#charlies a tad bit violent

[glsneeg-enthusiast]

i love sneegsnag generation loss (im shoving a fucking crowbar through his skull)

[jazjelspen]

my angel baby (part 5)

(angel w/ angel daughter reader)

(caution!!!!!: mild descriptions of violence)

(notes: alastor joins charlie and vaggie in heaven to convince them about the hotel. angel reader resembles a fawn.)

(tags: @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @just-here-reading @avitute @iam-d3ad-ins1de @des-deswain5621 @xephieeee @glowymxxn @potaturkey17 @insomniacfigure @pooplyface1423 @mo-0-o @thekanrojimitsuri2 @nevermorekisses @wildfire153 )

My lovely editor<333: @kruncher

You were now in Rosie’s Emporium.

In Cannibal Town.

God.

In absolute shambles you were.. if it were in any other place it would be embarrassing seeing your state but considering the drastic circumstances and absolute 180 in the changes of temperatures, colors, smells, energy and even uncovered emotions that you haven't felt since you were a human finally coming out of the shadows and resurfacing, it all simply felt too much and was overwhelming your psyche.

Yet despite this— you knew you had to tough this out.

But here you were, gentle hands trembling and holding a cup of.. tea.

At least you really hoped it was tea.

“Now sweetie what in the unholy world are you doing down here? Hm?

Now now don’t keep me in suspense, if it helps any I’m not going to let anyone else’s filthy hands get on your pure little self!

Oh and me included, minus the filthy hands, mine are quite taken care of.”

This lady only made you cower a bit more simply by talking. Her sharp teeth and this confident air around her only intimidated you more.

If that’s the case.. how’d you even get in this building? Surely you had enough time to run from her in the middle of it..

Well, it's simply because she kept you from getting eaten by yet an oncoming crowd that saw the interaction with you and this apparent 'Susan' to which they seemed to have taken the old lady’s comment a bit.. too much to heart.

Their claws and baring mouths full of sharp bone, tongues salivating in wanting to try a taste of your fresh golden blood that gave off a sweet scent to them from afar.

She managed to scurry them all off with a few demands and a set of sharp words of her own, keeping you safe from becoming cannibal food for the day and honestly you'd rather be on this lady's good side if she had that kind of power to drive away the cannibals the way she did.

Your wing was even cleaned and bandaged by her despite your constant flapping in distrust and fear when she came near, feathers sprawling everywhere as if several pillows were ripped open in a kind of violent pillow fight. You were seated at a table with two chairs facing each other on each side, a bit farther back in the emporium.

“…Promise you won’t eat me, miss..”

The lady smiled fondly, her expression looking like she’s smiling towards a young child scared of the big wide world. She seemed to be genuine and true with her actions but you just really wanted to get to the hotel as soon as you could..

“Of course little thing, I promise I won’t.

Oh and where are my manners! The name's Rosie, sweetheart, I own the Cannibal Town and I lead the Cannibal Colony. Absolutely pleased to meet you."

You looked up at her with eyes full of fear and a hesitance to trust her, to give her any information at all about your circumstances.

But you weren’t raised to lie.. maybe twisting the truth wouldn’t hurt much? Keeping a few things under the rug?..

“Nice to meet you too miss Rosie..you may call me-- uh- ______.

Look I’m.. Im just looking to get back home. I heard Charlie Morningstar can help since she was in heaven awhile ago and she's the Princess of Hell, I must speak with her soon..”

The woman’s face brightened up like the sun with her sharp-toothed smile widening in remembrance. Spooking you out a tad..

“Charlie Morningstar! A real sweet thing that girl, adorable little blonde. Just a few months ago she came about and managed to convince my town of misfits to help her in preparing to defend the hotel against the angels! My goodness did she sweep them off their feet!

But yes, I know exactly where her hotel is! I can take you there as well, not a long stroll from here I'm sure. Oh but.. "

She paused with the back of her hand gently grazing your spread injured wing, it recoiling back at her touch.

"Wouldn't be surprised if any other wild sinner would want to hunt you down for sport, so maybe a nice stroll would be out of the question."

Her pale hand then moved to hold the end of her chin, the other resting on her hip as the gears in her heard started moving to find a safer passage to the hotel for you to get there.. her piqued interest in you has her wanting to see you advance a bit to see what potential you could have in this entire quarry between the both worlds at war.

"Aha! Perhaps we could have you hide inside one of those delivery carriages the townspeople have been taking in and out here to bring materials and food to the hotel. That way you avoid being seen by any potential eyes that could bring bad luck to you."

She walked up towards the large window illuminating the inside of the emporium as well as the two of you with light from Hell's pink and red hues that brighten the entirety of the realm. Her eyes now searching for a particular large object and... voila! She found it right across the town square and standing right in front of a local shop.

"Oh isn't this just perfect! There is one right there, the timing couldn't be more convenient."

You inhaled a quick breath and exhaled it as fast as it came, somehow still incredibly nervous being in a small space with this woman. Oh geez..

But you couldn't exactly complain since you did contribute in having yourself in this situation.

"So.. could we perhaps go.. now? I just.. want to head home as soon and safe as possible ma'am.."

She then suddenly turned to look at you, dress twirling and the feathers on her hat swaying in a way that indicates their movements could barley keep up with hers.

"Oh but of course! Considering half of the town's population is working on the hotel I must visit and check up on them as much as I can. I also must visit a dear ol' friend of mine, real gas that man is.

Well, then let's hop to it now shall we? We better hurry up while our tool of transportation is still here."

Your ears peaked up in slight delight at the fact that you're actually going to be heading over to the hotel now! So soon as well! This saves you so much more time, effort, and blood in trying to find the place you just knew you had to thank the woman in dark fuchsia and gray for taking you all this way. A little voice couldn't help but nag at you at how too convenient this all is.

Too bad you didn't think too much into that.

"Y..Yes! Yes ma'am!" You got up from your seat and set down your cup saucer on the table and scrambled to catch up to her and her pace with your heart pumping in your chest.

Both of you strolled across the Cannibal Plaza towards and up to the local shop with two large delivery carriages that seemed to lean on to a more older style, with them seemingly from the 1900s and were designed as if they were to hold containers like dairy and such and even people, it includeda large window on the driver's seat where they could peak in by turning their backs and looking down.. oh and it'd be a crime to not mention the horses! Although they seemed more undead and violently volatile like their cannibal owners they still were a nice touch.

Rosie and you approached them, Rosie with more confidence and you.. the opposite. "Walter, George," she spoke, an air of casualness persists "Good to see your faces alive and well! Hope you two got a minute to speak to two esteemed gals?"

The men, named Walter and George, looked up at the two of you with interest.

"Well if it isn't our Rosie! Good to see you as well madame, we sure hope you're enjoying this fine day with glee!" the man, seemingly the one called Walter spoke.

Rosie chuckled, "Oh I sure am, I even found myself a new little friend here! Which leads me in having to ask the both of you for a favor that is of most importance."

The other cannibal that goes by George focused his eyes on her and her words, "Why, anything for our beloved Rosie! What can we do for you ma'am?"

You hid slightly behind Rosie, feeling a strange comfort in just her status and power over rest of her people that made you feel at least a bit more safe from them. You would've continued listening to her conversation with the two men if the distant yet also near sound of explosions echoed across all of Hell which made you jump a little and stifle a gasp ever so slightly.

No one exactly noticed this or acknowledged the sounds too much which got you thinking if this is truly just an everyday thing.. of course it is it's hell but-- geez.. how can anyone live like this! Explosions, blood, guts, corpses, drugs, diseases, infections running rampant and indulged in the way pigs would at old farm food.

Just the thought of that damn severed hand being eaten by that little kid that you stumbled upon earlier just made you sick.. ugh.

Is this what Alastor indulges in as well?.. in his own sick way? Is he truly comfortable in a place like this?..

He must be, if he's murdered as many as he did when he was alive, you didn't dare think how many he's hurt and murdered down here as well.

He truly did belong here, in hell. He was a sadist and a psycho through and through.

And that's what disgusted you the most.

"You hear that dear! One of them is half near empty! Let's head on at once!”

Rosie finally snapped you out of your thoughts, you then just nodded as if you were present in the moment this entire time.

Rosie put a hand behind your back to guide you to the back of one of the delivery carriages and as one man held the doors open for the two of you, you both went in and sat down on the neat little benches on the inside and you couldn't help but to acknowledge the several boxes of nails and other unmentionables that you assumed was meant for the hotel and the people working on it.

Eventually after the doors closed you managed to get light by the large window that brightened up the darkness in your new much smaller environment.

“You know ______ darling, you remind me of someone I know.”

Rosie’s sudden voices spooked you quite a bit, it was a bit out of nowhere as it interrupted the awkward silence between the two of you.

“I.. do?”

She nods as her hands rested on the handle of her closed umbrella, sitting in a most elegant way.

Thank goodness she was versatile, considering the circumstances.

“You remind me of a certain friend I’m going to see when we reach the hotel, you see he’s a very powerful fellow. Charming and helpful but.. what interests me more is how alike you both look..”

It’s starting to click slightly once she said ‘he’.. god you just hoped she wasn’t referring to Alastor -- even though you knew how likely it is that she was.

"Oh? Really?.. " acting oblivious I see, but before you could properly respond to her the sound of a whip could be heard with the loud neighs of a horse following right after, making the carriage start moving.

The ride wasn't too bad, a bit traumatizing sure and you really got a good experience of hell.. more or so decent.

In the middle of your ride you seemed to have passed by a rival gang having a shootout considering the two flying bullets that punctured your vehicle which most definitely tensed you up, yet you tried to relax seeing Rosie's opposite reaction.

Then you heard many yowls and screams of ache and pain, all with their own sounds of bodies falling or the sound of wet and squishiness following the disgusting act of puncturing with some sort of weapon you couldn't even imagine can be heard despite passing by the sounds quickly.

The live murders made you feel queasy in ways that made you almost want to throw up but knew you had to keep your head up high.

God, knowing you can't see anything but still hear everything is absolute torture for your wild imagination.

"Miss Rosie, does this--" a loud boom from afar interrupted you, making you almost shrivel up "--does this.. amount of chaos truly...happen everyday?.. I know it’s.. hell but-- isn't there at least one day where this isn't happening?.."

"Oh it never stops darling. It's hell and it will keep going this way until the end of time. I do apologize though.. seems as if your pure little head isn't used to this kind of environment." Duh. "Oh but then that means you'll surely get along with the princess, if anything she seems to be more fit to be an angel."

You simply huffed as your hands trembled on your lap.

This place was downright unpredictable, and you truly hope you would be able to leave this place right after the war.

You miss home already.

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

Finally arriving at the Hazbin Hotel was a real treat.

Not really actually-- pfft.

At least not when you had to be around even more cannibals..

Now you knew why the town seemed a little.. empty. The rest were all here.

Charming of them to be helping out but thanks to 'Susan' you didn't want to interact with any of them.

Walking out of your carriage you felt your heart up in your throat and slowly start to beat at a violent pace. Your anxiety was rising.

Rosie lead you to the front of the hotel doors, seemingly dusting herself off fixing her hair and hat before her hand turned into a fit to knock at the door.

You did the same thing she did, except in a more nervous and trembly way. Alastor was in here.. you were sure of it. You could feel it in your bones and your veins wanting to pop blood from out your ears and nose was seemingly close to happening with how hard the beating of your pulse got once Rosie finally did what you were dreading slightly.

knock, knock.. knock.

'okay _____ stay calm. you knew this was going to be bad, but you're here now.. just breathe, breathe...' you followed your own advice and took an inhale but as you let your shaky exhale out the door was slowly opening.

your eyes were staring dead at the head of the door.

was it Charlie? Vaggie? Alastor?--

"Hello there, just came to deliver someone who was looking for the Hotel. Oh and I came to check up on my cannibals and on Alastor."

Rosie all but confirmed it.

She knew Alastor.

For some reason, your heart sank, not just because she knew Alastor very well apparently but because this feels like a sort of strange betrayal.

You really wished she would've told you.. but if she did you would've freaked out even more-- and maybe she could tell?.. wait-- how would she even know your connection to him anyway??.. looking like a fawn couldn't just straight up tell her..

Yet when you finally looked up at the now open door it was actually none of those three that you knew of.

It was a.. cat? A grumpy lookin' one.

He looked at you and up at Rosie, her arm proceeding to go behind your back to push you gently up closer to the door as if to tell the cat to let you in. His eyes widened at the look at you and your physical attributes.. your wings and halo catching his eye but your fawn like appearance only enhancing the tension in his face a lot more.

He eventually let out a husky sigh with the expression on his face relaxing, his voice being very low and his years were audible in his vocal chords he then turned behind him to loudly announce one single thing from afar:

"You've got company."

He turned back at the two of you and opened the door for you to go through, Rosie guiding you in first.

"He's inside talking to the princess, just walk ahead, take a right and you'll see him." He spoke straight forwardly and serious, it made you feel a little unwelcome. Yet as you walked in you couldn't help but feel those eyes of his stick to you like glue.. you couldn't really blame him-- you were sure they don't see an angel everyday the way you are with hell's environments.

The clicking of Rosie's shoes and the gentle pitter patter of your own gave you goosebumps up your arms, and the more you walked and the closer you heard certain voices the more your spine crawled.

One step.

Two steps.

Three steps.

Four steps...

You could barley hear anything but the thumping of your own heart.

The small area of the hotel seemed to have been a sort of living room, sets of chairs and sofas surrounding a television box that seemed to be from one of the more later years after your time.

A calm Alastor and a stressed out Charlie were seated on the two different sofa while facing each other with papers and maps scattered around the table in the middle. Rosie lead you further to have you be in the view of the both of them.. you could've sworn her smile stretched as she did so

"Well if it isn't our beloved Rosie! What a warming surprise!--" Alastor's voice cheered until the end, where a sharp radio static interrupted his sentence and irritated those ears of yours.

"Rosie!" Charlie stood up from her seat in a polite yet frazzled state "Thank you so much for visiting!.. and I-- oh.."

The silence was deafening. You waved awkwardly as you avoided eye contact with your father and faced Charlie herself, her eyes basically ready to budge out and her jaws hanging slightly.

"Just came to visit and bring a little gift! I found this little bird during my stroll around my cannibal town and she seems to need your assistance! Isn't that right ______ darling?"

Rosie finished her sentence by patting your shoulder gently before her hands finally rested on the handle of her umbrella once more. You fiddled with your hands as you shined an awkward smile.. you looked like a child about to give a powerpoint presentation to a class..

'oh dear.. "

—--------------------------------------------

It was yet another cold and dark night in the beautiful New Orleans, faint night music can be heard even in the dead of night from the nearby clubs. A fresh and gentle night,

Ah but.. Alastor wasn’t exactly getting his hours of much needed sleep, for he had been rudely awakened by the cries of a baby.

Yes, you were around ten months old at this time and Alastor was yet to get used to this. There wasn’t a day that passed by where he didn’t think of dropping you at an orphanage. But then again.. It wasn’t that hard to get you to stop crying so those heinous thoughts left very quickly. Except for this day, he was getting challenged by a ten month old you.

“Shh shh shh.. goodness _____ please just go to sleep..” he mumbled, definitely frustrated. Despite his pleas, you just kept on crying and crying while resting over his shoulder. He fed you, patted your back, rocked you to sleep.. nothing worked– unfortunately Alastor wasn’t thinking of one of the most obvious solutions to this situation since the poor guy was too tired to truly think properly.

He kept gently patting your back, shushing you and cooing softly in hopes to tire you out. Your small yet mighty cries continued to rage against his ear..

god he had no idea what to do.

That was when he held you, his hands under your arms as he had you held in front of his face. His glasses were sloppily slapped above his nose, eye bags under his eyes, and a small smile was threatening to turn into a huge frown.

“Little lady.. I don’t appreciate you keeping me up longer than usual tonight, what in the world could you want?” Alastor asked you despite knowing you couldnt understand let alone talk to him back. You simply looked at him with big innocent eyes filled with tears, your baby face stained with dry and wet tear stains and your mouth nibbling on your hand on the verge of crying all over again. Alastor couldn’t help but to look at you almost blankly, he just wanted to sleep.

Gahh but then your eyes started watering again, your little bottom lip curled up over your top one as it quivered and looked at him with these little pained eyes as if he just told you the worst thing ever.

“Oh don’t look at me like that..” he mumbled.. Dreading the feeling you gave him when you cried– it felt like your cries were hurting him, it pained him hearing you cry so hard.

He wasn’t exactly fond of feeling this.

Your loud crying resumed once again, Alastor let out a huge sigh.

“Oh fine- I apologize.. There, better now?” you cried harder, clearly.. no.

He groaned as he then rested you on his chest, your face over his shoulder once again. If your crying wasn’t going to stop he might as well listen to a song to calm his agitation. And so he did, he headed to the living room to then turn on the phonograph. With the device already having a disc in it he simply had to turn it on so it could play where it left off and the second it released the sound of bliss he let out a sigh of relief, that at least despite the crying he could at least go through this as calmly as possible.

The music wasn’t exactly loud, very faint in fact yet he could still hear it a little bit over your crying. He hummed to the tune of the song as he simply patted your back gently and waited for your cries to disintegrate.

This was one of his favorite songs as they were from a musician that is recently becoming incredibly famous in the music industry and Alastor was fascinated by their use of melody and sound.

Melodies that reminded him of the days of his mother when she was still gracing the earth, a real saint that woman was.

Sometimes he talks to her through a photo of her on the wall, asking her questions she’ll never answer, seeking advice and wisdom that he won’t ever be able to hear again.

If only her sickness didn’t overtake her as fast as it did, maybe she would know what to say to motivate him more in this moment of struggle.

He thought and thought and thought as if his head would burst if he didn't.. wondering how she would help him in raising you. What she would say, her suggestions, recommendations.. what would she do in a situation like this.

He knew he had to stay calm and stay in control, he had to keep smiling for that’s what his mother always did no matter what came her way.

She handled it with grace, poise, and with a smile.

It took him around an hour of overthinking about his mothers death, you, his future, his job, and his.. pff.. fascinations.. the lack of sleep seriously taking a toll on him as his want was slowly getting tired of patting you.

But most of all he was thinking about you. His future included yours.

How kind.. despite being so heartless.

Oh.. the song ended and all that was left was the soft static from the machine, blissful silence was all that was heard.

Wait..

Silence?

He looked over his shoulder to look at you, your little baby cheeks squished against him, your eyes closed and your breathing steady..

Finally! You're asleep.

Another sigh of relief released from his lips, continuing to loudly hum the same song that was playing earlier as he slowly walked out of the living room towards his room, now stopping at your crib.

He continued humming as one of his hands held the back of your head and the other held your back, gently placing you in the crib while humming the tune he kept you close while he set you down so you wouldn’t suddenly burst in crying again.

Once he gently managed to place you down with no fuss.. He was darn ready to sleep.

Oh but he took a moment to look at you, leaning against the railings of your ‘bed’ made specifically for you.

Your little baby fat and your squishy cheeks that made your little face even cuter– once again, he was never fond of kids let alone babies but hell if only you didn’t look at him the way you did on that rainy day he found you.. Giggling and smiling even when you didn’t have a single clue of what your situation was as a month old baby.

“You are definitely a handful.. If you kept crying I might have left you in an orphanage by now.” he whispered and joked to himself– no matter the cruel jokes he makes he’ll always find laughter in moments or scenarios of despair.

He’s too far gone now though, he’s bought all your necessities and his home basically screams of a baby’s presence, so even if he truly wanted to do that he knew it’s too late to turn back and you're stuck to him forever.. Well however long ‘forever’ is.

"Domestic life was never quite my style.. still isn't, but I can simply make a few exceptions."

“Well now.. sweetest of dreams, little dove.” he mumbled quietly before finally heading to his own bed himself.

Alastor finally settling in and finally getting comfortable and very slowly falling asleep himself.. glasses back on his nightstand and the noise around him becoming fainter and his mind seemed to finally start powering off for the night.

Finally.. time to sleep.. there's much work to do tomorrow.

Until he heard shuffling from the crib.

‘Oh god.’

(thank you so much for reading part 5 of my angel baby! the stakes are gonna get real high between the reader and Alastor! hope everything goes well for the two when one of them starts interacting!(alastor lmao) hope to see you all in part 6 if you are willing to stick around! Im really only planning to finish this series until the very end or until you guys stop wanting it but nonetheless I hope we reach the end of this story soon!!)

[superstarzolar]

FNAF Athazagora AU Missing Children References & Descriptions

(Note: i don’t understand the differences between nationality, ethnicity and race well!! so if the nationalities are incorrectly worded i’m sorry:o()

Name (Nicknames): Suzanne Park-Owens (Susie)

Age, DOB: 9, April 20th, 1976

Nationalities: Irish-American

Pronouns: She/Her

Date of Death: September 28th, 1985

Voice Claim: Baby Box (Gabby’s Dollhouse)

Personality Description: Susie is a sensitive, kind-hearted young girl who has an overwhelming soft spot for those she loves. This soft spot, however, allows her to be easily taken advantage of. It is hard for her to truly hate anybody, feeling sympathetic for most people.

Possesses: Chica Chicken, Funtime Foxy, Ennard/Molten Freddy

Name (Nicknames): Gabriel Stauffer (Gabe)

Age, DOB: 5, March 13th, 1980

Nationalities: African-American

Pronouns: He/Him

Date of Death: September 29th, 1985

Voice Claim: Dash (The Incredibles)

Personality Description: Gabe is a loving child with a heart of gold. He is described by his father as a “lion-child”, taking it upon himself to stand up for those around him (especially his friends) even if his pudgy, petite appearance isn’t intimidating in the slightest. Gabe is, however, very gullible and easily falls victim to lies and false promises if they involve his friends and/or family.

Possesses: Freddy Fazbear, Funtime Freddy, Ennard/Molten Freddy

Name (Nickname): Jeremy Roberto Doherty (Jerry)

Age, DOB: 14, December 10th, 1970

Nationalities: Ukrainian-American

Pronouns: He/They

Date of Death: September 29th, 1985

Voice Claim: Lloyd Garmadon (Ninjago)

Personality Description: Despite his eccentric clothing choices, Jeremy is a timid boy who prefers to stay in the background of things. They derive most, if not all, of his confidence from his friends, especially from their best friend (and would’ve-been younger brother) Gabriel. They make him feel strong, and he has a subconscious need to protect them.

Possesses: Bonnie Bunny, Funtime Freddy, Ennard/Molten Freddy

(Note: Jeremy would’ve been adopted by Gabriel’s family if they had survived. Sadly, both of them had died before that could happen).

Name (Nicknames): Francis Reynolds (Fritz)

Age, DOB: 9, July 29th, 1976

Nationalities: Canadian-American

Pronouns: He/Him

Date of Death: September 30th, 1985

Voice Claim: Lewis Robinson (Meet The Robinsons)

Personality Description: Fritz is, for the most part, an average boy. He enjoys drawing and making pictures of him and his friends together, especially so with his best friend, Andrew. Fritz is standoffish and a tad bit awkward, but is not socially adverse.

Possesses: Foxy the Pirate Fox, Funtime Foxy, Ennard/Molten Freddy

Name (Nicknames): Cassidy Coney (Cassie)

Age, DOB: 9, October 1st, 1976

Nationalities: Indian-American

Pronouns: They/Them

Date of Death: October 1st, 1985

Voice Claim: Vee Noceda (The Owl House)

Personality Description: Though selectively mute, Cassidy has no problem helping their friends when/if they need it. They are deeply empathetic and acts as a backbone to their friend group. Typically, Cassidy is a very passive, non-violent person; but, if somebody presents themselves as a threat to those they love, they will stop at nothing to raise hellfire on them.

Possesses: Golden Freddy/Fredbear, Funtime Freddy, Ennard/Molten Freddy

Name (Nicknames): Andrew Smith (Andie)

Age, DOB: 9, July 29th, 1976

Nationalities: Mexican-American

Pronouns: He/They

Date of Death: October 1st, 1985

Voice Claim: Ronno (Bambi)

Personality Description: Andrew is a soft-spoken and mild-mannered young boy. He prefers talking and grouping up with his friends, especially with his best friend Fritz. Andrew loves giving his friends gifts, which included paying for some of their things (such as food and tickets). Unfortunately, when faced with any form of danger, he instinctively shuts down and is of little use/help.

Possesses: Golden Freddy/Fredbear, Funtime Foxy, Ennard/Molten Freddy

elizabeth, sammy, charlie, and mikey will probably be next:o)

(edit: maybe if we all pretend that susie’s security bracelet is colored it will be)

[dancingwiththoughts]

Medwhump May Day 23: Resisting Treatment

“Ya’ look like shit.”

“What a keen and poetic analysis, Angel,” Alastor rasped.

“He ain’t wrong,” Husk chimed in from behind the bar,”You do look pretty fucked up.”

Alastor rolled rheumy eyes, before coughing into his sleeve. It was mid morning, and the three of them were sitting at the hotel bar.

“I’m just sayin’, toots, why’re you even up if you’re sick?” Angel sat down on the stool next to Alastor.

“I’m not sick,” he spat the world like it was poison,”It’s just a minor inconvenience.”

Husk and Angel didn’t look convinced.

“Fine, run yourself into the ground for all I care,” Husk grumbled, going back to cleaning the glasses.

“Thank you kindly,” Alastor grinned cheekily, before his breath hitched.

He folded forward, letting out a string of violent sneezes. Angel and Husk jumped back as antlers sprouted from his head, before retracting as the fit subsided. Alastor sniffed, sounding congested as he wiped his nose on his sleeve.

Husk and Angel exchanged looks which clearly meant the same thing: stubborn asshole.

“Good morning, everyone!” Charlie entered the room, her typical cheerful demeanor dripping from her voice.

Vaggie trailed behind her, gazing at Charlie fondly.

There was a chorus of returned greetings as the couple sat down at the bar. Husk passed them each a mug of their preferred drink.

“So, I heard about this new bonding activity the other day, and I think that it would be super fun to try,” Charlie began,”So we’ll need four identical chairs with backs, and then four people at a time will go. Everybody sits in a certain direction, and then they lean back on each other's legs. The other people who aren’t playing then remove the chairs and-”

Charlie was cut off as Alastor began to cough, the sound rough and filled with static. He attempted to muffle the sound, but it didn’t do much as all eyes turned to stare at him. He finished quickly, seemingly out of breath, but he kept up appearances anyways.

“Terribly sorry for the interruption dear,” He apologized.

“You don’t sound too good, Al,” Charlie’s eyebrows knit together,"Are you feeling okay?"

“I’m positively splendid, darling. Just a tad bit off is all.”

“You should take a break if you’re sick. You really don’t look too good.”

He really didn’t. His nose was raw and red, cheeks beginning to flush lightly. He looked tired and run down, and just not like himself.

“I’m fine.”

“Please, Alastor? I don’t want you to be overworking yourself if you aren’t feeling great.”

“Charlotte, I’m-”

“Bullshit; You sound like you gargled nails and look like you got trampled by an angel,” Vaggie said, crossing her arms,”I used to be a nurse, and I can tell when someone’s ill. I can diagnose the fact that you have a low grade fever from here.”

“I am not ill.”

“Oh really? Then why didn’t you notice that you were drinking decaf coffee?” Husk questioned.

Alastor froze at this, seeming not to have a rebuttal.

“Please, Al?” Charlie pleaded,”Just go lay down for a bit.”

Alastor opened his mouth to argue, but Charlie held up her hand.

“I’m not saying you’re sick, but I’m saying as princess of Hell, the owner of this establishment, and your friend that you are going to go to your room, and will not come out for at least,” Charlie paused, glancing at Vaggie,”At least two hours. Do I make myself clear?”

Alastor looked slightly intrigued at the show of power Charlie had put on, but he mostly looked… defeated.

“...Fine. Despite how ridiculous your assumptions are, I will retire for exactly two hours, but no more.”

He stood up from the bar, striding towards the stairs.

“Feel better!” Angel called after him snarkily.

The comment was responded to with Alastor’s coffee cup being hurled at the spider’s head, smashing against the wall.

[voidsuites]

this is no shade bc i luv ur bots buttt charlie is besties n wrote a song for her extremely violent zionist bsf!! so the theme of ur profile is just a tad bit off putting <3 but its not common knowledge so!

i get this, thank you for letting me know. i’m personally not that well-versed about charli beyond her music, so i wasn’t aware. i know charli has shared resources for palestine in the past, but that’s not an excuse to brush this off

might play around with my profile’s theme then. still going 2 release my bots but everything else we’ll see. thank you again for letting me know

[parisian-nicole]

Garvez Ficlet: It's A Date

“She’s right on time,” Tara spoke out while she munched on the gummi bears, she had just gotten from the vending machine she was currently leaning against. “I swear you can set your watch to her desperation,” She added and Penelope, who had just retrieved a granola bar from the machine turned to see whom Tara was talking about.

“Who?”

“Agent Melinda Gomez,” Tara replied as they both now stood non-covertly watching the beautiful Latina woman who looked to be in her late 20s and like she should be working as a supermodel instead of an agent for the FBI. Penelope found herself standing up a little straighter and sucking in her midsection a tad as she watched the other woman who appeared to be searching for someone.

“Is she new here? I’ve never seen her up here before and I make it my mission to get to know everyone on our floor.”

“She works in the Cyber division 3 floors up,” Tara stated. “And you haven’t seen her before because today is your first day back after your mini vacation last week and that’s when she met Luke in the elevators when we all left work to head to O’Reilly’s for drinks,” These words made Penelope frown up a bit and her mind clearly told her that she did not like this woman she didn’t even know. “She spoke something in Spanish to Luke which was hella rude to the rest of us, but she was clearly fishing. Luke replied but in English.”

“What did she say?”

“Well, according to what Prentiss told me later when I asked her, she had asked Luke if he knew any good Mexican restaurants. He told her no because he didn’t eat out often. Before she could flirt further the elevator hit the lobby and I have never seen Luke book so quickly to get out of there,” Tara chuckled at the memory of it. “But she��s been coming up here ever since, scoping and hoping to run into Luke. I gave him the heads up and he’s been strategically watching out and avoiding her. You better look out too because she is definitely trying to make moves on Luke.”

“Why are you telling me?” She countered. “If Miss, ‘I was the head cheerleader and homecoming queen’,” She spat out mockingly as she sneered a little. “Wants to throw herself at Luke like a little trollop, more power to her. And if Luke wants to play Ken with FBI Barbie over there, well, it’s none of my business,” She finished as she almost violently tore the wrapping off of her granola bar while she scowled in the direction of Agent Gomez.

“Penelope Grace Garcia,” Tara pushed out as she locked disbelieving eyes onto her friend, who frowned up as she looked back not liking the use of her Government name in the workplace. “You have got to be joking right now.”

“What?” Penelope replied as she was truly baffled.

“You should care since ‘you’re’ dating Luke,” Tara clarified as she stared dumbfounded at Penelope, who frowned up in confusion at what was said.

“No, I’m not," She scoffed and frowned a little at the implication. "After the Tyler Green debacle, I have sworn off dating for a while,” Penelope argued.

“So, you haven’t gone out on any dates with anybody since Tyler Green, or hang out regularly with a guy?” Tara asked knowingly as she folded her arms across her chest as she waited for the answer.

“No,” Penelope continued to deny and then she thought about it some more. “I mean, when there are no cases that take you guys away, I will usually have lunch with Luke at that little Vegan café around the corner from here. And on Sundays Luke and I usually grab brunch at one of the places near the dog park and then we’ll take Roxy to the park to run around for a couple of hours. On Fridays, he and I will usually go catch the latest movie at the theater if something good is playing, or if there’s nothing good out, we’ll either hang out at his place or mine, where we’ll watch old Charlie Chaplin and Our Gang films. Then on Tuesdays, we alternate cooking dinner for each … Oh my God, I’m dating Luke!” She exclaimed as realization finally struck her and she snapped her wide alarmed eyes onto Tara who stood before her nodding her head and giving her a ‘No, Shit’ look. “When did that happen … how did it happen?”

“Well, I started noticing how much you two were hanging out about a week after we hung out at your place right after Bailey’s memorial,” Tara answered. “I don’t know about how it happened but I was waiting impatiently for you to finally tell me. I cannot believe you didn’t even realize you were dating Luke.”

“Wait, you make it sound like everyone knew it but me.”

“Yeah, we all do. I mean Prentiss wasn’t 100 percent sure until we went to Milwaukee on our last case.”

“What was significant about that case that made her think Luke and I were dating?” Penelope questioned as the confused look swept over her face once more.

“Geez, Penelope, you guys kissed,” Tara replied and her words made Penelope’s mouth drop in genuine shock as her mind tried to recollect the moment. “You walked us to the elevators like you usually do, told us to be safe, and then you and Luke had a short conversation about kissing Roxy for him. Then you both leaned into the other and gave a quick peck on the lips, and Luke got in the elevator and we left. You acted like it was a natural occurrence that you two had done before. So, have you?” Penelope simply nodded her head as she played back in her mind other times they had kissed, and Tara was correct in her assessment that it was like a natural occurrence.

“Yeah, whenever we hang out on our days off, we usually end things with a kiss goodbye or a kiss goodnight. But they're very chaste ‘platonic’ smoochies, nothing like you’d read in one of those trashy novels Emily loves so much.”

“Yeah, but do you go around giving those smoochies to other guys or are they Luke’s lips only smoochies?” Penelope contemplated the question a moment before she replied.

“Shit … I am totally dating him, aren’t I?” She asked and Tara smiled, nodded her head, and then popped another gummi bear into her mouth. Before she could pose another question to Tara, Luke appeared around the corner.

“You ready to head out, Chica?” He greeted them as he stopped in front of them.

“Uh, yeah,” Penelope replied as she gripped the strap of her purse a little tighter. “Goodnight, Tara.”

“Night you two, and Luke check your six,” Tara said and then moved past them to head back into the bullpen to pack up for the evening. Luke frowned up some as he turned to check what she was talking about and he inwardly groaned as his eyes landed on the person he had been purposely trying to avoid for nearly a week. Agent Gomez had already spotted him and she stood near the elevators pretending to be engrossed in a file she held. She was seemingly so engrossed that she didn’t join the two people who had just entered the open elevator. She was clearly waiting for him. Penelope rolled her eyes slightly at how obvious the woman was being.

“Hey, would you mind if we take the stairs? I wasn’t able to get in a run this morning with Roxy and it would be good cardio.”

“Good cardio for you maybe,” Penelope replied. “Have you noticed the shoes I am wearing?” She asked him and he had noticed them as soon as she had entered the bullpen that morning to give her usual greetings. And he had mentally noted how good she looked in them. “These are not ‘let’s take the stairs’ kind of shoes, Luke,” She stated and then began to walk to the elevators and Luke instantly fell in step behind her. She was quite curious to see if Tara was right about this Agent Gomez. When they had stopped at the elevators Penelope plastered on her biggest smile and looked at the younger woman. “Hi,” She greeted and Agent Gomez smiled back in kind and gave her a nod. The woman then shot a quick lecherous glance at Luke who stood looking straight ahead while they waited for the elevator doors to open. When the doors finally pinged open Penelope was the first to enter and Luke's gentlemanly nature made him wait until Agent Gomez had entered before he finally did. Luke maneuvered himself on Penelope’s left side, while Agent Gomez stood on Penelope’s right side. Once the doors had shut and they had pressed their destinations; the Lobby for Agent Gomez and the underground parking garage for Luke and Penelope, Agent Gomez spoke out.

“¿Tiene algún plan esta noche?”

“No, sólo una cena con él y nuestra chica, Roxy,” Penelope was the one who replied and she clearly stunned both Gomez and Luke with her excellent attempt at speaking Spanish, though she was not well versed but had really started to seriously try to learn it after she had heard Luke once, speaking on the phone to his mother. It was crystal clear that Agent Gomez was embarrassed and she said nothing more until the doors opened to the lobby, she then tossed out a goodnight before she rushed out of the elevator.

“Muy bein, Chica,” Luke congratulated truly impressed, especially with the way she rolled her Rs. She smiled coyly to his praises and they continued on for a few seconds in a comfortable silence before she spoke again.

“Luke, can I ask you something?” She began as she kept her gaze honed straight ahead, though she could see him turn to regard her in her peripheral vision.

“You know you can ask me anything,” He answered and scowled a little in concern as he looked over at her.

“Did you know we were dating?” She pushed out as calmly as she could and then held her breath awaiting his reply. Luke smiled at the question as he averted his eyes from her face and also looked straight ahead, and then casually draped his right arm over her shoulder before he answered.

“Yes,” He answered honestly and he was relieved that she had finally realized it too. He silently prayed that she wouldn’t freak out about it and start to push him away. He sincerely wanted their budding relationship to blossom into something more but had been willing to wait for as long as she needed him to. To allow herself to heal after what had happened between her and Tyler Green. After a moment’s pause, she nodded her head.

“You know what, I don’t really feel like cooking tonight,” Penelope stated and Luke could feel his heart clench in his chest from her backing out of their weekly ‘cook dinner together’ night. “So, why don’t we grab some take-out on the way to my place? And not having to spend so much time prepping and cooking frees us up to just hang out and find other things to occupy the time,” She said as she still kept herself from looking at him while still being able to watch him. And she couldn’t stop the small smile that played on her lips upon seeing a huge smile spread across his face.

“And what do you think we could do to occupy our time?” He asked as he cast her a very heated look just as the doors opened to the parking garage. Before stepping out she turned and looked at him head-on with a brazen smile on her lips and a playful glint in her eye.

“If we put our heads together, I am sure we can come up with something,” With that said she walked out of the elevator with a big broad smile on her face. Luke followed close behind with a smile on his face that matched hers.

***

THE END

***

Rough Translation:

- ¿Tiene algún plan esta noche?: Any plans tonight? - No, sólo una cena con él y nuestra chica, Roxy: No, just dinner with him and our girl, Roxy.

[newshirtonlines-blog]

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Gao also praised White Art Louis Tomlinson One Direction shirt . Cox's work and behavior, calling him "a wonderful actor, and a wonderful human being." "And Charlie is so wonderful. He’s so game to do whatever, and he’s such a wonderful actor, and a wonderful human being. What was so fun about bringing him and Daredevil into our world is that people have already seen a Daredevil who is very dramatic, little bit on the heavy side, very dark, brooding." Asked specifically about Daredevil's characterization in She-Hulk, Gao talked about the fun of expressing "a lighter side of that character." "And it was so fun to be able to do–and we do this with every character cameo from the MCU–is we take them from the environment that you know them from, which is a much more dramatic and action-oriented role, much more on the serious side, and we bring them into our world and they get to play in the tone of She-Hulk. And they got to explore and we get to see a lighter side of that character."White Art Louis Tomlinson One Direction shirt, hoodie, sweater, longsleeve and ladies t-shirt

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Classic Men's Beyond Gao's clear appreciation of Daredevil, her comments about the approach taken with the character are quite telling White Art Louis Tomlinson One Direction shirt . It seems that for his re-introduction to the MCU, Daredevil may come off more than a tad bit less serious. This fits with what fans have seen so far from She-Hulk, with an updated costume suggesting, at least literally, a more colorful take on the vigilante. However, this doesn't mean the character won't dip into his darker roots in future appearances. As Gao notes, She-Hulk lightens up all the elements it pulls in from the wider MCU, focusing more on the humor that can be extracted from them. As such, Daredevil's lean towards the lighter side of things may be more indicative of the show itself than the character going forward. Echo, the next project Daredevil appears in, will possibly offer the space to dip back into the darkness, with the series focusing on the titular character's violent past. Rumors have already suggested that not only will Daredevil be a significant part of the show, but also that he will be back in a red and black costume to boot. You Can See More Product: https://newshirtonline.com/product-category/trending/ Read the full article

[spoonietimelordy]

Yay Charlie, here we go. For the THATW song ask game, I feel like we haven't gotten to talk much about Battle Cries? So that one, and questions 1, 2, 6, and 8. :)

1. what was your first impression about this song? And as it changed?

I didn't really have any feelings about it, I loved it obviously like all of their songs but it wasn't one of the special ones. And yes it did change a lot but that will be for the next questions ^^

2. How does this song make you feel?

Overwhelmed to be honest.

(Edit: OK so this is what I wrote first and then I Googled some stuff and maybe I'm wrong, you'll see why)

I feel like Joey's voice is a tiny bit too load and cover Madeleine's voice so I have to focus really hard, even with the lyrics, to isolate her voice.

But also I'm kind of angry at Madeleine's character imao. I trully feel like she is the toxic and controlling one in this relationship which make me even more mad that I have to read the lyrics to understand her because she is the emotionally violent one so I feel like she should be the one we hear the most and that we should have to focus to hear Joey. But I guess that it could be voluntary since emotional abuse is often hidden from others, but since we're inside there home it would make more sense to hear her more to me.

I think that it's my biggest hot TAD take so far 😅.

Edit: wait wait wait! I just googled what beating your chest mean and wait O.O– it mean screaming your sadness and hunger at people but in an unsincere way. Was he lying all along to get people's sympathy? Was he trying to pass as the good guy here???? Or what? I'm doubtful suddenly, because it now feel like the lasts lines might be a twist but I'm not sure, or is he sincerely saying that he will not show a fake version of the story and will be honest? help!

6. What stories or characters are connected to this song in your mind?

Complete OCs, like most of their songs tbh.

8. Do you visualize any colors, images, or scenes while listening?

Yes!!! I imagine everything in such a detail way oh my god, I feel like I'm either their neighbours or their kid listening to them fighting, or I could even be the wallpaper. I'm just listening to every details of something that I shouldn't be listening too, they don't know that I know you know? But I can see them in their living room, fighting, screaming, putting their hands on their face and in their hair, pointing to the kitchen when talking about smashing the plates. I can see her trying to grabe onto him, to get him to stay.

All of this in a very specific aesthetic, it's the evening, the golden hour and the sun is making everything yellow with some ray of sunlight sliding through the curtains while the rest is a lot darker, representing their fight and fallen relationship.

[darthwheezely]

i walk the line - f.w. - 1

1950s american carnival! au

Summary: The Weasley Bros. Circus has always been a family affair...until they pick up a highly unusual girl with wicked talents...

Warnings: 1950s America and all the shit that comes with it, NSFW/SMUT MINORS NO INTERACTING :) , alcohol usage, cussing, tw violence (fights), carny folk, contortionist, language and desc of intense circus acts, clowns, sad boy George, GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF BULLYING IN THIS CHAPTER, angst

taglist or people that may like this! DM to be added or removed @cappsikle @lumosandnoxwriting @whizboingies @virgohufflepuff @officialwizardwheezes @amourtentiaa @softlyqoos @breadqueen95 @thehufflepuffwife @george-fabian-weasley @lupinsclassroom @haileymorelikestupid @sarcasticallywitty15 @band--psycho @gcdric @vogueweasley @harrysweasleys @slytherinsunrise @thisismynerdyself @loony-loopy-lupinn @writingsomewrongs @pineapplesandpinas @valwritesx @amxrtentias @theweasleyslut @oh-for-merlins-sake @alyssamalfoy @bisou-doux

“...welcome to our home!”

George listened as the crowd erupted before his father. He had always admired Arthur “Art” Weasley, for many a reason. The way he could walk in and command a room, the way he could silence an entire audience with a simple flick of his wrist of wave of his hand, the way his voice alone could stop his cries in the night, the way he would come up behind him when taking care of the animals was too much and say, “Georgie, go to sleep, son.” but most of all? The way his father noticed him.

Baltimore, Maryland. 1933.

George Weasley was on the run. Again. Charlie Dooley, a boy from his class, and his gang of (as Fred said) “chickenshit babies” had made it a habit of following George home from school and doing one of the following: a) chasing him on bikes, b) cornering him in the bathroom, or c) sprinting after him on foot.

Today, it had been on foot.

“C’mon monkey boy!” Charlie howled, the other boys closing in on him. George sprinted a quick right realizing he dropped his lunch box and thinking a violent but rapid mom’s gonna be so mad, oh no oh no-

George barreled down the street, his house in sight, tears stealing on his cheeks from the sheer speed and necessity to get home. His feet seemed to be operating without him knowing, his body throwing itself backwards and forwards with the blinding need to be home, to hug his dad and say he wasn’t going to school anymore, to ask his mom to stop packing bananas in his lunchbox even though it was his favorite snack because mom don’t you know they call me monkey boy-

“Thought you could really get away from us this time huh, Georgie boy?” Charlie had pinned him to the concrete, George’s heart screaming in his ears. He could barely register that his lip was bleeding, and that maybe if he focused on the sky, his eleven year old shrimp of a body wouldn’t feel-

Pow.

Isn’t that what superheroes say? Pow? Let’s think about superheroes, Georgie, Charlie doesn’t last long with punches anyway just keep lookin’ at the sky, he thought wildly before-

Pow.

Pow.

He vaguely felt his eyes roll back into his head, but he made a very clear rule to himself that he wouldn’t cry, Fred wouldn’t want him to cry, not that Fred was mean, Fred just hates seeing him cry-

Pow.

P-

And suddenly there was something off his body. He could hear punching noises but they were not aimed at George, but rather someone else. When he was able to open his eyes he saw his brother, Fred, landing blow after blow to Charlie Dooley, Charlie mewling under Fred.

“Touch my brother again, and I promise I won’t just break your nose next time, yeah?”

-

Art Weasley sat with his son George in the red chair in his caravan. It was George’s favorite chair, as he learned the word “red” from that chair and then equated “red” to his own hair.

Arthur had known his son would have it harder. It wasn’t his fault the boy was different, he loved him just the same for it if not slightly more so for the way he was a bit quieter, the way he listened and thought and thought and then wanted to make choices. The way he asked his mom if he could pack Fred’s lunches for school because only George knew Fred hated crunchy peanut butter sandwiches with white bread.

But more so for the way George wasn’t afraid to show love. To cry. To feel things Art sometimes couldn’t articulate.

George was curled into his father, tears staining his button up shirt and his body shuddering with every anxiety laden breath. Art put a hand on his son’s back and put his lips to his hair.

“George, you have to breathe for me or you’re gonna get sick.” He rubbed his son’s back soothingly.

“I’m sorry, dad, I promised I did what you said and tried to protect myself and when I couldn’t do anything else I just didn’t look at h-him I p-promise, dad p-please don’t be mad at me...” he took another shudder and released a cry into his father’s shoulder. Art was not a helpless man, but there was something that destroyed and cracked his very soul at the sight of his most vulnerable child, the most angelic of his seven children. The one that everyone protected. And at times like these, sometimes all a father can do is hold his child. So that’s what he did.

“I know, son...I know...”

-

“George?”

George jumped out of his thoughts, his palms sweaty from the inevitable stage fright that always accompanied him before a show. It was no matter how many times he grazed the trapeze with his sister Gin and his brother Ron, the nerves were always the same.

At least this time, no pows would be administered from anyone besides himself.

He heard his name again, the daze breaking as he looked at his oldest brother Bill.

“George. You’ll be fine. You always are, baby brother.” He said softly, placing his hands back on, Cora (short for Corazon) the lion. George gulped and nodded, and Fred patted his back, giving a hearty wink. George smiled a small smile, clapping Fred’s forearm.

“Ready, Fred?”

Fred grinned.

“Ready, George.”

-

George belonged to the trapeze. The way his body seemed to elongate with grace and dexterity when he grabbed his sister, the way he gave flirty winks at the girls in the crowd, the way he never dropped a muscle unplaced-

The way their father always noticed.

Fred saw these things in his younger brother and couldn’t help the fit of jealousy in his stomach. Don’t get your tightrope in a twist, he was possibly the most proud of his brother, and his hand to God if he didn’t say he hooted his name the loudest watching him do his thing.

But he never felt like he could ever match that.

He knew his hands were meant for something greater, same as his mind. Juggling came almost as easy to the older twin as breathing, smoking cigarettes, witty banter, and sex (in no particular order). But George had something Fred didn’t have.

Approval.

Fred was, for all intents and purposes, a good person. A great person. But his habits could’ve said so much otherwise.

Fred had a nasty habit of letting his temper get the best of him. Ever since he could talk, he had taken on the role of protector to not only George, but to Ginny and Ron as well. Frequently, his hands always seemed to have more things to say than he could which says a massive fucking lot. At the ripe age of 20, he’d gotten into more bar fights and straight up blacked out sober more than his own father, and all of his other siblings. He’d been in and out of detention when he did go to school, and in and out of-

Well, you get it.

The one thing that always seemed to follow him? His charm.

Fred Weasley was a charismatic motherfucker.

And he knew it.

It was simple. All he had to do in between acts was make a couple jokes, a few magic tricks, and by the end of his little charade? He’d have at least 3 girls lined up for that night. And if he was in a particularly bad mood?

Well, it could get a little more than that.

On nights like this, he was fine with just two.

I mean...Fred knew what he was doing.

And on a night like this - he was damn proud of it.

Until he saw you...

Last night.

Fred’s dessert was named Candy. He honestly couldn’t remember what her actual name was, but he did remember she said:

“Call me Candy. I taste like it, too.”

And honestly? That was really all he needed.

It didn’t take him long to press her small body against his caravan. She wound her arms around his neck and fisted into his flame colored hair and yanked, his hips rolling as he moaned into her lipstick stained mouth.

Fred always did have a thing for gals in red.

Fred realized his pants had begun to be a tad too tight, as Candy’s tongue licked into his mouth. his hands found their way under her dress, fingers kneading at her thighs and she squeaked. He lifted her legs at her noise and he wrapped them around his body, his bulge pressing into where she needed him the most.

“Fred, please” she whined, his mouth attaching to the valley of her breasts, the exposed skin of her dress warm and inviting.

“Please what, doll?” He teased roughly, his free hand sliding to cup her ass and squeezing. She gasped at his rough touch and he bit her collarbone.

“Fred, please, fuck me” she said airily. He smirked before pressing a quick kiss to her mouth.

“Absolutely, baby, see how easy that was?” He licked her bottom lip and bit, before pressing his forehead to hers, the sheer strength of his body pressing her against the van enough to use his hands to pull her panties down enough for her to kick them away. She reached down to unzip his pants when he motioned for her to do so, his hard cock free of his boxers.

“You ready, pretty girl?” He growled against her earlobe. Candy whispered a breathy “please” and Fred slid into her cunt, her wetness echoing sinful noises at the contact. They groaned at connection, and Fred continued to go deeper into her until he bottomed out. He looked at her for confirmation to keep going and she nodded. He pulled out and slammed back into her, beginning to set a rough pace against the van.

“Freddie, fuckfuckfuck you feel s-so good” she sputtered, Candy’s back hitting and arching against the van, causing it to move slightly against her. Fred nipped and sucked at her neck, determined to always leave a map of where he left his treasure behind...

“Look at you, unraveling like a ball of twine. Never had cock this good, doll?” He reached a particularly good angle in her causing her to claw deeper at his back, biting in a scream.

“Thereeee it is, baby. You like that don’t you, c’mon be a good little cock slut and tell me what you want, want everyone in this whole fucking camp to know I’m fucking you so good.” His hand went to her clit, circling it harshly. He wanted her to finish, his dick was twitching all to hard in her and he needed her to release before it was his turn. Her moans and gasps and mini clawings were getting sloppier, losing their tempo.

“Fred-Fred-“

“Yeah, baby, I’ve got you” he groaned against her mouth at her clenching pussy. She gave a final sputter and screamed into his shoulder, a hot electric wave coursing over his cock, with one, two, three harder pumps, he released into her as well. He leaned his forehead against hers and kissed it lightly. But when he looked back at her face, she was already losing interest. Just like the others. But it didn’t bother him...at least not anymore, right?

Just another night.

-

Memories of Candy and Janie and Jessica and Portia and all the other girls seemed to wash away at the sight of you waiting after the show. Your eyes were full of life but somehow had something tired behind them. The way your hair wasn’t perfectly coiffed but still looked like you had tried to, the way your dress was crinkled at the bottom like you didn’t give a shit if it was crumpled in the bottom of your dresser.

And then you looked at him.

Fred Weasley could have sworn time stopped at the way you walked across the hay to him, your body positioned in a way that would’ve given him every reason to hold you. he realized his face began to flush at the sight of you getting closer.

That, he thought, was an alien feeling.

“Hi.” You said warmly to him.

“You’re Fred, right? I loved your act.”

He blinked twice and then returned your smile.

“Yeah. Thank you so much, I...I really try, I am so sorry but what is your name?” His eyes scanned your face. You stuck your tongue in your cheek and returned the search on his face.

“Y/N. Y/L/N. I’m looking for a job.”

[tkc-info]

The Carranzas

The Carranzas were an old family.

@wagner-fell this is a bit all over the place please don't judge lol

You can’t lie to me.

I KNOW she’s pregnant.

Answer me.

Why aren’t you answering me.

Dario Australiaciano Carranza de Rojas don’t leave me on read, tell me Fumiko is pregnant.

Dario tsked at his phone.

My middle name is Austrecliciano, not Australiaciano, he typed quickly before hitting ‘send’ and very much continued leaving Charlie Proudhon on read.

A smile on his lips, Dario readjusted on his cousin’s bed so that he was laying down with his head cushioned by his threaded hands. His phone was at his side, tickling his left ribs every time Charlie sent him a new message. That is, every half second.

It was an art form, letting rumour spread and teasing your friends. Probably the only art form he had any talent for. Of course, ‘she’ —the girl Dario prided himself in calling his girlfriend— was not pregnant. Fumiko was just thoroughly grounded for an incident her fathers had called an ‘insane accident’ and which Dario’s mother had called something much worse in a much fouler language.

Dario was also grounded alongside the love of his life. His friends had been shocked when they’d learned that, as they still held the false belief that his silver tongue had any effect on the Mochizukis or his mother, but they’d quickly abandoned their puzzlement in favour of questioning the reason behind his and Fumiko’s present situation.

Although Dario could have answered their doubts, he thought hearing their ridiculous theories much more entertaining.

And if there was something better than hearing their theories, that was feeding them.

Dario picked his phone and wrote: Do you like the name Josefa for our daughter?

He could practically see Charlie frowning as her incoming message bubble blinked in and out of his screen. While his classmate thought of what to write, he poked his cousin Bella’s back with his foot just to annoy her.

“Hijo de puta,” Bella said, not looking up from her phone.

“Rude.”

Bella flipped him off.

The two smiled at each other.

“Want to see what Charlie’s writing?” Dario sat up and slid to his cousin’s side.

Bella took his phone in time for Charlie to make up her mind and send her reply.

You could have a son.

Now it was Dario the one who frowned. “I mean, I know,” he said in an audio “But, with my family’s history, you’d expect us to have a daughter. There have only been three Carranzas assigned male at birth; the first one died decades before the Spanish Empire began —that was 1492— the second one ended up being a trans woman, and I am the third one.”

He tried to speak softly. Charlie herself was genderqueer; to Dario, she visibly struggled with her identity, and it wasn’t his place to stir that which fuelled an inner debate that distressed her.

Whatever, Charlie’s reply read.

And the conversation was over.

Bella patted Dario’s shoulder a tad too forcefully. “Primo—”

“Vieja roñosa,” a new arrival cut her off.

Preciosa’s entrance had been as violent as her tone vicious. Dario thought she’d almost swung Bella’s door off her hinges. His cousin looked enraged.

The 1920s gown she wore, of an emerald green hue that matched her eye colour, was rumpled at the sides. Her half-dyed blonde hair had partly come off the gorgeous chignon Dario had tied it in a few hours ago, and the mother of pearl pins, necklace and bracelets she’d been wearing the last time he’d seen her were nowhere in sight. That, along with the mudded Oxford shoes she was gripping in each hand, gave her the appearance of a flapper intent on murdering a past infatuation.

“Roxia dame paciencia, porque sino…” Preciosa threw a shoe worryingly close to Bella’s head, then the other to the wall, leaving a footprint-sized mud stain directly on a portrait of Tatarabuela Crescencia.

Time jerked to a stop.

Dario’s mouth fell open —from the corner of his eye, he caught Bella turning completely white— and Preciosa had her hands to her chest as if her heart was threatening to jump out of her ribcage. They all moved at once: Dario and Bella abandoned the bed, and Preciosa jerked forwards so fast her chignon came fully undone. They made a circle around the portrait, which for the first time since 1939 had fallen from its spot on the wall by the bed’s right to the floor.

“La madre que me parió,” Preciosa whispered. Her voice trembled, as did the hand she poked Bella with “Check if it’s broken.”

Bella whipped her head to her. “You’re nuts,” she seethed “You did this.”

“I’m clumsy,” Preciosa shot back.

“I broke my leg walking.”

“Yesterday, I almost walked into an empty pool. Had it not been for Teddy, I would’ve died.”

“Had you died, this,” Bella pointed at the portrait accusingly “Wouldn’t have happened, so you go take it.”

“No.”

“No mis huevos.”

“You don’t have balls.”

“Semantics.”

Dario toned down his cousins’s childish argument the moment they switched to Andalusi Arabic. It was his time to flee. He was already grounded; he didn’t need his whole family scolding him. Preciosa and Bella, however… they were strong women.

He sent his animus to open the door, carefully, so as not to catch their attention. Then, he slowly began his retreat. He wondered where he’d hide: up an olive tree outside the Carranzas’s finca, in the kitchen no one but the automatons stepped in, the attic Dionisia had kept all her sister’s drawings in. As long as Dario didn’t set a foot inside the crypt, he could hide everywhere in Tatarabuela Leonila’s finca.

The door was close, Dario only had to reach his hand to grasp the doorknob. But when he did, he realised he couldn’t twist his wrist to open the door.

Dammit.

Dario took a deep breath. Schooled his expression into a charming smile and eyes, then turned around. “I’m hungry. I was going down to the kitchen to take the piononos Tita Nise bought this morning.”

“What do you think you’re doing?” Bella asked, still in the same scandalisation-tinted Andalusi Arabic she’d been using on Preciosa.

“Liar,” Bella accused.

Next to her, Preciosa nodded. “You were running away.”

Oh, if only Dario’s family was a little bit more like his teachers.

“Fine,” he put his hands up in defeat “Call me a monster for not wanting Tata to murder me. There’s a lot of things I have to do still, being kissed by Fumiko one last time my top priority.”

That was the wrong thing to say in front of Preciosa. She threatened to do something to Dario his classmate Hunter was likely to enjoy, that ultimately pushed him to pick up Tatarabuela Crescencia’s portrait she had stained.

Fortunately, it had not sustained any damage beyond that. Dario rubbed the mud with a T-shirt Bella tossed him, and passed his thumb over the glass to confirm there weren’t any cracks. Tatarabuela Crescencia’s mischievous smile met his gaze; his lips began quirking up. Tatarabuela Crescencia was probably one of his favourite ancestors. She’d been a member of Felipe II’s court. A spy. For years, she’d been the Boule’s main source of information on everything that went on in Spanish land —and she’d never been caught once, not even when she was stealing the King’s priced documents.

Dario knew every member of the Carranza dynasty. His family was an old and grand one, and by diving into the stories of the women (and that one other man besides Dario himself) that had conformed it, the hole left by not knowing his father was somewhat appeased.

“It’s not that I particularly mind not knowing who my father is, he could be dead for all I care. Nor do I lack positive male role models, either; I have Juro and Claude, my grandfather, and even Sohrab’s father —he’s fond of me, I guess,” Dario whispered to Tatarabuela Crescencia’s portrait in the outdated Spanish of the 16th century. Talking to portraits as if his ancestors would actually listen was something he’d inherited from his mother. It helped Dario make up his mind, so he didn’t hold back “But, you know, I’m still curious about him and the impact he had on Mum.”

Areusa Carranza often joked about the man that had impregnated her, but Dario knew something surrounding his birth haunted her. It made him wonder whether she spoke the truth every time she’d told him his father was a one-night-stand whose face she was too drunk to remember.

But Dario didn’t have time to dwell on that for the umpteenth time in these three months, for Preciosa went to kneel by his side. “I’m sorry,” she said, effectively bringing him back from his thought process. Preciosa’s eyes were glued to Tatarabuela Crescencia’s portrait “I was very angry because I hate her so much.”

Dario quirked an eyebrow at her. “Who?”

He rose, hung the portrait back on the wall, and extended a hand to his cousin. Preciosa’s grip was firm, and from her index finger her boyfriend’s silver ring glinted slightly. That ring had been a gift she’d made to Teddy the day after he’d come out; the simple silver band was adorned with the inscription ‘I am transgender and this doesn’t mean that I am unlovable’.

“She told Teddy to take it off,” Preciosa explained when she noticed Dario’s confusion; pronouncing the word ‘she’ like it burned her throat “His aunt, I mean.”

Dario frowned. “That’s—”

“I’m going to kill her,” Preciosa stood up and began taking off her stockings “Teddy and the triplets have always told me they hated her, but I never thought she’d be this bad.”

Dario opened his mouth to reassure her, but, in her fury, she threw her stockings at him and moved on to unbuttoning her dress. “Her mother-in-law —the sweetest woman I’ve ever met— has died. You would expect her to be with her husband, who was clearly the one mourning the most,” Preciosa walked to the closet, shoved her flapper dress inside, and took a black gown she immediately stepped into “You know, being there for your spouse is kind of an unspoken requirement; I was there for Teddy, Coraline Everitt was there for Teddy’s cousin —Oliver, I think.”

“Oliver’s not dating Coraline Everitt,” Bella cut in. Dario had almost forgotten about her, but she was sitting crosslegged on the bed, looking at them inquisitively “He was dating Atalanta just two months ago. I don’t think you get into a relationship so soon after breaking up with someone.”

“Yeah,” Dario agreed; though only absentmindedly.

Preciosa had mentioned Coraline Everitt. She was Fumiko’s cousin, a girl his girlfriend ached to meet but couldn’t right now. Dario felt compelled to inquire after Coraline extensively until Preciosa told him everything she knew. But now was not the moment.

“Whatever,” Preciosa went to seat at the vanity, and Dario knew to go grab a hairbrush and start styling her hair “That doesn’t matter right now. What matters is that Teddy is going to be made to feel unsafe for weeks,” she slipped her boyfriend’s ring out of her finger and brushed her thumb over the inscription “Apparently his grandma’s dying wish was to have her children and grandchildren make this big trip to commemorate her life, so that’s what they’re doing. But only Teddy’s aunt and uncle knew about the trip they were supposed to take, and they’ve already planned it all,” Preciosa furiously brushed away a tear “Teddy’s already gone through enough at school trying to get some teachers to quit mentioning his deadname, and to get those stupid boys to use the right pronouns. He doesn’t need to spend weeks in a transphobic and homophobic country —because naturally that bitch couldn’t choose a queer-friendly place like Iceland— holed up with a woman that—” Preciosa sighed and wiped more tears away “She demanded that Teddy take off his ring because it had the word ‘transgender’ on it. She told him that since he’s going to Aboveground Hungary he just shouldn’t parade around his transsexuality because the Hungarian government was working towards making his existence illegal.”

“What the fuck?” Bella muttered from the bed.

“Those were her exact words!” Preciosa ran her hands over her hair “And then she warned her son he had to ‘act straight’ because, what a surprise, the government also hates him. How can someone be so fucking inhumane to the people they’re supposed to love?”

Silently, Dario put her hair up in a simple chignon. There was a small, yet insanely annoying minority of people like Teddy’s aunt. Saz bigotry was rooted in the belief that atrocities Aboveground were only proof of humans’s inferiority in comparison to Saz; homophobia, sexism, racism… they were either to be made fun of or discarded as inconsequential, while those who worried over them were stupid for doing so. Dario couldn’t disagree more with them. He couldn’t understand living in a world where differences were regarded as equal, and then not condemning Aboveground countries for a hate he’d learned to be unnatural.

He could’ve told Preciosa so, but that’s not what his cousin needed. “I’ll try to get Teddy to come back as soon as possible,” he said instead, bending down to kiss her temple.

Preciosa turned her head to him. “Will you really?”

Her voice was tinged with weariness. She didn’t think Dario capable of it —only partially because he tended to blow things out of proportion— but she’d never seen him in action.

“I promise,” he nudged her playfully “You won’t even have to pay me.”

“Gilipollas,” Preciosa snorted.

Dario wisely let that insult go unnoticed. His mind was already hatching up a plan. Getting Teddy back would require knowing more about his aunt —perhaps Dario could convince her to cut their ‘holiday’ short— and possibly pull some strings somewhere. Dario could do it as long as he had Fumiko by his side.

“I’m going downstairs to wait for her,” he announced. There was no use specifying who ‘her’ was.

After making sure that Preciosa’s hair was properly arranged, Dario made his way out of the room to the stairs. The portraits of his ancestors blurred together as he slid down the handrail and deftly landed on the ground floor.

On his way to the front door, he found his aunts and grandparents sitting in the main drawing room. Dario carefully stopped walking to hide behind the threshold.

Directly below an enormous portrait of Tatarabuela Khadija —Tatarabuela Leonila’s daughter and the first of the Carranzas as The Kinship now knew them— his aunts Nise and Blanca stood hand-in-hand. Nise was Bella’s mother, and Blanca her stepmother. Dario’s aunt Finea sat on the couch beside them; her head full of brunette curls inspecting a letter, probably from her husband, who’d died during the train bombings in Atocha the year Preciosa, his and Finea’s daughter, was born.

Dario’s grandparents were sitting a few paces away from Finea. His grandfather, after whom Dario had been given his middle name, looked way older than his wife, even though he was three years younger. That’s because Elvyra Carranza Rache had decided to cryogenise her body at twenty-seven, and her anima had yet to show any ageing.

And, finally —naturally— Tatarabuela Leonila was also there, leaning against a shadowy nook with a shelf full of rich vases she’d stolen along the centuries. In her hands, a portrait Dario was well accustomed to.

“El niño está aquí,” his aunt Nise announced, not looking away from her wife but smiling triumphantly.

Dario tsked, and his aunt laughed.

“Tita, why can you never let me eavesdrop?” he mock complained.

“As if,” she finally turned her smile to him “Is my daughter annoying you too much?”

“Nah, Bellita’s fine. I just miss Fumiko.”

Aunt Finea raised her head at that. “Ah, young love,” she murmured “Just like Teddy and my Preciosa. They make a beautiful couple, don’t they?”

Dario wisely abstained from saying that Teddy and Preciosa were likely to go through some difficulties in their relationship. Aunt Finea already saw Teddy as his son-in-law, and were she to learn of his ‘family trip’, she’d take the first portal to Aboveground Sofia and will Teddy’s aunt into guillotining herself.

“Where’s my mother?” Dario said instead.

“Either picking olives for tonight’s dinner or in the crypt,” Tatarabuela Leonila said in her odd accent. She was older than the Spanish language itself, and sometimes had trouble updating her phonology.

Dario frowned. “In the crypt?”

“She’s in a foul mood today,” his grandmother piped in “Don’t you remember what day is it today?”

Dario’s frown deepened. He couldn’t believe that among worries over Teddy, he’d forgotten today was Domingo de Ramos. His mother was always in a foul mood during Semana Santa. Why? He couldn’t tell; none of his family could tell, really. Mum’s mood soured now and then —usually prompted by too much glimpsing into atrocities or by infuriating absurdities— but there were specific dates during which she simply was sad for no apparent reason whatsoever.

“I’ll go see her,” Dario announced. He didn’t wait for a dismissal before pivoting on his heels and making his way down the hallway to the crypt.

The portraits of the Carranza women stopped suddenly a few meters before the mouth of the spiral staircase which led to the crypt. Dario braced himself for the incoming cold. “Wish me luck, Tatarabuela Consuelo,” he told the nearest portrait.

The spiral staircase was absurdly long, rickety as if made of toothpicks, and so rusted Dario wondered how no one had ever got tetanus from it. There was no illumination, so he had to turn on his phone’s torch and walk with a hand on the freezing stone walls so as not to break a leg trying to descend the steep, narrow steps.

Twelve minutes later, Dario finally reached the beginning of a corridor; at the end of it, an armoured door from the first half of the 20th century. He knew what he would find behind it: the crypt proper, and Eulalia and Leonor Carranza Machado’s coffins.

Tatarabuela Leonila’s finca in the Granadino countryside had explicitly been built to hold the bodies of the two sisters, since they’d renounced of The Kinship in life, and thus were not allowed to rest like other Saz. They’d both fought against each other in the Spanish Civil War, and their coffins were dressed in the Franquista flag as well as the flag of the Second Republic. Eulalia had been a fascist; Leonor had repeatedly justified the murder and burning of priests and nuns. Neither Dario nor any of the other Carranzas were proud of them, so it unnerved him knowing his mother spent so much time in the crypt.

“¿Mamá?” Dario asked, opening the door.

Leaning against Eulalia’s coffin, Areusa turned to Dario. She blinked several times to return from her glimpsing, and said, “What are you doing here? It’s cold.”

“I inherited your genes, so if you can stay here, I can, too.”

Mum snorted. “Anda acércate,” she ordered. Dario obliged wordlessly, and let his mother grasp him by the shoulders to inspect him. She inspected him often, when no one was watching them, but had never told him why “Are you feeling sick?” she asked.

“Lovesick, Mama,” Dario answered jokingly, in his best imitation of a Victorian boy’s English accent “My darling is away. My very soul yearns for her.”

“Don’t speak like that, you remind me of your father and that makes my head hurt,” Mum brushed his hair aside fondly “What an annoying man. Let’s just be grateful that the only thing you got from him was your gender.”

“Am I half guiri?”

“Cambodian,” Mum snorted.

Dario hesitated briefly. “Were you thinking of him?”

His mother may exaggerate a third of everything she said and overuse sarcasm, but she’d never outright lied to him. At least, that’s what Dario thought. What he wanted to think. He’d never been able to tell deceit apart from truth when talking about his father.

“I was thinking of him.”

Dario took a deep breath. He couldn’t discern his mother’s face among the darkness, but by her tone… She was in pain.

“You know you can talk to me,” Dario murmured “I’m no longer a kid.”

Mum’s laugh was bitter. “You’re fifteen.”

“I’ll be sixteen in a few months.”

“November, you mean.”

“It’s already April, Mum.”

“November is seven months away.”

“Mum.”

Mum sighed. “We’ll talk when you’re eighteen. Until then, don’t worry about your father.”

There was no use arguing with Mum when she used that tone. Dario pushed his frustration aside by thinking of Fumiko. If the depth of the crypt hadn’t messed up with the time, she must’ve already arrived.

“Mierda,” he cursed “Mum, we have to get back up. Fumiko’s here.”

“I’m staying here for a while longer.”

“Why? Our family’s up there.”

Mum didn’t speak for a long while. Each second that passed, his heart sunk deeper and deeper.

“My family’s here.”

Dario’s heart broke. “Remember Tata wants us to see the procesiones today,” was the only thing he said before starting his way out of the crypt.

The blinded door closed behind him with a powerful pum! And still, he could hear the frail swish of her mother fishing her phone out of her skirt and picking up a call.

“Apologies,” Mum said in a feigned formal tone “I was talking to my son.”

A part of Dario wanted to stay behind and eavesdrop on his mother, but Areusa Carranza had as sharp a hearing as Aunt Nise. He couldn’t risk the little trust she had bestowed upon him.

Besides, the voice that answered back was decidedly feminine. It faintly reminded Dario of someone.

Coming back up from the crypt was always a bit dizzying.

Dario struggled with the lightning for a moment, and when he finally adjusted to it, found Aunt Elicia waiting for him.

“Tita?”

“Is your mother downstairs?”

Dario nodded. Aunt Elicia was Mum’s only older sister, and sometimes she seemed like her second mother. Aunt Elicia was positively affectionate and caring; Dario’s childhood memories were full of moments where her elegance-clad presence symbolised nothing but warmth. Aunt Elicia liked everyone but Eulalia and Leonor, and, in turn, was liked by everyone.

“Your mother can’t stay with those corpses forever,” Aunt Elicia tsked, picking the skirt of her flamenco dress and making for the staircase “I’ll fetch her. You go meet Fumiko in the kitchen, anda.”

“Yes, Tita,” Dario assented.

He bid his aunt goodbye, let her grab his jaw and kiss his cheek while she said ‘más guapo, mi niño’, and then made his way to the kitchen.

Every one of his worries faded into inconsequentialness the moment he reached the kitchen and spotted his Fumiko across the threshold. She had light of her own, the love of his life, her skin gleamed, her ebony hair shone like a bejewelled crown, her eyes steered Dario forwards.

They could safe him, those eyes.

Fumiko was dressed in the crimson traje de flamenca with a significant train Aunt Elicia had gifted her for her latest competition. She stood ramrod straight —divinity personified— even as she did as simple an action as eating a torrija.

“Hi,” Dario whispered from the threshold.

The love of his life smiled, making the light that radiated off her brighter, gesturing him to come closer until he could do nothing but oblige. He got to her side in a breath, circled a hand around her waist, and followed her in breaching the distance between their lips.

“Hello you,” Fumiko said once they’d drawn back. She interlaced their hands and brushed her lips past his knuckles “Where were you?”

Dario cringed. “The crypt.”

“Is your mother down there again?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Fuck. Mi amor, I—”

“My aunt is getting her back, don’t worry,” Dario cut her off “How has your training been?”

Fumiko’s lips pursed into a thin line, but she abstained from commenting on his change of subject. “It was fine,” she said “Although it wasn’t perfect. I need to win next tournament, and I won’t if I’m not perfect.”

She took the plate of torrijas and went to a table, looking slightly annoyed as she munched on her food. Dario joined her with a small smile dancing on his lips. Fumiko was fervently competitive with everything she was passionate about. At school, that meant Challenges —after all, she ached to become a gladiator— but Aboveground, it was the flamenco tournaments Aunt Elicia had convinced her fathers to sign her up to when she was a little girl.

Dario was ready to support his girlfriend and be there for her every step of her battle to the top, yet he always tried to remind her not to push herself too hard.

“None of those girls stand a chance against you,” he told her.

Fumiko cut a torrija in half and gave a piece to Dario. “That’s what you said last Challenge, and Charlie managed to beat my ass.”

“You’re wrong. Charlie didn’t beat your ass, she just wanted to impress Sohrab because he’s into that.”

Fumiko snorted. “When do you think those two will realise everyone knows they’re dating in secret?”

“Not everyone knows. Can I?” Dario asked, directing that question to the peineta that held her hair in place. When Fumiko nodded, he deftly slipped the ornament out and began getting her hair back to its usual state “For starters, I don’t think Hunter knows.”

“But that’s because Hunter is very obtuse. That guy does not know how to identify attraction of any type; trust me, if someone ever crushes on him, it’ll take them telling him straight to his face they like him for him to understand.”

“Don’t you think that would be interesting?” he asked as he finger-combed her hair “I want to see Hunter in a relationship.”

“Does he fancy someone at the moment? Aside from his weird crush on my aunt Dahlia, which is naturally going nowhere, I mean.”

Dario tensed.

“Dario?” Fumiko asked, craning her head up to meet his eyes. She frowned “Is anything the matter?”

“Your mention of Dahlia Everitt just made me remember,” Dario sat down and took her hands “Preciosa has met Coraline.”

Fumiko didn’t react for quite a while.

Then, she abruptly stood up. “I have to talk to your cousin.”

“No, no, mi amor,” he made haste to grab her wrist carefully; Fumiko quirked an eyebrow at him “We can’t ask Preciosa about your cousin quite right now,” he said.

“Oh?”

“Preciosa’s worried about Teddy; his aunt is disgusting, and now he’s stuck in a transphobic country,” Dario gently nudged his girlfriend closer, smiling even if his concern must’ve shone through his eyes “I promised Preciosa to get her boyfriend back as soon as possible. Afterwards, she’ll tell us what she knows about Coraline. Teddy will, too, since he’ll be home; his cousin is Coraline’s best friend, so he must have more information than Preciosa.”

Fumiko hesitated only briefly. Dario knew that she’d dreamed of meeting Coraline for years, and that being grounded in such a way —forbidden to meet her cousin until the school year started— annoyed her immensely. Fumiko yearned for information on Coraline, but she would wait just a while longer.

“Do you have a plan?” Fumiko asked him.

Dario smiled. “Why, of course.”

[glsneeg-enthusiast]

the funny thing about ethan breaking his fucking face is that i kind of. completely erased that part in the watered down part i posted. the less gross gross one

[mostlymovieswithmax]

Movies I watched in March

Thought I’d chronicle the films I’ve been watching over the March period, from the 1st to the 31st, and how I’d rate them. If you’re looking for something to watch, perhaps this will help. A lot of these movies are available on streaming services also.

The Wolf of Wall Street (2013) - 10/10

I hadn’t watched this in a couple of years but I was blown away. Peak Scorsese.

Rushmore (1998) - 7/10

Not the best Wes Anderson movie for me but still fun.

Lion (2016) - 8/10

I discussed this at length on my podcast: The Sunday Movie Marathon. Great movie!

The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014) - 10/10

Now this is one of the best Wes Anderson movies. I discuss this more on The Sunday Movie Marathon. Fantastic, funny and I watched it twice because it’s so much fun.

Inception (2010) - 10/10

Discussed on The Sunday Movie Marathon. Best Christopher Nolan movie for me, Inception is just breathtaking.

The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou (2004) - 5/10

This might be Anderson’s weakest film (at least from what I’ve seen) but it’s still not as bad as a lot of directors at their worst.

The Royal Tenenbaums (2001) - 10/10

I was really on an Anderson binge in March. The Royal Tenenbaums is one of the most wholesome movies I’ve seen and certainly one of his best films.

Rome, Open City (1945) - 4/10

This was filmed in Nazi-occupied Italy and from that premise, the film enticed me. Despite having some interesting qualities, I do feel that initial pull is most of what the movie has going for it.

The Prestige (2006) - 7/10

I showed this to my brother and for what it’s worth, he enjoyed it. I do think this is one of Nolan’s weaker efforts but considering how much I like it, that speaks a lot to Nolan’s filmography as a whole.

Nostalgia (1983) - 10/10

I watched Nostalgia three times in the space of a week and reviewed it on The Sunday Movie Marathon. It’s phenomenal.

Kangaroo Jack (2003) - 1/10

Another one I watched for the podcast. Kangaroo Jack is truly terrible and it upset me a great deal. Avoid this movie.

Stalker (1979) - 10/10

Another Andrei Tarkovsky movie (director of Nostalgia). I watched this again during the day before my second watch of Nostalgia and while it’s hard to compare such different movies, I enjoy Stalker more. It’s a staple of Russian cinema for a reason.

Four Lions (2010) - 5/10

Watched for the podcast. I didn’t really gel with this comedy but it would certainly appeal to someone who enjoys the humour, as my co-hosts did.

Revolutionary Road (2008) - 6/10

This Sam Mendes joint was a tad too melodramatic but still boasted some great performances from Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet.

Metropolis (1927) - 6/10

This silent film is a staple in cinematic history. Its themes are as painfully relevant today as they were in the 20’s, yet despite that I found a lot of it to be intensely boring. After it hit the hour mark, I started playing it at 1.5x speed.

Crimson Peak (2015) - 4/10

A lot of great set design and costumes and colours, yet the story itself was madly uninteresting.

Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind (2004) - 10/10

Who doesn’t love a good movie written by Charlie Kaufman? I reviewed this on The Sunday Movie Marathon and after a third watch, it is as fascinating as it is gut-wrenching.

Godzilla (2014) - 3/10

If you wanted to see Godzilla fight a bunch of monsters for two hours, then this is not the movie for you. There’s maybe about ten minutes total of on-screen Godzilla action and considering that’s really all anyone’s watching this for, it’s amazing the titular sea lizard occupies so little of the movie.

Prisoners (2013) - 10/10

Brilliant mystery thriller by my favourite director, Denis Villeneuve. Discussed on the podcast.

Eraserhead (1977) - 7/10

David Lynch’s debut feature film went down in my estimations this time around. You can listen to why on The Sunday Movie Marathon. Still, Eraserhead is a very good movie.

Raiders of The Lost Ark (1981) - 6/10

The first Indiana Jones movie proved to be a fun romp and Harrison Ford plays the character beautifully. I’m just not a big fan of Spielberg and his average verging on pretty good but rarely ever great movies. Perhaps on a second watch, I may enjoy this more.

The Seventh Seal (1957) - 9/10

Watching this movie again was so much fun. So far, it’s my favourite Ingmar Bergman film. It’s a celebration of life and love, with an underlying sense of dread as death looms ever-present.

Indiana Jones and The Temple of Doom (1984) - 5/10

I can tell why this generally looked on as the weakest in the trilogy. Harrison Ford is still great but the movie dragged a lot and felt more like a bunch of things happening for the sake of it rather than a fun action/adventure.

Indiana Jones and The Last Crusade (1989) - 7/10

The Last Crusade was a lot of fun and maybe it was Sean Connery’s inclusion, or perhaps the bottle of wine I drank through the movie elevated my enjoyment. But alcohol aside, I still believe this to be the best in the series.

Justice League (2017) - 2/10

People really weren’t kidding when they said this was bad. I watched this in preparation for the Snyder cut and I was not happy. This took years off my life.

Zack Snyder’s Justice League (2021) - 3/10

Barely any better and double the run-time of the original. I discussed this on The Sunday Movie Marathon and I was certainly not impressed. Better luck next time, Zack!

The Truman Show (1998) - 10/10

Brilliant movie and one I would highly recommend for a stellar Jim Carrey performance. This was another recommendation for the podcast.

Eighth Grade (2018) - 7/10

I was impressed with Bo Burnham’s debut feature. This is a coming of age story centred around a young girl growing up in the modern world and how it can affect the youth of today. Burnham shows a deep understanding of youth culture and a real knack for filmmaking.

Bad Education (2019) - 8/10

A real “yikes!” movie. If you want to learn a bit about the embezzlement that took place in an American school back in the early 2000’s, you need not look further than this tight drama with fantastic performances from Hugh Jackman and Allison Janney.

Twelve Monkeys (1995) - 8/10

One of the only movies where the time travel makes sense. I recommended this for The Sunday Movie Marathon and it’s pretty great.

Ready Or Not (2019) - 7/10

Despite a premise that is not wholly original and a super goofy third act, Ready Or Not is gory, violent fun with a lot of stylish art direction.

Dead Man (1995) - 3/10

Recommended on the podcast. I really did not get a lot out of Dead Man. It’s a very slow movie about Johnny Depp going through the woods and killing some people on the way, but it’s two hours long and hugely metaphorical and sadly it just didn’t connect.

Misbehaviour (2020) - 6/10

A big draw for me in Misbehaviour is Keira Knightley; I think she’s a great actor and I’m basically on board with anything she does. I’d been wanting to see this for a while and I was shocked to see just how relevant it is (being set in 1970) to the world we find ourselves in today, where women are still fighting to be heard and to be treated equally. While the film is not spectacular, I still got a lot from its themes, so recently after the murder of Sarah Everard and how women are being treated in their protest.

Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned To Stop Worrying and Love The Bomb (1964) - 7/10

I was surprised at just how hilarious this early Kubrick movie is. While I can’t say it floored me or took any top spots, it’s still a great examination of the military and how they respond to threats or try to solve problems and the side of war we don’t often see in films: the people in the background sitting in a room making crucial decisions.

Taxi Driver (1976) - 10/10

Wow! I can’t believe I’d never seen this before but I’d never really had access to it. Taxi Driver is a beautifully made movie with so much colour and vibrancy. De Niro puts on perhaps his best performance and Paul Schrader’s timeless script works miracles.

Sleepy Hollow (1999) - 5/10

Classic Tim Burton aesthetics in a pretty by the numbers, almost Supernatural-esque story eked out over an hour and forty minutes.

Seaspiracy (2021) - 6/10

Everyone’s going crazy over this documentary and I agree it tackles important issues we’re facing today surrounding the commercialization of the fishing industry, but a lot of what’s presented here is information already available to the public. The editing feels misplaced at times and the tone is all over the place. Nonetheless, it’s still quite fascinating to see good journalism being done in a way that exposes this side of the industry.

Pirates of The Carribean: The Curse of The Black Pearl (2003) - 8/10

Super fun and a great first instalment in a franchise that sadly seems to have peaked at the first hurdle.

My Octopus Teacher (2020) - 8/10

Great cinematography and a lovely premise, this documentary has garnered an Oscar nomination and I can see why.

The Sisters Brothers (2018) - 8/10

A really solid western I was happy to watch again. It’s a shame no one really talks about this movie because it is excellent with stunning visuals and great performances.

Pirates of The Carribean: Dead Man’s Chest (2006) - 5/10

A strangely massive drop in quality from the original. If I didn’t like the whole concept of this franchise so much, I might have had a worse time.

Reservoir Dogs (1992) - 8/10

On a second watch, Tarantino’s first feature is still wildly impressive.

Life of Brian (1979) - 7/10

This is perhaps my third time watching Monty Python’s Life of Brian and it’s still incredibly funny, however it never manages to measure up to its predecessor (and one of my all time favourites), Monty Python and The Holy Grail.

[with-love-anu]

Never leave me again

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Summary: You leave everything behind after the war. What happens when you come back

Warnings: breaking down, anxiety, character death

Word Count: 1,615

You pulled the coat tighter around your body, shivering from the cold. Walking through the diagon alley, you felt a wave of nostalgia hit you. You looked around the shops, remembering shopping and having fun at various places and it all felt so far far away. You saw the enormous colourful sign board of the Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes and you took in a deep breath. It had been so long since you’d seen George.

You held George in your arms as he shook violently. You were crying too, tears streamed down your face constantly but you didn’t have time for yourself. George needed you. He didn’t stop for hours. No matter what someone did or said there was nothing anyone could do to reach out to him. You just held him, because just like him you felt numb too. Everything was blurry. Way too loud as something seemed to ring in your ears. George looked at you.

“Why?” he croaked. You looked at him in confusion. Your head was pounding and you weren’t sure what was going around you.

“Why did you save me? Why did you push me out of the rumble? I was hoping you’d save us both” he said as your mouth quivered.

“George, I didn’t. I didn’t choose anyone. I-“

“You could have let me die, it would have been better than this.”

“Don’t say that, I d-“

“NO,” George took your hands in his. “Why would you do this to me? You could have let both-“

“George, stop! I’m sorry I just-“you were shouting.

“NO NO NO (Y/n)!” George screamed. “You, could have saved him, he would have been alive. He would have been here celebrating with us. He-”

You were frozen to the ground; you didn’t even hear what he rambled on. Your vision was smeared with tears and yet he failed to notice it.

“… Leave, just leave. I don’t ever want to see you again.” You heard somewhere in between and your heart beat stopped. He wanted to leave too? It was too much too handle. You turned slowly, and apparated to your apartment. You fell on the ground and cried for what felt like days. You didn’t quite well remember what happened after. You just remembered packing your bags and swishing to the forest you went camping to as a kid.

***

A man bumped into you breaking your reverie. You blinked. You contemplated whether you should go inside. Shaking your head, you stalked towards the red yellow shop. The doorbell ringed as you opened the door and you saw Ron. His eyes widened a bit and he gave you a wide smile.

“(Y/n)! How are you?” he said joyfully and you found yourself smiling.

“Never better.”

“Oi George! (Y/n)’s here.” Ron called out and you felt your heart beating faster. George came down stairs mumbling.

“What Ron? I’ve t-“he froze and he saw you. You looked more beautiful than ever.

You gave him a small smile and waved a little. He looked older, better. He blinked as if coming back to his senses. He cleared his throat and opened his mouth to say something but Ron interrupted in.

“Why don’t you two go to the back area, you’ll be able to talk.” Ron said smiling and gesturing towards the customers.

George led you to a small room and offered a small seat.

“How have you been?” you asked breaking the tense silence.

“Good. Ron decided to help with the shop saying he wanted simpler things. Who would have thought? Ron actually comes up with amazing prank ideas.” He said leaning back as you let out a small laugh.

“What about you? Where have you been? It was as if you disappeared from the face of the earth.” George asked in a light tone but you could feel the hurt there. You did disappear without any trace.

“I’ve been travelling. After,” you cleared your throat. “After the war, it all felt too much. It hurt too much. So I ran away.”

You didn’t know what else to say. There were more than a thousand things you wanted to say right then, but couldn’t. You couldn’t get it out. You had missed him, so so much. His freckles, smiles, jokes.

“I read your book.” George sighed and your face quipped up.

“You did?”

“Yeah.” George breathed. “the character Emma, you were Emma, right?”

Your eyes widened slightly. Of course he knew that, he was your best friend.

“Yes.” You said as he nodded at you. “I never thought you’d read it.”

“It was your book, I had to.”

It felt noisy, the silence that eloped you. You had the urge to say something, George did too.

“How’s everyone?” you asked. “How’s Ginny, Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley?”

“Ginny got into the Holyhead Harpies,” George said as your eyes went wide and you smiled.

“Holy shit! That is so so nice!”

“It is.”

“Mum and dad are happy than ever, Charlie is still working with dragons. Percy’s got a nice job as a manager and Bill and Fleur had a baby.” He continued as you tried to suck in everything that you lost.

“That’s amazing. I missed so much.” You said and sucked in a breath, “I missed you.”

George looked at you softly.

“I did too.”

Taking in a deep breath you got up.

“I should go…” you said turning towards the door. A selfish part of you wanted to stay there desperately. After all those years…

“(Y/n)!!!” George called out and you turned quickly. Too qickly.

“Would you” George swallowed, “like to go out, you know, and catch up sometime?”

You nodded and let a small smile play at your lips.

“Madam Rosemeta’s at 7?”

“I’ll be there.”

***

You looked at your appearance yet again, checking for some imaginary wrinkles. You sucked in a breath.

“This is stupid, he’s George!” you chided yourself. It was true, you’d been best friends with him and Fred since childhood. Except for well, one night. You squeezed your eyes shut. What was about him that eased and set you on the edge at the same time?

You took a deep breath, apparating to the pub you went as a teen. You sighed looking around. It hadn’t changed, not one bit. The same quaint Hogsmead. You felt a gush of warm air as you entered the pub. George waved over to you as you made a beeline towards him.

He had already ordered a butterbeer since it was served as soon as you sat down. The two of you talked for hours. George had matured, a lot. He was always the calmer one, of the two of them. While Fred was always quick to retort, George always tried to take in the situation before anything. He still had the aura of mischief around him, his eyes sparkled as he made a joke. He pointed out to the teens sneaking out recalling all the stories of your years at Hogwarts.

“(Y/n)! George!” Madam Rosemeta’s chirpy voice came. You looked up to her. She was a little rounder and had more white hair. You smiled at her.

“Hello!”

“Don’t you two look just lovely today! I haven’t seen you in years, are you finally together?” your eyes widened and George let out a laugh.

“Oh no no, it’s nothing like that.” He said a tad bit bitterly as she smiled leaving.

You both were quiet for a while.

“Do you remember? Do you remember how many kids used to come to ask us whether we dated?” you asked and biting your lip, giggling. George snorted.

“Are you dating (Y/n)?” he said in a squeaky voice and you laughed.

“WishIwere.” George mumbled and you furrowed your eyebrows.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing. Wanna go through the woodlands?” he asked and you nodded getting up.

***

You both walked through the woods as you’d a thousand times before. But this time felt different. It wasn’t because Fred wasn’t there. There had been countless times it had been just you and George. Walking through the forest, sitting in front of the fire in the common room, chilling by the lake, him disturbing you in the library, dancing at the Yule ball after ditching your dates, sneaking off to George’s bedroom during Bill’s wedding…

This time was different. It was as if something weighted on your shoulders. You kicked small peddles on your way.  George cleared his throat.

“I went to your apartment after…” he whispered.

You looked at him. You knew what he was talking about.

“And it was empty, you’d gone. You never said goodbye.” He sniffed. Your eyes watered too.

“George I-“ you said but he interrupted you.

“Wasn’t it me though? I was the one who acted like a complete prat. I should have supported you-“

You cut him off by hugging him tightly. He wrapped his arms around you, burying his face in your neck. You relaxed immediately drinking in the similar scent of pine wood and incomparable warmth. You missed him.

As you pulled back there were tears in both your eyes. You both giggled a little at that. George looked at you and removed a twig from your hair. You didn’t know how it happened, who leaned in but it happened and you kissed. And you couldn’t even blame the moment. His hand slid along your waist and the other one cupped your cheek. You let your hands wander in his locks pulling at the a little. It was like fireworks throughout your body. As you pulled back, George held you by your waist. He placed his forehead over yours.

“Never leave me again.” He whispered.

“I don’t plan too.”

A/N: Written for Ria’s ( @im-a-writer-right ) 2K writing challenge! Tell me what you think of my first George Weasley Fic!

[peanutbutterjelly-pie]

prompt: Undercover

hosts: @bend-me-shape-me, @helianthus21, @pray4jensen

Dean has been undercover for many times in his life.

FBI agent, Homeland Security officer, reporter, janitor, gym teacher, lunch lady, maintenance guy, minister, private detective, and so on and so on. The list is so long that he's actually more familiar with playing a role when interacting with strangers than being himself.

So when they're on yet another case again and Sam calls him from the local library and tells him to dress up Dean doesn't even think about questioning it.

“Your fanciest clothes,” Sam orders, making it pretty clear there should be no discussion about it. “Designer suit, shiny shoes. And a shave because you're starting to look like a hobo.”

Dean barely lifts an eyebrow. “What do you need me to be? A snobby multimillionaire too good for this world.”

“The snobbiest,” Sam agrees. “It needs to look like the stench of money is following you everywhere.”

And so Dean does as he's told.

A while ago he got himself one of those super expensive Armani or whatever outfits for a case (thanks to Charlie's unlimited credit card no problem at all) and has it stashed in the depths of Baby's trunk ever since. It's only been used once so far considering fake FBI agents or journalists are rarely dressed in designer suits. At least not if they don't want to draw too much unwanted attention to them.

Dean isn't exactly sure the damned thing still fits after all that time, but after a quick shower and shave he gives it a try and finds himself pleasantly surprised when the suit still wraps itself over his body like a glove. Only around the hips it got a bit tight, but if he'd refrain from bending over it should be fine.

And it actually makes his ass look extra great, Dean has to admit. He snaps a quick picture of it and sends it to Cas because he can't help himself. Cas answers immediately with a long string of enthusiastic emojis that are both incredibly sweet, involving lots of hearts, as well as highly inappropriate and Dean loves him even more for it.

He makes a mental note to wear that suit the next time they'll be alone to see how fast the angel would be able to rip the clothes off his body and then he heads out to meet with Sam.

Soon enough he finds himself in front of a jewelry store, with his tall mountain of a brother waiting at the entrance. He is dressed in fancy clothes as well and considering he left their motel room a few hours ago just with his usual plaid attire he obviously went shopping in the meantime. The suit doesn't fit a hundred percent in some places, making it obvious this was a rather quick shopping trip with no time for a proper fitting, but it makes him nonetheless look extra posh too.

“We look good,” Dean remarks with a grin as he stops next to Sam. “Like we could buy all of the world in a heartbeat and still have a couple of millions left as pocket money.”

Sam merely huffs with a fond smile. “If you say so.”

“So what is the situation?” Dean asks, pointing at the store.

“I just got a lead that our annoying spirit might have a connection to a wristband that's on display here,” Sam tells him. “It had belonged to her before she died. And I know it's not much, but I wanna check it out anyway.”

That specific spirit had been annoying them for days now because they were unable to figure out what kept her here in the first place. So Dean will take any lead they can get, no matter how small.

“I'm actually not very optimistic,” Sam explains with a sigh. “But our ghost is showing up here in the area, so it's not a total longshot. We just need to get inside and distract the employees a little.”

“Hence the fancy clothes.” Dean nods in understanding. He highly doubts they would've even gotten past the security guard on the door in their usual jeans. Most likely even their regular FBI suits wouldn't have been good enough.

“So we just go inside and one of us pretends to be a customer while the other subtly checks out that wristband?” Dean asks nonetheless.

Sam nods. “Don't worry, I have a plan.”

Dean blinks, but has no time for further questioning since Sam's already shoving him through the gigantic front door. He's instantly greeted with lots of bling and bright lights and the absolute perfect room temperature (like seriously, did they hire a guy just to keep a close eye on that the entire time?) before getting pushed to the main counter where a blonde woman with a way too wide smile happily waits to bury her flawlessly manicured nails into those new  potential buyers.

“Welcome,” she says, her voice as melodic and perfect as the air in the store. “How can I be of assistance?”

“Well, we've got an important purchase to make,” Sam announces, sounding all kinds of pompous. “Because you see, my brother here,” he grabs Dean's shoulders and grins at him with such an intensity Dean can't help feeling wary all of a sudden, “he intends to propose to his boyfriend.”

Dean blinks rapidly.

What?

Okay, Dean certainly didn't expect that.

The woman – Marlene, as her name tag tells them – seems taken aback by that for a moment as well, but she picks herself up much quicker than Dean. Her smile increases a few thousand watt while she turns toward the groom-to-be. “This is wonderful. Congratulations!”

Dean feels a bit like he's been hit right in the face, out of nowhere.

Thankfully he is actually used to unexpected violent attacks and has learned fairly early to deal with them.

“Um … thanks,” he mumbles, feeling his cheeks heating up.

Marlene apparently misinterprets his awkward fumbling for adorable shyness or whatever and looks at him like she's ready to adopt him right here on the spot.

“You have to excuse him, this is still a bit much for him,” Sam leaps back into the conversation. “He's been thinking about this moment for years and I guess it might be a tad surreal that it's finally happening.”

“Really?” Marlene seems truly intrigued hearing that.

“Yeah,” Sam sighs way too dramatically, “Dean's basically been thinking about marrying Cas since the first moment they met.”

Well.

Actually his first meeting with Cas was more like Dean having a sudden realization á la, “Wow, he's hot!” and then stabbing the guy in the chest.

But Dean refrains from pointing that one out.

It might have ended in those people declaring them insane and kicking them out of the store. And though Dean is used to the first, he doesn't need the latter right now.

“Dean just wants everything to be perfect,” Sam points out, sounding exactly like a guy who is used to getting what he wants. “It's a big day.”

“It most certainly is,” Marlene agrees, dollar signs already flashing up in her eyes. “We have a vast collection of engagement rings and I'm sure we will find something to your liking.”

“Money is not the issue,” Sam says those magic words that make Marlene even more excited, so it seems. “The bigger and more extravagant, the better.”

Marlene smiles widens, appearing incredibly sweet and harmless on the surface. But Dean knows a predator focusing on its prey when he sees it.

On instinct he actually wants to take a step back and hide, but instead he gathers enough courage to meet her smile. It's still somewhat wobbly, but she probably blames it on his alleged nervousness about that big change in his life.

“Why don't you tell me a little bit about your Cas?” she prods him. “What is he like?”

Dean shoots a quick glance at his brother, cursing him for having to endure this in the first place, before clearing his throat and responding, “He's … um, awesome.”

Way to go, Winchester.

She is certainly swooning on the spot.

Dean winces inwardly and forces himself to get a little bit more into his role. After all, he is used to the undercover life, so this shouldn't be too hard.

For a minute there he even considers to lie about Cas' personality, wondering whether that would make it easier to talk about him to a total stranger, but as he's just about to come up with some made-up character traits, he hears himself saying, “Well, to be fair, he's an asshole.”

Marlene looks at him in surprise while Sam in the background rolls his eyes.

“Uh … okay?” Marlene answers, clearly not sure how to reply to that.

“Cas is grumpy,” Dean goes on, now a fond smile flickering over his features. “I'm quite certain he is the biggest grump in the history of mankind, to be honest. And he's way too sassy for his own good. Also he has no idea how to clean up after himself and he always hums those annoying jingles he heard on the radio or whatever. All day. I'm actually surprised I haven't gone mad many years ago.”

Or maybe he has.

With his life, who could tell?

“But he's also a badass,” Dean continues, registering the only other employee who's been lacking any customers at the moment sliding closer with clear interest in her eyes. “No one should dare to screw around with him. And the few that actually did regretted it pretty quickly.”

That's, of course, an understatement actually, but he won't go into much detail now. For those poor women's sanity.

“And he cares, so much,” Dean goes on, an affectionate smile settling on his face when his thoughts drift closer to Cas. It's an automatic response at this point and he's pretty sure it'll stay like that for the rest of his life. “Even about that stupid little fly that got lost into our room a couple of weeks ago. It feels like we spent hours catching that thing and releasing it back into the wild. But what could you have done, you know? Cas would've been miserable if that fly would've died inside and that's something nobody wants to see. Believe me. He looks like a kicked puppy when he's sad.”

The salesladies scoots even closer, captivated by Dean gushing over his boyfriend. While Sam subtly starts to step back a little and check out the rest of the display, trying to locate the wristband of their obnoxious ghost.

Dean clears his throat, despite still feeling like he's been thrown into icy water without any warning whatsoever by his traitorous brother more than determined to play this role like their lives depend on it. After all, there here and they might not get a second chance.

So Dean gives it all he's got.

“So yes, Cas, he's great,” he says. “He's been my best friend for such a long time now and I … I guess I want him at my side for the rest of my life. And even beyond that.”

Dean smiles at the image of sharing his Heaven with Cas one day. It might be a hassle to get there at first – after all, Cas' relationship with his brethren is still not the best –, but Dean has no doubt that it'll come true eventually. Cas is way too much of a stubborn son of a bitch to not see this through.

Dean blinks as he suddenly realizes that he is in fact beginning to fantasize about Cas by his side forever as a real possibility.

Huh.

“As mentioned, we have a vast collection of engagement rings to help you start this new chapter of your life,” Marlene says with a happy sigh. “We would be more than happy to help you with your endeavor.”

Dean stares at her for a moment.

Oh right. Rings. The case.

“Yes, right,” he mutters, a slight blush on his face now. “It … it needs to be perfect.”

Marlene and her colleague – Amanda, as her name tag tells him – immediately spur into action and for the next ten minutes Dean sees himself confronted with a huge variety of different rings in all shapes and forms. A few are actually quite simple and elegant – silver bands with a couple of nice highlights – and some are seriously so over-the-top pompous and big Dean has no idea how a normal human being should be able to wear that on their hand.

But he smiles at them all and fakes such exaggerated interest both Marlene and Amanda seem to believe they're in Heaven themselves.

And it seems like a freaking eternity until Sam pops up next to him again.

“I'm so sorry to interrupt, ladies,” he jumps right into their enthusiastic conversation. “My girlfriend just texted me. Her doctor's appointment ended way earlier than expected and I need to pick her up.”

A blatant lie, of course, considering Eileen is back at the bunker with Cas, probably getting her ass beaten in every single board game invented by the best of all strategists Heaven has ever produced.

“But don't worry, Dean will be back shortly,” Sam promises right away as both Marlene and Amanda look rather crestfallen at those news. “After all, Dean can't wait to get married.”

They bid hasty goodbyes and are soon enough back on the streets again.

“So, any luck?” Dean asks when he's starting to remember the real reason why they went into the store in the first place.

“I found the wristband,” Sam admits. “But there's no suspicious energy to it. It's just jewelry.”

“Damn,” Dean sighs. “Well, it was worth a shot, at least.”

“Yeah …”

“And that was one hell of a cover story, Sammy,” Dean can't help pointing out for some reason.

Sam shoots him a quick glance, something intense flickering over his features.

“It wasn't though, right?” he asks in the end. “A cover story, I mean. Not really, at least.”

Dean frowns. On first instinct he wants to deny that, just wants to scoff at his brother's face and get on with his life, but then he thinks about Cas and how nice he would look with a ring on his finger and he finds himself lowering his gaze to cover up the flush on his cheeks.

“Uh … well, maybe it wasn't really a cover story after all,” he admits, his voice low, yet steady.

“So you want to go back?” Sam wonders, a smile on his lips. “ Look at those rings again? When this case is over and everything.”

Dean blinks. A few of those rings actually did look kind of awesome, if he's honest with himself. And sure, they're pretty expensive, but also very durable (an important feature in their line of work), and Dean surely didn't lie when he said that Cas only deserves the best.

So he finds himself muttering, “Yeah, I guess I wouldn't mind going back” and feels rather good about it.

Seems like Dean seriously has an important purchase to make after all.

[seriouslysam8]

Hullo, Sam. I have just finished reading Kalopsia and let me say, it was a wild ride! I loved it very much. I even called in sick to work today so I could stay home and read it.

I have a few more questions, so sorry to bother you again but I hope you will take the time to answer them.

1) I’ve noticed you don’t give Hermione a lot of screen time, do you have something against her? I felt so bad for her when she expressed her worry about not being able to follow Harry and Ron on their adventures anymore. Do you think this was something Hermione actually worried about even knowing how good they are at their job?

2) I know I asked it before in reference to violent crimes, but the cursebreakers, forensic experts, etc. Have you made the department have all of these categories like you can be an Auror cursebreaker or an Auror forensic expert? Does that mean Bill could work for the Auror department if he wanted to or is that a different field of cursebreaking?

3) What is an O-Team? Is that like an A-Team? What does it stand for?

4) The incredible amount of detail you put into the healers work, from the respiratory bubble charms, to beeping charms. Do you have medical experience? It comes across as so realistic. How did you turn it so magical sounding?

5) If Demelza is a junior Auror, what are Harry and Ron? How do you rank the Aurors? I remember in Breanie’s work, A Second Chance. Tonks is an A1 and then moves up to an A3 which I think is the highest level. Is your system the same? What did you base it on?

6) That’s twice now I’ve noticed you mention Ron as a baker. Why a baker over a chef? Why food at all? Is that a secret dream you think Ron has? Why does he continue to be an Auror?

7) I love that Demelza calls Harry and Ron husbands! Sutton is the best Auror next to Ron and Harry? Who is Demelza’s partner? How come Sutton doesn’t have a partner? Why is Demelza’s partner crappy?

8) Sympathy cravings? Pre-baby weight? I need to know more about Ron during Hermione’s pregnancy! What was he like?

9) Ron sure likes to tall about and to shake his arse. Is he really that vain about it or did someone (namely Hermione) comment that he has a great arse and he just never let it go? I fully support that if that’s the case.

10) Who is Montgomery? Who is Holmes? What Auror positions are they? Who is Reed?

11) You’ve mentioned the Dursleys a few times now, but we haven’t seen them since Croup, will we see the Dursleys at all? Or at least Dudley? Does Harry stay in contact with them? Do his kids know them?

12) So far, you haven’t once mentioned Charlie. Will we get to see him? Does he ever come back from Romania in your story? Is he married or have kids?

Thank you again. Sorry to bother you. Thank you.

1. I’m not the biggest Hermione fan. I find her character quite annoying, if we’re being honest. Plus, I find her difficult to write. So, she’s always a background character. I think naturally she worries about Ron and Harry because they have such dangerous jobs. Ginny worries as well. I think, given the nature of their jobs, it would be hard not to worry.

2. I’m theory, yes, I suppose Bill could work as a forensic cursebreaker, but the training would be different. I think it’s much like in the Muggle world, you can go down different career paths with a single job title. I saw you read about the medical cursebreaker as well. Bill would be more qualified to work for the Aurors than with St. Mungo’s. Medical is a different ballgame.

3. Yes, it’s like the A-Team. It’s O for Outstanding, the highest grade you can receive at Hogwarts. They’re the O-Team.

4. No, none at all. I just research a lot. And I just did turn it magical? Sometimes, it’s hard so I talk it through with Brie or with a beta. Sometimes I think of it on my own. It’s always a process though.

5. I feel like my ranks are pretty simple. There’s trainees, junior Aurors, and senior Aurors. Ron and Harry would be senior Aurors. It’s based off of solve rate, experience, performance. It’s not like a set year and you switch over. I didn’t really base it on anything.

6. I think having Molly Weasley as a mother, you’d be a pretty good baker and/or chef. I picture Ron as a good baker and Ginny as a good cook. I think Ron would enjoy being a baker but he also enjoys being an Auror. I think the job bothers him at times so he says he’s rather be a house husband or a baker, but he generally likes his job and loves working with Harry.

7. Ron and Harry do act like husbands. I would say Sutton is probably one of the best Aurors, he’s very good at his job and well respected. To be honest, I don’t think I ever gave Demelza’s partner a name or really developed him besides he’s a bit of an idiot. He’s just not a very good Auror and Demelza just kind of leaves him in the dust a lot until she gets a new partner when she rises to the rank of senior Auror and they still stay a junior. Funny you should ask about Sutton’s partner. I had his partner retire around Kalopsia so he was partnerless for a little bit. When Demelza gets promoted after Kalopsia to senior Auror, she actually gets paired with Sutton. I wanted Demelza and Sutton to eventually become partners because he really lets her take the reigns on cases and let’s her shine and move up.

8. Ron was dramatic while Hermione was pregnant. He’d say stupid shit like, “Oh yeah, Hermione and I are eating for two.” Or “Hermione and I craved some bangers last night.” He was 100% invested in the pregnancies and sympathized with Hermione’s plights to the point where he got a tad annoying.

9. Hermione made a comment and Ron just can’t let it go. He does have a fine, fine arse though.

10. Montgomery Reed is a senior Auror, around Sutton’s age (both are roughly 10 years older than Harry and Ron). Holmes is Demelza’s rank, a junior Auror.

11. Harry is only in contact with Dudley. They get together once or twice a year, their kids know each other, and they’re on decent terms. As you know, Harry sees Petunia briefly in Discomposure. She also makes a short appearance in Brontide. You will see Dudley in Legerdemain.

12. Charlie is still in Romania. Not married, no kids. I don’t think he ever makes an appearance? If it does, it’s just a mention he’s there. He just chills in Romania doing his own thing, managing a dragon reserve.

[telltalebatman]

oc facts: charlie

no one tagged me i just love her a lot

PLACE IN SOCIETY

✖ FINANCIAL – wealthy / moderate / poor / in poverty

like all of my oc/canon girls, charlie is filthy rich - and all of it came from her parents, a politician/university professor and a med school lecturer/a highly respected surgeon. some of those money her parents got from their families; but the point is - charlie never had to worry about money. (until she met her soon-to-be husband who robbed her blind.) charlie has no problems with sharing her wealth with those in need - she frequently donates to various fundraising campaigns.

✖ MEDICAL – fit / moderate / sickly / disabled / disadvantaged

she’s bit of a couch potato, and a bit clumsy too; she certainly wouldn’t run in a marathon, and finds herself out of breath after a short, intense jog - but it’s nothing too severe. what she lacks in shape, she makes up with agility - she practices yoga, which renders her a tad more agile than an average person. she still can’t do a lot of things though.

✖ CLASS OR CASTE – upper / lower / middle / working / unsure

charlie is, whether she likes it or not, a member of the social elite. her father spent two terms as a mayor of metropolis when she was a kid, and is an active politician, and a college professor. her mother is a globally renowned as a surgeon and comes from european nobility. charlie grew up with children of ceos, leaders, celebrities - and even after the untimely demise of her parents at the hands of her husband and moving to metropolis, she still finds herself amount the elite, quickly befriending bruce wayne himself, as well as getting cautious attention of the maroni crime family, one of gotham’s assistant district attorneys and thomas elliot - one of gotham’s golden boys, a highly esteemed surgeon and her mother’s pet student. and whether all of this is good... that is a different matter entirely.

✖ EDUCATION – qualified / unqualified / studying

charlie has a master’s degree in english literature - nothing more, and nothing less.

FAMILY

✖ MARITAL STATUS – married, happily / married, unhappily / engaged  / partnered / divorced / widow or widower / separated / single / it’s complicated

she’s a widow - because she killed her husband. it was an ugly mess of a situation - he killed her parents, stole her fortune (in the canon verse - in various aus this changes, depending on what I have in mind) and ran away, prompting her to go on a wild goose chase across the globe, culminating in her finally tracking him down and stabbing him to death with an ice pick. one thing she hadn’t expected though was ending up in a long-term, happy, loving relationship with oz: gotham’s prodigal son, a failed revolutionary and a loyal friend to his (at times unwilling) loved ones.

✖ CHILDREN – has children / no children / wants children / adopted children

the idea of motherhood is kinda scary to her - she’s not opposed to being a cool aunt to someone else’s kid though. (in chasing echoes oswald is eventually going to pull jason todd to his side, and charlie’s gonna develop a fun, unexpectedly satisfying relationship with bruce’s troubled ex-errand boy.)

✖ FAMILY – close with sibling / not close with siblings / has no siblings / siblings are deceased / it’s complicated

✖ AFFILIATION – orphaned / adopted / disowned / raised by both parents / it’s complicated

even though charlie - painfully aware of her own personal mediocrity - sometimes felt like she doesn’t quite fit in with her social, accomplished parents - they still made a happy family. for various reasons, her relationship with her mother - eleanor - was always just a bit strained and tense; but it was still, above everything else, loving.

TRAITS & TENDENCIES

✖ disorganized / organised / in between

if left to her own devices, charlie’s going to inevitably scatter her belongings everywhere, forget about doing the dishes and start getting late to things. due to unfortunate depression - time simply flows differently for her.

✖ close-minded / open-minded / in between

charlie is very open-minded, thanks to her father being an outspoken leftist - perhaps even a bit too open-minded. after the split-second of initial confusion, she’d be willing to accept everything - even a violent “revolution”. even an unjust revenge. some may call it open-mindedness; others - naivete.

✖ cautious / reckless / in between

in general, she’s rather cautious - mostly thanks to overwhelming depression and anxiety that make her doubt her every move.

✖ patient / impatient / in between

most of the time, she’s patient - but then come those times when she’s waiting for oz to hurry up and pay attention to her. then, suddenly, she’s the most impatient, almost nagging person you’ve ever met. it has a lot of charm though, because she’s well-aware of being a pain in the ass.

✖ outspoken / reserved / in between

this is something her parents taught her - have your opinion, but know a time and place for it. don’t reveal too much to people you don’t trust, or to people you want to see gone. after all, her mother did come from a noble family, and her father did have a political career. even if he kept challenging his rivals to fistfights.

✖ leader / follower / in between

charlie has absolutely NO desire to lead, or to be in the spotlight - and to be honest... she kind of doesn’t understand people who do. it’s just too responsible, too difficult, too stressful.

✖ sympathetic / unsympathetic / in between

charlie has a lot of sympathy for other people - and that’s why her short-lived marriage with a con artist struggling to pay off his debt to the mafia was so tragic: she would’ve helped him if he asked, no questions asked.

✖ optimistic / pessimistic / in between

though she might appear to be an optimistic ray of sunshine - she’s actually very, very pessimistic. she actually did go through her fair share of feeling deeply let down by people in her life; so she tends to look at every relationship - and every possible scenario - without a glimmer of hope.

✖ hardworking / lazy / in between

you know how i said she inherited a fortune from her parents? 

yeah.

(to be fair, she did work hard for her degree, so it’s not like she doesn’t know how to put effort into things. she simply never really had to put that effort into anything, thanks to her financial stability.)

✖ cultured / uncultured / in between

despite appearing as a ditzy socialite only interested in fashion and gossip - charlie is actually very cultured. she knows quite a lot about many topics, from french cuisine to religious traditions of indigenous cultures; her parents made sure she knows as much about the world as possible.

the problem is - she’s painfully disinterested in most of those topics, instead pretending to stick to things she’s actually into: fashion, games, literature.

✖ loyal / disloyal / in between

all it takes to earn her loyalty is to give her affection and attention; and she’ll be yours forever. she’s also not above being loyal to two people whose causes clash; she can be loyal to her lover, who wishes to kill harvey dent - but also to her friend, who wants to see dent flourish.

✖ faithful / unfaithful / in between

she’s faithful, she’s monogamous, she’s not afraid to wrap herself around her partner in public to make sure everyone sees how much in a relationship they are with each other.

(she might sometimes fantasize about doing the deed with someone other than her partner though. like fish mooney, because have you SEEN fish mooney? charlie had.)

SEXUALITY & ROMANTIC INCLINATION

✖ SEXUALITY – heterosexual / homosexual / bisexual / asexual / pansexual / omnisexual / demisexual

charlie is bi, without any actual preference for her partner’s gender. fate (me, it was me, it wasn’t fate) caused her to mostly end up getting intimate with guys - but her first partner was a girl, she’s very into fish mooney and selina kyle and she did once have a massive crush on lex luthor’s sister.

✖ SEX – sex repulsed / sex neutral /sex favorable

charlie LOVES sex - but only with the right person. she’s definitely not against talking about it with people she’s only platonically involved with, and has nothing against having others go at it in appropriate semi-public spaces, assuming it doesn’t go too far.

but yeah. she likes sex. it makes her feel good, plain and simple - and she likes the sense of connection between her and her partner, as well as feeling comfortably vulnerable and excited.

✖ ROMANCE – romance repulsed / romance neutral / romance favorable

charlie really craves romance. she wants - needs - to both feel the butterflies in her stomach, and to be a source of someone else’s butterflies. she craves the casual intimacy, tender words, affectionate gestures... it’s all like water to her: an absolute necessity.

✖ SEXUALLY – sexually adventurous / sex experienced / naive / inexperienced / curious / uninterested

while she’s not actually very experienced - she has a lot of fantasies and ideas she’d love to try out one day. she’s also not averse to toys and porn; even if she tends to not watch a lot of porn, for various reasons.

(such as: various fundamental problems rooted in modern-day porn industry, like incessant violence, name-calling and really bad camera work.)

ABILITIES

✖ COMBAT SKILLS – excellent / good / moderate / poor / none

to be honest, she only knows Woman’s Self Defense 101: the heel-stomp, the deadly elbow, the nails.

oh, and she also knows how to stab people. and oz taught her to shoot.

✖ LITERACY SKILLS – excellent / good / moderate / poor / none

she has a master’s degree in english literature.

except we all know this doesn’t mean SHIT, since there are people with actual degrees claiming kylo ren is queer and femme coded out there, so: she’s actually damn good at reading and understanding things and picking up subtexts and nuanced aspects. her father was a college professor, remember? he was a good teacher, and she was a good student.

✖ ARTISTIC SKILLS – excellent / good / moderate / poor / none

she has, and i can’t emphasize this enough, negative artistic skills, both verbal and visual.

(”but she has a master’s degr-” have you ever read anyone’s master’s thesis? because i did.)

this is one of the core roots of her depressive thoughts also.

✖ TECHNICAL SKILLS – excellent / good / moderate / poor / none

give this girl a piece of paper and tell her to fold it in half and moments later the paper’s gonna be torn and on fire and she’s gonna be having a depressive meltdown.

she is... not very good at using her hands to make things happen. this is actually one of those few things her parents did wrong; they kind of overlooked this part of their kid’s development, and as a result - charlie is a clumsy mess.

and, by the gods, don’t give her a hammer. unless you really hate all of your kitchenware, that is.