#glass knobs australia

[maideondemand]

Best Oven Cleaning Service In Sydney

Best Oven Cleaning Service In Sydney

Advantages of Hiring Professional Oven Cleaners

Experience the following benefits when you choose our professional oven cleaning services:

Thorough Cleaning: Our cleaners are adept at removing all detachable parts and ensuring a meticulous cleaning of both the interior and exterior surfaces. We meticulously scour the glass door and polish all stainless steel parts, restoring your oven’s shine.

Non-Toxic Products: Your safety is our primary concern. That’s why we use safe, environmentally friendly products that are not harmful in any way. Our non-caustic, rust-free, and eco-friendly cleaning solutions ensure both hygiene and the well-being of your family.

Certified Cleaners: Our team consists of fully insured, police-verified, and highly trained professionals. You can trust us to deliver the highest standard of service, ensuring your oven are odour- and germ-free.

Quality Support: We take pride in our excellent customer care. Our polite and courteous customer care executives are available to address all your queries and provide competent assistance throughout your cleaning process.

Proven Methods: We follow tried and tested procedures to remove built-up grease, grime, burned food particles, and germs from your beloved kitchen appliances. Our cleaning methods ensure optimal results and leave your oven spotless.

How Can We Help?

At Maid On Demand Australia, we know exactly how to safely remove oily grunge from all parts of your ovens, providing you with a hygienic and healthy cooking appliance. Our expert services are affordable, ensuring you can easily enjoy the benefits of professional oven cleaning.

Advanced Oven Cleaning in Sydney

Our services go above and beyond as we meticulously clean every inch of your appliance, including knobs, racks, and burners. This attention to detail enhances the energy efficiency of your oven and prolongs its lifespan. Our regular maintenance ensures a germ-free and toxin-free environment. With our expert services, your oven will be fume-free and perfectly sanitised for immediate use. We pride ourselves on leaving no mess behind, always cleaning the area before we bid you goodbye.

Why Choose Oven Cleaning with Maid On Demand in Sydney?

When you choose our oven cleaning services, you can expect:

Training Professionals: Our cleaners are specialised in cleaning ovens with extra care, ensuring they shine like new.

Budget-Friendly: Our services are affordable, providing you with exceptional value for your investment.

Eco-Friendly: We use chemical-free and safe products that leave no odours or toxins behind, prioritising the health of your family and the environment.

Premium Quality: We take extra measures to remove all trays and degrease the grill of your appliances, ensuring a deep and thorough cleaning.

We Know Our Job Well: With our flawless oven cleaning services, you can trust us to deliver exceptional results every time.

Experience the most family-friendly oven cleaning in Sydney. Contact us today to get a free quote and schedule your oven cleaning appointment.

Inclusions and Exclusions: Oven Cleaning Service

At Maid On Demand, our Oven Cleaning service is designed to provide a comprehensive deep clean of your oven, ensuring it meets the highest standards of cleanliness. Below are the inclusions and exclusions of our service:

General Inclusions: – Removal of cobwebs, insect marks, and small nests where pest control is not warranted – Cleaning of fans, air conditioners, and filters – Cleaning of light fittings (where safely removable and accessible) – Spot cleaning of walls, light switches, and power points – Cleaning of skirting, architraves, and doors – Cleaning of drawers and cupboards, including inside, doors, cupboard tops, and shelving – Cleaning of windows on both sides (exclusions apply for heights and accessibility) – Vacuuming and cleaning of sliding door tracks – Spot cleaning and dusting of standard blinds, cords, and rails – Vacuuming of all floors and carpets mopping of hard floors

Kitchen Inclusions: – Cleaning inside, outside, and on top of all cupboards, doors, and drawers – Cleaning inside, outside, and around the stovetop, elements, rings, and knobs – Cleaning inside, outside, and behind the oven, griller, doors, trays, racks, glass, and knobs – Cleaning inside, outside, and behind the refrigerator*, dishwasher*, and microwave* space (if applicable) – Cleaning and drying of sinks, drain holes, drainers, and polishing of tapware – Cleaning of range hood exhaust and filter (filter can be removed and cleaned) – Cleaning and polishing of the splashback area

Bathroom Inclusions: – Cleaning of exhaust fans – Cleaning inside and outside all cupboards and drawers – Cleaning of the toilet, including behind the S bend, around the cistern, and under and around the toilet seat – Cleaning of the bath and shower recess, removal of built-up soap residue on tiles and shower screens, and cleaning of the soap holder – Cleaning of the sink, polishing of all tapware, and towel rails – Cleaning of mirrors, windows, window tracks, and floors

Laundry Inclusions: – Cleaning inside and outside all cupboards and drawers – Cleaning inside, outside, and behind the dryer (removal of lint if applicable) – Cleaning inside, outside, and around the laundry tub, cabinets, shelves, drawers, and tapware – Cleaning behind the washing machine space, equipment, and filters (if applicable) – Cleaning of all walls, windows, window tracks, and floors

Garage Inclusions: – Sweeping of the floor and removal of cobwebs

Patio Inclusions: – Sweeping and mopping of floors; removal of cobwebs

Please note the following additional information: – For furnished properties, additional inclusions and a separate quote will be provided, as the time required may vary. – Dusting and wiping over furniture surfaces are included for furnished properties. – Kitchen cupboards will be cleaned if ALL ITEMS are removed and placed in front of the cupboard. We do not take responsibility for any damage or breakage to cupboard items. – Standard blinds are included, while venetian and roller blinds will be quoted separately based on the number of blinds in the property. – Cleaning behind or around heavy objects over 5 kg (as per our Terms and Conditions) must be moved by the client to allow our cleaners access for cleaning.

Please ensure you review your quote to confirm the specific inclusions for your oven cleaning service. At Maid On Demand, we utilise the latest cleaning techniques and products. However, please note that certain items may exhibit ‘normal wear and tear,’ which may limit our ability to restore them.

to a new condition. Before and after photos will be taken for some items to demonstrate to the Managing Agent the best possible condition without specialist intervention.

For any additional speciality services like pest control, pressure cleaning, or upholstery cleaning, please let us know, and we will provide a separate quote accordingly.

Cleaning behind or around these items or any heavy objects (over 5 kg) must be moved by the client (and put back if applicable) to allow our cleaners access for cleaning, as per our Terms and Conditions.

Additional Services: Bond Cleaning

At Maid On Demand, we offer a range of additional services to complement our Spring Cleaning service. These services are quoted separately and will appear as separate items on your quote. Please note that if a service is not listed on your quote, it is not included in the package. The following are some of the additional services we provide:

Carpet Cleaning: Professional cleaning of carpets to remove stains and deeply embedded dirt Please note that stain removal may require a separate treatment.

Blinds (e.g., Venetians): Cleaning of blinds, including Venetian blinds, to remove dust and grime

Pool Maintenance: Cleaning and maintenance services for your pool to ensure it is in top condition

Garden Maintenance: Services to maintain and enhance the appearance of your garden, including pruning, weeding, and lawn mowing

Rubbish Removal: Disposal of unwanted items and general rubbish from your property

Furnished Properties: Cleaning services tailored to furnished properties, taking into account the presence of furniture and décor,

Pest Control: Professional pest control services to eliminate and prevent infestations

Upholstery Cleaning: Cleaning of upholstered furniture to remove dirt, stains, and odours

Pressure Cleaning: High-pressure cleaning of surfaces such as driveways, pathways, and outdoor areas to remove dirt, grime, and stains

Please note that the above list is not exhaustive, and we can provide other speciality services upon request. These may include household repairs, painting, and more. If you have specific requirements beyond our standard offerings, please let us know, and we will provide a customised quote.

Bond Cleaning Exclusions

The following items are excluded from our Bond Cleaning service:

Mould: While we make every effort to remove mould, areas with embedded mould in silicon, grout, or other materials may require specialist intervention for complete restoration.

Damp Spots: Damp spots, especially on drywall plaster, can be challenging to eliminate completely. Marks may return quickly due to excess moisture.

Complete Wall Clean: Our service includes spot cleaning of walls for insect marks. A full wall cleaning is only necessary if marks exist beyond normal wear and tear.

Discoloration: Normal wear and tear can lead to discoloration of grout, toilets, and plastics, which may not be reversible without specialist intervention.

Tile and Natural Rock Stains: Stains on tiles or natural rock surfaces may be difficult to remove completely due to their composition and porosity.

Ceilings: We do not clean ceilings as part of our Bond Cleaning service.

Dangerous Areas: Our cleaners will not operate in areas deemed dangerous, such as those with broken power points, bio waste, or other hazards.

Heights: Cleaning at heights, including second-floor windows in unit complexes, will not be performed as it requires ladder use.

Garage Walls: We do not clean garage walls or floors.

Specialist Services: Special cleaning equipment, chemicals, or trained technicians may be required for certain areas, such as pressure cleaning grease on garage floors or extensive wall cleaning by painters or plasterers.

Additional Items: Items like fridges or furniture not included in the inclusions list will not be cleaned unless agreed upon in writing.

Furnished Property Exclusions: We do not clean or warrant decorative items such as “nick knacks,” picture frames, vases, lamps, clocks, fruit bowls, or linen in furnished properties.

Please ensure you review your quote to confirm the specific inclusions and exclusions for your Bond Cleaning service. If you have any questions or require further clarification, our team is ready to assist you.

[showerscreenseals]

How Frameless Shower Doors Beautify a House?

Glass hardware is essential for both practicality and style in a variety of settings, including commercial and domestic restrooms. Frameless shower doors are among the most often used applications of glass hardware. For stability and convenience of use, these sleek and contemporary shower screens depend on a variety of hardware elements. Hinges come in a variety of finishes, including chrome, satin chrome, polished nickel, brushed brass, and white, and are a necessary component of frameless shower doors. These are also available in a variety of sorts, such as 90-, 180-, and 135-degree versions, to meet the specific needs for a smooth door swing.

Shower screens online in Australia is available from leading brands and they sell seals, knobs, brackets, and other parts as they as they are also required for the flawless functioning of shower doors, in addition to hinges. The door's pivot point is provided by pivot hinges, and the glass panels are firmly held in place by brackets. Towel rails give a practical place to hang towels, while knobs and handles provide comfortable grips for opening and shutting the door. Contemporary glass showers may be really lovely since they increase the sense of space and enhance the aesthetics of the home's bathroom.

A Catalogue of Items Provided by the Top Glass Hardware Product Vendors

Headers and Bracing Bars: These parts, which offer stability and structural support, are crucial to frameless shower screens. Installed at the summit of the shower inclosure, headers are horizontal bars that support and balance the enclosure's weight. In order to further improve the stability of the shower screen, bracing bars are vertical bars that join the header to the floor or wall.

Handrail Fittings: Handrails are yet another crucial part of glass hardware, particularly in locations like staircases and swimming pools where people's safety is at risk. A few of the necessary fitting components include square straight joiners, square wall brackets, and square end caps.

To get the greatest things for your bathroom and pool, get in touch with the top seller of these items and look through their catalogue.

  Source

[aesthetichomerenovations]

How to Decorate a Bathroom on a Budget

Changing the appearance of your bathroom can be a daunting task. However, it is not always necessary to spend a lot of money. With a few basic ideas, you can transform your space into a beautiful room for much less. Adding color, light and texture can help you achieve a look you'll love.

One of the easiest ways to create a new look for your bathroom on a budget is to invest in new hardware. This includes sink faucets, toilet flush handles and cabinet knobs. Refinishing your bathtub and shower can also be a great way to save money. New lighting fixtures, such as a chandelier or sconce, can dramatically change the mood and feel of your bathroom.

Another inexpensive upgrade is to paint your floorboards. You can use paint specifically designed for floors, which is much more durable. Painting your tiles can also be a simple and inexpensive way to refresh the look of your bathroom. The brighter the color, the larger the room will appear. To paint the floorboards, use the best wood paint.

Another inexpensive upgrade is to purchase a new set of towels. Buying fluffy towels will add a soft touch to your bathroom. Also, buying new shower curtains can make a big difference. Shower curtains come in a variety of textures and designs, so you can find one that will complement your decor.

If you're not sure what type of hardware you need for your bathroom, check out stores that sell ex-display items. These are often surplus stock that are no longer being sold. Check the store's policy and see if they still have the warranty on the item.

Inexpensive updates for your bathroom can include purchasing a combination vanity and basin. A combination vanity allows you to save space while providing you with a functional toilet and vanity unit. Installing a glass door can also save you money.

Creating a gallery wall can be an easy way to update a neutral bathroom. You can purchase small framed artwork for the wall. You can also purchase a large print for the same effect.

Houseplants can bring nature into your home. Plants can also add visual impact, color and texture to your bathroom. Not only do plants provide a sense of calm and freshness, they also detoxify your space.

Whether you're redecorating your entire bathroom or just a small portion, you can find plenty of great ideas that won't break the bank. If you're on a tight budget, however, it's best to start small. Small upgrades, such as a new sink faucet, towel racks, toilet paper holder, and robe hooks can change the feel of your space without spending a ton of money.

Finally, if you want to make your bathroom a place of relaxation, consider adding a walk in shower. There are prefabricated showers that are less expensive than a tiled shower. Using a long neck light fixture can help cast adequate light over your medicine cabinet.

When you're ready to take the plunge, consider consulting a designer. A professional can help you create a design that will suit your needs and your budget. It can cost between $100 and $125 for a one-hour consultation.

Aesthetic Home Renovations will take care of everything your needs in Home Renovation Services in Australia. Call our team today to book and we excel in providing a vast range of building solutions.

[casadecorindia-blog]

Glass Knobs and Pulls | Crystal Knobs and Pulls |  Glass Cabinet Knobs Online

At Casa Decor, we pride ourselves on the quality of our handcrafted glass cabinet knobs and pulls, handles, and other hardware. View our collections online at casadecor.store

[king-star]

From Russia With Love

Warning: Blood, violence, mild suggestive jokes

Match: Bond!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Genre: Angst/fluff

A/N: This was inspired by a suggestion from my lovely friend @subjectac7 and the fact i watched black widow and No time to die in the same day. At some point i may actually write a part 2

Word Count: ~2000

At this point the amount of times you had “retired” was comical. When you had gone into M’s office and placed down the paper officially giving your notice for retirement he’d nearly laughed.

“Retiring again so soon 007? It’s only been a year and a half since the last time,”

his hand swished the contents of his shot glass while he kicked his feet on the table.

“Where is it this time? Jamaica? No no I believe we’ve already soul searched Jamaica. How about Australia? They have many islands where you can live out your days in a cabana, making love to women and drinking your martinis; Shaken not stirred. That is, of course, until some world saving mission drags you back and you humour us for another couple years,”

You screwed up your face at his words. You knew they were true. Despite all attempts to let your license to kill expire, you always wound up back here. In M’s office, feebly attempting to impress Moneypenny with your scarily accurate aim and poking fun at Q as he fitted you with new toys for supposed “suicide” mission. Because despite all your skill and innumerable declarations of death there were two things you knew for certain in this ever changing world: the greed of mankind would never cease to amaze. And this was a business you were never free of until you truly stopped breathing.

Still, you tried. Abs here you were. Not in Jamaica or Australia, but Norway. You had contacted many “friends” and set up a completely self sustaining home in a small town in Norway.

You were on your way to town. Your grey Aston Martin stowed away in the garage and traded for a simpler jeep. An older jeep but still a jeep. The car hummed loudly as cool air whipped through your loose hair. It was chilly, being September, but it felt good. Today was Friday. Fish Fry Friday. The day of the week your favourite restaurant opted for a more British approach to handling their fish. So trading in your normal canned soup for fresh caught fish and chips you'd climbed into the car and made the small journey to town.

Your Jeep came to a loud stop as you pulled into the restaurant parking lot. You stepped out into the night, wrapping your arms around yourself and pulling your puffy coat tighter to your goose bump speckled skin. Your hand reached for the door knob and you jiggled it. You found it to be locked. Your head turned over your shoulder where the neon “open” sign announced it was open for business. It was dead, and on the other side of the glass a message was taped.

“Sorry, Usual fish fry canceled due to shortage of catches today. Come again nect week”

You groaned deeply and kicked the ground. Hungry and defeated your eyes turned to the only place that would still be open this late. You dragged your feet as you walked into the beer stained, stuffy bar.

“One scotch, on the rocks,”

The bartender nodded and poured you a glass of scotch. You nodded and handed them the cash, scanning the bar for a place to sit. As you scanned your eyes landed on a red head in a long sleeve grey shirt. Even through the long sleeves her toned muscles were obvious. Normally you weren't attracted to women with strength that threatened to match your own, though you certainly had no objection to it. You took your glass and sauntered over to the table she was sat at.

“Mind if I join you?”

She looked up, ready to object, then realising this truly was the only open seat in the packed bar nodded a yes.

“Drinking alone?”

Her unfriendly demeanor had been so strong that when she willingly started a conversation it surprised.

“We’re all sharing a drink called loneliness, but it's better than drinking alone.”

She screwed up her face at the comment.

“You don't seem the Billy Joel type I must say,”

You laughed and took a sip of your drink.

“I’m not. Just someone who drinks in bars a lot. Piano man is a particular favourite of struggling performers who hope to make it big just like good ole Billy.”

She laughed, and the reaction surprised you more than even her starting the conversation.

“Never seen you around here before. You new, Queen Elisabeth?”

You rolled your eyes at the knock on your accent.

“As you so kindly pointed out, I’m not from around here.”

You knew your British accent did not blend at all with the friendly tone of the Norwegian’s.

“I moved to an off grid cabin about two months ago. What about you,”

You weren’t going to mention it but her accent was obviously American born and bred. There was something off about it though. Something that greatly rubbed you the wrong way but you couldn’t place.

“Ah yes. I’m from America. I moved up here for college three years ago and decided to stay after I graduated. I actually live in an airstream about 10 miles west of town,”

You nodded and took a sip of your drink. You realised suddenly that the two of you might be neighbours. The man who had set you up with the house had mentioned a few others lived in clearings of the wooded areas in the few miles that surrounded your house.

“That’s funny… I live out there too. Maybe we're neighbours,”

You both wanted to laugh at the comment but something about the unlikeliness of that coincidence had your guard up. Then she laughed and startled you greatly as a hand was set on your shoulder.

“Sorry I just realised. I forgot to ask your name,”

She smiled at you expectantly. You pondered the seemingly innocent request.

“Bond. Y/N Bond,”

She contemplated for a moment then reached out a hand.

“Natalia Rachmaninoff,”

You took her hand and shook it firmly.

“Like the composer?”

She just laughed at the comment and took a sip of her drink. The highly Russian origins of her name had your brain putting pieces together. Then it hit you. The tinge to her voice that you couldn’t quite place. All the skills in the world could never hide the round throaty accent of Russians from its almost polar opposite of an American accent. You downed the rest of your drink and then set it on the table.

“Your name is very slavic for being an American. Your family from there?”

Her eyes widened and though she controlled her breathing you could see a slight shake to her.

“Yes. My mother came from a town few miles west of St. Petersburg.”

You nodded and looked at her with an unimpressed face. Her lies weren’t believable. Whoever she was she wasn’t American but she definitely was a novice.

“Mhm. So are you going to tell me who you really are and who you are working for?”

You were met with an answer just not the one you wanted. She stood up and overturned the table moving to run towards the door. Yells were heard as the other people in the bar watched her run. No one parted the way and thus she was slowed down. You nearly caught up to her, slowed by the crowded bar as well.

She ripped open the door and ran out into the night. You reached for a gun at your hollister but since moving to Norway you’d lost the habit of carrying one. Natalia sprinted off towards a white land rover at an impressive pace.

You threw open the door of your jeep, pulled the pistol from under your driver's seat, and chased after her. Though she was quick you caught up to her just as fast. With the gun in your right hand you dove and trapped her legs with your arms pulling her to the ground. She grunted as her hand hit the ground, stopping herself. You let go and moved to train the gun on her head.

She kicked violently, knocking the pistol from your hands and threw herself so she was crouched. A movement you couldn’t do from the sheer amount of momentum you’d have to build and execute from your core. She trained a gun you hadn’t seen her get on your forehead.

You reached for the gun that had dropped from your grasp. Her foot stepped on your wrist. Your teeth gritted in pain. From the angle she could easily snap your wrist if it wasn’t fractured already.

“you get one chance. Tell me who you are working under or I blow a hole in your pretty face,”

She leaned down, sitting on your chest but her foot kept firmly planted against your wrist.

“you really think I’m pretty?”

She pressed in more and shifted so her weight was more on your chest. You gritted your teeth and growled.

“I don’t work for anyone. I retired but before i worked for MI6,”

Her eyes widened and she let up a bit. A rookie mistake. With a buck of your hips she fell forward. You trapped an arm and in a moment she was below you.

“Now this was more of the position I thought we’d be in tonight,”

She rolled her eyes and squirmed. Your weight was just too much for her to escape.

Your hands removed the gun from her hands and soon you have two guns on her. You placed them both on her temples and grinned.

“you get one chance. Tell me who you are working under or I blow a hole in your pretty face”

you repeated in a mocking tone. She growled and shifted up but you pressed the gun into her head to remind her it was there.

“I don’t work for anyone either. I-I’m trying to defect. I was trained as an agent for the KGB but I want to go to the US. Work for the agency there,”

Her features remained the same but some kind of pain swam in her eyes. She had a deeply emotional reason for this choice. No one left the KGB without being talented as fuck. Most wouldn’t risk it without a sincerely good reason.

You didn't let up off her but dropped the guns from her face and she relaxed under your weight letting out a huff.

“Well shit…”

She laughed and nodded.

“Shit indeed.”

Everything in you told you not to trust her. Trust the woman who by birth was against your country. Everything but your gut. The very thing you'd trusted and found love in. But you'd also buried that love. Even so you shifted your weight and kicked your legs out standing up. You reached out a hand.

“Always the cycle,” you muttered to yourself, “ I believe we have a good deal to talk about Rachmaninoff.”

She took the hand and vaulted herself up.

“Call me Romanoff.”

Tag List:

[lu-undy]

Valentine’s Day 3 - Autobalance

Here it is on AO3 or under the cut, if you prefer!

"You got all your stuff Spy? Taxi's on his way." Engineer asked as he knocked on the door with the knife symbol. 

"Oui, I am coming." The voice with the French accent answered. 

Inside the suite, Spy wasn't alone. He sighed as he picked up his suitcase and his mask before looking up at Sniper. 

"Spook…? You sure you can't stay?" 

"I do not think I can. The Administrator's orders were very clear, you received the same letter as I did. I am to be transferred to the enemy team and you will receive their Spy in exchange."

"Yeah… But why does it have to be like that?" Sniper asked, fumbling with his hat between his fingers. He had meant it as a rhetorical question, to express his distress more than anything else. But Spy answered anyway.

"Because we keep winning against them with baffling ease. It was high time that something was done about that."

"Couldn't she swap other people? You're not alone in this team!" 

Spy took the step that separated him from his lover and put his suitcase down. He splayed a hand on Sniper's chest. Like a reflex, his glove travelled up to Sniper's collar and adjusted it. Ah, Sniper didn't know how to dress up. But that was not why the Frenchman had fallen for him. Non, it was rather for his way of undressing the Frenchman, figuratively and concretely. 

Sniper had an innocence, a naivety almost, that touched Spy more deeply than anything else. He had learnt to ignore the scruffy looks, the almost feral manners and instead, found himself falling for them all. Those features were nothing but a wall hiding a kind of honesty and sensitivity too powerful to be understood by the common mortal. Spy had learnt to see through the campervan, the atrocious mullet, the equally hideous sideburns and the messy stubble on the skin tanned by years under the scorching sun of Australia. He had fallen for them all.

"Mundy." Spy said and Sniper, who had his head lowered, closed his eyes and frowned. "Look at me, please." 

"Can't. It hurts." 

"Please…?" Spy put his gloved hand under Sniper's chin and pulled it up until their eyes met. 

"Mh…" Sniper protested. 

"We will continue to see each other at work. This is not a goodbye." Spy said, trying to comfort him.

"Yeah, when you stab me in the back." Sniper sighed. 

"I will not spare you, mon amour, you know how much I like to scratch that back of yours." Spy wiggled his eyebrows and Sniper eventually managed to smile. 

"C'mere…" The Aussie wrapped his arms around him and pulled him in a tight hug as he buried his head in Spy's shoulder. "I'll miss you, luv'." He inhaled the expensive perfume and the menthol cigarette, the distinctive scent of the man he loved.

"I will miss you too." Of course Spy returned the dear embrace and they remained stuck to each other for a long while. Chest against chest, their breathing synced as their fingers clawed harder on each other. 

"Yo, Spy! Your taxi's comin'!" Scout shouted from the door. 

"Get lost!" Sniper shouted from the inside. 

"You are interrupting a moment, Scout." Spy added. 

"What kind of moment? C'mon, you gotta hurry, man!" 

Spy looked at Sniper and answered:

"The kind of moment you dream of having with Miss Pauling." 

Sniper chuckled.

"Oh guys! Jeez! Disgustin'...!" Scout's voice seemed to be deafened more as he walked away from the door. 

Spy and Sniper chuckled. 

"Right, let me carry this for you." Sniper took the suitcase off of Spy's hand. 

"Thank you, that is very kind of you." 

They headed for the door. 

"Well, gotta help the elderly, eh?" 

"Mundy!" Spy nudged him with his elbow. 

The Aussie chuckled and put his hand on the door knob. 

"Wait." He turned to Spy. "Lu'...?"

"Oui?" Lucien answered with a sweet smile. He was about to put on his mask.

"Can I uh… Can I kiss you, just one last time?" 

Lucien shook his head, his grin growing wider. 

"May I kiss you." He corrected. "And please, I am all yours." 

Mundy let go of the door handle and laced his arm around Lucien's waist, pulling him closer as he pushed his lips against him. Lucien wrapped his arms up around Mundy's neck and pushed himself to the tip of his toes, in his varnished Italian shoes. 

"Gosh, I'll miss your lips." Mundy stayed with his forehead against Lucien. His hand travelled up to his hair. He stroked it gently.

"Only my lips?" Lucien tapped the tip of Mundy's nose with his gloved finger before putting on his mask and passing in front of him to open the door. 

"Nah, definitely not only yer lips…" 

"Mundy-!" Lucien got startled when he felt from behind Mundy's powerful fingers grabbing him where he was quite sensitive. 

"C'mon, luv', let's go."

They exited the suite. Spy said goodbye to his team as the taxi arrived. The enemy Spy exited it and entered the base. He shook hands with his new teammates.

"Spy?"

"Spy." 

Both spies shook hands too. 

"Sniper, do you mind holding on to my suitcase, I will give the new Spy a tour of his suite." Lucien asked. 

"Sure. Don't be too long though, the taxi driver's waitin'."

"But of course." 

Both spies went to the door with the knife symbol and entered. It lasted a few minutes and soon, Lucien exited again. Mundy nodded to the front door and the Frenchman nodded. They exited the base and soon found themselves at the taxi's car.

"Hey, promise you'll go easy on my back?" 

"Only if you spare my head, and my suits."

"Your suits?" Mundy asked, not understanding.

"Your Jarate, Sniper." 

"Ah, yeah… Well, depends."

"On what, may I ask?" 

"If you behave." Mundy answered with a wink and Lucien blushed beyond his ears.

"Stop it."

"Make me." Mundy growled low enough that the taxi driver wouldn't hear and Lucien chuckled.

"I will see you tomorrow, as usual." The Frenchman said. 

"Yeah. Oh, hold on…" Mundy opened the car door for him.

"Oh… Merci." He slipped in the car on the backseat and fastened his seatbelt. 

Mundy tapped the window and Lucien lowered it. 

"Uh, I hope I'll say it right, but uh… je t'aime." 

[I love you.]

The pronunciation was tainted with a heavy English accent, the syllables were butchered and the sounds slaughtered. Lucien chuckled at how distorted it sounded from his Sniper's voice.

"Merci."

[Thank you.]

The driver started the engine and Mundy was left alone in front of the base, in the middle of the orange desert split by a grey line of asphalt. The car looked smaller and smaller as the taxi driver flew like the wind. Eventually, it completely disappeared and Mundy sighed, his shoulders sinking sadly. 

He went back straight to his van and spent the rest of his day off there, like a fox in his den. Time passed slowly, terribly so. It was torture to go through the day without his lover and Mundy found himself imagining what Lucien was doing in the enemy base, wherever it was. Did he start by unpacking his suits? Or did he just collapse on his bed and get sucked in the same daydream as Mundy was? 

Perhaps, he had decided to start by taking a shower, to clear his head, then unpack before organising his new home, getting to know it. Of course, Lucien would do all these things with a cigarette between his lips, carding his salt and pepper hair elegantly from time to time. Ah, his grey front lock would always fall on his forehead and between his eyes. He used to always complain about it, saying that he would cut it shorter. But Mundy would answer that his hair was perfect as it was, and he shouldn't cut it. 

Once, he even jokingly suggested that Lucien should tie it away in a ridiculous, very short ponytail at the front. And the Frenchman answered that he seriously was considering it. Of course it was nothing else but a joke, yet Mundy had taken his words and found a little rubber band. He took it to the Frenchman's suite and it had ended up in a game of cat and mouse where Mundy was chasing his lover to tie his hair. When he finally did catch him, he tied the grey front lock of hair and Lucien looked absolutely ridiculous. That day, he had even kept it for the entire evening and only removed it when he went to bed with Mundy. 

Ah, the nights would be lonely now. No Lucien to lie his head on Mundy's shoulder, no Lucien to stick his ice cold feet on Mundy's calves, just to bully him. And of course, no Lucien to warm Mundy's night and leave him panting and sweating… 

Mundy sighed. Such a shame that it had to end. Well, not exactly. They would still see each other at work. Although now, the dynamics between them completely flipped. They didn't work together but against each other. And it was no problem for both of them. Their professionalism and their age meant that they did not mix their work with what they held in their hearts. 

Still, it would take some time to adjust to the new feeling of sleeping alone. Ha, the irony… Him who had slept alone all his life, with only the view of the star sprinkled sky as a companion, Mundy was now lacking company. He almost came to wonder how he used to live before Lucien brightened his days and nights. The van seemed lifeless, as if something vital was missing. 

"Yo, Snipes, dinner's ready!" Scout banged at the door with his legendary delicateness. 

"Right, comin'." 

Mundy put on his hat and glasses before exiting the van. He went to the kitchen and sat at the table, at his usual place. Opposite him was an empty seat. It used to be Lucien's. 

"Alright, fellows, here comes the soup for tonight." Engie announced as he put the - almost larger than him - pot on the table.

"Oh, man! Soup again?" Scout complained. "Please tell me there are no veggies in it at least?" 

"Sorry, pardner, but it's winter and there's no soup on Earth without any veggies. C'mon, gimme your plate…!"

Scout pulled his plate towards himself. 

"Scout…?" Engie insisted. 

"Nah it's fine, I'll eat somethin' else."

"Chocolate bars and soda ain't a diet, son. C'mon now…!"

"Listen, Private!" Soldier banged his fist on the table and all the plates and cutlery shook. "You will eat your rations or by God I will make you eat the empty plate!" Soldier tried to pry the plate off of Scout's hands.

"What?! No! Get away!"

Sniper sighed. That would definitely be when Lucien would say something witty to calm Scout and make him obey...

"Gentlemen." 

All the mercenaries raised their heads. 

"I do apologise for being late. Unpacking proved to be longer than what I had anticipated at first." The new Spy took a seat on the last free chair, opposite Sniper. 

Spy's entrance was enough of a distraction for Engie to take Scout's plate and serve him. The other plates were passed on, one after the other until all the mercenaries were served and started eating. 

The indistinguishable chatter rose in the room between Demo's hearty laughter, Heavy's stories in cold Siberia and Soldier's war tales. 

Sniper was staring emptily at his plate. The bits of vegetables floated lifelessly, half-drowning in the soup. He pushed them sometimes to the left, sometimes to the right. Like little shipwrecks, they bobbed up and down at the surface of the undisturbed ocean that the soup was. 

Obviously, his colleagues noticed but they knew of his relationship with Spy so they guessed why he felt distraught. Given how much the Aussie liked his privacy, they didn't bother him and eventually, he was left alone at the table. Heavy had been on dishes duty that night and he did not disturb his colleague either. After he was finished, he left the room and closed the door. 

But soon, Sniper heard it open again. It did not register completely as he was too absorbed in a day dream. 

"Yo, Snipes?" 

Scout's voice startled Sniper back to reality. 

"Huh?" 

"Sorry pal, Spy's askin' for ya."

Sniper frowned. No, his Spy wasn't asking for him. It was the other one. 

"What does he want?" He mumbled back. 

"Don't know. He said he needed some help with something and he knew you could do it." 

Sniper sighed and grumbled. He pushed his chair back and pushed himself on his feet heavily. 

"Right, I'll see what I can do for him…" He dragged his feet out of the kitchen and in the corridor. 

"Snipes, your soup?" He heard Scout ask but he ignored him as he now faced the door with the knife symbol, and gave a short knock. 

"Come in, Sniper." 

The Aussie frowned and pushed the door. He found Spy sitting on the armchair that used to be Lucien's. He was giving his back to Sniper.

"You need some help with something, Scout said." 

"Oui, pray close the door."

Sniper obeyed and gulped down hard. The last time his Spy asked him to make sure the door was locked was before they - ugh… It mattered little now. 

"So, what d'you need? If it's to move somethin' big, you can ask Heavy, he'll get it sorted faster than me."

"Non, it is for something different. Please, take a seat." 

"Spy, look, I'm not the small talk kind of guy, ok?" Sniper refused to sit and stood not too far from the door.

"Oh, I know." 

"Yeah, you do, you spend your time stabbing me in the back without sayin' a word." Sniper answered, irritated that his new colleague would make him waste his time. He would much prefer to lock himself up in his van and stay there. 

"I don't believe I have ever stabbed you." 

Sniper's eyebrows jumped and he fluttered his eyes under the audacity of what the snake of a man was saying.

"What?" Confused beyond what words could express, Sniper took a deep breath. "Look, y'know what, I'm not gonna answer. I'm gonna just do whatever you need and leave. Now, out with it."

"Sniper…" Spy chuckled and Sniper felt his blood boil. 

"Listen, either you tell me what you need or I'll just walk out of here, before I start throwing punches at you." 

"You never raised your hand on anyone." Spy answered with such calm… Sniper hated it. "Even when Scout mocks you, or gets on your nerves, you ignore him." 

Sniper raised an eyebrow. 

"What…? Y-you've been watchin' us in this base…?" 

"You never raised your hand or your voice against anyone." Spy went on. "You are way too soft for that." 

"Stop it. Right. Bloody. Now." Sniper was now angry. The familiarity with which the new Spy spoke to him disgusted him. He sounded almost like Lucien but he wasn't him. No, that bastard wasn't him. He wasn't him and how the hell dared he speak like him. 

"Or what? What will you do, hm? Run far away and shoot me in the head? Throw one of your precious jars at me? Pff, come on…!"

"I might start by rearrangin' your ugly mug, pop a few teeth with my fists, see how that goes, eh!" Sniper snapped, furious. 

"You used to find my face very comely. Countless times you have told me so." 

"Right, that's enough." Sniper took confident steps towards the Frenchman. He clenched his fist and threw it but Spy stood up and faced him, blocking his punch in his open palm. He twisted the Aussie's arm and brought him to his knees. 

"Oh you wanker!" 

"Only when you ask nicely."

"What?!" 

Spy removed his mask and his hair gently floated in the air for an instant.

"What the hell?!" 

Mundy felt his foe's grip loosen on his fist and his own knees went to jelly under the surprise.

"Bonsoir, mon amour."  The voice with the lovely smirk said.

[Good evening, my love.]

"What are you doin' here?!" 

Lucien was standing in front of Mundy, a sweet smile on his lips. He helped him back to his feet.

"Am I…? Am I dreamin' or something? Hold on…" Mundy removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "What the hell are you doing here? Why aren't you with the other team?!" 

Lucien chuckled and took his lover's hands to guide him and sit together on the sofa. 

"I never left this base!"

"What?"

"When I took the enemy Spy on a tour of this suite, I had a chat with him. Neither him or I wanted to swap teams. So we agreed to swap our clothes instead. I stay here and he goes back to his base." 

"Holy… Why didn't you say anything earlier, during dinner or something?" Mundy stretched his arm and wrist which hurt.

"Because no one knows about this but you, me, and the enemy Spy. There are cameras in the kitchen, living-room and corridors. I couldn't try anything suspicious there. Here however, we are safe, as you know." 

"Bloody hell…" Mundy shook his head. "But hold on, why did the enemy Spy accept?" 

"I think he has an arrangement with one of his teammates." 

"An arrangement?" Mundy repeated. "What? They're gonna open a lemonade stand on the weekends?" He chuckled. 

"Non, he is in a relationship with his Sniper." 

Mundy's chuckle stopped sharp and his eyebrows jumped. 

"Seriously?" 

"Oui." 

"Crikey, I had no idea…!"

Lucien chuckled. 

"Anythin' else like that that I don't know?" He asked. 

"Oh, plenty of things. But they matter very little. What matters now is that I am still here, with you." Lucien cupped his lover's face with his gloved hands and stroked his cheeks. Mundy relaxed and smiled. 

"So the bloke I escorted to the taxi and stuff wasn't you?" 

"Non, it was him." 

"Oh, right." Mundy stared at his lover with half-lidded eyes. "It really broke me inside when - oh, bugger!" He exclaimed in shock. 

"What?" Lucien asked. 

"Before the taxi drove off…!" 

"What happened?" 

"I told the enemy Spy I loved him! In French!" Mundy exclaimed with round eyes. "Bloody hell!" He smacked a hand on his own mouth and blushed beyond his ears. 

Lucien burst out laughing. 

"Well, I do hope that he didn't say that he loved you back!" 

"Oh… Bugger… Now he's gonna bully me even more at work…" Mundy lowered his head. 

"Non, mon amour…" Lucien hugged him and pulled Mundy's head to rest on his shoulder. "I won't let him bully you, I promise. Besides, I doubt that he will." 

"Hope so." 

"I am sure of it. He is a good man. A less good spy, but a good man." Lucien said. "Now, please, look at me." He cupped Mundy's half ashamed, half distraught face. "You need something to soothe your nerves, mon amour. And to fill your stomach. Come along." Lucien took his hand and led Mundy to the kitchen attached to his suite. "Let us cook something for you." 

"Can we get pizza?" 

"Non, Mundy. Why get pizza when I can cook for you?" 

"Well…"

"Non! My cooking skills are godly, I will not tolerate that you should think otherwise!" Lucien said as he tied an apron around his waist and washed his hands. Mundy followed him left and right.

"I was gonna say it would save you the trouble, but ok…" Mundy chuckled. 

"What trouble? There is no trouble! My lover is hungry. It is my duty to remedy that." Lucien went to his fridge.

"Fair enough. Can I still hug you though?" 

"Oui, you may. But do not disturb me, understood?" Lucien emerged from the fridge and Mundy stuck himself to him, from behind. 

"Can I at least breathe?!" 

"I shall think about it and let you know." Lucien playfully answered as he grabbed a cutting board and a knife. Mundy rested his head on Lucien's shoulder, watching him cut vegetables and some meat. He liked it there, hugging his lover and spending time with him. Lucien would occasionally feed him a bit of carrot, or tomato. 

"Mundy?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Could you say that to me?" Lucien asked and he interrupted his chopping. 

"Say what?"

"That you love me, in French. You never did."

"Yeah, uh... Je t'aime, Lu'." 

Lucien bit his lip and rolled his head back to lean it on Mundy's shoulder. 

"Again…"

"Je t'aime." 

He closed his eyes and smiled. Mundy hugged him tighter and left a kiss on his cheek. 

"Mundy?"

"Yeah?" 

"Your pronunciation is terrible." 

"Oi!"

[dewitty1]

Hermione Granger's Hogwarts Crammer for Delinquents on the Run

waspabi @waspabi

Chapters: 8/8 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley Characters: Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom Additional Tags: Pining, Humor, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Friendship

Summary:

'You're a wizard, Harry' is easier to hear from a half-giant when you're eleven, rather than from some kids on a tube platform when you're seventeen and late for work.

Excerpt:

“You all right?”

“Brilliant,” Harry spat. His eyes burned and he turned away. He didn’t want Malfoy to see him crying.

“We can get rid of them,” Malfoy said quietly. “We can — not to sound murderous about it. I mean to say, we can just… Apparate away. Leave them here. We don’t have to get caught up in what they’re caught up in.”

“You think Hermione would go for that?”

“Probably not,” Draco admitted. “She likes the idea of a more organised resistance. Better resources. More money for those little pieces of Muggle parchment she likes with the sticky backs. But we can — we can strike out on our own, if we have to.”

“We wouldn’t last a week without her, remember?” Harry’s voice sounded hoarse. He wished his eyes would stop fucking leaking for five minutes. “We barely lasted a day at Jane and Cynthia’s.”

“I don’t know, Potter. We could figure something out. Sod this whole revolution business; it’s rubbish anyway. Crap food and no wages. Let’s leave this shit island to its self-destruction. We could go to Australia and live with Hermione’s parents and pretend to be Muggles. At this point I’d probably get an O on the Muggle Studies N.E.W.T, honestly, it’d be easy.”

Harry shut his eyes and had a brief, delirious fantasy of him and Malfoy on some Australian beach. Draco would be grousing about the heat, a thick line of sunblock on his nose. His bare shoulders would be red and peeling a little. Maybe he’d put on a really naff t-shirt with a stretched out collar to keep from getting more burnt. Harry would have a surfboard, and he’d somehow have got really good at surfing. They’d have boring jobs at a shop and no one would be trying to kill them.

“Funny,” Harry said, and his wet laugh was not very convincing.

“No?” Draco shuffled a bit closer. “Worth a shot, I suppose.”

“Sorry about your dad.” Harry scuffed his shoe on the ground, digging a little trench in the dirt. “Seemed like… I mean, I know he’s a right bastard, but I think he does love you.”

“He does. Fat lot of good that does me, obviously.” Draco edged yet closer. “It’s all right. I mean, it’s not all right, but it’s…” He shrugged expressively. “I think we’re handling your situation first.”

“I don’t have a fucking situation.” Harry looked at his feet. “Piss off.”

“In the immortal words of Harry Potter, ‘nah’.” Draco was very close to him now. He reached out and touched Harry’s hand — Harry flinched and stepped back.

“What are we even doing?” Harry demanded, wiping his eyes.

“Saving the country, and possibly the world?” Draco shrugged. “We may be doing a middling job of it at the minute, but it’s the thought that counts.”

“No, I meant…” Harry turned away. He didn’t want to look at Draco. “I meant, what are we doing.”

“Oh,” Draco said. Harry could practically hear him go rigid and pointy. “Oh, that.”

“Yes, that.” Harry turned back around so he could glower at him. “What — what are you playing at? You buy me a coat, you fix my shitty trainers, you hold my hand…” Harry’s eyes stung. His heart hurt so badly. “What are you fucking me about for?”

“I’m not fucking you about.” Draco looked pained. He brushed his hair out of his eyes. “I’m not playing at anything. Or I don’t mean to be. I… Don’t make me say it.”

“Make you say what?”

“I… you know. You.” Draco looked down at his hands, which he had twisted together so tightly his fingers were white. “I feel… I have felt… For fuck’s sake, Harry! It’s so cringe. Don’t make me say it.”

“Oh,” Harry said. “You mean… You fancy me?”

“Fancy,” Draco echoed, looking up at the patches of sky through the trees. “Yes. Obviously, are you completely dim?” He rubbed a hand over his face. “Fancy. Merlin and Morgana both, Potter.”

“Oh.” Harry ground the toe of his repaired trainer into the dirt. “I’ve never had someone fancy me before.”

“That is patently impossible, Potter,” Draco informed him. “You’re unbelievably unobservant, that must be the problem. Really, it’s like you’ve got tunnel-vision. You can only pay attention to a vary small radius of information at a time.”

“No one who knew me,” Harry amended. “No one who really knew me.”

“Oh,” Draco said. He took a deep breath like he was bracing himself for something. “Merlin’s sake, Potter. Can you stop doing things to me, for once?”

Harry frowned. “I’m just stood here.”

Draco covered his face with both hands. “This is so horrible. I hate this so much. Could you come here, please?”

Harry took a few steps forward. This was so confusing. Everything was weird, and confusing, and he was a wizard, and those men knew his parents, and they wanted him to be part of some weird underground resistance group that was somehow different to Harry’s weird underground resistance group, and here he was about to, he was pretty sure, have his first boyfriend. He was about seventy-five percent certain. He didn’t want to be cocky. He wasn’t all that certain how these things worked for normal people, let alone for teenaged renegade wizards.

“Come here properly, arsehole.”

“I don’t know what I’m meant to…”

“For fuck’s sake, Potter. Have you never learnt elementary social cues? Here.” Draco dropped his hands from his face and put his arms around Harry. He clutched Harry’s new coat with both hands. Draco’s face pressed against Harry’s neck, long eyelashes brushing his skin.

Harry couldn’t move. Draco’s coat smelled of smoke. His breath was warm and his nose was cold. Harry’s chest went tight and painfully full, like a wardrobe packed so tight that it would shortly avalanche all over the unfortunate person who would next open the door.

“Hug me back, you dickhead,” Draco mumbled into Harry’s neck.

Harry did. He put his arms around Draco’s waist and leaned into the curve of his chest. His eyes went hot and wet again, which was embarrassing. He ducked his head to hide them on the shoulder of Draco’s fancy coat. His nose leaked too, so he wiped it on the wool. It even felt expensive on his nose, which was impressive really.

“I’m getting bogeys on your coat,” Harry told him.

“You’re such an absolute knob,” Draco said, but he didn’t let go. He touched Harry’s head with one hand, spreading his fingers beneath the tangle of hair to slip over his skull. His fingers moved slowly, carefully. “I have no idea why I like you.”

“You like me. You said it out loud.”

“You must be hearing things, Potter.” Draco’s grip tightened around his waist. His other hand slid to the back of Harry’s neck and stayed there, warm at his nape. “I’m concerned about your delusions and flights of fancy.”

“My flights of fancy,” Harry said. “You lot met me on a train platform to tell me I was a wizard.”

“You are a wizard.”

“It’s the principle of the thing.”

“Can I…” Draco pulled back, eyes flickering to Harry’s mouth.

Harry didn’t let him finish. He leaned forward and kissed him. Draco made a soft sound, or Harry did, or both of them. Harry had kissed two people in his life and neither of them had felt like this, like if Draco took his hands from Harry’s face he would crumple to the ground. Harry wanted to get closer, closer, but it wasn’t possible. Pansy’s robes were infuriatingly unassailable — Harry groaned in frustration and Draco laughed into his mouth, warm and wet. The delirious dizzy nearness of Draco, their mouths together and the heat fogging Harry’s glasses… Harry felt lit up. He felt like a lumos in the dark.

“Fuck,” Draco said, his forehead pressed against Harry’s. “We really ought to get back.”

“Probably,” Harry said, and kissed him again.

“You’re right,” Draco said, his mouth moving against Harry’s. “Fuck it.”

“They can fuck right off.” Harry laughed and kissed Draco’s cold cheek, the corner of his chapped mouth. In a few minutes, they would go back and find the others. Harry would face Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, and they’d figure out what to do about Pius Thicknesse, and they could change out of their ridiculous robes. Just not yet. Not quite yet.

(⁎⁍̴̛͂▿⁍̴̛͂⁎)*✲ﾟ*｡⋆♡ོ

[samingtonwilson]

Apartment 8C - Chapter 2

Finding Your Independence

SERIES MASTERLIST // PREVIOUS PART

Summary: college au. you and bucky are the closest of friends, the most functional of roommates, and… exes. but just because it didn’t work out romantically doesn’t mean he has to move out! it’s not like he’s so deeply in love that he can barely breathe. totally not in love. at all. not even a little. maybe.

Pairing: bucky x reader

Warnings: language

A/N: the chapter title is ironic because this chapter is about how dependent these two are on each other. 

A scream startles you from accidental sleep. Deep, broken, and utterly terrified. 

It’s half-past six. Your room is bathed in gold. Fading sunlight and emerging city lights leak through the thin drapes over your windows. You set your chin onto an open textbook. 

Your eyes open narrowly. You need to listen carefully. You could have dreamt the scream.

A slow second passes, your eyes nearly shut, and then— 

Another scream. This time of your name. Your eyes snap back open.

You flip the pen you fell asleep holding, gripping it as a weapon while groggily— but with great haste, of course— climbing out of bed. 

Heartbeat in your ears, you sigh and kick away the thick purple blanket your feet are tangled in, throwing your door open to an empty living room. 

The front door is shut, your television hasn’t been ripped from the wall, everything is in its place. Even Bucky’s laptop sits undisturbed on the coffee table next to an almost totally flat bag of Doritos. 

You tilt your head. 

From behind the bathroom door, your name is screamed again. And a whimper punctuates it. 

In all your time of knowing Bucky, you’ve never once heard him so terrified. 

You swallow over the tension tightening your throat and pick up the first semi-threatening object you see: the penis-shaped vase Bucky had “unintentionally” made in ceramics during the semester he’d devoted to discovering his artistic side. 

You toss the pink peonies it houses aside and grip the vase tightly, pen poised in your other hand. You use your elbow to open the door, eyes narrowed and teeth gritted in an attempt to look tough. Objects held above your head, you’re about to strike when— 

When you see Bucky standing on top of the toilet. Towel wrapped haphazardly around his waist, chestnut hair dripping, his blue eyes wild. He’s also pale as a ghost, but his fearful expression takes only seconds to shift into one of confusion. 

One which matches yours. “You’re not being murdered?” 

“No!” he shouts back to meet your volume. He points at the glass wall enclosing the shower, finger shaking. “There’s a fucking spider in there!” 

Your teeth grit again. But this time in anger. “You shrieked like someone was beheading you over a spider?” 

Seconds later, you gasp dramatically as you ask, “You woke me up from a nap over a spider?” 

He at least has the decency to be sheepish. “S’a big spider.”

“You’re six-feet tall and have, like, 185 pounds on that spider.” 

“Size doesn’t matter. I raise you the poisonous spiders of Australia.” 

Nodding, you hold out your forearm to help Bucky off the toilet seat. You grunt at the weight of him. 

Maybe 185 is a stingy estimation. 

“Okay, I see your poisonous spiders of Australia and raise you ‘we’re in New fucking York, Bucky.’” 

Standing on the floor now, he winces when you use the back of your hand to slap his bicep. “There are poisonous spiders in New York, too, okay? We’re all afraid of something.” 

Silence as you regard him, a sigh as you concede. “Okay.” You ignore his victorious smile. “I’ll take care of it. Can you just turn the water off, please?” 

“And get close to that thing again?” he demands, outrage clear in his voice. He tries to keep his towel in place with one hand as he gesticulates with the other. “No! You do it.” 

“My clothes will get wet and I’m not in the mood to strip for you right now.” 

He smiles at that. “S’not like I haven’t seen it all before.”

“Yeah? You wanna make ‘we’ve fucked before’ jokes right now? When the fate of you ever using this bathroom again is in my hands?” 

An almost pathetic whimper and he relents with hands held up in surrender. He approaches the shower slowly and, with a scowl, reaches for the knob once, twice, three times before finally gripping it and turning it to the left. 

Once the steady stream of water is reduced to mere drops, Bucky stands back and sends you a glare. “Happy?” 

“Elated.” You set your weapons on the counter and rip off two sheets of paper towel. 

“Kill it quickly.” 

“I’m not gonna kill it.” 

He snorts as he stands leant against the doorframe. “What, are you gonna adopt it as the apartment pet?” 

“No, funny guy. I’m gonna let it go on the balcony.” 

“What if it comes back in?” 

“Then we’ll get the Five Families together and let the Mafia handle it.” 

When you finally spot the thick, quarter-sized spider, you inhale through your nose and step into the shower stall slowly. You brace yourself with one hand wrapped around the edge of the glass wall. Your features are pinched.

Bucky grins at the sight. “You scared, baby?” 

A sarcastic bark of laughter, and you crack one eye open. You almost convince him. “Please.” 

It takes little coaxing for the brown spider to crawl onto the paper towel and you immediately fold each side of it closed. There’s a soft scratch of the spider’s legs against the paper walls, more felt than heard, and you forcefully choke back vomit. 

You bump into Bucky as you race out of the bathroom, his towel very nearly slipping from his fingers, and don’t slow your steps until you’re across the living room and have pushed the balcony doors open. 

Carefully, you unfold one side of the makeshift cocoon and squeal quietly to yourself as the spider stumbles into a flower box attached to the metal rail. It quickly scurries behind a wilting tulip and you make a mental note to water the plants more.

“You were coming to protect me with this?” 

Bucky, now dressed in a t-shirt and a pair of navy blue sweatpants, is holding the penis vase when you turn. He stands at a safe distance, shielded by the door, and has the nerve to wear a shit-eating grin. “You know there’s a baseball bat behind the couch, right?” 

“Now I do.”

“I also gave you pepper spray when you enrolled in that nine PM lecture,” he adds as you walk through the door and right past him. He places the vase back on its shelf and nods his head toward the kitchen. “There are knives right there, too.” 

You pick up the bag of Doritos, confirm that it is indeed empty, and frown. “Disgusting. I’d never stab someone.” 

“Even if they were murdering me like you thought?” He takes the bag from you and balls it up to throw in the trash. He wants to open the refrigerator but knows the groceries he forgot to buy won’t magically appear on the shelves. 

“Knives are such a cliché, everyone uses knives. He’d see it coming.” You grin at Bucky through the explanation from your favorite corner of the couch and he stills behind the kitchen counter. “The key is throwing him off his rhythm. Penis vase serves that purpose.” 

He laughs, albeit a bit oddly, rolling his eyes as he opens the Notes app on his phone. And he draws a blank. “What, uh— What foods do you like?” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Do you have any favorite foods?”

He’s met with silence. 

He decides to explain. Sort of. “Like, what do you want to eat most of the time? What is it that you crave? Food-wise,” he adds with a cocked eyebrow. “What is it you know how to make that you enjoy eating? Are you acting out of lunacy again and dieting for no fuckin’ reason?” 

Seconds go by and you have yet to answer. He looks up from his phone and answers the question over your features with, “Just out of curiosity.” 

“Not because you have zero idea what to buy from the store?”

“Can’t a guy wonder what his friend, ex-girlfriend, and roommate is eating these days? Just for fun? To bond?” 

Your eyes narrow into a glare. “Not when that guy is you and it’s your turn to go grocery shopping. I thought I gave you a list a few days ago.” 

“You yell random items at me on your way out the door for class and I’m expected to remember it all?” 

“You yelled your feelings at me constantly and I was expected to remember it all,” you return as you rise from the couch and draw closer to him only to sit in one of the barstools at the counter. You watch as he opens his Notes application again and stare as he struggles to come up with anything. “Green apples, white peaches, red bell peppers, yellow onions. Don’t look at me like that. The colors are important.”

“Yeah, yeah. What are you doing for dinner? Might take me some time to decipher colors at the store.” 

Chin propped up on your palm, you slide his phone over and ignore his expression of protest to add eggs, sourdough bread, avocados, pre-cut mushrooms, celery, hummus, whatever pasta is shaped like a spiral, tortilla chips, oat milk, any flavor of microwave popcorn Wanda won’t finish, and for God’s sake, you fucking wreck, buy your own gum for once to the grocery list.

“S’okay. I’m not really hungry anyway.”

“You’re always hungry.”

You gasp in offense with a small, contradictory smile. “How dare you? That’s not something you say to a lady.”

He smiles sarcastically before rolling his eyes. “If you need me to rush so you can make something, I will.” 

“Too tired to make anything. Also just too untalented to.” 

“Come with me, then. We can stop somewhere on the way back.” He sees you begin to refuse and cuts you off with a quick, “I’ll pay.” 

“If you think you paying for my food is incentive enough for me to put on human pants and walk out that door,” you begin, pointing at the door, “then you’re absolutely correct. Give me a second to put jeans on.” 

You hear Bucky’s chuckle as you walk into your room, tossing away that pair of fleece pants your mother had begged you to burn to ash the last time you’d seen her and replacing them with a pair of jeans your mother had also begged you to burn to ash. “How do you feel about Sam and Nat?” 

“About Sam, negatively. About Tasha, positively.” He’s patting the pockets of his sweats and tossing couch cushions every which way to look under them, hair in disarray, when you hop into the room with only your right boot on. In a mumbled, barely present voice, he adds, “So I guess that balances out to feeling neutral about them together.”

Slipping on and zipping up your left boot, you cock an eyebrow at the elephant throw pillow which is sent smacking against your ankles. “Have you lost something?” 

He doesn’t look up from the sofa as he replies, “Keys. Where the shit are my fucking keys?” 

“D’you check the cabinet closest to the fridge?” 

“Why the fuck—” 

You sigh and begin to set the cushions back where they belong, placing the elephant gingerly at the center of the couch. “Just check.” 

Bucky’s grumbles as he passes by, his scoffs of disbelief, and sighs of annoyance are ignored until you hear his every noise abruptly end as he stares at the cabinet he is now standing before. 

“Find ‘em?” 

There are equal parts shock, fear, and exasperation over his features. He slams the cabinet shut. “You’re a witch, aren’t you? Some kind of freaky, all knowing witch?” 

“Yes. Do you have your wallet?” 

A pat on each of his pockets, then one against his ass— despite not having a pocket there. He bares his teeth for a moment. “You wanna tell me where that is, too?” 

“Can I get three guesses this time?” 

“Two,” he states, leaning against the counter. “Impress me.” 

“First of all, I couldn’t give half a shit about impressing you.” Bucky snorts at that. “It’s either in the freezer—” 

He opens the freezer and the next thing you hear is a loud, “Ha! Whoo! You’re wrong!” 

“I have another guess.” 

He visibly deflates, smug smile wiped clean. “Yeah, yeah. Go on.” 

“Counter of your bathroom, in the pocket of whatever jeans you wore to class.” 

You run a few steps behind his long strides to the bathroom and stand in the doorway as he fishes through the pile of dirty clothes beside the sink. 

He thinks he might hate the smile you’re wearing when he pulls his wallet from the depths of denim, but he can’t bring himself to hate it— he feels quite the opposite about it, actually. It’s worth the inevitable gloating and the crazy accurate interpretation of a celebratory dance you saw a football player you can’t remember the name of do after a touchdown. 

You’re laughing when he brushes past you to walk to the door and grin as you pass him so he can lock it behind you. “What would you do without me, Buck?” 

He honestly doesn’t know. 

— 

Your laughter captures Bucky’s attention. Delighted, excited, and entirely too loud. 

He’s been nursing a red Solo cup of lukewarm supermarket-brand cola for about two hours now. 

It’s disgusting. Watered-down now that the ice has melted, but still too sweet and a little flat. He would’ve liked to cut it with the bitterness of anything alcoholic, but he can’t. 

He’s designated driver tonight, after all. The miserable result of a miserable coin toss. 

He’d suggested thumb wrestling�� but you weren’t having it. Something about his thumb being far larger than yours, giving him an unfair advantage. Almost as if you’d known he’d chosen thumb wrestling for that precise reason. 

So he’s spent the night pouting. 

Complaining. 

Glowering at anyone that dares to make conversation with him. 

Because he hates the cheap soda Steve buys. He hates the sticky counters Sam waits hours to wipe down. And he hates hearing underclassmen talk about how hot you are when your ping pong ball skates over the rim of one of Natasha’s cups. 

But he smiles at the sound of your laughter. At the way you grin, all smug and victorious. It lights up otherwise glossy eyes, drunken giggles growing clumsy as Natasha frowns down at a cup matching his. 

“You gotta drink it down, babe!” You lean your hip against the plastic table set up in the kitchen and purse your lips when Natasha fishes the beer-soaked ball from her cup to toss at your shoulder. “Poor sportsmanship is unbecoming on you.” 

Natasha rolls green eyes over the top of the cup, chugging its contents easily. “Just like cockiness is on you.” 

“Let’s not lie to ourselves, Nat.” Natasha is already struggling against a smile. “We all know cockiness is dead sexy on me.” 

Beside Bucky, Sam laughs. He raises his hands in innocence and surrender when Natasha shoots him a glare. “Not pickin’ sides, that was just funny.” 

“You’re not picking your girlfriend’s side automatically?” is Bucky’s question asked in a voice exaggeratedly naïve. He grins lopsidedly as he takes a sip of soda only to retch as it goes down. “That’s brave.”

You watch as Natasha pitches her next shot over the rim of one of four remaining cups. You send Bucky a smile as you retrieve it. “Bucky was always on my side when we were together.”

His devious smile is like a secret between the two of you. He hums in agreement. “Blindly.” 

“Loyally.” You hold the cup at your lips, stomach and cheeks warm from three hours of generous beer and mixed drink helpings. Your next swallow goes down with a shudder.

“I’d root against myself for her.” 

“S’more pathetic than loyal,” Sam snorts only to earn a squeak of indignation and an empty cup to the chest in response. Despite purported offense, he chuckles at your delighted laughter and quickly sobers to point a stern finger. “Makin’ a mess of my kitchen like this. Rogers’ll kill you.”

In challenge, you cock an eyebrow. “He’ll kill you first when he sees all the candy missing from his secret stash.” 

“Barnes ate all that.” 

Bucky’s stomach flips at the way you tilt your head and narrow your eyes, at the soft flutter of your eyelashes, the promise in your voice when you say, “Blind loyalty, Sammy. That isn’t the story I’ll tell Steve.” 

“You aren’t even dating anymore.” 

You wave a dismissive hand. “I’ll always be on Bucky’s side. Plus if I go down, I’m taking you with me.”

Pointedly at a glowering Sam, Bucky tears the wrapper of a fun-size Twix bar and takes as big a bite as the small bar will allow. 

There’s caramel in his teeth and smug satisfaction in his eyes as he stuffs the gold foil into the pocket of Sam’s bomber jacket, laughing when the latter slaps his hand away. 

What feels like a lifetime passes and Bucky waits until you’ve completed a second game— this time defeated by a furious and candy-less Steve— to Irish goodbye. 

It’s his signature. 

He hasn’t said a proper goodbye to anyone in years.

Your drunkenness, however, foils his plan. You insist on pressing kisses to the forehead of each of your friends— lingering a bit longer for Sam just to earn a snort from Natasha— and you tap the fishbowl housing a temperamental turquoise Betta fish named Marcel twice as you couldn’t just exclude Marcel and hurt his feelings. You even leave them with an ominous, “I hope we will all meet again.”  

He lets you climb onto his back when you stumble out of his car to your building, tripping over the four-inch block heel of your boots, and soon the elevator stall is filled with your humming. Unintelligible, entirely out of tune. And you swing your legs. Dysrhythmic, offbeat. 

He smiles when you set your chin upon the crown of his head, his hold on you tightening as the metallic doors slide open on the eighth floor. He feels the deep breath you take against his back, his attention drawn away from the short walk down the hall when your feather-like fingertips trace his jaw. 

Nails skimming over the bristly hairs of his stubbly beard to the hidden divot in his chin, you— already flush against him— attempt to push yourself even closer. And huff in disappointment when you’re unable to. 

You feel him come to a stop. “Sweetheart?” 

A short hum, this time in question. 

“I gotta unlock the door.” 

You open your eyes slowly, blink away some of the drowsiness. You think offhandedly that the pale yellow door could use a fresh coat of paint. “I’ll do it.” You hold out a hand and wiggle your fingers. “Keys?” 

“In my left pocket.” He chuckles when your right hand slides down the incorrect side. “Other left.” 

You heave a deep sigh, your other hand slipping into his left pocket to feel around. The jingle of keys is muted by your triumphant shout, fingers sorting through the bundle of steel to find the one semi-coated in bright pink nail polish. You decide that should be repainted first lest the two of you mix up your keys again.

Bucky watches as you attempt to stretch enough to reach the doorknob, jolting each time you urge yourself forward. He grins when you whimper pathetically. “You can ask me to move closer.” 

The arm still wrapped around his neck tightens a bit and you press your cheek to the roughness of his. You strain toward the door once more in stubborn perseverance, then knock your heels against the side of his thighs. He laughs at the growl in his ear.

“Ask me verbally. I’m not a horse.” 

“Got the name of one,” you mumble, crossing your ankles at his waist as he grips you harder. “Longer you stand there refusing to move, the longer you have-ta hold me up.” 

“Been lifting with Steve. I’m content to stand here all night.”

“What, trying to get that post-breakup revenge body?” 

“Gotta do something to fill all my new free time.” 

A hiccup punctuates your giggles and Bucky feels you straighten before leaning back ever so slightly. 

Suddenly, you jerk forward with all of your might, sending Bucky lurching to the door. He has to remove a hand from your legs to steady himself against the wall, breath shallow and heart in his ears when he notices he’s only centimeters from smashing into the wood. “Hey!” 

You, still holding on, shush him as you slip the key into the brass latch, whispering, “Our neighbors are sleeping.”

Once you’re able to throw the door open and Bucky walks inside, you detangle your ankles and leap to the floor as the lights flicker on. You laugh when your knees very nearly buckle, fingers gripping the edge of the kitchen counter under a wave of lightheadedness. Your stomach flips and every trace of humor fades. “Yikes.” 

Bucky, halfway through removing the leather jacket he’d worn over a black hoodie, watches as you lay your torso across the counter. He smiles when you press your cheek to the cool marble, his laughter mingling with the groans that leave your lips. 

Your muffled grumble sounds vaguely like, “Oh, shut up.”

His steps are slow and quiet. He offers you an apologetic smile when you startle at his touch, brushing stray strands of hair from your shut eyes. He wrinkles his nose at your answering scowl, watching as glassy eyes still filled with such potent brightness narrow in an attempt at intimidation. “Need a lift to your bathroom?” 

You shake your head. Propping yourself up onto your forearms, you nod toward your room. “It’ll be too shaky. Maybe just guide me there?” 

His fingers lace through yours and he tugs you upright. He doesn’t mind supporting the weight of you, doesn’t care that he has to dodge the books and shoes you’ve left littered over your bedroom floor. 

Your bathroom light is switched on and you pull away from Bucky to take quick, stuttering steps to the toilet. He winces to himself when you fall to your knees, your trembling hands clamoring to push the seat cover up. 

As you feel that maybe your stomach has turned itself inside out, Bucky gathers your hair in one hand and holds you close to his chest with the other— just in case you need the support. Until then, though, he rubs comforting circles which warm you even through the satin fabric of your shirt. 

“Twix and beer are a horrible combination coming up,” you remark, voice rough, minutes later. You’re seated against him once you’ve thoroughly emptied your system, head falling back onto his shoulder. “That last game of beer pong was a mistake.”

He feels your breath wash over his skin and, despite how perfectly okay he would be with sitting there for hours, turns his head away. “Sweetheart, I want to be here for you but— but I can’t when your breath smells like that.” 

Stunned pause, and you burst into laughter. Tired hands are used as leverage and you stand, boots long ago removed and thrown aside. You send him a smile over your shoulder and roll your eyes but face the sink as he grins dopily back. “You’re weak, Barnes.” 

He meets your playful gaze in the mirror and, at the sight of pooled dried mascara underlining your eyes and the thin layer of sweat spread over the bridge of your nose, he forces himself to take a steadying breath. “You have no idea. Hungry?” 

Loading your toothbrush with translucent paste, you shrug. “Maybe.” 

“Grilled cheese or pancakes?” 

“If I say both, will you judge me?” 

“I just held your hair back while you threw up a keg’s worth of beer and you’re afraid I’ll start to judge you now?” 

You smile as you scrub your teeth in rapid strokes. “There was some vodka in there, too.”

Shoulder leant against the doorframe, his eyes are alight. “My mistake. Anything else you’d like while I’m at it?” 

“Some ibuprofen?” you ask after spitting the foam from your mouth. “I’m all out here.” 

A frown of consideration, and he nods. “Will that be all?” 

“Yes, I believe it will be.” Before he can walk out, you call his name. “What would I do without you?” 

He honestly hopes you’ll never have to find out.

--

CHAPTER 3: GETTING BACK IN THE GAME 

[cooker53]

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[theparanormalperiodical]

31 Celebrity Ghost Stories You NEED To Read On Halloween Night (Or Any Time Of The Year, Screw The System)

*Puts on old professor glasses*

For generations we have been in awe of the celebrity.

*strokes beard*

For generations we have trodden their paths, followed their scents, and watched with wandering eyes exactly what they do - and all in the name of escapism.

Since the conception of humankind we have sought to understand what makes the rich and famous both rich and famous. Our philosophers decode mannerisms, our magazine editors calculate their every mistake, and the rest of us simply gaze up at the stars wondering how, why, and what we share in common with the glorified among us.

But you see-

*walks across the Ted Talk stage*

-they are just like us.

They make mistakes, they compare themselves to others, and yes, they even suck in their stomachs when trying on their new TopShop crop top and then shove it in the back of their sock drawer convinced their lower belly will always have too fat.

But even more than that, they have experiences with the paranormal.

*pulls up a chair and sits on it backwards cause for some reason people think it looks actually idk how people think it looks but whatever back to the imagery*

And so, on this Halloween night, we celebrate what brings us all together - no matter how much cash nor clout one has.

Shall we?

Miley Cyrus

During her 2009 Europe tour, Cyrus stayed in a flat in London - a flat that she claims was haunted.

"It was seriously so terrifying. It used to be an old bakery and they turned it into an apartment building, and I was having really crazy dreams and really scary things, and one night my little sister–it sounds crazy to tell you–but she was standing in the shower and all of a sudden I hear her scream.

I run in there and the water had somehow flipped to hot but it was still...It wasn’t like the water had just changed, the knob had turned but she hadn’t turned it and it was burning her.”

In the same bathroom Cyrus was convinced she saw a little boy sitting on the sink whilst she was showering. A series of other unexplained events took place until they delved into the family history of the bakery: it was passed down for generations from father to son. Cyrus believed she saw the last son to be left the bakery.

Cher

Turns out Cher doesn’t just believe in life after love but life after death, too.

The music legend herself is convinced that her late husband, Sonny, who died in 1998 is still making his presence known to her.

She claims his spirit has a habit of turning lights on to remind her he is there and often does this to her chandelier - even when there is no power.

“I love ghosts, I prefer ghosts to some people.”

Anna Nicole Smith

This late Playboy bunny was known for her bombshell sex appeal and scandalous career - but what about her forays into the supernatural?

"A ghost would crawl up my leg and have sex with me at an apartment a long time ago in Texas. I used to think it was my boyfriend, and one day I woke up and it wasn’t. It was, like, a spirit and it—woo! [miming a ghost flying from her bedsheets]—went up!

I was freaked out about it, but then I was, like, 'Well, you know what? He’s never hurt me and he just gave me some amazing sex so I have no problem.'"

When the interviewer asked her whether it was merely a dream Smith replied that it was happening every single night.

Kesha

Just like Smith, Kesha’s own experience with the paranormal is rather more sexual.

In her own words she went to the “bone zone” with a ghost.

"I don't know his name. He just started caressing me. It was a sexy time, it wasn't, like, sex."

Emma Stone

Back in 2014 Stone revealed on a late night talk show that the spirit of her grandfather often leaves quarters for her to find.

In fact, she claimed her family has a history of the small change - and its legacy clearly goes beyond the grave.

La Toya Jackson

Michael Jackson’s death is one of the most striking moments in modern history - but it turns out the King of Pop might also be the King of the Paranormal.

La Toya often claims she feels strong presences in the Jacksons’ childhood home and frequently shares about the supernatural activity coming from MJ’s old room. Many visitors, staff members, and family members have heard tap dancing coming from the room, even when they didn’t know who it used to belong to.

It was in this room that Michael would tap dance for two hours every sunday.

Susan Boyle

Boyle often recounts that she lost several members of her closest family within the span of a few short years and felt abandoned by her family. But in a 2011 interview she claimed she sees her mother’s spirit around her house, believing it to be a reminder from beyond the grave that she is not alone.

Megan Fox

"I was just in Mexico at my hotel and it was a bedroom, living room, bedroom...I had pre-ordered breakfast for 7:30, and at 7 a.m. I hear them come in with the table, I hear them pouring the coffee…

30 minutes later, at 7:30 I went in there, no table, no coffee, no food, no nothing, no one there. Door bell rings, I open the door, it's room service with my food...Brandy the nanny comes out later and says, 'Why did room service come at 7 when we told them to come at 7:30?' So you can't tell me I'm crazy, because two people heard it."

Ariana Grande

This paranormal enthusiast was visiting one of the gates of hell - Stull Cemetery - when she felt a sudden surge of negative energy around her. Flies suddenly appeared in the car and she smelt a strong odour of sulphur.

Both are symptoms of dark, demonic energy.

As they drove off she ‘apologised’ to the spirits for disturbing the peace and took a couple of pictures of the area before they left. She saw clear demonic faces in the image. When she tried to send it to her manager as proof of the strange goings on, the picture couldn’t be sent.

Why?

Because it was 666 megabytes.

Joan Rivers

This comedian’s old Manhattan apartment might be worth $28 million but it's far more famous for the supernatural entities within its walls than its price tag.

In one iconic episode of Celebrity Ghost Stories Rivers claims she even brought in a voodoo priestess to help a former resident, ‘Mr Spencer’, pass on.

Marilyn Manson

Just like Rivers, Marilyn Manson told his own paranormal experience on CGS. But his story had less spirits and more, you know, Satan.

Pressured by his peers into reading demonic incantations in a supposedly haunted basement, Manson claims he then heard demonic whispers around him asking if he believed in Satan.

Alyson Hannigan

Hannigan might be known for her Wiccan ways on the TV screen in Buffy The Vampire Slayer, but her encounters with the paranormal aren’t just captured by our favourite streaming services.

Back in 2003 Hannigan claimed she lived in a haunted house - but she believes the spirit is friendly.  

“My friend saw him first one night. She said, 'I don't mean to alarm you, but I just saw a man follow us out of the house.' “

"Later that night I saw this silhouette of a man standing in the bathroom doorway. I was like, 'Sweetie, what are you doing?' I thought it was [fiance] Alexis [Denisof]. But then I looked and Alexis was asleep next to me.”

Nicolas Cage

Yes, the most memed actor in Hollywood has faced a series of paranormal experiences, too. In 2007 Cage purchased one of the most haunted houses in America in a bid to get inspired to write the latest horror novel.

He bought the LaLaurie Mansion in New Orleans, a house belonging to one of the 19th century’s most infamous serial killers.

Many believe the slaves tortured by Delphine LaLaurie still haunt the mansion. Perhaps Cage heard the wails and moans of her victims, or maybe he felt the demonic presence rumoured to have taken part in a murder of a tenant in 1894?

Demi Lovato

Lovato often makes mention of her beliefs in the paranormal - especially when it comes to her haunted house in Texas. She claims a young girl named Emily haunts her home in the South, and has even mentioned that she was a childhood ‘friend’ when she was growing up.

But this tale has to be the most terrifying:

"One of my friends, Tucker, came over one time and he asked, 'So your house is haunted?' I said, 'Yeah, just watch. Something will happen. Something always happens.' We started to watch a movie when all of a sudden a laptop in my kitchen started to play a movie also. It was a black screen before, so it was a question of who turned it on and hit play.

And after that Tucker texted a friend saying, 'I think this house is haunted, a movie just turned on by itself,' and there was a 'glitch' in his phone that kept texting him back the word 'definitely' over and over again. That happened about 30 times."

Peter Jackson

Jackson might be known for putting mystical and magical creatures on the big screen, but he’s seen similar things in real life, too.

"One night I woke up and there was a figure in the room. She was really scary—her face was like a silent scream. She glided across the room and disappeared into the wall." He told Fran in the morning and she said, "'Was it the woman with a screaming face?’ We had never spoken about it. 

She had seen the same ghost two years earlier. So I do believe in some energy, a spirit or a soul..."

Kendrick Lamar

From one famous rapper to another:

Lamar told Home Grown Radio that he had a dream about Tupac Shakur - a dream he believed conveyed a message from beyond. In the dream Tupac told him “Keep doing what you doing, don’t let my music die.”

Keanu Reeves

He’s one of the internet’s favourite celebrities - but what isn’t so famous about this Matrix star is his paranormal experience from when he was living in NYC.

"I'm probably like six, seven years old, we'd come from Australia. Renata, [our] nanny, in the bedroom, my sister is asleep, she's sitting over there, I'm hanging out. There was a doorway and all of a sudden this jacket comes waving through the doorway, this empty jacket — there's no body, there's no legs, it's just there. And then it disappears..."

The nanny saw the exact same thing.

Adele

Ghost nuns are not only on-trend but also terrify-ing. Adele can testify to that. In 2012 the singer moved into a plush Sussex mansion which used to be a convent.

A couple creepy noises later and she hired around-the-clock security to protect her against the paranormal activity. Who knows what she might’ve seen in her new $6 million home?

Matthew McConaughey

McConaughey claims his Hollywood mansion was haunted by an unhappy female spirit by the name of Madame Blu.

"I was not even under the influence and she was there. She wasn't that happy, it didn't seem like she was going to be much fun to hang around or have in my house, so I went ahead and stood my ground. I opened the door and said 'You can move around all you want but I'm not going anywhere.'"

"For weeks everyone that came to the house said the same thing: 'There's someone down in that hall, there's somebody down in that hall.'"

Ryan Gosling

Most of the celebs that made this list whip out their charming ‘lil spooky story to pique interest in their latest career venture. Gosling’s story, however, is actually pretty f*cking scary.

One day, in his childhood home, he saw a ghost of a young boy.

"He just sat. And I knew from a very young age that he was a ghost, too. He scared me. I told my mother, but she couldn't see him. Nobody could. And I learned to live with that. I had to…

Then, a few years later, [my mother] thought she saw him, then almost right away my cousin saw him, and then my uncle. And we were outta there in fairly short order."

Laura Linney

Linney is one of Hollywood’s most cherished actresses - and even on the stage she has witnessed something from the other side.

She became a believer in the paranormal after working in the Belasco Theater on Broadway.

"I had forgotten this, and I was doing a play with Jane Alexander, and I turned to Jane Alexander, and I looked up to the upper balcony—there are two balconies there—and the upper balcony you can only get in from the outside, and those doors were locked; and I looked up, and there was a woman standing in the front row looking over with a blue dress and blonde hair.

I just thought, 'Well, hello!' I looked back at Jane, and I looked back up, and she was gone. I went to the house manager and I said, 'Joe, I think I saw a ghost.' And he went, 'male or female?' I said, 'female.' And he went, 'blue dress, blonde hair?'"

Megan Mullally

Another famous ghost that haunts a famous face features on this list. But this time the paranormal activity described by Mullally is certainly the most tragic.

She claims she lived in a house haunted by the spirit of Nicole Brown Simpson who was murdered in 1994. She believes that only when her husband watched the American Crime Story series about her death did the strange occurrences (most of which were odd and unexplained sounds) settle.

Kristen Stewart

Only last year our very own Bella Swan opened up not just about her own experiences with ghosts, but her own spiritual connection with other people.

“If I’m in a weird, small town, making a movie, and I’m in a strange apartment, I will literally be like, ‘No, please, I cannot deal. Anyone else, but it cannot be me.’ Who knows what ghosts are, but there is an energy that I’m really sensitive to. Not just with ghosts, but with people. People stain rooms all the time.”

Carrie Fisher

Carrie Fisher lived an extraordinary life. She was one of the few a-listers to openly discuss her struggles with mental health and drug use before it became so accepted in mainstream society. Unfortunately, these topics would haunt her in a rather more supernatural manner, too.

Following the overdose of a friend sleeping next to her in her mansion, Fisher claimed she would often feel their presence around her.

"Lights would go on and off, and I had this toy machine, that when you touched it would say, 'F*ck you! Eat sh*t! You’re an asshole!' And it would go off in the night, by itself, in my closet.”

She later hired an exorcist to cleanse the house of the spirit.

Halle Berry

Whilst filming Introducing Dorothy Dandridge, Berry would experience intense paranormal activity she believed was down to her dress.

A dress formerly owned by the woman titling the film.

"I'd come home and the housekeeper would say she'd heard my vanity chair moving upstairs in the bathroom. When the film was over, I desperately wanted to keep her dress, but it had to go. And then everything was fine."

Lady Gaga

Just like Kendrick Lamar, Lady Gaga has had her own dealings with the spirit of an icon. But instead of rap legend Tupac, she got the late fashion designer Alexander McQueen.

"Right after he died, I wrote 'Born This Way.' I think he's up in heaven with fashion strings in his hands, marionetting away, planning this whole thing…

I didn't even write the f*king song. He did!"

Melissa McCarthy

Comedian Melissa McCarthy revealed in 2016 that she believed in ghosts - and gave insight into where her beliefs came from.

"I grew up on a farm and I didn't have any real friends,

I have a very strong belief that people are out there, because I was certainly talking to someone in those barns. Otherwise I'm just crazy. I really strongly believe in ghosts."

Jessica Alba

In 2008, Alba told US Weekly about her own encounter with the paranormal when she was a child.

“I felt this pressure and I couldn’t get up, I couldn’t scream, I couldn’t talk, I couldn’t do anything

Something definitely took the covers off me and I definitely couldn’t get off the bed, and then, once I did, I screamed, ran to my parents’ room and I don’t think I spent many nights in that house ever again.”

Jenna Bush Hager

The White House already has a reputation for its paranormal activity (Abe Lincoln often makes a reappearance during times of crisis) and this former first daughter has evidence to support such a claim.

"I was asleep, there was a fireplace in my room and all of a sudden I heard 1920's music coming out. I could feel it. I freaked out and ran into my sister's room. She was like, 'Please go back to sleep, this is ridiculous.'"

Lucy Liu

This Charlie’s Angel - like so many of the people included in this article - claims she had sexual relations with something supernatural.

“I felt everything. I climaxed. And then he floated away.”

Bella Thorne

"I was lying in bed when I saw a shadowy, silvery figure of an old woman creeping across my room, then it slipped into my closet…

I panicked and ran out of bed and swung open my closet door only to see she was in there. But she was gone. I was sure I had seen her ghost! It was really freaky."

Do you believe ‘em?

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Got your own paranormal experience to share? Head on over to the peoplesparanormal.com to read real ghost stories and submit your own!

Happy Halloween, lads.

[kathyprior4200]

Roo (fan interpretation)

Roo profile (fan made)

Roo is a character in Hazbin Hotel.

Character information (fan made):

True name: Roxanne

Nicknames: Trash Queen, Roxy (by her sister)

Date of birth: early 1970s/late 1960s?

Date of death: 1990s?

Cause of death: Burning in incinerator

Likes: Killing demons, working with herbs, singing, playing Australian music, fashion, successful trash days

Dislikes: Her boss, her sister, demons remarking on her ugly appearance

Sexuality: Bi

Species: Human (Previously), Kangaroo Demon

Gender: Female

Age: 20s-30s

Abilities: Trash picking, herbal brewing, weaponry, strong punches/kicks, using her parasite, carrying items

 Occupation: Trash Queen, trash picker, body disposer

Family: Kanga (Older angel sister)

Unnamed Mother

Unnamed Father

Friends: ?

Enemies: ?

Status: Inactive in the show (as of 2020)

Voice actor: N/A.

First appearance: N/A

 Appearance:

Roo is a Kangaroo demon. She has wild aburn hair, partially black and partially brown and curly in the shape of flames. Her eyes are orange with white iris and heavy eyelids. Her skin is pale with orange freckles.

 Roo wears an orange dress with sleeves in spike designs. She wears a checkered pin and chain necklaces, plus black bands on her arms. She also wears a black, magenta like wide brimmed hat with an orange and white checkered design on the inside.

 Abilities:

Natural abilities: Demon Transformation

Like every other demon, Roo possesses the ability to transform into her Full Demon Form and back to her default form with ease.

 Skillset:

Hand-to-hand combat: Roo can deliver strong punches and kicks like kangaroos.

 Weaponry: Roo can use guns and knives and is shown to store an angelic blade for emergencies.

 Item hoarding: Roo has the ability to store items inside her natural expandable pouch and retrieve them.

 Parasite Summoning: Though hard to control at times, Roo can summon her parasite to attack demons and dig through trash by opening her mouth.

 Herbal brewing: Roo has knowledge on herbs and uses them for tea, healing and poisoning other demons.

 Music: Roo can play the didgeridoo, the bullroarer and other Aboriginal Australian instruments as well as some other classic European/Western ones.

 Building and recycling: Roo’s house is made of trash fused together and her clothing is made from recycled material.

 Trivia:

Roo is Australian. Her name, “Roo” is Australian slang for kangaroo.

 Roo’s name is also slang for an ugly, clumsy, or idiotic woman in Australian. This is fitting, given her crazed nature and appearance.

 Roo is French for herb,” Rue also means “Street” or “regret.”

 Her sister’s name, Kanga, is the other part of kangaroo. Her name is slang for “police officer,” or “travel bug.”

 Kanga was the more obedient sibling, and thus the favored one. Roo was frequently jealous of her beauty and popularity. The final straw came when Kanga/Kahla almost got her arrested for her body disposing crimes and her rebellious attitude.

 Kanga is an angel and kangaroo humanoid while Roo is a demon. Roo shows no real desire to see her again, but will go into a confrontation if she does see her.

 Roo can play the didgeridoo, the bullroarer and other Aboriginal Australian instruments as well as other classic European/Western ones.

 Cherri Bomb is another character who was originally from Australia.

 The unofficial shipping name for Cherri Bomb and Roo would be RoomerBang (combination of Roo and boomerang)

 All the chapters are trash puns (Down in the Dumps, One Person’s Trash Is Another’s Treasure, Let’s Blow This Dump, etc.)

 “Thank You For The Venom” may be a fitting My Chemical Romance song for her.

  Chapter One: One Person’s Trash Is Another’s Treasure

 Junkyards and landfills were not pleasant places to be at.

 This was especially true in Hell.

 Along with drinking, using drugs, gambling and killing people, the denizens of Hell wasted food and littered like there was no tomorrow. Indeed, it was not uncommon to see broken bottles, cans, paper, and plastic strewn about in the streets. Much of the garbage in Hell ended up in towering landfills…taller than the ones in Australia and the most populated countries on Earth. Nearby, hazardous chemicals flowed into the fiery lakes and oceans, adding to the already torturous experience of the souls trapped underneath. Water, let alone clean water, was a rare concept among the fiery inferno…hence the alcoholic drinks being the most common beverage.

 The rotting overpowering stench steered many demons away from the landfills beyond the wired fence.

 Save for one demon who, more or less, called the vast yard of junk home.

 The woman was currently on her knees on the ground in front of a large pile of rubbish. She wore torn black pants, dark high boots and a jacket made from tanned leather that was originally Hellhound dung. Her undershirt was bright orange and a black and white checkered pin was stuck on the left side of the jacket.

 Her hair was wild and wavy, aburn in color. Her hair was black at the crown of her head and ended in a lighter brown at the ends. Some of the ends of her hair curled up and flowed out like flames. In fact, a few areas of her clothing had peeled apart, the pieces slowly floating away. The demon had white skin with tiny orange spots on it. But it was her bright orange eyes with white pupils and her rows of sharp teeth that made her intimidating. An incinerating fire seemed to crackle throughout her body, remaining sealed in by the demon’s willpower alone.

 Digging her sharp claws into the pile, the demon rummaged through the array of discarded items, before ending up with a handful of trash in her white hands. She placed it on the ground and peered closely at it. She sorted through it, tossing aside bits of plastic with her fingertips. She spotted what looked like the remains of a demon finger. She popped it into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully before continuing her work. Toward the end, she brushed aside some paper and found something glinting…a soul. Not the essence of a being but rather, a form of Hell’s currency. The demon smiled and picked up the shiny black coin.

 “Roo, you’ve done it again,” she praised herself. “Demons just don’t know what they throw away.”

 Roo pocketed the coin in a jean pocket and rummaged through more piles. Unlike the day before, she had gotten lucky in a few hours. She had found a near-empty bottle of whisky, half of a gold necklace, some rope, and some old boots. She pulled down her pants a little, exposing her pale stomach. With several grunts, the area below her stomach jutted out until a large natural pouch was revealed. It looked similar to a pouch of a mother kangaroo and had a similar function to it. Unlike kangaroos though, Roo stored weapons and materials in there. She deposited her treasures inside before retracting the pouch back into herself.

 Time for the next stage of the job.

 Roo was already used to the stench of garbage…her nose was barely there, so she hardly smelled much of anything. As she was already dead, she didn’t have to worry as much about infections and disease. Still, she was always careful about who or what she came into contact with. Like unknown containers, demons could be valuable at first glance but actually be laced with toxicity.

 At last, she made her way back to her home…a trash home fit for a queen.

 The entrance was actually at the top of a temple made of trash, crates, and fused pieces of paper and glass. The temple had five different layers, each getting smaller and narrower toward the top. It was reminiscent of a small Aztec temple. She walked up the stairs until reaching the top. The top was covered by a round mound of trash glued together forming a sort of round roof. She walked into the small open cave and glanced down at a wooden trapdoor. She pressed a button lodged into the wall and the door opened. Without hesitation, she jumped down into the square opening.

 Flop!

 Roo landed safely on a soft bouncy mattress at the bottom. She stepped off the mattress and headed through the first underground opening.

 Roo’s lair was, in fact, underground, the exit consisting of a set of stairs that led up to a spot just outside the junkyard. The walls were made of a combination of rock and trash fused together. There was wiring along the walls to provide light and electricity. The windows were made of multicolored glass set within the walls in each room. Down a narrow hallway, an arched smooth concave area in a wall showed boomerangs of different shapes on display. On another wall were weapons, axes and a few guns. Plus there lay a single angelic spear which she had traded a bucket of opals and souls for on the black market…and nearly got killed getting it.

 The living room and kitchen were small and humble. There was a square wooden table with a checkered cloth for eating, a stove, a sink, a refrigerator, some chairs, and some wooden shelves attached to the wall. An array of potions and herbs stood on the shelves, some pushed further back into shadowed corners. In the living room was an old flowered couch, an orange rug and an old fashioned TV with large knobs off to the upper right. The lights overhead were round, with several air shafts in the ceiling. A small slope of rock with a handle bar led up to the bathroom. Pictures of monstrous kangaroos hopping in fiery fields and demon meat set tastefully on platters decorated the walls of the living room.

 Roo made it into her bedroom, a room with a queen size bed and a tubular fluorescent light over the headboard. 60s and 70s style abstract artwork hung on the walls, while skulls of demons and mythical creatures lined the shelves. Her most prized skull was that of a crocodile demon, whom she had wrestled over a box of gold and opals. Another bastard demon had stolen the box while they were distracted. Roo had promptly killed the crocodile without mercy. She had managed to get several fallen opals, which she kept in a special spot on her dresser. She opened up her closet and found the outfit she was looking for.

 Moments later, she was dressed in a bright orange dress that ended half way up her upper legs. The front collars of the dress by her shoulders had spiked edges as part of the design. A black and white checkered pin was pinned onto the front. Black bands encircled her arms along with a dark choker around her neck. Tall black boots covered her feet, while two chain necklaces dangled and clinked when she moved. Her look was completed with an Akubra style hat with a wide brim, outlined orange. The hat itself was similar to her hair color, black to a brownish color, perhaps maroon. The hat had a small pinkish orange circular design on the top. Once Roo was ready, she made her way up and out the exit door, taking care to lock it. Stepping back into the Hellish heat wasn’t pleasant…her home provided her with brief relief.

 Roo swayed her hips as she walked into the Hell 666 club. The interior was noisy and vibrant. The walls and ceiling were coated in neon pinks, purples and blues, with openings of a large aquarium visible. Eels, sharks and fish swam around in the water, providing a more relaxing atmosphere for stressed out patrons. Several demons sitting at round white-clothed tables stopped and stared at her. Their eyes held a mixture of awe and disgust. Roo ignored the hushed mutters as she passed.

 “Is that the trash lady?”

 “Yeah, the Aussie girl.”

 “She would be hotter if she weren’t so dirty all the time.”

 “A scum living among the garbage. So glad I’m not her. She’s an ugly, clumsy bitch!”

 “If she likes to get down and dirty, then I’ll happily give her a few pointers. Heh, heh, heh.”

 There was a series of “phews” and cat calls that rang in her ears. Roo took a seat at the bar next to a blue muscular dragon with orange tattoos along his arms. The dark blue bull bartender stomped over and noticed her. “Yeah?”

 “Hit me up with a cold one if you please,” she said. “Gores Fight 1969.”

 She reached into her pocket and fished out several soul coins. The bartender took them and marched off.

 The blue muscular dragon turned to a slender light blue dragon next to him. The dragon stabbed a knife into the table and grinned up at a TV overhead.

 The muscular blue dragon turned to his friend and a pink overlord dragon with wild yellow hair. He laughed when he watched Charlie on TV.

 “Is this girl for real? Ha! Does she think…oh she’s haha…oh she’s nuts!”

 Roo glanced up and heard that Charlie was talking about some kind of hotel that was going to be used to redeem sinners. What a joke. Roo perceived her as a secluded princess who decided to make a public joke after being cooped inside for so long. Hell really was a burning madhouse inside a circus. Or was it circus inside a madhouse?

 Roo turned to the blue muscular dragon and put on her most innocent face. “Greetings my fine fellow dragon. Need something to drink?”

 The dragon scoffed and made a face. “If you’re talking about it that way, hell no. You’re not my type.”

 “No, I mean to actually drink.”

 She pulled out the near empty bottle from her pouch.

 “Not from that dirty glass,” scoffed the dragon. “Looks like someone threw it out!”

 “And what fools they are,” she added, already conjuring up a scam. “This is not just any drink. This is liquor from the oldest bar in Hell. This bottle is said to have been full during the last freeze over in Hell…occurs every 100 years or so. Lilith herself drank from this very bottle before storing it away.”

 “Ha! No way!”

 “DNA and spit never lie. Taste it for yourself.”

 The dragon reached for the bottle but Roo held it out of reach. “It’ll cost you…let’s say twenty souls.”

 “Twenty souls?! Nonsense! Even if the queen did drink from it, it’d be worth far less. Like one and a half.”

 “Turning down an opportunity just like that? And they say I’m trash.”

 “I’ll pay you two souls.”

 “Twenty. Nothing more or less.”

 The dragon sighed and handed her twenty coins. Roo greedily stuffed them into her pouch. Her ice cold beer arrived in front of her and she happily gulped down several gulps.

 The dragon hastily spit out the contaminated whiskey. “You conning bitch! Give me back my money!”

 “Finders keepers,” she grinned.

 “I’ll kill you right here and now!”

 She stood up and calmly smoothed out her dress. “How about this? You’ll have to pay me extra if you want to keep your arms.”

 The two of them made their way to the center of the area. The crowd glanced up at them, some of them eager to see a fight, while others rolled their eyes at the sight of another Tuesday brawl.

 The dragon rushed at her and she dodged, dashing under tables and avoiding his thick fists. The dragon growled and clenched his fists, landing a painful blow to her stomach. Roo grunted out loud and managed to roll out of the way before the dragon slammed a fist into the floor. Roo lacked the dragon’s strength, but her lighter frame made her more agile and faster. Several times, she mocked the dragon, tearing her claws against his skin, which was more of an annoyance than a discomfort.

 “You know, I’ve had a long fucking day,” the dragon grunted. “So how about I take whatever you have in your pouch and be on my way.”

 “I don’t think so, you brute.”

 “Heh, heh, heh, little lady has a death wish!”

 The dragon let out an intimidating roar, but Roo remained unfazed.

 “You hungry? Get ready for a knuckle sandwich!” he called.

  Scratching and sharp moving sensations erupted in her core. It felt like hunger mixed with kicks and sharp pains. If one listened closely, they could hear low growls from inside her. Roo was indeed, hungry.

But she was not the only one.

 Roo grinned, staring down at herself. Her voice grew lower and distorted. “I think it’s time to eat.”

 She opened her fanged mouth wide. Drops of dark colored spit and blood poured down onto the floor, dark magenta in color. Emerging from her mouth was an orange serpent-like creature. It was a slender parasite with white spikes all over its body. The small head had a single white eye on top, with longer spikes jutting from the crown. Smaller spikes were curled in near its mouth like spider pinchers. On its side was another large white eye, outlined in an orange aura.

 In addition, the creature had two kinds of appendages. One were several pairs of metallic legs with little orange spots on them. The ends of the insect-like legs had blades fastened to them. At least a dozen small black tendrils were also connected to the creature, including a larger black clawed appendage with glowing white-orange eyes inside.

 “What the fuck is that?!” the blue dragon yelled, his eyes wide with fear.

 The blue dragon soon found out when the parasite leapt toward him, legs ready. The dragon ducked and promptly ran for his life. A lighter colored blue dragon charged forward, only to have the creature slice a good cut onto the scales of his neck. The dragon roared in pain and tossed the creature away. He stared at the cut in disbelief…almost nothing else save for an angelic weapon could pierce through dragon hide. The parasite landed on the ground, right next to a demon. He was a green man who had catcalled Roo earlier.

 Roo’s brown and black hair flickered wildly, increasing in heat.

 “Still wanna call me hot?” she asked playfully to him.

 Without warning, the parasite jumped and attacked the green demon, tearing his clothes with the bladed limbs. Several demons raced for the exit, only to be grabbed by the creature’s tentacles and pulled back, screaming. The parasite held several demons in its larger black claw. The parasite opened its fanged mouth and took several deadly bites. The green man’s eyes rolled to the back of his head after a high pitched wail escaped his mouth. His blood, energy and life force left him, as the parasite drank it up from the bleeding wound in his chest. The man fell still and appeared lifeless.

 “Hey, isn’t that the guy who could hypnotize people?” one demon asked, holding a knife in shaking hands.

 “That’s right,” Roo said from behind him. Her orange eyes glowed in the dimness of the room. The demon reeled back in terror.

 “Roo continued. “He won’t have his powers anymore if he ever survives.”

 Roo then grinned and pointed upwards. The demon barely had time to look when the parasite landed and bit hard into his face, causing him to stumble and fall. Roo used the opportunity to steal several glasses of beer and stuff them into her pocket. Roo kangaroo-kicked a beetle demon hard, sending her backwards and cracking her ribs. A long spiked kangaroo tail emerged from Roo’s lower back, the appendage swiping away several demons who had tried to reach her. The bull bartender ran for his life. Roo glanced back and the fallen male demon already had his heart ripped out. The last chunks of organs were traveling down inside the parasite in small round bulges. Blood coated the parasite’s orange body and white limbs.

 The unleashed beast began to feast in a frenzy. It leapt from demon to demon, biting into them, sucking out their energy, or in some cases, traveling inside them before bursting out in a shower of blood. There was hardly anyone left in the facility after the parasite was done. The creature consumed and swallowed several of the corpses, not even leaving any bones behind. There were a few unconscious demons left…and those were the ones that the parasite had laid fresh eggs in, shaped like small glowing eyes. Roo herself, feasted on the remaining dead…fresh flesh had never tasted so good. She could see why it was the favorite classic food of demons.

 There would be quite a few sick demons in the near future. Roo laughed at the thought.

 Roo casually pulled off a dead demon’s arm and munched on it. She swung the arm at a demon straining to stand…he was soon knocked out.

 “Another good trash pickup,” Roo said with a sigh as she disposed and burned the rest of the remains. It was as mundane to her as successfully cleaning a house or yard would be to a human. Every year, Roo would be assigned the most horrific jobs in the sewers, having to pick up trash, poop and other waste from careless demons. And every year after the Exterminators attacked, Roo and the parasite would roam the streets, disposing of bodies and consuming them. When she wasn’t paid, which was nearly all the time, she would scam others for money, often posing as a prostitute or dancer. Any lone passerby who intruded on the Trash Queen’s territory was promptly burned or crushed in a landfill.

 Indeed, Roo was often looked down upon due to her roles in Hell. She was a rebel and a delinquent, with a ferocious side that often longed to break free…in this case it did.

 “Satisfied?” Roo asked the creature.

 The chaotic being chittered and rumbled in confirmation. It scurried over to her on its legs before stopping at her feet. The white and black appendages retracted into itself, along with the spikes. Its worm-like body wagged and wiggled, like it was ready to pounce, but it wasn’t in an aggressive way. The eye blinked several times. Roo knew what it wanted. Roo opened her mouth again and the creature sprang back into the mouth of its host. The body and tail vanished down her throat before she closed her mouth. Roo felt more energy and nutrients flow through her. She felt the creature curl up in her core and settle down. Roo’s tail and demonic features retracted as she turned back to her default form.

 The parasite would always need to feed every day, least it start gnawing at Roo’s insides after too long. Fortunately, Roo was diligent in caring for the creature. It couldn’t endure Hell’s heat and dryness for too long, so it lived in the more habitable environment inside Roo. The creature shared Roo’s common diet of blood and meat...the typical demon diet. Roo couldn’t remember when she had first made contact with the thing, but ever since then, it never left.

 A pleased and full Roo made her way out of the club and out onto the street. Blood stained her mouth and clothes but it could easily be washed later on. Nearby, a dumpster exploded from one of the red shaped bombs thrown by Cherri Bomb. Roo casually watched the battle between Sir Pentious and his Egg minions versus Angel Dust and Cherri Bomb.

 “Hell will be mine!” declared the snake inventor villain from inside his ship.  She was dressed elegantly in a gray suit with yellow stripes with a matching gray top hat with an eye and sharp yellow teeth like its owner. “And everybody will know the name of Sir…”

 “Edgelord!” a voice taunted.

 “Pardon?! Who said that?” he demanded.

 He leaned in close to two Egg Bois and hissed. “What did you just say to me, you fried chicken fetuses?!”

 The eggs quivered.

 “Speak up!” he hissed.

 “Um it wasn’t us, Mr. Bossman!” said an egg.

 Just then, a bomb shaped like a red cherry with a black skull on it, crashed through the window, flipped through the air and landed with a few bounces on the floor. The fuse was lit and a spark traveled down the wire. Sir Pentious and the eggs flinched before the bomb exploded into thick red clouds of smoke. Sir Pentious coughed and shook his head.

 “You looking for a fight, old man?” asked Cherri Bomb with a grin.

 She was a white cyclops demon with blonde and pink hair tied back into a long ponytail. She wore a high pink boot with white stripes on it on her left foot and a white and pink sock on her right foot. She had long black leggings with holes in them. Merging into her leggings on top was a pink bottom with white circles on it. Her medium pink crop top was short and was looped over her left shoulder, with a black bra underneath. A black x was shown on the crop top over her left breast. She wore black fingerless gloves that extended to her elbows, black on the left arm, gray with stripes and hearts on her right arm. A large pink eye with a yellow x on it took up much of her face, along with a grin of sharp white teeth. Freckles dotted her pale skin.

 Cherri Bomb was catching another bomb in her right hand.

 “Why don’t you get that pathetic tinker toy bullshit off my turf before I smash it…”

 A barrel crashed to the floor…

 “…more.” She finished.

 “Oh, you wanna go miss?” asked the snake. He flipped back his hood. “Well, I’d be happy to oblige!” He laughed as the Egg Bois marched forward with stun guns.

 “Catch me if you can, snakeman!”

 Cherri dodged the blasts and jumped out of the ship. She landed with a graceful flip on the ground before running off to summon more bombs and explosives.

 “I like my eggs scrambled!” she declared, after brutally stomping on several eggs in her way. Cherri dodged green laser blasts from Sir Pentious’ blaster and threw an egg with a spin into Sir Pentious’ face. An egg held a flag that said “Boss’s number one fan.”

 Sir Pentious threw the egg back but Cherri threw another bomb and caught the egg with both hands. She cracked the egg in half with a swift knee jab. She lifted up the shells and enclosed the bomb inside. The egg flew back at Sir Pentious’ face in a blast of smoke.

 “This woman has some great spunk,” Roo thought.

 Soon, Angel Dust stomped on an egg and joined the fight. A pink explosion went off as Cherri and Angel continued to fight. Cherri held a metal gun while Angel took cover behind a rock.

 “Hey, thanks for the backup, Angie,” Cherri said.

 Angel Dust smiled and threw a bomb over his shoulder. Cherri fired a red blast from the cannon. A pink explosion followed.

 “Haha! Are you kidding? This is the best action I’ve seen in ages!”

 “Where’ve you been, anyway? I thought you up and died or some shit.”

 She removed a fuse with a loop on it from a bomb.

 “Oh I wish,” Angel replied, as he lit another bomb with a match. Cherri took a bomb with a light pink skull on it from Angel.

 Angel continued. “I’ve been staying at this crappy hotel on the other side of town.”

 Cherri threw the bomb and took cover beside Angel.

 “Some boards are letting me stay rent free if I play nice,” Angel said. Both of them covered their ears as the bomb exploded in a column of neon green smoke. They jumped over the rock and out into the open.

  Angel blasted continuous rounds of gunfire at oncoming egg bois.

 “Ya know, no fights, no pranks, no problematic, language. Her words, not mine.”

  He stomped on the ground, sending an egg boi flying into the sky toward the pentagram before it exploded in a yok mess.

 Angel held a club in one of his other hands.

 “These crazy bitches are no fun. I’ve been clean for two weeks!”

 Another bomb exploded in green clouds as Cherri skidded in the background. “Holy shit!” she called as she jumped back into action, with two bombs in her hands.

 Angel Dust was covered in egg yok. He dipped a finger in yok from his cheek. “Well, sorta clean,” he grinned. He smashed an egg to bits with his club.

 “As clean as you can get with a shitload of Bolivian marching powder.”

 Just then, black chains wrapped tightly around Angel’s waist. Cherri gasped as her friend was thrown hard to the ground a distance away by Sir Pentious.

 Angel landed and grinned.

 “Oh, harder daddy,” he teased in a flirtatious tone.

 Sir Pentious’ eyes teared up. “Son?!”

 Angel Dust raised his eyebrows and stared in disbelief.

 Cherri Bomb drop kicked Sir Pentious, knocking him to the ground. He hissed in anger and stood up.

 “You whores have no class! In war, the side remembered is the side with the most…style.” He sprang his bow tie for emphasis.

 “Or the side that ain’t dead,” Cherri retorted, breaking an egg boi in half and tossing it aside. Angel stood beside her, now free.

 “Speaking of style, is your hat like, alive or something?” Angel asked, wiggling his glowed fingers.

 “Well that’s none of your goddamn business, now is it?!” Sir Pentious retorted.

 “Wouldn’t that make your hat the top and you the bottom?”

 Angel and Cherri burst into laughter. “Ooooh,” said one of the eggs. “That’s one hellish burn.” A sign reading “loser” was pointed at Sir Pentious. Sir Pentious slapped the minion.

 “I’m gonna blow you to bits!” he declared at them.

 “Oh, kinky,” Angel grinned.

 “Not like that, pervert!” Sir Pentious yelled, pointing a finger.

 Angel Dust suddenly pushed Cherri out of the way as an Egg Boi behind him shot four black claws with eyes at Angel from a gun. The claws grabbed Angel’s wrists, preventing him from escaping.

 Sir Pentious grinned. “Not so cocky now, are we?”

 “Ya know, you really need to watch what comes out of your mouth,” Angel remarked. “I’ve been making these sex jokes this whole time.”

 Angel Dust narrowly dodged a metal spike coming out of the ground.

 “And it’s obvious you ain’t catching on. I mean it’s just sad!”

 Angel Dust grew two extra arms and there were guns in his hands. He blasted at Sir Pentious, freeing himself. Sir Pentious’ hat fell off.

 “Don’t you think you’re gonna get into a lot of trouble for this?” Cherri asked, walking sideways.

 Angel shrugged and retracted his extra arms. “Eh. What’s one more little brawl gonna cause?”

 “Glad you haven’t changed!” Cherri said, playfully elbowing him. “You know you’re my favorite guy to party with!”

 “You know it, sugar tits,” he replied.

 Cherri Bomb rolled another bomb over her shoulders before catching it. “You ready to finish this?”

 Angel clicked his gun. “Born ready, baby!”

 The two of them yelled as they charged at Sir Pentious. Sir Pentious eventually fled and Angel went off to ride in a white limbo to the hotel. Cherri sang as music played from her Walkman: “Hello, dad, hello mom, I’m your ch-ch-ch-ch, cherry bomb!”

 A few days later, Roo saw Cherri Bomb again and hid behind a wall to watch. This time she didn’t appear to be as happy and wild.

 Cherri Bomb thought back to when she comforted Angel Dust in bed after he had a rough night with Valentino. After that had happened, she blew up an advertisement sign with Valentino’s face on it. The face of her ex boyfriend would often come back to her: a man wearing white overalls, him having a gray face with a single hypnotizing eye, white hair, a spiked hat and an evil stitched up grin. The critical eyes of her brother and father also stared at her in her mind.

 Like other sinners, Cherri had been former human as well, having been born in the 60s in Australia and dying in the 80s at young adulthood from an explosion. Her sexuality was rumored to be bi, and she had been a radical rocker redhead feminist as a human.

 Cherri had fallen in love with another guy, who promised her money and power. But instead, he took advantage of her. Her father disapproved of both her rebellious behavior…and her bisexuality. Cherri’s boyfriend had kept the money for himself, while her father criticized her for her behavior and the friends she hung out with.

 It was all pretty much a repeat of what had happened in her living life…except without the dying by explosions bit.

 Cherri wondered how Angel Dust was faring with his Italian mafia family. Angel got along with his bubbly pink spider sister Molly, while he remained distant from his authoritative grey father Henroin and recluse black colored brother Arackniss. His white spider mother, Aranea, was in Heaven. Angel and his family had previously lived in New York when they were alive. Angel’s father did not approve of Angel leaving the mafia to pursue his porn star career and living life (and death) as a gay man. With being stuck under a contract from the moth pimp Valentino plus his addiction of drugs, drinking and the angel dust drug that had previously killed him, it seemed like the white spider had no way out.

  Cherri sat down on a ledge and opened up her laptop. She wished she could do more to help out her friend. Roo peered off, hidden by the wall. She crept forward to get a closer look. The VoxTube video on the computer read “Addict: Angel Dust At Peep Show/Cherri Bomb In Action.” The video had been filmed by officials at Hell Club 666.

 Angel and Cherri’s voice came from Cherri’s laptop, showing Angel Dust performing at a strip club, Valentino greedily watching. Angel stood as a silhouette against a glowing pink web with a heart on it. Angel spun several times around the pole.

 Angel’s voice came first as he sang:

 “’Till death do us part, but we’re already past that phase

This is a brand new start and I think I deserve some praise

For the way that I am

Despite having overdosed and ending up comatose

I don’t give a damn”

 Valentino eagerly watched the show from a couch, two furry women beside him. Valentino’s red smoke from his cigarette morphed into a hand that stroked Angel under his chin. Angel walked down the stairs and strolled down the aisle.

 “I’ve let my emotions go,

Fuck being a sober hoe

This is my mantra, this is my life

You’re playing with now ‘till the end of the night

Surrounded by fire, the passion ignites”

 Angel kicked a drooling Travis in the face with his boot.

 Valentino’s red smoke turned into manacles around his wrists and neck for a brief second. Angel inhaled the hearts in the smoke, then lay down and posed some more. A crowd of imps and demons watched, throwing money at Angel.  

 The video did not show Cherri Bomb comforting Angel in his room, though she remembered that clearly.

 “A hint of that Heaven and Hell, a helluva high”

 “I’m addicted to the madness

This hotel is my Atlantis”

 Hotel? What hotel? Roo was confused.

 “We’re forever gonna have a fucking reason to sin

Let me leave my soul to burn and I’ll be breathing it in”

 Angel pushed a beer bottle off the aisle. The camera moved to a ground burning with green flames. Cherri stood up on the roof, tossing a metal bomb in her hand. She leapt from roof to roof in the rain, throwing bombs to her heart’s content. She spun around and fired a bomb at a Valentino sign after flipping the bird.

 Cherri Bomb then sang in the video next, Cherri cringing at hearing her recorded voice:

 “I’m addicted to the feeling…”

 Then the video skipped to Angel Dust climbing the pole:

 “…getting higher than the ceiling

And we’re never gonna want this fucking feeling to end”

 Skipping back to Cherri swinging from a pole on the roof…

 “Just concede and give in to your inner demons again.”

 “This video editing is marvelous,” Cherri breathed. “Though I’m gonna blow the person who spied on me to bits.”

 The video then showed Valentino’s red limo driving in the rain. The one who filmed the video did not know what went on inside the limo. Valentino’s female clients kissing. Angel sitting next to Valentino, holding just enough money to get by. Valentino counting his money and grabbing Angel’s hand hard, forcing him to look up. Valentino gripping him hard by his chin. His tongue was out in front of Angel. He wanted Angel to kiss him, but Angel flinched away. Valentino forcefully pulled him in closer as the car kept driving.

 Only Cherri knew of Angel throwing his wine glass against the wall in his room, then collapsing in a tearful heap against his bed.

 The video switched bold letters read at the bottom: “Cherri captured singing on roof.”

 Roo listened as Cherri sang next, her eyes widening in admiration. Despite Cherri’s tendency to blow stuff up and be vicious, she had a kind side to her. And oh was her singing voice beautiful!

 “Yeah, you fell in love, but you fell deeper in this pit

While death rains from above, so count your blessings ‘cause this is it”

 Cherri leaned against a ledge as it rained. She walked over a puddle among broken green bottles. That day, Cherri had imagined her father’s face in the water…the memories not leaving. She fiddled with a bomb before flicking it to the ground. It exploded in a flash of pink. For some reason, Roo hated seeing this stranger sad.

 Cherri turned around and twirled on the roof.

  “You’re not letting it go

So what if I misbehave? It’s what everybody craves

You already know

So, come if you’re feeling brave and fancy yourself a mate

You want it, I got it, see what you like

We could have it all by the end of the night

Your money and power, my sinful delight

A hint of that Heaven and Hell, a helluva high”

 Cherri twirled around in front of a green neon sign that read Addict. TNT crates, round bombs and bundles of red fuses wrapped up surrounded the sign. Cherri loved seeing all those bombs everywhere. Already, she had felt more powerful and confident. She took out a lighter switch, pressed the button and everything blew up in pink smoke. Cherri dove off the roof, belly first, arms out with a grin on her face and spun as the video faded to white.

 “Don’t worry, she ain’t dead!” read the words against the screen. Cherri had to laugh a little at that part.

 Cherri and Angel would often imagine themselves dancing at an aquarium club, themed blue and pink before running out together and blowing it up. They would get ready in their dressing rooms before going on stage. She would be wearing a single yellow star over her eye, a cyclops version of sun glasses.  Cherri imagined herself twirling around, throwing bombs at the tables and chairs. A pink coat would be over her shoulders, reading “Cherri” on it and decorated with red cherries. And Angel Dust would be dancing beside her in tall boots, glasses, pink gloves, and a tight black corset outfit. They would spin around the poles and have a blast…immersed in pure freedom.

 But both Angel and Cherri knew…that it was all a dream.

 Cherri could almost hear her and Angel singing together.

 “I’m addicted to the madness

This hotel is my Atlantis

We’re forever gonna have a fucking reason to sin

Let me leave my soul to burn and I’ll be breathing it in

I’m addicted to the feeling, getting higher than the ceiling

And we’re never gonna want this fucking feeling to end

Just concede and give in to your inner demons again”

 “Just concede and give in to your inner demons again.”

I’m addicted to the feeling, getting higher than the ceiling

And we’re never gonna want this fucking feeling to end

Just concede and give in to your inner demons again”

 There was something else that only Angel Dust knew. The moment at the hotel when Charlie tried to comfort him, but he declined and turned his back on her. Other than Cherri, he had no reason to risk trusting anyone else. In addition, he had only known Charlie for a short time. He walked into his bedroom, and there was his pet pig, Fat Nuggets, looking up at him, his spots briefly glowing pink in the dark. A neon “love” sign was on the wall, along with clothes and porn magazines. There was a poster of fat Nuggets on the wall. His room had wigs on stands and several mirrors with round lights around the frames, like those at the studio. Angel picked up the pig and stared into the mirror.

 Helpless…

 A horrible flashback seared into Angel Dust’s mind: him wearing fluffy handcuffs and being anally raped by a grinning Valentino in the porn studio dressing room. Angel froze in fear before walking toward his bed. He threw away a partially used cigarette into an ashtray. The angel dust, the drugs, the porn, and money…all were highs that he had been addicted to for years…but the pleasure was only temporary. The pleasure only masked the pain for so long, until it came back with an aching soreness. The smoke revealed a broken heart.

 “I’m addicted to the sorrow, and the buzz ends by tomorrow

There’s another rush of poison flowing into my veins

Giving me a dose of pleasure that resides by the pain

I’m addicted, I’m dependent

Looking, awesome, feeling helpless”

 He knew he would have to face a terrible decision: stay in Hell with Valentino, or stay at the Hazbin Hotel and try to redeem himself. Risk disappointment from his boss, or painfully change his habits for a promise of unknown freedom. But giving up violence, porn and drugs, the major parts of his life? Easier said than done. Giving up two of his arms surely sounded easier.

 Angel wasn’t sure what caused him to throw away the cigarette early. Perhaps he knew that it was somehow “wrong” and decided to give his body a break.

  Hopefully, he would be safe at the hotel for now, with some new friends. Fat Nuggets sensed his distress and licked him under his chin. Angel smiled. At least he had his pet with him too.

 “And I know I’m raising cane by every highway in hell

Maybe things won’t be so terrible inside this hotel.”

 Cherri Bomb sighed, closed her laptop and walked away. This just left Roo awed by her appearance and full of more questions in her mind.

 Where was she from? What was that hotel…could it be the same one that the princess talked about?

 Roo sighed and headed back home. “Hopefully, I’ll find out.”

     Chapter Two: Let’s Blow This Dump

 Back in her underground lair, Roo relaxed in her rectangular swimming pool of blood. In the room stood a wide array of plants, many of them with drooping leaves in multiple layers. The window consisted of glass shards of multiple colors fused together in a scattered design. On the white brick wall flanked by round lights was a large painting of the Australian outback. In it, the sky was blue and under it were tall signature red rocks on a dessert ground.

 Roo sank her head of wild hair into the lukewarm liquid, the strong metallic scent filling her nose. Like other swimming pools in Hell, the “goreine” chlorine in the water made the blood undrinkable. Her white freckled legs and body were barely noticeable in the murky liquid.

 Her mind was reeling over the events of the last several days. She had seen Angel Dust and Cherri Bomb fight Sir Pentious in an action-packed turf war without being noticed. Then again, not many demons wanted to notice her in the first place…or worse, get noticed by her. Like the kangaroo, Roo appeared strange and exotic at first glance. But whoever got too close was in for a rough beat down, and a most certain second death if she so wished.

 Just the other day, she had glimpsed at the video on Cherri Bomb’s laptop. She had no reason nor real desire to waste her time, but she stayed nonetheless. Roo figured out that Charlie’s hotel, was indeed, taking in clients for free to try and get them on the right path. Though Roo overheard Angel Dust saying that he was only staying because it was free. Would this Cherri Bomb person stay there as well?

 Roo kept asking herself why she had been so curious about Cherri. Perhaps it was the spunky, rebellious side to her that was hardly seen in many women…at least in her previous life. To be able to just summon bombs from her hands like magic…Roo wondered why she couldn’t create balls of fire or gold from hers. Then again, she did have a bottomless pouch and a parasite, so she wasn’t one to complain.

 And the video left her with more questions. Could a rehab hotel actually work, or was it just a rubbish rumor?

 Roo decided to brush the issue aside. True or not, it was of no concern to her. Demons could choose what they wanted to do and live their lives…provided they did not interfere with hers.

 Sighing, Roo stepped up the concrete stairs, shook off the blood drops from her skin, and wrapped herself in a black towel. She walked through the arched tunnels and climbed up the small slope to the dunny to wash up and do her business. She walked back down, dressed in thick brown clothes and a face mask.

 It was time to go to work.

 Roo strode toward a factory building, which was spewing endless black smoke out from a group of tall towering chimney pipes. She made her way to the double doors, which opened up in a cringe-worthy screeching sound.

 Roo took her place among other demons dressed in brown clothing, masks and gloves. In front of them was a conveyer belt and in the wall were large black pipes. A buzzer sounded and loads of trash fell through the holes and landed in a heap in front of the workers. The demons got busy, rummaging through the piles for items of value. There were boxes off to the right of each worker with different labels: precious metals, gems, weapons, recyclables, demon remains. The rest of the plastic and trash were pushed to the left into a slot where a lever would be pulled, sending it to the incinerator.

 “Come on, come on, you filthy sinning fetuses! Keep working!” called an employee with clapping claws. Adama. She was a tall woman with skin made of diamonds. She wore a long green skirt and a white top with her name tag and the company logo. Her coal-colored hair was pulled back into a tight bun. She was Hell Born, and loved treating sinners as the second class citizens they were. “You still have thirteen more hours to go! But don’t worry, your ten minute break will be in half that time.”

 Every hour, burly horned demon guards would patrol the area, some of them whipping the backs of the workers who slacked off. Roo herself got a few lashes when she found herself daydreaming. She tried not to cry out, for that would only elicit more whips and taunts. Her claws and hands were grimy and dirty, almost losing their usual whiteness.

 Between this job, prostitution and homelessness, Roo had chosen this laborious task in order to survive when she first manifested in Hell. Her hard work and a few lucky times allowed her to build her underground home and buy clothes, food and other necessities.

 Hour after hour Roo trudged and rummaged away. When her fellow employees weren’t looking, she opened her mouth, allowing the minion to peer through and slither out silently. It used its bladed legs and mouth to dig through big piles of trash. The creature opened its mouth to reveal several bullets. Roo grinned and placed them in the weapons box. She slurped the creature up before anyone noticed…though her boss shot her suspicious looks and narrowed eyes.

 “Unruly piece of scum,” Adama muttered, as she walked along, just loud enough for Roo to hear.

 The heat in Hell was unbearable enough, but having to stand near burning incinerators was almost torture. Sweat coated Roo’s forehead and under her arms…the heavy clothing wasn’t helping much. After several hours, the parasite pushed and kicked at her insides, begging to be let loose and to feed. She used her willpower to hold it down for as long as she could. She needed a smoke break, bad. After a brief lunch break of rotten meat and overcooked vegetables, the workers took their positions again.

 The boss wandered over to a small demon, who glanced at her nervously.

 “What have you got?”

 The demon pointed at the boxes with a shaking finger.

 “Hmm,” Adama said, observing the findings. “Only one piece of metal and a smelly old container? Those aren’t going to be worth selling in a blizzard. Give me more results at once.”

 “But…I’m tired,” the demon complained.

 The boss snickered and leaned in. “You’re tired? Is that right?”

 Adama mentioned to the other workers. “You hear him, he’s tired!” She spoke to him. “You were hired, you’re now tired. You know what comes next?”

 The demon gulped.

 The woman took out a coin. ”The answer: you will be fired! But how will that go, exactly?”

 She rubbed the coin in-between her fingers, everyone looking nervous.

 “Heads for you, tails for your home. Same goes for all.”

 One other worker had her home burned down after she tried to run away during her shift. The guards had caught her and brought her before Adama. The boss had flipped the coin to tails and she became homeless…resulting in working more hours.

 The coin flipped in the air, all eyes watching it. The coin landed in the boss’s clear palm. She grinned rows of glassy teeth.

 “Heads up!”

 Oh no.

 Two horned guards wearing gas masks over their faces picked up the demon by his arms, his screams and struggling doing him no good.

 Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Don’t panic.

 A lever was pulled and a metal hatch opened up to a low shaft. A shaft of flames. A steep fall into a burning pit with nothing in the walls to hold onto.

 “No, no, no, stop!” the demon begged, as he was dragged forward. In swift motions, the yelling demon was thrown by the guards through the opening, his yelling growing fainter as he fell into the fiery pit. The hatch closed with a clang of finality.

 “Fuck,” Roo breathed, clutching at her stomach and head. She ignored the staring eyes around her.

 Roo’s heart appeared to stop (again). She hunched over, her body and arms shaking. The windowless room and heat appeared to suffocate her, the walls appeared to close in. The flashes burst into her head as she stared at the flames through another opening.

 Running like crazy from police footsteps. Maneuvering her way through a factory. The yells of her sister as officers closed in. Jumping onto a pile of trash to avoid being arrested. Her feet slipping on paper and junk, sliding down into a lower level. A man shoving her further away among the junk, for her dumping his girlfriend’s body. Her sister screaming her name as she struggled to free herself. The metal and scraps cutting into her skin as she struggled to free herself. Being pinned down by the crushing debris. Screaming for her family as she was moved mechanically into an incinerator and burned alive…

 “Is there a problem here, Miss Roo?”

 Roo jolted back up, and stared into the stone cold grey eyes of her boss.

 “N-n-no mam’,” she responded.

 “Let me see the boxes and your pouch.”

 Roo moved aside as the woman looked through the boxes.

 “Several bullets, containers with no toxic elements. Lots of steel scraps. Not too bad.”

 Roo pulled out the part of the gold necklace, some souls, an old box of cigarettes and several empty beer cans in reasonable condition.

 Adama scrutinized her findings, placing a finger to the smooth surface of her chin.

 “You got lucky this time,” she said, as she gathered the objects into a larger box. “These items will do at the market. But one of these days, you or your home will get burned to a crisp. Not that anyone else would care, seeing as you’re a dessert dwelling lowlife who got lucky.”

 “Bitch,” Roo seethed.

 “What was that?”

 “Nothing, mam’.”

 A growling sound rumbled in Roo’s throat. She could feel the slender body of the creature trying to climb out. She gripped her own throat, pushing it back down.

 The boss grit her teeth. “I’ve see you with your creature friend. Don’t even think about attacking me or anybody else with it. My skin can withstand sharp objects and teeth.” She took the half gold necklace and stuffed it into her shirt.

 Then she mentioned to everyone, “Remember, anyone who finds an angelic weapon will receive a double raise and a higher position. Count yourselves lucky that you don’t have to slave away in the mines…yet! Now get back to work.”

  Roo’s legs and back were throbbing and sore by the time she arrived back home. It had taken her months to create it. To imagine it being burned away…gut-wrenching. She’d have to start all over. Scratch that, it would be all over for her. Trash piles could only help hide her so much. She would be homeless and at the mercy of predatory demons. Single homeless demons were pretty much fresh meat. She wouldn’t let that happen…she couldn’t. But how much longer could she keep working, when her boss practically wanted her to fail?

 Roo climbed up the stairs and freely fell onto the dirty mattress. It was the one where she briefly had sex with another male demon, before using her minion to devour him. It had been a most wonderful night.

 She stripped herself of the sweaty uniform before putting it in a hamper to wash later. She went to the bathroom to take a shower, before putting on some looser, lighter clothing: a torn black ACDC t-shirt, ripped jeans, and a spiked collar around her neck. More chain necklaces were draped around her neck. On her couch, she casually played an Australian didgeridoo decorated red and black like a snake. Traditionally only men would play the didgeridoo in ceremonies but in Hell, she was free to do as she wished. Feeling a gnawing in her stomach, Roo placed the instrument down and raced outside through the exit door.

 She couldn’t lose her home. Not the place where she was free to be herself and alone. Sure, Roo had her minion with her if she became homeless, but if it were to be captured, it would eventually die. If her minion were to die…she knew that she would get very sick. Her minion did more than just kill other demons and dig through trash…it helped defend her and keep her alive. With Roo having a compromised immune system, the parasite healed her wounds and attacked any viruses that entered her body. In exchange, Roo provided the creature with her body, a portion of her energy and daily food. The creature would reluctantly remain still and let Roo’s food be digested…most of the time.

 In the past, Roo had tried keeping the creature in her pouch…but it didn’t like the dry, cluttered environment.

 And speaking of which…

 “Urgh! Stop it!” Roo seethed as the beast racked through her body and squirmed from within her gut. The beast’s thick fur and spikes prevented her gut bacteria from absorbing it. The creature began eating up the walls of her stomach, and some of the stomach bacteria. The long hours of work and the hunger of the beast were coming back with a vengeance.

 She doubled down on her knees, nearly throwing up. The beast was hungry and wanted out. Having no choice, Roo opened her mouth wide, spewing out the creature in streams of dark spit and blood. The orange slick body grew white spider-like legs and the rough black clawed appendages with the eyes blinking in them. With shrieks and a clanking of its legs, the monster scurried off and attacked several demons nearby.

 The monster came back around ten minutes later, satisfied and coated in blood. Roo opened her mouth and the creature dashed inside before disappearing down her throat.

 Roo arrived home and began to play her didgeridoo again on the couch, this time playing an Australian Aboriginal tune she had learned when she was alive. She was amazed that she could still remember the song, let alone her past life.

 Arranged on a shelf in the kitchen were bottles of different herbs she used for cooking, healing, and make-up. Roo walked over and ground up several green leaves after removing them from the shelf, making a tea. The warm finished liquid was soothing for her stomach. Tucked in a shadow corner of a shelf were bottles with poison ivy, wormwood, and other deadly herbs to use on enemies. Lacing demon’s drinks with poisonous substances was a favorite pastime. There were even some fan shaped marijuana leaves in a jar that she occasionally used when smoking.

 Many outsiders, both on Earth and in Hell only saw Roo as a trash picker and vicious killer. But many did not know that Roo had other hobbies: singing, dancing, playing Australian instruments and working with herbs. She also enjoyed alternative fashion and art. Although Roo was somewhat clumsy in her dancing and screechy in her singing, she still enjoyed them very much. After taking several sips of her tea, Roo played a nearby guitar as she sang:

 “The downtrodden at the mercy of their fates

Burning in inferno, alone with no mates

Surrounded by rubbish, stuck in a bin

Living a life of sin, but no way to win”

 “What determines our new lives from the start?

Who would’ve thought my behavior could drift others apart?

I can feel my afterlife slowly burning away

Yeah there’s no other way, but to pray and stay”

 Roo, oh Roo

Whatever must you do

To keep your belly full and your mind intact

What to do, Roo, it’s all up to you

You’re stuck here forever, that’s just a fact”

  Roo had learned a quick lesson once she arrived in Hell: in order to survive, demons would have to know how to kill and use weapons…plus know how to sing, dance and/or play music. One had to be good at self-defense while also finding a way to get their points across, a.k.a. singing. Slaughtering and entertainment were the two essential things that would get demons further along in Hell. One had to be good at both. One could look at such examples as jazz loving Alastor, Angel Dust, Cherri Bomb, the ever musical Charlie and her parents to see how important these skills were.

 Perhaps the reason why the majority of demons killed, sang and danced were due to Lucifer himself. He enjoyed polka music and his family were also experts in the creative arts. Music and song, along with fashionable dress were excellent ways to both pass the time and to display a higher status. The two songs and dances that Charlie performed, along with the Alastor one, were just the beginning.

    A rumbling sound was soon heard from overhead. There were sounds of scurrying and the sounds of metal and plastic being scrapped around from outside.

 “Who the hell decided to visit me?” Roo thought, her claws extending into sharp black points.

 From the footsteps coming from many directions, it appeared to be more than one person.

 Blast. It was probably her boss and her cronies arriving to punish her. Could she never catch a break?

 Roo stepped outside and squinted into the sudden red light. She couldn’t believe her eyes.

 What she saw wasn’t her boss, but rather…round moving eggs? They were dressed in small pinstriped suits around their lower halves along with mini black top hats on their heads. The eggs had eyes and large mouths with jazzed edges that served as teeth. They moved on small legs and had small arms. Roo punched one of the eggs and it exploded in a yok mess around her.

 “Yuck,” she muttered.

 The Egg Bois were currently digging through the trash piles nearby, and carrying scraps of metal with them!

 “Hey! That stuff is not your own! The fuck are you doing on my turf?”

 She heard laughter from nearby. There was Sir Pentious himself holding a gun with a green electricity inside it. He was flanked by a dozen Egg Bois holding stun guns.

 The Industrial Revolution snake turned and looked at her, his fangs bared in a sinister smile.

 “Well, well, well, look what the rat dragged in today! What’re you doing in this filth, worm?”

 “FYI, I live here, bastard. Why are you so keen to barge into my turf?”

 Sir Pentious made a face and scoffed. “You call this your turf? I’ve seen homeless scum have more class than you. And to answer your question, I’m in need of some more metal and parts to repair my blimp. The one that cursed Alastor managed to destroy.”

 Alastor…she had heard his name before. Thankfully, she had never encountered the infamous Radio Demon.

 “You’re an inventor right?”

 “Why yes I am,” Sir Pentious replied, puffing his chest. “Only the greatest of my time! What’s it to you?”

 “Can’t you just gather parts somewhere else?”

 “I could, but I’m in a bit of a hurry, and a bad mood after what happened earlier,” he seethed, revealing a chipped fang and a swollen eye.

 “Ouch,” Roo remarked.

Sir Pentious hissed. “You mock me while living in this dump? What a filthy whore you are.”

 “The fuck did you just call me?”

 “Would you like me to say it again, in case you didn’t hear me?”

 “Boss,” said Egg #22. “I think the trash lady heard you just fine!”

 “Never you mind,” he spat, giving his minion a glare.

 “No need. You’ll be saying nothing after…this!” Roo declared, her mouth opening wide.

 “Bring it, missy!” Sir Pentious hissed, turning to his minions. “Get her!”

 The eggs scrambled towards her on their little feet and legs. Roo took hold of a nearby pipe and swiped several times at the eggs. The Egg Bois were sent flying into the air forwards before rolling on the ground as they fell. One egg trued to bite her leg but she kicked it away with a powerful roundhouse. Her fists shot through several more eggs before white and yellow egg yok splattered all over her face and clothes. Roo’s long tongue licked off the goop with a slurp.

 “You know, I’d much prefer meat. And I’d be more than willing to try snake!”

 One egg watched as he waved a flag in his hand that read “Boss’s #1 fan.” Roo’s parasite helped with attacking the eggs and keeping them at bay. Several eggs were lifting up a shiny piece of metal and scurrying toward their boss.

 “Oh no you don’t!” She whirled around and threw a rock in their direction. The stone clanged against the metal, causing the eggs to fumble with the piece. The Eggs and metal were sent flying with one swipe of Roo’s powerful tail. One egg managed to bite down into her tail and another fired a blast that impacted her foot.

 “Damn it!” she cursed, swishing her tail around to get the egg off. A jet of green energy narrowly missed her as it created a smoking hole in a trash pile next to her head.

 “Come out and face me, missy,” Sir Pentious called. “Or are you just gonna scurry back into your hole?”

 Another blast shook the ground, causing Roo to almost lose her balance. In fury, she raced out and attacked other eggs around her. The turf war went on for what seemed like hours. More and more eggs kept arriving and Roo was already starting to get worn out. Even her parasite was having trouble killing so many eggs at once. Sir Pentious shot a blast at the orange creature and it shrieked in pain, releasing the captured Egg Bois.

 “Not so tough now, huh?” he grinned, tongue flickering out as he advanced.

 “No, no, no, no,” she thought in frustration as she saw several more eggs carry off metal and tools back to the remains of Sir Pentious’ ship. They threw the scraps into a large cart before wheeling it away. Roo punched more Egg Bois and scurried behind more trash piles to avoid blasts from the Egg Bois’ guns and Sir Pentious’ blasts. Roo jumped high into the air to avoid a larger blast from Sir Pentious’ gun. The trash pile she had been taking cover behind, exploded in a flash of green smoke. One of the Egg Bois shot a claw from another gun. Roo managed to avoid several of the traps in midair before a third cable made her trip. She fell to the ground and rolled over as the Egg Bois closed in. Her arms were suddenly held back by more clawed cables. She struggled to free herself before a brief shock of electricity made her flinch back. Nearby, her parasite was also trapped in the black cables.

 The serpent villain slithered over to her, yellow eyes glowing, fangs showing against his menacing shadow figure. Fear was evident in her eyes as Sir Pentious aimed his blaster at her not too far away. There was no way he could miss now.

 “Any last wordssss?” he grinned.

 Roo lowered her head before opening her mouth. “Edgelord!” was spoken.

 “What did you just say to me?!”

 “I didn’t say anything…”

 Just then, a familiar slender cyclops woman did a graceful leap over the barbed wire fence, landing gracefully on the ground between Roo and Sir Pentious.

 “Still looking to fight, old man?” she asked. She threw a pink bomb in his face, pink smoke spreading in the air. Sir Pentious coughed through the smoke and waved his hand to clear it away. The woman kicked the eggs away and the cables fell away from her hands, freeing her.

 “Thought you could use some help,” she said.

 Roo didn’t have the chance to reply before the smoke cleared.

 “You again!” Sir Pentious yelled. ‘You really don’t know when to give up, do you?”

 “Giving up’s not in my vocabulary. I must ask, is being a lord of shit in yours?”

“Arugh!” he growled in anger. “Both of you are dead!”

 “I know,” Cherri smirked. “How about we find out if you can die again!”

 “I’m better than you at words and lifestyle. I’m quite the epic dabber!” Sir Pentious exclaimed before his Egg Bois collectively groaned in response.

 “Man, ego inflation much?” Roo shook her head.

 Cherri summoned more bombs in her hands, tossing them at oncoming Egg Bois. Roo and Cherri exchanged smiles and knowing looks. It was time to heat things up.

 Roo jumped and bounced in the air like a kangaroo over toward her minion. A few swipes of her claws snapped the cables in half, freeing her parasite. The creature roared aloud before scurrying on its metal legs in the path of several Egg Bois. The blades and tendrils contacted with the eggs, slicing them, squishing them or biting them.

 “I like my eggs scrambled!” Cherri exclaimed as she beat an egg to death with a nailed filled club in her hands. “Seriously, does Sir Pentious shit you guys out or does he have a chick for that? No matter, I’ll juts poach more of you eggs!”

 “I could do for some fried eggs myself,” Roo grinned as she barreled into more eggs and stomped several into the ground. The good news was that no more eggs were stealing any more metal and useful junk.

 “Ha! I haven’t seen this many dying eggs since that sperm bank got robbed!” Cherri danced around the Egg Bois trying to shoot her. “You really think you can take me with your pea-cock shooters? Get it?”

 “Hey,” Roo called to Cherri. “Thanks for the backup!”

 “Don’t mention it,” she replied. “That Edgelord manic has been invading my territory for a while now. He almost got it as well. But even if he does…I’ll make sure he doesn’t get yours.”

 “You don’t know me,”Roo inquired. “Why stop to help anyway?”

 “I figured, why not? Angel Dust helped me out during the last one. Figured I could pass the time and shit.”

 “What do you do for hobbies?” Roo asked.

 “Blow stuff up, obviously,” Cherri answered. “Plus go shopping with Angel Dust, maybe go for a drink. You?”

 “I work with herbs of all kinds. I sing, play music, murder, feast, you name it.”

 “Sounds pretty rad. I’m Cherri Bomb by the way.”

 “Roo,” Roo smiled.

 The parasite lunged at Sir Pentious, but the snake managed to avoid it, sending it away as it avoided more blasts.

 “Ready to finish this?” Roo asked.

 “You bet!” Cherri responded.

 Cherri Bomb and Roo both charged at Sir Pentious, all three of them (plus the creature) yelling at the top of their lungs.

 Roo and the parasite attacked more Egg Bois at a rapid pace, sending them into a retreat. They scurried over to the last cart before driving it away. Sir Pentious was fuming in anger.

 “Don’t get confident, whores. You may have sent us back, but I still got enough parts to do the job. You won’t be so lucky next time!”

 Sir Pentious took one look at Roo and his eyes glowed and spiraled. Roo was so entranced that she didn’t notice the hiss, snap and strike until it was too late. Yellow fangs sank into her neck and Roo cried out with wide eyes. Cherri gasped in concern, throwing several bombs at Sir Pentious. Sir Pentious laughed again as he fled the scene yelling, “Bye, bye bitches!”

 Roo felt her body go numb. Spots danced before her eyes as dizziness took hold. Cherri Bomb held her in her arms, Roo collapsing to the floor, her body suddenly heavy.

 “Oh Isabella!” Roo smiled deliriously.

 “That’s not my name,” Cherri said, taken aback.

 “Roo!” Cherri called in concern as Roo gasped for breath. Roo weakly smiled at Cherri’s beautiful face. She never imagined that a single large eye could hold so many secrets. She had saved her life…a true angel hidden in disguise. Thank Lucifer Roo had left the door unlocked.

 She saw Cherri’s concerned face for a few more seconds before unconsciousness took her.

    Chapter Three: Down In The Dumps

 Roo groggily opened her eyes and found herself staring at the rocky ceiling of her bedroom. Nothing seemed to be out of place. Nothing save for a tall white skinned cyclops casually catching a pink bomb in one of her hands. There was a concerned look on her face.

 “Would ya mind not blowing up me or my house, mate?” she asked, slowly sitting up.

 Cherri’s look of concern vanished, turning into relief. “Oh thank goodness.”

 “What the fuck happened?” Roo muttered. She almost climbed out of bed.

 “Whoa take it easy,” Cherri said, holding out her hands, the previous bomb vanishing. “The venom may have left your system but I don’t think you’re ready to rush out just yet.”

 “How did you…”

 “Thankfully your door was unlocked. I saw you pointing a shaking finger at it between consciousness.”

 She held up an empty jar and a note scrawled on a piece of paper. The paper had directions for crushing a herb to counteract the effects of venom.  

 Roo blinked in disbelief.

 “Yep, your note saved your ass.”

 Roo smiled, staring at her hands, memories rushing back to her. “Wow that was some fight we had!”

 “I know, wasn’t it awesome?! That Edgelord snake thought he could take us down, but he miscalculated as usual.

 “He still managed to knack some of my stuff,” Roo grumbled.

 “It’s no big deal. More trash will arrive here anyway, right?”

 “Good point.”

 Roo slowly stood up, stretching her arms.

 “You good?” Cherri asked. Roo nodded and followed her out to the living room. Roo noticed that she felt…empty.

 “Have you seen…”

 “Oh, that creature of yours?” Cherri asked. She mentioned off to the left of her.

 A banging and clanging sound filled the small kitchen. The parasite was scurrying along the countertops, knocking several items down in search for food.

 “Yeah, that freaky beast tried to enter inside of you…I think the venom may have discouraged it to go any further. I tried to pull it away…”

 The creature suddenly roared when it spotted them and shot itself at Cherri’s face. Cherri screamed, stepping back and flinching. Roo sunk her clawed fingers into the creature, pulling it back with her hands.

 “Hey! Stop that!”

 The creature shrieked in protest.

 “What the fuck is that thing?!” Cherri exclaimed, terrified at have it so close to her.

 “I don’t actually know myself,” Roo admitted. “But I do know that it can get very tempermental if left outside too long with no food.”

 “Then leave it in here for a while,” she suggested.

 “That’s not what I…enough!”

 Roo’s eyes glowed and she spoke in a low demonic voice. The creature shot up its spikes and curled its head in terror. Roo pulled it away from Cherri.

 “Jeez, that was close,” Cherri mentioned. “Now please put that thing back where it came from!”

 Roo nodded and picked up the creature. Her mouth opened wide and she helped slide the creature inside.

 “No, what the fu…oh god!” Cherri made a face at the disgusting display. She closed her one eye until the creature had vanished down her throat.

 Roo looked apologetic. “Sorry about that.”

 Cherri shook her hands and took a breath. “Well, I’ve seen worse sights in my life, so something like this is nothing.”

 Cherri stood up and walked toward the exit door.

 “Where are you going?” Roo asked.

 “I have to get back and check on my bestie Angel Dust,” Cherri explained.

 “Can I come too?”

 “Well, I’d rather not let anyone else see my territory and do know I can still blow you to bits if you try anything.”

 Roo shrugged, looking unfazed. “Even if I did, I would only have my life to lose.”

 “Fair enough.”

 “How about this? Thanks for saving me back there, Cherri. You’re welcome to come back here anytime. I have herbs, some instruments if you like to play sometime.”

 A small smile appeared on Cherri’s face. “Nah I’m good but thanks for the offer.”

 Cherri was about to walk out the door but stopped and stared at the display of boomerangs in the hall. It seemed to trigger some lost memories.

 “Where did you get these?” she breathed. She glanced down and picked up a long tube shaped instrument.

 “Where else but in Australia?” Roo replied with a grin.

 “You mean that’s where you were from?”

 Roo nodded.

 “Same here.”

 Both their eyes grew wide in surprise.

 “Wait, you’re an Aussie too?” Roo asked in disbelief.

 “It’s true though,” Cherri replied. “I remember my last days being in the good old 80s.”

 “I never would’ve guessed. You have no accent!”

 “Not everything is what it seems at first glance.”

 Roo could sense explosive power brewing in this woman. This confident fiery individual who so happened to be a former human from Australia just like she was. Was it coincidental that she was having these strange feelings? The desire to learn more about her was swaying through her mind like tall grass on a windy day.  

[idearlylovealaugh]

New Rites

This is another short one-shot that I wrote a while ago and meant to post then forgot about? As usual? It's loosely connected to this but can certainly be read on it's own. Also, is it way too early in the day for what is essentially just lemons? Probably! Enjoy!!

Rated: M Words: 1724 Also on ff.net here It was a drained Ron Weasley that Apparated into his apartment on a Friday night, dropped his rucksack heavily, and leaned back against the door with an explosive sigh. Overnight missions had always been rough on him, and he knew from a few probing questions to targeted parties - namely Ginny and Hermione’s office assistant - that Hermione didn’t fare particularly well during his stints away, either. It had become a bit of a routine: he’d tell her about the upcoming mission, she’d take on some new project to stay busy, and then he’d come home, mentally and physically exhausted, to a stressed-out, overworked Hermione. It always took them a few days to recover and get back into the swing of things, and he hated that she didn’t take care of herself while he was gone. Gods, it was wearing him down, all of it.

“Hermione?”

“In here,” came the muffled reply from further into the flat. Ron tossed his cloak on the back of the sofa and made his way to the short corridor that led to their bedroom, rotating his stiff neck as he went. No injuries this weekend, thank Merlin - just the soreness of sleeping a few nights on the hard ground, dreaming longingly of his comfortable bed and the person with whom he shared it.

Their bedroom was dark, but a light was shining under the next door down. He hesitated, wondering if she might not want to be disturbed; but figuring that she had left the door ajar for a reason, he pushed it open to find his wife leaning back against the counter of their bathroom wearing a silky dressing gown tied loosely around her hips and a small, self-satisfied smile.

...Only it wasn’t their tiny, somewhat shabby loo, with it’s chipped tiles and inexplicably pink fixtures - this room was considerably larger and sleeker and somehow strangely reminiscent of something. The generous countertop looked to be polished stone and their cramped, claustrophobic tub and shower had been replaced by an luxurious oversized stall with a glass door. The shock of the change ripped Ron’s eyes away from the deep V of exposed skin on Hermione’s sternum.

“How…?”

Hermione’s smile widened a bit. “Just some advanced transfiguration,” she replied airily. “Well, I had to borrow a little space as well. You know her from next door is in Blackpool for the weekend - she asked me to feed her cat,” she continued, when it looked as though Ron was going to interrupt with a question. “And I can obviously put it to right before she gets back, so she’ll never miss this little bit of kitchen.”

Ron grinned as he leaned against the doorframe, feeling the tension of the last few days start to physically dissipate. “And all that about ‘excessive use of magic in a muggle neighbourhood’...?” he asked teasingly.

She raised an eyebrow and shifted slightly, causing the gap in her dressing gown to plunge nearly to her belly button.  “Are you really going to quibble about that now?”

“Hell, no,” he breathed, quickly covering the space between them and kissing her deeply, threading his fingers through her hair as he gripped the back of her head. His other hand skimmed the silky length of her torso, revelling in the familiarity of her curves as she arched into him. He palmed her arse through the smooth fabric of her dressing gown, hand sliding slower to grip behind her thigh and hoist her off her feet. He deposited her on the gleaming countertop where she was at the perfect level for his hungry mouth. She leaned back on her hands and tipped her head back with a sigh as his lips moved down her neck, her nipples making noticeable peaks under the peach satin.

Slowly Ron pulled her sash loose and pushed open the sides, blowing out a slow breath as her fully nude form was revealed, reclined and open to him. He leaned in to kiss her again, slowly and reverently, as his hands slid down her torso. He followed the path of his fingers with his mouth, tracing and suckling each rounded breast as she moaned her satisfaction. That this woman that he loved so much, wanted so much, could do something like this for him, could instinctively know what he wanted and needed, and even needed herself...

Suddenly overwhelmed with emotion, he paused with his head between her breasts, breathing in her scent. He could feel their connection in the beat of her heart, in the waves of love and desire soaking her skin.

“This is amazing, thank you,” he murmured, pushing back slightly to look into her eyes. “You know the best part of these missions is always coming back to you, no matter the state of the flat.”

“I know,” she whispered. “It’s hard on both of us.” She cradled his face in her hands, scratching her fingertips through his rough stubble. “The last time we were here, I was so overwhelmed and you helped me so much - I wanted to give some of that back to you.”

Finally it clicked, why the room seemed so familiar - as far as he could remember, Hermione had transfigured it to look exactly like the bathroom in the hotel room where they had stayed in Sydney. Well, technically it had been her hotel room, which had become their de facto hotel room while they worked to bring her parents back to England. They had only spent a few nights there, but those moments - early in their relationship, exploring and learning each other - were treasured memories for him.

Overflowing with emotion, he surged forward to kiss her again, glorying in the way she responded to his touch. After a few moments she pushed against his chest gently until he took a step back. She leapt lightly off the counter, letting the dressing gown slide off her shoulders into a shimmery pool at her feet.

“Let’s turn on the water,” she suggested, sending him a flirty smile over her shoulder as she turned to the shower stall and reached for the gleaming knob.

Ron drank in the view of her perfect arse until he could no longer resist pressing himself against her. “Just so you know, this isn’t going to be exactly like Australia,” he growled into her ear, and was rewarded when he heard her breath hitch.

Hermione stepped into the shower and turned, offering her hand to him with lust-darkened eyes. He took her hand and entered the warm spray, gently backing her up until she was leaning against the tiled wall as his hands roamed her water-slick body. Before she could protest he dropped to his knees in front of her, gripping her hips and pulling them to him so that he could bury his face between her legs. He had a feeling that she intended to take care of him tonight, but this… this was what he wanted, what he spent nearly every night away from her thinking about. Her scent, her taste, the way he could feel her body quiver and shudder - all of it made him fairly ache with desire for her.   

She cried out in ecstasy as his tongue worked her over, the water mixing with her flavour as she rocked against him. He coaxed one thigh over his shoulder to give him more access and the chance to look up at her as she writhed and keened. She was gorgeous; the water soaking her massive curls and streaming down her body as she neared her peak. His calloused fingertips pressed into the flesh of her arse as he held her in place, swirling his tongue around her sensitive clit. Slowly, torturously, he slid two long fingers into her wet heat as she practically sobbed with pleasure. He curled his fingers inside her and gently rubbed as he continued to stroke her with his tongue and she broke, the orgasm wracking her body as she pulsed around his fingers.

He supported her weight with his body, gently tracing the skin of her thighs until she was recovered enough to stand on her own. He stood and she launched herself against him, plunging her tongue into his mouth and pinning his rock hard length between their bodies. He broke the kiss with a groan, dipping his head until his lips brushed her ear. “Turn around,” he growled.

Hermione complied with a moan, turning to face the warm spray. Once again Ron gripped her hips and drew them to his own, rubbing himself between the cheeks of her arse as he licked and nipped the skin of her neck. He slid his hands down her arms, gently pulling her wrists forward until she bent at the waist with her palms flat against the shower wall. He ran his hands back along her front, fingertips playing with her hardened nipples as she writhed and moaned.

“S’fucking hot,” he slurred, sliding his cock between her legs to rub against her, not yet entering.

“Ronnnn,” Hermione whimpered as she pushed her hips back against him, seeking the connection they both desperately needed.

When he knew neither of them could stand it any longer he plunged into her, their cries of relief mingling in the steam-thickened air.  He stood tall as he used his hands to guide her hips, muscles tensing at the indescribable sensation of being inside her, of hearing her chant his name as he pumped into her, seeing and feeling every inch of himself disappear into her wanting body.  

His climax was building fast and he could tell by the way she rocked back into him that she was close as well. He reached down between her legs with long fingers to rub her even as he thrust deeper. As soon as she began to wail and shake he let go, her name echoing off the porcelain tile as he roared his release.

Circling his arms around her waist, Ron stumbled backwards until his back hit the wall and slid down, laughing as he carefully collapsed them into a tangle of slippery limbs. In a haze of satisfaction he looked down at her smiling, upturned face, water droplets sparkling in her eyelashes.

“A new tradition?” she asked, beatific.

He pressed a fervent kiss to her forehead, closing his eyes as love and contentment washed over him.

“Definitely.”

[nemesisbinxartifactseries]

Artifact Series S

Saburo Miyakawa's Hachimaki *

Sacagawea's Cradleboard

Sacagawea's Indian Peace Medal

Sacred Papyri of Seleucia *

The Saddle of Bayard

Sadhu Fingernails

Sailor Mars' Transformation Pen

Saint Cuthbert's Chapel Gargoyle *

Saint George's Ring

Saint George's Lance and Shield

Saint James' Fuller's Club

Saint Jude's Carpenter's Rule

Saint Jerome's Lion Claw Thorn

Saint Lucia's Skull

Saint Matthew's Tax Lodger

Saint Matthias' Axe

Saint Nicholas' Gift Bag

Saint Nicholas' Three Stockings

Saint Patrick's Bell

Saint Paul's Cross-Hilted Sword

Saint Paul's Letter

Saint Peter's 2 Keys

Saint Peter's Sword

Saint Philip's Basket

Saint Sebastian’s Arrow

Saint Simon's Saw

Saint Thomas' Carpentry Square

Saint Valentine's Amethyst Ring

Sakyo Komatsu's Typewriter Ink Ribbon

Saleh's Camel Bone

Salem Saberhagen Animatron

Sallah, the Soothsaying Sultan *

Sally Rand's Ostrich Feather Fans

Sally Tompkins' Medical Kit

Salmaan Taseer's Glasses

Salt from Dallol, Ethiopia

Salvador Dali’s Cane

Salvador Dali's Moustache Wax

Salvador Dalí's Paintbrush

Salvation Army Bell

Salvator Fabris' Fencing Doublet

Salzburg Marionette Theater Marionette

Samantha Smith's Cap

Sam Hide's Half Crown

Sam Loyd's Black Queen

Sammy Davis Jr.'s Mezuzah

The Samsara Lotus

Sam Sheppard's Wrestling Boots

Sam Snead’s Golf Bag

Samson's Jawbone *

Samuel Allison's Dark Tinted Goggles

Samuel Clemens' Riverboat Whistle

Samuel Colt's Gun Barrel

Samuel Franklin Cody’s Kite

Samuel J. Seymour’s Safety Pin

Samuel Loring Morison’s Magazine Rack

Samuel Madden's Letter Opener

Samuel Pepys' Monocle

Samuel Pepys' Wheel of Parmesan Cheese

Samuel Taylor Coleridge's Fishing Net *

Samuel Whittemore’s Musket

Samuel Ruben’s Batteries

Samus Aran's Armor

Sancho II of Portugal’s Ciborium

Sandbags from the Great Mississippi Flood of 1927

The Sanderson Sisters' Black Flame Candle

Sandford Fleming's Postage Stamp

Sands of Hiroshima

Sands of Iwo Jima *

Sands of Normandy

Sandstone Bricks from the Pyramid of Giza

Santa Claus™ Hat

Santiago Ramón y Cajal's Microscope

Santorini Event Pumice Stone

Sapphires of Vali

Sarah A. Bowman’s Bread Tray

Sarah Bernhardt's Evening Gloves

Sarah Knauss' Personal Compact Mirror

Sarah Osbourne's Dress

Saraswati’s Veena

Sargon the Great's Mirrors *

Saturn V

Saxon Yule Log *

Sburb Beta Disks

Scaenae Frons from the Theatre of Dionysus

Scallop Shell of Zebedee

Scarab of Imhotep *

The Scarab Beetle Statue of Luxor

Scarecrow's Mask

“Scary” Lucille Ball Statue

Schaefer Beer Tray

Scheherazede's Bracelet

School of Salmon

Schrodinger's Cat

Schwinn Exercise Bike

Scope & Rifle from Elbe Day

Scorpion's Ropedart

Scorpus' Chariot

Scot Halpin’s Tour Jacket

Scott Joplin's Cigarette Case *

Scott Joplin's Piano *

Scott Joplin's Score for A Guest of Honor

Scott O'Grady’s Ejection Seat

SCP-WH13

Scroll of Qi

The Sea Cat

Searchlight from Alcatraz

Seat from Global Airlines Flight 33

Seaweed Stone Ball

Second Chance Heroes Artifacts

Secondo Pia’s Flashbulb

Secretariat's Horseshoes

Sedna's Seashell

Seductive Spectacles

SEES's Evokers

Selene's Tiara

Self-Answering Rotary Phone

Self-Constructing Building Blocks

Self-Replicating Birthday Candles

Senchán Torpéist's Lute

Seneb's False Door

Seraphim of Sarov’s Icon and Lestovka

Serial Killer Camera *

Serial Killer Hook

Sergeant Stubby's Coat

Sergei Brukhonenko's Autojektor

Sergei Korsakoff's Ruble Coin

Sergei Prokofiev's Chess Board

Sergio Corbucci's Personal Script of Django

Sergiusz Piasecki’s Grammar Book

Sessue Hayakawa’s Pierce Arrow

Seth Kinman’s Elkhorn Chair

Seth MacFarlane's "Family Guy" Concept Art

Seti I's Obelisk

Severus of Athens' Cronus Ring

Sexist Pickle Jar

Shah Jahan’s Peacock Throne

Shah Jahan's Taj Mahal Spire

Shaista Khan’s Sash

Shards of the Cross of St. Andrew

Sharicite Pendants

Shaka Zulu's Nkoka

Shaka Zulu's Iklwa

Shamu's Tank

Shang Rang's Army Shield

Shaolin Temple Robes

Sharbat Gula's Shawl

Shard from the Lens of the Lighthouse of Alexandria *

Sharkeisha's Winter Hat

Sharpie Permanent Marker

Sheet Music of Faerie's Aire and Death Waltz

Sheldon Silverstein's Guitar

Sheldon Silverstein's Shaving Razor

Shelvern's Black-Magic-Eyed Peas

Shell Fragment from the V-1 Doodlebug

Shem Drowne's Grasshopper

Shennong’s Plow

Sherman Adams’ Fur Coat

Sher Shah Suri's Helmet

Sheut Statuette

Shield from the Battle of Thermopylae

Shifting Chicken Egg

Shig Murao's Copy of "Howl"

Shigechiyo Izumi's Kimono

Shig Murao's Copy of "Howl"

Shigeru Miyamoto's Keyboard

Shinichi Suzuki's Violin

Shirley Jackson's Jewelry Box

Shiro Ishii's Medal *

Shirt of Nessus

Shivaji’s Bagh Naka

Shizou Kakutani's Geometry Set *

Shoes from the Tank Man

Shoichi Yokoi's Uniform

Shō Shin's Tonfa

Shotaro Ishinomori's Pen and Sketch Pad

Shower Head from "Psycho" *

Shylock's Coin Purse

Siberian Jukebox

Siberian Mammoth Tusk

Sigismund I the Old’s Tankard

Sigismund’s Order of the Dragon Emblem

Sigmund Freud's Cigar *

Sigmund Freud's Glasses

Sigmund Freud's Lighter

Sigmund Freud's Mantle Clock *

Sigmund Freud's Marble Tablet

Sigyn’s Bowl

Silap Inua Totem

Silene stenophylla

Silencing Librarian Glasses

Silk Sash of Mulan

Silver Bracelet *

Silver Bullet

Silver Cross Tavern Barrels

The Silver Crystal

Silver Necklace from the Atacama Desert Mines *

Silverpilen

Silver Transmuting Goblet

Simeon Bourgeois' Torpedo Shell

Simo Häyhä's Rifle

Simon Tookoome's Bullwhip

Simonides of Ceos' Tally Stick

Simon Stevin's Windmill

Sinclair Lewis' Desk

"Singin' in the Rain" Umbrellas

The Singing Bone

Sinon's Helmet

Sir Gawain's Jousting Helmet *

Sir Mix-A-Lot's Bling Ring

Siren Rock Pendent

Sister Parish's Rose Brooch

Sitting Bull's Riding Blanket *

Skanderberg's Helmet

Skeleton Key

Ski Gloves

Skip to My Lou Violin

Skis from the Winter of Terror

Slava Raškaj’s Alabaster Owl Carving

Slavoljub Eduard Penkala’s Hot Water Bottle

The Slayer's Scythe

Sledge Hammer from the Ohio State Prison Fire

Slender Suit

Slot Machine

Slow Mo Guy's Lab Coats

Slue-Foot Sue's Bustle

Smenkhkare's Coffin

Smiling Dog Photograph

Smell Negating Clothespin

Smokey Yunick's Cowboy Hat

Smoking Railroad Spikes *

"Snakeman's" Basket

Snarky Reading Glasses

Sneezing Panda Video Camera

Snowman Jack-in-the-Box

Snow White's Apple

Snow White's Mirror

Sobriety Coin

Soccer Ball from the Death Match

Sock Sowachowski's Hat

Socrates' Cup *

Socrates' Toga

Sodom and Gomorrah Salt Mask *

Sogdianus' Scimitar

Soichiro Honda's Bicycle Pedals

Solac Electric Toaster

Soldier of Fortune's Cloth Cap

Solomon W. Golomb's Polyominoes

Sonman Mine Pickaxe

Sonny and Cher's Old West Costumes

Sopdet's Star

Sophie Blanchard's Costume

Sophie Lyons' Gloves

Soren S. Adams' Jam Jar

Southern Cross Expedition Candle Holder

Souvenir Ashtray *

SpaceShipOne

The Spaghetti Tree

Spanish Flag from the Battle of Rocroi

Spanish Inquisition Costumes

Spartan Armor *

Spartacus' Armor

Sparticus' Retiarius *

Special Order 191 Cigars

Speed-Reading Lamp (canon)

Sphinx's Gear

Sphinx's Nose and Tablet

Spiked Torture Mask (canon)

Spindle from the Duke of Exeter's Daughter Torture Rack (canon)

Spirit of St. Louis' Propeller Spinner

Spine of the Saracen *

Splattering Heinz Ketchup Bottle

Spoon from Al Capone's Soup Kitchen

Spirit of St. Louis' Propeller Spinner

Spirit Tablets from the Boxer Rebellion

Spitball-Producing Straw

Spriggan Wings

Spring-Heeled Jack's Boots

Spyridon Louis’ Fustinella

Srinivasa Ramanujan's Stick

Squee's Teddy Bear, Shmee

SS Andrea Doria

SS Baychimo

SS Indiana's Hand Bell

SS Noronic Whistle

SS Violet, Griffon

Stack of 12 Cans of Campbell’s Soup *

Stacked-Deck Poker Table

Stadium Seats from the 1896 Olympics

Stage Door from CBGB's *

"Stagecoach" Mary Fields S&W .38 "Lemon Squeezer"

Stagelight from the UFO Club

Stairway B Railing

Staff of Set

Stamata Revithi's Document

Stan Rogers's Wedding Ring

Stanislaw Ulam's Calculator

Stanley Green’s Placard

Stanley Kramer's Film Reel

Stanley Thornton Jr.'s Baby Bottle

Stare Promoting Glasses

Star Jelly

Starkad's Norse Pendent

S.T.A.R.S. Samurai Edge Pistol

State vs Bonner Cap Gun

Statue from Trajan’s Column

Statues of Castor and Pollux *

Statue of Euryale

Statue of Heket

Statue of St. Bartholomew

Statues from the Mausoleum of Halicarnassus

Statues of Zeus and Hera

Statuettes of Aphrodte and Eros

Steam Locomotive from the Burma Railway

Steel Girders From Warehouse 12

Stefania Follini’s Guitar

Stephen Decatur's Disguise

Stephen Hawking's Wheelchair

Stephen Hillenburg's Hawaiian Shirt

Stephen Wiltshire's Pen

Steve Bolander's '58 Chevy Impala

Steve Brodie's Dummy

Steve Clemente's Knife Box

Steve Irwin’s Australia Zoo Patch

Steve Jobs' Hardrive

Steve Kordek's Pinball Machine

Steve McQueen's 650cc Triumph TR6 Trophy Motorcycle *

Steven Spielberg's Clapper Board

Stewart Farrar's Besom

Sticky String *

Stingy Jack's Turnip Lantern

"Stinking" Bishop's Kettle

St. Stephen's Church Weather Vane

Stolen Arm of Shiva

Stone-Changing Cheese Knife

Stone from Stonehenge *

Stone from the "Wailing Wall"

Stones from The Dancing Plague of 1518

Stones from the Flims Rockslide

Stone of Destiny

Stone of Truth

Stonewall Inn's Neon Sign

Stonewall Jackson's Piece of Shrapnel

Storage Door Knob

Stormtrooper E-11 Blaster Rifle

Strait of Messina Grindstone

Straightjacket from St. Mary of Bethlehem Asylum

The Straw that Broke the Camel's Back *

Studio 54 Disco Ball *

Stuffed Speckled Chachalaca

St. Valentine's Day Massacre M1 Thompson

Subtle Knife

Sucellus' Hammer

Sugar Ray Robinson's Pillow

Sugar Skull

Sulla's Grass Crown

Summer Camp Inflatable Mattress

Sunbeam Mix Master

Sundiata Keita’s Balafon

Sunny Malone's Chalk Drawing

Sunrise High Sierra Camp Hat

Sun Tzu's Dao Sword

Sun Tzu's "The Art of War"

Superman's Suit

Supermarket Sweep Shopping Carts

Susan Hayward's Silk Dress

Susan Nolen-Hoeksema’s Glasses

Susanoo's Totsuka-no-Tsurugi (Sword of Strength)

Su Song's Armillary Sphere

Suzanne Oldsworth's Silver Thimble *

Svante Arrhenius’ Gloves

Svetlana Pankratova's Shoes

Svyatoslav Nikolayevich Fyodorov's Patient's Glasses

Sweeny Todd's Barber Shop Razor

Swiss Miss-Hap Mug *

The Sword in the Stone

Sword of Damocles

Sybil Leek's Smudge Fan

Sydney Newman's Rotary Phone

Sylvanus Morley's Pith Helmet

Sylvester Graham's Original Graham Crackers

Sylvia Browne's Pearl Earrings

Sylvia Plath's Typewriter *

[bluesman56]

Coral in the murk by Tony Via Flickr: Day 55, Yorkey’s Knob, Australia: As I finally managed to get into the water. The swell and wind had whipped up sediments from the sea floor. Unfortunately sailing half way around the world and the conditions were far from ideal for observing the coral. When I popped my head up again I found I had drifted about fifty meters away from my start point. I had to swim back against the current. No easy task. I managed to stay in the water for about an hour. But trying to stay put was very difficult. In the end I gave up and hopped onto a boat with a glass bottom that circled the coral around the pontoon. I managed the catamaran journey back to Columbus without incident. Unfortunately passengers heading to shore and back weren’t so lucky. We had another day anchored off shore at Yorkey’s Knob.

[huskam-love-blog]

best replica watches

best replica watches  Cartier is a noted jewelry brand with luxurious elegance and technical innovation. It has massive selection of product lines ranging from jewellery, bridal, accessories, leather goods to timepieces. In our leading online shop, we are particularly specialized in selling Swiss replica Cartier watches. There is no denying the fact that Cartier watches are within the dream list of many women. However, they come with astronomical prices which are far beyond the reach of many people. In consideration of this problem, we website provide the final products of Swiss replica Cartier watches, which are much more authentic than that of our competitors, and at a fraction of the cost of originals. Furthermore, we always take attention to details, high-end materials, fine watchmaking and advanced design. The AAA Cartier Replica watches sale at d4l.co are best quality cheap fake watch from China,The high end Cartier replica watches include Ballon Bleu De Cartier, Calibre De Cartier,Cartier La Dona,Cartier Love Watch,Cartier Pasha,Cartier Roadster,Cartier Santos,Cartier Tank replica watches,We can shipp to Uk,USA,canada,australia,and almost all country worldwide, CARTIER WATCHES replica cartier watches  Switzerland's Compagnie Financiere Richemont SA certainly is the parent organization of Cartier Replica SA, the Finnish wrist watch and expensive jewelry vendor. Even though the Cartier's family influence over Cartier ended in '64, it is always known as the watchmaking company to royal families. Cartier is the world's top pick of luxury fine jewelry and second biggest supplier of high-class watches. Cartier SA possesses its own head offices in Paris, France. Formed in 1847 by Louis-Francois Cartier, Louis-Francois' son Alfred took over the executive side of the business in 1874. Alfred's daughters Louis, Pierre, and Jacques are acknowledged with making Cartier a worldwide brand. Cartier's renowned "Santos" style came about in 1904 at the behest of Brazilian aviator Alberto Santos-Dumont, who determined pocket watches impracticable to be used while piloting. The Santos was the original expensive wristwatch. It was a flat wrist watch which has a square bezel. This everlasting design became a quick hit with Cartier's consumers. The Santos line is still manufactured today, presently inside the Santos 100 design and style, which has movement which really can be seen through the dial. Only 1 hundred of them are going to be produced, made of palladium with a dark natural leather watch wrist band. Other well known versions, the Tortue and Baignore, were unveiled in 1912, and the wildly popular Tank was introduced in 1917. It was inspired by the new war machines often known as tanks on the Western Front, and is still built at present. Believe it or not, there are more than Twenty nine kinds of the Cartier Tank timepiece currently made. Men and women presently tend to be more style-conscious than before, yet only the rich have enough money for real Cartier watches.

Fake Cartier watches come in all the prominent Cartier styles: Tortue, Tank, Santos, Ballon, and Baignore to mention a few. These come in a wonderful number of gorgeous gents and womens designs. Our fake Swiss Cartier watches are exact forgeries of the genuine ones, down to the detailing that includes coloured knobs, diamonds encrusting, and stainless-steel cases. These specific replications . are great for showing your love for quality whether at the workplace or perhaps in a social setting. Cartier tends to make japanese replica watches appropriate for both. The specialist female or male can easily stand out quietly with the great looks of one of the high grade Cartier replica wristwatches and not break the bank or enter into personal debt to buy it. As just one particular fine sample, the Cartier Tank Francaise Swiss Watch for Ladies features Swiss Quartz movement along with a 440 solid steel case. The dial is cream coated with Roman numbers, outlined by high-quality Swiss gemstones. It has a date indicator, along with the solid stainless steel bracelet features Swiss expensive diamonds too. It has a sapphire crystal glass and hour numbers and hands like the originals, right down to the engravings and markings, the weight, and size. For males, the timeless Santos design comes in the Men's Cartier Santos 100 Rubber Fake watch with authentic Swiss automatic movement. The white-colored face features Roman numeral hour engravings. The strap is genuine rubber and has Cartier engravings and markings on the buckle exactly like the authentic Cartier watch. It has a genuine sapphire crystal, weight and dimensions exactly like the genuine Cartier Santos 100. It is one of many fine choices for the male who desires a strikingly handsome wrist watch without paying thousands of dollars.

[octopusdoors-blog]

A requirement of Installing a Front Door Correctly

Frоnt door іѕ thе face оf уоur home аnd thе wау tо enter аnd exit thе house. Installation оf frоnt door іѕ a vеrу essential раrt оf making a house. Frоnt door іѕ thе reflection оf thе owner; іt shows thе taste оf thе resident. Sо уоu need tо focus оn certain things bеfоrе installing a frоnt door.

Material: 

It іѕ vеrу important tо ѕее thаt whаt material іѕ used іn a door. An ideal frоnt door ѕhоuld bе tough аnd strong. Wooden doors gіvе a beautiful аnd traditional look tо thе house; vinyl аnd fiberglass аrе bесоmіng vеrу popular bесаuѕе thеѕе materials аrе insulator аnd cheaper thаn wood аnd metal.

Design: 

Choose thе design оr style оf thе main entrance thаt goes wіth уоur building structure. Yоu саn choose according to tо thе оut look оf thе house. Thrее designs whісh аrе vеrу popular аrе French double door, large wooden аnd stained glass doors. Yоu саn choose аnу good material оf уоur need аnd choice.

Security Device: 

It іѕ vеrу important tо gеt security device fоr уоur frоnt entrance; іt keeps уоur house, safe frоm invaders. Sо makes sure tо hаvе a good security device іt саn bе lockjaw security device, door stop alarm, аnd door knob alarm оr entry defense ѕуѕtеm.

Attachments Fоr Thе Main Entrance:

thе attachment fоr thе main entrance ѕhоuld bе оf good quality ѕо уоu wіll nоt hаvе problem іn using thаt like door lock, latch, hinges аnd pins. 

Door Frame: 

thіѕ point ѕhоuld nоt bе ignored thаt іf thе frоnt door frame іѕ nоt placed correctly thе door саn nеvеr bе installed properly. Tаkе accurate measurements оf thе frame аnd thе door bеfоrе installing.

Cаll Bell: 

A doorbell іѕ nо doubt аn essential thіng, but іt ѕhоuld bе melodious.

Tools Box: 

Of course, wіthоut having a complete toolbox уоu саn nоt install a door. Thе toolbox includes mаnу tools like hammer, measuring tape, circular saw, sandpaper, utility knife аnd mаnу mоrе things.

Nоw аftеr checking thеѕе essential points like material, quality, design аnd mаnу оthеr things уоu саn install уоur frоnt door.

Contact Info:

Octopus Doors

Address: 2 Latham Rd, Ferndale WA 6148, Australia

Phone: 1800 491 492

Email: octopus.doors1@gmail.com

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