#charles once again having selective memory

[petit-papillion]

Charles Leclerc: "Never ever have I been starstruck."

Except for

Michael Schumacher

"To tell you exactly what we spoke about is difficult because the only thing I remember is looking at his red overalls, looking at him, and being just as a normal child would be, watching Michael at that time. It was very special. I remember coming into the paddock, we had an opportunity to see him. It was all very exciting."

Sebastian Vettel

"I arrived the first year and I was obviously super impressed and I think I was probably very weird to him because I was shy and didn't know what to say when I was with him."

Lewis Hamilton

18-year-old Haas development driver Charles Leclerc afraid to go talk to 3-time WDC Lewis Hamilton during red-flagged 2016 Brazil Grand Prix.

[elodieunderglass]

Having dug out the Unfinished Tales to reference a conversation Tolkien wrote between Gandalf and Pippin (but didn’t publish) I thought I’d share it. Gandalf is talking to Pippin about the history of Thorin’s company, hobbits and why he chose Bilbo.

This is evidence for the grand statement I just made about how Bilbo was intended to be a catalyst that changed his society, and that hobbit society was indeed significantly different after his journey, with large social changes occurring between The Hobbit and Fellowship. But it’s also a very funny passage to me so here it is:

‘And then there was the Shire-folk. I began to have a warm place in my heart for them in the Long Winter, which none of you can remember.

They were very hard put to it then: one of the worst pinches they have been in, dying of cold, and starving in the dreadful dearth that followed. But that was the time to see their courage, and their pity one for another. It was by their pity as much as by their tough uncomplaining courage that they survived. I wanted them still to survive.

(😭😭😭😭. Also the theme of having pity for each other is what redeems both Bilbo and Frodo re: Gollum.)

But I saw that the Westlands were in for another very bad time again, sooner or later, though of quite a different sort: pitiless war.

(This is possibly one reason why this passage didn’t make it to publication - Gandalf shouldn’t have had this much foreknowledge of the upcoming war of the ring.)

To come through that I thought they would need something more than they now had. It is not easy to say what. Well, they would want to know a bit more, understand a bit clearer what it was all about, and where they stood.

(It’s also explaining that Bilbo’s role in Thorin’s company was predetermined both by a more omnipotent Gandalf and by Fate; that Gandalf selected Bilbo to be a social catalyst, to return and provoke hobbit society into a more adaptable, resilient state; therefore increasing their chances of surviving.)

They had begun to forget: forget their own beginnings and legends, forget what little they had known about the greatness of the world. It was not yet gone, but it was getting buried: the memory of the high and the perilous. But you cannot teach that sort of thing to a whole people quickly. There was not time.

(Thus Bilbo was supposed to be changed, and return changed by his journey, to teach his people.)

And anyway you must begin at some point, with some one person. I dare say he was “chosen” and I was only chosen to choose him; but I picked out Bilbo.’

‘Now that is just what I want to know,’ said Peregrin. ‘Why did you do that?’

‘How would you select any one Hobbit for such a purpose?’ said Gandalf. ‘I had not time to sort them all out;

(He is SO funny)

but I knew the Shire very well by that time, although when I met Thorin I had been away for more than twenty years on less pleasant business. So naturally thinking over the Hobbits that I knew, I said to myself: “I want a dash of the Took” (but not too much, Master Peregrin)

(This is brilliant we are always BODYING pippin constantly. NOT TOO MUCH TOOK 👀. We were ROBBED not having this in canon )

“and I want a good foundation of the stolider sort, a Baggins perhaps.” That pointed at once to Bilbo.

(Eugenics! Observing them like laboratory mouse lines! Call him a Charles River BILB/o the way you’re genotyping these poor little bastards for your purposes)

And I had known him once very well, almost up to his coming of age, better than he knew me.

(??? Hiding in the bushes spying or…?)

I liked him then. And now I found that he was “unattached” – to jump on again, for of course I did not know all this until I went back to the Shire. I learned that he had never married. I thought that odd, though I guessed why it was; and the reason that I guessed was not the one that most of the Hobbits gave me: that he had early been left very well off and his own master.

(Was it cos he’s gay as fuck, Gandalf)

No, I guessed that he wanted to remain “unattached” for some reason deep down which he did not understand himself – or would not acknowledge, for it alarmed him.

(I 100% now and for always love a narrator in a constant state of Just Fucking Lies To Everyone All The Time, Giving Us Nothing, Acknowledging Nothing Including Himself. NOPE NOT PROCESSING ANYTHING TODAY THANKS. WE’RE CLOSED. COME BACK TOMORROW. just A Massive Liar about everything and for what!!! Bilbo Baggins my beloved you were born wrong.)

He wanted, all the same, to be free to go when the chance came, or he had made up his courage. I remembered how he used to pester me with questions when he was a youngster about the Hobbits that had occasionally “gone off ”, as they said in the Shire. There were at least two of his uncles on the Took side that had done so.’

You can see why I love this! And I can see why Tolkien didn’t include it, too. Still very fun passage and near enough to canon to be used if you ever want to.

[vintage-london-images]

Here we have a selection of colour photographs of Piccadilly Circus from the 1950s 60s and 70s.

Piccadilly Circus connects to Piccadilly, a thoroughfare whose name first appeared in 1626 as Piccadilly Hall, named after a house belonging to Robert Baker, a tailor famous for selling piccadills or piccadillies, a term used for various kinds of popular collars of the time. The street was known as Portugal Street in 1692 in honour of Catherine of Braganza, the queen consort of King Charles II but was known as Piccadilly by at least 1743. Piccadilly Circus was created in 1819, at the junction with Regent Street, which was then being built under the planning of John Nash on the site of a house and garden belonging to a Lady Hutton, the intersection was then known as Regent Circus South (just as Oxford Circus was known as Regent Circus North) and it did not begin to be known officially as Piccadilly Circus until the mid 1880's with the rebuilding of the Regent Street Quadrant and the construction of Shaftesbury Avenue. In the same period the circus lost its circular form.

The Shaftesbury Memorial Fountain or Eros at Piccadilly Circus was erected in 1893 to commemorate the philanthropic works of Anthony Ashley Cooper, 7th Earl of Shaftesbury. It was removed from the Circus twice and moved from the centre once. The first time was in the mid 1920s, so that Charles Holden's new tube station could be built directly below it. The fountain returned in 1931. During the Second World War, the fountain was removed for the second time and replaced by advertising hoardings. It was returned again in 1948. When the Circus underwent reconstruction work in the late 1980s, the entire fountain was moved from the centre of the junction at the beginning of Shaftesbury Avenue to its present position at the southwestern corner.

Piccadilly Circus tube station was opened on 10th March 1906, on the Bakerloo line, and on the Piccadilly line in December of that year. In 1928, the station was extensively rebuilt to handle an increase in traffic. The junction's first electric advertisements appeared in 1910, and from 1923 electric billboards were set up on the facade of the London Pavilion. Electric street lamps interestingly however did not replace the gas ones until 1932. The circus became a one-way roundabout on 19th July 1926 and traffic lights were first installed on 3rd August of that year.

[scotianostra]

On May 27th 1661, Presbyterian lord Archibald Campbell, the first Marquess of Argyll, lost his head at Edinburgh.

If you follow my posts you have no doubt read much of James Graham, Marquess of Montrose on here, well Argyll was his arch enemy, once a privy councillor to King Charles I, "Red Argyll" had been in the 1640s a great champion of Scottish national liberty and a leader of the Presbyterians in the many sided war that tore apart the both Scotland and England.

Scotland’s Presbyterians favoured a bottom up structure in church affairs as opposed to the crown-controlled selection of bishops that’s known as Episcopacy. They made an initial alliance with English Parliamentarians In Scotland’s civil war in the mid-1640s, Argyll’s Presbyterians defeated Monstrose's royalists, whicheventually led to Graham's execution, whch I posted about his last week.

Argyll was another who played both sides of the divide, always with an eye to backing the winning horse, after supporting the Covenanter-Parliamentary cause throughout much of the 1640s, after the execution of Charles l he swung his support behind his heir Charles II inviting the young man to Scotland. Argyll hoped that he would sign the Covenant to gain the Scottish throne. At the coronation at Scone, ( I touched upon this yesterday in my post on Dunnottar,) Argyll was the man who placed the crown on Charles’ head. No doubt he anticipated rewards for himself and the Campbell family, and there were even rumours that the king would marry Argyll’s own daughter.

Charles II planned to invade England and Argyll retreated to Inveraray, again changing sides to join Cromwell. Charles would never forgive him, and, to make things worse, Argyll’s son Lorne became a committed Royalist. At Inveraray, Argyll tried to remove himself from the conflict and live quietly but he was in deep financial trouble because of the expenses of his military efforts and was imprisoned for debt for some time.

When Charles II was finally restored to the English throne in 1660 despite being advised against it, Argyll travelled to London to seek reconciliation with the king. Charles was quick to have him arrested and sent to the Tower before he was transported to Edinburgh for trial as a traitor.

There were various charges of treason against Argyll, He was acquitted of complicity in the death of Charles I, again being in the right place at the right time when Leslie handed him over to the Roundheads, however most of the charges were satisfactorily answered and new evidence that he had collaborated with Cromwell led to the sentence of forfeiture of his titles and lands, and execution.

His enemies wanted him dead as soon as possible, and he was executed by the “Maiden” at Edinburgh Tollbooth. Campbell's head was fixed to the same spike which had borne the head of his old enemy the Marquess of Montrose 11 years before.

It is recorder that Archibald Campbell faced death calmly and with courage, impressing everyone. The Covenanters declared him a martyr and his final speech, despite efforts to suppress it, was printed and widely circulated. Part of it inscribed on his memorial in St Gile's " I had the honour to set the crown on the King's head, and now he hastens me to a better crown than his own. " which was erected in 1895.

His body was eventually taken to Kilmun for burial, and some time later his son, the 9th Earl of Argyll, claimed his head to take it there as well. When restoration work to the mausoleum took place in the 1890s, in a velvet covered coffin, a skull was found which showed evidence that it may have belonged to him.

You need to read 'Montrose' by John Buchan to realise the conniving, horrible man the Archibald was. Argyll didn't slaughter the prisoners at Philiphaugh, Leslie did. Just as he Slaughtered the Lamonts and Montrose' Irish followers at Newark castle. Argyll was a manipulator and dissembler. Always able to leave the scene and never able to overcome his envy of a bright young man, chivalrous and clever Montrose, he eventually paid the price for his double dealing. To me his face is that of a man wo can't be trusted, don't you think?

[adamwatchesmovies]

Nemesis III: Time Lapse (1996)

While I didn't enjoy this film, that doesn't mean you won't. No matter what I say, the people involved in this project did it: they actually made a movie. That's something to be applauded. With that established...

Also known as Nemesis 3: Prey Harder, Nemesis III: Time Lapse only does one thing right: it assumes you’ve forgotten all of Nemesis 2: Nebula. This why it reiterates its plot in great detail. If - for some reason - you’re jumping into the franchise at this point or it’s been a while since you’ve seen the second installment in the sci-fi franchise one would generously describe as “mediocre”, you won’t be lost. On the flip side, if you have seen Nebula not all that long ago, you will wonder if the flashbacks weren’t simply a way to cut costs. This isn’t the most egregious re-use of footage I’ve seen (I doubt any will ever match Silent Night, Deadly Night Part 2) but it easily earns the silver medal.

Alex (Sue Price) wakes up in the desert with amnesia. As she makes her way back to civilization, she encounters the mysterious Farnsworth 2 (Tim Thomerson, who we saw in Nemesis). As her memories return, she recalls that in the future, machines have enslaved mankind, that her mother was sent back in time to keep her safe and that her descendants are humanity’s only hope. In no time, robots from the future arrive to eliminate Alex before she can have children of her own.

Told largely in flashback, this plot is needlessly convolute and complicated. Once again, we’re just watching a knockoff of The Terminator. Alex will some day give birth to John Connor and robots disguised as humans are after her. Oh, but this movie wishes it had even a fraction of the budget of the T2-3D: Battle Across Time amusement ride. If the stock footage at the beginning doesn’t give away how cheap this movie is, the special effects will. Farnsworth 2’s true robotic form will have you howling. The robots from Van-pires would laugh it off the screen. Its introduction is confusing - apparently, it projects a hologram around itself to look like a regular person - but the Blu-ray's lack of subtitle options and the audience's howls of laughter will drown out all the dialogue that explains this. I wish I could say the picture gets better from there. Farnsworth 2 has a bunch of scenes where he’s scanning Alex and the visuals don’t line up at all. Later in the movie, vehicles with what are either forcefields or cloaking devices are introduced and the effects are embarrassing.

Nemesis 3 will make you appreciate Arnold Schwarzenegger more than ever before. Like Sue Price, he was selected for his role because of his physical presence but the man’s got on-screen presence and charisma. He injects personality into the T-800. From the previous chapter, it was clear that this movie’s star has no business being in front of the camera. This is a crystal-clear confirmation. She’s dreadful; an absolute bore. If this weren’t bad enough, every actor and actress around her is equally terrible. Watching them struggle through their uninspired dialogue drains all your energy. Many of Alex's opponents are given “personalities” in the form of annoying quirks. The worst of them all has to be a set of “twin” Terminators who only look vaguely alike and have the aggravating habit of turning to each other and cackling like fairytale witches. You can't wait for it to end. Unfortunately, you remember the film is told in flashback so until Alex gets to that desert with her head injury, the movie’s got to keep going.

At 85 minutes, this is a tedious bore, which makes the running time feel merciful. While there are points where you’ll laugh, this has got to be the worst Terminator knockoff out there. The writing is wretched in both obvious ways that Rebecca Charles and Albert Pyun (who also directs this movie) should’ve seen, and in more subtle ways that you will only notice if you are determined to stay wide awake and analyze the movie. Even though I tried my best, I know I’m not going to remember Nemesis III: Time Lapse down the line, which will either prove to be a gift to my sanity, or a curse. (On Blu-ray, September 6, 2019)

[nuggiebugge]

What triggers them headcanon

Michael Myers: Michael Myers is a very unbothered person, nothing much getting to him. I don't think he has very many triggers per say, but there are a select few pet peeves of his. In my opinion, I think he would be bothered if something was too perfect, or too symmetrical. Just like if someone were to be bothered by an off-centered picture frame, he would be bothered by asymmetrical patterns. He would have one trigger though, I think he is very distant towards any sort of affection towards himself. In a real canonical setting, there is no way in hell that you would be able to be in a romantic relationship with him. So if anyone were to try and kiss, or hug him, he would immediately murder them out of one of the only emotions he can feel anger.

Jason Voorhees:Jason Voorhees is a very serious person, and he does indeed have feelings. Some feelings are going to be more intense than others, and whenever those intense feelings are directed towards him, he has to reconnect himself and control what he's feeling towards the situation. Jason has a very obvious trigger, having trauma with water he is immediately panicked when submerged. So, if you're ever swimming, don't even try to dunk his head unless you want a panicked and flailing full adult man trying to charge as fast as he can out of the water.

Brahms Heelshire: Brahms is a very clingy Person, and if he grows attached to you, you are never leaving him again. It’s already bad enough you were away from him for so long, and he should punish you for it but he's merciful. His patience will run thin if you try to leave again though, he will throw the hissiest fit you have ever seen. He’ll go into a state of panic and rage if you try to leave, remembering how his parents left him. You trying to leave, triggers the memories of watching his mom and dad leave and never seeing them again. In the movie it doesn’t seem like it had much impact on him, because it wasn’t addressed. But I believe that left heavy mental scarring on him. He was abandoned by his parents, and how dare you try to do the same to him after worming your way into his needy heart.

Vincent Sinclair: Vincent Sinclair is a very stoic man, and it doesn’t seem like much bothers him. But that’s only because of the mask that hides his expressions and emotions. But, if i were to guess what triggered him, if even slightly, would be if anyone invaded his privacy. I.E. going in his room, looking through his sketchbook. He is a very reserved person, who obviously enjoys his alone time, and as an artist I really enjoy my personal time.

Chucky/Charles lee ray: for chucky, i don't think much bothers this asshole. I do believe he would have a more mundane or domestic pet peeve than the other killers though. He’s not completely insane like some of the others. At least I don't believe so.I think his biggest pet peeve in a normal situation would be if someone were to walk into a room, and say nothing then just leave. I don't know, i just feel like that would bug the fuck out of him. It bugs the shit out of me, like what do you want? Don’t just stand there like a creep, say something asshole!

Bubba sawyer :). ; for bubba, it's a little easier to decipher triggers for him. Such as too many people talking at once, or overzealous people. In the movie it is obvious he’s overwhelmed by chop top and Drayton, it's all too much to handle at once and could be a very suffocating situation. This poor sweet man deserved so much better, my baby :(

Thomas hewitt: Thomas is also an easy to read fella. In both movies, it's obvious he's triggered by people dehumanizing him. When he's called an animal, he drops everything and goes into a fit of rage. After being judged his whole life, called names for the way he looks, being called r3tãrd3d, I can imagine being called an animal will just make someone snap. He also deserves a lot better, he's only trying to feed his family at that point.

Pyramid head: I think a trigger of his in a normal situation, would be if he were to hear of a person getting away with a crime with little to no punishment. Like a murderer only getting a few years in prison, or a child molester getting anything less than life in prison, or the death penalty. (Which they all deserve life in prison, no hope for parole. They don't deserve the release death holds.)

Asa Emory/ the collector: Asa is a very stoic person in the collector persona, only slightly lessening if he is just the entomologist. What triggers him when he is outside of the collector persona, is probably someone killing a bug needlessly. Just out of random. When he is inside the collector persona, what would bother him greatly is if someone ruined one of his collections.

Jesse cromeans/ Chromeskull: he would be really upset, if someone rearranged his stuff. In a total panic, throwing shit around to find anything. If he could speak, he would be cursing everyone. Your mom, his dad, your sister, fuck you old lady across the street! WHO THE FUCK MOVED MY KNIFE COLLECTION?!?!-

Tiffany valentine: you can’t change my mind, the thing that would trigger her the most is mismatching colors. I know that its stupid, but i think it would just make her eye twitch if she saw someone wearing some tacky colors. Never wear white shoes after Labor Day bitches.

Nancy downs: Nancy downs takes it personally when someone gives a half assed apology. She takes it personally. If you do her, or anyone close to her wrong, and just say sorry to get yourself out of trouble, she will go bat shit crazy. She can’t stand liars. Lying to her is like signing up for your funeral. And she knows, don't think you're slick. Because you're not. Her intuition is too strong for her to miss a stupid little lie. You aren’t smarter than her. And lying to Nancy, is like telling her you're smarter than she is. You’re not.

Stu Macher:wet socks.

Billy loomis:Sidney.

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Cocotte (Part 3)

Read Chapters 1&2 on AO3 (with the knowledge that Harry is a sex worker and Chapter 2 is very explicit).

Draco spent the next week trying to stop thinking about Potter.

Which was ridiculous. The whole intention of his appointment had been to blow off a bit of steam so that he could be more focused, but he honestly felt more distracted than ever.

"What is with you?" Blaise asked in exasperation as Draco missed the end of whatever he'd been saying about delivery lines and delays.

"Nothing," he said a bit defensively.

Blaise rolled his eyes, "Come on," he said. "What are you thinking about, fess up."

"Nothing," he repeated, doing his best to will himself not to blush, not to give anything away.

The other man set down the parchment he'd been making notes on and stared at Draco appraisingly. "I haven't seen you this distracted since you were dating Charles," he said. Then he frowned, "Or maybe even since we were at Hogwarts and you had that incapacitating crush on Potter."

"Shut up," he spit, feeling his cheeks flame at that, he hadn't told the other man that Potter had been the one to show up to his appointment; it was a secret he planned to carry to his grave. "I didn't have a crush on bloody stupid Potter."

Blaise rolled his eyes, "You had a crush on Potter and everyone knows it."

"Do not make me hex you."

The other man held up his hands in surrender, "I'm just saying don't go falling in love with a-"

"I'm not falling in love!" he exclaimed. "What is wrong with you?"

(Read more below the cut)

"I'm not the one who's not listening to important production updates, th-"

"Take care of it," he said, shaking his head and setting down the papers Blaise had handed him ten minutes ago when he'd sat down. "You can handle it, right?" he snapped waspishly. "I don't have to do everything myself, do I?"

Blaise scooped up the papers and muttered something under his breath.

"What was that?" he called as the other man headed to the door.

"Nothing," he said, "Just, you can set up regular appointments you know-"

"Out," he said. "I'm up to my ears in work."

With a shrug, Blaise left and Draco flicked his fingers to shut the door behind him.

He'd intended to get back to work, he really had, but Blaise's words circled in his brain, testing and pushing until he was pulling out the mobile phone he kept tucked in the back of his desk and calling the agency's number.

He was going to prove to himself that this wasn't about stupid Potter, this was just about having sex that he really enjoyed. Anyone would do.

The receptionist had been very helpful selecting someone who would fulfill his needs.

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

Anthony had been very good. Professional, punctual, highly attractive, every box that Draco had requested had been ticked. And, frankly, the sex had been fantastic as well.

But still, as Draco sat there in his office the next day, his mind wandered back to bloody Potter. No matter what he did, he couldn't get the images and the feelings that had arisen out of his mind.

He'd practically wanked himself raw to the memory of it in the shower, in his bed, once on the sofa. It was like being a bloody teenager again.

And he might not have minded so much, if only he'd been able to get the other man out of his head when he came. If it had just been some nameless, faceless fantasy, Draco could had managed, but he'd come with the name 'Harry' on his lips more times that he wanted to admit.

After another four, intolerable days, Draco did the only thing he could do; he called the agency again. One more time with Potter and he'd get him out of his system. He just hadn't been expecting him to be as good as he'd been. Now that he knew what to expect, he could go in and have the experience he was looking for, then be done.

Easy as that.

It had been another three days before Potter had any availability, but that was alright. He was fully capable of waiting, Potter didn't dictate his life.

Still, he found himself arriving nearly half an hour early for his appointment.

This time he took off his socks and shoes ahead of time, unbuttoned his waist coat, and rolled up his sleeves before pouring himself a drink from the mini bar in his room and collapsing onto the surprisingly comfortable couch.

Potter surprised him by turning up early as well, twelve minutes before the time their appointment was supposed to start.

"Hello there," he said, smiling broadly at Draco as he stepped in and closed the door, slipping the lock into place before sauntering over to him where he was sitting on the couch.

"You still have twelve minutes," he informed him as he took another sip of his drink, making no move to stand and leaving his legs stretched out on the sofa, keeping his body calm even as his pulse thundered in his neck.

Potter wasn't deterred, he sauntered over, and Draco let his eyes drift over him, admiring his relaxed posture and easy confidence, his hands shoved into his pockets. "How was your day?" he asked as he plopped down on the end of the sofa and pulled Draco's feet into his lap, thumbs digging into his arch.

He hummed, "We don't have to do the forced small talk thing," he said, letting his eyes drift shut as he enjoyed the foot rub.

The other man huffed a chuckle, "It's not forced."

Draco opened one eye and leveled it at the other man, "You actually care about how my day was?"

Potter nodded, "I do."

"Why?"

"Do I have to have a reason?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

He sat up a bit straighter and narrowed his eyes that the other man, "Yes."

Potter sighed, as though Draco was the one being tedious. "When I left the Wizarding world, I decided to stop caring about the huge, world-saving kind of things and just care about the people in front of me."

"Including me?" he asked skeptically.

The other man tilted his head, "What makes you think that I shouldn't care about you but random people that I don't know?"

"Potter-"

"Harry," he corrected.

He rolled his eyes, "We're not friends. You don't even like me. You can't possibly care about something as mundane as how my day was."

"Draco," he said, shifting on the couch so that he was straddling Draco's legs. arse resting lightly against his thighs, and looking into his eyes. "I want to know about your day. I'm not the boy you knew at Hogwarts."

"Obviously," he drawled. "I'm not the same either."

"I know that," Potter said. "Which is why I care about your day."

He groaned, "You're fucking relentless." Draco shook his head, "My day was awful, alright? I'm fucking exhausted and I want to stab my own eyeballs out."

"Was that so hard?" he asked.

"You're an idiot," he said, laughing in spite of himself.

Potter grinned at him, "Wanna forget about your awful day?"

He stared into Potter's eyes, letting himself slip a little bit under whatever metaphorical spell Potter was casting. "Merlin, yes."

[earnestly-endlessly]

Hi! Do you have any Cherik Army AUs? I've managed to find just 3.

Hi Anon, thanks for the ask. I found some good Army AUs, though some might not quite fall into the category of 'Army AU'. There are, surprisingly, few Army AUs that I have found, whereas there are several military and war AUs, but those don't necessarily involve an army. I did include a variety that involve an army in one way or another, though some fit the bill better than others. I hope you find some that you enjoy!!

Cherik Army AU

I Want to Guard Your Dreams And Visions – luninosity

Summary: I was reading Barbara Hambly’s Abigail Adams mystery novels, and then Erik/Charles American Revolutionary War AU happened. Little snippet in which they share a tent, drink coffee, and provide support to each other.

The Eggnog Riot – Sophia_Bee

Summary: 1826. The American Military Academy in West Point. The day after Christmas. Cadet Erik Lehnsherr wakes up naked with a certain cadet Xavier sprawled across his chest. He can only blame the eggnog.

No Man’s Land – ikeracity

Summary: It's 1914 in Ypres, Belgium. British soldier Charles Xavier has been in the trenches for four months of endless artillery fire, bone-deep cold, and constant fear of the enemy. But on Christmas Eve, the gunfire falls silent, and they climb out of their trenches for a Christmas truce. Charles, of course, meets Erik, the German soldier across the way.

My Land’s Only Borders Lie Around My Heart – pseudoneems

Summary: WW1 Christmas truce of 1914. Opposing soldiers Erik and Charles meet.

Le soldat – Iggyassou

Summary: Erik is in the trenches, trying to survive the war so that he can go back to Charles, his young lover waiting for him back at home.

Names – Squeegee

Summary: In the summer of 1917, British soldier Charles Xavier finds himself taking cover in a shell crater.

Not sure if the 'graphic' tag applies or not, but I'd rather be safe than sorry.

Quell a storm with pen and ink – patroclux

Summary: Charles had spared his life. That was not something he could easily repay.

They wrote letters to each other for two years, until Charles was pulled out of the war from a sudden illness and Erik remained to fight for a cause he didn't believe in. One that ultimately had no effect; one that stole away four years of his life.

Traumatized and persecuted, Erik applied for a post at Janus, a lighthouse in the middle of the Irish Sea. He thought being alone would do him good.

Despite the letters and despite the love, Erik didn't expect Charles to find him.

Hier steh ich an den Marken meiner Tage – MonstrousRegiment

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr is a spy in the SS, and his British liaison is strategist Charles Xavier. Their relationship from the moment they meet to a year after the end of the war.

Theme and Variations: War – ninemoons42

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr is a musical prodigy and a man destined for great things and great stages. But his life is shattered by a terrible accident that leaves him blind and trying to find his way back to his life, his music, and his place in the world.

Then he meets Charles Xavier, an agent of Section 8 of the Military Intelligence Directorate of Providence, and he finds himself listening in to clandestine radio transmissions and clicking Morse code, and these sounds are part and parcel of a war that can only take place in the shadows and the hidden places of history.

Strib nicht von Mir – ravenoftheninerealms

Summary: A squad of Allied Forces, led by Charles Xavier, liberates the Nazi concentration camp where Erik was being held prisoner.

Cold foxholes, warm hearts – oddegg

Summary: Basically, this is Band of Mutants. A little slice of life in Bastogne.

Photographs and Memories – tirsynni

Summary: When war-battered Erik Lehnsherr met Charles Xavier, the man kneeling in the dirt and whispering to a lost refugee child, Erik feared his days of running from his deviance was done.

Marching Home – Quietbang

Summary: For a prompt on the meme asking for fic dealing with the fact that, in comics canon, Charles served in the Korean war.

War meant something different to this generation, Charles knew.

Crash on the Levy (Down in the Flood) – Quietbang

Summary: “This is much bigger than you think. You're in the middle of a war, and you don't even realize, do you?”

He pauses, and answers his own question.“No, of course you don't. How silly of me."

The Knight and the Dagger – Dow

Summary: A Lieutenant in the Soviet Army, Erik Lensherr had no other goals than to find the man that killed his parents. But when a discovery yields a little boy with wings like an angel, Erik is shocked to realize that he isn’t alone. There are other people like him, both dangerous and alluring.

Lifelong Service – Pookaseraph

Summary: Erik thinks he should be the one to teach their recruits hand-to-hand combat; Charles makes a persuasive argument to the contrary.

Footsteps of uprooted lovers – ninemoons42

Summary: Against a turbulent backdrop of artistic, social, and political upheaval, the playwright Charles Xavier and the photographer Erik Lehnsherr find themselves meeting under less-than-polite circumstances, but part rather more amicably than they'd met.

When they find each other again in a Barcelona that is falling inexorably toward war, they find themselves taking up arms, each in his own way, and together they join a struggle for freedom, for love, and for their very lives.

Dear Soldier – Lindstrom, ToriTC198

Summary: "Dear Soldier,

I pray that this package finds you well. The organization gave us a list of odds and ends that you might need, but I thought that a person so far from home might appreciate something more than soap and tube socks."

When Charles' school decides to send care packages to the soldiers fighting in Vietnam, he chooses to also include a letter and a few personal touches. When Staff Sergeant Erik is the recipient of that particular care package it will spur a relationship that will change them both.

Fortunate Son – blueink13

Summary: he days leading up to and during Alex's deployment in Vietnam. Everyone handles it in their own way. Some handle better than others.

You’re Here – Deshonana

Summary: Everyone decides its a good idea not to tell Erik when his boyfriend comes home from the military.

Welcome Home –  loveydoveyecstasy

Summary: It's been two years since Charles was deployed to Afghanistan, and Erik can't wait to pick him up at the airport.

When Secrets have Secrets – ximeria

Summary: The arguments that take place in General Xavier's office when General Lehnsherr has a bad day are legendary. Quite frankly, no one really knows what's going on and if the two men have it their way, no one ever will.

Quiet Company – Sophia_Bee

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr is always on the move. He's spent the last many years going from war torn country to war torn country telling the stories of the people there through photographs. Then one of his pictures is selected as a winner for the Pulitzer Prize and Erik finds himself stuck in London for longer than he wants. He ends up with an assignment to photograph Charles Xavier, a wealthy philanthropist who is intrigued to find himself working with a Pulitzer-winning war photographer. Erik is far less intrigued by someone he considers privileged and out of touch. Both of their lives are about to change in ways they couldn't imagine.

The City is Ours – RedStockings

Summary: Erik felt his heart racing with excitement, lightened, and for once felt joyful. Charles had looked at him, really looked at him, and there had been something there, a knowing of a kind. As the soldiers laughed amongst each other, and joked each other about who would succeed in marrying the boy, Erik made himself a silent vow. Charles was going to be his, and nothing would keep him from having him. He’d marry him, and he’d save him, and Charles would love him for it.

Not even the war could keep them apart... right?

Sign of the Times – dsrobertson

Summary: Casablanca-ish AU.

Charles Xavier meets Erik Lehnsherr in Paris, 1937. They spend the next two years with one another, stupid in-love, until war comes heavy in September 1939. Erik leaves for Poland and the Resistance movement there, promising to return. Charles is left in Paris, where Nazi jackboots march in, Summer of 1940. He becomes a member of the underground French Resistance, publishing illegal newsletters, leaflets, until news comes through in February 1942: Erik is dead. Charles throws himself into more dangerous work, meeting with Communists, helping derail a German train, and he does too much, goes too far. His friends find him safe passage out of France, out across the Mediterranean, to Morocco, Casablanca. It is here he finds Erik, alive.

The Waste Land – nekosmuse

Summary: The White Queen and her Shadow King sit on their throne, safe behind the psionic shields of the Walled City. The armies of Genosha batter uselessly at the gates, a war locked in stalemate. Magneto, camped in the frozen mud, receives word the Citadel intends to send a telepath to the front lines. The same telepath he met two years ago, who sat across a carved wooden chess set and offered Magneto the first friendly smile in a lifetime. The same telepath who still haunts his dreams.

Winter Comes With a Knife – RedStockings

Summary: It apparently came to no one’s surprise that the war-mage Erik Lehnsherr took up residence in the Dark Keep. I knew he was going to choose my sister, Raven, to be his apprentice so why wouldn’t he let me go? What did he want from me?

My name is Charles Xavier, I can read minds and use magic. I’ve met Kings and Queens, mages and magic users. I’ve travelled through lay-lines and jumped through the Dark Void… but none of that really matters.

I am leading an army into war, I am scared and I never wanted this. I’ve come to realise that what I want, rode into my life when I was still a child. Now he’s out there, ready to charge into battle. Ready to die for me.

Polaris – LastAmericanMermaid

Summary: Charles Xavier is 19 years old, doe-eyed and soft; Erik Lehnsherr is 24 years old, steely-hard and bitter. One is a soldier, the other a refugee. Both are mutants. There will be pain, oh yes.

(An AU in which Charles is a wounded British soldier, Erik is the German hiding in France who nurses him back to health, and the contents of this fic are best read to the soundtrack of Atonement.)

Note: Unfinished

MEDIC! – paladin_danse

Summary: A British airborne medic finds himself alone and afraid behind enemy lines. When he decides to save the life of an S.S. German officer he finds wounded in the snow, he has no idea the choice he has made will alter the course of the war—and their lives—forever.

Note: Sadly unfinished

Suicide is Painlesss – weethreequarter 

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr did not become a doctor to pick bullets out of children. Unfortunately the US Army had other ideas.

Stuck in the middle of the Korean War, Erik and his fellow civilian surgeons have to battle not only the war, but also weather, mud, and boredom. And that's without mentioning Major Sebastian Shaw who thinks war is the best thing that's ever happened to him and never should've been allowed to pick up a scalpel, or Colonel William Stryker who may or may not work for the CIA and probably doesn't even know himself.

Throw in new arrival Captain Charles Xavier, and Erik is in for a very interesting war.

Note: Unfinished

A Light That Never Goes Out – R_Cookie

Summary: It was meant to be the war to end all wars; these two men were never supposed to meet. One a German Jew, the other a British surgeon. The odds that their paths should cross were next to none - but War defies the expected. It always has, and always will.

From the beaches of Dunkirk to the treacherous slopes of Monte Cassino - this is their story.

WWII AU.

Note: Unfinished

[plainbrunettelbl]

ABO (A) Store Owner Amajiki Tamaki x (O) Mail-Order Bride Reader Salt Water Taffy (Part Two)

Word count: 3344

Warnings: None. 

Title: ABO (A) Store Owner Amajiki Tamaki x (O) Mail-Order Bride Reader Salt Water Taffy (Part Two)

Summary: You are getting used to working with Tamaki. That doesn’t mean it isn’t hard not to pine after him. 

(Gif not mine) 

🐙-It had been two weeks since you started working with the timid Alpha. Things were going well, you had settled in quite nicely. Although, the first morning you stayed at Tamaki’s house was a bit nerve-wracking.

🐙-When Tamaki had dropped you off that night he had told he would be by in the morning to walk you to work. You had woken up early to make him a nice breakfast as a thank you for everything he has done for you.  

🐙-The kitchen was a little bare but he had rounded up a little basket containing some kitchen staples you might need from his store. You had protested but he waved it off and said it was another welcome gift. 

🐙-You now stood over an oven making pancakes and sausage links. 

🐙-The kitchen was pretty spacious. There was a small two-person table near the window on the right-hand wall. You had opened up it to let out some of the heat that the cooking was causing. The white curtains swayed with the wind. 

🐙-You pulled out the dishware and had just placed a plate of pancakes on the table when something jumped up at the window. It gave you such a fright that you knocked over a glass trying to get away from the sudden intruder. 

🐙-A small chirp escaped your chest. 

🐙-You didn’t know that Tamaki was just about to knock on the front door when he heard a crash and your distressed chirp. He was quick to push open the door and rush into the house. He found your shocked frame looking at the glass scattered around the floor. 

🐙-He took notice to your bare feet straight away. 

🐙-“Don’t move, Omega. I’ll come to you.” He softly ordered, walking towards you. 

🐙-Once he had gotten close enough he wrapped his arms around your waist and picked you up. You were shocked by his actions. You were also shocked that he could carry you so effortlessly. 

🐙-He might have not looked like it but the years of hauling crates food of paint cans and canned goods had done his body some good. 

🐙-He sat you down on a nearby wood counter before going over to the pantry and getting out the broom and dustpan. 

🐙-“Thank you, Tamaki.  I’m sorry I broke one of your glasses, Tamaki. I’ll be sure to replace it.” You apologized, saddened at the thought of him being mad at you. 

🐙-“It’s fine. I am sure I won’t even miss it. Is everything okay? I heard you chirp before I came in.” He looked over his shoulder while he swept up the glittering mess. 

🐙-“Something jumped at the window.” Your eyes shot to the opened window. The white curtains and prevented you from getting a good look at the intruder.  

🐙-A pink tongue and icy blue eyes greeted you. A smiling dog was leaning on the window sill holding his nose out like he was waiting for something. His coat had so many different colors you didn’t even know what breed of dog he was. 

🐙-Tamaki shook his head at the dog.

🐙-“I should have warned you about him. He is one of the neighbor’s dogs. His name is Charles but we call him Charlie since he was a puppy and it stuck.” He tossed the glass broken away before going over to the sausage plate and snagging one. 

🐙-Charlie let out a small woof at the action, eager to get it into his mouth. His tongue bouncing with every pant. 

🐙-“My mom used to give him a little bacon or sausage when he came by, he must have expected you to do the same. The house has been  vacant for a while so I figured he would stop coming.” He tossed the sausage out the window making the dog chase after it. 

🐙-“He seems nice. I was just surprised.” You jumped down from the counter and made your way over to the table. 

🐙-“You should see him around town a lot. Everyone loves him. He comes by the shop sometimes.” He smiled at the way your hair caught the sunlight, he couldn’t believe you looked so beautiful first thing in the morning.  

🐙-“I’ll make sure to give him something when he comes by. I probably gave him more of a fright then he did me.” You said, pouring some coffee into a cup for him. You moved the plate of pancakes in his direction. 

🐙-“I made pancakes for both of us.” You were slightly disappointed that you didn’t get to surprise him. 

🐙-He eyed the delicious-looking food on the table. He usually only had a cup of coffee in the morning, maybe two pieces of toast if he was really hungry. The steaming plate in front of him looked mouthwatering. 

🐙-His Alpha purred at your sweet gesture. 

🐙-“Thank you, Y/N.” He shot you a small smile before digging in. 

***

🐙-You had been working at the store for a few days now. You enjoyed chatting with everyone that came by. You knew the news about why you traveled here had gotten around town. You where afraid people would judge you but you received a warm welcome from all the townspeople. 

🐙-Today was the first time you were here when they restocked the shelves. Two young looking Alphas were coming in and out carrying crates of pickled goods and such. 

🐙-You would give them a friendly smile when they would walk by the front counter. 

🐙-The bell jingled when someone walked in, you looked to the door and saw a nicely dressed man enter the store. He had two-toned hair and different colored eyes. You were certain you had never seen him come in before. 

🐙-He eyed at the shelves with a perplexed look on his face. 

🐙-You leaned over the counter to gain his attention. “Is there anything I can do for you, Sir?” You asked, putting a smile on your face. 

🐙-His face was fairly blank but you could see the relief in his grey and blue eyes. He walked over to the counter in a hurry. He leaned forward like he was going to tell you a secret. 

🐙-“I was wondering if I could buy a ribbon?” He whispered, looking around like someone would be eavesdropping. 

🐙-You quirked a brow, confused about why he was being so secretive. 

🐙-“You mean a hair ribbon?” You questioned, looking him up and down. 

🐙-There was no ring on his finger and no mating bite on his neck. 

🐙-“Yes, it for an... acquaintance of mine.” He said, his eyes softening a bit. 

🐙-You could tell this acquaintance might be a little more than he let one. Your Omega was a sucker for romance and love so it didn’t take much to walk out from behind the counter and lead him to the back where you kept the ribbons. 

🐙-Each ribbon color and pattern were wrapped up on different wooden rolls. You would cut each piece to the desired length. You didn’t find yourself to be one for hair ribbons and hats but the lilac and indigo rolls did catch your eye now that you were looking at them. 

🐙-“We have a number of different colors and patterns. What do you think your acquaintance would like?” You asked, peering up at him. 

🐙-His bewildered look was back. 

🐙-“Umm. I think she mentioned gray and turquoise.” He said, struggling to go through his memories for an answer. He had to hold himself back from dwelling on her pretty face. 

🐙- You tried not to giggle when you realized he just stated his two eye colors. It seems this Omega was just enthralled with him as he was her. Your heart warmed for them. 

🐙-“Well, we have a lovely white daisy and turquoise ribbon. We also have a charcoal grey with a leaf pattern. Would those do?” You hummed, pulling each ribbon out and showing them to him. 

🐙-He trusted your opinion more than his and simply nodded hastily. He didn’t want anyone to see him back here. He was well respected around town and he wanted to keep it that way. 

🐙-What would his lumberjacks think if they found out he was buying ribbons for an Omega? He blanched at the thought. They wouldn’t respect him as a boss anymore. 

🐙-“Pardon me for saying but I believe you should get one more. A girl can never have too many ribbons.” You said, waving your hand at the selection once more. 

🐙-He bit his lip and nodded, not caring about how much he would be spending. 

🐙-“Any suggestions?” He inquired, looking at the ribbons. 

🐙-You observed him for a second before pulling a ribbon off the roll. 

🐙-“How about this lovely crimson ribbon with a rose pattern?” You said, offering it to him.

🐙-It was the same color as one side of his hair so you knew his Omega would be pleased by it. 

🐙-“That will do.” He nodded, looking towards the entrance again in case someone walked in. 

🐙-“Great! I’ll ring you up.” You smiled, cutting each ribbon before leading him back towards the counter. 

***

🐙-“That Omega working the front desk sure is a looker. I heard she was gonna marry the town drunk.” A young man’s voice said.

🐙-“If she had her sights set on Sora, I wouldn’t mind taking her out on a few courting dates. Do you think she would let me under her skirt?” Another boy joked, lifting up a crate of pickled goods. 

🐙-Both boys were outside the shop in the back, unloading all of their goods the store had purchased from their farm. They were completely clueless that the store owner was standing behind the slightly opened back door. 

🐙-He had been wanting to help out the boys with the boxes since he was sweet like that. Now there was nothing sweet about him. His Alpha was clawing at him to rough up the young boys. 

🐙-They were saying such vulgar things about his sweet Omega. No, not his Omega, his coworker.  

🐙-He pushed his Alpha down and shoved the door open with a little extra force. Both boys stopped what they were doing and looked his way. They had grown up with the timid Alpha and had never seen such aggression on his face before. 

🐙-“You know I have been offered a better price for pickled good from the next town over. I had been considering taking their offer and drawing up a contract.” He said, ice in his tone. 

🐙-“No! Don’t do that! Our daddy would have us work for the coal mines if it weren’t for you and your store.” The older of the boys stuttered, panic lacing his words. 

🐙-“Please, Sir! Our family relies on this contract with you.” The younger boy nearly cried he didn’t want to work in the dark, cold mines.

🐙-He wanted to let the boys suffer for a little while.  

🐙-“Maybe you’re right. My parents and yours are good friends it would be a shame if we stopped doing business. I’ll let them know I will consider it and to leave the option open if things come up in the future.” He warned, his eyes sharp as steel. 

🐙-Both boys nearly dropped to the floor in relief. 

🐙-“I want everything unpacked and stocked in twenty minutes’ time or else my mind might change again.” Tamaki threatened, before walking back into his store trying to act like his Alpha wasn’t clawing at him to turn back around and sock one of the boys. 

***

🐙-You had just waved goodbye to the stoic man when Tamaki came to the front. Your Omega immediately took notice in his scent. His scent usually reminded you of the smell of the outside after it rains. 

🐙-Now it had a slightly smoky scent like someone forgot to put out their campfire and the rain did it for them. 

🐙-“Is something wrong, Tamaki?” You asked, letting your Omega scent the room to calm him a little. 

🐙-“It’s nothing, Y/N. One of the boys dropped a crate and broke a few bottles. I’ll just take it out of their cut.” He said, his tone still a little cold. 

🐙- You don’t remember hearing anything drop.

🐙-Something must have happened to get him this riled, but if he didn’t want to talk about it then you weren’t gonna force him. You didn’t like that his scent was muddled. You needed to take his mind off of whatever it was. 

🐙-You knew just the thing. 

🐙-“Can I have your opinion on something, Tamaki?” You coaxed, walking out from behind the counter. 

🐙-“Y-yeah, sure.” He replied, still getting flustered anytime you would walk by him and your scent would flood his nose. 

🐙-You smelled so sweet. Like a cold strawberry on a summer day. He found himself putting strawberry jam on his toast in the mornings. Just a little something that reminded him of you.  

🐙-He follows you to the back of the store where the ribbon and hair accessories are. He instantly felt panicked. He has never seen you wear any hair accessories before. 

🐙-What was with the sudden interest? Did you have a courting date he didn’t know about? Even though he was a stereotypical protective Alpha a few minutes ago his Alpha couldn’t find it in him to growl and snarl at the idea. 

🐙-If you wanted to see another Alpha then he would accept that. Even if his Alpha and he were both whimpering at the thought. He still sometimes got mistaken for a Beta so he could understand if you wanted someone worthy of the title Alpha. 

🐙-You probably wouldn’t want to live in his empty parent’s house forever. You had come to this town looking to be bonded. It wouldn’t be surprising if you still had your heart open for suitors. 

🐙-This town was still growing but there seemed to be more Alphas than Omegas around. He nearly shuddered at all the free available Alphas in town. 

🐙-“Which color do you think I get? I like this soft lilac color but this deep indigo one is so pretty.” You hummed, softly caressing both of them. 

🐙-Your bright eyes looked up at him, he felt his heart stutter in his chest. 

🐙-What he wouldn’t give to wake up in the morning and have those sweet orbs be the first things he sees. 

🐙-“Umm, why the sudden interest in ribbons?” He questions, trying not to show you how nervous he was of your response. 

🐙-“A man came in today and bought a few. I never really paid attention to them before but these two colors caught my eye. Plus since I’m the first person people see when they come into the store it wouldn’t hurt to have a nice ribbon in my hair every once in a while.” You informed, still looking down at the soft ribbons.

🐙-You weren’t gonna admit that they reminded you of him. The indigo one matched his hair color perfectly. 

🐙-He was nearly jumping in joy at your answer. His Alpha was panting in relief. You just wanted to seem more presentable for the shop. He would have told you he wouldn’t mind you dressed in a potato sack while greeting his custom’s but he held his tongue.  

🐙-“O-oh. If that is your intention then I’ll give them to you for free.” He said, grabbing the cloth scissors and cutting said ribbons before you could reject. 

🐙-“Tamaki! You can’t just keep giving me stuff for free! You have to make a profit.” You huffed, putting your hands on your hips. 

🐙-Refusing the ribbons when he offered them. 

🐙-“My shop isn’t gonna fall apart because I gave you one too many taffy's and a couple of ribbons.” He reassured, letting a small smile grace his face, while his heart pumped nervously in his chest. 

🐙-He felt like he was giving you a courting gift for some reason. Maybe it was because he never really gifted anything to an Omega before. The ribbons wouldn’t count as a courting gift, he didn’t make them. 

🐙-He had to admit he was disappointed they weren’t handmade. Heaven knows he would want nothing more than to court you. 

🐙-It wouldn’t be right though. Not only was he not a stereotypical Alpha but most importantly he was your boss. He didn’t want you to think he only hired you so he could court you. While he enjoyed your sweet scent and calming aura his main intention when hiring you was to help out a person in need.  

🐙-“Still...” You hesitated, your eyes starting at the indigo ribbon in his hand. 

🐙-His scent was probably rubbing off on them right now. If you accepted them then it meant you would get to take a little of his scent home with you. You Omega was nearly clawing at you to take them. She wanted them in her nest. 

🐙-“How about half off?” You peered up at him, his eyes widening just a little when your sweet eyes meet his. 

🐙-You knew he was stubborn when it came to giving you what he deemed necessary. He has slipped you one too many taffy's while you would work the front counter. 

🐙-You can’t say you Omega wasn’t jumping in joy every time he would slide the sweet treats your way. You had become particularly fond of the currant flavor but also chewed on the cherry one every now and then. 

🐙-He couldn’t say no to those sweet eyes. 

🐙-“Fine, half off.” He agreed, adoring the way you bounced on your feet in triumph. 

🐙-You quickly took the ribbons from him, your Omega wanting to feel their soft texture against her fingers again. 

🐙-The mood was broken when a clinking sound was heard. One of the boys had come inside to stock the shelves. He was clever enough not to look in their way. He could faintly see the boy’s hand shaking while putting up a jar. 

🐙-“How about we take a break? The Tanaka boys are still unloading so they will be here to watch the store. What do you say we go down to my friend’s bakery and try some of his sweets?” He said, covering your body with his has he began to lead you out of the store. 

🐙-“What? Now? Are you sure we can just leave?” You wondered, confused at his offer. 

🐙-“It will only be a short break. Just enough time to eat a piece of cake and come back.” He convinced, gently pushing you out the door. 

🐙-His Alpha was snarling at him. He didn’t want those boys anywhere near you. The thought of their nasty words made his blood boil again. It didn’t help that they were Alphas too. 

🐙-“Cake?” You repeated, your hesitation evaporating in an instant. 

🐙-“Cake and other things. Tai isn’t shy when serving his costumers, especially his friends.” He said, his hand hovering over your back while walking down the street. 

🐙-“Wait, I didn’t get to put up my ribbons.” You realized, still holding them in your hands. 

🐙-Your dress didn’t have any pockets, you had planned to store them behind the counter until you could take them home when the shop closed. Tamaki had begun to walk you home after he finished locking up.

🐙-Tamaki took them from you and rolled them up before sliding them into his front pocket. 

🐙-“Remind me to give them to you when I drop you off at home today.” He said, giving you a shy smile before walking on. 

🐙-He was already thinking of ordering a strawberry shortcake for the two of you. 

🐙-Your Omega swooned, not only was she getting cake but her ribbons were gonna be dowsed in his scent when it came time to collect them. 

🐙-Today was a good day. 

Finally a second part for Tamaki! I have been promising it forever and I am glad it is seeing the light of day. What are your thoughts? Will Tamaki finally get the guts to court her?  Who was Shoto buying the ribbons for? Another possible addition to the western AU?  

We will see. I hoped you enjoyed reading. Please reblog and leave a like. Both really motivate me to continue writing. 

[nad-zeta]

Seasons

Pairings: Vlad x Reader

Words: 1400

Comments: Eeeeeeeek! I'm not even going to try and hide my intentions this weekend! ❤☺hehe this is for a special little cutie who goes far too underappreciated,☺😳😳😳😳 sooooo here I am dubbing it appreciation weekend for this special dear hehehe! Who is this cutie you might ask? Well, we will just have to find out! ❤❤😳😳

.*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:。’ .*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:。’･ﾟ｡.*:・’ﾟ: ｡.*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:。’ .*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ

Life works in mysterious ways, or at least that is what the white-haired pure blood thought when he observed the humans.

Lucky, he thought them to be— for, in their short lives, they were allowed a singular soulmate. A life companion to share the load— a place to call home— a safe haven for their hearts, and most of all, someone to share stories and memories with.

He had known no such luck being born and raised a so-called creature of the night, a vampire — pureblood— destined to walk the earth alone for all eternity. Time forever stopped while the world around him continued to move along.

That is until one curious morning when the last grain of the immortal hourglass had fallen, and the clepsydra had been turned over once more— new golden grain falling through the cracks to mark a new beginning.

It started in the months of autumn, a curious little dot appeared on his wrist— he thought nothing of it at the time— thought it to perhaps be a mole or sunspot of sorts. Surely it would leave his porcelain skin in due time, vampiric blood not allowing anything to plague the body for too long.

The world around him started to wither, as leaves discoloured and fell from the trees, staining the earth with a new colour pallet of golden hues. The once warm, humid breeze turned nippy and cheeky with its trick of the mind days. Not being able to decide whether it wanted to be hot or cold—or perhaps it liked to keep the earth on its toes. Despite the sun beaming down, jackets needed to be fished out of the winter storage, lest you wanted to be subjected to autumn chill.

Autumn was a time of housekeeping, not only bringing about warm blankets and soft cuddles but also the time to prepare landscapes for the winter months and the brilliant spring to follow.

Vlad would be out during these months, deadheading his beloved roses and collecting the fallen leaves to make his own compost. A fresh patch of soil would be dug and tuned to plant an array of autumn beauties into his beloved garden. An array of pansies and violas were expertly selected for the task of bringing vibrancy and colour into this sanctuary of his— as the world continued to transform with the season, fading in like a softly sung hymn.

The first mark of the winter season had begun with the wind howling through the breeze; he hadn’t noticed it before, but as the season progressed, so did the little mark tainting his skin.

One morning while he was out and about bringing in some of the more delicate plants— to protect them from the imminent biting frost that would sweep across the land with the first peek of the morning sun— something curious caught his attention. Crimson eyes roved over the surface of his skin and instantly widened— mind you, he almost dropped the pot nestled between his bicep and chest— when he saw the thin inkling on his skin. A soft gasp escaped his lips as he placed the potted plant down on the kitchen counter and traced his long delicate fingers over the new line that had formed.

Winters were cold—too cold— too cold to move, and far too cold to function. Yet Vlad would still be out in the trenches, come hell or high snow, pruning his fruit trees and planting his winter crop. Despite the dead desolate world outside the castle walls, his garden continued to flourish and flow with life. Pops of colours contrasted the pure white blanket covering the earth— hellebores, camellias and glories of the snow being tended to, and bringing a smile to Vlad’s face. Of course, Marshmallow enjoyed the winter months far too much, springing around the snow as Vlad nurtured his lovely garden.

When evening would settle, and the temperatures would drop to unholy coldness, Vlad would sit in his library with Marshmallow, comfortably nestled in his lap and read. Mark, seemingly forgotten with the rush of the winter bang.

Next was spring, oooh, wonderful spring. The snow finally melting, and the earth once again changing, taking on a new form, a new colour palette, if you will. The world around seemed to blossom, making it easy to forget the once barren wasteland that swept across the land like a plague only a few weeks prior.

In the early days of spring, Vlad would be out hardscaping, assessing the winter damage, fixing up his bed, and expanding his garden. It was one of Vlad’s favourite times of the year. He would often spend the warm spring days in his gorgeous garden, simply sitting in the peace, surrounded by the orchestra of nature. Enjoying the fragrant cup of strawberry tea while admiring the labour of the fall and winter growth. The true test— to see which of his hardy bulbs had withstood the winter’s chill to bring about their blessings to his garden. And sure enough, his nurturing green thumb encouraged even the most delicate of flowers to take up residence in his garden and brighten the landscape.

Oooh, and another reason to love spring? It was strawberry planting season!

Vlad would practically be buzzing with excitement as his pale hands dug through the dirt to deposit the tiny seeds of his all-time favourite snack. He hummed gently, the floral breeze carrying his soft voice through the garden like a prayer and a blessing to all his plants.

Sitting back on his heel with a satisfied smile, he grabbed hold of his hand towel to clean the dirt from his hands. One stain, however, refused to budge, ingrained in his skin and seemingly spreading like venom with the passing of time. He contemplated asking Charles to take a look at it, or hell, even Faust, but ultimately thought better of it.

It intrigued him —this little thing that seemed to change shape and form with the seasons. His fingers traced over it then, down the long line, following the delicate curves, round and round— mind racing to decipher. And that is when out of the corner of his eyes, he caught sight of the tulips he had planted during the winter, now breaking through the surface with blossoming buds. That’s it— his crimson eyes widened, connecting the dots and seeing a pattern in the mark that had been plaguing his skin. A blossoming flower? A tulip, perhaps? 'A sentimental promise of love that will never grow old,' he mused with a hum, thinking of the various Floriography he had studied through the years. ‘But what use or place had it had on his skin?’ came his next thought. Fingers tracing over it once more, his shoulders shot up to shrug it off as he continued to prepare his garden for summer.

Summer once more! The most fantastic time of the year for one reason and one reason only. It was the time of the year the strawberries could be harvested and enjoyed. Oooh, how Vlad loved summers and indulging in his favourite strawberry treats. Garden in its full glory at the peak of its majesty filled with vibrancy and brilliance. It felt like something from a storybook, a fairytale garden with butterflies and bees dancing from flower to flower, birds happily chirping in the trees, and the crisp floral notes combined with sunshine carried through the air. Even his flower shop would be bright and magical with all the various summer flowers out on display.

The ring of the bell announced a curious customer one summer afternoon, and within moments his heart stopped. A breathtaking woman entered the store, one who seemed to not quite belong—radiating an air of old and new. He watched quizzically from the counter as she wandered around the flower shop before bright eyes met his own.

He had not known it before, but now, with time seemingly stopped between the two, he knew. He was in the summer of his life, and with her by his side, the summer would continue forever.

For life did work in mysterious ways, and the moment he shook her hand in introduction, the inked stain finally bloomed and filled with colour to match the one hidden beneath her sleeve: a matching pair of purple tulips, a symbol of everlasting love.

:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:。’ .*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:。’･ﾟ｡.*:・’ﾟ: ｡.*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:。’ .*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ

[gloryofluv]

Order Up! (Coffee Shop AU) Chapter 5

Well, I guess Alex is going through the motions. I am really starting to love how well-rounded this is getting. Flirty fics are fun, but they always need heart and perseverance!

Chapter

1 - 2- 3 - 4

Fuck. Why did she do that? Alex wanted to toss her phone but knew she couldn’t afford a new one yet. Memories. Social media keeps track even if you don’t. She was bundled on the ground of the bathroom she just cleaned and sobbed.

All she wanted to do was look at this real estate agent that Lucifer texted her. She glanced down at the picture of her and her mother while she was getting dressed for prom. Would she be upset that she was thinking of selling their home? Would she be proud? She felt so fucking alone.

There was a knock at the bathroom door, and she stuttered on a breath. Fucking get it together, girl. She wiped her face and nodded. “I’ll be out momentarily,” she said in a cheery tone.

Breathe. Stand up. Bitch, buck the fuck up, you’re at work. Alex listened to her inner dialog, turned on the water to the sink, cleaned her hands and face, and fixed her makeup. After she was satisfied, she picked up her tool tote and walked to the door with a plastered smile.

Solomon was on the other side of the door. “Hey, Alex,” he said with a curl to his lips.

“Hey, Sol, how are you doing?” she asked.

“Not horribly. I’m a bit stuck on this formula, but it’s bound to come to me,” he voiced while walking in step with her.

She rocked her head and shifted at the entrance to the counter. “Let me just go put this away and clock out. We can chat a minute after I’m off the clock.”

He rocked his head and leaned on the wall nearby. “Want to take a walk with me?”

She tilted her head and hummed. “Maybe.”

“Good, I’ll order, and we’ll head to the park.”

“Oh, good, we’re taking a walk to the park?”

Alex glanced over to see Satan wander over with his tea and pastry bag. “Oh, hey, Satan. I didn’t see you there.”

He tilted his head and gestured to his messenger bag. “I was grading pages.”

Solomon crossed his arms before touching his chin with his fingers. “You want to join us?”

Satan rocked his head. “A little fresh air would be great.”

“Okay, let me just go finish up,” Alex smiled and walked to the back of the shop. Well, it was quite the variation, but after how interesting her Sunday had been, it wouldn’t be a bad thing. She turned to the computer after putting the tote away and clocked out. Shaking out her body and taking off her apron and hat, she rolled her neck.

There was something to be said about the smears on her uniform. Alex stripped off her overshirt and straightened her purple tank top, and pulled out her ponytail. After checking her face in the mirror and reapplying a few touches on her eyeliner and lip gloss, she was ready.

Better. Alex smiled and collected her bag before marching to the front again. Solomon and Satan seemed to be in a discussion about the book in Satan’s hand. Their hand gestures only confirmed the estimation as Alex walked over to collect her drink.

“Hey, babes,” Jess hummed. “Do you think you could do me a favor and take my Friday shift, and I’ll take your Saturday one. It's closing, and I have a date.”

Alex rocked her head. “Yeah, I can. You never ask me to trade, so they must be pretty hot,” she teased.

Jess smirked and rocked her head. “Yeah, Mr. Macchiato, who comes in the evenings.”

“Nice, well, I hope you have tons of fun. Text Jordan and let him know, alright?”

Jess beamed and blew a kiss. “You’re a lifesaver for my social life, hun.”

Alex waved and met up with the two intellectuals holding their beverages. “I’m just saying that Dickens wasn’t as extraordinary as we make him out to be,” Solomon huffed.

“Oh, no, we’re on about Charles again?”

Satan laughed and shook his head as they walked out the door. “Just Solomon’s primary dagger.”

“Solomon, do you just enjoy debating?” Alex asked.

Solomon smiled and shifted his head from side to side. “Occasionally, but so does Satan, so we have a mutual understanding never to take it to blows.”

“I think the Brontë sisters are probably a staple for every woman,” Alex added to the conversation.

“And men,” Satan nodded.

“Very true, but we need to selectively decide what mannerisms are dated in order to value the interpretation,” Solomon voiced.

Alex smirked and raised her hand to her chest. “'Do you think I am an automaton? — a machine without feelings? And can bear to have my morsel of bread snatched from my lips and my drop of living water dashed from my cup? Do you think, because I am poor, obscure, plain, and little, I am soulless and heartless? You think wrong! — I have as much soul as you — and full as much heart!'” She paused after the quote and laughed. “Imagine declaring equality to a man who was higher in rank and stature than you in that time. The dated behavior is only setting.”

Satan let out a stream of hearty laughter. “Oh, Alex, I would have loved to have you in my class today. There was a sexist animal who was definitely in need of a strong female to set him straight.”

“My little Jane isn’t very plain,” Solomon chuckled and waved his hand.

“No, she isn’t,” Alex laughed before sipping her iced tea.

“I was referring to you,” Solomon hummed.

Alex smirked at him and shrugged. “I do pretty well, I suppose.”

Satan cleared his throat, drawing Alex’s attention to her left. “So, you realized that half your customers are my brothers.”

Alex rocked her head. “Yes, I was informed of that by Belphegor in a rather creative way.”

“I heard,” Satan laughed. “We all live together.”

“So I’ve heard,” she smiled.

“Interesting dynamic,” Solomon voiced. “All seven of them together.”

“They also throw some ridiculous parties,” Alex said and then waved her free hand in a circle. “From what I’ve heard.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I know you live across the street,” Satan snorted with a smug smile. “I’ve known longer than Lucifer.”

Alex gasped as they walked on the sideway in the park. “What?”

Satan chuckled and rocked his head. “Yes, I knew from Jordan. I was the one to buy his motorcycle.”

She shrieked and gasped. “Oh! That’s why I’ve seen it around the cafe.”

Satan wagged his eyebrows. “So yes, I’ve known for about four months. He pulled it out of your garage and brought it over. When I asked why he moved, he told me about your circumstance and why he was torn, but family comes first.”

“It does,” Alex smiled. “His mother was great to me when my parents died. She practically lived with me for the first six months. Then Jordan moved in, and he got me a job at the cafe. He’s always been like my big brother. So when his dad got injured at work and couldn’t work, I told him to move home to help.”

“How did you both meet?” Solomon questioned.

“Oh, that’s a funny story, actually. So, in middle school, he was a grade above me, and I was super shy. He saw me being harassed by some asshole. He stepped in and smoothed the situation. I was so shocked he was able to do so without violence. Jordan took me to the bathroom, cleaned me up, and told me that the only bitches in our life are the beautiful bitches we can be, so I needed to learn to walk like it. From then on, he just started pulling me into his antics,” she explained and laughed while shaking her head.

“You were shy?” Satan questioned.

Alex stopped drinking her tea and nodded. “I actually am in general. I took his advice to heart. I’m friendly and enjoy people, but I don’t have very many people I consider close with.”

“Is this why you aren’t dating anyone?” Solomon questioned.

Alex narrowed her eyes at him and smirked. “Yes.”

“Liar,” Solomon smiled.

“Wait, I really find this fascinating. You aren’t close to any family?” Satan asked.

Alex shrugged and hummed. “My aunts and uncles all live in different parts of the country. I was an only child, and now that my parents aren’t here, the only people I see are Jordan and his parents. Jordan’s sister left for a university across the country two years ago. I see them probably once a month.”

“You live alone? Like no one ever comes to knock on your door or calls your phone?” Satan questioned with a scowl.

“Well, I won’t be living there much longer,” Alex sighed. “I have to sell the place, so I’ll have to clear it out in the next couple of weeks. The financial officer, my parents, left in charge, said that the funds wouldn’t cover the expenses this next year, so it would be a good idea for me to sell.”

“Hm,” Solomon murmured. “I could help.”

“No,” Alex shook her head. “It’s time. I don’t need handouts, Sol. I appreciate it, but no.”

“Why do you feel like you have to do everything alone?” Satan asked as they rounded the outside of the park.

Alex breathed and shook her head. “It’s such a long story.”

“Your parents?” Solomon voiced.

This analysis was cathartic in a way, and Alex felt this heavyweight being pulled from her shoulders. “Well, yes and no. I was telling my mother before she passed that I was thinking of taking a year off to go with my boyfriend at the time to travel the world. She was so supportive, even though it would put my education in jeopardy. When they died, he bailed with some other girl, so I kind of just stopped relying on others.”

Satan tutted and exhaled. “To be an idiot teenager who couldn’t handle grief. I’m sorry you had to go through that, especially at such a young age.”

Alex smiled and shrugged as they made their way back to the cafe. “I’m pretty good. I have a degree. I’ll have a decent nest egg to pay for my schooling for an even better education and my best friend. I’m doing pretty well.”

“I have an intrigue before we conclude our adventure into your life,” Solomon hummed.

Alex tilted her head as she grinned at him. “What’s that?”

“You are strong without someone, but it makes it so much richer to share your heart with others,” Solomon declared.

“Says the man who has done his fair share of that,” Satan snorted.

Solomon rolled his eyes. “Satan, don’t cast stones in glass houses.”

“You have been married three times now,” Satan snorted.

News. Alex raised her eyebrows. “Three times? Aren’t you like barely forty?”

“I resent that,” Solomon scowled. “No, I am not. However, marriage and love are difficult measurements in a formula very few understand. I’m difficult.”

“I actually like that about you,” Alex laughed.

Satan scowled as they stopped at the sidewalk near the cafe. “You enjoy that he’s difficult, but you won’t text me?” he questioned with a sly smile.

She puffed and pulled his phone from his bag’s pocket. It was sticking out and available. Alex then went to his keypad, dialed her number, and pressed the call. Her phone soon rang, and she hung up.

“Now, you have my number. Stop trying to make me do all the work, you pushy professor,” she snorted and handed his phone back.

Satan was grinning as he pocketed his phone. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Solomon handed her his phone, and she groaned but did the same exact thing. “If you both call me all the time, I will block your number,” she teased.

“If you need any help with your house, please tell me,” Solomon nodded. “I am quite organized.”

“I will,” Alex smiled.

Solomon tossed his cup in the trash and smiled before walking to his car. Alex watched him wave and climb inside before driving off in the silver vehicle. Satan shifted and tilted his head when she turned back to him.

“Did you want to have dinner with me tonight? I’ll cook,” Satan offered.

“Just because we’re temporarily neighbors does not mean I’m a booty call, understood?” Alex questioned.

Satan snorted and straightened his shirt. “You’re far too interesting to blow on a booty call, Alex.”

“Just had to make it clear. I would take your offer for dinner, but I’m actually exhausted. Diavolo came in for a coffee tasting, and I hosted it. Since then, I’ve just been drained.”

Satan rocked his head. “Well, I’ll ask tomorrow then,” he smiled and shrugged. “You’ll eventually say yes,” he chuckled and walked over to the motorcycle.

Alex smiled and observed as he slid on his helmet, waved, and climbed on the bike. Bad boy, professor. Pretty sexy. That tickled her to no end. He pulled out with a roaring shift of gears and headed in the same direction she needed to go. Home. Even if it was just for now.

@rsmrymnt-tea @otome-scribbles

[lupinlongbottom]

Practically a Weasley pt. 2

Charlie Weasley x Reader

Summary: Home for the holidays! Finally, after the end of a bitter war, the Weasleys have some much needed family time to catch up on. The holidays are the perfect time to celebrate family, no? Charlie and (Y/N) seem to agree. 

Word Count: 3.8k+

Warnings: None

A/N: A much anticipated part 2 to my Practically a Weasley fic! I love writing for Charlie. Dragon boy just doesn’t get much love, does he? Also Fred ain’t dead. My heart couldn’t handle that if it were true. 

Part 1 ... Part 1.5  ... Part 3 ... Epilogue

__

The Burrow was fluttering with delight, the holidays had been finally sworn in with the arrival of the entire Weasley clan. How long had it been since most of the redheaded family sat under one roof, let alone one table? With everyone’s various lines of work and hectic schedules, it was a surprise and a holiday miracle even half of them had shown up.

Bill was enchanting the younger children with vast stories of his work as a curse-breaker (with a little exaggeration, of course). Molly and Arthur were bickering about him bringing yet another Muggle artifact home for the holidays. And Charlie? He sat quietly at the end of the table, humming along to Celestina Warbeck’s newest album, gingerly holding (Y/N)’s hand with delight.

Nothing had changed, not really, not ever.

“How do you know all of the words already? She just released these songs like, two days ago?” (Y/N) chuckled, taking a small sip of the hot beverage in front of her.

“I have a perfect memory,” Charlie mused, rubbing his thumb in circles on the back of her hand. “Or, did you forget?”

“I suppose I did, Mr. Weasley.” (Y/N) grinned, eyes flitting across the various freckles under his brown eyes.

“Such a shame, you really ought to know better, Mrs. Weasley.” A soft peck danced across their lips.

Ah. So something had changed.

“Ew.” Fred spat, eyeing his older brother down from across the table.

“Double ew,” George retorted. “Get a room.”

“They’re married, you gits,” said Ginny, bumping Fred in the arm. “Let them be.”

“She’s my best friend!” groaned Fred.

“Wow,” muttered George, a hand rising to his chest. “After all we’ve been through, Freddie? I’m gutted.”

(Y/N) chuckled quietly at the twins, now not-so-playfully fighting each other across the table. “They’ll never grow up, will they?” Whilst the twins began their fight to the death via dull forks, the newlywed couple pulled away from one another for the first time in hours.

“No, I reckon not,” Charlie hummed, rising from his seat. “If they’re going to continue on like this, I might as well pour myself a glass of firewhisky. Did you want one, love?”

Silently, (Y/N) shook her head, allowing Charlie to flee the scene for a few moments. The album had finally reached the end of the track, resulting in Molly starting it right back up. Ron and Ginny groaned gaudily, as this had been the fifth time she had done so this evening. The two shut right up after Bill had sent them both a quick and sharp glance.

“I must say,” Molly began. “I never imagined the lot of us sitting around one table again,” The war had reached its climatic end only a few months prior, wounds starting to finally heal. “I’m truly blessed to have almost my entire family together for the holidays—”

“—minus Perce, Fleur and Harry, of course!” George piped up.

“Right,” Molly cleared her throat. “As I said, almost the entire family.”

“Fleur sends her regards, truly. But with the condition her mother is in right now, she needed to be home,” Bill responded, again apologizing for his wife’s lack of attendance. “And Percy and Harry will be joining us in the coming days, no?”

“Yeah,” Ron nodded, leaving the absence of his brother and best friend at that. “Harry’s got some errands to run, or whatever. I reckon he’s out buying gifts even when we asked him not to.” Ron chuckled.

“Well, regardless of who isn’t here, we still have a large family. A growing family at that!” Arthur rejoiced, causing (Y/N)’s face to drop slightly. “It’s (Y/N)’s first holidays as an official Weasley!”

(Y/N) felt her face flush. A sigh of relief. “Oh Arthur, that’s hardly anything to celebrate…”

“Hogwash,” Charlie retorted, returning with his promised firewhisky, and a glass of water for (Y/N). “You can’t escape now, you’re sorta in it for life, yeah?”

“I feel like it’s already been a lifetime, love.” She chuckled. “Besides, just because we signed some stupid paper and wear these rings—”

“—wonderfully selected by your adoring husband.” Charlie mused, wriggling his left hand. The cool silver shone off his hand, a matching band with (Y/N)’s delicate ring.  

“You know what I mean, Charles.” snickered (Y/N). “I mean, I’ve practically been a Weasley since second year!”

“It’s true,” George paused, setting his fork down. “I mean, we would’ve married her first but—”

“—we were too busy being repulsed by the thought!” Fred finished, poking his tongue out slightly.

(Y/N) returned the gesture.

“You lot will never grow up,” said Molly, shaking her head. “Whatever the case, I’m truly blessed to have another daughter.” 

“Mum, just remember to think about the daughter you’ve always had, yeah?” Ginny laughed, causing the entire table to join in.

__

Hours passed, with it, a final read through of (Y/N)’s latest project. The sequel to The Distracted Dragon. While she had intended to finish the novel earlier, something larger than herself had erupted in their little world that needed attending to. The various fans of the first story were surely gutted, but to be completely fair to all involved, a war seemed like a pretty eminent reason to move the newest addition on the back burner.

“So you’re telling me… Bancroft gets a girlfriend?” Ron asks, looking to (Y/N) for an answer. She hesitantly gave a nod. “That’s the moral of the story? Get yourself a girlfriend and all your problems will be solved?”

“No,” Fred sniffed, moved by the book. “Ronnie, the moral is that sometimes we need help from another person to grow and accept our past!” With a loud honk into a tissue, he continued to weep.

“Nah, I still think that Harriet solved his problems.” Ron shrugged, popping a crisp into his mouth.

As Fred began to argue with Ron louder, chiming in about Hermione, Charlie gave (Y/N) a simple nod, aiming upwards towards the stairs. She got the hint quickly and excused herself.

“Tired of it yet?” asked Charlie, grabbing (Y/N)’s hand gingerly as they walked up the stairs towards his room. Bill had offered to stay in the twins room while (Y/N) was here, letting the newlyweds to have a space to themselves.

“No, not yet,” replied (Y/N). “Though,” She opened the door. “I’m rather pleased at how keenly Fred took to the book.”

“Ah,” He sat on the bed, waving his wand to shut the door once more. “He’s a bit of a romantic, no?”

“Fred? A romantic?” She laughed, pulling on her pajamas. A simple purple nightie, just touching the tops of her knees. “As if. He’s just… more in tune with the details I reckon.”

“Details… sure. Whatever you say, flower.” Charlie began to pull his socks off, eyeing his wife up and down. “You know… I bet the entire lot downstairs is going to be busy for a while.”

“Oh?” (Y/N) mused, flicking the lights off. “Busy, you say?”

Charlie nodded. “With Ron and Fred’s arguing, they sure drown out the sound, no?” He wriggled his eyebrows, climbing under the quilt next to his wife. A gentle hand caressed her thigh lightly.

“Charlie,” (Y/N) sighed, almost annoyed. “As lovely as the thought is,” He began peppering kisses to her neck, slowly down to her collarbone. “We shouldn’t.”

“Love,” more kisses. “It’s not like we’ve never fooled around up here before,” said Charlie, leaving a suckling mark below (Y/N)’s ear. “You love the risk.”

(Y/N) gently pushes Charlie away. “You’ve had too much firewhisky,” said (Y/N), pecking her husband once on the lips. “And I’m not feeling up for it.”

“Flower, I barely had any firewhisky,” he laughed. “Not nearly as much as you drink, well, normally anyhow,” a puzzled look adorned his freckled face. “Why didn’t you drink tonight? It’s Christmas Eve!”

“Are you saying I need to drink to have a good time?” (Y/N) accused, only half offended.

“Of course not! But you do find any and all reasons to have a nice drink at gatherings like these, it's odd, s’all,” He shrugged. “I mean, it’s a holiday! With the family. Our family. What better time to drink?”

“I didn’t feel like it.” (Y/N) mumbled, flopping down under the covers, turning away from her husband.

“I sense that you’re lying, love.” Charlie said, rubbing her arm gently. “You’re my wife…” mewled Charlie, hanging onto the last word longer than usual. “I’m keen to noticing these things.”  

“Oh yeah?”

“Indeed,” he quipped. “You have a rather easy tell, too.” Charlie gave a quick side glance in (Y/N)’s direction, smirking. “You tend to push your hair behind your ears, bite your lip and flick your eyes ever so slightly.”

“I do that all the time.” mumbled (Y/N).

“Does that mean? No…” Charlie gasped. “Could you’ve been lying to me the whole time I’ve known you?”

“Charlie…” (Y/N) groaned.  

“Okay, fine,” He laughed. “But you’ve been acting off these last couple of weeks. Not drinking, barely getting any sleep—”  

“—which I’m trying to do right now, thank you!” (Y/N) quipped, pulling the covers higher.

“Your mood has been real shit lately too. One moment you’re all smiles, the next you want to send me to the dog house just for looking at you.” Charlie sighed. “And I know it’s not,” his voice lowered to a whisper. “‘that time of the month’ yet, because it was last week, right?”

“No, and stop talking about my period like you’re afraid to say it.”

“Huh… It’s normally around the third week of the month, no?” He mumbled. With a gentle shake of his head, he continued. “Flower, all I’m trying to say is that even when you went to the doctor, they didn’t diagnose you with anything, right? I’m just worried something is wrong with you, (Y/N)”

“Nothing is wrong with me, Charlie.”

“Nothing? You run to the loo to empty your lunch like it’s your job,” He laughed. “I’ve never seen you like this. It’s almost as if—”

He stopped.

“Charlie?” (Y/N) turned around to check on her husband. Charlie just sat, staring forward. “Honey?” 

“(Y/N),” He continued to stare forward. “Are you…?”

“Darling,” She sat up, gingerly grabbing his hands. “Look at me.” 

Charlie’s eyes were brimming with tears, begging to be let go.

“I wanted to tell you tomorrow, a Christmas present,” (Y/N)’s eyes were swimming with matching tears. “But I guess one present early couldn’t hurt, no?” 

His eyes flicked back and forth from his wife’s, waiting for any sign of an answer. (Y/N) nodded her head slightly, fighting back the tears. Charlie wrapped his arms around his wife, hugging her tightly, afraid to let her go. “You’re kidding!” A flurry of kisses brimmed (Y/N)’s head, forming a crown upon her temple. “Love! This is a great—no—the best gift you could’ve given me”

“You’re excited?” asked (Y/N), giggling in her husband’s embrace.

“Of course I’m excited,” Charlie pulled away slightly, meeting his brown eyes with (Y/N)’s, darting between the two rapidly. “A baby. Our baby.”

In an instant, their lips met. Softly at first, crescendoing slowly into an intensity as bright as the stars above, burning hot at the sight. The moment was broken only by the parting for air, quickly returning to the fire before. Was it the thrill of their family below? Or the joy of the family growing between the two? Perhaps it was a bit of both.

“How long?” asked Charlie, rubbing (Y/N)’s upper arm gently. “I mean, how far along are you?”

“Remember that Quidditch match your friend Andre invited us to?” (Y/N) giggled.

“I don’t remember much of the match,” Charlie said, scratching his head. “Come to think of it, you pulled me into an empty stall and we—” His cheeks flushed, burning up to the tips of his ears. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” (Y/N) laughed, brushing Charlie’s hair out of his eyes. “Andre’s team won in the end, by the way.” Another laugh.

“Well, I suppose we both scored,” Charlie joined in the laughter. “But that was about two months ago, no?”

“Something like that. I found out last week at the doctor’s office,” said (Y/N). “It was the hardest thing to keep from you! I was so scared that—”    

“—that I’d be upset?”

“Something of that sort, yeah,” (Y/N) mumbled. “Of course I was being a real idiot about the whole thing, I realized that the second you figured it out.” 

“Love, I come from a family of nine,” Charlie held his breath. “Now, that’s not to say I want to rival my parents in the baby-making contest, but I’ve always wanted a little piece of that happiness. Especially with you.” 

“Charlie if you keep saying shit like that I’m going to cry,” (Y/N) warned, choking back tears, a common theme in the past few minutes. “I can’t believe I was even remotely worried.”

“What was there to be worried about?” Charlie asked, stroking (Y/N)’s hair, fingers twisting the ends lightly.  

“I’m not sure. We just got married a little over a year ago, after a bloody war had started no less—”

“—to be fair, we got married during the war.”

“I suppose we technically eloped before the war was over.” (Y/N) mumbled, tracing her hand up Charlie’s chest, resting gently.

“We also got married before Bill,” Charlie laughed. “Not an important detail, but one that I like to rub in his face.”

“Besides your points,” (Y/N) rolled her eyes. “We’re newlyweds! We’re young! I mean, we never even really had the whole ‘baby’ talk before. I was worried we weren’t ready, hardly after a war,” (Y/N) gulped. “I was worried you’d be scared.”

“Love, of course I’m scared. Babies are terrifying,” said Charlie. “With their little hands and tiny feet.” He feigned a grimace, clearly joking. “But you’re right. We are young, but that just means more years of being a family, no?” 

“I guess…”

“Now, you’re also right about the ‘baby’ talk. We haven’t really talked about it,” Charlie looked down at (Y/N). “Let’s have it now.”

“I think it’s a little late for that.” (Y/N) giggled.

“Do you ever want to have kids?” Charlie asked, ignoring his wife’s growing laughter.

“Yes.” 

“Do you ever want to have a child together?”

“Of course.”

“Then that’s all that matters, right?” Charlie said, his brown eyes meeting (Y/N)’s. “Who cares if it’s a little before we might have planned? I know that we’re going to love the shit out of our child.”

“I know you’re right,” (Y/N) mumbled. “But you don’t have any worries about all of this?”  

“Only one,” said Charlie. “I mean, if it’s not a boy to take on the Weasley name, I may consider a divorce.” Charlie hummed, smirking lightly. 

“Charlie!” (Y/N) slapped his chest rather firmly, eliciting a slight groan from the redhead. “If you keep joking like that, I may consider divorce first.”

“Flower, you know I could never divorce you,” Charlie laughed, placing a kiss to his wife’s temple. “Besides, with the amount of brothers I have, the Weasley name is rather safe I reckon,” Another kiss to her temple. “Come on, let's get some sleep.” It took only a few fleeting kisses, happy murmurs and mumblings before the couple finally retired for the night.  

—

“Well, look at the lovebirds!” George sang from the kitchen table, setting his coffee mug down, eyeing up (Y/N) and Charlie descending from the stairs. “Unusually well rested. Obviously not taking advantage of their own room I see.”

“George,” said Molly, sternly shooting a glance at her son. “Happy Christmas you two.”

“Happy Christmas, mum,” said Charlie, placing a peck to his mother’s cheek. “Happy Christmas George.”

“Yeah, yeah. Christmas or whatever,” George sipped from his mug. “You lot slept in a bit, the rest of the family is outside. You know, completing a family tradition and whatnot. So disgraceful.”

“Ah, but the real disgrace, George, is the fact you also are missing out on the snow angels,” (Y/N) chirped, grabbing a plate of hot breakfast from Molly. “Besides, everyone’s coming in for breakfast soon anyway. No one can resist Molly’s cooking.”

“Oh (Y/N), you humor me,” Molly laughed, opening the window. “Breakfast!” She called out to the rest of her family. One by one, the clan filed into the kitchen, sitting in their respective seats.

“Mum, you outdid yourself again! This food looks delicious.” Bill said, piling a load of eggs onto his plate. He handed the skillet over in Ginny’s direction, eliciting a scowl to the yellow mush beneath her nose.

“Kiss-up.” Ginny mumbled, immediately passing the cooked eggs over to Ron.

The rest of the family began eating, enjoying a rare moment of silence in the Burrow. Only sounds of scraping forks and the occasional burp echoed through the walls. Fred and George were the first to finish their plate, diving into another round of home cooking immediately after. Charlie and (Y/N) sat together, gently hold each other’s hands while they ate, Charlie sitting at the end.

“While you’re all sitting down, I suppose now’s the best time for your gifts!” said Molly, cleaning up the table. She quickly exited the kitchen only to reappear with a rather large bag. “Careful not to get any muck on them, I don’t want to do any washing today.” With a flick of her wand, the colorful stack of wool dispersed evenly among the family, a jumper settling in everyone’s lap.

“Jumpers? Oh boy, what a surprise!” George laughed.

“Really shocked our socks off, mum!” Fred added, unfurling his pile of purple.

“Oh hush,” Molly smirked. “Just go put them on and humor your mother, would you? You seem to find every other opportunity to do so.”

The twins groaned and pulled the fabric over their heads, both of the violet jumpers were adorned with their store’s logo on the front. Bill’s had a niffler, Ron’s had a Chudley Cannons print, Ginny’s had two crossing brooms and Charlie’s had (not surprising anyone) a large white dragon.

“What about yours, love?” said Charlie, elbowing (Y/N) slightly, the light blue wool rubbing against her arm. She turned to face him, the green jumper was decorated with a book and quill, the cover oddly resembling her first book. “Wow! That looks amazing!” He exclaimed. “Mum, how do you keep making these year after year?”

“With patience and a whole lot of love.” Molly smiled.

“Her enchanted knitting needles help too,” Arthur added, brushing biscuit crumbs off his new maroon sweater, ignoring the icy glare from his wife. “Besides, it’s a tradition.”

“A tradition getting harder every year,” Molly sighed. “Thankfully none of you are getting married any time soon, no need to worry about adding any other jumpers to my long list!” She laughed.

“Besides for next year, of course.” said Charlie offhandedly. (Y/N) froze.

“Next year? What’s next year?” Bill asked.

“Yeah, I don’t reckon Fred or George are going to meet anyone by next Christmas.” said Ron.

“Hey!” The twins exclaimed.

“Well…” Charlie looked up, all eyes were on him. A quick glance was given to (Y/N), who shared an equally pale face as him. He shrugged, raising his eyebrows. “You never know when people can meet each other, no? I mean, (Y/N) and I met in a coffee shop of all places!”

“Charlie…” (Y/N) began.

“Hell, we even eloped! Do you know how easy it is to do that?” Charlie continued, nervously bumbling longer sentences. “We got married in like, an hour once we set our sights on it!” He chuckled loudly, trying to drown the attention away from his sweat.  

(Y/N) stood up, placing a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “Before Charlie continues to blabber like a right idiot,” she said, shutting her husband up successfully. He sighed loudly. “I’m pregnant.” The entire table sat in stunned silence.

“That’s amazing!” Fred shouted, breaking the silence, jumping from his seat. “My best friend is having a baby!” He wrapped (Y/N) in a large hug, gripping her tightly.  

“Again, am I chopped liver?” George laughed, running over to join the hug. “A baby! Promise that you’ll name him George! Or Fred. Not terribly picky on that.”

“Boys! You shouldn’t hug (Y/N) that hard,” said Arthur. The twins loosened their grip slightly. “Congratulations you two,” He glanced between the happy couple. “Children are a blessing.”

“Is that why you had seven of them?” Ron asked, getting slapped on the shoulder by his mother.

“Oh (Y/N),” Molly cooed, fighting back her tears. "My first grandchild! We couldn’t be more thrilled for you!” She ran over to Charlie, embracing him in the warmest bearhug she could’ve mustered. “I can’t wait to start knitting their jumper! It’ll be so tiny I won’t mind the extra on the list.”        

“How long have you been keeping that secret, Charlie?” Bill asked, smiling at his brother, amused at the kisses their mother was placing on Charlie’s cheek.

“He’s barely known a day,” (Y/N) frowned in Charlie’s direction. He smiled sheepishly. “I’ve only known for a week. It’s still early, but we’re excited.”

“I hope it’s a girl,” Ginny added. “That way we’d finally be on our way to have a boys versus girls Weasley quidditch match!” 

“With my quidditch skills and (Y/N)'s creative mind? I’m sure they’d be an amazing quidditch player!” Charlie bubbled in delight. “Though, how young would be too young to get them on a broom?” 

“Charlie! We’re not putting our baby on a broom!” (Y/N) scolded. “Besides, they could easily get my quidditch skills.” 

“But you don’t have any quidditch skills?” Fred said, cocking his head.

“You can hardly keep yourself up on a broom!” George added.

“Exactly,” (Y/N) hummed, sitting down, a hand resting on her barely existing bump. “I say we stop hypothesizing and projecting onto the baby. Whatever they choose to be and do will be great…” (Y/N) sighed. “Because Charlie and I are the best, so our baby is going to be the best baby ever.”

“Nailed it, darling.” said Charlie, high-fiving his wife.

“You two really deserve each other.” Ron groaned.

“We do,” Charlie hummed, beaming down to his wife. “We really do.”

With the big news out of the way, the Weasley’s enjoyed the rest of their holiday morning, welcoming Percy and Harry home later in the afternoon. Once the two were caught up on gifts and laughter, the family had finally found peace in their holiday. No more big secrets, no more stressing about keeping said secrets. Just a relaxing and calming holiday before the whirlwind of parenthood whisked Charlie and (Y/N) up into a tizzy. But they were ready.

They’re Weasleys, after all.  

__

General Tag List: @maralisa124 , @leighxlover , @hey-its-me-rai , @missihart23 , @biatheintrovert , @luna-xxxxx , @chocolaterumble, @why-am-i-sad-and-sleepy

Charlie Weasley Tag List: @sungoddessra , @crescent-ia , @phantom-pheonix , @dccomicnerd-world , @marveltrash99 , @graymountaingal, @storiesbycaroline, @mytinybaguette , @garbdump

want to be added to a tag list? hmu in the replies or ask box with what characters you’d like to be tagged with!

[wyslyyzr]

a vague timeline for things because marvel is fucked all across the board and i need some sense of continuity + solidifiying my past headcanons--this is close to what i had ran with in the past, just typed up again. 

1930: max eisenhardt is born in dusseldorf, germany. the eisenhardt family moves shortly thereafter to nuremburg; max has no memories of dusseldorf. this is the place his parents were born as well. reasonably, max considers nuremburg his home town. 

1933: ruth eisenhardt is born in nuremberg, germany, max’s younger and final sibling. 

1935-1938: max meets magda, the daughter of one of the lady janitors at the school he attended. 

1939: the eisenhardts, following an antisemitic outburst that shamed and injured max’s uncle erich, and a violent interaction with jakob’s former general from the first world war where he was beaten and thrown out of his office, and, finally, kristallnacht, move to warsaw in an attempt to escape the anti-jewish tensions. 

1940: the warsaw ghetto is built around them. 

1940-1942: the very young max turns into a food smuggler in the warsaw ghetto, acquiescing meals for both his family members and other jewish families with other boys. he has his bar mitsvah sometime in this period, despite not being 13, given the direness of the situation. 

1942: deportation to the treblinka camps begins. the eisenhardts flee yet again. on their way back to their hideout, they are captured by nazi regiment. the eisenhardts are executed, but jakob saves his son’s life by butting him out of the line of the bullets. regardless, max is knocked unconscious, and brought to a mass grave where he is dumped alongside his family.

1942-1944: max is found alive in the camp, and put to work for his impressively sturdy frame despite the harrow of starvation. in order to avoid being selected for death, max becomes a sonderkommando. 

1942-1944: this bit is a bit of influence from the xmcu, but something i’ve always incorporated into my canon regardless; max’s mutant abilities laid nearly dormant due to physical illness contracted from exertion and malnourishment, however, in moments of grief and anger, they were still strong enough to rear up. more than once, he’d injured officers, and killed one on accident out of fear. instead of being executed, josef mengele and doctor sinister took interest in him and conducted various physical experiments. when they could not produce the same effects, he was sent back to the work force. 

late 1944: max participates in the sonderkommando rebellion, escaping not only alongside other sonderkommandos, but magda, who had happened to also be interned in the camps. 14 and 15 respectively, they spend the rest of their teens together, and most of their 20s. 

1950: anya eisenhardt is born. max marries magda two months into her pregnancy. 

1957: the identity of “erik magnus lehnsherr” is created by georg odekirk, however i do not implement the idea that erik posed as rroma to “fit in” with the rroma community since i think its kinda.. bad. he’s accepted as his wife’s husband and a jewish man. max becomes erik to protect himself and his family.

1959: the eisenhardts--now lehnsherrs--move to vinnitsa, a then-soviet region, in order to pursue stable work, as erik became dissatisfied with only scraping by to provide for their daughter. he acquires a construction job in the summer, where he worked for another few months before the next incident. 

fall of 1959: erik consciously uses his abilities for the first time, hurling a crowbar at his boss over a pay dispute. when he returns to the inn where he and his family had been staying, he finds it aflame, and anya trapped inside. when he makes an attempt to free her, he is held down by the security his boss had employed, evoked over their dispute, and is forced to watch anya burn to death. finally, in an explosion of 29 years of grief and anger, catalyzed by the loss of his child, erik’s abilities fully emerge. not only does he kill everyone in the immediate vicinity he deems responsible for the event, including anyone who happened to become caught in the detritus and obstructions, he levels more than half of the city. in the ruins and ash, he finds anya’s scorched body and digs a grave with his hands to bury his daughter, where magda in the wake of his destruction approaches him horrified by his actions. he asks her to help him bury their daughter, and in her fear, she proclaims him a monster before fleeing, unknown to either of them, pregnant with the twins. erik is approached by another regiment of soldiers who attempt to shoot him in the head. he turns their guns on them instead, finishes burying and honoring his daughter, and spends some time searching for magda, whom he never finds. after a few days of unsuccessfully looking for his wife, erik packs what little he has left and travels from the leveled vinnitsa to haifa, israel. 

1960: erik volunteers at a hospital in haifa that predominantly focused on helping other survivors of the shoah, where he seeks some modicum of treatment himself, and meets none other than charles xavier. 

1961: after helping charles rescue gabi, erik realizes he and charles’ views are incompatible, and departs from haifa. he is eventually scouted by both the israeli secret service and a western outfit (likely the CIA) whilst hunting nazi war criminals. 

1962: erik hunts nazi war criminals and turns them over to israel for trial. i don’t really feel like going into detail about this one because its a little convoluted but basically erik is “allowed” to turn over certain nazis that are deemed acceptable to turn over to israel by his western control, but when he turns over a nazi that the west does not want him to turn over, agents show up to put an end to his “betrayals”, where he learns the truth of what they were doing and freaks out in a rage and kills them all, where he finally adopts the identity of “magneto”. he moves to brooklyn, new york, in the same year. 

1964: erik meets cassandra michaels, who designs his outfit. this is where this timeline gets fucked to hell because i have to work with 60 years of super old dumbass comics that characterize erik as a super hammy archetypical villain when thats not the character he develops into. 

this post is going to be SUPER LONG so this is a placeholder for me to edit and continue it later in detail. take these points as general points for the future before i write them out fully. 

late 60s is the first instance of asteroid m shit

the 1970s and 80s are the brotherhood heyday before the x-men really exist and they’re the only public figures saving and protecting mutants while also executing violent resistance to mutant oppression. 

early o5 era is around 1990-1999

dark phoenix saga around 2000 

genosha massacre mid 2000s. the “magneto was right” movement begins around this date as well, and che guevara-type merchandise starts sprouting up.

m day and civil war in 2008-ish, a few years following the genoshan massacre. 

utopia around 2011. 

avx around 2014. 

[scotianostra]

On May 27th 1661, Presbyterian lord Archibald Campbell, the first Marquess of Argyll, lost his head at Edinburgh.

You have no doubt read much of James Graham, Marquess of Montrose on here, well Argyll was his arch enemy, once a privy councillor to King Charles I, "Red Argyll" had been in the 1640s a great champion of Scottish national liberty and a leader of the Presbyterians in the many sided war that tore apart the both Scotland and England.

Scotland’s Presbyterians who opposed favoured a bottom up structure in church affairs as opposed to the crown-controlled selection of bishops that’s known as Episcopacy— made an initial alliance with English Parliamentarians Charles I. And in Scotland’s civil war in the mid-1640s, Argyll’s Presbyterians defeated Monstrose's royalists, which led to Graham's execution,I posted about his last week.

Argyll was another who played both sides of the divide,always with an eye to backing the winning horse, after supporting the Covenanter-Parliamentary cause throughout much of the 1640s, after the execution of Charles lst, Archibald Campbell swung his support behind his heir and he invited the young man to Scotland. Argyll hoped that he would sign the Covenant to gain the Scottish throne. At the coronation at Scone, ( I touched upon this yesterday in my post on Dunnottar,) Argyll was the man who placed the crown on Charles’ head. No doubt he anticipated rewards for himself and the Campbell family, and there were even rumours that the king would marry Argyll’s own daughter.

Charles II planned to invade England and Argyll retreated to Inveraray, but again changing sides to join Cromwell. Charles would never forgive him, and, to make things worse, Argyll’s son Lorne became a committed Royalist. At Inveraray, Argyll tried to remove himself from the conflict and lived quietly but he was in deep financial trouble because of the expenses of his military efforts and was imprisoned for debt for some time.

When Charles II was restored to the English throne in 1660 despite being advised against it, Argyll travelled to London to seek reconciliation with the king. Charles was quick to have him arrested and sent to the Tower before he was transported to Edinburgh for trial as a traitor. There were various charges of treason against Argyll, He was acquitted of complicity in the death of Charles I, again being in the right place at the right time when Leslie handed him over to the Roundheads, however most of the charges were satisfactorily answered and new evidence that he had collaborated with Cromwell led to the sentence of forfeiture of his titles and lands, and execution. His enemies wanted him dead as soon as possible, and he was executed by the “Maiden” at Edinburgh Tollbooth. Campbell's head was fixed to the same spike which had borne the head of his old enemy the Marquess of Montrose 11 years before.

Archibald Campbell faced death calmly and with courage, impressing everyone. The Covenanters declared him a martyr and his final speech, despite efforts to suppress it, was printed and widely circulated. Part of it inscribed on his memorial in St Gile's " I had the honour to set the crown on the King's head, and now he hastens me to a better crown than his own. " which was erected in 1895.

His body was eventually taken to Kilmun for burial, and some time later his son, the 9th Earl of Argyll, claimed his head to take it there as well. When restoration work to the mausoleum took place in the 1890s, in a velvet covered coffin, a skull was found which showed evidence that it may have belonged to the first and only Marquess of Argyll

You need to read 'Montrose' by John Buchan to realise the conniving, horrible man the Archibald was. Argyll didn't slaughter the prisoners at Philiphaugh, Leslie did. Just as he Slaughtered the Lamonts and Montrose' Irish followers at Newark castle. Argyll was a manipulator and dissembler. Always able to leave the scene and never able to overcome his envy of a bright young man, chivalrous and clever Montrose, he eventually paid the price for his double dealing.

[beeblackburn]

The Anti-TBR Tag

I was tagged by @books-and-doodles! Thank you! And poor you, for I am a long-winded bastard.

1. A popular book EVERYONE loves that you have no interest in reading?

On general principle, I feel like the really popular stuff (Twilight, Throne of Glass, Divergent, The Mortal Instruments) ends up being stuff I’m inherently not going to be attracted to and some of them have their own hatedoms going on, so going after them in detail would be punching down (though I don’t particular like any of the above). So I’m going to try to go off the beaten path with these seven:

A Darker Shade of Magic by V.E. Schwab = nothing against her personally, though I heard her The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue was baaaaad, but apparently, she’s similar to Sanderson in the magic system being better than the characterization and I heard her writing’s got a white faux-female empowerment sort of thing going that I’m growing increasingly... discontent of by itself. I might try it out later, but I also got hundreds of books to drill through first and I’m in no rush.

Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo = I’ve been increasingly getting the sense that Six of Crows was a flash in the pan, Bardugo’s style more defined by fun than genuine substance. And given a rather scathing review that points out unearned shifts in characterization, lackluster supporting cast, and two really uncomfortable exploitative sexual assault fantasy scenes (one of which was underaged!), I’m gonna say no.

A Deadly Education by Naomi Novik = I generally like Novik! She’s a very solid writer to me and I’ve bought most of her books, so this is purely me not taking to the Wizarding School genre. Sorry, Novik, "a twisted, super dark, super modern, female-led Harry Potter" isn’t the selling point it once was, and even then, I probably wouldn’t have taken to it. Especially when I’ve already got The Gray House by Mariam Petrosyan to read.

The Alloy of Law by Brandon Sanderson = I’ve got mixed feelings on Mistborn looking back: it’s hardly the worst of his oeuvre (Elantris is that and was admittedly his first book) and The Final Empire took a few narrative risks that I admire, I also found the resulting books a tad juvenile and I don’t take to steampunk, genre-wise. I’m not even that much of a Sanderson fan, so I’d rather just read the summary for all I care.

Storm Front by Jim Butcher = given what I’ve been told about The Dresden Files’ lessening of noir roots past the first few books, how it later became more flashy-and-bang magical, and how it’s pretty sexist early on (and from what I’ve been told, doubled down on it later on and having worse treatments of its female characters), I’m in no particular rush to read them. The urban fantasy genre on them only turns me off more.

The Doors of Stone by Patrick Rothfuss = hahaha, I’m sorry, I did read The Name of the Wind, and read select parts of The Wise Man’s Fear, but everyone, instead of waiting and devoting your time for this book to come, I would suggest reading Fitz, Who Is Actually Good and Can Wring More than Disgust and an Eye-Roll out of You in Robin Hobb’s Realm of the Elderlings, given she is far better at characterization than Rothfuss.

Anything by Paul Krueger, Sam Sykes, and Myke Cole = fuck all three of these men and the idea that I’ll pay for their stuff. While I can’t demand any of you not buy from them and I’ll hardly claim to be a saint in terms of ethics, purchase-wise, I would beseech you all please don’t buy from these three authors who have a history of inappropriateness.

2. A classic book (or author) you don’t have an interest in reading?

Charles Dickens = look, I know his word count is padded because of serial installments back then, but I’m sorry, I wasn’t that impressed by the child-sanitized versions of Great Expectations and Oliver Twist. They were easily some of the most boring of out of the child-sanitized classics I read. It was the pictures that kept me going and barely at that. No thanks.

Emily Brontë =  look, if I wanted shitty people being shitty to each other, I’d much rather read Joe Abercrombie because at least I’ll get some intentional dark comedy out of dumb shitheads being terrible to each other (Best Served Cold comes to mind). And I know we’re not meant to like these self-destructive people, but I’d rather not hate everyone that much.

Alexander Dumas = Three Musketeers really didn’t age well, just from the TV Tropes page and I’m not really looking forward to an adventure that goes out of its way to valorize its protagonists being adventurous assholes who dueled, drank, and womanized harder than anyone else and we should commend that because they were men. Ugh.

3. An author you have read a couple of books from & have decided their books are not for you?

Leigh Bardugo = like I said, I feel like Six of Crows (and Crooked Kingdom, to a lesser extent) was a flash in the pan and she’s been increasingly running on fumes ever since then. Good and fun with a decent eye for characterization, but hardly revolutionary, considering how I think Crooked Kingdom isn’t quite as good as Six of Crows, and the less said about Shadow and Bone, the better.

Neil Gaiman = I’ve read some of his stuff (and I didn’t quite see the hype over his writing, but liked it decently enough) but having heard that, in his Sandman run, he wrote in a transwoman solely to get killed for an emotional ending and how he defended that choice for awhile left a battery acid taste for me to read more. He’s a formative part of people’s childhoods, so I don’t blame anyone for being fans, he’s just not for me.

Steven Erikson = really nothing against the dude, I’m sure he's probably a decent guy, but I didn’t take to Gardens of the Moon at all and skimming Deadhouse Gates and Memories of Ice (which were admittedly better) made me realize its prose was something I would need a hard and sharp shovel to crack through, and the darting around of many, many POVs made me feel not invested in anyone.

4. A genre you have no interest in OR a genre you tried to get into & couldn’t?

I’ll answer both because I have the time:

I’m not interested in romance, mostly because it’s an entire genre built around the build-up. It’s usually the story about the beginning of a relationship, not the relationship itself. I’d genuinely like to read about the story of a romance that doesn’t stop shortly after the hook-up or before the honeymoon period ends. The City Watch parts of Discworld by Terry Pratchett, The Memoirs of Lady Trent by Marie Brennan and The Sharing Knife by Lois McMaster Bujold all have romantic elements that are relatively undrenched in melodrama or frills, but none of them are pure romances, which is a huge problem. I can take romantic subplots in fantasy, but I can’t take the genre as-is.

Urban fantasy is a genre I’m not against having my mind changed on liking, but right now, I generally find it insipid, a shortcut to good world-building, short on great characterization, and an excuse to lampshade and pretense to being above fantastical clichés in a tongue-in-cheek attitude while still committing to them. I do genuinely like Rivers of London by Ben Aaronvitch, but that’s really the concession I can give the entirety of the genre. I took a crack at Rick Riordan and Cassandra Clare’s stuff, but it didn’t feel like my sort of thing. Again, would like to be convinced, but I’d much rather read a domestic or slice-of-life fantasy set in a more overtly fantasy world than the urban one. 

Also, sci-fi, but I’m trying again with the Wormwood trilogy by Tade Thompson, An Unkindness of Ghosts by Rivers Solomon, and either the Imperial Radch trilogy by Ann Leckie, or the Teixcalaan trilogy by Arkady Martine. I snoozed through Azimov’s Foundation and generally bored myself of hard sci-fi books, so I’m hoping contemporary sci-fi changes my mind on the entire genre.

5. A book you have bought but will never read?

A book I personally bought? Honestly, Traitor’s Blade by Sebastien de Castell. No particular reason, I just bought it at a closing-down sale at a branch of my bookstore on the cheap because the cover looked nice and didn’t really take to its blurb. I heard good things though, so if anyone else wants to read it...

I tag @vera-dauriac, @xserpx, @autoapocrypha, @kateofthecanals, @turtle-paced, @insecticidalfeminism, @secretlyatargaryen, @helix-eagle-hourglass-nebula, @xillionart, @jovolovo and whoever else that is following me and wishes to do this tag (I’d like to read your posts, so please tag me! :D)

[greatworldwar2]

• Len Waters (Australian RAAF Pilot)  

Leonard Victor (Len) Waters was the first Aboriginal Australian military aviator, and the only one to serve as a fighter pilot in the Royal Australian Air Force (RAAF) during World War II.

The fourth of 11 children to Donald and Grace Waters, Len Waters was born at Euraba Mission, near Boomi in northern New South Wales on June 20th, 1924. He grew up at Nindigully, near St George, Queensland, and was educated to the seventh grade at Nindigilly State School. Hearing tales of pioneering aviators Charles Kingsford Smith, Amy Johnson, and Charles Lindbergh, and reading stories of Flash Gordon, and Buck Rogers, he had, as he put it, his "head in the clouds" from an early age. Waters left school when he was 14 to support his family, working alongside his father as a ring barker.

Although the military had officially barred or restricted the recruitment of Aborigines in earlier periods, these impediments were significantly relaxed after Japan entered World War II, and Australia came under direct attack for the first time. Waters volunteered for service in the RAAF on August 24th, 1942, at Brisbane, and was accepted. He began training as an aircraft mechanic, but later volunteered for flying service, and commenced initial training at Somers, Victoria, in December 1943. The aircrew interviewer thought he looked "a bit rough" but "should make a fighter". Waters believed his lack of education would be a disadvantage, and studied nights to make up for it. Keen to be a pilot, he was concerned that he would be allocated to duty as a wireless operator because he showed an aptitude for Morse transmission early on. He was also asked to imagine himself as the tail gunner in a Lancaster or Halifax heavy bomber, to which he replied, "I had a very disappointed look on my face, sir!" So convinced was he that he would not achieve his dream of becoming an aviator, Waters made three separate bets against himself being selected, and had to pay out £15 when he was nevertheless chosen.

Waters undertook his basic flight instruction at No. 1 Elementary Flying Training School in Narrandera, New South Wales, where he flew De Havilland Tiger Moths. He completed his training on CAC Wirraways and received his wings as a sergeant pilot at No. 5 Service Flying Training School in Uranquinty. Posted to No. 2 Operational Training Unit at Mildura, Victoria, he converted to P-40 Kittyhawk fighters. Once, while he was on leave, Waters was reportedly gaoled in Moree, New South Wales, for not carrying an identity card, which was one of the racially discriminatory institutions affecting Aborigines at the time. On November 14th, 1944, he was posted to No. 78 Squadron, a fighter unit based on the island of Noemfoor, off Dutch New Guinea. When he arrived, he was allocated a P-40 Kittyhawk. By chance, a previous pilot had nicknamed the plane "Black Magic" and painted those words on its nose. Waters found the name of his plane an amusing coincidence and chose to retain it.

By this stage of the war, Japanese aircraft were almost non-existent in the South West Pacific theatre; No. 78 Squadron's main role was ground attack, bombing and strafing enemy positions. Waters flew 95 sorties from Noemfoor, and later from the air bases at Morotai and Tarakan, in Borneo. During one mission, his aircraft was struck by a 37 mm cannon shell that embedded itself behind him in the cockpit without detonating. He flew for another two hours, with the possibility of the shell exploding at any time, a situation he likened to having a loaded gun against his head. "I'll tell you what", he said after returning to base, "that was the best landing I ever made". On January 1st, 1945, he was promoted to flight sergeant. By the end of the war, Waters was commanding operations which included commissioned officers. A colleague described him as a "gaunt, genial figure, humble despite his daring feats". One of Len Waters' brothers, Donald Edward Waters, had served as an infantryman with the Australian Army during the war. With the end of the Pacific War in September 1945, Len considered volunteering for the Australian component of the British Commonwealth Occupation Force in Japan, if his brother did also. Donald Waters declined at the time, so Len returned to Australia and left the air force with the rank of warrant officer on January 18th, 1946.

After returning to Australia, Waters attempted to start a regional airline serving South West Queensland. However, he was not able to secure finance or bureaucratic agreement. He reportedly wrote four letters seeking government approval, but never received a reply. He never flew a plane again. While racism in the military during World War II was considered to be minimal, Waters and other Aborigines who had served their country found that the skills they had acquired were not valued in peacetime. He wrote later that, having put off his uniform, he simply "returned to being a blackfellow". Four weeks after his discharge from the Air Force, Waters married Gladys Saunders, with whom he raised six children. He worked as an automotive mechanic, but was forced to cease by union rules, which required him to serve an apprenticeship. Waters was then briefly employed by a local council in Queensland as a road worker, before turning to sheep shearing, which took him away from his family to properties stretching from North Queensland to Victoria. Waters applied for housing commission accommodation and was allocated a house at Inala, Brisbane, in August 1956. He eventually bought the property and lived there for 33 years. He died on August 24th, 1993 at the age of 69 in Cunnamulla, and was buried in St George Cemetery.

In 1995, Waters was commemorated in several ways: Australia Post depicted his portrait on a stamp and that of his P-40 Kittyhawk fighter "Black Magic" on an aérogramme, as part of its Australia Remembers series; a brand of port was named after his personal Kittyhawk; Len Waters Place, a park in Inala, was opened; Moree Plains Shire Council dedicated Leonard Waters Park in Boggabilla, New South Wales; and Len Waters Street in Ngunnawal, Australian Capital Territory, was named after him. In 2003, Balonne Shire Council erected a monument to Waters and another local RAAF identity, Squadron Leader John Jackson, in St George. In 2011, the Sutherland Shire Council recognised Len Waters' memory and achievements by dedicating Len Waters Park, with a memorial plinth and plaque, at Timbrey Circuit, Barden Ridge, New South Wales.