodily functions, which you could control, so having anunpredictable toddler around the house for the day seemed like…

“heh, don’t stress yourself so much. we gotthis.”

You observed them. Papyrus had on his childsafety gear prepped, which included taping a lot of pillows to his body so noneof his joints would end up hurting anyone. Because the brothers were…literallyskeletons, they had some parts that jutted out and could poke or stab if youweren’t careful enough. Papyrus would dress himself up in attire that spokevolumes about how gently he was going to treat this kid.

“Awesome. Thanks, guys. I know that this iskind of last minute.”

Your nephew was supposed to come by nextweek, but his mom and dad had some major things come up. Some business tripsgot moved around, some flights cancelled, and you were their last hope. Youdidn’t mind so much, but you were going to run it by your boyfriends first. Thiswas a relationship founded on open and honest communication, after all.

“SO WHEN SHOULD WE EXPECT HIM TO ARRIVE?”

You glanced at the clock. “In a few hours.When they get here, I’ll introduce you.”

Sans grinned and shoved his hands in hispockets, the pinpricks of light in his sockets flaring to life. “we’re gonnahave lots of fun.”

“You’d better not corrupt my nephew, Sans.If he learns a pun from you, I’m breaking up with you.”

“heh heh heh.”

In the short time before your nephew wasdropped off, you and Papyrus perused through the house to make sure everythingdangerous was put away. Anything knee-high was blocked off or sealed up.Papyrus was the one who crawled around on his hands and knees to make sure youdidn’t miss anything, while Sans’ idea of helping was to give half-assed wordsof encouragement from the living room couch.

The doorbell rang and you did your best tobrush the dust bunnies out of your hair before you answered. Sans beat you toit, having shuffled over clad in his signature slippers and that harmless smileon his face.

Your sister looked down at him and inhaledsharply, a little baffled at his presence. She had only ever seen him get upfrom the couch to his seat at the dining table when they stopped by for dinner,so it must’ve been a shock to see him up and about.

“Hi, Sans.”

“heya. c'mon in.”

Your sister paused and glanced over hershoulder. From this angle, you could see a pair of small, chubby hands wrappedaround her leg.

“Sweetie, it’s okay.” She bent down toscoop him up and he clung to her upper half, squeezing tight and burying hisface in the crook of her neck. “Sorry, guys. He just woke up from a nap so he’skind of grumpy.”

“He’s also never seen the new house before.Or met the skelebros,” you ventured. “Sans, Papyrus, this is Moo.”

“MOO?”

The toddler glanced up with shining eyes atthe sound of his name. On top of his head was a spotted, black-and-white capcomplete with floppy ears and tiny horns.

“He likes cows.”

“oh my god.” Sans succeeded in holding inhis laughter.

His mom and dad came in for just a fewminutes. They’d done their best to tell Moo that he would be staying with you,and considering you were his favorite aunt, he was totally cool with that. Butthe two strangers were still a little bit of an unknown for him, so he stuck tohis mom’s side the entire time.

“He should be okay until dinner. I’ve got abunch of spare clothes for him just in case he has an accident, but he shouldtell you when he needs to go.”

“You’re potty-trained, Moo? You’re such abig boy!”

He nodded and took a step away from hismom. The both of you continued to chat while Moo decided to explore the rest ofthe house on his own. His bare feet resting along the hardwood floors, hesquatted down to inspect a pair of shiny sneakers that belonged to none otherthan Papyrus himself.

“HELLO! I SEE YOU’VE SPOTTED MY SHOES!WOULD YOU LIKE TO TRY THEM ON?”

Moo plopped down in response. Papyrus washappy to join him on the floor. Instead of tearing his shoes off, he insteadpulled apart the laces and loosened them up enough for the canvas material tostretch out.

Papyrus tore them off one by one andgrinned. “THERE WE GO, AND HERE YOU ARE. GIVE THEM A TRY.”

Moo looked down at his feet and raised aleg up.

“think he wants you to put ‘em on, bro.”

“OH!!! OF COURSE. HOW SILLY OF ME. HERE YOUARE, KING MOO. THE MOST DELICATE OF SLIPPERS TO ADORN YOUR FEET.”

You had to admit, it was adorable as hell.He and Papyrus seemed to be okay with each other. And although Sans didn’t wantto admit it, he was keeping an eyesocket on both of them to make sure thatnothing happened. If anything, it was more of a precaution for what-ifs ratherthan just him being overprotective. Because, like you said, kids were wildsometimes and could snap at any moment.

Proud of his new shoes, Moo did his best topush himself up and balance despite his feet being wayyy too small inside.Papyrus kept a gentle hand on his back while he flopped on over to his parentsto show them what he’d done.

“Oh, Moo! They look great on you!”

He beamed, proud of his work. “Mama! Apitcher!”

She fished out her phone and snapped one ofhim. He stretched out to grab it before she could even bend down to show him,marveling at the screen and swiping left and right. How kids adapted so quicklyto technology these days was beyond you.

It only took a few more minutes before hisparents left. You kissed your sister on the cheek and saw her off, promisingthat Moo would have a great time with you and the bros.

Well. Unfortunately, it looked like the onething your sister forgot to pack were snacks.

You thought you would be prepared for thiskinda thing. But after rushing to the kitchen once Moo started going on aboutwanting his favorite juice – pear, as it was – you realized that none of whatyou bought earlier in the week was going to suffice. In fact…as you rummagedthrough the empty boxes of cereal stuffed in the cabinets, you realized thatyou were completely cleaned out. What the hell!

“Sans, where are the fruit snacks in theshape of animals?”

“the frooty tooties? ate ‘em.”

“MORE LIKE HE CHEWED THEM UP UNTIL THEYWERE SQUISHY AND THEN USED THEM AS POSTER PUTTY TO HANG HIS NEW BLUEPRINTS UP!”

“Please tell me that’s a lie.”

“that’s a lie.”

“WAIT. HIS STATEMENT IS A LIE. BUT IF HE’SLYING ABOUT LYING, THEN DOES THAT MAKE IT A TRUTH?”

“Papyrus, no.”

“yes.”

“WHO DO I BELIEVE???”

You knew that you had to go out and getsome more age-appropriate snacks. Papyrus’ bone-shaped crackers were not goingto be a good combo for a kid who would’ve shoved as many as he could’ve downhis throat. That and the recipe was specifically made for making sure that theskeletons were calcified all to hell, which might’ve been a little weird tofeed a human child. Who knew what kind of repercussions would come out of that.

“Moo, follow me for a sec, okay?” You tookhim by the hoof – err, hand – and led him to the living room. He was alreadybouncing and looked restless. You had no clue when his last meal or snack was,but you weren’t ready to deal with the aftermath just yet.

It was kind of a crappy thing to do, butyou needed some time to talk to the boys in private. So you flicked on the TVand let him busy himself with the mindless chatter of some educationalcartoons.

“Okay, guys. We need a game plan.”

“EXCELLENT. I’LL GRAB MY JOURNAL. ONEMOMENT!” Papyrus rushed out of the room.

Every week Papyrus would pick his best mealfrom an array of dishes he cooked over the week, take about a day to create aphotorealistic painting of it, and then put it on the wall to cover a wall safefull of his most precious treasures. The safe was your idea, so that the dogsnooping around wouldn’t get into his figurines any more. Sans was the one whosuggested switching out the cover so people wouldn’t get suspicious. Why thatseemed logical, you would never know.

After snatching the book, Papyrus returnedto the kitchen for your huddle. He was focused, pen in his gloved hand,eyesockets narrowed, ready to strike the page with copious notes andillustrations.

“whaddid you wanna talk about, babe?”

“Moo needs snacks, since you so graciouslydecided to relieve him of those.”

“yer welcome.”

You sniffed. “Anyways, I need you guys torun to the store and pick him up some stuff. I’ll keep an eye on him here whileyou’re gone.”

“OF COURSE. BRILLIANT. I WOULD EXPECTNOTHING LESS FROM MY OTHER HALF.” Papyrus dotted his i’s and crossed his t’s,his careful penmanship a marvel even from all the way where you stood. “I, FORONE, AM GLAD TO EXPLORE THE BELLY OF THE BEAST OTHERWISE KNOWN AS SOOPERSAVERS!THEY EVEN HAVE THEIR OWN SPICE AISLE. HOW EXCITING.”

“sure, we’ll get in and out in under twentyminutes.” Sans winked.

That mischievous look on his face wasenough to put a wrench in your plans. “Okay, wait a second. I think I decidedtoo fast. Papyrus, we can’t trust Sans to go with anyone to the store. Rememberlast time? He locked you in the freezer for an hour.”

Papyrus gasped. “OH, NO. I HAD ALMOSTFORGOTTEN THOSE TERRIBLE, TERRIBLE MEMORIES!!! THE LOOK OF ABSOLUTE CONTEMPT ONTHE CARTOON COWS’ FACES AS I RESTED AMONG THE DAIRY. THEY SILENTLY JUDGED MYBONE DENSITY AND TEMPTED ME WITH WHISPERS OF CALCIUM INFUSED DRINKS!!!”

Sans kept his downright devilish grin,causing a sweat to bead on his brother’s forehead.

“DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT, SANS.”

“well, you n’ me could go.” Sans swunghimself up on the kitchen counter. You weren’t sure how he managed to do thatgiven he was short as hell, but it was best not to question him and his casualabuse of physics. “my bro could stay here with the kid, and you’d make sure iwas on my best behavior.”

“HMM, TRUE. THOUGH THAT WOULD LEAVE ME ATQUITE THE DISADVANTAGE, AS MOST OF MY ACTIVITIES REQUIRE THREE PEOPLE! WE ARETRYING TO MAKE A GOOD FIRST IMPRESSION ON MOO, SANS.”

“That and we would never get anythingdone.” You left it at that. You weren’t going to sit there and give him thesatisfaction of mentioning what happened on June 15th. You still hada scar in the shape of a bite mark that refused to go away, no thanks to him.

“WELL, WE COULD LEAVE SANS HERE ALONE ANDDO THE SHOPPING BY OURSELVES.”

You and Papyrus exchanged looks, then burstout laughing. Yeah, right. The entire house would be in shambles by the timeyou got back.

“hey, i resent that…you’re completelyright.”

You snorted. “Okay, so that’s one moreoption down. I guess this leaves one solution. Papyrus, Sans….are you two okayto stay here and watch Moo by yourselves for about an hour?”

Papyrus was quick to agree. Sans shruggedit off.

“WITH MY FAMILIARITY OF THE HOUSE, I WILL HAVENO TROUBLE DEFENDING MYSELF FROM SANS’ PRANKS. AND WE WILL SURELY BE ABLE TOCOMPLETE AT LEAST THREE PUZZLES WITH ALL OF US PARTICIPATING.”

“you gonna be ok buying groceries byyourself, babe?”

“I should be good. I’m more concerned aboutyou guys. But if you’re sure you can handle it, then I would really, reallyappreciate it.”

They both perked up. Any mention of yourapproval sent a pleasant shiver through their bones. Mostly because they lovedyou so much that making you happy was probably one of the only goals theyshared in life. (That and making sure they never missed an episode of the showall of you adored: Tales of the Aboveground, where monsters from all overshared their experiences of living on the surface.)

“THEN IT’S SETTLED. GOODBYE! WE WILL SEEYOU IN A BIT!”

“Hey, wait—”

You barely had a chance to get another wordout before you were shoved outside the front door, your bag magicallypositioned on your shoulder and keys around your fingers. You wanted to givethem some last minute advice, but the absolute Determination on their facesspoke volumes about their commitment to this. They would get through themorning without you and they weren’t going to take no for an answer.

Papyrus made sure to lock the door with aquick flick of his wrist, turning the small button on the knob despite yourprotests from outside. He sniffled.

“NYOO HOO HOO. I HATE TO LEAVE HER ON OURDOORSTEP. BUT WE HAVE TO BE STRONG.”

“it’s ok.”

“YOU’RE RIGHT. MOO NEEDS US.” Papyrus stoodto his full height and narrowed his eyes. “NOW…WHERE IS HE?”

Both paled.

“SANS ARE YOU TELLING ME WE ARE THIRTY-FIVESECONDS INTO OUR DEBUT AS BABYSITTERS AND WE HAVE LOST THE CHILD???”

“relax, bro. he’s gotta be somewhere in thehouse.”

Both went silent for any clues. Aside fromthe gentle trickling of water upstairs, it was relatively peaceful.

Wait…

Trickling water?!

“THE BATHROOM! SANS!!!”

“what about it?”

“HE’S IN THERE! STOP TRYING TO DISTRACT ME!LET’S GO!!!”

Papyrus put his gloved hand on the railingand propelled himself upward the long flight of stairs, Sans trailing behind.

The closer they got to the top, the louderthe noises became. Splashing and giggles. There were a million things thatcould’ve gone wrong when they opened the door, ninety-nine percent of which youwould probably dump them for. And they weren’t going to let that happen.  

“MOO? ARE YOU IN THERE? I WOULD LIKE TOCOME IN AND JOIN YOU!”

Papyrus jiggled the doorknob.

Locked.

“aw, shit.”

“SANS! WHAT DO WE DO?! WE HAVE NO ACCESS TOHIM! HE COULD BE DOING TERRIBLE THINGS IN THERE!”

“relax, bro. we made sure to turn off thewater for the tub. we put on the special seat for the toilet, and all themedications are locked up. there’s nothin’ he could do from his height.”

At that perfect moment, both brotherslooked down to see their feet sinking into a puddle of water creeping out fromunder the door.

Sans started to sweat.

“WELL, LOOKS LIKE THIS IS A JOB FOR MYIMMEASURABLE STRENGTH. STAND BACK, SANS!”

Papyrus readied himself at the door. Thesheer power of his love for you would surely get him through.

“ONE….” He would be a hero!

“TWO…” You would be so impressed with histoddler caring skills!

“THREE!”

He went for a running start and the dooropened.

“GGAAAAAAKKK!”

He dug his heels into the floor and bracedhimself for impact, doing his very best to stop his body from launching intothe room. All he could see was a hundred scenarios that ended up in someonebeing injured, from a minor scrape to complete and utter annihilation. Maybe hewas spending too much time with Undyne after all. His mind was getting to befar more dramatic than he would’ve liked for such a delicate situation.

As he poured his last ounce of strengthinto stopping dead in his tracks, the tip of his shoe caught on the rug Sansinsisted that they place right outside the bathroom. The gross, musty one hepicked up from a garage sale because he thought it was “a bargain”. Yeah, a bigpile of disgustingness and a cheesy line! What kind of pun was, “make some roomfor dessert”???

Papyrus teetered forwards and went crashingdown onto the floor. It didn’t hurt, but it was unpleasant to feel the stifftufts of the rug’s fabric scraping against his bones. Dazed, he lifted his headjust high enough to see the damage.

Moo had somehow tipped the trashcan overand stood up high enough for him to reach over to the sink. He had taken giantwads of toilet paper, coated them in water and soap, and then slapped the mushymass all over the bathroom. On Papyrus self-portrait made of dry pasta. Onthe cute little figurines that you swore brought life to the place. And even onSans’ joke book that had at least fifty unsanitary references!

With his consciousness fading and lastmortified look, Moo took the toilet brush and brought it up to his mouth tosniff it.

Sans knew that his brother would be okay,but it was still hilarious to see him faint like that. He mostly did it when heoverloaded on sensory things, which happened more often when Papyrus didn’thave his gloves on. But today it might’ve just been a combination of all newthings plus the pretty disgusting state the bathroom was in.

Sans couldn’t be prouder of the little guy.Already destroying the grossest room in the entire house. Man, humans werefascinating already with their digestive systems, but all the tools and suchused to help keep things civilized was enough to make him crack up. Seeing alittle kid completely oblivious toward all of that and dismantling the entirepolite system they had going on was amazing.

“kid, i think we’re gonna get along.”

He stuck his hand out, and was promptlygiven a slimy wad of tissue covered in snot.

“oh, man. that’s disgusting. i love it.”

Papyrus stirred from his unscheduled nap.He felt a little groggy, but the anxiety from before he passed out lingeredlong enough for him to snap back to reality. He sat up and rubbed at hiseyesockets.

“SANS? MOO? ARE YOU BOTH HERE?”

The whole bathroom was in disarray. Papyruscouldn’t bear to look! He reached for the door handle and made sure he didn’thave to subject his eyes to any more torture.

Papyrus happened to glance down at hischest while he pulled himself up from the floor. Pinned to his chest, along thepillow armor that had been fitted on him somehow, was a simple note.

countto ten, then see if you can find us

“I AM NOT PLAYING THIS GAME!” he shouted. “OH,WAIT. THERE IS ANOTHER MESSAGE WRITTEN ON THE BACK OF THE PAPER.” He turned itover.

yougotta. if you’re still not convinced, flip me over again

“WHAT!!!” Papyrus did as he was told.

wait,how does this paper have three sides? anyway, if you don’t do it i’ll trashyour room. love, your bro

“I HATE THIS!!!!” And, against his betterjudgment… “ONE, TWO, THREE…”

After ten agonizing seconds, Papyrus madehis way downstairs. He found a trail of flour leading to the backdoor, at leastfive toys strewn across the floor, some plastic utensils wedged between thecouch cushions, and the phone was off the hook with someone shouting on theother line.

“HELLO?” Papyrus scrambled for the phone,managing to wrestle it up to his face despite the long retro cord being tangledup in knots. “YOU HAVE REACHED THE HOME OF THE GREAT PAPYRUS, HIS EQUALLY GREATLADY, AND ONE LAZY BROTHER, HOW CAN I ASSIST YOU?”

“Paps? It’s me. Is everything okay?”

His breath caught in his throat. Somehow. “AH!!!YES, EVERYTHING IS GOING GREAT!” He started to sweat. “HOW IS THE STORE? HAVEYOU FOUND PRODUCTS AT REASONABLE AND UNBEATABLE PRICES?”

“I think so. I’m in line right now, butthere’s only one cashier and he looked like a new hire. He’s paging the emptystore for someone to do a price check on Mettamuffins. Oh my god. Now he’spanicking.”

“THIS STORY IS INCREDIBLY INTERESTING ANDDOWNRIGHT SCANDALOUS, BUT I HAVE SOME…THINGS…TO ATTEND TO.”

“Hmm. Are you sure you’re doing okay?”

He nearly cracked, but didn’t. “OF COURSEWE AM! I MEAN, OF COURSE I ARE! I WILL JUST HAVE TO MAKE SURE I CLEAN UP SOMEOF OUR…ACTIVITIES! GOOD LUCK ON CHECKING OUT YOUR ITEMS! SMOOCH!!!”

He hung up and heard a quiet snicker in theroom.

“SANS, I KNOW YOU’RE IN HERE. THIS CHILD’SPRESENCE HAS MADE YOU EVEN MORE…CHILDISH!!! PLEASE COME OUT OF HIDING, SHE ISCOMING BACK SOON AS WE NEED TO FIX THIS PLACE UP!”

No answer.

Papyrus crossed his arms and thought deeplyon where his brother would be hiding. His favorite spot to snooze in as of latewas the closet near the front door. But it didn’t look like that side of thehouse had been touched just yet. Sans also liked to roll under the couch andsleep under the comfortable weight of the cushions, but when he did that, healmost always managed to kick one slipper off. No sign of that.

As he rubbed his chin thoughtfully, a smalldroplet of liquid splashed against the top of his skull.

“…SANS!!!”

“heh heh. ya got me.”

Papyrus looked up and put his hands on hiships. Sans had somehow crawled up to the corner of the ceiling and was wedgedup there.

“WHERE IS MOO?”

“around here. told him to hide.”

“WE NEED TO BE WATCHING HIM!”

Sans slipped down the length of the wallwithout batting an eye. “ok, ok. i told him to hide in my room. let’s check itout.”

The trek toward the brothers’ bedrooms waslong and arduous, filled with slick spots of melting sticks of butter and granola.A gross combination, and Papyrus wasn’t even sure how he managed to get accessto more food. So much for locking everything up. But despite the harsh terrain,both brothers persisted until they reached Sans’ safe haven.

“hey, bro. what’re you doing? knock first.”

“THERE IS NO TIME FOR FORMALITIES. MOO, IAM COMING IN!”

The stench was unbearable. Dirty clotheslying haphazardly on the floor. A lampshade on the floor. Cloudy test tubesstacked on top of each other. Crumpled bedsheets, pillows stained with coffeeand tea, a plate caked with mysterious gray mold. The entire place looked likeit had seen the wrath of a certain three-year-old.

“everythin’ looks normal to me.”

“OH MY GOD. THE SMELL IS EVEN WORSE THAN ITWAS THIS MORNING!”

“oh yeah. i forgot to put this back in thefridge.” Sans picked up a cup of milk that already started to bubble in the smoldering,stuffy summer heat. “was gonna see if i could ferment this, but figured it’d bebetter to start another day.”

“DO YOU SEE HIM?”

“nope. call him.”

“MOOOOOOO!”

Sans’ eyesockets crinkled. “bro, are youpart cow?”

“NO.”

“because that impression was moo-ving.”

“STOP THIS.”

Then they heard it. A gasp. It was faint,but it was there.

“IS THAT…THE ATTIC???”

How did one child manage to maneuver aroundso easily? Humans were so tenacious! Neither of them could imagine raising oneof their own if they were all like this!

“MOOOOOO!”

“moooo.”

It was dark. How did he even navigate? Whenyou moved in with the brothers, there was so much extra stuff that it was allshoved up here. You and Sans promised to sort through it, but every time youwere both up here at the same time, you ended up just making a giant mess andleaving it worse off than when you came.

Papyrus nearly tripped over a giant chestfull of early courting gifts from him. You said they needed to be kept in asafe place, and that they were priceless, so they had to be stored away. Hebelieved you wholeheartedly, because you had wrapped them up in the softestblankets to shield them from dust and time. That and he caught you sneaking uphere sometimes just to admire them.

“bro, did you hear that?”

“HEAR WHAT?”

Sans froze. His eyesockets went dark.

“we’ve been cornered.”

Jumping out from the shadows, fingerssplayed and mouth opened wide, was Moo.

“Raaaah!”

Both of the brothers were surprised, butdid their best not to laugh. A tiny human in a cow costume roaring at them likea dinosaur was…probably the best thing they’d seen in weeks. It didn’t helpthat Moo charged toward them, bending down on all fours, the tiny tail sewn onhis backside flapping with every bounce toward them.

“PLEASE DON’T HURT US!” Papyrus cried.

But it was too late. Moo had conquered themboth, crawling on top of their toppled bodies and declaring himself as thewinner with a loud, long roar.

“alright, kiddo. let’s get you backdownstairs.” Sans plucked him off his chest and tucked him under an arm. “yougave us a big scare.”

“YOU COULD HAVE HURT YOURSELF…” Papyrusbegan. But after seeing the near teary look in Moo’s eyes, he recanted. “YOUWERE VERY BRAVE TO COME UP HERE BY YOURSELF. BUT NEXT TIME YOU SHOULD PLAY NEARUS, OKAY? WE WANT TO SEE MOO THE DINOSAUR UP CLOSE!”

All three of them headed back to the livingroom where Moo’s giant bag still sat untouched.

“I HAVE A COLORING BOOK I THINK YOU WOULDLIKE.”

“Crayons, please!”

“nice job, kid. use yer manners and you’llget far.”

“I SHOULD WASH HIS CLOTHING IN A FEW HOURS.HE LOOKS STICKY. OR IS THAT NORMAL FOR HIS AGE?”

Everything was okay after that. Some minorincidents – like Moo breaking a crayon and then throwing a tantrum despitebeing given the exact same color to use instead. The brothers had to muster up alltheir patience to deal with his screams and flailing limbs, but they managed toget him to stop wailing after a while.

In the end, the house was completelytrashed, but everyone was safe and sound.

You parked the car in the driveway andrummaged through the bag, grabbing a piece of candy to shove in your mouth. Ugh.What was supposed to be a quick trip to the store ended up being the biggestnightmare of your life. Long lines, rude customers, unorganized shelves, aclown blocking your nearest exit until you donated to his law school fund, andeven a broken traffic light that resulted in a twenty-minute detour through afuneral motorcade.

Needless to say, you were relieved to behome.

After gathering everything in your arms,you headed to the door. A smarter person would’ve called the brothers to letthem know that you were here, but you were so exhausted that the thought nevereven crossed your mind.

Knock. Knock.

“who’s there?”

“Sans.”

“sans who?”

“Sans, please let me in, my arms are goingnumb!”

“i don’t get it.”

“PERHAPS THE HUMOR LIES IN THE REALISM.”

“oh, ok.”

You heard him unlatch the door and youpractically burst in. “Someone please help me get these to the kitchen!”

Papyrus did more than that. He simplyscooped you up, bags and all, so that you were no longer crumbling under theircrushing weight. You were relieved to receive help, but gosh, it did bring a littlecolor to your cheeks when he easily carted you around like that.

He set you down in the middle of thekitchen. Without hesitation, you made your way into the fridge and startedshoving all sorts of snacks inside.

“So? How did it go, guys?”

Sans grinned. “eh, so boring.”

“What, really?”

“IT WAS…NEW.”

You peered over the fridge door. “I don’tknow if I like the sound of that. Where’s Moo?”

“NAPPING ON THE COUCH.”

“Wait, you guys actually got him to sleep?”

“he was kinda giving us a run for ourmoney, so it’s nice he decided to help us out with that.”

“Oh, no. Was he a handful?”

“heh. you decide.”

You blinked and stepped away from yourlittle comfort zone, only to fully drink in how destroyed the house was.

Yeah, it looked like a toddler had beenthrough here, all right. Everyone’s possessions poked and prodded. Annoying Dogeven had a balloon strapped to its tail, trying its best to run away from it asit hovered menacingly over its back. The walls had some minor scribbles hereand there, the carpet had splotches of (what you hoped was washable) paint,there were scraps of paper and a pair of kid scissors scattered along thefloor, and even Moo’s stuffed cow was completely soaked.

“Do I want to know?”

“not really.”

“WE HAD FUN, THOUGH.”

You sighed, relieved, and smiled at them.Your chest even felt a little tight. Ew, you were about to get sappy on them.Sugar overload.

“Thanks, guys. I’m really glad.”

“NOW YOU CAN HELP US WATCH OVER MOO FOR THEREST OF THE DAY!”

“yep.” Munch. “might as well include you onthe fun. ‘sides, you haven’t even seen how he pronounced the word ‘fantastic’.”Swallow.

“…why would he even say that in the firstplace?” you ventured. “Wait, never mind. The point is. You two were a hugehelp. I couldn’t have done this without you, and…I’m really looking forward tothe rest of Moo’s visit if I have both of you here with me.”

Papyrus’ eyesockets sparkled. Sans wasembarrassed, but shot you a cheesy grin anyway.

“Alright, when he wakes up, I’ll make him asnack plate. Sans, can you stop eating for a sec and hand me the FrootyTooties?”

“uh…whoops.”

[westmeath]

i'm new to the who, all i've listened to is quadrophenia and the odd song here & there off other albums. i know the most basic basics but other than that ? nothing. so what are some fun facts? interesting stories? important things fans should know? idk tell me what you'd say to a new fan

WHOOPS MY APOLOGIES I didnt see this till now, thank you so much for your ask!!! I’ll put this under a read more cause itll probably end up being very long, I hope I can get you more interested in them

its good youve listened to that much even, i hadnt listened to ANYTHING when i first got into them except like, the Iconic Songs (who are you, baba o riley, my generation, wont get fooled again, and id never even listened to those purposely i only knew em from just general knowledge), it actually took me quite a while to listen to their actual music cause i was more interested in the story of the band and its members for the first while

theyre one of the bands with the most interesting stories so i hope i can get you as interested in that aspect of them as i was when i first got into them (and still am, i go mad for any new stories i can hear about em, and love hearing different perspectives of stories ive heard before)

this is goin to be an utter mess i apologise, there are MANY many interesting stories but some off the top of my head are uh… well theres the iconic keith moons 21st birthday where he allegedly drove a lincoln continental into the swimming pool (this turned out to be a story keith made up though just for shock value)

that party was still amazing though, keith had actually left early cause hed chipped his tooth and was at some emergency dentist, it was mostly the rest of the guests at the party that wreaked havoc, eg just trashing the place, spraying fire extinguishers over cars in the car park that stripped all their paint, fairly sure it didnt end till the guards were called

i actually dont think any of the who were involved after keith left at all. john had gone with keith to the dentist, pete had gone to bed, not sure what roger was up to honestly but probably something the same as pete, despite this the who were Allegedly banned from holiday inns for life (but from what ive heard stayed in another one the next week and numerous times after)

heres another interesting story about him thats a bit lesser known, ill link it cause ive posted it before and also to save space

thinking about it, most stories that are widely told are to do with keith.. hes definitely the most interesting member of the band, in the words of uh. Many People hes just like no one else youve ever met, a very interesting character.. hes probably the main force behind my interest in the who in the beginning, i loved learning about his life the most (although that said i havent got a ‘favourite member’ of the band, i think theyre all incredibly cool and interesting and i love learning about all of them)

SORRY THIS IS already getting really long and i havent even scratched the surface… ill just say like, the whole band is full of really interesting characters, and its really interesting learning about all of them… like keith just for being absolutely different from everyone else, how above it all he really just did all his Wild Antics to make people laugh and be happy, seemingly at the cost of his own mental health (its believed he had bpd, and also obviously struggled with alcohol abuse and drugs too) (its more complicated than that though obviously but there is already a whole book delving into that subject and i fucking adore it if you want to read it, its called dear boy: the life of keith moon)

petes also incredibly interesting cause he was like.. the driving force of the band i suppose youd say. wrote (mostly) all the songs, came up with the stories behind tommy and quadrophenia (and lifehouse, which was so complicated no one could understand it, leading to him eventually having a breakdown and having to scrap the project, the songs on it eventually became whos next) its also really interesting (and quite sad) learning about his childhood and also his own struggles with mental health/alcohol (and drugs, hard drugs moreso in the 80s)

ill admit straight away that i dont know much about roger compared to the other members of the band, but hes interesting in his own way as well like, hes almost the complete opposite of the other members of the band in terms of alcohol/drug abuse, i dont think he ever went near drugs (except for a while in the early 60s, i believe), im not sure how he was with the drink but nowhere near as bad as the rest of the band probably. i know my dad likes him a lot cause hes a farmer (bought his farm in the early 70s with the wealth brought by the tommy album) which is something i can admire too seeing as im also a farmer although on a much smaller scale. hes also seemingly a really nice person (despite his love for a good punch up, in the early who days at least.) like hes very down to earth, working class, not all high and mighty like.. just very nice to listen to. would be excellent for a chat.

and johns interesting just cause hes a complete fucking mystery. according to pete he had no addictions except like. shopping.. he was called the “quiet one” even though he was far from it, just probably didnt really run his mouth (hardly ever spoke on stage but when he did it was always fantastic. eg him telling the crowd to “shuddup” in a death growl when theyre chanting for bell boy before a live recording of behind blue eyes) also he was probably the closest member to keith, went clubbing with him (a quote from keith is “I go to clubs with John. He’s big,”) a lot and often joined in with him when he was smashing up/exploding bits of hotel. also in terms of being an utter mystery like, theres not an awful lot known about his life, for example apparently he was a freemason “all his life” and pete never found out till after he died

i am so sorry this is TERRIBLY terribly long but listen i could go on about this even longer. ill stop now though cause its confusing enough already… please though if youve any questions about specifics or the likes please feel free to send more asks OR IF YOUD LIKE YOU CAN MESSAGE ME!!! id love to have a proper 1on1 convo where you can ask all the questions your heart desires and stop me if theres something youd like me to expand on and the likes. id absolutely love that

THAT GOES FOR ANYONE ELSE INTERESTED TOO!!! i fuckin love talking about the who and itd be fantastic to put my knowledge to use (and maybe learn a thing or too as well.) like either through tumblr messenger is grand (although i mightnt notice it for a while) or you can grab my skype or discord or somethin. even the messenger on twitter. my skype is fruity-pear, my discord is kaisuke#1387 and my public twitter is jjughead_ or my personal/friends one is kkaisuke

as a last thing for the “important things fans should know” UHH LIKE new fans id say like… if youre getting really deep into the story of the who be prepared cause theres a lot of bad stuff, sad stories as well as good ones. the band members all did some bad things like any other human, had bad things happen to them, like this is Real Life Shit and theres no sugar coating it, it really is worth it to learn about the band though and even the bad stuff is interesting to learn about, from an outsiders view

thank you again so so much and i apologise again for how long this is, i dont blame you if you dont read it all. i hope this is of some use to you though (or to anyone else) and that it makes you want to learn more about them

[wendyimmiller]

Fear, Loathing, Capitulation, Relapses, A Cry for Help, and Another Empty Promise to Do Better; In a world of unfairness and charlatans, these are the real things!

Déjà vu all over again. In what is apparently becoming an abusive relationship, I again find myself the victim of Marianne Willburn’s poison pen, which, I now believe she nightly wields in her dreams, inflicting dagger-sized wounds on a field of retreating lesser writers in Play Station-like battles. For again, right here on Garden Rant, my home turf, another rebuttal. Actually, a rebuttal to my rebuttal of her rebuttal to my happy, harmless, and humorous little column, “Time for A Grexit,” which appeared in the July/August 2019 Horticulture Magazine. Just a 500-word bit of sophomoric snark I dashed off last summer when I was still sweet and hopeful. It was cute. It was funny. And, despite itself, it did manage to make a surprisingly cohesive case for American gardeners taking all their English gardening books and dumping them into Boston Harbor. I was innocent back then, and my life was so much simpler. Appallingly, it turns out that having a stalker is nowhere near as much fun as you might imagine.

The end of life as I knew it.

The most recent blog site equivalent to being repeatedly chased down the street by your neighbor’s dog.

This most recent rebuttal wasn’t unexpected.  Red flags were up after her first rebuttal, and my family and I worried that Marianne could possibly be a serial-rebuttaler. I could see her in her classy, tastefully appointed, mountain retreat, seething from my jovial retort to her first rebuttal, and working. Working! I cowered, knowing she would soon, on a day of her own choosing, emerge with another 15,000 word tirade. All of it letter perfect and grammatically correct, and crafted to turn all my loved ones against me and laying waste to all I am, all I ever was, all I’ll ever be, and everything I’ve ever loved. Including all my dead pets. And all my dead Stewartia. And, I’ve got to admit, I’ve been a nervous wreck. Pretty much, this has been the worst period of my life, which includes the bout with cancer I mentioned in a previous missive and, in fact, bring up in almost all my conversations.

The rebuttal that came out of the blue.

This is my jovial retort to her first rebuttal. Jovial, yet at the same time devastating.

Here’s the deal. After my last rebuttal, I was out of ammo. I’d used up everything I had. No quotes left in the stockpile. No more references back in the magazine. No last cache of jabs, nudges, innuendo, and implications. Not even a dull, rusty bayonet on the end of my empty rifle/poison pen with which to inflict dagger-sized wounds. So I hunkered down in my ramshackle, mismatched, patched together, horticulturist-class, Midwestern hovel, tried not to notice the leaks in the ceiling and the paint peeling from the walls, and prayed for a miracle.

And, whatya know, I actually got one. Apparently Marianne was out of ammo too. So when the inevitable time came and I looked over and saw the grenade roll into my bunker and blow up, I was pleasantly surprised that it did so with only a soft doink. No blast. No shrapnel. No carnage. What happened was more akin to an uncomfortably loud airing of the “We Are the World” video interrupting your conversation in a bar. Or maybe it’s better described as something like hearing the “I’d Like to Buy the World a Coke” commercial playing on a scratchy transistor radio on a hot day by some kid in line ahead of you at the snack bar at the community pool who walks off with the last French Chew. Or maybe it was more like an overly-affectionate, dripping wet kiss from an older aunt with a weird accent right on the face of your much younger self. Whatever metaphor best describes my response to Marianne’s newest rebuttal–and you get to choose–the fact is that while indeed unpleasant and unwanted, I survived it.

But that doink? Came to find out it was pretty passive-aggressive. One that snuck back up on me after another day and a second look. “Garden Regionally, Get Inspired Globally” was Marianne’s banner, her battle cry and l’appel aux armes. Well, who the hell can argue with that?

Brian at work.

Marianne, you pulled a good one on me. Left me dangling and looking like a real jerk. Reminds me totally of a time when I introduced another friend/nemesis and co-worker named Brian to the audience at one of our symposiums at the Cincinnati Zoo & Botanical Garden. Our ongoing “feud” was pretty well-known to most of the audience, although not all of it, and I decided to deliver the most personally insulting introduction I could imagine, laying it on thick for an awkwardly long time, bringing up typically off-limits things like divorces, and, in my mind, generously setting him up for one of his patented hilarious ripostes. But he said nothing. Just went into his talk. With big sad eyes. Made me look like a complete asshole! A master stroke!

Yep, Marianne, you got me. You got to the reasonable position first and now here I am a rubber ball dangling from a string on your paddle. Well done.

As I’ve made plain, I am but a simple gardener from the heartland forever drawn by the magnetic pull of my next Big Gulp, teetering constantly on the cusp of diabetes, and free of an opioid addiction by reasons no one understands. As such, I too am not without need of nor appreciation for inspiration. So, for you Marianne, yes, if you get that from English writers who for some reason hope to cross how-to manuals with great literature, go for it. It’s kind of weird, but whatever. Just don’t be tricked into trying Meconopsis. It’ll break your heart.

I, on the other hand, I turn to the bottle for inspiration. And, believe it or not, I only discovered that about myself while pondering this. Ironically, it also occurred to me that my method might be even more cosmopolitan than Marianne’s! While plenty of good Kentucky bourbons are close at hand, I sometimes find my inspiration from a single malt Scotch. Or a spicy Caribbean rum. Or a sexy French vodka. Or a hot-tempered Greek Ouzo. Sometimes a warm Japanese sake is just the ticket, but there are times when a smooth Canadian whisky will do just fine. Or a Mexican tequila. Or wines from almost every continent. Even, and I’m gritting my teeth a little as I admit it, an English gin. Fact is, turns out pretty much the whole planet is lousy with spirits ready to light up the masses with inspiration. This whole revelation humbles me. It fills me with wonder. Heck, I’m but a tiny speck in this big Universe. All of us are. And maybe, deep down inside, somehow, we’re all pretty much the same.

I took that idea to bed with me last night. I laid there thinking about people. And Marianne. I pictured her in her home, sitting by the fire with a cat on her lap and a Christopher Lloyd book in hand, sighing at the better passages and finding inspiration. At least between those times when she’s not shrieking abuse towards Ohio and pounding out another manifesto of a rebuttal on her keyboard. Nope. I suppose that when she settles in and watches Monty Don on Netflix that she really isn’t that much different from me when I find my inspiration by stumbling around in the garden at night, a half empty fifth of Jameson in hand, condemning myself to damnation for all the neighbors to hear by way of whatever blaspheme I bellow when I discover brittle, dead branches where my daphne used to be.

A daphne.

Daphnes. My God, how many have I loved? How many I have lost. I feel my mood changing. You know, it just isn’t fair. I just can’t get over the disparity. The disproportionate distribution of the wealth. I’m thinking here in terms of gardening. Those lucky bastards. Those haughty English, PNW, and Japanese gardeners who ply their passion where the soil is rich, the weather is benevolent, and every person who scratches a mountain laurel into the ground gets drunk on their overnight and over-sized success. And they say to themselves, “I’m bloody great. I can grow everything.” And they take a creative writing class on Tuesday nights at the community college and peck out some frilly, freakin’ best seller!  Books that we here in the nether regions see in the windows of the five and dime, which draw us inside just to get out of the cold for a minute. But we slobber all over the pictures and the manager comes and makes us buy it, accepting a chicken and a few eggs as partial payment. Figuring that since we now own it, we might as well read it, we do. And then get all “inspired.” Then on the one half of that one spring day that’s sort of nice, we go out, religiously follow all the advice, and then invariably, inevitably, unsurprisingly experience the kind of catastrophic disaster that can only come when you live here and are daft enough to follow gardening advice from those who live over there. In God’s green Eden. In freakin’ Eden!

Wait. Whoa. What happened? It seems I’ve gone back down that rabbit hole. I apologize.

But, you know, there’s another thing that isn’t fair. Here in the continental part of the country, hard-working, decent, good gardening folk who can write and who really need a break never get brought in from the bullpen. Good writers, people who have willed lush, magnificent oases out of hardpan in weather that kills the people whose central air breaks on all but three or four days a year, never get that call from Timber or any other publisher. Why? Because all of their editors are tied up ushering dozens and dozens of spoiled English and PNW writers through their “masterpieces.” So-called gardeners for whom a daphne could fall off a truck and roll into their ditch and still grow like a Callery pear.

Another daphne.

Dammit. Angry again. Wait. I’ve got an idea.

I’d like to buy the world a home, And furnish it with love, Grow apple trees and honey bees, And…

 Well, that got annoying really quick. Screw it. I’ve got issues. I’m off to the liquor store.

            Fear, Loathing, Capitulation, Relapses, A Cry for Help, and Another Empty Promise to Do Better; In a world of unfairness and charlatans, these are the real things! originally appeared on GardenRant on November 20, 2019.

from Gardening https://www.gardenrant.com/2019/11/fear-loathing-capitulation-relapses-a-cry-for-help-and-another-empty-promise-to-do-better-in-a-world-of-unfairness-and-charlatans-these-are-the-real-things.html via http://www.rssmix.com/

[turfandlawncare]

Fear, Loathing, Capitulation, Relapses, A Cry for Help, and Another Empty Promise to Do Better; In a world of unfairness and charlatans, these are the real things!

Déjà vu all over again. In what is apparently becoming an abusive relationship, I again find myself the victim of Marianne Willburn’s poison pen, which, I now believe she nightly wields in her dreams, inflicting dagger-sized wounds on a field of retreating lesser writers in Play Station-like battles. For again, right here on Garden Rant, my home turf, another rebuttal. Actually, a rebuttal to my rebuttal of her rebuttal to my happy, harmless, and humorous little column, “Time for A Grexit,” which appeared in the July/August 2019 Horticulture Magazine. Just a 500-word bit of sophomoric snark I dashed off last summer when I was still sweet and hopeful. It was cute. It was funny. And, despite itself, it did manage to make a surprisingly cohesive case for American gardeners taking all their English gardening books and dumping them into Boston Harbor. I was innocent back then, and my life was so much simpler. Appallingly, it turns out that having a stalker is nowhere near as much fun as you might imagine.

The end of life as I knew it.

The most recent blog site equivalent to being repeatedly chased down the street by your neighbor’s dog.

This most recent rebuttal wasn’t unexpected.  Red flags were up after her first rebuttal, and my family and I worried that Marianne could possibly be a serial-rebuttaler. I could see her in her classy, tastefully appointed, mountain retreat, seething from my jovial retort to her first rebuttal, and working. Working! I cowered, knowing she would soon, on a day of her own choosing, emerge with another 15,000 word tirade. All of it letter perfect and grammatically correct, and crafted to turn all my loved ones against me and laying waste to all I am, all I ever was, all I’ll ever be, and everything I’ve ever loved. Including all my dead pets. And all my dead Stewartia. And, I’ve got to admit, I’ve been a nervous wreck. Pretty much, this has been the worst period of my life, which includes the bout with cancer I mentioned in a previous missive and, in fact, bring up in almost all my conversations.

The rebuttal that came out of the blue.

This is my jovial retort to her first rebuttal. Jovial, yet at the same time devastating.

Here’s the deal. After my last rebuttal, I was out of ammo. I’d used up everything I had. No quotes left in the stockpile. No more references back in the magazine. No last cache of jabs, nudges, innuendo, and implications. Not even a dull, rusty bayonet on the end of my empty rifle/poison pen with which to inflict dagger-sized wounds. So I hunkered down in my ramshackle, mismatched, patched together, horticulturist-class, Midwestern hovel, tried not to notice the leaks in the ceiling and the paint peeling from the walls, and prayed for a miracle.

And, whatya know, I actually got one. Apparently Marianne was out of ammo too. So when the inevitable time came and I looked over and saw the grenade roll into my bunker and blow up, I was pleasantly surprised that it did so with only a soft doink. No blast. No shrapnel. No carnage. What happened was more akin to an uncomfortably loud airing of the “We Are the World” video interrupting your conversation in a bar. Or maybe it’s better described as something like hearing the “I’d Like to Buy the World a Coke” commercial playing on a scratchy transistor radio on a hot day by some kid in line ahead of you at the snack bar at the community pool who walks off with the last French Chew. Or maybe it was more like an overly-affectionate, dripping wet kiss from an older aunt with a weird accent right on the face of your much younger self. Whatever metaphor best describes my response to Marianne’s newest rebuttal–and you get to choose–the fact is that while indeed unpleasant and unwanted, I survived it.

But that doink? Came to find out it was pretty passive-aggressive. One that snuck back up on me after another day and a second look. “Garden Regionally, Get Inspired Globally” was Marianne’s banner, her battle cry and l’appel aux armes. Well, who the hell can argue with that?

Brian at work.

Marianne, you pulled a good one on me. Left me dangling and looking like a real jerk. Reminds me totally of a time when I introduced another friend/nemesis and co-worker named Brian to the audience at one of our symposiums at the Cincinnati Zoo & Botanical Garden. Our ongoing “feud” was pretty well-known to most of the audience, although not all of it, and I decided to deliver the most personally insulting introduction I could imagine, laying it on thick for an awkwardly long time, bringing up typically off-limits things like divorces, and, in my mind, generously setting him up for one of his patented hilarious ripostes. But he said nothing. Just went into his talk. With big sad eyes. Made me look like a complete asshole! A master stroke!

Yep, Marianne, you got me. You got to the reasonable position first and now here I am a rubber ball dangling from a string on your paddle. Well done.

As I’ve made plain, I am but a simple gardener from the heartland forever drawn by the magnetic pull of my next Big Gulp, teetering constantly on the cusp of diabetes, and free of an opioid addiction by reasons no one understands. As such, I too am not without need of nor appreciation for inspiration. So, for you Marianne, yes, if you get that from English writers who for some reason hope to cross how-to manuals with great literature, go for it. It’s kind of weird, but whatever. Just don’t be tricked into trying Meconopsis. It’ll break your heart.

I, on the other hand, I turn to the bottle for inspiration. And, believe it or not, I only discovered that about myself while pondering this. Ironically, it also occurred to me that my method might be even more cosmopolitan than Marianne’s! While plenty of good Kentucky bourbons are close at hand, I sometimes find my inspiration from a single malt Scotch. Or a spicy Caribbean rum. Or a sexy French vodka. Or a hot-tempered Greek Ouzo. Sometimes a warm Japanese sake is just the ticket, but there are times when a smooth Canadian whisky will do just fine. Or a Mexican tequila. Or wines from almost every continent. Even, and I’m gritting my teeth a little as I admit it, an English gin. Fact is, turns out pretty much the whole planet is lousy with spirits ready to light up the masses with inspiration. This whole revelation humbles me. It fills me with wonder. Heck, I’m but a tiny speck in this big Universe. All of us are. And maybe, deep down inside, somehow, we’re all pretty much the same.

I took that idea to bed with me last night. I laid there thinking about people. And Marianne. I pictured her in her home, sitting by the fire with a cat on her lap and a Christopher Lloyd book in hand, sighing at the better passages and finding inspiration. At least between those times when she’s not shrieking abuse towards Ohio and pounding out another manifesto of a rebuttal on her keyboard. Nope. I suppose that when she settles in and watches Monty Don on Netflix that she really isn’t that much different from me when I find my inspiration by stumbling around in the garden at night, a half empty fifth of Jameson in hand, condemning myself to damnation for all the neighbors to hear by way of whatever blaspheme I bellow when I discover brittle, dead branches where my daphne used to be.

A daphne.

Daphnes. My God, how many have I loved? How many I have lost. I feel my mood changing. You know, it just isn’t fair. I just can’t get over the disparity. The disproportionate distribution of the wealth. I’m thinking here in terms of gardening. Those lucky bastards. Those haughty English, PNW, and Japanese gardeners who ply their passion where the soil is rich, the weather is benevolent, and every person who scratches a mountain laurel into the ground gets drunk on their overnight and over-sized success. And they say to themselves, “I’m bloody great. I can grow everything.” And they take a creative writing class on Tuesday nights at the community college and peck out some frilly, freakin’ best seller!  Books that we here in the nether regions see in the windows of the five and dime, which draw us inside just to get out of the cold for a minute. But we slobber all over the pictures and the manager comes and makes us buy it, accepting a chicken and a few eggs as partial payment. Figuring that since we now own it, we might as well read it, we do. And then get all “inspired.” Then on the one half of that one spring day that’s sort of nice, we go out, religiously follow all the advice, and then invariably, inevitably, unsurprisingly experience the kind of catastrophic disaster that can only come when you live here and are daft enough to follow gardening advice from those who live over there. In God’s green Eden. In freakin’ Eden!

Wait. Whoa. What happened? It seems I’ve gone back down that rabbit hole. I apologize.

But, you know, there’s another thing that isn’t fair. Here in the continental part of the country, hard-working, decent, good gardening folk who can write and who really need a break never get brought in from the bullpen. Good writers, people who have willed lush, magnificent oases out of hardpan in weather that kills the people whose central air breaks on all but three or four days a year, never get that call from Timber or any other publisher. Why? Because all of their editors are tied up ushering dozens and dozens of spoiled English and PNW writers through their “masterpieces.” So-called gardeners for whom a daphne could fall off a truck and roll into their ditch and still grow like a Callery pear.

Another daphne.

Dammit. Angry again. Wait. I’ve got an idea.

I’d like to buy the world a home, And furnish it with love, Grow apple trees and honey bees, And…

 Well, that got annoying really quick. Screw it. I’ve got issues. I’m off to the liquor store.

            Fear, Loathing, Capitulation, Relapses, A Cry for Help, and Another Empty Promise to Do Better; In a world of unfairness and charlatans, these are the real things! originally appeared on GardenRant on November 20, 2019.

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