#George Veale

[currymanganese]

If Claire hadn't heard Carmy in the walk-in

This would be their lot in life:

[bluth-of-the-dragon]

2x16, “Meat the Veals”

George Michael: I'm thinking of asking Ann to get pre-engaged.

Lindsay: You are?

George Michael: Yeah. I feel like God moved her here from Ohio to be with me.

George: Her?

[mitjalovse]

Patti Labelle's solo career didn't show much promise as her early albums, such as It's Alright With Me, do present her as a professional, but that is about all. Look, one could assume she had a case of where-to-go after her being a part of a successful group for so long. To be honest, she was and is not the only one with these problems, because one can tell how tough one can strike on one's own. Still, she kept getting better at her work, which also meant she gained more chances thanks to that. However, she didn't reach her potential until later, though we shouldn't dismiss the LPs we discuss. They do present us with someone who is unsure on herself, yet when she noticed what she could be all about? She went there to show that.

[ninthwonderoftheworld]

George...... dont.... do this to me.......

[sweetcherrybmb]

MAMÁ Y PAPÁ //TW\\ part two

pairing: toto wolff x bakeryowner!reader

description: coffee is a morning ritual that toto can't skip... so when a new bakery opens near the mercedes-amg HQ, he can't help, but pay a visit...

faceclaim: various pinterest girls

y/nsweets

liked by lewishamilton, georgerussell63 and 965,147 others

y/nsweets haven't posted the children in a while, now have i?

user1 so majestic!!

user2 they're adorable

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toto_wolff

liked by y/nsweets, lewishamilton and 154,236 others

toto_wolff is this how it's done, schatzi? @.y/nsweets

y/nsweets you kinda messed it up, but who cares?

toto_wolff im sorry, wont happen next time y/nsweets there is no next time, people know now toto_wolff oops

lewishamilton he's lost, someone help him

georgerussell63 he's beyond help mate

user3 TOTO??!! CON WAS RIGHT!!??

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y/nsweets

liked by toto_wolff, lewishamilton and 965,412 others

y/nsweets him<3

toto_wolff 💙

y/nsweets <3

user4 uhmmmm THE MESSEGES!!??

user5 MR. WOLFF??!! THE TEXTS???

user6 someone coming to jump with me? i'll pick you up

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y/nsweets

liked by toto_wolff, georgerussell63 and 963,214 others

y/nsweets i fear we're parenting too hard

user7 i see where george gets his style from

user8 him and carmen defo have them in their little moodboards

user9 ate!

user10 devoured even! user11 and left no crumbs

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toto_wolff

liked by y/nsweets, lewishamilton and 987,455 others

toto_wolff missing the missus

user12 toto what??

user13 i bet its either george or y/n running his insta, cause sir?? user14 istg georgerussell63 lewis suggested the caption and i approved user12 what??!! this is absolute chaos

y/nsweets miss you too<3

toto_wolff 💙

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sfos_bakery

liked by lewishamilton, toto_wolff and 976,845 others

sfos_bakery if you ask us, blueberry season has already started!

lewishamilton @.georgerussell63 @.toto_wolff she's trying to make us jealous

sfos_bakery is it working?? toto_wolff too well, they went looking for blueberry muffins they bought last night sfos_bakery did they find them?? georgerussell63 bono ate them this morning, lewis is looking for him now

user13 bono eating their muffins and lewis is now looking for him? what's he gonna do?

user14 probably send him to buy them more georgerussell63 bono brought a dozen as compensation for the 3 he ate user13 not george giving us updates

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sfos_bakery

liked by toto_wolff, lewishamilton and 965,441 others

sfos_bakery guess what, melbourn!

user15 omg, what?!

user16 she really is an icon for this user17 imagine just going somewhere and doing a pop-up, unexpected user18 i mean... its a pretty good idea, they're traveling and expanding, she gets to see the merc gang (toto) and the drivers get fresh baked goods, as well as others

user19 just passed by you guys, will stop on my way back!!

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sfos_bakery

liked by lewishamilton, mercedesamgf1 and 962,144 others

sfos_bakery we had a blast this weekend at @.mercedesamgf1 office, celebrating the recent successes, but i think we won't be doing catering anymore

mercedesamgf1 the cookies we amazing, you should start selling them

sfos_bakery they're our normal sugar cookies... mercedesamgf1 yeah, but these have the mercedes logo on 'em sfos_bakery nuh-uh, i spent far too long on each of them to be doing it on a large scale

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y/nsweets

liked by lewishamilton, georgerussell63 and 962,148 others

y/nsweets off to summer break... sardinia, anyone?

user20 toto's shoulders will be the death of me...

user21 right like... mans is too fine...

user22 what was he thinking about in that last pic????

y/nsweets he was debating within him if we should have fish or veal for dinner user22 which was it?? y/nsweets chicken, i ended up not feeling either of the options

user23 wait if she's in sardinia... who's running the bakery

user24 a collective vacay, they all go at the same time so the bakery is sadly closed

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TAGS

@yllomhej @walldemons @shelbyteller @reidsworld @pear-1206

@noooway555 @cheyxfu

if anybody else wants to be tagged, send me a DM or an ask!

[harrisonarchive]

Photo by Arnold Newman.

“[W]e built a little studio at home to save the drive up and down the M4. And the studio is really very nice — little plug for Eddie Veale of Audiotech because he did a fantastic job and it sounds really nice. You know, because most home studios have a lot of trouble, you know. And it’s not really practical in some cases for people to have a home studio.” - George Harrison, Capital Radio, 1974 “Of all the former ‘Fabs,’ to use his customary term, George Harrison has remained the greatest creative homebody. […] George has rolled out of bed and returned again and again to Friar Park Studios, Henley-on-Thames (or F.P.S.H.O.T., for short) to tinker, compose and do his formal recording. […] Besides 'Cloud Nine,’ George recorded the 'Dark Horse,’ '33 1/3’ and 'George Harrison’ albums in his F.P.S.H.O.T. atelier, located in what was formerly a ballroom of the house. 'The studio was installed round 1971 and there’s been a few updates, cause when I originally put the studio in it was a 16-track. In terms of the monitoring system, after all those years in the Abbey Road EMI Studios, I put in Altec speakers. My experience in Abbey Road was that whenever the Beatles worked there and we thought we had a great sound, we’d play it back on the Altecs and it sounded terrible — ordinary. So they’re very boring in a way — and this must sound strange — but they’re also accurate! See, the Altecs don’t flatter the sound; it’s not easy to get good bass and drum sounds with them. But when I built my studio I didn’t want hype. I wanted what I’m hearing to be what it is. That way, when you play it back anyplace else it sounds fantastic! […] I’ve since made F.P.S.H.O.T. into a 24-track board. […] I’m going to get a few different choice modules made soon, but I don’t really want to go for a brand new SSL board and all that. Automation is nice in some respects, but I got my first skills at Abbey Road, so I prefer the old components, and spending a friendly weekend getting the manual mix you want. Just as I much prefer my ancient Fender Strat.’” - Musician, November 1987 (x)

[chaoticdesertdweller]

An original design doodle for an Apple Records LP label by George Harrison, pencil and felt pens, circa 1969, with self-portrait George Harrison sitting under an apple tree, with handwritten album title George Harrison, publisher credit BMI. Harrisongs and gag track listings in black ink 1 Hello Dolly, 2 Perfida, 3 Mrs Harrison, 4 Ballad of Eddie Veale, 5 Fuck Of Dolly 6 Ballad of Eddie Klein

4 in. (10.1 cm.) diam.

From the upcoming Christie's auction of "The Collection of Pattie Boyd"

[hellofanidea]

Dealers choice 43 and 47 on the clothes prompt list 👀

A bloodstained uniform + Rolled up shirtsleeves, Arthur Foster (MOTA AU)

The second raid over Bremen kills Blue Moon's navigator.

All it takes is some well placed flak and George Hatch is knocked out of his seat and onto his ass, screaming about the holes in him. His blood gets all over the maps, and it's nothing short of a miracle that they actually make it back to Thorpe Abbotts.

His blood also gets all over Arthur, who spends the last half of their mission trying to hold his insides together. It doesn't work. Hatch is dead before Blue Moon lowers her landing gear.

They have to peel him out of Arthur’s arms.

He doesn't move after, just stays staring at the spot where he was, the holes in the side of the fort where the killing blow entered. Morse has to come back in and bodily drag him out by his harness. He slides out like a newborn foal, gets a face full of tarmac when his knees don't work, and feels himself get scruffed into the truck waiting to take them to interrogation like a disobedient dog.

Their co-pilot is being taken away in an ambulance with a fucked up leg, along with their waist gunner and radioman. None of the others can look at him. Arthur can’t blame them. He’s stained red from chin to knee. His nose had crunched when he’d fallen out of the fort, and now he can feel the blood from that slowly trickling down his face to join Hatch’s.

The Clubmobile girls, usually so unflappable, blanche when they see him. Doc Stover grabs for him, but Arthur waves him off, wiping at his nose with his sleeve despite the blinding pain it brings.

“S not mine. ‘S not mine. ‘S Georgie’s.”

Stover lets him go, but Tatty pulls him aside by the elbow, forces a glass of whiskey into his hands, and doesn’t let go until he’s knocked it back. It mixes poorly with the metallic taste in the back of his mouth, but the burn is comforting.

“Thanks,” he murmurs to her, and hopes she knows how much he means it.

Hatch's logs are, understandably, incomplete. Arthur reads out what he can of them. Stutters, and stumbles, and the pity in Red's face as he listens is worse than any frustration at his incompetence. He wants somebody to yell at him, shake him, tell him to get a grip on himself. He needs somebody to come rip him out of the hazy, distant, place he's been sunk into since Hatch had wheezed his last into his neck.

Jimmy Douglass would have done it. Would have rattled him by the shoulders until some sense had been knocked back into his fellow bombardier, and then dragged him along to the O Club to take his mind off of things. Would have cracked a shitty joke and nudged him to dance with a Red Cross girl until the pain was back to its usual dull ache.

Douglass isn’t here though, like the rest of the crew of Just-a-Snappin’, like the crew of Our Baby, like the six other forts that went down. Eighty men. Eighty one including Lieutenant George Edgar Hatch, navigator and son and husband and father.

He’d never even held Abigail. She’d been born after they shipped to England, six pounds and seven ounces and with a head full of hair, and they had drunk Norfolk dry toasting her.

Arthur doesn’t hear the dismissal, but Morse’s hand is more gentle this time when she guides him by his collar.

“C’mon,” she says. “Let's get you cleaned up.”

She leads him out of the hut, and he’s barely cognizant of his surroundings until he hears a hissed ‘Jesus Christ!’ from the group of men huddled by one of the doors. Veal and Bubbles are staring at him with open horror, Crank’s crew not looking much happier even though they’d already seen him in interrogation.

“‘S not mine,” Arthur mutters again, sniffing and swallowing a blood clot he really should have spit onto the grass.

“You feeling alright?” Crank asks cautiously.

“Peachy.” This time when he sniffs he does spit, turning away and shooting the vivid red glob between his teeth. “Fuckin’ aces, Charlie.”

“I got him, he’s fine,” Morse says firmly, taking him by the elbow and marching them away.

He needs a shower. Some more whiskey. A nap. His father to rise from the dead and be in England so he can pet his hair and tell him how to live through a man dying in his arms.

The irony of that last one isn’t lost on Arthur. Thomas Foster didn’t live through that either, it just took him a while to die.

Getting a shower at least is feasible. One bonus of walking around the base looking like something out of a nightmare is that when he steps into their block it very quickly empties out, and Morse stands a vicious guard at the door whilst he scrubs off the now dried blood and changes into his uniform. It helps him feel a little more human, even with the blossoming bruise on his nose and the black eyes that will rise any time soon.

His flight gear is pretty much ruined, especially the sheepskin, which has gone a muddy pink and looks distressingly like rotting meat. Smells it, too, and Arthur abandons it all after emptying the pockets. There’s blood on his pack of smokes, and he considers tossing them out of spite, but the craving wins out so he lights one as he waits outside for Morse to clean herself up. With his face tilted up towards the sky the last dregs of blood and mucus slip down his throat. He chainsmokes away the taste until Morse emerges, hair still damp but neatly combed. Unflappable as ever, his pilot.

“I’m gonna go to the hospital, check on the boys. You comin’?” She asks.

Normally Arthur would say yes without hesitation, but this time he actually thinks about it. Then he shakes his head.

“Naw. Give ‘em my love, though. Think I’m gonna sack out for a while.”

Morse gives him a long, searching, look, then nods.

“Course. Get some rest. I’ll swing by our racks later, make sure you get some dinner.”

Arthur isn’t sure he can stomach anything, but thanks her anyway. She splits off to medical, and Arthur makes his way back to the barracks. There's a mostly full flask slid down the side of his locker he should be able to get away with drinking until he knocks out. Maybe that way he'll be too out of it when she comes around.

Marta's already sitting on his bunk when he gets there. Not a hair out of place as usual, except for how her jacket is off and her sleeves are rolled above her elbows, even in the chill of an English October. There’s a sketchpad and pencil in her lap, with a figure Arthur can’t make out yet.

For a brief, fierce, moment he hates her. Hates her for being here, for seeing him, knowing him. Hates her even temper and pragmatism and the sad way she looks at him from behind her glasses.

“Not sure you're meant to be here,” he tells her dryly, staying by the door like that will save him from whatever conversation she might want to have.

“Not sure you're the person to make that argument,” Marta shoots back, just as flatly. Then her mouth twists uncomfortably. “Saw you get back. Heard about your navigator. Wanted to see how you are.”

“I'm fine. You can tell Esther that, too.”

“Tell her yourself. I ain't got the time to talk about you in my letters.”

That makes Arthur snort. Some of the tension he hadn't known he was carrying leaches from his shoulders.

“I ain't been good at keeping up with her recently,” he admits. Not since before Regensburg, at least. He’s found it harder and harder to carry a conversation with her, to share jokes and stories and pretend that it’s all still just a game. Frowning, he adds, “I need to write Georgie's family.”

“Thought that was Kidd's job?”

“Yeah, but…” Arthur shakes his head. “I was with him, Marta. I was… I held him. When he went. That’s… I owe him that.”

Marta doesn’t say anything, but she shuffles up his bunk a little, and he gives into the aches in his body that tell him to sit down beside her. Hatch’s rack is the one beside his, and he stares long and hard at the blanket. His footlocker is gone already, swept away to the orderly hut to be shipped back to his folks in Queens. Arthur doesn’t know everything in it, but there aren’t enough trinkets and letters in the world to make a whole picture of George Hatch, to replace him at his mother’s table and in his wife’s bed and in his little girl’s life.

They sit. Arthur smokes. Marta carries on with her sketch. Outside, the sun fades. 

Eventually, Marta breaks the silence.

“They're talking about sending you to the Flak House.”

“What? Who?”

“Major Bowman was talking to Smokey about it. Said you didn't look good in interrogation.”

Yeah, no shit. I still had my friend’s blood on my hands.

Maybe a trip to the Flak House wouldn’t be the worst thing. It was treasonous to admit it outloud, but he had been able to feel himself fraying at the edges since Algeria, since it became abundantly clear that Escape Kit wasn’t making its way over the horizon or back to base. Some time not sitting behind a bombsight might be good for him.

Then he remembers how many forts they just lost, how many crews. Their names and faces overwhelm him momentarily, one above the rest despite the way Arthur’s been steadfastly refusing to think about him between Hatch dying in his arms and hearing that Just-a-Snappin’ had bailed.

He’s not dead. Can’t be. Arthur doesn’t have that same roiling dread in the pit of his stomach that he did over Curt’s absence, and he’s willing to trust that superstition just to keep himself level. His name will appear on the next list of POWs, or he’ll vanish for weeks and then reappear after finding his way through France. Those are the only options Arthur can contemplate without clawing his own face off.

The thought of being trapped with those two scenarios (and their unspeakable third) for an unspecified time at Coombe House, where he is certain to have far too much time to dwell on them - and every other terrible thing to happen in his cursed fucking life - is completely unbearable. He’d rather shake apart here, in private, and keep himself up in the air in the meantime. They were going to have to drag him out of that fort feet first, just like Hatch.

“They won’t,” Arthur tells Marta. “Too few crews as it is, nobody will be going anywhere until the next batch of replacements make it in.”

“Yeah, well, once they do I’d say you're high on the list for sending out. Just thought I’d let you know.”

His earlier flash of hatred for her smolders shamefully in his guts. Sweet, perfect, Marta, who knows him too well. Knows his ways of running and hiding like a sick animal and lets him get away with it, like she lets him get away with so much else. He nudges her knee with his own in thanks, and she kicks him in the calf in return. For a brief moment he feels like a child again, and the bittersweetness of the sensation makes his eyes burn.

Some time later he is being shaken awake. He rolls over to knock Morse's hand off of his shoulder and buries his face more in the pillow with a groan. Marta had left him to his letter writing with a quick press of her head to his, and he had swiftly started on emptying his flask, a task only left unfinished by his falling asleep.

“C'mon, sleepyhead, I don't get a welcome back?”

It takes a moment for the voice to penetrate. Then Arthur is springing up, nearly tripping over the mattress and his own legs in his haste to get upright. Wild eyed, he fixes on Blakely, standing smiling by his rack like he hasn't just materialized from the ether.

Gagged by sleep and whiskey and confusion, Arthur surges forward to wrap his arms around him. Real. Warm. Holding him back. Arthur barely checks there's nobody around before pulling back to land a desperate, smacking, kiss against his mouth.

“Fuck, oh fuck,” he breathes. “Jesus, Ev, what the fuck-”

“Easy, there,” Ev is laughing, gentling him with a hand down his side. “I'm alright. We made it back.”

“Fuck,” Arthur spits one last time. Then he turns them and pushes him onto his bed by his shoulders. “Sit down, sit down, Jesus, are you insane? Have you been to medical?”

Without letting him answer, he kneels in front of him, starts really checking him over. Miraculously it seems like Ev’s in one piece, aside from the usual scratches and bruises they all come back with. Arthur runs his thumb over the largest graze visible, the one that has smeared a thick line of red over his nose.

Having sat patiently through the hurried examination, Ev reaches out to brush at Arthur's own face. It’s an effort to not flinch away, the puffy soreness of the skin around his eyes having settled in properly by now.

“What happened here?” Asks Ev.

“Fell outta my fort when we landed,” Arthur admits sheepishly. “Broke my nose on the runway.”

Ev tries valiantly not to laugh, but fails, and Arthur can't help but join him, dropping his forehead onto his knees. He's still in his flight suit. It smells of smoke, and sweat, and comfort. Arthur breathes deep, tries to calm his racing heart and spinning mind, tries to bottle up the screaming cocktail of feelings that wants him to pin Ev down and tell him in great, emotive, detail how deeply fucked he thought he was going to be without him. They clog his throat, jostle for dominance, pinwheel him between joy and fury and grief until a kind of numbness wins.

“Hatch is dead,” Arthur says hollowly, not raising his head.

The laughter above him stops, and a hand touches the back of his head.

“So's Saunders.”

Neither says anything for a long moment.

“I'm glad you're not,” Arthur finally adds. If he says anything else it’ll all come spilling out, and that can’t happen, not ever. For both of their sakes.

The fingers in his hair curl, then release.

“Me too.”

[busycucumbermelon]

Dear’s new favorite soul 

Summary: befriending, a cannibal boy from cannibal colony by your house, seems to have brought an an unwelcome obsessed dear to your doorstep with a big smile 

Pairing:Alastor x reader

You leave the porn studio you work at the door, chiming behind you as usual. You stretch out, your dog ears flopping down on top of your head as always.

"Hello! Are we going straight home today?"

The sound of the little cannibal boy makes you jump in surprise. It's almost as if he likes scaring you!

"God, George, you have to stop that!” You didn’t know living so close to a cannibal colony would cause so many visits from the little boy. You thought it would be good since people often stayed away from there and you didn’t mind all the gore they brought with them.

“Oh sorry, what are we eating tonight?” Yep that’s George as always – he was a cannibal. He had a hunger for meat, but he always asks what the two of you were going to eat, always making it your decision.

"I'm not really sure. What do you want, George?" You and the little boy started walking back in the direction of the supermarket. You had to pick up a few things for your own dinner.

You looked at George in confusion. He had never brought up veal before. You knew he liked chicken and goats, but never veal.

"Ohhh, what's with the sudden change?"

"Well, Rosie had one of her friends over, and they were talking about how it was really good meat, and I want to try it."

It was really sweet that the boy wanted to try something new with you, but personally, you weren't a big fan of eating raw meat. You had kind of had your heart set on tacos.

"Oh, George, I love to try that with you, but maybe Rosie would try it with you. I just think we're gonna have tacos tonight."

George gave you a small head tilt, his way of saying "what's tacos?"

Your eyes widened slightly as you looked out at him. You knew he had never been a part of the human world, but you were sure tacos existed here.

"You've never had tacos before. Well, that's OK. We'll have some tonight and at home. We have leftovers from last night. if you don’t like it"

George smiled and nodded.

At the market, George hung on your leg, and you could feel a few eyes on you. It was certainly out of the ordinary for a kid from the cannibal colony to be hanging on to some random sinner, but no one would come up to make a comment.

Partly, because if anyone stepped too close, George's face would mutate, his teeth sharpening, the sides of his mouth splitting open, and the whites of his eyes turning red. It was kind of like his warning to stay away from his caretaker.

You finished talking to the man in front of you and handed him some money for lettuce, tomatoes, and cheese. Despite you not knowing it, the man took more than half off your order because George was staring at him, just daring him to make you pay full price.

Although his face was always sweet with you, "It's time to go home. You ready?"

George nods his head excitedly. He knows you're much more yourself when others aren't around.

While you were turned around looking for the best ingredients, George had waved to a man behind you, Alastor. He came just to buy meat, but when he saw George hanging all over you, he couldn't help but stop and stare. A part of him was intrigued. George wasn't nice to everyone – in fact, he practically hated everyone in the colony – but with you, he was the sweetest little cannibal ever.

You made George smile, something he had never seen before. Your smile. Well, that was nothing he could sneeze at

“Yes, Rosie, I heard you needed me for some urgent matter." Alastor switched the hand he was holding his microphone and dusted off his coat before turning his attention back to Rosie.

"Yes yes. Thank you for meeting on such short notice, Alastor. It's just George has been missing more and becoming more hostile with others. I'm not so sure what to do about it."

"May I ask how this is different from usual?" Alastor respected his dear friend, Rosie's opinion, but George seemed normal overall at the colony and himself at the market. Well, normal to everyone else besides that wolf sinner that he was clinging to.

"Well, yes, on the surface. But I just realized, when I thought George was just coming home late, he wasn't coming home at all the other day. A few of the woman asked where he was, and he snapped at them."

"Now that I think about it, I did see him in the market a little while ago. He seemed to be with a sinner he like quite a bit. He showed no hostility to her.”

“What did she look like? I've heard a few of the girls talking about George always going out to meet a certain sinner," Rosie asked, Al thought back to the market. Although he only gave you a few spare glances, he could still describe you in detail. It was the happiest he had seen George. He even smiled

Before Alastor could go into any detail, Rose cut him off. "Actually, could you just look and make sure he's okay and could you just have your shadows keep an eye on him for the rest of the night?"

Alastor sighed a little, thinking about how much of a hassle it would be. He didn't have anything else planned tonight. Just checking the hotel to make sure everything was running smoothly. It wouldn't be too much of a trouble he supposed. "It will owe you," Alastor smiled, his smile widening

You started cooking the meat on the stove, George clinging to your leg and grabbing raw pieces of meat here and there. Alastor shadows flashing around the city, landing in front of your kitchen window. There's so many dog demons. The main thing they were looking for was George, though it wasn't hard. Alastor had one of his shadows following you the minute he laid eyes on the two of you.

George's eyes narrowed the first time the shadows flashed past your kitchen window. You were too busy trying to focus on your food and on a podcast playing in the background. It was something about the Hazbin Hotel and what the executioners in heaven would think.

George's nails started to dig into your thigh when you weren’t paying attention to him. It was so random, that you couldn’t help but look down at him in pure confusion. You turned to see George staring directly out the window. You look up, but there’s nothing there – just the city and sinners below. It’s only the fourth floor up. You’re not that high, but it’s still kind of a nice view.

Maybe he was simply getting impatient or nervous about trying a new food. “George, do you want to sit in the living room while I finish making the food? You can change it to whatever channel you want. I’m not really interested in what’s on now.”

George looks up at you with mild confusion but after staring at you for a little while, he clings closer to your leg, burying his face into the side of your hip. The corners of his eyes flick over to the window. He swears he has seen those shadows somewhere… they’re so familiar…

After staring out the window for a little while, George finally wanders into the living room, leaving you to cook in peace. Two of the shadows follow George into the living room while the other three stayed in the kitchen. Two of them couldn't help but admire you, you were pretty. They had to admit. alastor had never had a partner. Sure, people were interested in him, but you were the only person that didn’t have to be killed afterward. It was nice to just admire someone without having to think of killing them.

While the other two were too busy admiring all your features, the third one was left to itself. It had never seen you before; surely you would be one of the sinners that come to the hotel. You were so sweet and kind. It was hard to believe that you were the type to commit murder. You seemed way too motherly to George to be coldhearted. Truthfully, it was a little sad. Alastor would corrupt you in his own sick way, making a deal with you and making you one of his “ponds”.

"George, the tacos are done." You kneeled down to let George take a bite out of the taco just because you didn't know if he would like it at all. It was just the basics with cheese and sour cream. He chewed it slowly, not really sure how he felt about it. He didn't spit it out, but he simply chewed slowly at it. He sniffed it a few times before taking another bite. You knew not to talk to George while he was eating. The entire time was for him to decide if he liked the food or if a texture was off.

You sighed softly, happy that George was eating it. Well, for the time being. He went to the living room with his taco and sat down next to the couch. You never knew why he didn’t sit down until you sat down yourself. After making another basic taco for George, you made yourself two tacos of your own. It was nice having an almost family moment with George. However, once you got into the room and saw George was done with his taco, he already had his fingers licked clean, and he was eyeing you with big eyes for a second.

Before you can question George, your eyes catch a flash of darkness go past the window behind him. It was fast and almost as if someone had been thrown past of the window. However, you couldn't make out any color, any blood, nothing.

"Y/n?" George tugs on your sleeve and climbs up on the couch next to you, cuddling into your side. Though he usually got clingy when he was tired, it seemed that he was less tired and more nervous. You’ve never seen George nervous; he always seems so comfortable around you.

"Yeah, what's up, kid?" You took another bite of your taco as you settled onto the couch. You moved your hand and scratched in between George's horns, gave him a ruffle on his red hair. He seemed to calm down with it.

"I know you try to stay away from the colony, but..." George went silent as he looked for the right words. He never speaks up again. Just kept staring out the window as alastors shadows slowly creep into the room.

"George, if you want to stay around with the colony more, I'm OK with that. I'm sure everyone wants to see you as much as I do."

George looks up at you with almost a sense of betrayal – how dare you ever think that he didn’t want to be around you? Yes, he wants you to meet the colony but he wants you to be comfortable. If alastor is there, though, he doesn’t want you to be scared or overwhelmed…

"No, I want to. I want… can you meet someone from the colony?"

You giggle at George’s nervous face. You would do anything for the boy, even if it meant going out of your comfort zone.

“Of course George. Just, I’m not meeting alastor if that’s what you want. I’d meet anyone else from the colony.”

That was a blatant lie. If he wanted, you would certainly meet alastor.

Just as you said his name, the shadows disappeared, and in place, a yellow wide smile replaced the shadows. His red eyes were directly behind the two of you, staring at the sweet display. He had just finished his talk with Rose. She was going to be thrilled to meet you. Truthfully, he couldn’t wait until he properly met you, either. Maybe the two of you could make a deal.

He wasn't certain either, though it would be nice having you under his control. If anything, you were pretty, and your soul would be a precious addition to his collection of other sinners’ souls.

George was quite quick to devour all the meat off the taco you had set out. The two of you spent the rest of the night watching movies and George telling you endless stories to make you have a good opinion on Rosie, though you already did have a good opinion of her. He had no need to tell you the stories, but it was nice to hear them.

The two of you ended up falling asleep on the couch together, a bit odd considering that George usually complained until you slept with him in your bed. It wasn't hard to carry George around on your hip even while you made morning coffee. You stared out the window while standing by the sink, taking a moment to stare out at the city before remembering that today was your day off. You had plenty of time to enjoy George.

George sat up and looked around, still disoriented from sleep and when he saw you. Immediately, he tucked his head back into the side of your neck and went back to sleep. As your morning had been chosen for you, he wouldn't let you go. You were forced to hold him until he decided he was up and ready for the day.

Around noon, George sat up and cuddled into you, whining about how hungry he was. George acted like a true baby around you, throwing a fit if anyone else was holding him, though with you, he didn’t care. He loved waking up to you, too, since he always spent his nights with you.

After George got something to eat, he remembered your promise from yesterday about meeting Rose.

"y/n, we should go meet Rosie today!"

George jumped up and down well you were busy trying to multitask. You were watching a movie, cleaning the bathroom, and figuring out your work schedule since your boss kept trying to over schedule you. It was the first time you had ever put your foot down about it since George had gotten upset the last weekend when you told him that he couldn’t stay the night because you had to work.

"I don't know… maybe Rosie is busy. I don’t want to bother her. She has an entire colony she’s taking care of," you replied. George pouted and stopped jumping. He stared directly into your eyes. He looked like he was about to burst into tears.

"y/n, you promised me."

"Yeah I know baby. I know that I promised you, but there’s a lot going on right now. Give me a little bit, and we'll go ok?”George nodded his head

After you had finished everything, you were absolutely exhausted. You threw yourself down on the couch. Normally, you would have heard a giggle from George or him running over to jump on your lap after seeing you. However, nothing. You looked around quickly, but there was no George. Did he go back to the colony out of anger? You were going to go, you'd promised him. A promise, or at least one concerning George, was something you would never break. After a little while, you lit a candle and just sat down. You were so exhausted.

You laid for a little while in silence, hearing a light knock from somewhere close and much lighter than the door. You shut off the lights a while ago because they were beginning to irritate your eyes. The only thing you could hear before that was the flame from the candle slowly eating away at the wick. You saw a little glimpse of red hair before George jumped on you. hearing his giggles confirmed that your guess was correct.

Behind George, you saw another shadow. It was much taller than George, and your eyes adjusted a lot quicker now. It was a woman in a big hat with feathers, a short bob cut, and black eyes. She had black lips and wore an old-fashioned dress. You could tell immediately that it was Rosie. While she was nice, she was an Overlord like all of the rest of them. Your knowledge of her was limited to the good things you had heard. You knew that she was kind, but that didn't mean she wasn't in seek of power either.

“hey sorry to wake you here. George is so adamant I come see you now." Rosie walked a little closer to you so that you could see her a little bit better.

"I had a feeling that's what was going to happen," she spoke.

George was looking back and forth between the two of you, a small smile still on his face. The smile has stayed for much longer than is normal.

Seeing Rosie in front of you wasn't very frightening, really. It was like sitting down in front of one of the parents of the kids you used to babysit when you were alive. During the babysitting sessions, parents would routinely give you lengthy background checks, and at the end of the night, sometimes angry fathers would even threaten you if anything happened to their "poor babies." You never let anything happen, though. That would be unthinkable. The situation with Rosie was much more risky. It wasn't simply a threat of bad parenting. You could end up dead.

"Hello, it's nice to meet you," you replied gently. Your voice was a little bit softer than usual, and you took on a tone that was more fragile. You weren't nervous, but it felt as though Rosie was like a towering angry parent.

"Hello dear, I see George likes you quite a bit," Rosie responded, gesturing at the boy in your lap. George looked as happy as could be at the current predicament where two people he respected were meeting each other.

"A few of the others have told me that George likes to sneak out often, never returning until early in the morning," she continued. She had changed her tone at the end. While it was clear that she was wary of you, it was also clear that she was suspicious of you as well.

George's expression changed when Rosie made her statement. A pout soon formed on his lips, quickly corrected by his response.

"no it's not her fault, Rosie. she always tells me that I should spend more time with the colony because it's really important to spend time with all of you. She tells me that we're a family, but she wasn't there, so it wasn't the entire family." George didn't understand that you had not accepted into the colony. You hadn't even attempted to join the colony. You had simply been nice to a little cannibal boy.

Knowing how important the colony was to George, you decided to explain yourself, wanting to make sure he wasn't hurt in the process.

"Rosie, it’s not that I’ve told him to come see me every day. I would much prefer if he spent more days at the colony. He just comes every time he knows my schedule. I understand the importance of the colony. If there’s anything I can do to help, I'll try, but unfortunately, I can’t assure you that he won’t come see me as he has for the last few months."

Rosie's smirk almost looked proud. If you ever tried to join the colony, you would be accepted with no resistance.

"I only ask of you one thing. I wish for you to meet George occasionally at the colonies. I understand that he doesn't sleep as well when you are not around. I want you to go to an establishment one of my friends is putting care into. It's a little care service." George whined, clinging tighter to you in agreement of anything. He was worth it. A home was something easy to lose compared to George's affection.

Though it didn't matter as much, you decided to ask, wanting to be sure you would still be able to keep your apartment.

"Will I still be able to keep my apartment? It's close by, and I'm trying to stay near George. Where is the place you want me to go? I don't mind if it's far away. I just want to be sure I can keep my apartment, but if it isn't possible, I understand." George whined and Rosie smiled. This smile was full of kindness, not just for George but for you as well.

"I will ensure you're able to keep the apartment, but if you aren't, you'll have a home in the colony - even if you aren't a part of it." Rosie said, and the following days would be spent working to keep George comfortable. You would get to know Rosie better and meet a few women at the colony as well. Rosie frequently tried to feed you, remarking on your diet and commenting on how you needed to eat more.

Rosie gave you instructions one day. The location you got to was a worn down building with a broadcasting tower on the side of it. The words "Hazbin hotel" could be seen above the door, though it looked less like a hotel and more like a run down building. You didn't want to be here, but you were willing to sacrifice your desires solely for George's sake. However, this wasn't about fear or being redeemed. It was about you not wanting to separate yourselves from George the same way you had been separated from your old life.

While you were solely focused on George, you didn't notice the red glow coming from the tower, nor did you see the eyes watching you from above. Whoever this individual was, they had a red, hungry look in their eyes as they watched you. They were determined to get your soul one way or another. They just wanted to know how to make that happen.

[raviolirash]

It seems like you keep getting asks about discourse and I thought you'd like some not that. What are 5 little things your drow and Astarion do for fun together?

Thanks for askin' <3 I don't mind discourse questions but I also love questions about my daughter.

First off: I think it'll take them a good while to find some hobbies. How do you even have fun after the lives they lived.

That being said.

1) Going to the theatre, but only for the shittiest plays they can find for a laugh. Unfortunately for them, Volo exists. They have - a very concerning number of times - ended up being the audience for a play that is based on The Heroes Of Baldur's Gate Who Took Down A Netherbrain. The two have a journal solely for ranking their accuracies, and how mad Astarion got at how they butchered his hair. She finds his outbursts very funny until one of the plays portrays her as loving Lolth and was just pure Menzoberranzan propaganda.

1.2) Going on a George "If I had the time and a sledgehammer, I would track down every copy of that show and smash it." Lucas mission for every copy of the book Volo wrote about the adventure. One of the plays insisting that her name as Veal and that she was a Minotaur broke the camel's back.

2) They take turns reading a book to each other every night, depending on who had a nightmare. Of course since it's them, the books in question are romance novels and every page they pause to talk shit about the two protagonists and how bad the author is at writing people falling in love. Without any self awareness, of course. Because the way Vėlė and Astarion met and fell in love in were Completely Normal Circumstances and totally didn't hinge on an idiot accident.

3) Of course planning elaborate crimes and crime accessories but that's another post.

4) Infiltrating parties just to cause problems with a few rumors placed in the right ears, and watching chaos unfold. When it gets boring they set challenges for themselves, like no Read Thoughts/Charm/Friendship spells allowed etc. A lot of these do Task Failed Successfully and end up saving a marriage or two, causing a pretty reward consisting of gold coins. Or expensive jewelry. Well. Can't complain.

5) I think at Vėlė's insistence fueled by mutual hate for Volo, they might start working on a book together detailing their journey. No bias of course! This will lead to a domino effect in a few years where all Heroes write their own book because these two chucklefucks made Volo's book look like the truth.

[clove-pinks]

Sorry I couldn't return your call; I am mentally, emotionally, and all levels besides physically present at the Siege of Fort Meigs in 1813.

I keep thinking about the inventory of the effects of Captain Asabel Nearing deceased, of the 19th Regiment United States Infantry, who died at Fort Meigs Sept. 10, 1813.

It's mostly clothing, as you would expect, with some shaving and writing supplies. There are also two food items: "1 small bag of black pepper" and "2 nutmegs." Not unlike my late grandmother, Captain Nearing apparently had his own personal food-seasoning kit.

The pepper is unremarkable, but the nutmegs are very interesting to me because he was almost certainly using them on savoury food! Look up 18th century and early 19th century cookbooks: there is nutmeg used on beef, veal, mutton, mushrooms, etc.

Thanks to my War of 1812-themed cookbooks like The Fort George Bill of Fare and Setting A Fine Table: Historical Desserts and Drinks from the Officers' Kitchens at Fort York, I have tried savoury nutmeg dishes—and they're really interesting and good! I don't know why (Western) cookery now treats nutmeg as a spice only for sweetened desserts. It's wild to think that Captain Nearing may have been grating fresh nutmug on his salt pork or wild game.

[bluth-of-the-dragon]

2x16, “Meat the Veals”

George: …to love and honor your spirit and flesh. First, the flesh. I will caress and tweak. I will nibble and bite. I will blow alternatingly hot and cool…

[bossymarmalade]

Hola! Hope you're happy today. 😊Now that your enthusiasm about The Beatles is revealed, I must ask: Who's your fav of the fab four? I adore The Beatles myself! Been a fan since I was 14 and saw HELP! on TV.

They have a new video out today: Here, There And Everywhere 🎸

WHOOOOOOOOP RUNNING TO YOUTUBE TO CHECK IT OUT! Plus the Paul videos you mentioned in the other message 🥳

I was quite happy today and rewatched Llewyn Davis AND Moulin Rouge while I did other stuff, hee! You're amazing at sending these messages, each of them has been so creative and interesting and full of content.

As to my fave of the fabs: in general it's sort of dark horse George, because I liked his general later-in-life attitude and his inclusion of Indian influences etc. I'm of Indian heritage but very Westernized so it hit kind of a sweet spot for me that used to be very hard to come by.

Buuuuuuuuuuut in my heart of hearts I have such a fondness for Ringo. I mean once you start delving into Beatles lore you reach a point where you're like "how tf did these people STAND each other" and then you realize it was because of Ringo XD I have a book that's reproductions of the postcards that he kept that the other Beatles had mailed to him and it's so sweet. omg and when they met Elvis, and the other Beatles were like "wow that was underwhelming and kind of disappointing" but Ringo felt bad for Elvis bc he was basically living like veal? All cooped up and alone with the Colonel, while at least the Beatles had each other? BLESS

(Also Help! ahahah lord that movie. For some reason we were obsessed with the line "and I am a dead-eye shot, shooting" XD And it was UNCANNY how much they predicted what the older Beatles would actually look like!

[afactaday]

#aFactADay2024

#1409: George Washington Carver had a list of hundreds of different uses of peanuts. they were mostly food (including some of those alternative meats vegans annoy you with, like Mock Chicken, Mock Veal and Mock Oyster. a century before it was cool) but there were some curveballs, like soap, laxatives, axel grease, fuel and temporary walls. he spent a lot of time developing ways to protect soil from depletion, and he incentivised farmers to introduce rotations with things like sweet potatoes, pecans, and - you guessed it - peanuts. i think he made similar lists for other things too, and compiled recipes and things to help farmers get more from their land and improve their work and quality of life.

[qnewsau]

Is a Drag Race Down Under queen joining Dragula?

New Post has been published on https://qnews.com.au/is-a-drag-race-down-under-queen-joining-dragula/

Is a Drag Race Down Under queen joining Dragula?

RuPaul’s Drag Race Down Under season two queen Yuri Guaii may be joining the next season of The Boulet Brothers’ Dragula.

Drag/horror artists the Boulet Brothers – Dracmorda and Swanthula – launched the wild drag series in 2016.

All five seasons are streaming in Australia on the horror-themed streaming service Shudder.

The sixth season of the drag competition show – which proudly brings filth, horror and glamour back to drag – is now in production.

Unlike other drag shows, the show celebrates underground and alternative drag art. All contestants are tasked with creating runway looks that combine drag, filth, horror, and glamour.

Each season a cast of 11 drag artists compete for a $100,000 prize and the title of World’s Next Drag Supermonster.

The series is infamous for eliminating contestants through elaborately violent “exterminations” and having contestants face their fears to stay in the competition.

Yuri Guaii rumoured for Dragula season six

The season six lineup of Dragula monsters is yet to be officially confirmed. However, the drag detectives of Reddit are already swapping rumours and spilling tea about who’s on.

Yuri Guaii appeared on season two of RuPaul’s Drag Race Down Under.

The Auckland-based queen would be perfect for Dragula, if the rumours are true!

  View this post on Instagram

  A post shared by YURI (@yuriguaii)

Yuri Guaii, a self-proclaimed “misfit”, describes her drag aesthetic as “filthy, glamorous and just plain trash.”

We’ll find out who’s on season six of The Boulet Brothers’ Dragula later this year.

  View this post on Instagram

  A post shared by YURI (@yuriguaii)

Streaming service Shudder says The Boulet Brothers’ Dragula is one of their most popular titles. Shudder confirmed season six was a go back in December.

Dracmorda and Swanthula said, “With season five, we took the show in a new direction and the response from the fans was overwhelmingly positive.

“Now, with the sixth season, we plan on leaning into this bold, new direction even further and truly pushing the creative limits of the show to new heights.”

Read more:

Dragula star Meatball performs very camp number as George Santos

Ru-vealed: Ten queens rumoured for Drag Race Down Under season 4

Willam slams Michelle Visage hosting Drag Race Down Under

Drag Race Down Under star tipped to return for new Global All Stars

For the latest LGBTIQA+ Sister Girl and Brother Boy news, entertainment, community stories in Australia, visit qnews.com.au. Check out our latest magazines or find us on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and YouTube.

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"Drop Charges onBookmakers But Collect From Club," Kingston Whig-Standard. May 9, 1933. Page 2. ---- At the next meeting of the City Council, the Property Committee will ask that the action taken at the last meeting of the council, on the recommendation of this committee, to impose a charge of $100 per day on book-makers attending the harness horse races at the Fair Grounds, be rescinded. In its place the committee will ask that a charge of $25 per day be made on the Kingston Gentlemen's Driving and Matinee Club for the use of the Fair Ground sand the race track other than for races held in connection with the Fair Association.

This action was taken at a meeting of the committee held on Monday afternoon, after a deputation from the Driving Club, composed of E. J. Metcalfe and George Veale had been heard. The members of the deputation stated that the fee of $100 proposed on bookmakers would mean that they would not attend the races, and that on this basis neither the city nor the driving club would be able to make any money.

The chairman, Ald. Stewart, presided at the meeting, and all the members of the committee were present, including Aldermen Reynolds, Chown, Ferguson, Sparks, Rowland, and Percy.

Mr. Medcalfe stated that at a meeting of the directors of the Driving Club held on Friday evening last,the fee of $100 on book-makers had been discussed. The fee was regarded as too high, and deputation had be appointed to wait on the committee in regard to the matter. He said that the club had been spending considerable money in keeping the track in good condition, and was doing everything possible to promote harness racing in Kingston. The club was quite willing to pay the city a reason-able fee if the club realized sufficient money on the races held. He said that last week the club spent $30 on the track. The club could not make any money on the present plan,and that as a result there would be no money for the City Last year for the special one-day meet the club held a book-maker paid $75.

Ald. Sparks said that he thought that the book-makers should pay a fee for the privilege of attending the races, and he did not think the fee of $100 was too high.

"But they do not always win," remarked Mr. Metcalfe.

Ald. Chown felt that the bookmakers should pay for the privilege; he was of the opinion that the charge of $100 was not too high. He wanted to know what the Driving Club had to suggest that would bring about an equal revenue for both the city and the club.

Mr. Metcalfe said that if the club were asked to pay a percentage on their net receipts it would be the fairest way to deal with the matter.

"The city is giving the club the free use of the grounds, and I think the book-makers should pay for the privilege they get," said Ald. Sparks.

Ald. Ferguson suggested that the fee for the book-makers be reduced to $25 per day.It was finally decided to drop the fee for book-makers.

Ald. Ferguson later moved that the driving club be charged a fee of $28 per day for the use of the Fair Grounds and the race track for races other than those held in connection with the Kingston Fair.

Ald. Chown then moved an amendment to charge the Driving Club $25 per day for the use of the race track for ordinary meets, and $50 a day when meets are held on public holidays.

Aldermen Chown and Sparks supported the amendment which was lost, Ald. Ferguson, Percy and Rowland voted in favor of the motion to make the fee $25 per day. Ald. Reynolds was called out of the meeting sometime before the vote was taken, so his vote was not recorded.

The committee received an application from Nick Lungal, for permission to erect a bathing house on the southside of the Front Road at Lake Ontarlo Park; but no action was taken.

Midway At the last meeting of the City Council, on the recommendation of the 21st Battalion for permission to allow a midway on the Fair Grounds free of charge from June 19 to 24 be allowed, subject to the charge fixed for midways, namely at the rate of $25 per day, with a maximum charge of$100 a week.

Alfred Tugwood, president of the club, asked the committee to reconsider its action, pointing out that the club was bringing the midway here to raise the sum of $159.08 balance due on the club's memorial erected in the City Park.

The members of the committee felt that a midway should pay the fee decided on, and decided to take no further action in the matter.

Last year the council, on the recommendation of the Finance Committee,passed the following resolution;"That the sum of $600 be granted to the 21st. Battalion Club towards payment of the account to the McCallum Granite Company Ltd. for the memorial, this grant to be given when the club has paid the balance of the amount of this account.

William Peters, market clerk, was appointed to act in the carrying out of the by-law recently passed by the council providing for the licensing, regulating and governing of transient traders. The license fee was fixed at $250. The committee will recommend that the market clerk be allowed $100 per year for running expenses of his car

It was decided to arrange for some necessary spring cleaning in the market building.