#olive the ferret

[rachi-roo]

Olive bleps at u

[the-book-ferret]

In this simple, touching picture book about the healing power of a loving community, a girl's grandpa and her neighbors help her grow an olive tree in a war-torn land. Salem's grandpa says that olive trees are strong and that their roots run deep in their Palestinian land. They connect everyone--from the farmer who presses the olives into oil to the baker who uses the oil in his taboon. Salem plants her own seed and is eager to see it grow. She waits... she waters... she asks the seed to hurry... until finally...a sprout! But one day soldiers come and destroy everything in their path...including Salem's new olive tree. Salem is crushed--though she doesn't have to worry. Her grandpa gathers their neighbors and, together, they plant olive trees as far as the eye can see. With spare, sensitive prose and gentle illustrations, debut author-illustrator Hazar Elbayya delivers a powerful story about the beauty of the olive tree and the importance of community in the face of hardship.

[hp-hcs]

(Fine, I’ll do it my damn self: part 3 of my silly lil mlm stories <3)

Slytherin Twin — draco malfoy x male! slytherin! weasley! reader x harry potter

tws: umbridge’s blood quill, maybe like a pinch of homophobia?

i need more representation of slytherins who enjoy care of magical creatures goddamnit

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Ronald Weasley.”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

“Y/N Weasley.”

Oh, no. Minerva McGonagall does not get paid enough to deal with another set of Weasley twins.

“SLYTHERIN!”

Maybe I should retire, Minerva thinks faintly.

You don’t seem to mind at all that the Great Hall is dead silent as you skip towards the Slytherin table, your brothers watching in a mix of shock, fascination, resignation, and abject horror.

You plop down right next to Draco Malfoy, grinning widely at him before waving cheerily towards some of the older students who are struggling to hold back their unabashed glee.

“A Weasley in Slytherin? I thought your entire family was made up of idioticly naïve fools,” Malfoy sneers sharply, a look of contempt rising on his smug face.

“Draco Malfoy in Slytherin? How much did your family have to pay to ensure you got in?” you reply with a sweet smile on your face. The older students stare in awe at the Weasley who just left a Malfoy speechless.

Much to their surprise, however, Draco’s face broke out into a grin. “So you do belong here. Very well then, Weasley. Lovely to make your acquaintance.”

“Likewise, Malfoy.”

~~~

“‘The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir beware.’ What does that even mean?”

“D’you still think it’s about Potter?” you ask around a mouthful of toast. “Cause I think you might’ve been wrong ‘bout him, Dray.”

“Potter is a spoiled prat, Y/N. Just because he’s the Chosen One, he thinks he’s so special-”

“My brothers broke him out of his uncle’s house over the summer. They’d put bars on his window and starved him.”

Draco stops his tirade about Potter, looking positively bewildered. “What?”

~~~

As you were leaving the library, you bumped into Hermione Granger, your brother’s girlfriend friend.

“Sorry,” you mutter, continuing on your way. You don’t look back, so you never see the dawning look of realization once Granger unfolds the torn-out page you’d shoved into her hand.

~~~

Harry Potter opens the Gryffindor portrait at your hesitant knocking. “Oh- Y/N, right? Ron’s brother?”

You nod uncertainly. “Yeah, um… I just wanted to say that I’m real sorry about Buckbeak. Malfoy’s a git, you know.”

Harry nods slowly. “Yeah. Isn’t he like, your best friend though?”

“Like you’ve never thought of Ronnie as a git too, Potter.”

He grins and holds the portrait open for you. “Here- welcome to the common room, I guess.”

You look around, unimpressed. “My eyes are bleeding.”

Smoothing out your Slytherin sweater, you continue, “Like, this is almost as bad as Ron’s Chudley Cannons shrine-bedroom.”

A unfamiliar scowling face looks up from the couch, glaring daggers at you. “Oi, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be fawning over your Slytherin prince?”

“Hey, leave him alone, Finnegan!” Ron snaps, appearing at the bottom of the stairwell to his dorm. “I swear to Merlin, you are such a prat.”

Ignoring your brother, you raise your hands up in mock surrender, smiling patronizingly at Seamus. “Hey, no hard feelings, leprechaun. I’m just here to apologize on Dray’s behalf.”

“On Dray’s behalf,” Cormac McLaggen mocks in a high-pitched voice. “Oh, Dray!”

A few girls next to him titter with laughter.

“Malfoy your boyfriend or something, Weasley?” McLaggen spits your name like it were a curse.

“Oh, indeed,” you deadpan. “You’re invited to the wedding. Won’t you be my best man, please?”

“If you’re just here to make fun of us, maybe you ought’a leave,” Seamus butts in again.

“Whatever. Anyways, Potter, I found a couple of books in the library about the Ministry’s statutes, and I bookmarked a few pages about the fascinating Release of Liability contracts that Hogwarts students’ guardians have to sign at the beginning of every school year,” you look down at your nails, feigning disinterest. “But if you’re not interested, then I’ll be off. Wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome.”

~~~

“Y/N, here,” Pansy Parkinson said with a look of poorly-contained glee, gently setting a pure white ferret into your hands. “It’s Draco’s, and you’re in charge of ferret-sitting for the foreseeable future. Have fun!”

Blaise just slowly shakes his head and mouths I’m so sorry in your direction as Pansy drags him off, laughing mirthfully. You blink, glancing down at the tiny animal who is currently glaring at you. Draco’s indeed, you think to yourself.

“Heya, little guy. It’s snowing pretty hard outside, are you fine riding in my pocket until I get to my next class?”

You hold open the deep pocket of your robe with your free hand, the ferret immediately leaping inside. You waited as it got settled, its tiny paws and head peeking out.

Satisfied, you start your walk across the school grounds, taking a much longer path than usual to avoid your older brothers, who had been giggling to each other far too much this morning for your comfort.

You chatter to the little rodent in your pocket, about everything from the Divination test you failed this morning to the fantastic cherry tart your mother makes every Yule. Before long, you arrive and climb up the stone steps, knocking on the heavy wood door and tucking your hands into your armpits to keep warm.

The door opens, revealing the half-giant groundskeeper who smiles happily at you.

“Y/N! I jus’ put on a kettle of tea, now. Glad y’made it, lad.”

As he ushers you into the warm, inviting hut, the ferret in your pocket squeaks at the sight of the large dog asleep by the fire.

You giggle, pulling the ferret out and setting it on the arm of your chair, gladly taking the warm teacup offered to you. “Mr. Hagrid, sir. My friend Pansy just kind of gave me this little guy out of nowhere and told me I was on indefinite ferret-sitting duty.”

Hagrid sits forward in his chair, setting down his delicate china teacup that looks rather out of place in his large hand, and squints at the ferret.

“Tha’s transfigured, that is,” Hagrid grunts. “Not a ferret.”

“I figured,” you shrug. “Ten galleons says it’s Malfoy.”

The ferret squeaks indignantly.

Hagrid chuckles. “If it is y’, Malfoy, I right like you better like this.”

You reach out to scratch the top of Malfoy (Ferret?) Blondie’s head. “So can you turn him back, Mr. Hagrid?”

“‘Fraid not, with no wand,” he taps his fingers on his teacup, making a steady clink clink clink sound. “Ah! But our mutual friend should be dropping by shortly, yeah?”

His sentence is punctuated by the well-timed FWOOSH of a flooed-in visitor.

“Heya, Harry! Draco’s a ferret now.”

“He wasn’t already?”

~~~

“My father will hear about this!”

“I’m sure he will, Dray, I’m sure he will,” you deadpan, wincing at the sting of Murtlap Essence on the back of your hand.

He mumbles a quiet apology, already rewrapping Harry’s hand in fresh bandages.

If you had told any Hogwarts student five years ago that one day, Harry Potter and Y/N Weasley would be sitting on the dusty floor of Filch’s dingy custodial closet, having their self-inflicted ‘detentions’ healed and wrapped by Draco Malfoy, they would’ve laughed in your face.

Despite that, the perplexing triad found solace in each others’ presence. No words left needing to be said.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on. — Mary Oliver, “Wild Geese”

[mcyt-but-everywhere]

[lets-be-weird-togetherr]

The life of the loves of my life lately & always - sleep.

[janas0311]

Look at this máster piece made on scool

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Do you like it

Please be popular please be popular

[giggledome]

an avenue and an oliver doodle

[rawrampmag]

UGLY GUYS Still Rollin'

THE UGLY GUYS Still Rollin' #TheUglyGuys #ConquestMusic #RollingInTheDeep

The Southend-based country-rock quintet & weatherbeaten peddlers of British Appalachian style Americana, THE UGLY GUYS have released a new three track EP titled ‘Rolling in the Deep’ on the Conquest Music label. The EP’s impressive title track, a masterful country-tinged rendition of Adele’s celebrated 2011 international chart-topper, has been given a video release from The Ugly Guys. Listening…

[i-drew-a-ferret]

Inside of you there are two spheres. You have infinite sides

[what-if-i-dee-eye-do]

god triggers are so weird. most triggers are easily recognizable (loud sudden noises yelling screaming objects flying at your face) but most of them are so personal to your individual experience it gets kind of absurd to a layman with no knowledge of how trauma works. A euphoric trigger for most people could become a source of instant grief or fear. 'Why are you crying over a video of a ferret' I don't know. I don't know. I don't know.

[fir-fireweed]

VIATICA

A new interactive fiction available free to read on itch.io and written in Twine.

Set in a dystopian, post-apocalyptic future, with a focus on personal growth, as well as platonic, familial, and romantic bonds.

Your world is a desert, both figuratively and literally. Speech is prohibited, books are outlawed, and any meaningful human interaction is nonexistent. Humans are reduced to the job they do for The City. There are no names; instead, everyone is identified by a number.

You are H-313, a healer.

Create and customize your character: male, female, or non-binary; gay, straight, or bisexual. Become an individual in a world of drones. Learn to speak, express your emotions, define your personality. Dream big, resist tyranny, inspire the masses, and forge a new world. Or not. This is your journey, after all.

There are no point-based choices or outcomes. No choice is wrong—it simply changes the type of person you grow to become.

ROs:

B-485, Lion (he/him)

He is a builder, stoic and strong. He is tall and muscular with brown skin and black, coiled hair and beard. At 26 he is the eldest of the group. Later in the story, he chooses the name Lion for himself. He is fierce and protective of those he cares for. But what truly sets him apart from other workers is his ability to speak clearly and articulately. How? More to the point, can he teach you?

F-525, Heron (he/him)

He is a feeder, aloof and placid. He is medium height, with long blonde hair usually tied back in a ponytail and pale blue eyes. He is 22 years old, same as you. Later in the story, he chooses the name Heron for himself. He does not question his role, nor act in any way contrary to what is expected. What passions and tempers will you find when that veneer cracks? More importantly, why does he seem so familiar?

S-622, Ferret (she/her)

She is a sweeper, slender and scrappy. She is medium height, with olive skin, dark brown hair and narrow grey eyes. She is 21 years old. Later in the story, she chooses the name Ferret for herself. She is impulsive, stubborn, and quick to anger. When you first meet her she is very combative, but you eventually see the fearless and inquisitive soul underneath. Could she be a kindred spirit, or perhaps even more?

R-793, Robin (they/them)

They are a burner, lithe and wary. They have ivory skin, curly red hair, and heterochromia: one eye is green, the other brown. They are 20 years old. Later in the story, they choose the name Robin for themself. In a world where roles are based on gender and strict definitions of what a worker is, they have always felt out of place. Their discomfort was made worse by a recent traumatic experience. Can you help them to accept and appreciate the worthy person that they are?

Content Warning: This story is intended for mature audiences. Possibly triggering topics present in the story include blood, violence, death, suicide, rape (mentioned), child abuse, mature language, and sexual content (optional).

[rachi-roo]

My two brain cells fighting for the wheel acted out by Molly and Olive~ 🥰

[the-book-ferret]

"We are still here On this dry land where we've always been, On which we have now drawn IMAGINARY LINES so we know who we are and who we are not US : THEM Where we Belong : And where we do not"

[naomullen]

Quanto sono carini 😭😭🐤🐤

Ollie + Schneider ☆

[furrys-degree]

The Introduction!

[clairebearsparkles]

Spiritfarer x The Magnus Archives

Oliver Banks as the Spiritfarer made the most sense to me since he’s the End Avatar we know and love, so it makes sense he’d be the one to do this job. Plus he has a history with boats, it kinda works out.

Michael as a ferret at first didn’t have a love of thought behind it, but I realized that is sorta the point. He was an extremely not special guy, he was just a normal man, just a ferret. His lack of importance to the greater need of Gertrude was his tragedy, he was dispensable.

Jane as a pile of worms is due to her actual connection to the worms, but it’s even more than that. When I was figuring out whether or not I actually wanted to add her to I had to ask did she die with the wasp next or did she die in the archives, and that is the point of her spirit. She is this mess of worms trying to recreate a version of herself from before the wasp nest, someone who simply does not exist anymore.

Agnes is a peacock styled as a phoenix, to show how she was mythicized by everyone who met and knew her, but she was still always just a person, just an average bird with the weight of her prophecy on her shoulders.