#production red hens

[track2hack]

18.08.2024

I’m in me mum’s car

Vroom vroom 🚗

[hooksbackyardpoultry10]

[inklingofadream]

Ssjfzjfzjgxigzifsurs i just realized the vibe of fan writers/artists languishing for comments/rbs while people only pop up to say they reallyyyyyyyyy want more art/fic (but don't say anything else) when you've been dormant a few weeks

And it is the little red hen

[queenpiranhadon]

what are your thoughts on katsuki's reaction when he finds out his partner has the same spice tolerance as him...

A/N: Oh, anon don't worry I have MORE than just thoughts... I actually love this prompt so I'm gonna write it a little differently than usual :) Here's the masterlist!

Warning(s): Cursing, reader likes spicy food, second or third year-ish, fluff, pre-established relationship, standard partner nicknames are used - dummy, babe, baby, etc, reader is gn but is written with f!reader in mind, double dates but it's just silly goofy

Pairing(s): Bakugou Katsuki x Reader, Mina Ashido x Ejiro Kirishima

•─────•°•❀•°•──── ᴡᴀꜱᴀʙɪ ─────•°•☁︎•°•────•

So from your wording, Bakugou finds out about your spice preferences at some point during your relationship, instead of before, which I don't think is as plausible because of his insane perception skills (he probably knows more about you than even you do before you guys even start dating- my man is a closeted nerd and you can't convince me otherwise). But if he did find out while you two were dating, the outcome would be hilarious.

Let's say you're in the UA dorms, whether you're in the hero course on not, you're just chilling in the kitchen waiting for your boyfriend to meet you downstairs. Class 1-A loves you a ton, and even though they tease you and Bakugou a lot, you both end up having a lot of Netflix and chill dates in the common room since the TV there has a shit ton of streaming services.

You put down your phone, sighing, and decide to be a little more productive instead- making your way to the common room to pick out a movie. It was tradition, between you, Katsuki, Kirishima and Mina to watch movies together every now and then as a double date- something Katsuki was adverse to but you knew he secretly enjoyed the chaos that ensued whenever the four of you were together- also realizing that if they weren't in his line of sight, they'd probably end up blowing up the dorms by accident anyways. He'd only said this once though, face turning bright red as you teasingly called him a mother hen.

Mina and Kirishima had started dating a few months ago (you and Katsuki had celebrated your 1 year anniversary two weeks prior to it ) and being the friend group you were, who could pass up an opportunity?. Kirishima and Katsuki very best friends, as were you and Mina, so it was a no-brainer that the four of you would have regular get togethers like this in the first place. You thought it was nice, seeing Katsuki interact with his friends as he relaxed, even if only a little, around his close friends.

You settle yourself down in the plush couch across from the TV screen, and feel the cushions dip as a new weight is added, seeing Mina Ashido plopping down next to you.

"Movie night!" she cheers, and she nudges you with her shoulder. "Some day we gotta ditch the boys and get through a movie marathon together- I swear Eji has the worst taste in movies, if I have to watch another Star Wa-"

"Hey! My taste isn't that bad!" Kirishima whines, coming up behind the both of you with Katsuki in tow. "Plus you keep asking to watch those K-dramas that get your mascara running."

Mina raises an eyebrow. "Eji, you cry more than I do during those."

Katsuki sighs and raises his hand in an attempt for peace. "Oi, shut yer mouths and go grab the pillows and blankets. Y/N and I will order food and pick out the movie."

Mina groans but relents, looking at you pleadingly. "Please chose a good movie - no ‘to be continued’s PLEASE"."

You snort, remembering how one time Kirishima had chosen Captain America: The Winter Soldier, which prompted the four of you to binge the entire MCU on a day without classes.

Scrolling through movies, you decide to choose a classic- the Matrix, something action packed enough to keep Kirishima (and Katsuki's) attention, and something with enough romance to keep Mina hooked.

As you navigate through the countless streaming services, Katsuki's voice pops up behind you.

"Oi, babe what do ya want to eat? Got some rolls dipped in wasabi for myself...I already know Shitty Hair's gonna ask for some chicken wings- an I got some tacos for Pinky cause I know she was whinin about cravin Mexican food earlier..."" He trails off, embarrassed when you grin knowingly in his direction.

You decide to be merciful though, shrugging and returning back to the TV. "I know very well that you're going to order from three different places just so all of us get what we want so I'll just share with you." you smile, and Bakugou's heart thumps softly from your thoughtfulness.

"Tch- whatever dummy. What do ya want in them- I know my rolls are pretty fuckin spicy - avocado, shrimp, cr-" He asks, but you cut his off with a bewildered look.

"What? Why wouldn't I get it with wasabi??" You ask dumbfounded. "That's like 85% of the flavor - plus it's kinda boring without it." you say, and your boyfriend's jaw drops open- as if you'd told him you were pregnant of something.

"Marry me."

You want to burst out in giggles, but stop when you see the deadass look on his face.

"Kats-"

"Jesus Christ baby, of all the shit ya hide from me, ya hide the most important one?!" He asks incredulously and that's when you start laughing.

"If ya told me this shit sooner I would've asked yer ass out the moment I met ya."

[windvexer]

On magic as being a chore, and why I think that's fine and probably a helpful way to frame it for a lot of people who want to do practical sorcery

On the topic of wards, have you ever had to dig a drainage ditch so water won't accumulate around your house?

Or, put one of those little gates in a doorway so a new puppy can only stay in one area? Or, have you ever put out ant bait?

Hung up a "no solicitors" sign? Built a fence so the chickens can stay over there, and out of the garden? Built a shade cloth over the garden?

Because when you're building a shade cloth over the garden, you're casting a ward against the sun, right. You're binding the puppy and the chickens so they are constrained to certain areas. You're crafting a spirit trap to redirect the water so it won't harm your foundations. Casting a hex most vile upon the ants.

Etc.

But I really do think that in some conversations, wards and protections get framed in a weird Bonnie and Clyde way, where they're assumed to be only for witches living in the Wild West, having witch wars and doing Risky Magic.

I do enjoy the sinister mysticism that can sometimes surround witchcraft. But sorcerous strategy is a big interest of mine, and I think that a very useful way to arrive at useful strategy is to de-mystify the whole operation.

It's just that we've got these weird labels, like hex, bind, banish, ward, protect, conjure; but when you get down to it, you can just be doing the most mundane stuff with your magic.

I can use a shade cloth to ward the garden against the sun. Then, I can string garlic on a red thread to ward against illness.

I can put up a fence to keep the chickens on that side of the back yard, then hang up a magical no solicitors sign because I'm tired of getting knocks at my door.

This is what gets my goat, sometimes, about people saying magic has to feel all wonderful and beautiful and everything. Yes, I love the experience of being productive with a hammer on an early spring morning, but building a fence is tedious. When it comes down to it, it's still just building a fence. Even if I build it with wax and bits of paper instead of wood and nails.

I feel like there is so much magical housekeeping people could be doing, or would greatly benefit from, that people just don't do because it's wrapped up in these sinister-adjacent terms.

I don't think magic is actually hex/bind/banish/ward/protect/conjure. I really do think magic is a lot more like hammer and nails. Needle and thread. Oven and dough. Etc.

Is it a fast cash spell, or are you just going out to search for the eggs your prosperity hens have already laid?

You can have it either way you like; you can frame going out to get physical eggs from mundane hens as a rapid-manifest prosperity spell. Behold, after I cast a spell of going outside for two minutes, I have manifested five eggs, better than any store could provide.

But taking all the mystical stuff and letting it just be mending holes and baking bread and digging drainage ditches I think is helpful.

All in all, I think demystifying the language we couch practical sorcery in can have two helpful results, which are:

It's easier to let yourself do things you want to do, because while it's normal to say "There's no good reason for me to cast protections because there's no reason to think anything will come after me," it's also normal to say, "you know what would be a good investment for this property? A nice privacy fence, it would make entertaining feel more cozy and then we could start fostering puppies."

It's easier to compel yourself to do the things you need to do, because it stops being, "I really want to cast a prosperity spell but I just haven't been in a magical mood," and starts being, "it is my job to water the plants and if I don't they will wither and die. So I'll make myself a nice tea to bolster my resolve and get to it before work."

[just-some-random-blogger]

Bound By Blood

Being on your period was already a pain as it is, but accidentally binding yourself to a demon with a menstrual pad was a real cherry on top.

demon!Daemon Targaryen x Reader x bf!Aemond Targaryen | 2k+| cw: fem!reader, modern au, menstruation and its symptoms (duh), bloody depictions, crack fic, dumbass shenanigans, internet translated high Valyrian, typos, etc.

A/N: after reading @happilyhertale's period fic and @lady-phasma's period fic, i remembered a tumblr post i saw a long time ago about how napkins have really pretty designs for no reason cuz ur gonna get blood all over it anyway. as tumblr posts do, it spiraled and someone likened the designs to like a pentagram then someone was like u could accidentally summon a demon, thus this. i really did try to find it but alas i could not

Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @delicious-xx @deniixlovezelda @ceoofyearning

@targaryenmoony @risefallrise @thebullship @sa3losa @pendragora @sloanexx

If you've ever had a hard time with your period, please consider donating €5 to Nour's GoFundMe, as the people in Palestine do not have access to any sort of feminine hygiene products; help her and her family evacuate.

"Lovie?"

"Yeah?"

I put my phone on loud speaker and place it on the side of the sink, "did I tell you to buy macadamia chocolates?"

"... no. I'll get you some."

"And something salty," I sit on the toilet and open my pad packet. I peel the red wrapper off.

"Mmm... crisps?"

"Yeah, the pink one."

"Alright. Anything else, love?"

I change the napkin on my underwear before replying, "mmm... oh! Please read the packaging. I want pads with wings, Aemond, with wings."

"Right. Copy, copy. With wings."

I pull my shorts up and flush the toilet, "thank you, love."

"Mmm. Love you. Bye."

"Bye, love. I love you."

The call ends and I wrap my used napkin in the wrapper of my new pad, rolling it up, and throwing it out. I grab my phone and walk back to my bed.

I huff and get under the sheets, petting the black cat asleep on top of it. Vhagar wags her tail once and I grab my laptop, continuing my binge session.

I wince when I feel a dull pain in my uterus. I pause my show and lean into my pillow, riding out the discomfort.

I moan and begin to heave. My eye twitches at the stabbing sensation. I slowly get out of bed, annoyed by the gush of blood I feel when I move. I make my way to my kitchen and grip on the counter as I prepare a kettle for some tea.

"Stop hating me cause I'm not pregnant," I hiss at my uterus as the pain continues.

I push my weight onto the counter top as I reach for a mug and a tea bag. I huff and screw my eyes. Once the pain subsides enough, I grab my kettle and turn, putting it on the stove. Once the fire is lit, I turn back to grab my mug and place the tea bag in my mug.

Suddenly, the room is thick, the atmosphere is heavy, and there is an inexplicable feeling of dread in my stomach. I feel my body warm and the hairs at the back of my neck raise, and it was not because of my period.

"Iksis ziry iā rūs jaelā?" Is it a baby you want?

I gasp and snap back, pulling my mug to my chest. My eyes widen and my heart leaps into my throat as I behold a towering figure covered in blood. Its body is barely contained in the room; its long neck coils downward to peer at me and its wings are cramped together behind itself. It's as though all the blood in my body drains.

The dragon-like creature chuckles deeply, his golden eyes sparkle, "gaoman jorrāelagon se yknagon hen zūgagon," I do love the smell of fear. It reaches out and delicately scratches its talons on my neck, "but I would not frighten you to death before completing our pact, devoted."

My body is frozen cold in fear as he pulls away. Slowly, its body morphs into a man. The reptilian features and glistening scales where replaced by long, silver hair and plump, smirking lips, all still drenched in blood. His expression mischievous and expectant.

"Ask of me, and see the beauty in thine blood offering to Daemon, The Rogue Prince."

Through barely a breath, in the most strained of voices, I mutter, "w h a t ?"

A rich chuckle bubbles out of his curved lips, "oh, I do loathe the coy and simple-minded. If you wish to amuse me, flatter me. Do not play dumb."

I slowly try to maneuver away from him, "I-" I whisper under sharp breaths, "I don't know what you mean-"

In a rush of either confidence or lunacy, I sprint away from him and run back into the bedroom. I scream and halt in my spot when I collide with the same being's chest.

I feel blood stick to me as I recoil and drop to the floor at the impact. The creature looks down on me and lifts his chin, "what's that then?"

Daemon points to the floor, causing me to look and see nothing but the panels.

Just then, Vhagar awakes and begins to go feral. She hisses loudly at the man, and I scramble to my feet, trying to get to her and calm her down, fearing he blood bathed being would kill her.

Remarkably, it seems I should actually do the opposite as the demon is deterred by Vhagar. He steps back and lowers his gaze. He chuckles dryly as I jump on the bed, going behind Vhagar.

"What is this trickery?"

"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!"

He scoffs and I swear his eyes are set ablaze, "I am bound by my sigil, woman, and I smell the blood on it."

My face morphs into bewilderment, "I DID NOT MAKE A BLOOD SACRIFICE-"

"Where is your summoning circle then!" he demands.

Vhagar hisses at his tone, her fur prickling as Daemon steps forward. He stills and draws in a deep breath. I swear his eyes go red for a second.

He points again, this time at me, "your legs."

My eyes widen preternaturally.

"My blood altar is between your thighs."

Meanwhile, Aemond was on the bus when he received a call.

He picks it up, "hel-"

"THERE'S A-" he pulls his phone away from his ear, "-DEMON IN OUR HOME! AEMOND-"

Aemond knits his brows tightly in concern at the sound of sobbing. He pulls his groceries closer to his chest, "honey, what do me--"

"THERE'S A DEMON IN OUR- VHAGAR NO--"

Aemond's heart drops at the sound of the commotion from the other end of the call. He hears cat yowling and objects crashing. He stiffens and speaks as calmly as possible, "I'm coming home. I'm almost there. Can you hear me, I-" the call ends.

By the time he gets home, his defenses are up. The ruckus from the inside is audible from outside the apartment. He holds his groceries in one hand and opens the door, warily entering. He grabs the long purple umbrella by the rack and closes the door soundlessly. He stalks inside, clenching his jaw at the sudden silence.

He surveys the place and sees the mess, yet no soul was present. He places the groceries on the kitchen top and creeps into the bedroom.

The door was already open, but, still, there was no one.

He freezes when Vhagar hisses. He lifts his gaze upon the black, senior cat sat at the top of the closet, looking into space with her fur raised.

"Aemond?!"

Aemond lowers his gaze.

"NO, DON'T HURT HIM!" I scream from inside the closet.

Aemond grips the umbrella and looks around the room. Vhagar hisses again.

He looks at his cat then the closet door.

"AEMOND- NO-- I'M PULLING YOU IN-"

Without another word, I leap out of the closet and grab Aemond, yanking him inside. I immediately shut the doors and begin to hyperventilate.

"What's happening? What's going on?" he asks, clutching my cheeks.

I whine and grip his wrists in distress. I whisper, "Vhagar's keeping us safe."

Aemond's nostrils flare, "what's happening? What's wrong?"

I shake my head and shudder, "there's a demon--"

"You know I can hear you right?"

I squeal, making Aemond tense and tighten his grip on me. I hear Vhagar hiss from above the closet.

Without much thought, Aemond pushes the doors open and holds his umbrella like a weapon.

I scream and pull him back when I hear sinister laughtera, "AEMOND, NO!"

Aemond claims an offensive stance, ready to bat his umbrella at whomever was in front of him, and yet there was no one. My breath hitches as I anticipate Daemon to jump us both, but he doesn't.

With furrowed brows, the man looks over to me, "baby, there's no o-"

Aemond yelps as I rush out of the closet and drag him out of the bedroom with me. We make our way to the kitchen, and I immediately rummage through the groceries, grabbing the pack of pads.

"Honey, what was it exactly that you-" Aemond cuts himself off as he watches me run out of the room, heading to the bathroom.

Immediately, I pull my shorts down and replace my bloody pad. I stare at the menstrual blood on the white napkin, realizing only now that there was, in fact, a sigil of a three headed dragon on the surface.

"There is it."

I scream. I look up at the bloody Daemon staring back at me, smirking with crossed arms.

I hear Aemond run towards the bathroom door. He calls out my name in concern.

I rip my used napkin off my underwear and chuck it to the demon. I scream once more when he manifests beside me, avoiding my assault.

"Unsanitary," Daemon clicks his tongue.

Aemond bangs on the door, "what's going on? Do you need any help?"

I sidestep away from Daemon and hurriedly replace my pad.

Aemond calls out my name as he knocks.

Daemon turns to the door, lips curling in annoyance, "I will slay him if he enters."

My eyes widen. It was only then I realized there was a sword hanging upon his hip. I feel sick.

Aemonds sounds agitated, "I'm coming insi-"

"NO!" I rip my pants up and run to the door. I shove Aemond back the moment I can. I squeeze myself out of the small opening and I push him back until he finally repels me and grabs my arms. Aemond and I are in the kitchen by then.

He calls out my name and grabs my cheeks. His face is marked by worry.

I panic, "wait, where's Vhagar?"

"She's probably just-"

"DID HE KILL VHAGAR-"

"Look at me!"

I stare at him with wide, watery eyes. I whimper through a broken voice, "Vhagar was the only thing keeping me safe."

"From the demon?" Aemond asks carefully, swiping my tears with his thumbs.

"Please-" I choke out, "-believe me, I-"

"I believe you, darling," he strokes my hair. He pulls away and grabs the salt jar on the counter. He shows me the container before pouring some in his hand.

I raise my brows as he presents me the salt in his cupped palm.

Aemond speaks calmly, "if I see that fucker, I'll-"

"You'll what?"

Aemond shrieks and chucks the salt behind me. In the same terrified manner, I squeal and run behind Aemond.

The demon groans, "ao doru-borto qogralbar!" You stupid fuck!

Aemond pushes me behind him as he watches the blood covered man rub his eyes. He almost, out of instinct, chucked the whole jar at him, but he was glad he didn't. He pours a salt circle on the floor.

Aemond pulls me into his chest and begins to chant, "qrīdrughagon lēda ao!" Away with you!

Daemon looks up at us with a furious expression. His rage is quelled but when he sees the ground which we stood. His red eyes widen as he looks up at me, as if in disbelief of what he was seeing.

I tug on Aemond's shirt with agitation, "is this circle gonna keep us-"

"QRĪDRUGHAGON LĒDA AO!" Aemond shouts.

Daemon's eye twitches, "who is this imbecile you seek refuge in?"

"Don't answer it! Don't give him my name," Aemond says as he fishes something in his pocket.

"You act as though I know not your name is Aemond, imbecile."

"Aemond, I really think we-"

"Ignore him," says Aemond as he pulls out his phone.

Daemon chuckles darkly, "oh... how sweet you think such a thing is possible.

I cling tightly onto Aemond as he pulls out his phone. I whimper, "is now really the time?!"

"I'm calling Aegon," Aemond replies, placing his phone to his ear.

"What?!"

"He knows how to do an exorcism."

"?!?!?"

"You dare," Daemon yells, "think that I-"

"He was recruited in a cult once."

"-would be easily cast out by m-"

"QRĪDRUGHAGON LĒDA AO!"

If you enjoyed this fic, please consider donating €5 to Nour's GoFundMe so that she and her family can evacuate and experience the luxury of reading fics in the safety of their homes.

[homeofhousechickens]

Arctic Eggs and CHICKENS ramble

There is a ton of themes and stuff and different interpretations going on in this game but Im going to just talk about the chickens an the stuff i noticed.

To start off, the chickens are modeled after a red sex link production hens a type of hen bred for egg production at the cost of their lifespan. Battery hens rarely make it past their second birthday. Im not sure if the devs chose this breed on purpose or if it was just what a generic chicken looked like in their mind. Maybe they chose this breed because a white chicken would be washed out in the arctic environment.

The game starts with the player looking at the chickens in the cages and it brings up a lot of questions. Why are there so many chickens? Why are we the player character here? After you walk through this poultry prison you are tasked with the job of a poultry prepper meaning you cook eggs. It doesn't matter how many eggs you drop there is always more to fall into your pan. Its interesting to me that there is a surplus of chickens and eggs but their is apparently a food shortage going on in the game.

I think the player character has much more in common with the battery hens then they realize. It doesn't matter though you are greeted with the first line in the game, "Can you fry eggs ontop of Mount Everest?" It seems like and irrelevant question and in a way it is.

This game is quick to show you that you have very little freedom, same with the people you are cooking for. A lot of people are hungry and its not really for food is it? You cook cigs, bullets, beer, sardine cans and cockroaches. Eggs are not the only thing on the menu.

As you play the game multiple people tell you they are caring for the chickens but they are worried about what happens to them when they get taken away. Many seem quite distraught that they aren't being told what is happening to them especially since eating poultry has been banned (but not eggs). Some people still think about eating the chickens but are quickly disgusted by it soon after. One person even said they all "taste like tomatos now"

We can almost see this worry about caring for something and having it be taken away paralleled to the robot prisoners and their cockroaches, one of them weeping over the roaches you cooked for them like they were their own children. We can assume people also get taken away in this game, we see the prisons and the discarded brain in the garbage after all. Maybe this isnt about losing the chickens or the roaches? Maybe the poeple raising the chickens wish to know if they are being eaten?

There is no privacy in this game, people squat over toilets full of feces in front of everyone and the prisoners do the same as the guards watch. It reminds me of the conditions of a chicken battery cage, cramped and full of feces. These people are living very similar lives to the chickens with little freedom to choose how they live.

After feeding the necessary amount of people you go and meet the Saint of Six Stomachs, the supposed ruler/dictator of this place. He is an amalgam of organs and.. chickens? To me It is implied 3 of his stomachs are hens. You see these trapped chickens right before you see his face. Perhaps this is why chickens are banned because the Saint is made up of chickens, maybe this is where the chickens who are taken away go. This part of the Saint's anatomy fascinates me. You go and cook the hens 6 eggs.

Afterwards you are met with the Saint's head eerily making eye contact from their glass container. After cooking his egg he asks "Can you fry eggs ontop of Mount Everest?" He says he never thought about it since it was irrelevant to him. He is right about that, how would someone in his situation even think about doing that, like you and the chickens he is trapped. Just like to the player character it is a nonsense question that is irrelevant.

The credits roll after you grasp the saints hand, you pilot some kind of fighter plane to a mountain where you have a serious crash landing. As you and your friend look over the wreckage (where you may have died in tbh) you ignore your objective of frying eggs since you abandoned your pan at the Saint's and climb the mountain finding a chicken out of her cage perched on a rock. Maybe the chicken is here because you need an egg or maybe she is here because she made the choice to be. It is quite likely the player character will die on the mountain or is already dead.

The game ends after you slowly reach out and pet the chicken.

This game is absurd and challenging. The surreal vibes can kind of make it easy to not take it seriously especially with all the silly dialog but there is something very special about this game and what it is saying. I think it really "gets" chickens as a symbol as well and it was nice to see a game really use them for its story.

[scrumptiouskoalahottub]

☁️Matchmaker| George Clarke

[You're part of the production team for the sidemen, you're shooting on set with multiple guests where the sidemen open a restaurant for a day and have to invite their friends to test/try the food they prepare, one of them being George Clarke. You've never met him before but you seem to hit it off pretty quickly and get along great, which your coworkers pick up on]

It's 8am and you're just getting ready to set off to set to prepare the equipment for the day, you opt for avocado on toast as a quick breakfast snack before you catch the tube into central London, arriving for 9am you're greeted by All the boys and the rest of your production team. "Morning guys!" You say all cheery, as you waltz in, "do we know the initial set up for today?" You ask. "Yeah we've got 3 on kitchen, 1 on bar 2 serving and 1 front or house" Kon explains, you have a look at the guest list for the shoot to see if there's anyone you know.

Guest list:

Table 1 : George Clarkey, Arthurtv, Arthur hill 12pm-2pm

Table 2: Danny Aarons, Tennessee Thresh, AngryGinge 1pm-4pm

Table 3: Random Extras (table of 6 hen party) 3pm-6pm

Table 4: WillNE, James Marriott 3pm-6pm

You finishing looking at the guest list and prepare your camera for your station, you're in front of house & Guest interviewing, which means you'll record entrances or the guests and ask them how their experiences was/their expectations of the evening. The time is now 11am and you've just finished setting up the cameras for the day, you quickly take promo shots of the boys in their outfits for the intro and set the tables ready for the first guests to arrive. You were told the dress agenda was casual so you wear your flared mom jeans with a white bodysuit and your hair in a claw clip. The time is now 11:45 and the first guests have started to arrive in time for their first interviews. The first up is George Clarkey, Arthurtv and Arthur hill.

You meet them outside to record their intros, "hi guys, I'm y/n I'm part of the production team, I'm just going to film your intros before we let you in. Just a brief description on what you expect from today's experience and how you expect it to go" you explain to them and they all nod. "so which one of you is George?" You ask reading from the sheet, a tall, brown haired boy holds his hand up "that's me" he smiles at you, "nice to finally put a face to the name" you smile as you chuckle "Arthurtv?" Another, tall brown haired boy holds his hand up as you smile at him "and I assume you're Arthur Hill right?" You smile at the last boy remaining "yeah I am, how did you guess?" He laughs

You film their intro infront of the doors and ask them some questions, you couldn't help but feel a warm gaze heading in your direction, it was George. You kept catching him looking through the camera towards you as you were filming, you shrug it off and wrap up their intros and walk them inside, you film their entrance as they're met by Ethan in front of house, they head over to the bar to collect their drinks from JJ as they are shown to their table. Your part of filming was done for the most part so you take a seat as JJ makes you one of his "special" cocktails. "What have you put in this" you look at him concerned "nothing crazy don't worry" he laughs "so that means there's something crazy in it then" you let out a loud laugh as you take a sip of the cocktail, you set it down and look up to find George still catching your gaze. You set your drink down and make your way to the table to check in on them.

"Hey guys is everything okay?" You ask them with a warm smile "y-yeah fine thanks" George says stuttering his face turning red, tv&hill look at him and laugh "bro just tell her" TV says "tell me what?" You ask curiously "he thinks you're really pretty" Hill replies, George buries his head into his hands from the second hand embarrassment "aw thanks George, you're not so bad yourself" you smile at him as he emerges from his hands "right I best get back, I'll catch up with you guys soon, enjoy your food" you wave and walk away, you hear George faintly say "why the fuck did you do that" as he laughed with them both. "He seemed friendly" Kon mentions as you walked back "yeah he said I was pretty" you laugh as you, greet the other guests for their seats, you film their intros and set them down.

You've got 2 hours to kill before the next batch of people arrive, George and his friends were set to leave in around 20 minutes so you collect your camera ready to film their outros "ready boys?" You ask them as they emerge from their seats, you walk them over to the corner of the bar to film their ratings before the other guests arrive. You place your camera down and thank them for coming, they all leave when George stops in his tracks and turns to you "I know this is weird because we've just met but I couldn't get your number could I?" He asks, the boys smirk as they leave you to it "that's not weird, sure pass me your phone" you say as he hands you his phone, you enter your number and hand the phone back to him "it's been nice to meet you, I'll text you yeah?" He says "you too! I look forward to it" you reply with a warm smile, you give him a hug as he waves you goodbye and leaves. Suddenly you hear an abundance of clapping from behind you as all the boys cheer

"We knew that was going to happen!" JJ shouts "oh yeah and whys that?" You reply laughing "y/n we could feel the tension like an electric fence, he was digging you from the start!" Tobi chimed in "oh stop it" you laugh as you sit yourself down and prepare for the next guests

-

Part 2?

[the-nosy-neighbor]

Missing

There are people missing throughout the story of Welcome Home.  While these instances are mostly brushed off (what are missing people to an incomplete story?), it is a bit suspect that there are this many instances of mention of people we have no real information about.  So, we have about 3 categories:  missing we might still see, missing then found, and missing concept and context.  As with most things, this is complicated by the story still unfolding in front of us, so we might be able to change these around later.  Also, we aren’t sure where each event is happening in the timeline.

Missing we might still see: 

Julie--We have art of Julie’s siblings, but no siblings.  Her story also tells us that they all lived together in a cave in the woods, until Julie moved to the city.  Indications are that we will be seeing the siblings in the next update.  I believe it is possible that the sibs lived in Home at one point and are now missing.  There are no indications of parents or other extended family.

Eddie—there is a discrepancy here, Eddie is known to have a mother who is also a mail carrier, based on information in illustrated pages, and then it moves right on to say she wasn’t given a name and was only mentioned vaguely through the phone.  I assume Eddie calls her “Mama” like any good southern boy.  We have no idea where she might be, or if he has any other people.  Based on muppet behavior, I don’t think they could have missed out on having his mom come by to talk mail or crafts with him, because I feel like they love a parent/child shared experience.  I think he’s humanoid, but I didn’t see that here (and maybe it’s just mostly because of the style of his nose—see Guy Smiley or The Newsman (shocked to learn he doesn’t have a name))

Pro-tip:  When googling “human muppet” be advised that on r/Midjourney, Famous People if They Were Muppets, nightmare fuel abounds.  I love muppets and I might not sleep tonight.  Also, muppets with human eyes.  No.

I tend to assume that muppets with triangle noses are human and rounded noses are monster, but I don’t think that is a rule by any means. 

However, drawing muppets as human is incredibly endearing. 

Missing then found:

Maybe Howdy—We knew that Howdy had a ton of relatives from previous stories he has told, but we did not hear anything about the people who actually showed up.  I am assuming this would be a gag, random new family members showing up, though I wouldn’t be surprised to see the return of Howdo, Youdo, and his beatnik brother. 

Mama Beagle—She is found during Homewarming, but not sure where this commercial falls in the timeline.  She was definitely a big enough role to warrant her own product.  She lives on a farm, which is where Barnaby grew up.  AKA “The Chicken that Crossed the Road”

People we didn’t/don’t know were/are missing:

Frank’s people:  If Frank has any people, we don’t know about it.  His origins were a mystery. 

Sally’s people:  Anyone associated with Sally.  Given that she is a star, who knows if she has “people.”

Poppy’s people:  Poppy:  Comes from a nest of poppies in a hollow tree in the forest.  We don’t know that she has people definitely, but she has described her parents as a “flamingo on her father’s side and a bit of a hen on her mother’s side.”  Secret half-sibling to Barnaby?  It might warrant the size of the two being similar.  I think she is kind of a cross between Big Bird and Clifford the Big Red Dog.  (I looked at those two, and Big Bird isn’t explained and neither is Clifford, beyond that the author thought it would be fun.  I reject “love” being the answer because it was from the later movie.)  We could see people related to her, but I would imagine they will be normal bird size (which is really relative, considering Mama Beagle’s size.)

D—In the ad from the first iteration of the website, D is missing, and I believe it is a character.  I think it is Sunny, but I know it is not canon and Clown said.  I still think it.

I will feel bad about it, if that is the case, because I keep saying it.

Aside from the above, other art that gives this idea:

Theories exist that this image shows Barnaby’s fur as a patch, blood on Wally’s fingers, and his fingers covering a picture of Barnaby on the cover, which is considered to possibly be a missing persons/murder story.  All kinds of things could land you in the paper, though, and the whole image has red shading.

People that go missing throughout:

Eddie is missing during Homewarming, specifically the album.  (cut off on record after his name)

Poppy is missing during Homewarming, specifically that party  (confirmed in her bio)

Non-canon art that gives this impression:

I feel like there was another in this series. I do have an image of Sunny in this same style, like it is from the same book, but he doesn't get disappeared in his.

This one shows neighbors on the dial that have been taped over, as if they are no longer needed. Sinister.

[the-xolotl]

Three’s Not Always a Crowd. Pt. 1

Alastor x OC x OC

ᯓღ FoxingMoo Productions - @denki-69 Collab

ᯓღ a/n: poly relationship Alastor x OC x OC bc we can and we made our OCs girlfriends. Denki’s OC is a highland cow (most adorable things in the world look them up), Azazel is a black fox. Marsaili speaks Scots and Gaelic, Azazel occasionally in Spanish. Translations provided at the bottom.

SUMMARY: Alastor comes back home to find his lovers have already started the party without him. For now, he’d let them be, but no act of disobedience ever goes unpunished.

ᯓღ CW: scissoring, praise kink, terms of endearment, voyeurism, exhibitionism, orgasm denial, ruined orgasm, established poly relationship.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, YOU WILL BE BLOCKED ON SIGHT. Thank you~

The sound of mewls, pants and heavy breathing fills the room, the frame of the mattress groans with every thrust and bounce the girls give. “Marsy~” Azazel whines rocking her hips harder against Marsaili while spreading the cow demon’s legs further apart and rolling her hips to rub their glistening pussies together. Azazel is rutting against Marsaili like she’s in heat; hips dancing against each other in sync while throwing her head back clutching her claws into the thick meat of Marsaili’s thighs.

The latter isn’t doing that much better bucking her hips up as well, pawing and groping at her girlfriend’s body while praising her. “There you go, hen. Yer doing such a good job. Are you enjoying being on top fae once?” she cooed sweetly at her, lusty smile adorning her features. The fox nodded her head enthusiastically and wagging her tail faster at the praise. Azazel couldn’t help herself from leaning down and claiming Marsaili’s lips in a sloppy kiss, one she is all too enthusiastic to return immediately bringing a hand to the back of Azazel’s neck and gently caress the nape of her neck.

The heat of the room rose by several degrees, a sheer coat of sweat covered both of their bodies. Thrusts became even more erratic while they swallowed each other’s moans and hips worked faster and harder against each other both chasing their impending release.

Marsaili pulled away with a bite to her fox’s lips, “Foadaidh tu barrachd a ghabhail, nach urrainn?¹” she huffed out between pants in her native tongue. Azazel nodded, not being able to even form words anymore, Marsaili’s smile widen, “Nighean mhath,²” she whispered pulling Azazel into another kiss.

“M̷͉̺̌̐͝y̶͕͑͝,̶̩̞͙̅ ̶̻̂m̴̛͙̳͛̌ỷ̷͙.̴͈͔̻̌͛́ ̵̮͈́̀Ẅ̷͙́h̵̩̗͋ă̸̗̐̐t̶̬̗̗̑ ̴̤͙̖̀̀̋d̵̟͈̦̎̽̅o̸̟̔̏͝ ̷̬̎w̶͇͉͈̉e̶͚̽ ̴̛͉͖̱̌̎h̸̦̝̅̏ą̷͎̽͘v̶̟̞̫̓ẻ̷̺ͅ ̵̛̻h̵̼̻̬͗e̸̬̠͂̈́r̸͈̥̩̒̋e̵̼̜͂̒?̵̜͚̠͛̿” The room quickly filled with radio static. Alastor materialized in the room from the shadows startling his two lovers, catching them red-handed. In his bed no less, technically the bed that they all shared, but in his room.

They both froze in their tracks but didn’t separate, snapping their gaze over to Alastor. Dread is already washing over Azazel’s features, meanwhile Marsaili is huffing out in her heavy Scottish accent, “You were no here. We canny always wait fae you, loon. Fits the issue?³” She made it a point to wrap herself around the fox demon, grabbing a handful of her ass and squeezing it. Azazel let her head hang, not wanting to meet eyes with Alastor, as she hummed and leaned her ass into the other’s hand.

“Is that so, my little calf?” Alastor’s voice grew cynical, amused almost, crossing his hands behind his back, “You two are quite the sight. Eager, aren’t we, darlings?” his voice dipped dangerously low and it made Azazel grimace knowing this is going to be a very long night.

“We just—” ever the most obedient, Azazel tried to speak up, explain. But Alastor knew already; it wasn’t hard to guess Marsaili is definitely the one who instigated Azazel. Alastor knew his girls well. So he simply got comfortable setting his mic off the side, shrugging off his coat and moving to the plush arm chair pointing it directly to the bed. “No, no. Don’t mind me. Do carry on with your debauchery.” he crossed his legs elegantly as he sat.

While Azazel is still hesitant Marsaili didn’t need to be told twice. She pulled her flustered girlfriend back for another feverish kiss, tongue swiping over Azazel’s bottom lip asking for permission which she promptly granted. Marsaili sucked on her fox’s wet muscle gently to coax those pitchy sounds she loved so much. Azazel’s arousal didn’t take long to build back up again, grinding her hips with louder, throaty moans. The soft is heated yet tender, tongues rubbing and twisting around each other sensually.

Now, while he wasn’t mad, per se, he wasn’t pleased either they had dared disobey him. He had expected from the defying cow demon. His leniency doesn’t mean his girls will go unpunished, but for now he’d let them have their fun. Alastor watched closely with sharp, narrow eyes. He won’t hide that he wasn’t aroused by his pretty girls getting each other off, putting on a little show for him. A tent steadily pitched in his slacks, never tearing his eyes away from them. Alastor leaned back, his hand sliding down to his crotch to apply pressure to the growing bulge.

Marsaili breathed heavily into Azazel’s mouth as the cow’s teasing hand slid down the curve of her back feeling up every inch of her warm skin down to the base of her tail. Azazel mewled into her mouth, pulling away panting trying to regain the oxygen in her lungs that Marsaili stole from both the kiss and the hard tug of her tail. “Come on, hen. Dinna fast yersel⁴. Let me make you feel good.” fingers brush the fox’s tail with nails gracing the base of it, “Is it because yer master is watching?” she cocked her head towards Alastor with a smirk catching his gaze.

Azazel moans her girlfriend’s name softly, almost like a whisper, shaking her head. Azazel didn’t want to admit it but it is. Despite the fact that the three of them engaging in sexual acts together regularly, they hadn’t really sat down to just watch each other. It’s always done together as per Alastor’s orders. Today is the exception because Marsaili, being the little playful tease she is, convinced Azazel to get into bed with her, coaxing her with sweet words in her pretty Scottish accent and Gaelic. The cow demon knew how weak her girl was to such advances when she really tried.

“Porfa, ya no juegues así… No voy a durar¹,” Azazel arched into her touch, glancing over at Alastor to catch a sight of him steadily palming himself through his trousers. Her eyes lingered on his relaxed form, noticing the top few buttons were also undone, bow ties gone and his legs were spread lazily. He made eye contact with him, his smile widen ruby eyes sparkling with hidden malice.

Alastor hummed thoughtfully, loudly, to get both of the girl’s attention obviously, “Why don’t we make things a little more… Interesting? Hmm?” Alastor suggested in a low tone. Both of their ears perked up as they exchange quick glances. With a snap of his thin fingers a clear jelly-like toy materialized next to them on the mattress.

Marsaili’s smile widen with mischief, Azazel looked at the double ended dildo with incredulous bemusement. “Are you serious?” She didn’t know where to laugh or not. Alastor is definitely serious with the way he’s sitting there waiting, he even stopped palming himself.

“If you’re going to leave me out of our little activities… At least put on quite the show for me.” his ears gave a small twitch. Anticipation.

“Ye filthy bastard,” Marsaili laughed then gave her girlfriend’s ass a smack, “Come on, hen. Ye heard him.” She teased looking at her with half lidded eyes before flipping them over to put Azazel on her back. She yelped quietly at the sudden change in position and at how quickly Marsaili already had made quick work of her hands to rub her fingers over the fox’s wet hole. Marsaili guided Azazel’s hand to her own needy cunt, “Open me up too.” Her breath ghosting hotly over her lips, temping her again.

Their hands together not missing a beat, finger fucking one another open right on top of the other. Their knuckles brushed and bumped against each other both of their juices dripping and smearing all over one another. Marsaili also occupied herself with licking, sucking and biting at her girlfriend’s skin just to hear her moan and cry out for her. She left several marks that would be seen for days. For some moments they even forgot Alastor is even in the room; their focus completely on making sure they’re ready to take the length and girth of the toy.

Right before they cum, Marsaili stops them both, taking Azazel’s hands away making the fox whine in desperation and squirm. But the cow didn’t pay her much mind reaching for the dildo, then pushing Azazel’s legs against her chest and bringing one end of the toy into her inviting dripping cunt and pushing it inch by inch. Azazel arched her back and clutched the sheets feeling the easy slide of the spreading her even more. Next came Marsaili positioning herself to straddle her girlfriend’s hips and thighs to *ride* the dildo with it seated inside them both.

Azazel’s hands took purchase on her waist tightly as she felt the toy go even deeper as Marsaili’s pretty, soaked pussy sank onto the toy until their asses were pressed flushed together. They both shared a moan, both full and clits rubbing against each other Marsaili led with small rolls of her hips, gentle voices, getting use to the feeling and letting Azazel adjust until they were both too worked up to wait. Azazel guided the cow demon’s hips up and down with her hand while the other explored and traced her curves. Fingerings snaking their way to Marsaili’s breasts to pinch at her erect nipples. Marsaili let her head fall back, jaw dropped open in a silent scream, hips moving faster and harder against Azazel.

Their sultry moans filled the room becoming increasingly louder, orgasms built in their bellies coiling tightly and ready to snap at any moment. Alastor knew they were close, “That’s enough, sweethearts. Stop, I haven’t given you permission to cum just yet.” Marsaili didn’t seem to want to stop but when a tentacle held her mid thrust she whined loudly writhing against the cold tendril to break free. Alas gave up, knowing she wouldn’t win that battle. Once again, Alastor’s eyes shone with an underlying mischief to them, almost glowing as he observed them, their chests heaving, being ripped away from their impeding highs. “Why don’t we play a game?”

Gaelic 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿

¹ You can take more, can't you?

² Good girl

³ What’s the issue?

⁴ Don’t worry yourself

Spanish 🇲🇽

¹ Please, don’t tease me like that… I won’t last

—

© 2024 the-xolotl — all rights reserved. do NOT alter, translate, or repost my works on any platform without my consent, do not claim my content as yours.

[dragodragonborn]

I'm thinking of eventually starting a breeding project and would like to know yalls opinions on body type. Most probably wouldn't even notice much difference.

First off, cubalaya are much heavier/sturdier in body whereas the marans classic dual-purpose body type can fool you as to how much meat they actually have on them. Cubalayas are technically a dual purpose breed but most keep them for show. It's one of the rare breeds and most online breeders only keep the bantam varieties.

Personally I prefer the small comb and almost nonexistent wattles of the cubalayas along with the hens flat back in line with almost level tail.

What I'm looking for in my breeding project is

Color - white pattern red wheaten (finished breed)

Egg color - Speckled brown (not required)

Temperament - Flighty to escape predators

Foraging - excellent foragers

Egg/meat production - at least 3 eggs a week on the low end (most produce at least 4 a week) & good feed to meat ratio.

[hooksbackyardpoultry10]

Rhode Island Reds are celebrated for their versatility, being equally proficient as layers and as sources of meat. They are a testament to American poultry breeding ingenuity and continue to be cherished for their practicality and reliability in backyard flocks and small farms. https://hooksbackyardpoultry.com/

[cornley-amateur-drama-society]

How Cornley Cast Members Spent Their 25th Birthdays

In honour of my 25th birthday being last week (10/24), here's my headcanons for how the Cornley members spent theirs. As this is me we're talking about, this got. Long. Also, I don't know the ins and outs of each character's canon besides what I picked up on in the show and on their character wikis, so please go through this with an open mind.

Chris — March 7

Oh… Oh, my love…

So he would've been recently out of uni, and I picture him immediately diving into any sort of theatre production he can

So, he's working at a local theatre just outside Cornley

(But nowhere near his home village because he doesn't want to deal with the complex feelings that accompany being an adult in and of his own right, but having Celia and Raymond treating him like he can't make his own decisions as if he's still thirteen-years-old)

But anyway. Back to his 25th, which I picture him being born sometime in the late winter/early spring, perhaps around the beginning of March. So for flavour, let's agree on March 7th.

It's, let's say, around ten or eleven at night, and it's been drizzling on and off the entire week (I am not fact-checking British weather for this post) and he's off rehearsal and had been planning on going out with some cast mates to a pub near the theatre.

When it came time to go, however, they were nowhere to be found.

Picture newly twenty-five-year-old Chris looking around the front foyer of the theatre, in his slightly too-big tweed coat and leather messenger bag thrown across his body. His hands gripping at the strap of the bag nervously as he waits to see if anyone will be arriving, and the gnawing realisation that no one is coming.

His eyes sticking to the floor as he walks to the pub himself, the rain more of a mist than anything else. He got there and picked a small table away from everybody else, and ordered a pint to start.

The rest of the night continued in that way, Chris getting pissed alone in the back of some random pub on his birthday.

He didn't get back to his flat until some time after two a.m., and passed out on the sofa, messenger bag on the floor with the strap loosely in his hand.

The contents were strewn about on accident, a result of his drunken struggle with his bag.

Robert — August 24

Robert's twenty-fifth was spent with his older brother Alex and younger sister Ellie.

Alex's wife Gabi, and their daughter Lucy, were away on a small holiday to Brighton and couldn't make it.

Despite their best efforts, Ellie managed to get her older brothers to go out for a pub crawl to celebrate.

In the middle of August, on a warm night, the Grove siblings went from pub to pub in Ellie's uni town.

The fourth pub they hit, called the Dog and Broom or something similar, is where he met Denise.

She was there on a hen do for a friend of hers she worked with at a small magazine.

Robert was instantly smitten with her, the way her black hair reflected the purple and pink and blue lights of the pub, the way her dark red lipstick stood out against the light brown of her skin.

He hated to admit it to himself, but he knew if he didn't talk to her, he would be thinking about it for the rest of his life. (Ugh, how dreadfully romantic of it all.)

So he pat his siblings on the shoulder and pushed away from the bar top to walk to where she was standing, waiting for refills for the group with another friend.

The two women looked up as he approached, and when blue eyes met dark brown, everything disappeared. (Cliché, I know) He vaguely remembers hearing her friend laughingly say something as she walked away with a tray of drinks, but Denise was already biting her lip in a shy smile, so he was a bit preoccupied.

(I cannot not believe that Robert isn't a secret romantic, esp based on how he broke down on stage during “The Spirit of Christmas”.)

The remaining hours of Robert's twenty-fifth were spent in flirtatious conversation with Denise and a promise of a coffee date later that week.

Dennis — May 2

Dennis' twenty-fifth was spent at the aquarium with some friends of his that he's known since Year Four.

They paraded him around the aquarium with a novelty “happy birthday” fish hat that they'd found somewhere specifically for this.

He was all for it, if we're going to be completely honest.

And the staff, for the most part, were happy to let them walk around with the obnoxious hat and homemade banner strung across his chest.

Dennis and his friends took enough pictures that when they developed them a few days later, even though they binned the rubbish ones, they had enough pictures left over for the scrapbook his Mum and Aunt Dorothy were making.

(This was not the first one they were doing for him, but as he'd got older, it really focused more on things like his graduation and shows and birthdays. It was nowhere near as detailed as his first few were when he was a boy.)

After their outing, they went to a birthday dinner at a restaurant that Dennis had been saying he wanted to go to, but had never had the time.

They had pre-arranged for there to be a whole song and dance, literally, when the server would bring the cake out at the end of the meal.

Dennis ended up leaving the restaurant with his friends and the phone number of one of the servers in his pocket.

(He and Emma would go on to date for about six months after, breaking up just after Hallowe'en.)

Sandra — March 7

So, she and Chris share a birthday.

(I'm sure you can tell where this is heading…)

She and Chris were in the same company, but she had a larger part in this show than he did, and the two of them really didn't have any scenes together, so they just knew each other in passing.

(The same way you know someone in one of your classes, but have only talked to them in group discussions, and even then, not that much, really.)

But she, being Sandra, is a magnetic person and knows how to work a room.

And even though she didn't have a lead role, she still got on with the leading cast members.

So much so that, when they found out it was her birthday a few days before, they promised to take her out after rehearsals.

I don't think that she's cruel enough, even as a mid-twenty-year-old, to have let the cast take her out if she'd known that they promised to go out with Chris, so she didn't know about any of it. Not even that they're birthday buddies.

She didn't notice the cloud of guilt that hung over some of the cast members as they walked to a bar on the north end of Cornley square, a bit more high-end for their budget, but hey. You only turn twenty-five once, right?

She's just flush with excitement about going out, since the last few years she'd been too busy and focused with/on other things. She had mainly celebrated her birthday with a friend or two, or whomever she was roommates with at the time, by drinking some wine and re-watching movies like Pride & Prejudice (2005) or The Importance of Being Earnest (2002).

Once they got there, a posher place called The Thistle's Roundel, the cast promised Sandra that she wouldn't be paying for a drink tonight. They had her covered.

She was touched, though she didn't take outright advantage of their promise. After all, they still had rehearsal tomorrow and the last thing she needed was a hangover.

But she's not a saint, so she did indulge a little in the drinking.

There was dance music being played by a live DJ, and a space in the middle with coloured, light-up tiles to comprise a dance floor.

She and several of the other gals in the show spent quite a lot of time on it, laughing about how the blues and greens of the floor would make them look haunted, but the oranges and pinks made them look sunburnt.

It was on one of her water breaks that she made eye contact with a guy a few seats away from where she was standing by the bar.

He wasn't drop-dead fit like Hugh Grant or Jude Law, but there was something about his smile that made her cheeks flush pink for a reason other than her dancing.

After a few minutes of glances and coy smiles, he made his way over to her, breaking away from the two men that he was with.

She sat her water down on the bright purple napkin and subtly wiped her hand on her skirt, drying it off from the condensation and sweat.

Once he made it, he stuck out a hand with a smile. “I'm Jonathan.”

She took it, a matching smile blooming on her face. “Sandra.”

Annie — November 24

Annie spent her 25th with her partner, Sher; her older sister, Alice; and Alice's partner, Bren, along with their parents.

Mr. and Mrs. Twilloil took the four of them to an ice skating version of the ever-classic The Nutcracker.

It has been a tradition for the Twilloils to go see a performance of The Nutcracker every year around Christmastime. When the sisters were little, they took part in community ballet classes, which is why the tradition was started.

(Mrs. Amita Twilloil would've taken them regardless of them being in ballet or not. She adored Tchaikovsky's music, and was a professional ballet dancer when she was younger.)

(Alice was dancing in the role of a Snowflake for three years in a row, and Annie was a Sugarplum Fairy once.)

Annie had been dating Sher for a little over two years by that point, the two of them having met in an improv class a few years before, and started a solid friendship.

Sher, actually, was the one who introduced Alice and Bren on a blind date.

But, I digress. Back to the birthday celly, lol

The Nutcracker on Ice was something that everyone was looking forward to. Everyone all bundled up in their coats and scarves and gloves, huddling togerther against the rail of the outdoor ice skating rink.

Hot chocolate vendors hovered at the edges of the crowd, selling spiced nuts and baked sweet potatoes as well.

The sounds of the crowd while the orchestra warmed up gave the Twilloils and their guests the warm feeling of Christmas in their hearts.

Annie ended the night of her 25th with a snog under multicoloured fairy lights decorating one of the lampposts along the pavement.

Max — June 15

Max spent his 25th on his family's country estate with his family, cousins and nieces and nephews running about over the Bennett grounds.

Because the Bennett family is so large, they have a tradition of celebrating all the birthdays of a given month at the beginning of that month.

(This tradition started with Max's great-grandmother after the War. It eased her mind to have all the family with her after the loss of her husband and eldest two sons.)

Other than himself, the month of June in the Bennett family had the birthdays of Aunt Elsie who was celebrating her 67th; Uncle Joseph who was celebrating his 56th; Margot, his older cousin who was celebrating her 34th; Adelaide, his younger cousin who was celebrating her 22nd; Marcus, another younger cousin who was celebrating his 18th; and the twins June and May, his nieces, who were celebrating their 12th.

The day was spent with various events around the estate, such as the younger kids playing around in the swingset and fort setup, and some of the teenagers taking the horses for a ride.

The older members of the family sat under the shaded patio with their spouses (if they were present), drinking tea and other, potentially more alcoholic, drinks.

Those Bennetts who were in their twenties through forties were found in various places throughout the estate. Several were with the younger kids; these Bennetts were the parents of some of the children there.

Others joined in on horseback riding, taking one of the trails with a drink as well. These brave members were almost all in their late-thirties and in their forties.

Max hung out with his siblings—Hugh, his older brother by three years, and Caroline, his older sister by two years. They were also joined by Adelaide and Marcus, and Jax, Hugh's eight-month-old son.

The day ended with a large birthday cake with everyone's names for the month of June, and a tonne of presents and cards that were opened and gushed over.

His Nana Claire owned the Bennett Estate, and since it was so large, everyone was able to stay the night there in the country, if they were so able.

Max's Uncle Charles (40), Aunt Angela (53), cousin Algernon (32), and cousin Nikki (24) were unable to stay as they had early shifts at the hospital in the morning.

All in all, it was a typical Bennett birthday event, and Max was content to be celebrating with everyone.

Trevor — September 2

Trevor hated his birthday.

Hated celebrating it, hated being reminded of it, hated everything about it.

Every year, something seemed to go wrong on his birthday.

He broke his arm when he turned 12. His girlfriend at the time turned out to be cheating on him with some posh prick in the Year above who played rugby, and he found out when he saw them kissing behind the bleachers at the pitch on his 15th. His Grandad passed away on his 18th. He found out he was supposed to be a twin on his 23rd.

And those were just the ones that sprung to mind instantly when he thought about September 2nd.

So, suffice to say, Trevor rarely ever discussed his birthday with anyone who didn't already know it.

He was already involved in Cornley's stage crew program at this point, and had been working with the theatre since he was old enough to.

He liked to work with his hands, but he also loved learning the ins and outs of how a theatre worked. Especially the lighting tracks and cues.

This past year, he had been working as an unofficial assistant to the Lighting Manager, an old man named Ralph who reminded him of his Grandad in a way.

The show that they were working on was for the Children's Theatre Program, a stage version of Frog and Toad.

Opening night was September 2nd.

When Trev got to the theatre, he found out that Ralph had called-in sick.

(He wasn't, really, but his granddaughter was in the show, and he wanted to be able to watch little Izzy on stage without having to worry about timing things right.)

So, Trevor was promoted on the spot that night to Lighting Manager.

He took to it like a duck takes to water, helped on, of course, by the fact that he'd been learning the cues now for several weeks.

Though he was slightly nervous, the show went off with only a few minor hitches that were more to do with the kids being kids and waving to their parents whilst on stage, or getting their costumes caught on props, than anything serious.

There was a standing ovation for the kids, and Trevor found himself genuinely smiling and cheering them on from the booth. The Sound Manager, Missy, next to him was gushing over her son's titular performance as Toad.

After curtain call, as Trevor was cleaning up the booth and making sure things were set for the Saturday showings, Ralph came back and introduced little Izzy to him.

Izzy glowed at Trevor's review of her roles as Cattail #3 and Egret #2, her frizzy red hair only making her blush that much more vibrant.

On their way to the rest of their family, Ralph and Izzy stopped and gave Trevor a dark blue envelope, his name written on it in Ralph's hand in silver ink.

Ralph winked at him and touched the side of his nose, wishing Trevor a goodnight, and he and Izzy disappeared into the crowd.

Trevor had a small, slightly confused frown on his face, but he opened the envelope on the spot.

Inside, there was a "happy birthday" card that was signed by the rest of the crew and Izzy. Little frogs and toads and other show related doodles appeared in various spots of the card throughout. Some were obviously done by the wee girl, but others he recognized as being done by his fellow crewmates.

It's still on display in Trevor's flat to this day.

Vanessa — October 31

Hallowe'en baby!!! We love to see it <333

Soz, the favouritism LEAPED out of me, lmao.

I know Hallowe'en isn't as big a deal across the pond, but this is my headcanon so fuck it, we ball <3

Nessa spent the morning of her 25th chaperoning her niece Alyson's class Hallowe'en party at school.

Aly insisted her Auntie Nessie dressed up as the Loch Ness monster, and since Aly was eight, she won the argument.

Nessa showed up at Aly's Primary school at the same time as the other chaperones, slightly embarrassed about the stuffed felt head on top of her own head.

That lasted until she saw Aly's friend's Mum wearing what looked like the child of a clown and old French mime.

The combination of black and white colouring on a clownfit did a lot to help her mood.

Aly greeting her with a delighted scream of, "AUNTIE NESSIE!" while wearing a mini scuba diver outfit lifted it even more.

The party at the school was fun, all things considered.

The Primary teacher for Aly's class, Mr. Thoms, had arranged for the kids to decorate Jack-O-Lantern cookies as one of the classroom activities.

Aly suckered her Auntie into helping her decorate, making a winking Jack-O-Lantern with a sharp-toothed smile.

After that, the Primary school had a trick-r-treat event in which all the kids got to walk around from classroom to classroom to get candy and show off their costumes. Nessa took many photos for her brother and sister-in-law, David and Wendy, of Aly going around with her little plastic mummy's head.

The school day ended early, and Vanessa took her niece back home to her flat. Aly was going to hang out with her until David came to get her after work.

Vanessa, as an early 25th birthday gift to herself, had got a new cat a week and a half ago.

The cat was older, around seven or eight by the vet's guess, and she was a lovely dark tortoiseshell colour. Her orginal name was lame, in Vanessa's eyes, and she was always rather a fan of Shakespeare.

So, despite the cat being a middle-aged lady (in cat years, of course) Nessa named her Othello.

Aly adored Thello, and the affection was reciprocated. As soon as Nessa's niece's voice was heard outside, the two Wilcock-Wynn-Carroway gals heard Othello's loud meowing.

The cat curled up underneath the chair that Aly was sitting in at the dining table as she worked on her homework, purring loud enough to be heard from a few feet away. Nessa smiled fondly at them and took candid photo to send into the family groupchat.

After David came to get his daughter, Vanessa got changed out of her Loch Nessa cosume and into a pair of fuzzy pyjama bottoms with a comfy long-sleeved shirt and a dressing gown thrown over top it all.

She planned to spend her 25th with Thello, her favourite takeaway from that Indian place down the way, and a marathon of Midsomer Murders. She had a cupcake and a pint of ice cream in her freezer for afterward.

Yes, Vanessa's 25th birthday would be spent with her cat and feeling cozy and taking time for herself.

Jonathan — May 18

Jonathan, on his 25th birthday, was at an event that his company was hosting, ringing in the new summer catalog.

He didn't really have a choice in going or not going because his two best friends, Ben and Davy whom he's known since they were doing kids' modeling, dragged him to it.

While Jono himself stuck mainly to hand and wrist modeling, Ben and Davy had delved into full-body photographing. Ben tended to be called up for more athletic shoots, while Davy was more elegance and class.

As a wrist model, Jono could do any of the above and then some.

But he worked with these people nearly 24/7. He just wanted one day, just one, where he could not have to see Mandie, Brandie, Sandie, and all the other -ie's he worked with.

Davy and Ben promised him that he'd only need to stay there for an hour before they'd skive and go on a mini-pub crawl.

He was holding them to that no matter what.

But that night, Elsie Harris, a writer for an online magazine who sometimes worked with him, was also there.

He'd fancied her for several months now, and she seemed to feel the same. He wasn't positive, but Sandie and Davy kept pushing the two of them together, and Elsie didn't look all that upset by it.

Once he saw her, Ben and Davy knew that any chances of the mini-pub crawl happening were over.

They still smiled and chatted with her when she and Jono came over, of course. Though the two men were disappointed about the way the night changed, they were thrilled to see her leaning into Jono's space.

And they were even more thrilled several minutes later when Jonathan said something about grabbing their stuff and heading out.

Ben looked at Elsie and then back to the birthday boy with a question in his eyes, and Jonathan answered, telling his best friends that he had mentioned what they were planning on doing, and that she wanted to come with them.

She'd never been on a pub crawl on purpose before, and she wanted to try it out.

The more the merrier is how Davy took that news, and the four of them set off into the night.

Elsie, as it turned out, knew how to hold her drink and did so, drinking Davy under the table accidentally.

Ben jokingly complained about having to carry Davy's deadweight back to their flat, but when Elsie apologised, he brushed it off.

Ben asked the bartender to call a cab for him and Davy because David was in no way fit to continue partying.

When Elsie and Jonathan saw them off, Ben and Davy drunkenly wished Jono a happy birthday for the nth time that night, getting into the cab. Jonathan ended up having to tell the cabbie where to go, seeing as the three of them lived in the same flat.

Elsie and Jonathan ended up going back to her place and celebrating his 25th a... let's say in a different way.

He woke up the next morning with her hair spread across his chest, and their hands locked together.

**Bonus**

Lucy — April 17

Lucy spent her twenty-fifth birthday with the Cornley Amateur Drama Society, rehearsing for A Trial to Watch.

They had just started to act it out on stage, reciting their lines rather than reading from the book, and she was excited.

She loved working with Cornley and her Uncle Robert, even if her Mum and Dad weren't especially keen on the idea.

(Which, to be fair, was understandable. The last two times she'd been on stage with them, she'd suffered from several broken bones and two concussions.)

But Uncle Robert, along with Max and Chris, assured them that since all she had to do was simply walk on stage and sit in a jury box, surrounded by several other people, the possibility of her breaking anything or getting a concussion was nearly impossible.

She wasn't a child any more, of course, but even though her parents were divorced and frequently disagreed on many things, the one thing they always agreed on was her safety.

The rehearsal went smoothly, even on Dennis' behalf which was a surprise. He hadn't really forgotten any of his lines, though he still did mess some phrases up, but he did well.

They needed to work on physical cues, but it would be easier with the set when it was built.

After rehearsal, the cast took her out to a pub that was near the theatre for drinks and a show.

It was drag night at the pub, and Lucy adored every second of it.

Several queens flirted with Chris, much to the casts' general amusement, and a king or two did hit on Sandra and Max, much to the casts' great amusement.

After the show, Lucy received gifts from each member, and she may have cried a little a lot into her cocktail.

Her Uncle Robert took her back to his and Dennis' flat after she had one too many and started to fall asleep at the table.

Robert set her on his bed, made sure her phone was plugged in to charge overnight, grabbed some pain meds for her head in the morning and a water bottle, and set it on the bedside table.

He texted his brother Alex and his ex-sister-in-law Gigi and let them know that their daughter was fine and would be sleeping off the celebrations at his flat.

He made sure that his niece was safe and on her side, just in case, before going to the couch in the living room and piling pillows and blankets on it to sleep.

Lucy woke up the next morning, her official second day of being 25, to the sounds of Robert and Dennis chatting in the kitchen accompanied by the smell of French toast and coffee.

(She was also joined in bed by a headache, but thankfully the meds Robert left out the night before were right there, and she solved that issue rather quickly.)

[casual-praxis]

Since I haven't gotten around to drawing them yet, I haven't talked much about Blue and Green in the Slime Rancher AU (I really need to come up with a name for it), this will hopefully change in the near future, but in the meantime, here's a random assortment of fun facts about them.

+ Green is in a similar position to Bea (the Slime Rancher protagonist), in that he left behind a close friend with whom he may have had a romantic connection with in order to nurture his adventurous spirit. That friend was Zelda, and she still regularly sends him starmail to keep him updated on how things are back in their hometown.

(Note: one of my friends wants me to bring Zelda to the range and theme her after a pink slime, which is a really cute idea but hh I don't know how to get her there. And I don't want her to be viewed as a relationship rival, she's too sweet for that.)

+ Blue, when he initially shows up, is very dismissive of the whole, "slimes are cute, they're like lil' buddies" notion. They can make him easy money. And the faster he can save up, the faster he can get a shuttle back to Earth and kick his family's teeth in for sending him there in the first place. That's all that matters to him. The other losers on the ranch might subscribe to the whole ridiculous pyramid scheme, but not Blue.

Nope, he's totally not falling for it. He's not falling for Green's genuine concern, Red's effortless handling of borderline explosives, Vio's general competence, or Shadow's playful banter. But especially not this goopy, waterlogged slime that keeps trying to follow him around and--hey, Window's Vista, how the hell is he supposed to keep one of these bastards when the Slimepedia says they evaporate?!

More notes under the cut! ^^

+ Green may be the unofficial leader in everyone else's mind, but to Green, the leader is actually Vio due to their experience gap and the fact Vio has seniority. He often goes to Vio for guidance on certain unforeseen issues, like a hen-hen infestation (they are everywhere, help) or advice on where to put a new corral or silo.

But when it comes down to it, Green is the one to step up quickest in high-stress situations (like Tarr outbreaks) and de-escalate conflicts (interpersonal or otherwise), which he doesn't even hesitate on. He has everyone's trust, he gets things done, and he does all the communicating with other ranches. He is the leader, the others have no doubts.

+ Despite his prickly demeanor early on, Blue was still asked to help with physical labor around the ranch at the very least. He has a knack for construction, and production speed usually went up with him actually keeping the projects organized.

Red in particular would go to Blue for help with heavy lifting, even if it was just so he didn't have to do it himself (Blue would never admit it, but he was the one to initially reach out to help Red. Watching him struggle wasn't as fun as he thought it'd be). Also, sometimes Shadow would rope him into tests of strength on streams, those were always nice ego boosts (not that he needed one).

+ Green and Blue both use nicknames for the others, but while Green's are largely affectionate and closer to pet names, Blue's are more akin to insults (which become softer over time).

For Green's nicknames, he uses Firework or Firefly for Red, Puddle Fly or Water Bug for Blue, Jewel Beetle or Bookworm for Vio, and Moth(ra) or Shads for Shadow. (Can you sense a pattern here lmao.)

For Blue's nicknames, he cycles through quite a few, especially early on since he doesn't intend to learn anything about the others. He uses Stringbean, Airhead, "His Greenness", etc for Green (Greenbean and Froggy once he stops being a dick), Ground Zero, Creepy, Ash-For-Brains, etc for Red (Firecracker, Hotshot, and Sparkles once he stops being a prick), Windows Vista, Glitchy/Twitchy, Violetta, etc for Vio (Bug and V once he stops being an ass), The Influencer (derogatory), Porphylophile (person who really likes purple), and Eyeliner, etc for Shadow (Kitten and Princess ((still teasing)) once he stops being a dumbass).

That's all I have time for right now, work is starting soon hhh--but I definitely have more for these two planned! Look forward to that if you'd like, and thank you for reading this far!

[gaybananabread]

☾༺Just a Bit Longer༻☽

~So I’ve been brainrotting over RW&RB for a solid month now. The goblins need a walk, and I cannot productivity until they get one. I love these two’s dynamic; they’re just so silly. Not my best work, but writer’s block be damned; I needed to post something this week. This is completely self-indulgent, but if it’s your thing, I hope you Enjoy!~

Lee: Alex

Ler: Henry

Summary: Alex is overworking himself, going late into the night and working hours without breaks. Sick of his lover’s dreadful work-life management, Henry takes it upon himself to get Alex to sleep.

Warnings: mild Red, White & Royal Blue spoilers! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

Life for Alex Claremont-Diaz was the best it had ever been. Henry came over almost daily from his Brownstone, and he finally felt like he had a definite idea of where his life was headed. The only downside: he was still in school.

The NYU Law course was a bit more rigorous than he’d expected, but it was definitely what he wanted. Sure, that meant long, painful hours of reviewing for extremely difficult exams, discovering that tort is a real word, and trying to figure out a system for coursework that didn’t make his brain want to explode.

His sleep schedule was already shit, so he didn’t think any of it would be a problem. If he just pulled a few all-nighters and pumped out some late-night essays, he’d be fine. What he didn’t think about, however, was how Henry would take it.

Alex was working late on another essay, running off of coffee and pure determination. He hadn’t meant to put it off, but with the three exams he’d had that week, his mind was a scattered mess.

Henry had put up with it for most of the night, but as two AM rolled around, his understanding had run dry, replaced by concern.

Knocking the “shave and a haircut” pattern on his lover’s door, Henry entered the room. He was immediately greeted with the strong smell of coffee and desperation.

There sat his boyfriend, hunched over a computer with a half-eaten ham sandwich (he couldn’t handle turkey anymore) by his side. The blonde couldn’t help the sad sigh that escaped him.

Alex looked up, his glasses nearly all the way down on his nose. It was unfairly cute, though Henry shoved that feeling down for the moment.

“Uh…hey, Hen. Not done yet; gimme, like, another half-hour.” Alex’s gaze was back on his computer in seconds.

Henry rubbed his temples, already feeling a headache brew. For once, why couldn’t Alex just use common sense?

“Alex, darling. It’s two in the morning. You need to sleep.”

Alex scoffed, not stopping for even a second. “Says you. You stay up later than I do most of the time.” While that wasn’t untrue, Henry’s problems were because of insomnia. Alex was just a stubborn asshole.

“Look, I’m going to be brutally honest here. You look terrible, you seem exhausted, and the bags under your eyes could fit the entirety of the Royal Wardrobe. Go. To. Sleep.”

Henry laid things out bluntly, crossing his arms. It was meant to leave little room for negotiation, but defying Henry’s expectations was Alex’s special talent.

“This is due at eight AM…uh, today. I’ve only got six hours to finish this thing, but I’m almost done. I promise, just a bit longer.” This would have been more comforting if Alex hadn’t already said that three times.

“Alex, please. If you sleep now, I’ll wake you up at six, and we’ll work on it together. It hurts to see you like this, dear.” He used pet names, trying to sway Alex to listen. It was a last-ditch effort; if he still refused, Henry didn’t have much of a plan left. Sure enough, he did.

“It’s fine, Henry. I’m all good, just a little spacy. I promise, the moment I’m done, I’ll eat your face. Okay, baby?” Alex flipped the other man’s strategy back on him, hoping to fully bury the concern. He was fine: end of story.

For Henry, though, the tale was just beginning. He racked his brain, searching for anything to help him get Alex to cooperate. He could only remember one time anyone was successful.

Alex had invited him to the White House for June’s birthday party. As the night dragged on, everyone but Alex was drunk and exhausted. To tire him out, June had employed some rather…unconventional methods.

Methods that would be extremely useful to him at that moment.

Casually approaching his boyfriend, Henry put a hand on the laptop. Then, after making sure the work was saved, he closed it. He pointedly ignored Alex’s scoff and protests, grabbing his chin and pulling him in for a kiss. Alex still squirmed, though a smile was breaking out on his face.

That was all Henry needed to continue. He gripped Alex under his thighs, lifting the man up and plopping him down on his nearby bed.

A surprised sound left him, his cheeks gaining a nearly imperceptible red hue. He was expecting some push-back from Henry, but nothing this active.

“Just couldn’t wait for me, could you~?” Alex weteased, starting to sit up on the bed. Henry was quick to stop that, grabbing Alex’s arms and pinning them above his head.

Before his lover could make another joke, Henry tapped a few fingers on his side. That shut him up, if only for a second.

“Henry, I swear to fucking god, if you try anything-” He was cut off when Henry squeezed his side, resulting in an indignant squeak.

“Sorry, dear, but I’m afraid I already have~” With that, Henry clawed his fingers into Alex’s stomach, straddling him.

The tired man tried to bite his lip, but the coffee wasn’t quite enough to give him that energy. A few giggles slipped out, quickly followed by tiny curses.

“What’s the matter, Alex? Something bothering you?” Henry chuckled, leaning down further to try and hold him still.

Kicking and squirming, Alex tried anything to get away from the evil fingers. He was tired, though; his brain was moving at half-speed and felt like it was running through soup.

“Gehehet ohoff me, youhuhu prihick!” Henry has decided to move up to his ribs, scritching and scratching between each bone.

Even on a good day, it’d be hard for Alex to get out from under him. With no sleep, coffee fumes and pure spite, he had no chance.

“Why on Earth would I do that? I’m quite comfortable here. Besides, you seem to be enjoying yourself, if that blush is any indication,” Henry taunted, jutting his chin out. He didn’t really need to, but it was a sure-fire way to rile Alex.

“Fuhuhuck off! Hehenry, I swehehear- quihit!” Alex tried to bury his face in his shoulder, though he only drew attention to a new target. Henry leaned down, blowing a raspberry on his boyfriend’s neck. Alex would rather die than repeat the squeal that left him.

“Wow, Alex. Perhaps the Barbara Streisand accusation wasn't so far off,” he teased, his voice about as smug than Alex had ever heard it.

The typically witty man was in giggly shambles, trying his best not to sound like a child. He wasn’t very successful.

“SHUHUhut uhup, youhu douche!!” Laughing like a toddler, Alex was still pumping out insults. Henry was about to put a stop to that. Going for the kill, he hooked his thumbs into Alex's hip divots, kneading and squeezing the area.

That seemed to work quite well.

“GAH- HEHENRY! You- YAHAHA! FAHAHACK!” The law student lost his shit, practically cackling under his boyfriend.

Alex arched his back off the bed, only bucking into the ticklish feeling. There was no room in his mind for witt; the best he could do was “fuck fuck fuck it tickles oh my god-”

Hearts practically formed in Henry’s eyes at the adorably hysteric reaction. Still, as cute as it was, he had a mission.

“This all ends the moment you agree to rest. Or…would you like me to continue? I bet I could just tickle you senseless all night. You’d surely be exhausted then, wouldn’t you?”

Alex couldn’t even get a word out, shaking his head as he laughed. His curls went wild, getting in his eyes and puffing up. Henry wanted to brush it from his eyes, but he had to keep his priorities in order. There would be time for fawning over him later.

“HEHENRY! PLEHE- snrk” It took a solid minute, but Alex’s resolve was weakening. He was already tired beforehand, and laughing his ass off wasn’t helping. The squirming had died down almost completely, snorts slipping into the lax cackles.

While it wasn’t an agreement, the Prince could tell that his lover would be out in seconds. Henry stopped, switching to gentle traces down his sides. The first son tried to calm down, a steady stream of giggles pouring from his lips.

“H-hoholy shihihit… Thahat was evil.” He tried taking some deep breaths, rubbing his cheeks. Alex hadn’t laughed that hard in a while. He was close to just passing out right there, pure exhaustion hitting him like a freight train.

“Possibly. You deserved it, though.” Henry leaned down, gently kissing his curved lips. This sight was one of his new favorites: Alex, his toned skin flushed, practically a puddle of giggles beneath him.

Alex flipped him the bird before melting into the kiss. He weakly pulled his boyfriend down, snuggling against him. He’d all but forgotten about his essay, eyes closed the moment he laid still; the poor guy was wiped. It wasn’t terrible by any means, but all his energy was gone.

Carefully grabbing his phone, Henry set an alarm for six AM.

They’d finish that research paper; he was certain of that. With a bit of sleep, Alex would be a writing machine. True, the slightly rushed grammar would be atrocious, but that’s what Henry was there for. Pulling the sheets up over them both, Henry breathed a happy sigh.

“Good night, love.”

[theredpelican]

my dad loved me so much. he was a very flawed man, a product of the 1950s Arab world, the last of seven kids raised by a military general, a stubborn Taurus with the emotions of a child - but that’s the one thing that never wavered, my whole life. he loved me so much. a painful childhood, a miserable life, and through it all, he loved me. a quick lived marriage, an even faster divorce, rumors about his sexual dysfunction. and then he met my mother. a beautiful divorcée, kind and mad, the cheekbones of a goddess, a contagious borderline hysterical laugh, a fractured mind. two misfits getting hitched in the suffocating august heat, in the middle of the civil war. it all looks so peaceful in the pictures, a church, smiling relatives, you wouldn’t have guessed that snipers were, at that same moment, butchering beirut. i often wonder who my parents would’ve grown up to be, without the war. my dad was 23 when it started; my mom, barely 13. they lived through it all, in basements and mountain hideouts, waiting for peace, life, death. they had a child before me, a baby boy, named george after my paternal grandfather. the military general. i never met either of them; my mother killed her baby, my brother, in drugged madness. when i found the birth certificate, two decades later, my dad broke down and told me the story, tears flowing down his sunken cheeks. his head split like watermelon, he said, and then said nothing at all. i used to wonder why he stayed, all these years, but now i know it was for me. created in a little test tube, delivered into the world by c-section, religiously bottle-fed by my dad while my mom ignored my existence. that’s why he stayed. he loved me so much, he loved her so much, and the pain, no matter how excruciating, was never enough to erase the love. he cradles me so lovingly, in childhood pictures, like a mother hen fussing over her child. he loved me so much he threw me extravagant birthday parties every year, inviting all my friends until i had no more friends to invite. he loved me so much he’d stay awake all night when i was sick, holding my hand. he loved me so much he’d tuck me into bed at night and say a prayer; “may jesus, saint joseph, and saint mary be with you. have good dreams and hopefully no nightmares.” he loved me so much he’d pick out my favorite nuts in the nut mix and present them all in a bowl. he loved me so much he put me in front of french tv as a child so id speak another language fluently and be able to leave. he loved me so much he went to concerts with me when i had no friends to go with. he loved me so much he went to see scorpions, thirty seconds to mars, red hot chili peppers, and even mika with me. he loved me so much he took me to the movies every sunday, to the point that the cinema manager noticed us and gave us free tickets. he loved me so much he bought me enough books to fill up an entire room, even though he couldn’t speak English and French. he loved me so much he brought me a kitten and wept when it died. he loved me so much he’d drive me around the lebanese mountains until he was exhausted, just because i wanted to listen to music and stare out the window. he loved me so much he’d let me sit on his lap and cuddle with him for hours, even though he was a little bored. he loved me so much he’d take me to amusement parks and wait around for hours while i tried all the rides. he loved me so much i never knew how expensive it is to be alive, not until the lebanese economy collapsed and he couldn’t shelter me anymore. he loved me so much he let me leave. he loved me so, so, so, much, and i didn’t have the strength to be with him when he needed me most. i wasn’t there to hold his hand. he loved me so much and i couldn’t even go to his funeral.