#george hunt imagines
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starrvsn · 1 year ago
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౨ৎ ּ ׅ ۫ ✧ 。BOYS IN THE BOAT ˚₊ ꒰ PRETTY LIKE YOU !
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﹙ MOVIE/FANDOM ⠆THE BOYS IN THE BOAT ﹚
𝟒𝟏𝟏. some of the ficitonal characters from the boys in the boat, reactions to you giving them flowers :)
STAR LEFT A MESSAGE! hi friends! i know i haven't posted in a while but i just recently watched the boys in the boat and i absolutely loved it! especially the cast, full of fine talented men- so here's a little something about them with more to come! if you have any requests or ideas about them please let me know!
INCLUDES ⠆joe rantz, don hume, bobby mach, george hunt and chuck day (just some of the characters im partially attached to…)
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BOBBY MOCH ⠆
after their first win of the season, you greet bobby with a bouquet of flowers themed after the school's colors— immediately giving him praise and compliments about their win today. you knew he had a rough past season with the last crew, now seeing him with a new crew he trusted, something he was so passionate about. you were excited for him!
when he asks where this all came from, you shrug the gesture off as if it was nothing. stating that the flowers just reminded you of him and just had to give them to him. a wide smile tugs on his lips as he accepts them, his hand caressing yours gently. he appreciated them more than you knew. pulling you close, he presses a kiss on the crown of your head. caring less about his damp uniform or the loud crowd around you, just you and him.
“thank you lovely, these are beautiful.”
DON HUME ⠆
he's absolutely speechless, it wasn't everyday a man would recieve flowers and don didn't think he would be one of them. his eyebrows jump to his hairline when he sees you at the entrance of the shell house with a bouquet of flowers in your hands. his breath hitches as he asks where you got them from and you reply kindly that they're for him, giving him a sweet smile which he returns. you wanted to congratulate him for making the team, it wasn't easy and all the effort he put in finally paid off. a faint blush falls on his cheeks as he takes them, a beautiful arrangement of daisy's and poppy's held by a piece of brown parchment. he takes your hand tugging you into a hug, squeezing you appreciatively. there weren’t enough words to describe how much he loved them,
"this bouquet might be just as pretty as you." now you blush, playfully slapping this arm as you continue to hold him close. he wanted to keep them alive for as long as he can and maybe get you a bouquet in return. later (few months) when he sneaks you into the dorms he see's the bouquet in a glass still thriving well, making your heart swell.
JOE RANTZ ⠆
he's gotten several bouquets from several girls after winning gold in the olympics. he's received a many of gifts from different people but none of them felt as special as yours. when he saw you for the first time since their win in germany, you had planned to go out on a date to celebrate so when he comes to pick you up with his own bouquet in hand. imagine his surprise and delight when he sees you walk out of the building with your own bouquet in hand. he lets out a soft laugh in disbelief watching as you. a proud smile on your lips, almost skipping towards him.
"ever so original rantz?" you jokingly say, fiddling with the fabric of your dress. holding the flowers to him— they're almost identical to his except, he has your favorite flower in the bunch making your heart swell.
"i didn't know you were gonna get me flowers." he replies, ever so charming smile gracing his lips. you tell him you wanted to surprise him— a token of your appreciation for all that he's done, all the hard work he and all the other boys put in. he thanks you greatly, exchanging your bouquets. he presses a sweet, chaste kiss on your lips before interlocking hands and walking to your date destination.
GEORGE HUNT ⠆
george didn't really take mind to trivial things of interest like that, what his favorite flower was but he made a great deal to what yours were and he never missed the chance to give you flowers when he could— after any occasion he would give them to you. if you passed your exam or got into a fight, he'd get flowers to make it up to you. he didn't really expect to get his own flowers, as it really wasn't a thing.
so one day when practice was particularly grueling and draining, the last thing your boyfriend had expected was seeing you; with a small bouquet of flowers in your hands waiting outside the crews dorm. you were speaking with roger, keeping you company. "who are those for?" george announces himself, now standing between the two of you. you chuckle bidding roger goodbye as he leaves, now alone with your boyfriend— a timid smile forming.
"pretty flowers for a pretty boy." you proclaimed, holding out the bouquet to him. he huffs a laugh taking them carefully, admiring them. he raises a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, cradling your cheek— caressing it gently.
"these a perfect darling, just like you."
CHUCK DAY ⠆
“a new admirer giving you flowers? giving me a run for my money?” chuck eyes the bouquet in your hands, noticing that there was none of your favorite flowers in them— what kind of admirer were they? you let out a soft giggle that sounds like music to his ears. he won't lie, a slight pang of jealousy hits him at the thought of another man giving you flowers but he'd ask you another day.
"no silly, they're for you." you reply, standing from the bench to give them to him. he lets out a small breath of relief, practically melting at the gesture. he takes a hand that was stuffed in his pocket to take the flowers from you, eyeing them carefully. you tell him that some of the flowers had meaning— like the red tulips and daisy's meaning love. his gaze softens as you continue to explain, a loving smile gracing his lips as he admires your face and the bouquet. lovingly, he plucks a flower from the bouquet and tucks it behind your ear
"you're so sweet you know that." his hand running down your arm, grasping your hand gently rubbing your knuckles. you almost swoon— tilting your head in admiration "well you deserve the best, i hope you know." he knows, with you around it's hard to forget.
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ownership of starrvsn. please do not repost, modify or translate.
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shelbgrey · 2 years ago
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My MasterList of Stories
Master List part 2
~request are open
Julie and the phantoms
The Sopranos
Cobra Kai (adult Johnny and Hawk only)
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Codes:
Smut=❤️‍🔥 Fluff=💕 Angst=💔 Funny=💖 Horror=🫀
🔬Bones💀
Dr. Lance Sweets:
Smut Alphabet❤️‍🔥
Caught in the act ❤️‍🔥
Dating Lance Sweets HC💕❤️‍🔥
Adventures in babysitting💕
You belong with me💕
Lance Sweets as a Dad headcanons💕
Dream Warriors💔🫀
Bones Halloween Special🫀💖
Code baby Part 1 💕
Let me take your pain away💕💔
Dr. Jack Hodgins:
Can't buy me love💔💕
Jack Hodgins Having a little sister💕
What's it gonna take to get you out of his lab?❤️‍🔥
Agent Seeley Booth:
Dating Seeley Booth Headcanons💕❤️‍🔥
Being Seeley Booth's Best friend HCs💕
Friends to Lovers Headcanons💕
The day we met💕
In the name of love💕
Agent James Aubrey:
Falling in love with James Aubrey after losing Lance 💔💕
Falling in love with James Aubrey after losing Lance Sweets part 2💕❤️‍🔥
Smut Alphabet❤️‍🔥
Unspoken desire❤️‍🔥
Dr. Wendell Bray:
Witchy Squintern HCs💕
Dr. Camille Saroyan:
who broke the coffee pot?💖
The Squinterns:
Adventures in babysitting💕
Being Hodgins sister and being a goth Squintern💕
Dr. Zack Addy:
I've got your back💕
Who's got him smiling like that?💕
❤️‍🩹Grey's Anatomy🩺
Dr. Derek Shephard:
Halloween special💖🫀
Injured💔
The Ballad of Jayne💔
Stuck in the middle💔💕
Stitches💕
This is Why I Don't Go To The Gym💕
Baby on the brain💕
Dating Derek after he broke up with Meredith💕
Love at first sight💕
Dr. Mark Sloan:
November Rain💔
Faithfully💔💕
We are family💕
Christmas Special💖
Dr. Owen Hunt:
Trauma 101💖
Dr. Jackson Avery:
Love Story💔💕
Dr. Alex Karev:
Heaven💔
Dr. Miranda Bailey:
Your my favorite💕
Dr. Nick Marsh:
Secrets out💕
🗡️Once upon a time🍎
August W. Booth:
Hidden secrets❤️‍🔥💕💔
Killian Jones:
Smut fic with Killan Jones❤️‍🔥
Prince James:
Hysteria💔💕
🩸Twilight🌲
Cullen family:
Fire safty💖
Going to the zoo💖
Cats in the cradle💕
Being Carlisle and Esme's daughter and having the Volturi wrap around your finger. 💖💕
Cullens:
Emmett McCarthy Cullen:
Next to me series💖💔💕❤️‍🔥
Forever now💕
Being Emmett and Rose's daughter HCs💕
Carlisle Cullen:
Being Carlisle and Esme's youngest daughter HC💕
Carlisle as your husband HCs💕
Jasper Whitlock Hale:
Jasper dating Bella's sister HCs💕
Edward Anthony Mason Cullen:
Dating Edward Cullen HCs💕
Crushing on Edward Cullen HCs💕
Rosalie Lillian Hale:
Being Emmett and Rose's daughter HCs💕
Denalis:
Eleazar Denali:
Glory of love series ❤️‍🔥💕💔💖
Dating Eleazar HCs❤️‍🔥💕
Garrett:
Voice of an Angel💔💕
Being Carlisle and Esme's youngest daughter and dating Garrett HCs💕
Wolf pack:
Seth Clearwater:
Perfect 💕
Volturi:
The Volturi:
Being Carlisle and Esme's youngest daughter and having the Volturi wrap around your finger💕
🧫Ghostbusters👻
Peter Venkman:
When unspoken rules are broken💔💕
Dr. Egon Spengler:
Hold on, I love you💔
Two Nerds falling in love headcanons💕
Ray stantz:
Dr. Jelousey❤️‍🔥
Something strange💕💔
🦁🐍Harry Potter🐦‍⬛🦡
Draco Malfoy:
Say Something💔
Dance the night away💕
Just keeping an eye out💕
The truth doesn't always hurt💔💕
George Weasley:
Welocm to Gryffindor💔💕
You belong with me - part 1💔💕
Fred Weasley:
Being a Potter twin and falling for Fred💕
Neville Longbottom:
Your Breaking My Heart💔
Weasley family:
Being adopted by the Weasleys💕
⚔️Supernatural🌘
Gabriel "the Trickster":
Hyper girl💕
The Winchester and the Trickster💕
Love of a lifetime💔
Dean winchester:
Dating Dean Winchester Headcanons💕❤️‍🔥
Castiel:
Being in a love triangle with Dean and Cas💕💔
🎶Elvis Presley🎸
Austin!Elvis Presley:
Love me tender💔💕
💥Marvel🦸
Scott "Cyclops" Summers:
Dating Scott Summers💕❤️‍🔥
A not so White Wedding💕
Clint "Hawkeye" Barton:
Secrets out💖
Whatever it takes💔💕
Tony "Iron man" Stark:
All of me💔💕
Bucky "winter soldier" Barnes:
Treat you better💔💕
Howard Stark:
Time In A Bottle💕
Dr. Stephen Strange:
I won't say I'm in love💔💕
Avengers:
Ohana means family💕
Six avengers and a baby💔💕
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wordsarelife · 2 years ago
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like lockwood, best friends to lovers
—you belong with me
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pairing: anthony lockwood x fem!reader
summary: reader has to flirt to finish a mission. much to the dismay of Lockwood she is far too good at it
warnings: flirting with sexual themes??
shortages: f/n — fake name
note: okay sorry this got a bit out of hand and it didn't really end where or how I intended it to. let me know if y'all would be interested in a part two!!!
part two: that's the way I loved you
you walked down the steps. the red dress you were wearing fluttering around the middle of your thighs. your hair was styled, Lucy had curled it after she had done your make—up
“test, test” you whispered into the little microphone you were wearing in your hair, so it would stay hidden
“we can hear you, y/n” George answered and you could swear he was rolling his eyes “we tested it a minute ago”
“sorry” you muttered
“leave her be” Lockwood said to George. he would always come to your rescue, even if you didn’t ask him to. that’s why he was your best—friend after all.
you breathed in deeply and snatched a glass of champagne from one of the waiters trays, gulping it down in one shot. you checked your lipstick in the little mirror Lucy had packed into the small bag you were wearing, before your hands found your waist and pulled down the dress, so your cleavage was showing
you stepped forward and sat down at the bar, right next to the guy you were targeting
his hair was black and he was actually attractive if it weren’t for the people he had killed to create sources. it was just your task to find one of them though, or better put: to occupy the man until Lucy had found the source.
“hi” you smiled, turning your head and also your chest, so the man could get a good look at it
“hello” he grinned and you swore you could’ve thrown up then and there. “would you like a drink?”
“sure” you outstretched your hand “i’m f/n”
he took your hand and shook it “Sebastian, and i’m glad to share a drink with a beautiful woman” he slid the drink the bartender had just supplied, towards you
“thank you” you smiled, raising the glass and taking a sip from the alcohol
“so, what brings you here?” Sebastian asked, while his hand found its way to rest on your knee
you could hear Lockwood and George drag in the air through the mouths loudly, like Sebastian had just touched their knee
you tried not to react to their sudden sounds, but Sebastian was good at picking up your emotions it seemed.
"everything alright?" he asked, leaning even closer
"yeah" you smiled, trying to fight the uneasiness you felt because of his proximity "I'm not used to the company of handsome looking men" you tried to save the conversation and Sebastian seemed to like your compliment
you ignored Lockwood's scoff while you watched Sebastian lean back in comfort "well" he smiled smugly "I'm all yours, beautiful"
you could hear Lockwood and George gag at the same time, you would have liked to do the same, but Sebastian was still looking at you. "what a lucky girl I am" you laughed instead and patted the shoulder of the male, who, again, smiled smugly at the gesture
his hand wandered a bit higher on your leg and you could feel it close to the hem of your dress. you threw a panicked gaze in Lockwood's direction. discreet enough that Sebastian wouldn't notice. it seemed like he was occupied anyway, with watching his own hand make its way up your leg. with every inch it felt like you couldn't breathe
you just hoped that Lucy would be quick.
"what brings you here, pretty lady?" Sebastian repeated his question from earlier, to which he had never received an answer
"work" you smiled nonchalantly, trying to keep your composure. his hand was resting for now, that was good.
"what do you do?" he smiled
"I've worked for a few agency's for a while (truth) but after I lost my talents I settled down and changed to the office area of fittes (lie)"
you pretty much still had your talents, you were only seventeen, but now you where trying to look much older. this was achieved by the make up and the obnoxious and uncomfortable push-up bra you were wearing. it felt like they would fall out of your dress any moment. Sebastian seemed to like the sight of your décolleté a bit too much, you noticed, while his eyes wandered down to your breasts while you were talking. you would have liked to slap his head and tell him how impolite it was to directly look there, not only under normal circumstances but while you were talking as well.
you weren't used to that kind of disgusting men behaviour, even if you had lived with two of them for the most of your life.
you could stand in front of George and Lockwood just wearing a bra and they wouldn't dare and look. Maybe because George was like a brother to you and Lockwood- Lockwood was a gentleman
your thoughts wandered away from the conversation at hand and back to the brunette agency head, who alway managed to make you feel at ease. even on mission like this one, he was looking at you across the room and anytime you would catch his eyes, your breath would calm and you would feel safe.
also, he had promised you to come and save you if things went too far. he was your best-friend after all.
your eyes wandered back to meet Sebastians and you remembered what Lucy had told you. if you feel uncomfortable just put yourself back in control. so you leaned forward, so he could get an even better look at your cleavage. he stammered while talking but quickly continued normally. you took his hand from off your leg and interlaced your fingers. he wouldn't notice that you were actually trying to keep him away, he would see that gesture as you falling into his trap. that was what men always thought.
now that you were back in control, your mind felt at ease and you felt less like a little girl that needed to be saved. now you were a woman. and he, he was still a man, luckily.
"I travel a lot" you answered the question he had just asked you about your work "I check out different agencies all around the world. make sure that they are working right. we wouldn't want any rules broken, would we?" you fluttered your eyelids and watched in satisfaction what effect that last purposely chosen sentence had on him
"n-no" he stammered
"are you alright?" you asked pitiful
"yes" Sebastian tried to gain back his composure and actually succeeded "but I must say, you're the most breath taking woman I've ever seen. everything is where it should be"
"oh my god" George muttered loudly, disgusted by the objectifying words the older man had just said about his friend
"I'm stopping this" you watched as Lockwood stood up from his place and George tried to hold him back. you knew that it was on you to prevent him from cancelling the mission. you send him a look that told him to sit down again and he eventually listened and scoffed
"thank you, Sebastian" you leaned closer, now speaking into his ear "you look more than daring yourself, if i'm allowed to say so"
"you are" he nodded leaning forward
now the moment had come. he would kiss you. you weren't sure if it would come to that point, but you had sworn to do it if it needed to be done to keep the mission from failing. a second before your lips connected, Sebastian was drown back
drawn back by no other than Lockwood. you were a second away from screaming at the boy, when you noticed Lucy across the hall. she had done it. the mission was completed. you no longer had to flirt with that scumbag.
"oh, Tony" you muttered in surprise, still playing a role
that was what you guys had agreed on. the moment Lucy would come back, Lockwood or George would interrupt the conversation and act like they were an old friend of yours who was in town coincidentally and had seen you sitting at the bar.
"f/n" Lockwood muttered angrily and you raised your brows, watching his expression "I'm sorry" he said turning towards Sebastian and outstretching his hand "Anthony Lockwood"
Sebastian took the hand he was being offered and shook it "Sebastian Keen" he said, still confused to what was happening
"nice to meet you. can I ask what you were doing with my girlfriend?"
"your what?" Sebastian asked loudly and you had almost joined in. his eyes wandered to you and you tried to stay in role, even if Lockwood had just completely changed your script
"my girlfriend" Lockwood repeated unnecessarily "were you bothering her? because it looked like that"
"no, she wanted-"
"yes, Tony" you interrupted, opening your eyes wider and letting them fill with tears "it's alright, dear" Lockwood outstretched his hand and helped you to stand up "stay away from her, you hear me?" he said threateningly
"I didn't harass her or anything. she's lying" Sebastian said angrily
Lockwood shook his head "doesn't matter, just don't ever talk to her again, alright?"
"sure" Sebastian shrugged his shoulders "she isn't that pretty anyways"
Lockwood interlaced your hands and walked you away from the man "she obviously is" he muttered to himself, but you heard him and had to smile at his words "you're pretty too" Lockwood turned his head to you while walking and smiled at your relieved expression
"I'm glad you didn't have to kiss him"
"I'm glad too"
"well, luckily your boyfriend was just around the corner" he smiled but you could see the sincerity in his eyes
you nodded, eyes glistening happily "yes, luckily he was"
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littlefankingdom · 3 months ago
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~ Batman: Knightfall
Just, Bruce beating some lords with his cane to defend an activist (? Would that be the right word to use?) who ruins their hobbies because fuck the aristocracy. And yeah, it's Bruce in disguise. And look at that, the activist is the Hood. There's a reason I called him a punk, he's always fighting against the system, even without the mask.
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hamilando · 7 months ago
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ੈ✩ don’t cry at my wedding (smau) ੈ✩
pairing : charles leclerc x russell !fem reader
summary : the siblings realising that the sister has grown a little to much
tw : emotional, friends being chaotic!
fc: Martha Hunt *she is so pretty-*
a/n : thank you so much to @xshazxx for suggesting this ! lysm 🫶🏻
·:。・゚゚・ ✩ ・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・ ・゚·:。・゚゚・ ✩ ・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・・゚·:。・゚゚・ ✩ ・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚
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liked by georgerussell, lewishamilton, mercedesamgf1, charlesleclerc and 67,937 others
mercedesomg Blondes do it better 🫷🏻
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georgerussell do what better little miss sister ?
mercedesomg anything you would like to imagine 😗
user1 DO IT BETTER GURL 💪🏻
user2 blonde is really your color 📷
lewishamilton the color suits you !!
mercedesomg my favourite brother 🫶🏻
georgerussell EXCUSE ME WHAT !?
maxverstappen1 george is currently screaming gibberish in the lounge
carmenmmundt dw, omw to pick him up 🏃🏻‍♀️‍➡️
user3 the spain air hitting ✨
user4 it hit ferrari a little to hard
lilyhye I told you blonde was your color ✊🏻
mercedesomg well, thank you lily AND ALEX
alex.albon thank god you didn’t forget 👀
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liked by mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton, georgerussell and 94,237 others
mercedesomg running a mercedes powered account 🫶🏻💪🏻
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lewishamilton you are disowned from the position of my sister
mercedesomg NO, lewis appreciation post coming up ! 🫶🏻
user1 MY EYES
user2 MY HEART
user3 MY BRAIN
user4 i love how she posted thirsty pics of the russells and a meme of lewis
mercedesamgf1 we stan this user 🙌🏻
liked by mercedesomg
georgerussell are you alright ? do you need to go the hospital ? you posting a good pic of me !?
mercedesomg shut up and accept it 🫷🏻
georgerussell also, why would you post a half naked picture of yourself !?
mercedesomg you are literally naked showing your tatas
user5 the russell siblings are literally kids every parent would dread to have
user6 imagine them fighting
landonorris you don’t want to see that
user6 LANDO REPLIED TO ME !?
lilihye i am blinded by the watermelons on my screen
mercedesomg LILY, BABE WE ARE IN PUBLIC, DON’T EXPOSE US
lilihye oh sheesh 🫢
user7 lili is us ✊🏻
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liked by user1, user2, user3 and 178,937 others
f1wags The Russell sister is engaged !? or is it just part of her look !?
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user1 now even wearing a ring is dangerous 💀
user2 bro it’s just a ring
user3 SHE IS ENAGAGED!?
user4 it’s literally just a ring, her stylist must have made her wear it !
user5 if she is engaged, i am stanning haas 🫷🏻
user6 you will regret it brother
user7 do we have any candidates for her beau ?
user8 Lewis ?
user9 you did not-
user10 oh lord, if she saw this
user11 LEWIS IS LITERALLY LIKE A BROTHER TO HER !
user12 Lili?
user13 possible 🫣
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liked by charlesleclerc, lewishamilton, georgerussell and 357,285 others
mercedesomg I look better in red 🙌🏻🌶️
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user1 I TOLD YOU Y’ALL ITS LEWIS
user2 mate 💀
user3 brother 💀
georgerussell did you just leave me and lewis for that short ass kid ?
mercedesamgf1 and toto
mercedesomg wait till you all see the username change 😗
user4 HOLD UP! WE MISSED A WHOLE CENTURY MISS !?
user5 SHE IS ENGAGED !? OH LORD, I have to stan haas !?
scuderiaferrari welcome to the family ❤️
mercedesomg aww, thank you 🥹
carlossainz55 it really does suit you!
liked by mercedesomg
user6 what is the username change !?
user7 END OF AN ERA 😭
landonorris charles, you did good
user8 for what 👀
user9 oh hell nah…
charlesleclerc i would prefer you looking nude ☺️
georgerussell MATE THATS MY SISTER
lewishamilton you better behave with her, future team-mate
charlesleclerc SHE IS MY FIANCE
charlesleclerc i see you lewis 👀
mercedesomg and i see you mr. leclerc, you are sleeping on couch
charlesleclerc WHY !?
lilihye bad choice charles
maxverstappen bad choice charles
landonorris bad choice charles
pieregasly bad choice charles
mercedesomg you spoiled my hard launch 😗
user10 SHE AND CHARLES !?
user11 talk about plot twist
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liked by charlesleclerc, georgerussell, lewishamilton and 567,379 others
y/nleclerc It’s Mrs. Leclerc 🫷🏻
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georgerussell * it will be
georgerussell Y/N THE USERNAME STILL HAS SOME TIME
charlesleclerc not for long 🤷🏻‍♂️
georgerussell she is still a russell 💪🏻
charlesleclerc do i smell jealousy ?
landonorris he is sulking about the idea of y/n getting married
maxverstappen1 now lando mentioned it, he is crying
lewishamilton now y/n is calling him and he is trying to act all ok
mercedesomg and now he is crying in front of me
georgerussell you all didn’t have to expose me like that
lilihye so happy for you both !!!
liked by y/nleclerc
arthurleclerc welcome to the fam sis!
liked by y/nleclerc
lewishamilton you grew up so fast, even i have tears in my eyes
y/nleclerc i will always be your little kid ❤️
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liked by lewishamilton, charlesleclerc, georgerussell snd 764,928 others
y/nleclerc To the brother I got from my mother and the one I got from Toto ( quite literally ), just so you both know, I will always be your little kid. Thank you for being there for me and giving me the reassurance that despite the numerous pranks snd fights, I can always to come to you both with crying eyes or my yapping mouth and you would always welcome me with a warm hug. Georgey, I grew up with you and I know I never say this much but I love you very much and am very proud of you, from your first podium in karting to your first win F1. Lewis, I first met you in 2019 when I was just a teenager and the first thing I asked you was for the picture ( I was meeting a f1 world champion, ofc I had to get a picture) but I didn’t know then that half my gallery would be filled with our pictures. Thank you for always being there like a brother, like a friend, like a mentor and like a punching bag ( that’s a story for another day ).
To both my brothers, I love you and just changing my surname won’t take me away from you ❤️ and you both know Charles pretty well, so if we have a fight, you both surely know who to run over 🫶🏻
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good-to-drive · 1 year ago
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Well, we made it to the Sierra Nevadas, but things are looking grim. The actual Donner-Reed Party was here by November, which wasn't necessarily a death sentence, but an early snow delayed them by several weeks. With all the commotion, we didn’t get here until January and we’re currently low on food, completely out of meat, and snowbound.
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John went hunting and heroically managed to bag 3 pounds of game, averaging 0.15 lbs of game per bullet. For context, we started this trip with four hundred pounds of bacon alone.
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Unfortunately, he was also heroically mauled by a mountain lion. In lieu of salt to rub into the wound (?!) I treated it with an antiseptic.
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Meanwhile, Paul has caught 234 pounds of fish without incident. Truly, John is the alpha male of The Beatles.
SO I managed to get the iconic millennial PC game The Oregon Trail 5 (a la “you have died of dysentery”) working on my laptop, and for obvious reasons* I'm fascinated by both The Beatles and the Donner Party so naturally I've decided to take The Beatles on the Donner Party route. *I'm a big fan of suffering.
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They're leaving Independence, Missouri in June 1846 just like the Donner-Reed Party, and are headed for what is now California. John is in charge (I imagine he wouldn't go otherwise) so if/when he dies it's game over.
(btw I don't want to clog up anyone's dashboard so you might want to block the tag 'the beatles oregon trail 5' bc I'll tag everything with that.)
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creature-wizard · 1 year ago
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Is the spiritual person a conspiracy theorist? A list of red flags
They talk about a shadowy group of people supposedly manipulating everything behind the scenes. They might refer to them by terms such as globalists, bankers, international bankers, secret rulers of the world, the elite, the cabal, Kabbalists, Talmudists, satanists, satanic pedophiles, pedophiles, generational satanists, satanic bloodlines, the Illuminati, the Babylonian Brotherhood, lizard people, Reptilians, Orions, regressives, regressive entities, Khazarians, Marxists, cultural Marxists, or leftists. Sometimes, very rarely, they'll just come right out and say "Jews."
They claim that the conspiracy has been working to conceal historical and spiritual truths from humanity.
They claim that the conspiracy uses stuff like food, entertainment, and medicine to control the masses. For example, "additives in food suppress our psychic abilities" or "Hollywood films contain subliminal messages" or "COVID vaccines were actually created to alter your DNA to make you more docile."
Also, claims that the conspiracy controls people via spiritual or technological implants, 5G, or alter programming, with or without explicit mention of Project Monarch (a conspiracy theory promoted by far right cranks such as Mark Philips and Fritz Springmeier, who used hypnosis to respectively convince Cathy O'Brien and Cisco Wheeler that they'd been put under mind control by a global satanic conspiracy).
They claim that this conspiracy is controlling the media, has fingers in every institution they disagree with, and is generally behind everything they disagree with. (EG, the conspiracy created the Catholic Church; that other New Ager they disagree with is actually controlled opposition, etc.)
They claim that the conspiracy is trying to keep people in fear.
They claim that the conspiracy harvests something from people. Blood and adrenochrome are common ones. Loosh is somewhat less common. Expect to see something else pop up eventually.
They claim that the conspiracy practices genetic engineering; EG, creating animal/human hybrids, using vaccines to genetically sever people's connection to God, etc.
They claim that true spiritual wisdom can be traced back to places like Atlantis, Lemuria, or Mu.
They claim that world governments have secretly been in contact with extraterrestrials for years.
They appeal to known frauds and cranks, including but not limited to Erich Von Daniken, Zechariah Sitchin, David Icke, David Wilcock, Graham Hancock, Jaime Maussan, Bob Lazar, Steven Greer, Richard C. Hoagland, Fritz Springmeier, and Drunvalo Melchizedek.
Appeals to forged documents, including but not limited to the alleged diary of Admiral Richard Byrd, The Emerald Tablets of Thoth the Atlantean, and The Urantia Book.
Appeals to channeled information, such as that provided by Edgar Cayce, Carla Rueckert, or George Van Tassel.
"But all of this has to come from somewhere, doesn't it?"
Oh, it all comes from somewhere, all right, but the where isn't what most people imagine.
A lot of the stuff above is just a modern spin on the content of The Protocols of the Learned Elders of Zion, a Russian hoax created to justify violence against Russian Jews. The Protocols itself was plagiarized from a political satire and incorporated a lot of the post-French Revolution conspiracy theories about Freemasons and Jews being behind the French Revolution. I wrote a summary of the conspiracy tropes found in The Protocols over here.
The stuff about Satanic sacrifices and the consumption of blood, adrenochrome, loosh, or whatever are simply just variations on blood libel, an antisemitic conspiracy theory that claims Jews practice ritual cannibalism. Blood libel can be traced back to ancient Greece. (With the Greek version, I really can't help but notice the similarity to modern urban legends of gangsters kidnapping random people for initiation rituals.)
Many of these tropes can also be linked back to the early modern witch hunts. It was believed that witches sacrificed babies to Satan, practiced cannibalism, and put people under mind control by way of diabolical magic. It was also believed that some witches didn't even know they were witches; they'd go off to attend the Devil's Sabbath at night and come back in the morning without remembering a thing. In the late 20th century, this witch hunter's canard would be reinvented as the alter programming conspiracy theory when media such as the 1973 book Sibyl and its 1976 television adaptation put DID (note: the woman who inspired Sibyl did not have DID) into the public consciousness. For a more complete list of witch panic and blood libel tropes, I wrote a list over here.
Lemuria was a hypothetical landmass proposed to explain the presence of lemur fossils in Madagascar and India while being absent in continental Africa and the rest of Asia, because if lemurs evolved naturally, they wouldn't be in two separate places with no connection to each other. The discovery that India and Madagascar were once connected not only made the hypothesis obsolete, it precludes the existence of Lemuria.
The whole notion of Mu began with a horrendous mistranslation of the Troano manuscript. A man named Augustus Le Plongeon would link the mistranslation with the story of Atlantis, and use it to claim that Atlantis actually existed in the Americas. (For Plongeon, Mu and Atlantis were one and the same.) And then other people (like James Churchward) got their hands on the whole Mu thing, and put their own spins on it, and the rest is history.
Le Plongeon's ideas influence modern Atlantis mythology today; EG, the idea that it was in the Americas. Another guy who helped shape the modern Atlantis myth was Ignatius L. Donnelly, an American politician. Dude claimed that Atlanteans spread their oh-so-superior culture far and wide. He also claimed that Atlantis was the home of the Aryan people, because of course he did.
The idea that all of the world's wisdom can be traced back to Thoth/Hermes goes back to Hermeticism, a product of Greco-Egyptian syncretism. Hermeticism produced a fascinating body of mythology and an interesting way to consider the divine and its role in shaping human history, but that doesn't mean it was right. And the Emerald Tablets of Thoth the Atlantean is a modern text that has fuck-all to do with ancient Hermeticism and more to do with HP Lovecraft.
This idea that the conspiracy uses pharmaceutical drugs and vaccines for evil also has roots in Nazi Germany. The Nazi government, wanting to reserve real medicine for their soldiers, told the general populace that said medicine was the product of evil Jewish science and prescribed alternative healing modalities instead. (Said alternative healing modalities did not particularly work.) It also echoes the old conspiracy theories about Jews spreading the Black Death by poisoning wells.
The idea that the conspiracy uses genetic manipulation to create subhuman beings or sever humanity from the divine is a permutation of the Nazi conspiracy theory that Jews are trying to destroy the white race through race mixing. The idea of evil reptilian DNA goes back to the ancient serpent seed doctrine, which is indeed old, but no less pure hateful nonsense for it.
"But there's got to be somebody up to something rotten out there!"
Oh sure. But these people aren't skulking around in the shadows. They're acting pretty openly.
The Heritage Foundation has been working to push this country into Christofascism since the early 1970's. They're the ones responsible for the rise of the Moral Majority and the election of Ronald Reagan. They're also the ones behind Project 2025, which intends to bring us deeper into Christofascism. (Among many other horrible things, they intend to outlaw trans people as "pornographic.")
The Seven Mountains Mandate is another movement pushing for Christofascism. They intend to seize the "seven spheres" of society, which include education, religion, family, business, government/military, arts/entertainment, and media.
There's also the ghoulish American Evangelicals who support Israel because they think that current events are going to bring about the Second Coming of Jesus and cement the formation of a global Christofascist empire. Don't let their apparent support of Jews fool you - they believe that the good Jews will become Christians and the bad ones will go to hell.
All of these people are working toward monstrously horrific goals, but none of them are part of an ancient megaconspiracy. In fact, these are the kinds of people pushing the myth of the ancient megaconspiracy. From the witch hunts to Nazi Germany to the American Evangelical movement, if history has taught us anything, the people pushing the conspiracy theories are always the bad guys.
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hollowed-theory-hall · 10 months ago
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Sirius Black was the best adult in Harry's life and I'm forever salty that we didn't get to see more of him
So, I love Sirius Black. He's a complex and interesting character that I love dearly. He's handsome, smart, brave, not as reckless as some fanon make him out to be, and above all else, he tried his best to be a good godfather to Harry.
I truly believe Sirius could've been an amazing father figure (more than he already was) to Harry if given the proper chance. And he's a much better parent to Harry than Arthur and Molly Weasley.
Here are some quotes along with my ramblings to prove it.
So, what I'm going to cover here are some quotes from Sirius and Harry that show their dynamic and how much Sirius cared and tried to be there for Harry. Also, I think Molyl and Hermione are wrong about Sirius seeing Harry as a James replacement.
“He came back to the country just because my scar twinged. He’ll probably come bursting right into the castle if I tell him someone’s entered me in the Triwizard Tournament —”
(GoF, page 290)
Harry wrote to Sirius at the beginning of GoF about his dream with Voldemort and his scar's reaction to it. Sirius left everything immediately to return to Britain — a place where he is hunted down and is a wanted man. All because he wants to be close to Harry, so he can spring up to protect him if the need arises.
Harry is correct in his assessment here.
“Poor old Snuffles,” said Ron, breathing deeply. “He must really like you, Harry. . . . Imagine having to live off rats.”
(GoF, page 534)
Ron is absolutely right. Sirius loves Harry more than pretty much anything. He would and does go incredibly far for Harry. I don't think Molly and Hermione are right about how Sirius sees Harry as James. He just doesn't.
He doesn't treat Harry as an equal to him, but as someone he needs to protect. Someone he is responsible to protect.
He stays around Hogwarts, eating rats in GoF so he can better protect Harry. He wouldn't have done the same with James because he treated James as an equal, not as someone he needed to protect.
“It’s not my fault you haven’t been told what the Order’s doing,” said Sirius calmly. “That’s your parents’ decision. Harry, on the other hand —” “It’s not down to you to decide what’s good for Harry!” said Mrs. Weasley sharply. Her normally kindly face looked dangerous. “You haven’t forgotten what Dumbledore said, I suppose?” “Which bit?” Sirius asked politely, but with an air as though readying himself for a fight. “The bit about not telling Harry more than he needs to know,” said Mrs. Weasley, placing a heavy emphasis on the last three words. Ron, Hermione, Fred, and George’s heads turned from Sirius to Mrs. Weasley as though following a tennis rally. Ginny was kneeling amid a pile of abandoned butterbeer corks, watching the conversation with her mouth slightly open. Lupin’s eyes were fixed on Sirius. “I don’t intend to tell him more than he needs to know, Molly,” said Sirius. “But as he was the one who saw Voldemort come back” (again, there was a collective shudder around the table at the name), “he has more right than most to —” “He’s not a member of the Order of the Phoenix!” said Mrs. Weasley. “He’s only fifteen and —” “— and he’s dealt with as much as most in the Order,” said Sirius, “and more than some —” “No one’s denying what he’s done!” said Mrs. Weasley, her voice rising, her fists trembling on the arms of her chair. “But he’s still —” “He’s not a child!” said Sirius impatiently. “He’s not an adult either!” said Mrs. Weasley, the color rising in her cheeks. “He’s not James, Sirius!” “I’m perfectly clear who he is, thanks, Molly,” said Sirius coldly. “I’m not sure you are!” said Mrs. Weasley. “Sometimes, the way you talk about him, it’s as though you think you’ve got your best friend back!” “What’s wrong with that?” said Harry. “What’s wrong, Harry, is that you are not your father, however much you might look like him!” said Mrs. Weasley, her eyes still boring into Sirius. “You are still at school and adults responsible for you should not forget it!” “Meaning I’m an irresponsible godfather?” demanded Sirius, his voice rising. “Meaning you’ve been known to act rashly, Sirius, which is why Dumbledore keeps reminding you to stay at home and —” “We’ll leave my instructions from Dumbledore out of this, if you please!” said Sirius loudly.
(OotP, page 88-89)
This above quote is a long one, but I love it. I mean, this shows a big contrast between Sirius' approach to parenting and Molly's. Sirius, while not seeing Harry as his equal, does see Harry as a capable wizard who deserves to know the full picture. Sirius knows Harry would be in more danger when ignorant and wants him as safe as possible. He thinks Harry deserves to know things that pertain to him, and I have to agree with him here. Keeping Harry in the dark is what eventually cost Sirius his life.
Molly, on the other hand, is intent on keeping Harry, Hermione, and her kids ignorant. She has the same intention as Sirius: to keep them safe. But she tries to keep them safe emotionally, even when this ignorance can and does place them in physical harm's way.
And Sirius is right. Harry is capable. And a 15-year-old shouldn't be treated the same as an 11-year-old child. And let's be real, Harry was never a regular child with how he grew up, and I think Sirius sees his maturity and treats him accordingly. Sirius actually gave Harry advice to not approach danger in GOF and Harry listened to him because Sirius treated him with respect, which works best with Harry who never really had parental figures.
“I don’t know,” said Sirius slowly, “I just don’t know . . . Karkaroff doesn’t strike me as the type who’d go back to Voldemort unless he knew Voldemort was powerful enough to protect him. But whoever put your name in that goblet did it for a reason, and I can’t help thinking the tournament would be a very good way to attack you and make it look like an accident.”
(GoF, page 334)
This is an expert from the Fireplace conversation Haryr had with Sirius before the first task. Sirius shares his theories with Harry because he needs him to know who to watch out for. Because everything he does is to keep Harry safe. And this is the same approach Sirius wishes he could take with Harry in OOTP. Because he knows it works. Keeping Harry informed means that if he does put himself in danger, at least he would inform Sirius about it; Which would allow Sirius to protect him.
I'm not copying all of them, but Sirius' letters to Harry throughout GOF are so caring and sweet. Harry deserved to have more of his godfather in his life:
Nice try, Harry. I'm back in the country and well hidden. I want you to keep me posted on everything that's going on at Hogwarts. Don't use Hedwig, keep changing owls, and don't worry about me, just watch out for yourself. Don't forget what I said about your scar. Sirius
(Gof, page 240)
This treatment encourages Harry to actually share everything with him and ask him for advice. Something he doesn't do with Dumbledore ever. (Harry actually doesn't like or trust Dumbledore all that much until book 6, it's usually Hermione who trusts Dumbledore fully)
“Sirius — how’re you doing?” ... “Never mind me, how are you?” said Sirius seriously.
(GoF, page 331)
Sirius again, shows his responsibility towards Harry's well-being over his own (both here and in the above letter).
Sirius is the only adult who actually talks to Harry about the Dursleys with sympathy:
“But if they do expel me,” said Harry, quietly, “can I come back here and live with you?” Sirius smiled sadly. “We’ll see.” “I’d feel a lot better about the hearing if I knew I didn’t have to go back to the Dursleys,” Harry pressed him. “They must be bad if you prefer this place,” said Sirius gloomily.
(OotP, page 116)
We know Sirius would love nothing more than for Harry to stay with him. He's lonely and bored at Grimmauld and would love to have Harry there. But at the same time, he doesn't want Harry expelled from Hogwarts and is trying not to be hopeful for it.
Sirius understands the Dursleys are awful, he just know the full scope, but it's more of a reaction than we get from most adults in this series. To me, it looks like Sirius is annoyed by how limited he is in helping Harry. He can't really do much about the Dursleys or their status as Harry's guardians.
“So you want me to say I’m not going to take part in the defense group?” he muttered finally. “Me? Certainly not!” said Sirius, looking surprised. “I think it’s an excellent idea!” “You do?” said Harry, his heart lifting. “Of course I do!” said Sirius. “D’you think your father and I would’ve lain down and taken orders from an old hag like Umbridge?” “But — last term all you did was tell me to be careful and not take risks —” “Last year all the evidence was that someone inside Hogwarts was trying to kill you, Harry!” said Sirius impatiently. “This year we know that there’s someone outside Hogwarts who’d like to kill us all, so I think learning to defend yourselves properly is a very good idea!” “And if we do get expelled?” Hermione asked, a quizzical look on her face. “Hermione, this whole thing was your idea!” said Harry, staring at her. “I know it was. . . . I just wondered what Sirius thought,” she said, shrugging. “Well, better expelled and able to defend yourselves than sitting safely in school without a clue,” said Sirius.
(OotP, page 371)
I love this scene as well. Sirius cares for Harry's safety first and foremost. Harry being safe is his top priority at every given point. And he's reasonable and logical and treats Harry like someone to protect, not like a friend.
Like, Harry when he has a problem and needs advice throughout books 4 and 5, he calls Sirius. He's Harry's go-to parental figure for advice, and Sirius takes his rule seriously. He gives the advice he honestly thinks is best and ensures Harry's safety and continued survival to the best of his ability.
“It matters because we don’t want to draw attention to the fact that Harry is having visions of things that are happening hundreds of miles away!” said Sirius angrily. “Have you any idea what the Ministry would make of that information?” Fred and George looked as though they could not care less what the Ministry made of anything. Ron was still white-faced and silent. Ginny said, “Somebody else could have told us. . . . We could have heard it somewhere other than Harry. . . .”
(OotP, pages 476-477)
Again, Harry's safety is Sirius' first priority above everyone else. Harry's happiness and privacy also take precedence over most other things. He doesn't want Harry under even more scrutiny from the ministry and the Wizarding World and protecting him from that is just as important to him.
To me, it feels like people who say he treats Harry like a James replacement didn't read the books....
“It must have been the aftermath of the vision, that’s all,” said Sirius. “You were still thinking of the dream or whatever it was and —” “It wasn’t that,” said Harry, shaking his head. “It was like something rose up inside me, like there’s a snake inside me —” “You need to sleep,” said Sirius firmly. “You’re going to have breakfast and then go upstairs to bed, and then you can go and see Arthur after lunch with the others. You’re in shock, Harry; you’re blaming yourself for something you only witnessed, and it’s lucky you did witness it or Arthur might have died. Just stop worrying. . . .” He clapped Harry on the shoulder and left the pantry, leaving Harry standing alone in the dark.
(OotP, pages 480-481)
And I love this too. How he tries to comfort Harry and make everything easier for him. When the rest of the Order were gossiping about how dangerous his connection to Voldemort is, Sirius is honestly trying to get Harry to worry about it less.
He might be lying here, but he is right about sending Harry to sleep after a sleepless night like they had. And he is right about Harry being in shock and needing the rest. I just, really like how much Sirius cares. Harry just doesn't have other adults in his life who care for him like Sirius does.
But some part of him realized, even as he fought to break free from Lupin, that Sirius had never kept him waiting before. . . . Sirius had risked everything, always, to see Harry, to help him. . . . If Sirius was not reappearing out of that archway when Harry was yelling for him as though his life depended on it, the only possible explanation was that he could not come back. . . . That he really was . . .
(OotP, page 808)
This. Scene. Just kills me.
Like, Harry understands how much Sirius cares about him, and how Sirius always puts him first. He knows the only way Sirius won't drop everything to come and when Harry calls for him is if he can't.
Because Sirius escaped Azkaban when he realized Harry might be in danger from Peter, not for his own safety, but for Harry’s. Sirius dropped everything and moved to live in a cave and eat rats when Harry's scar hurt. He stuck around Hogwarts and Hogsmead during the Triwizard Tournament, when it was crawling with ministry officials because Harry might need him. He was willing to do so much for Harry. And Harry knew this.
I think, given time, they could've had an amazing dynamic, and I wish we had more of Sirius and his care for Harry. That we saw more of his approach to parenting Harry.
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clesired · 1 month ago
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𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 | 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘 !
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
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─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 ! “can i request a fred x black cat!gf since he’s such a golden retriever!bf?” thank you to the lovely anon who requested this <3
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ! my take on what i imagine a golden retriever bf!fred x black cat gf!reader relationship looks like.
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ! no warnings, fluff, fem!reader, golden retriever bf!fred x black cat gf!reader, established relationship!
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 !
🥥 golden retriever bf!fred who’s obsessed with you, his black cat!gf
🥥 you’re the only person that can get him to chill the heck out when he’s all hyper and causing chaos with george ( you and angelina are constantly tag teaming the twins )
🥥 will do anything you ask without question
🥥 constantly laying his head in your lap
🥥 will follow you around like a puppy
🥥 you are constantly wandering the castle grounds on your own and fred always has to hunt you down using the marauder’s map ( he borrows it from harry after he and george give it to him )
🥥 you never get pranked because you’re dating fred, but also because the twins are afraid of how you’d retaliate
🥥 cuddling is his favorite pastime
🥥 people are constantly sending you patronus messages to come and get fred because he’s causing a ruckus
🥥 professors regularly use you as a messenger to inform the twins when they have detention
🥥 fred found a way to get past the enchantment preventing boys from entering the girls’ dorm just so he can cuddle with you every night
🥥 he knows you hate quidditch and the only reason you watch the games is for him, so he always makes sure to balance out the weekends with stuff you like to do as well
🥥 carries your books and/or book bag for you even when you insist you can do it yourself
🥥 always makes a plate for you first; no matter if it’s breakfast, lunch, or dinner
🥥 loves to cuddle
🥥 if you’re ever in an argument/fight with someone, he’ll let you go off because he knows you can handle your own, but he’ll still be ready to jump in if things escalate
🥥 during breaks, he’s terrible at writing letters for everyone except you
🥥 he and george will sometimes pretend to be the other twin for a day but you thwart it every time because you can tell them apart
🥥 whether it’s holding hands, an arm around your waist, or even you sitting in his lap—if you’re near, you must be touching him in some way, shape, or form
🥥 you met him and george at the same time and they did that thing where they pretended to be the other twin, and you—the natural skeptic that you are, immediately called their bluff…he was head over heels after that
🥥 if someone calls your name, he will look up too
🥥 happily listens to you lecturing him after he gets injured in a game and ends up in the hospital wing—partially because he loves seeing how much you care, but also because the potions madam pomfrey gave him are strong
🥥 instantly melts when you card your hand(s) through his hair
🥥 will act like a needy baby when he’s ill and demand you take care of him ( you do, obviously )
🥥 in turn, will be the most doting mother hen when you’re ill even though you try to make him go away so you don’t spread your sickness to him
🥥 adding on to the previous one, he’ll get all embarrassed when you poke fun at him for his doting ( “the molly genes are strong in this one” )
🥥 will prank someone if they piss you off ( unprompted btw, you don’t even have to ask!!! )
🥥 will proudly wear an ‘i love my gf’ shirt
🥥 he loves it when you get jealous because he thinks it’s hot
🥥 he instantly shuts all of it down, though—he’d never dare let your relationship be disrespected
🥥 you don’t even need to ask for reassurance because he’s so loud in his love for you that you never question it in the first place ( you still get jealous though )
🥥 much to your chagrin, he names your fur baby y/n junior ( fic )
🥥 absolutely melts whenever you call him freddie
🥥 did i mention he likes to cuddle?
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐪𝐮𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 !
𝐤𝐞𝐲 ! fred, you, other people
🐚 “guys, where’s my girlfriend?”
🐚 “i miss my girlfriend.” “she just went to the bathroom?” “exactly.”
🐚 “cuddle time?” ( constant ask btw, not that you’re complaining )
🐚 “can you at least pretend to be happy that your boyfriend is here?” “you’re supposed to be in detention!?”
🐚 “not arguing with my beautiful girlfriend. whatever you say, gorgeous.”
🐚 “can we go cuddle now?”
🐚 “i know my girlfriend is pretty, mate. you don’t need to stare though, yeah?”
🐚 “love it when you call me freddie.”
🐚 “are you single?” “fortunately, no!”
🐚 “why are we studying when we could be cuddling right now instead?”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐪𝐮𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 !
𝐤𝐞𝐲 ! you, fred, other people
🫧 “what did he do this time, professor?”
🫧 “nice try george, i know you’re not my boyfriend. where is he?”
🫧 “cuddle time.” ( your response every time he asks )
🫧 “freddie?” “yes, my love?” “nothing, just wanted to hear you call me that.”
🫧 “ang, i feel like the castle’s been too quiet lately.” “i agree…” “wait- where are the boys!?”
🫧 “y/n, come quick! fred keeps talking about spiking snape’s pumpkin juice!” “of course he is. why are you telling me this?” “you’re the only one who can tell him not to!”
🫧 “yes, we can go cuddle now, freddie.”
🫧 “y/nsaywhatifyouloveme.” “what?” “yes!”
🫧 “i love you, freddie.” “you love meee.” ( he giggles as he says it, canon )
🫧 “yes, my love—i think you’re the prettier twin.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ! wooh, first headcanon post done!!! i hope you lovelies enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it!
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
©clesired - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
xoxo,
mila! *: ・🐚༄🫧*ੈ✩
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starrvsn · 1 year ago
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౨ৎ ּ ׅ ۫ ✧ 。BOYS IN THE BOAT ˚₊ ꒰ TO BE LOVED .
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﹙ MOVIE/FANDOM ⠆THE BOYS IN THE BOAT ﹚
𝟒𝟏𝟏. some of the fictional characters of the boys in the boat comforting you when you’re upset. (for anyone in need of some tlc)
INCLUDES ⠆joe rantz, don hume, bobby moch, george hunt and chuck day
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BOBBY MOCH ⠆
ever since you’ve started dating it had become very easy for bobby to read you, you were like an open book to him. so when he met you after practice and your sweet melodic voice didn’t greet him the second you saw him, he knew something was wrong. bobby doesn’t hesitate to start comforting you, he didn’t even need to know what was wrong from him to make you feel better. he knew the last thing you wanted was for him to ask you why you were upset so he sticks to comforting you. he hugs you; soothingly rubbing your lower back as he holds you close, his presence alone calms you down. soon he asks what had happened but doesn’t force you to tell him, he doesn’t dare to. then he’s praising you with soft compliments as he pressed kisses on your face, hair or hands. he overall just wants you to feel happy and appreciated since you do so much for him.
DON HUME ⠆
don isn’t the best at comforting people, especially people of importance so seeing you sitting in front of the piano with tears in your eyes when you looked at him, he froze. a plethora of thoughts racing through his mind as he tried to figure out was wrong but most importantly what he could do to make you feel better. he takes cautious steps towards you and kneels when he gets to his desired spot that is as close to you as possible “you alright darling?” he asks rubbing your arms comfortingly, he doesn’t say much when he’s comforting you, he lets his actions speak for themselves. you nod wiping all your excess tears away, telling him how frustrated you are over this piece you were learning. don’s heart breaks a little seeing you so upset like that, he wanted to cheer you up in anyway he could so the first thing that came to mind was the piano so he’s quick to move his hands on the keys of the instrument, playing the only song he really knew. the washington fight song; as he plays and softly sings the words— a soft smile tugs on your face as you begin to sing along, resting your head against his arm as he plays.
JOE RANTZ ⠆
he reacts instinctively. as soon as he sees you enter his dorm with a solemn face he’s already on his feet comforting you. it was every evident in your relationship that joe just wanted you to always be happy and obviously it isn’t fool proof because sometimes things get to you. he tries his hardest to always put a smile on your face and that’s exactly what he tries to do to turn your frown upside down. he takes his time because the last thing he wanted to do was overwhelm you more, he asks whats upset you and from how you tell him is how he differs on how upset you are. if you hadn’t said anything at all you were far too upset but if not you weren’t to upset to respond to your boyfriend. so when you didn’t reply he immediately comforted you into a hug before bringing you to his bed so can cuddle, he lays atop you while he speaks softly about how strong and lovely you are while drawing soft patterns on your arm, later he tries to make you laugh and it always works to make your mood brighter. he praises you before pressing a sweet kiss to your lips.
GEORGE HUNT ⠆
the second he sits beside you in the library, he felt something was off. at first he couldn’t tell but there was a certain tension in the air and when george looks over at you it’s like he could see a cloud hanging over you, he wanted nothing more than to swat it away… but of course there wasn’t a cloud over your head but he now knew you were upset. he could especially tell from how aggressively you were turning the pages of your textbook. he knew better to bombard you so he kept his distance letting your mood soften a bit, but it doesn’t stop him from glancing ever so often trying to not look over so often. but ultimately you come to him when your ready and that is when he gives you his undivided attention and all the love and comfort he can give. physical affection comes easy to george so him comforting you has become a second nature to him, even if it leads to him speaking so sweetly to you to you. he bombards you with kisses, cuddles and words of encouragement and reassurance to make sure any negative thoughts you had go away and all you can think about is him, caring less that you’re in a public place.
CHUCK DAY ⠆
like bobby; chuck can read you very easily, especially emotionally. he can tell immediately that something is wrong when he goes to pick to you up from your last class of the day; assuming you’re upset about something that happened in class. chuck tries his absolute best to get your mind off it while at the same to reassuring you and praising you as you spend your day together. in a more quieter fashion he would take you on walks to the park so you could clear your head and even open up to your lover on what had made you so upset, it concerns chuck the most because you get super quiet when your upset. he misses when your talking his ear off about your day but he knows that it’ll subside eventually and he will try his absolute best to help you feel better.
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ownership of starrvsn. please do not repost, modify or translate.
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wordsarelife · 1 year ago
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reader needs to get her bloodwork done and she's scared to go alone, so when lockwood sees that something bothers her she asks him to go with her? with prompts 10 and 11 pretty please? 💌🎀💕
—i think he knows
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pairing: anthony lockwood x fem!reader
summary: reader has to admit her true feelings for lockwood after her heartbeat goes through the roof at his touch
warnings: mentions of blood and vomiting
note: i extended it a bit, i just can't help it, hope that was alright :)
prompts: in bold
you were sitting on the couch in portland row, your book laying on your legs, as your fingers hammered an unsteady rhythm onto the surface.
you tried concentrating on the words you were reading, you really did, but the nerves held you in a chokehold.
“okay” lockwood, who was sitting in his usual seat, closed the magazine he had been reading “what is bothering you?”
“nothing” you muttered, hiding from his eyes.
he stood up and sat down next to you. “well, it must be something” he took your book from you legs and pointed at the little folded corner. “you started reading twenty minutes ago and haven’t even turned the page”
there was nothing you could say against that. you hadn’t even noticed it had been that long, different thoughts ghosting through your mind
“okay” you finally breathed “but it’s embarrassing”
“it’s just me, you can tell me” he encouraged you smiling. you smiled back at him and nodded
“i have to get my blood work done later today and i’m - i’m scared”
“that’s not even embarrassing” lockwood smiled “a lot of people can’t see blood”
“yeah” you shrugged “but it’s so much worse. when i see blood, i have to throw up, the smell- it’s just overwhelming”
“you can smell blood?”
“you can’t?”
he shrugged “at least that explains why you always look so disgusted when i had a wound from the job, i had feared it was my face”
“it’s not your face” you grinned, shaking your head “it’s just so disgusting”
“the blood, right?” lockwood laughed
“yeah” you smiled “would you mind coming with me? i think that would help a lot”
“as long as you don’t throw up all over me, i’m willing to sit beside you and hold your hand”
“thank you” you smiled and squeezed his hand
“if it helps you can look at my face while it’s happening”
“as long as you don’t suddenly bleed in that area, that would be amazing”
“i’ll try my best” he laughed and stood up, collecting his coat from off the couch
“hey, lockwood?”
“yeah?”
“thank you for noticing, i might’ve not told you otherwise”
“of course. you know that i care about you, right?”
“i care about you too. and if you ever need something, please let me know”
“i could use some help with cleaning blood off my face after jobs”
“yeah, not happening” you slapped his arm and walked out of the room to grab your coat. lockwood followed you
“i heard confrontation was the best therapy, we could start with your eyes closed and slowly open them bit for bit”
“i’m not cleaning blood off your face, lockwood”
“but lucy won’t do it either”
“wonder why”
lockwood laughed and followed you outside, closing the door behind you both
“how about hypnosis?”
you threw him a deadpanned look.
“alright i get it, not happening”
you just rolled your eyes and laughed, totally having forgotten how nervous you were.
Lockwood was sitting right next to you, when the nurse began to get you ready.
"how are you feeling?" he asked softly, you send him a look that told him everything he needed to know. "okay" he breathed, laughing
"this thing" the nurse held up a little device "will measure your pulse and it will make a sound if it's too high, or too low" she connected the device and it began to beep slowly. calming you down, as you noticed how relaxed your heart was beating.
the next thing you knew, the procedure had started. you took a quick look to the right, but quickly looked back at Lockwood, scrunching your face in disgust.
Lockwood smiled at the funny face you were doing, before his hand took yours. surprise entered your face and you stopped concentrating on your blood and the smell of it and rather on him.
the device began to beep quicker.
"everything, alright?" the nurse asked from beside you
"yeah" you looked at the friendly woman and your heartbeat calmed, then your eyes returned back to Lockwood and it picked up it's pace.
"that is weird" the woman watched the device closely
"maybe it's broken?" Lockwood suggested, squeezing your hand in comfort. your heartbeat picked up again. the nurse raised her eyes to look at the boy, then back at you.
"oh, that's a rather common disease" she laughed
"oh?" you repeated scared "am i gonna die?"
"no" she shook her head, still laughing
you looked at Anthony in confusion. he was smiling and you didn't understand a thing.
"Lockwood?" you asked scared "what is wrong with me?"
now Lockwood had to laugh too, him and the nurse syncing. "nothing, love, absolutely nothing is wrong with you"
"i suggest that for the rest of the procedure, you two let go of each other. keep your eyes on me, ms l/n"
"s-sure" you said, still confused
"this really never happened before" the nurse smiled in Lockwood's direction. "don't look at him" she scolded, as your eyes were ready to wander back to his form "look at me, dear"
"why are you laughing?" Lockwood walked next to you on the way back home, and he was giggling and nearly jumping in the air from excitement. "what did she mean, earlier?"
Lockwood stopped walking and looked at you "you don't know?"
"obviously i don't"
"oh, okay" he breathed "well. i think she suggested that your heartbeat picked up, anytime i touched you or you looked at me"
"bullshit" you shook your head "why would it? it's not like i'm scared of you"
"yeah, that's not quite the word i would use either" he stepped closer, pointing at your wrist "may i?"
you shrugged your shoulders, unsure what he would do next. "go ahead"
his hand went to your wrist and rested on your pulse. then his other hand pulled a strand of hair behind your ear. you could feel your pulse pick up and so could he, because now he was smiling, like he had just proven a theory.
he thought for a second, before his hand wandered to your cheek, softly stroking it. your heartbeat picked up even more. his eyes fell to your lips. he stepped forward and planted a featherlight kiss onto them.
he jumped back. "whoa" he laughed "felt like your heart was exploding"
you looked at him with big eyes, still shocked at what just happened. then you got an idea. your eyes wandered to his wrist and you pointed at it. "may i?" you asked and Lockwood nodded
you softly took his wrist and your fingers immediately found his pulse. it was beating steady, nothing out of the ordinary. your other hand landed on his chest and his pulse picked up, with every movement you did, his pulse got faster. your hand softly wandered up his chest, before it went to his shoulder. you caressed his cheek for a moment and then went to grab his hair in the nap of his neck. his pulse felt like it was exploding, you weren't even sure if it was healthy to be this fast.
your hand, which had found a steady position in his neck, quickly pushed him forward, until your lips crushed together in hunger. you forget to keep your hand at his wrist. it joined your other one and both of them were roaming his hair.
both his hands went to your waist. you breathed each other in like air, as if only a kiss could save you. his tongue entered your mouth. your knees almost buckled from the effect that had on you, but he held you steady.
after a while you broke the kiss, both laughing.
"that was amazing" you smiled
"and rather unsafe considering your heart nearly beat out of your chest when i kissed you the first time" Lockwood noted "you heart nearly exploded when i touched your neck, before i even kissed you, mister" you scolded laughing
"that's just the effect you have on me" he shrugged smiling
"let's go home?" you asked and he nodded.
"so how do you feel about me exactly?" Lockwood smiled smugly
"i ain't gotta tell you, i think you know" you plastered a longing kiss on his mouth, before you took his hand, nearly skipping down the street from pure happiness.
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alivegirldetectiveagency · 7 months ago
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The show gives us very little information about edwin’s life. i’m pretty sure all we know is (1) he read detective stories (2) is father would call crystal a bobtail (3) he was presumably bullied (i say presumably because the ritual could have been a first incident but i find that unlikely just cause. the severity of it)
i hope we learn a little more if we get a season 2 because i think edwins childhood would give interesting insight into him (this goes for all the characters actually) but i think we can make a lot of assumptions about what his life was like based off the time period
(disclaimer: i am not an expert by any stretch of the imagination, so i apologize for any inaccuracies)(and for any typos)
this post got kinda long so the rest is under the cut
edwin lived from 1900-1916 which mostly encompasses the edwardian era (1901-1910). for the purposes of this post i will be talking as if it was all edwardian for simplicity and also because the last few years of the victorian era and the first few years after edward vii would have been very similar. i am also operating under the assumption the paynes were upper class because (1) vibes (2) edwin is very formal which would have been emphasized the most in the upper classes (3) he had the time and money to go to boarding school which still wasn’t very accessible (although education was growing in importance)
the importance of childhood was growing in the era and there was a lot more leisure time and entertainment. still, etiquette and manners were very important so there would have had the “seen and not heard” attitude towards children. in upper class families, child rearing would have been done by a nanny and not the mother. the father as head of the house would have been strict and interacted little with the children. so edwin probably saw very little of his parents while growing up even before boarding school. since edwin was a son his father might have taken him out for things like shooting/hunting but that would have been just him and his father (and brothers if he had any). also edwin does Not seem like he would have enjoyed that so i dunno if much bonding would have occurred during those outings. family time in general would be rather brief. He would have had more time spent with siblings his age since younger children would have spent most of their time in the nursery/with the nanny.
i’m going to brush past the school life part because i do not know much about it other than that he would have started at st Hilarions around 13. and that i’m pretty sure corporal punishment was used in boarding schools like it at the time? (not entirely sure on that front it depends on if the school is state sponsored) we can infer from the show that edwin did not have a Great time at school but i don’t know what the specifics would have been like
etiquette was very very important. i don’t think the edwardian era was quite as strict as the victorian era but there was still a LOT of social expectations. including the perfect posture george rexstrew does as edwin. etiquette would also include addressing everyone properly and limited affection. you also wouldn’t really touch anyone! not to get their attention or shake hands in greeting or clapping someone on the back. Self control was everything even in times of excitement or distress. Social classes were very strict although the industrial revolution created the neavue riche so social mobility was not impossible. new rich families often tried to adapt the traditions of the (aristocratic) upper class but integration was slooow. (Middle class families would adopt trends from the upper classes too). while formality was important, language in general was simplifying partially due to mass newspapers. if you’ve ever read Oliver Twist or another Dickens story, the language is very verbose and hard to follow which is par the course for victorian literature but less so for edwardian literature.
speaking of literature and entertainment we know edwin liked detective stories. he reads a max carrados story (which started in 1914) to charles and in edwin’s death flashback you see him with a detective penny/dime novel (in the scene you can read “The Aldine Tip Top Tales, High Hat Harry” and google tells me the rest of the title is “The Base Ball Detective”). Edwin probably also read Sherlock Holmes which was still popular. Growing up he might have Peter Pan/Peter and Wendy (the title changed after its initial publishing in 1904) and The Tale of Peter Rabbit (1902). And more short stories and dime novels (like the Aldine company ones) since they were getting very popular at the time. Entertainments like the Winter Gardens and Pleasure Beach in Blackpool were also growing popularity. but generally outdoor upper class entertainment would have been tennis, hunting, or racing. (fun fact the 1908 summer olympics was in london so edwin might have watched it as a child!) there also would have been a lot of dinner parties but those would have been for the parents to maintain or increase social status and not necessarily include the children.
overall edwin’s childhood probably included a lot of extravagant entertainment. He would not have spent much time with his parent so unless edwin had siblings his early childhood would have probably been lonely. canon does not suggest he really made friends while in school either.
Canon and fanon has touched on how edwin’s social skills took a hit from being in hell for 70 years (which is definitely true). But on top of just escaping hell, edwin is using knowledge/skills from a vastly different social era when he first meets charles. it must have been really jarring the first few years of being friends because charles’s ideas/experiences with friendship were WILDLY different than edwin’s
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mydaddywiki · 2 months ago
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Ernie Sabella
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Physique: Chubby Build Height: 5’ 5" (1.65 m)
Ernest Sabella (born September 19, 1949) is an American actor. He is best known for his role as Pumbaa from The Lion King franchise, voicing the character in all media except the 2019 and 2024 films. Sabella's TV roles include Mr. Donald "Twinkie" Twinkacetti in Perfect Strangers, George Shipman in A Fine Romance, and Leon Carosi in Saved by the Bell. His work in Broadway theatre includes starring roles in Guys and Dolls, Chicago, Curtains, and Man of La Mancha.
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"Hey, I'm short and sorta fat. I can make people laugh. That's about it." is how the character actor describes himself. Sabella caught my attention on Saved by the Bell, but it wasn’t until he appeared on an episode of Seinfeld that I had a major boner for the little warthog. As an overweight nudist reading a newspaper on the subway, Sabella became the third man I masturbated to behind the late Charles Durning and Tom Bosley. Hey they were very comparable.
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Born in Westchester County, New York, Sabella graduated from the University of Miami, where he studied at the Department of Theatre Arts and performed at the university's Jerry Herman Ring Theatre.
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Sabella is married to Cheryl, a computer programmer since 1999. Hmm… they have no children. Ernie often teams up with Nathan Lane in productions such as movies, plays and musicals like Guys and Dolls, Mouse Hunt, The Producers and of course The Lion King film series. Now I'm not saying there's something going on between them. I just like to imagine there is. Hakuna Matata!
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Known For: Perfect Strangers (TV Series 1986–1987) Saved by the Bell (TV Series 1991) Seinfeld (TV Series) - S3/E13 - The Subway (1992) The Lion King (1994) Timon & Pumbaa (1995) Mousehunt (1997) The Lion King 1½ (2004)
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undying-love · 11 months ago
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Paul being very secure about his sexuality: A compilation
"The reason why we didn’t do Up Against It wasn’t because it was too far out or anything. We didn’t do it because it was gay. We weren’t gay and really that was all there was to it. It was quite simple, really. Brian was gay…and so he and the gay crowd could appreciate it. Now, it wasn’t that we were anti-gay – just that we, The Beatles, weren’t gay."
“It was always obvious Brian was gay and we could talk to him about gay things, but he would never come out with, ‘Hello, Paul, you’re looking nice today.’ I was quite obviously un-gay, due to my hunting of the female hordes. I think we all gave that impression."
Q:  You must be very secure with yourself.
Paul: I think it is that. I'm OK with gay people, too, because I'm essentially comfortable with my sexuality. I can goof around with gay people. I sort of know who I am by now.  And it's about time.
"I imagine he heard it [Dear Friend]. I think he listened to my records, but he never responded directly. That wasn't his way. We were guys; it wasn't like a boy and a girl. In those days you didn't release much emotion with each other."
"One thing he told us was that one in every four men is homosexual. So we looked at the group! One in every four! It literally meant one of us is gay. Oh, fucking hell, it’s not me, is it? We had a lot of soul-searching to do over that little one."
"There's a song I do called Here Today which is specifically written for John. That sometimes catches me out. I realise I'm telling this man that I love him and it's like I'm publicly declaring this in front of all these people I don't know. I sometimes wonder what I'm doing.
Q: In “Here Today”, you talk about your love for John. Did you ever say that to him, in those days?" Paul: No. I'm sure we both felt it. But that is not something two boys use to say to each other. If they were gay, maybe. Otherwise it is rare that that happens."
"My view is that these things are there whether you want them or not, in your interior. You don't call up dreams, they happen, often the exact opposite of what you want. You can be heterosexual and be having a homosexual dream and wake up, and think, 'Shit, am I gay?' I like that you don't have control over it. But there is some control -- it is you dreaming, it is your mind it's all happening in."
"We were in New York before he [George] went to Los Angeles to die, and they were silly but important to me. And, I think, important to him. We were sitting there, and I was holding his hand, and it occurred to me — I’ve never told this — I don’t want to hold George’s hand. You don’t hold your mate’s hands. I mean, we didn’t anyway. "
"Yeah, I think he [John] did [love me], yeah. It wasn’t actually a spiky relationship at all. It was, uh, very warm, very close and very loving, I think. All The Beatles. We used to say, I think we were amongst the first sort of men to come out openly – and you remember, it was quite sort of strange in those days, we’re talking about a long time ago now when homosexuality was still sort of largely illegal."
"Because he [Robert Faser] was gay, it raised a few small-minded eyebrows, and funnily enough, one or two of them were from within the Beatles: ‘Hey, man, he’s gay, what you going off to Paris with him for? They’re gonna talk, you know. Tongues are going to wag.’ I said, ‘I know tongues are going to wag, but tough shit.’ I was secure about my sexuality. I always felt this is is fine. I can hang with whoever I want and it didn’t worry me. I mean, we didn’t share a room or anything."
"With Robert’s thing of course there would be gayness. But there was no open gayness. If there was to be gayness it would be a quiet phone call that Robert would go and take in the bedroom or something. That was one of the good things, actually, because I knew he was gay and he knew I wasn’t gay so we were quite safe in our own | sexuality. We could talk to each other. "
Lastly, there is this odd anecdote that may or may not mean anything, but here it is:
One of the strangest of these incidents came at the end of 1992 when Mark Featherstone-Witty attended the MPL Christmas lunch. Mark took an accountant friend to the meal, a McCartney fan he'd known for years, which led to a strange and unpleasant row. By Mark's recollection, Paul's manager Richard Ogden summoned him into the MPL office the next day where he read him the riot act for bringing an unwelcome guest to Paul's party. 'What do you mean by bringing someone who was so obviously gay to Paul's Christmas party? Have you any idea about the responsibility you carry in this project?' he allegedly asked. 'What are you talking about?' replied Featherstone-Witty, explaining who his friend was. 'But he was gay, you stupid fucker!' 'No, he isn't.' 'You've got to be careful. You can't do anything that would embarrass Paul...'"
Fab : An intimate Life of Paul McCartney by Howard Sounes
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teekays · 5 months ago
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hello! if memory serves you are the blog that talked about boy band pretty as a marketing tactic (or something to that effect? the search function does not work so if i’m wrong i’m terribly sorry) and i was wondering if you would be willing to find someone from each team (can include prospects if you want) to create the ultimate nhl boy band. this is not a necessary thing to do, solely shits and gigs and if you ever feel like it doing it. have a lovely day!
HIIIIIII that WAS me and you sent this at the perfect time because i am at the laundromat with time to kill and i LOVE to discuss this.... let's chop it up.... a few disclaimers: this is subjective so don't get mad at me and i will be including prospects and ahl players where i know its applicable BUT for most of these teams i will be going off the main roster + looks alone because if i did a full deep dive vibes analysis on every team's roster and prospects it would take me like two months to answer this ask... you understand. we are being SHALLOW here today in the true spirit of the boy band industry. let's go!!!
carolina hurricanes: i know everyone wants me to say sebastian aho but he is 1) too old 2) too unsettling looking. the elf on the shelf is not boy band pretty im sorry 😭 i do love him but he's just not the vibe here... i will say based on looks either scott morrow or jackson blake and his 90s heartthrob hair. i want to say seth jarvis because he's my special pop pop but that does contradict almost everything i have said previously so i will not be biased but know that if he was a pop star i would be his biggest fan i would kiss his poster. and that's my truth
columbus blue jackets: in the interest of journalistic integrity i went to their roster instead of just saying it's obviously kj as the intimidating aloof one in the boy ("boy") band but actually i do think it's cole sillinger.... teen heartthrob. also i didn't know that he was born in columbus because his dad was playing for the team and his brother is also on the team??? imagine having a whole destiny like that and its for COLUMBUS OHIO 😭
new jersey devils: jack hughes. open and shut case argue with the WALL
new york islanders: NOT MAT BARZAL. HE LOOKS 35. STAND UP LADIES!!! lowkey i do not know any of these dudes and this roster is kind of busted as fuck 😭😭😭 (NOT ANTHONY DUCLAIR who is too old to be a boy band boy but who i do love) bargain bin team... anyway isaiah george YOU! are the only cute person the new york islanders
new york rangers: matt rempe. those pictures of him lounging around on the phone??? wow. no words. diva heartthrob behavior. it's sad what they're doing to him what are we doing to our beautiful queens :(
philadelphia flyers: after much careful deliberation.... i think denver barkey is taking it. denver is such a deeply boy band name tbh he was born for this!!! i know everyone thinks it's jamie (who i still forget is a flyer 😭) but can you imagine him on a stage? singing a song? they are reinventing shoegaze for him. negative star quality (AFFECTIONATE!!!!!!! LOVING!!!!!!!!!!!!)
pittsburgh penguins: well NOW the obvious answer is rutger mcgroarty... not even worth going through that senior center roster when he's there tbh sorry pens
washington capitals: AGAIN. SENIOR CENTER ROSTER. i had to go to their prospects page to find someone suitable and my vote is patrick leonard he's a cutie!!! also im so sorry to say this but my jaw dropped when i got to this guy why are you playing hockey you need to make a children's album RIGHT NOW. i know he could do a banger cover of the We're going on a bear hunt song. but i digress...
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boston bruins: matthew poitras is adorable and exudes star quality NEXTTTT. shoutout also brett harrison who looks like a long lost jonas brother
buffalo sabres: JACK QUINNN JQUIZZY HIMSELF partly for looks mostly for vibes... he has extreme "jack dylan grazer vape apology video" energy and also he has that boyish charm... either him or devon levi (hot) not miss owen power for the same reasons as jamie. she could never be a pop star 😔 ryan mcleod used to be the oilers popstar boy but now he's got too much competition he's a little niche for the title
detroit red wings: my gut tells me simon edvinsson but a look at the roster tells me there is some competition in the form of amadeus lombardi... if we were discussing this two years ago mo seider would be the obvious answer but he's too grizzled now 😔
florida panthers: 🙄 here comes another busted fucking roster... i guess denisenko??? panthers are not really representing here....
montreal canadiens: ARBER <3 he's like the bad boy hottie in the boy band. the one that makes your dad shake his head when he sees him on tv
ottawa senators: wow the atlantic division is fucking WACK this was another case of like. okay i guess ill pick one of yous but REALLY? so congratulations jorian donovan YOU are in the boy band
tampa bay lightning: seriously what is going on in this division. jack finley looks like he was the closeted one in a boy band from the early 2000s but he's aged past that now and he has a husband and a wine brand.... so we will bring him back for nostalgia points. welcome to the team. also i have to be honest i thought of myself as pretty well acquainted with the ahl but the SYRACUSE CRUNCH? that's crazy
leafs: JOSEPH WOLL! boyish charm out the ears on that one. a real cutie
chicago: obviously it's bedard. we all know it's bedard. on the surface he has no charisma but he does have a certain kind of shy boy charm and he IS adorable... he's the one in the boy band who makes your mom tut over him like "he seems like a nice boy"
colorado avalanche: wow huge props to matt stienburg for having maybe the single most boy band roster photo i have seen yet... THIS is the guy they get in the boy band because he's already had huge success with his hit single called like, Heart React Girlfriend or whatever. this is jacob sartorius if he played hockey. this is chase dreams. this kid is going places
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dallas stars: it's obviously wyjo, joining the ranks with cbedard as The Nice One <3
minnesota wild: okay i was going to say brock faber because every group needs a kevin jonas (SORRY BROCK) but WHO is kyle masters and why does he look like knockoff brendan brisson. budget briss. diet briss. we have briss at home.
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nashville predators: this just reminded me cody glass is a penguin now 💔 anyway the preds have some STRONG contenders here wow.... jeremy hanzel is taking it but i think luke evangelista could pull it off... now if you asked me to be really subjective it would be ozzy wiesblatt who would also be the subject of much poster kissing and rigged "which member of the nhl boy band should you date" tests so i get him as the result but that's just me....
st louis blues: jeremie biakabutuka your radiant smile has charmed me.... welcome to the band....
utah whatevers: MONTANA ONYEBUCHI I AM SO FUCKING SORRY THE SHARKS DIDNT APPRECIATE YOU. BUT WE WILL..... also matt villalta kinda giving off brand kj... you could build a whole off brand version of that umich team just with guys from other teams i bet
winnipeg jets: dylan coghlan you will always be famous to ME but i fear you are a little too old for our purposes here.... other than him they kinda don't have a lot going for them.... brayden yager it is your time to shine as off brand owen power ♥️
anaheim ducks: some strong competition here... tz is the obvious choice but i think we need to think bigger... olen zellwegger please step forward....
calgary flames: matt coronato i am free on thursday if you would like to hang out on thursday when i am free and also join this boy band
edmonton oilers: yet another old ass roster 😭 they're lucky they got so many sabres because matt savoie is saving their asses rn
los angeles kings: angus booth is smizing in every single photo i saw of him so. come on now
san jose sharks: it's so obviously will smith i don't even know what we're doing here tbh
seattle kraken: tye kartye looks like he would be into white water rafting so he can be the nature guy in the boy band.... strong competition from tucker robertson but he's just a touch too gay porn for this vibe
vancouver canucks: JETT WOO... HELLO.... but also shoutout cole mcward for having 2014 gay youtuber phenotype. a connor franta troye sivan type face if ive ever seen one
vegas golden knights: BRISS ‼️‼️‼️ my little tabloid queen... not only is he in the boy band but he's in the news and the media. he was born to be a star. natural ham. child actor energy. alex holtz is also a strong contender for this but i think he's off on his own doing his little pop star solo act thing
this took way longer than laundromat time but it was worth it i had so much fun!!!!! thank you!!!!!!
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see-arcane · 1 month ago
Text
Blood of My Blood: Longest Night
I imagine it's tricky for a family that's 3/4 vampires to celebrate the regular batch of holidays. But a kid deserves to be festive now and then and there is a handy time of year for nocturnal sorts to celebrate.
December 21st, the winter solstice, the Longest Night.
You can read under the cut or on Ao3 here.
There were three holidays in the castle.
One was St. George’s Day Eve, which neatly held hands with the boy’s birthnight. Father was always called away for the hunting of blue flames, but after the celebration of the night with Papa and Mum, Father would be waiting for him by his coffin at sunrise. He would have a coin harvested early from the earth and some gift of his own to give. It was good.
Another was New Year’s Eve. To the boy’s knowledge, this was considered the birthnight of Time itself. He would get to unwrap a fresh calendar to hang and do something called a ‘toast,’ though there was no hot crisp bread involved. Papa would down a glass of something that burned the boy’s nose to smell, then Father, Mum and the boy would take a single quick sip and welcome the New Year. Papa’s blood always tasted different after those drinks, a little singed, but somehow nice and swimmy on the tongue. It was good.  
But the best was Longest Night.
Longest Night was preceded by the crucial private magic of Shortest Day. No one was allowed to be up and awake during the Shortest Day, or else the joys of Longest Night would not happen. The Visitors that came by daylight were swift and skittish and would not stop to deliver their bounty if anyone was up to spy on their work. They might skip by regardless if they were not left the token of food before all were in bed by sunrise.
“What do they eat?”
“Whatever a home has to spare for a plate,” Papa told him. “Sweet things, usually.”
“Like the pep mints?”
“Peppermint, yes. Biscuits, cake, chocolate.”
This had worried the boy at first. Papa tasted sweeter in December from all the Longest Night things he and Mum put together in the kitchen. Once, Papa had been doing something with pieces of fruit, cloves, and spices, the result pouring perfume out of the bowl and through the air. And, perhaps not quite by accident, Papa allowed one of the hard little cloves to cut his thumb.
“Oh dear. Could you help me, Sweetheart?” Under his breath, smiling, “Quick!”
The boy rushed to put his mouth to the cut. Papa’s blood hit his tongue in a new way. He thought of the red-white candy that had shown up after Papa’s last errand—
“You had pep mint!”
“Peppermint. Yes, I did. Is it any good?”
“Have to check.” Another sip. Another. “Checked. Very good.”
“Good.”
Good, but sweet. What if..?
The Visitors will not come for Papa, Dearest.
Mum’s hand on his shoulder, her smile on her face and in her son’s mind.
He is for us alone. Besides, he would not fit on a plate. On that note…
The boy watched his mother’s gaze float to Papa, something of either mercy or conspiracy in her look.
…it need not be desserts alone. It is cold out for those who are not like us, and the Visitors would surely appreciate something with more heat in it. Supposing Papa is willing to part with some of his paprika.
“Absolutely.”
Something to keep in mind for the Eve before Shortest Day. But for now, we need to hunt for the tree.
The tree was very important for the Visitors. They were wild folk who were used to taking and receiving bounty in wilderness. Unless the boy wanted the gifts from them all left piled against some random trunk in the forest, the castle needed a tree of its own. One they could shelter and dress so that there was no mistaking it as the tree to stop for. The boy was scrupulous in seeking this particular quarry. It could not be too tall or too short, too spindly or too thick. There must be no animals living in it, not even the bats; though he knew already from Father that they had all taken off to their caves for the winter. It must be just right.
Eventually they came upon it, powdered in snow and sweet-stinging with its aroma.
This one?
“This one!”
Mum cleaved the trunk from its roots, hoisting it as airily as she might have carried the boy. They returned to the castle and set it within the stand that Papa had built for it. Then came the decoration. Threads of nutshells and dry berries hardened to beads were wound around the boughs, ready to turn to kindling once it came time to break the tree up into firewood. Give or take a few wooden ornaments the boy painted himself. He was still hanging them when Father appeared. Standing and staring and silent as the boy worked.
Father had allowed Longest Night to happen because of Papa. The boy knew so. Young as he was, there were some realities that one accepted without needing the Lesson laid out in words.
It was especially easy to accept as the boy had spoiled his own attempt at wheedling Father about holidays not so long ago. He had found one in a book on a high shelf in the library. The boy had clambered up to it for the sake of its pretty leather spine and flipped through it in awe of its illustrations. One in particular had arrested him. Even what little bits of the poem-story that went with it seemed somehow simpler to ingest than the rest of the dense writing about a king named Arthur and his many legendary knights. The image that held him was all holly greens and reds, with a wide-eyed young man gawking up at an emerald giant in knight’s armor, holding his own severed head as it rained blood. Beyond them, rows of knights and King Arthur himself stared over their banquet tables.
Sir Gawain and the Green Knight had much the same bones as other fairy tales he was privy to, but the boy had caught on a word that had yet to show up anyplace else in his storybooks. A word that carried with it implications of revelry that was meant for adults as much as children, a thing of games and gifts and feasting and joy that nobody grew out of. A miserable fate that seemed to be the case with birthnights. The boy was alone in celebrating his, despite Father, Mum and Papa surely having birthnights of their own. It suggested to him that birthnights would go without celebration on some distant grownup year. But a holiday! Those stuck. And they were for everyone.
All this in mind, he had come to Father with the book under his arm and asked, “What’s Christmas?”
 Father declared that Christmas was two things. First, a dreamed-up fiction for the imaginary knights in the book to celebrate. Second, a topic the boy was not to mention again. Now give him the book, diavol. 
Foolishly, the boy had hugged the book to himself, citing the fact that it was in the library, and Father had said he could read whatever he liked in it, and—
“Boy,” Father had said, soft as a knife cutting snow, “you have a moment to consider whether you wish to disobey me.” Father’s eyes had flared. “There, it has passed. Now give me the book.”
The boy had given it. Father had given it to the fireplace.
Knowing he wasn’t to cry and waste blood, the boy had held his tears in. At least until he was outside, far from the courtyard and tucked up in a tree, weeping until he was the color of Papa’s hair. Mum had found him. They’d returned home only when they felt sunrise plodding toward them. The next nights had been odd. Different in the way they had been after Father had torn Hoppy to shreds.
That time before had ended with Father taking him aside for a lecture on the folly of pining for weak animals that would only break one’s heart with their frailty, capped with the gifting of a wolf crafted from downy fur and glass eyes. The boy had managed to tamp back joyous tears then, embracing his Father through an armful of plush.
The atmosphere of those preceding nights had settled thickly again. And it came, as it had before, from Papa. It was not so fiery as Father’s presence or as icy as Mum’s, but it was there. No one was more aware of it than Father. It might have been funny in a book: Father growing more and more agitated the more sedate Papa turned, until Father was left pacing and fuming while Papa went silent and almost frigid with patience. Until, finally, a week’s worth of nights passed and Papa and Mum came to the boy with talk of Longest Night. A thing left uncelebrated thus far because Father was not one for frivolity and Papa and Mum had left off holidays when they came to live in the castle.
Why?
“Your parents want for so little here, diavol,” Father had broken in, lupine smile back in its place. “It seemed unnecessary for us to bother with such rites. But you are here and young and new enough to want such things.” A clawed hand had flapped as Father dismissed them and himself. “Revel with it as you like.”
 And that had been that.
Now here was Father, scrutinizing the tree, curling his lip at the decoration.
“Is something wrong, Father?”
“Not for me. I am not the one expecting a tree wearing nothing but nuts and berries to stand out from every other in the forest. Even painted, it will hardly catch any Visitor’s eye.”
The boy sat up with a shiver, “It won’t?”
“I am afraid not. Your Papa and your mother, they hail from a choked and choking city with little in the way of nature. It is no wonder any meager flash of green caught attention there. But here, in our verdant mountains, there would need to be more applied. This?” He flicked one of the nutshell cords Mum had helped him with. “Will be as good as invisible.” He held up his hand before the boy could speak. “I have something that may be of use. Supposing you wish to bother with it.”
The boy was already adhered to his side. Off they went, up, up, up to Father’s own bedroom. There, piled in the corner…
“The coins will not hang, of course. But these?” Father hooked a dust-caked golden necklace. A ruby huge as a hen’s egg and bright as his own brooch dangled on it. The boy was already enamored with a chain of twinkling emeralds and a bracelet dewed with diamonds. “If these do not snare attention, the Visitors must be blind.” They were perfect and the boy told him so, pausing in his elation to embrace his Father’s leg tight enough to break an ordinary man’s bones. “Yes, yes. Take your bounty, magpie, and be off.” But Father lingered to watch as the boy loaded himself up with chains and cuffs enough to make him jingle all the way downstairs.
“Mum! Papa! Father had more decorations!”
They saw. Mum kept her expression even while Papa straightened with something like recognition. Yet this moment passed as the work of stringing the gold along the boughs began. The tree glittered and blazed as though it had been crafted by a giant’s jeweler. Given the chance, the boy might have sat up with the tree all day just to stare at it.
“You need to rest, Sweetheart. There’s more to do tomorrow.” Papa held out a sheet of paper and a sharpened crayon. “Remember?”
The boy squirreled himself away with the stationery, scribbling carefully in his coffin. Another important thing to remember about Longest Night was that the Visitors were not like himself or Mum or Father. They couldn’t just dip into someone’s mind and know what they wanted. If the boy did not write out what he wished for and have it sent out, the Visitors would be left to guess. Papa was entrusted with delivering his list in the post on his next errand in town. Father even let him seal the envelope with his own stamp, the wax writhing with a scarlet dragon.
With that done, now he had to consider what gifts he would bring to the tree. For the Visitors were not responsible for every present brought. Families wrapped and traded gifts among themselves too. But oh! What could he give that his parents, who wanted for nothing in the castle? Worse, how could he do what even the Visitors couldn’t, and guess the answers? He was not as smooth as Mum or Father when he peeked into a mind; even Papa caught him at it. There was simply no knowing without being found out. So…
“Mum?”
Yes?
“If…someone wanted to get you something for Longest Night, what would it be?”
 I need nothing and want little, Mum assured, her hand soft in his hair. But I suppose if I had to want something, it would be my loves, safe and happy.
That hardly narrowed it down, but the boy didn’t say so. He went to Papa.
“Papa, is there anything you want that you didn’t ask the Visitors for?”
“My family safe and happy.”
“No, I mean something that can go in a box.”
“Do you not still fit in the coffin?”
The boy huffed away, still puzzling. Surely Father would have something he wanted. Father was never satisfied. There had to be something he—
“The things I want are not delivered to me, diavol. If I want a thing, I take it. Besides,” Father’s teeth shined bright and sharp as icicles, “I have you and your mother and dear Papa. You are gifts that give every night in new and wonderful ways. As to anything I want beyond that?” A shrug. “Those will come to me in time. …Oh dear, such a look. Whatever is the matter, child?”
“I can’t wrap any of that! Mum and Papa didn’t say anything I could wrap either! Longest Night is only a few weeks away and I don’t know what to make or to find or—or anything!” He stared glumly out the frosted window as the moon stared glumly back. “I don’t want to be the only one who doesn’t give anything.”
“Mm. So you shouldn’t. Folk such as the Visitors do take such a sour turn if they think they spy someone being selfish. Yes,” Father nodded with solemn weight, “you must have something to offer. I dread to think what would happen if the Visitors discovered you left your poor parents with nothing. Come.” Father rose and turned on his heel. The boy scrambled after him. “We shall find them something fitting.”
Again, the trip to Father’s chambers. The boy left it beaming, his new treasure hidden inside a blanket.
“But Father, this is all for Mum and Papa. What about yours?”
Father only grinned, insisting, “The Visitors know I am lord of this castle and Count of these lands. I would draw ire myself if I went bothering anyone for excess. No, diavol, that you would give these gifts from my hand and yours is fine enough.”
Time passed. Games were played. No titanic knights came around asking to have his head lopped off, thankfully. Although the boy did treat himself to one snowman he dappled all over with coniferous green before knocking its head off with a twig.
Other than that, he built up a whole snow family with Papa. Father took him flying to see the entire valley from above, mute and lovely in its winter white. Mum started a snowball battle with him that stretched for some nights off and on. It might have been shorter had Father not joined his side and made a war of things. And that too might have ended in a short victory if Father were not distracted by the boulder of a snowball that struck him from behind. Papa dashed away from his vantage point and into the trees. Father, being himself, gave snarling grinning chase. While they were off playing hunt, the boy pleaded a tired and happy truce to Mum. Towards dawn, Father tromped home with ice on his boots and Papa in his arms, drowsy and swaddled in Father’s cloak.
After that was the Eve before Shortest Day.
The boy could scarcely sit still all night. He would swear the clocks were going slower and that Father was somehow stretching the night out even further by covering up both moonrise and sunrise with extra helpings of cloud. It wasn’t until Mum and Papa sat by the fire for stories that he ceased fretting. This was Longest Night tradition as well.
“I thought grownups always did story time all quiet, reading to themselves.”
“Usually we do. But on this evening, and on through the last nights of the year, we like to tell stories to each other.”
Often frightening ones. We understand if you do not wish to listen.
But the boy was already in Mum’s lap, sharp ears up and mind alert. Mum told her stories. The boy shuddered through some and gasped over others.
Would you like to stop?
“No…” came from under the boy’s blanket.
…Would you like Papa to tell one?
“I’d be happy t—,” The boy popped his head out the blanket and twisted in his mother’s lap. Papa told his stories. They were not half so scary as Mum’s. A few even made him laugh. It was at the end of one of these that he heard the rooster outside begin to crow. The boy sat up as if pinched and went running to the nearest window. Too many clouds and a new swirling of snow and no hint of daylight yet, but the rooster always knew when the sun was coming. It was time.
“The plate! Mum, Papa, we need to set out the plate!” They set it out. A thing with biscuits and hendl and a helping of hot chocolate in a little cup. The boy pinned a note of thanks under fork for good measure. “I’m ready to sleep now.”
Dearest, the sun isn’t even up. Are you sure?
“Very sure. It’s time for everyone to sleep. Please.”
“Mm,” Papa nodded. “And you won’t be up running circles around the vault past sunrise?”
“No. I’m going right to sleep.”
Some hours and a sunrise later, the boy was up and pacing. Just to tire himself. That was all.
That doesn’t feel like sleeping.
The boy returned to his coffin. It was tricky to lay there with all the secret flotsam hidden inside with him. He managed to keep his eyes shut until roughly noon. Then he went slinking toward the stairs. Just to see if the Visitors had come. Nothing more. Nothing—
“Were you going somewhere, diavol?” This time the boy almost yelped aloud. Father almost never bothered to be awake during the day. But for Shortest Day, he had sat and lurked upon the stair. Waiting. “Were you?”
“No, Father.”
“You were just stretching your legs, perhaps?”
“Yes, Father.”
“Good. I was stretching mine too. Now sleep.”
The boy dragged himself back to his coffin and flopped despondently into his covers. Shortest Day was a lie, he decided. It was actually the Longest Day. Perhaps even an eternal one. It would never ever end and he would be doomed to toss and turn in the coffin forever and ever and…
He woke to the tell-tale shift of day falling to dusk. It bristled in his bones. Carefully, carefully, the boy peeked from his coffin. Mum and Father were still in asleep. He gathered up his hoard of gifts and crept on half-mist feet up the stairs and away to the tree. Elation almost made him fumble the crookedly wrapped packages.
The Visitors had come and gone. Presents stood waiting under the twinkling branches. The plate and cup were empty. Scrawled on his own note in tiny block letters was a message of thanks in return from the Visitors; they looked forward to next year’s trip. The boy snatched the note up for his pocket, tucked his gifts behind the tree, and ran.
Up to the tower, dashing to Papa’s bed. How could he still be asleep!?
“Papa! Papa, Papa, Papa—,”
“Yes, yes, yes?” Papa asked into his pillow.
“They came! The Visitors came and it’s Longest Night! You have to get up, come look!”
Papa lurched upright, bloodshot but smiling.
“I’ll be down soon. I have to put my coffee on. Are we the only ones up?”
“I’ll get Mum and Father!”
And he raced away before Papa had gotten both feet on the floor. He paused only for another giddy glance at the tree, then onward again. Mum was already sitting up in her coffin, taking a moment to stretch and stand.
“Mum!”
Yes?
“It’s Longest Night!”
So it is. Did the Visitors come by?
“Yes! There’s so much and it’s so pretty and Papa is getting up but he has to do his coffee first and Mum you have to go look at the tree and is Father up yet?” He wasn’t. Mum watched the boy lunge toward the great black coffin. The boy pressed himself right up to the lid, whisper-shouting, “Father. Father, it’s Longest Night. Are you up, Father? Father, you have to get up, come see! Father, Father, Father, Father—,”
The lid opened a crack. A red eye gleamed.
“I will rise when it is time I rise. Go with your mother.”
The lid closed.
Mother and son went up. Papa was there, a steaming cup in hand.
Counting a missing head, Papa asked, “Did he want us to wait?”
“Wait for what?”
Papa and the boy jumped. Mum narrowed her eyes. Father was in the room and wearing a robe the boy had never seen before. A thing of deep arterial scarlet lined in ermine. He dragged the largest armchair up to sit and watch as the boy assailed the bounty around the tree. Toys and books and a new little fishing pole and a music box and a dozen other fun little oddments were waiting, some from the Visitors, others from his parents. The boy was so dazed by it all that he nearly forgot his own part. Nearly.
“Your turn!” the boy announced to Mum and Papa who had just taken their own seats after clearing the mess away as paper flew. The boy took his own offerings from behind the tree and placed them proudly in their laps. Father’s grin sharpened as Mum and Papa unwrapped two leatherbound journals with fine fountain pens to match. “Father helped me find them. He said you were both such good writers when you all first met, but lost your diaries when you came to live in the castle. And see!” He shuffled some of the gifts aside to dredge up his own new sketchpad. “We can all do writing and drawing together! I want to make a book, maybe.”
Mum and Papa continued to smile, but a flint of hardness passed in her eyes and a melting fatigue polished his.
You would make a wonderful author, Dearest. You could illustrate your own adventures.
The boy pretended not to notice how her claws pricked the cover as she set the journal aside. Papa put his own down gently. His hand now free, he laid it on the boy’s shoulder.
“Are you forgetting one, Sweetheart?”
“Oh!” He was. The boy ducked back around the tree and came up with the third gift; one Father did not know of. Father’s grin actually faltered as the boy rushed up with the little package in hand. A tiny box smothered in butcher paper. The boy bounced on his heels as Father opened it with agonizing slowness. The paper revealed box of weathered secondhand shop velvet. This had not come from the boy, but his Papa. The gift inside had his touch too. “Papa waded out to get them before the river iced up. They came out all clean from the water.” Father said nothing, casting a steady glance at the back of Papa’s head. Papa nursed his coffee from one hand and twined his other with Mum’s. Father switched the box from his right to his left hand and gingerly wedged it open with his thumb.
Inside, gold shined in the shape of two coins. Their already-rough images were smoothed from the river and the metal was brighter than any token Father had dug up from under his blue flames. He stared at one and the other, turning them in his fingers.
“…These are quite old,” he said at last. “My own father would know them only from memory.”
“Papa said they were special since the blue flames wouldn’t show up over anything but dry ground to tell where treasure was, so those,” the boy pointed to the coins, “would’ve been hidden forever if they stayed stuck in the riverbed. And he taught me how to do buying with them.”
“It was a bargain,” Papa hummed. “I bought such a fine piece of quartz off you with my two little coins. Practically a steal.” So saying, Papa cast a smiling glance at Mum. Mum cast her own back, turning her gift from Papa over and over in her free hand, the firelight filling its pale crystal like magic. It turned out that Papa had taken the lump of quartz into town to have a man chip it into the shape of an owl for Mum. Mum had written Papa a slim storybook all her own and it now sat tucked within Papa’s robe, flat against his heart.
“A steal you say,” Father huffed. “It might be, if my eyes do not deceive me. Or have I gone without a gift from my friend and the mother of our son?”
Your eyes deceive you, Mum intoned, her gaze still firmly nailed to the clear stone owl. The gift is from us both. In the tree.
Father and the boy looked up. A large envelope the color of ivory balanced in the branches, wrapped in a red ribbon.
“I can get it!” The boy misted his way up for it, pondering the crinkling weight inside. He turned it over to find Mum’s own elegant swirling script penned along the flap.
For Future Consideration
—J, M
Father took the envelope from him with even gentler, almost tentative care. He even sniffed it. Mum and Papa gave him only an idle glance. The boy fidgeted again.
“I can open it if you want.” He reached for the ribbon. Father swatted at his knuckles.
“Shoo, thief. Go play with your own spoils.” The boy retracted his hand and even went to sit among his presents, but his eyes stayed with Father and his gift. After some endless seconds, the red ribbon fell away, the envelope was opened, and out came…paper. A thick sheet so large that it had to be folded twice to fit within its broad container. Father frowned at this until he opened the entire thing. For once, the smile on his face seemed actually to reach his eyes.
“Father, what is it?”
“Art,” Father beamed. “Of a very particular kind. Perhaps intended to lure me away to France.”
“What?”
Father turned the paper around. It was a poster done in reds and blacks, showing a smiling woman with a narrow sword on a stage. A man had dropped flat past her feet while beyond them an audience sat and watched. There was another man dangling by a rope around his neck, looking annoyed. Above it all were the words Le Grand Guignol on a banner. It looked scary, but the style of it made the boy think of the funny comics Papa let him clip out of his newspapers. Light, almost silly, like the fearful things were there for the crowd to enjoy. The lady with the blade certainly seemed happy.
“It is for a certain theatre recently founded in Paris,” Father went on, raising an eyebrow again at Mum’s writing on the envelope. “They put on the most amusing plays, I’ve heard.” His gaze leveled first at Mum, then at Papa. “This is a fine thing to consider. Perhaps as a family outing some night.”
The boy sprang up.
“When?”
“When you are old enough, diavol.”
“But how long until that?”
“Long enough that you need not fret about it for some time, Sweetheart. Now, would you be kind enough to hand me one of the ribbons from your pile?” The boy wondered at Papa, though not deep enough to spy in his head. There was a surprise pacing somewhere behind the clear eyes. Another red ribbon was fetched. Papa took it and bound it around his wrist in a bow. It covered half of the boy’s past kisses. “Longest Night comes with feasting. I must fill myself up before I can be decanted.”
Mum and Papa took themselves to the kitchen and the boy followed at their heels. In time, Papa found himself seated at the dining table, trying to both stuff and pace himself between different portions, some heady, some sweet, some rich. He sipped a creamy drink with a funny name—the boy would whisper nog nog nog to himself off and one for the next few days in his coffin, giggling over the sound—and a little of cider and of chocolate and, when Father set down a gleaming bottle of it, something called Tokay.
Eventually Papa pulled away from the table, sighing.
“No more. I will burst.” He unwrapped the ribbon from himself and tucked down the heavy robe’s collar. “I fear I might sleep until the New Year after this.”
“You will do no such thing, my friend,” Father murmured into his neck. “We shall roll you down the stairs if need be.” He slipped his teeth into the bend between Papa’s throat and shoulder. The boy thought he did so with a lighter kiss than usual, almost nipping in the way of a wolf nibbling at his kin in play. Blood welled just the same and Father lapped it clean. Mum went next, just as gentle, nursing in a steady stream. When she pulled away it was with a bloodless kiss to Papa’s jaw.
Thank you, Darling.
Last came the boy, fitting himself carefully on Papa’s wrist. He couldn’t say whether it was the bliss of the holiday or the seasoning of Papa’s meal or some dizzying blend of both, but the kiss tasted better even than his birthnight sip after Papa had sampled the cake. The boy sucked every droplet from his teeth and gums, savoring as best he could.
“That was a really really good kiss, Papa. Is that part of Longest Night too?”
“Perhaps,” Papa said sleepily. “Or else it was the nog.” The word set the boy snickering into his hands again. The Longest Night unspooled and the boy swore again the names must be tricks. How else to explain how infinite the Shortest Day felt and how brief the Longest Night was? Too soon he felt the sunrise coming to herd everyone away to bed. Mum walked with Papa up to the tower. Before the boy could follow up and give his good days, Father halted him with a long white hand at his shoulder.
“Leave them for now, child. There is something waiting for you below.” The boy fought against the urge to race down and ahead. He stayed dutifully parallel to his Father’s long strides, hustling in his own short steps to keep pace. Down in the vault they strolled up to Father’s coffin. “I had my own trouble sleeping during the day. Such was why I was up on the stairs. I believe there is some lump in there that bothered me. Can you see it?”
Father lifted the lid. The boy saw.
Here was the last gift, another tell-tale rectangle whose solid weight spoke to a book hidden in its skin of crimson paper. The boy unwrapped it delicately at first, then in an unstoppable gleeful rush.
Sir Gawain and the Green Knight was in his hands again, this time only a solitary volume in its immaculate cover of gold and green foil lettering. He saw it was still made thick with artwork in a spread of fantastical painted visions.
“I shall be glad to bring you all of King Arthur’s legends should you still wish them some night in the future. Such are an old and favorite collection of myths penned in your Papa’s distant England, but many tales are not quite suited for a child. I had thought I’d made the library safe for your eyes and burned my mistake to spare you. But this?” Father tapped the cover with his claw. “This I shall be happy to read and explain, should you desire its deeper meanings. But the lesson at its very top is something clear even to one so young.” Fangs flashed and eyes burned. “The weak live by the mercy of Powers greater than themselves.” The smile softened then, almost musing. “And I suppose the illustrations are to be commended if nothing else.”
The boy nodded at all of this but found his throat too tight to form words. He peered up at his Father’s face, high as the moon above him. His eyes asked. Father nodded and opened his arms. The boy leapt up and locked his small arms as far around Father’s shoulders as they could reach. Father held him close in turn. His throat stayed strangled with heat and his eyes threatened to betray him with the ruby twinkle of tears. He fought them back.
“Thank you, Father. I love it.” His face buried in the black fall of hair, his brow rasped against the trimmed wilderness of winter’s growing beard. “I love you.”
Father was quiet for a moment. His down-spotted hand stroked the small curve of the boy’s head.
“I love you too, diavol. Happy Longest Night.”
The boy wished him the same. He gave his love and his happy wishes to Mum on the way back up, racing against dawn.
Hurry, Dearest. He was half-asleep when I left him.
The boy all but flew. Papa was in bed, eyes still open for him. If only just.
“Did you enjoy your first Longest Night?”
“It was better than anything I thought it’d be, Papa. Why haven’t we done this before?”
“You were a babe,” Papa smiled, eyelids drooping, “and your parents had forgotten celebrations for quite some time. I cannot speak for Father, but your Mum and I did not have much celebration even when we were small. Our lives were very thin as children and stayed much the same as we grew up.”
“But then you met Father,” the boy beamed. “You came to the castle where everything is and he loved you like the princes in the books do.”
“…Yes. He did. And I loved your Mum. And now we live in the castle, where everything is, love and all. And where we forgot much of holidays, for there was no point to them. Not here.” Papa’s hand settled on him, light and cool as snow. His eyes shined like wet ice. Perhaps quartz. “Not until you. We might never have remembered the 21st of December without you, son. Thank you. Come here.” The boy came, folding himself into his Papa’s arms under the covers. His ear pressed to the faint drumming of the man’s heart. “I love you, Sweetheart. So much.”
“I love you too, Papa.”
“Mm.”
“Happy Longest Night.”
“Happy Longest Night…”
Soon Papa was asleep. His chest lifted and dropped with his breath, the boy clinging to him and the sound. He left a bloodless kiss on his Papa’s cheek as the first rays of sun arrived, lining the mountains in gold.
Down the steps.
Into the coffin.
The boy laid his head down and began to dream of the next Longest Night.
(This goes out to @ibrithir-was-here in particular. Happy Nearly Birthday, Merry Christmas, and a gothically grim-sweet Longest Night to you, friend.)
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