#rescue dog sweatshirts and hoodies

[time4hemp]

This Double Sided Printed Hoodie Is Perfect For Every Top Dog With An Attitude - please share this.

[iezeradd]

3 12 18 20 for the otp asks!!!

3. Do they wear the other’s clothes? (sweatshirt, bandana, necklace, etc.)

Nuallef wears Takka's clothes aaaalllllll the time. Most of his loungewear and pyjamas are Takka's shirts and hoodies. Takka can't fit in Nuallef's clothes but he has been known to carry one of his scarves on him or use his clothes as a blanket or pillow when in wolf form.

12. Do they have many heated arguments? How do they smooth things over?

They rarely do and it's usually about relatively inconsequential things. Nuallef is way more likely to calmly talk things through than to argue but Takka can and does sometimes get upset and start yelling. When that happens, Nuallef backs off and gives him time to sulk calm down so they can discuss things more calmly and come to an agreement.

18. How likely are they to have fur babies? How many and what kind?

They would both like to have fur babies, especially Takka. He would LOVE to have a dog and he regularly tries to adopt random bats he found outside. But with how volatile Takka is and how easy it is for him to frenzy, it's not safe for them to keep pets. Takka would probably just fucking die if he adopted a puppy and then accidentally killed it because he got overwhelmed and had a panic attack. Also bats are not pets, Takka, you volunteer at a bat rescue and sanctuary, you KNOW that's where you should take it if you think it's hurt, I know it's skrunkly-squeaky but you can't keep it.

20. Choose one song that perfectly describes their relationship.

That's a REALLY tough one because their relationship is complex and spans almost 2 decades and has changed and been redefined several times over time

One Shines Brighter by Red Moon Architect (lyrics are in the description)

[adams-rockstar]

Amanda’s Missing Piece: A Saw Fanfiction

Chapter 6: Rescue

Days passed, since Adam’s...and Lawrence’s game had taken place.

Days of wondering…..wondering just how long John would let him sit in there, wondering if he actually intended to let Adam just rot away, succumbing to either starvation or blood loss or some infection from his shoulder wound….and days of waking up in a cold sweat over the nightmares it brought her.

Amanda sat upright in her bed, catching her breath from the latest one, and pulled down at the sleeves of her shirt as she felt the late night chill of her apartment against her skin. A chill that could normally be dealt with by simply turning the heat on, or putting a sweatshirt or hoodie on to go back to sleep….but instead, only served to remind her of how cold Adam must be feeling, all alone in that shitty little bathroom.

She whimpered to herself as she tried to shake the thoughts from her head, as she normally did whenever these kind of thoughts came back to haunt her…..only this time, she’d had enough.

She’d finally decided that she really didn’t care about the rules of this little “game” after all, nor did she care anymore about the possibility of getting caught or what John might say if he found out she’d let her emotions get the best of her.

All she cared about was that she was getting Adam Faulkner-Stanheight out of that bathroom alive, no matter the cost.

She, very swiftly, swung her legs down off of the bed, got herself up and put on the first outfit she could throw together, just before heading out to gather some things to aid in her quest to save Adam and leaving for that Godforsaken old warehouse.

She swung by her kitchen, intending to grab something that might suffice as a little late night road breakfast for the drive over there, when her fridge’s contents reminded her of a thought that had come back to haunt her earlier…….Adam had to be starving by now, and she just knew that if she took something for herself, the guilt would absolutely eat her alive…..even more than it already was, if she couldn’t even be bothered to bring so much as a bite of something for him when he hadn’t eaten in days.

She glanced over its contents once more, after grabbing something for herself, and decided to heat up a sandwich half she’ d put in there the other day and packed it away in a separate bag before heading out the door.

When she got out to her car, she tossed most of her stuff in the back and grabbed up a blanket to place in the passenger seat, on the likelihood that Adam would want something warm to wrap himself up in…...and it was that thought that made her pause and think for a second.

She sighed to herself.

A warm lunch, and a blanket in the passenger seat…

She couldn’t help but start to feel as if she were about to go pick up some poor stray dog, who had been dumped out in the cold, rather than a human being who had been left for dead in conditions that most people would think better of leaving an animal in.

She shook her head to herself, trying to shake the thought…

But that was just it though.

She was doing this because that was no way for anyone to die, least of all someone as sweet and kindhearted as she’d taken him to be, that day in the stairway.

She sighed again, slamming the passenger door shut and going back around to settle herself into the driver’s seat and start the car up.

When she arrived at the warehouse, she brought in with her a small bag, taking a quick yet careful check to make sure she really was as alone as she felt like.

John often spent late nights here, especially when he was setting up future games, and even more so, now that he was also using it to watch over and tend to Lawrence, who had been lucky enough to escape the game with little more than a cut off foot.

She scoffed at the thought, as she brushed it off, trying not to think too hard on, were Lawrence’s circumstances reversed, would he still help him over Adam, given that he was a doctor who could easily aide in John’s future endeavors.

Cause, as far as she was concerned, Adam had rightfully won his game too.

She just shrugged, deciding that if she mulled any of this over for too much longer, she and her plan very well might be in danger of being discovered.

She began to trudge her way down that long, dark, all too familiar corridor.

She stopped in front of that big sliding door, which led into the bathroom, and took some tools out of her bag to begin fiddling with its lock…..a feat, which only took just a little more time than cracking Adam’s shitty apartment lock had.

She heaved the big sliding door to the side, and took a flashlight out from her bag to shine through the pitch darkness, taking baby steps as she crept in there….secretly terrified at what she might find.

It took her only another moment of moving the flashlights beam around the back wall to find Adam’s limp, seemingly lifeless body, as it rested back against said wall.

Oh God….

Was she too late?

No….

...She was, wasn’t she?

She brought a hand to her face, covering muffled whimpers as she slowly and carefully approached him, kneeling down on that cold, bathroom floor, to his level.

Whether he was still alive somehow, or not, it pained her to see how weak and frail and subdued he clearly was, compared to the bright, sarcastic, comedically witty nature she’d come to adore from her monitor on that ill-fated day.

“Adam….Adam.” She whispered, her voice trembling and desperate.

She gently, and even more carefully, placed a hand just underneath his nostrils, to check if it felt like he was still breathing.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when she was met with, not only the slow exhale that could’ve told her by itself what she needed to know, but a very weak yet deliberate turn of his head, as his eyes struggled...and failed to open much more than a centimeter.

He somehow mustered up a bit of a half smile, as his even weaker, frailer voice struggled to speak up.

“R-rockstar…” He finally managed.

She bursted out with a nervous, yet also somewhat relieved chuckle at the comment, unable to decide if he actually still had just enough energy to actually recognize who she was, or if his clearly delirious state just mistook her obvious bed head hair for how he’d seen it that day he complimented it in the stairway.

“Yeah...yeah, buddy. It’s me.” She assured him anyway, reaching to stroke her hand, gently, through that short black hair of his, and down the back of his head til she was just as gently caressing his chin as she continued to whisper to him. “I’m gonna get you out of here, okay?”

He just responded with a soft groan, unable to really make anything of what she was saying or doing, let alone care about what had brought her here in the first place.

All he knew was that the heaviness of his eyelids was getting the best of him, and he just let his eyes close again, as Amanda caught his head, just in time to stop it from hitting the wall behind it too hard.

She wiped a tear from her cheek and turned to search her bag again, until she found the next tool she intended to try her hand at using.

She pulled a long wire hanger from it, which was almost perfectly straightened except for a small curve at the bottom of it, which she hoped just might be good enough to fish the tub’s drain for that shackle key that Adam had clearly lost down it, in his panicked awakening.

“Come on, come on….” She whispered, desperately, to herself as she lowered the hanger down, further and further into the drain.

She began to whimper softly to herself, as she pulled and maneuvered it from side to side. “Oh, come on!”

She was practically to the point of crying, when suddenly she heard a soft clink, like she had finally caught something.

“Oh, please, please, please!” She pleaded to herself, carefully lifting the long wire back up and out of the scummy drain. “PLEASE…”

She finally lifted it back out and, beneath the hair and grime that it had also picked up, there was the key.

She practically cried out in her relief , as she grabbed it from the hook she’d curved into the wire, and began cleaning it off before she tried it in the keyhole.

She then grabbed for her flashlight again, to better see where Adam’s shackled foot was, and gently lifted it up and across her lap, to more easily unlock it, causing to start stirring again, but only slightly.

“It’s okay, Adam.” She whispered, gently. “I’m just gonna get this out of the way for you, and then I’m gonna get you home, okay? Home?”

“Home?” He echoed weakly back to her.

She could just about feel her heart sink, as he repeated it.

His voice sounded so weak, and helpless, that if he did actually understand what she meant by that, she doubted if he even believed it at this point.

I mean, why should he?

The sadness it brought with it, and even more so as he seemed to be struggling again to keep his eyes open, distraction from the fact that she had no explanation prepared for how she knew how to get him back home, nor for how the “very rockstar” looking girl he met in the stairway a few days ago even knew he was being held here.

“Yeah, Buddy. Home….” She placed the key in and turned it til the shackle clanked open, finally freeing him. “Theeere we go.”

His head perked up at the sound of the metal shackle hitting the floor, and his voice quivered as he looked down at it, and then back up at her, as he pulled his leg back.

He managed to scoot away a couple inches, and the manner in which he did just reminded her of the poor, frightened puppy she’d felt like she was setting out into the night for earlier, skinny and petrified of human contact.

“Adam, shh, shh! It’s okay.” She cooed, crawling over to his side. “I’m here to help you, give me your arm.”

Too weak to keep putting up much of a fight, he just hesitantly allowed her to proceed, with little more than a whimper.

“I know, I- ”

But, in the darkness, she was unable to see that she had accidentally grabbed hold of his wounded shoulder, til he let out a pained yet hoarse cry as she tried to help him up.

“Shit! Sorry! I’m sorry!” She panicked, scurrying over to his other side. “Here, it’s okay, we’ll just try this again. Okay?”

He just whimpered again.

“I know, I know..” She cooed softly to him. “It’s okay, I got you.” She very carefully took his arm and wrapped it around her shoulders and gently grabbed his hand to hold it in place, placing her other hand around his waist to better support him.

“On second thought, we should probably get you to a hospital first.”

Hospital.

For whatever reason, that word triggered something to get the gears in his brain working again, somewhat.

“Hos- ” He started to repeat back, in that same whisper. “Lawrence…” He whimpered. “He- ”

“...He’s okay. He’s fine, he got out.” She started to gently try and stand him up on his feet, as she continued to coax him. “Come on, you gotta try and help me out here, can you stand?”

He just groaned softly again and quietly obeyed.

“There, that’s it. Now can you walk?”

He just glanced around, tired and still in a delirious confusion, as if he too were surprised that he was standing, but eventually allowed Amanda to start guiding him out of the room, and down the long corridor to try and get him to her car.

When they finally reached the car, Amanda glanced around the area again to check their surroundings, as she guided Adam over to the passenger side and helped him in.

Almost as soon as she’d gently released him, he basically collapsed into the seat, as if at least a part of him was becoming aware that he could finally start to relax now.

She smiled slightly at him, draping the blanket over his cold, pale body, which he just about as quickly clung tightly onto, as he shivered, like an exhausted child who was simply getting ready for a car trip home after a long day.

Just as the word hospital had triggered something in Adam’s mind to concern himself with what had happened to Lawrence, however, the slamming shut of Amanda’s passenger door behind her, as she turned to walk around to the driver’s side, seemed to trigger an adrenaline induced state of panic for him as he tried to figure out where he was and what was happening.

Shortly after, Amanda opened up her door and saw him frantically looking around.

“Oh, good. You’re awake.” She breathed a sigh of relief.

Even if he was scared out of his mind, it was certainly a more welcome and slightly comforting response, compared to the limp, near lifeless shell of the man she’d met, he was only a few minutes ago. At least this she was sure she could calm him down from.

She started to reach past him for the sandwich bag she’d set on the floor earlier.

“I brought you some- ”

“BACK OFF!!” He warned, with the same panicked tone he’d reacted to her with, when she had been in his apartment to take him, as he frantically searched his surroundings for something he could use for a weapon.

“Adam, just calm down, okay?” She tried to reassure him, to no avail.

“CALM DOWN?! I’M NOT GONNA CALM DOWN, WHAT’S GOING ON? HOW DO YOU KNOW MY NAME?!”

Admittedly, he did have her, on that one.

She was sure he’d recall meeting her on that stairway a few days ago, especially since, even in his state of total delirium and exhaustion, he’d called her by that Rockstar compliment….but he hadn’t given her a name…...so, now she had to hope with everything that she had that she could just claim that he had and he’d believe i without much of a second thought.

He HAS to, right? That’s way too small of a detail for him to laser in on, especially with everything else on his plate.

Right? RIGHT?

She put her hands out in front of her to try and calm him down

“My name is Amanda….” She explained calmly, reaching down into one of her pockets for that flyer he’d given her for his buddy’s band. “We met on the staircase a few days ago…..” She handed it to him. “...remember?”

He took another look at her, as if he were only just, in that second, recognizing her, as he took the flyer.

“Rockstar….” A little grin began to light up his face. “...how could I forget?”

“Well, you were pretty out of it, to be fair.”

“I was- ” He took another look around. “How long was I out?”

“A while…” She tried to make it sound like she was guesstimating. “I’d say at least a day, probably two…”

“Probably t- ” He had a new twinge of sadness in his tone, as he said that. One that made her decide against coming up with some convoluted explanation of how she could’ve possibly known to find him and where, and to just tell him that Lawrence sent her after him, after he’d gotten out.

Adam had already been through enough, these past several days, he didn’t need to know the depths of why Lawrence hadn’t come back, let alone that he’d never intended to.

No...he didn’t need that on his mind too.

“Alright, well how’d you know where to find- ” He stopped mid sentence, as he caught the sweet and savory whiff of something in the air around him.

“..and what smells so good?”

She smiled, reaching again for the paper bag that contained the roast beef sub sandwich half, that was now probably room temperature, if not cold again, that she’d snagged from her fridge for him.

“...thought you might be hungry.” She handed it to him, still trying to downplay what she knew of his situation.

“Ohh, you have no idea.” He muttered excitedly, wolfing it down just about faster than he could chew it.

Her smile faded slightly, as she watched him look around a bit more, as if he were trying to feel out if she might have anything else for him, and she felt her own twinge of sadness upon that realization of how desperate he had to be, to have this reaction…….and how easily John and Lawrence could’ve just left him there, without an honest second thought of coming back for him.

“Tell you what…” She finally suggested to him, before he could say anything else.

He looked back up at her with anticipation.

“What do you say, we go get you...and that..” She nodded toward his wounded, bloodied shoulder. “...checked out, and then I’ll buy you another one…” She stopped to correct herself. “....as many as you want, actually.”

He looked at her curiously, wincing soon after, as his adrenaline starting to wear off was bringing more attention to his wound, then looked wide eyed at it. “Oh, FUCK!”

“Yeah…” She sighed. “Not to mention you could barely even walk to my car, as it is. I don't want you fainting in it.”

“Yeah, fair enough.” He chuckled nervously, his voice going a little more quiet again, when he spoke. “....alright.”

She nodded.

A little smile crept across his face, as he watched her start up the car.

It wouldn’t have mattered to him in the slightest if he knew that, today, her rockstar hair was actually I just rolled out of bed to save your ass hair…...he adored it, and her either way.

“......What?” She finally asked, having caught him looking at her again.

“Nothing…” He lied, with that little smirk she couldn’t help but adore. “Just…..thanks.”

She smiled back at him, sensing there was more behind that smirk, but letting him take the win anyway. “You’re welcome, Adam.”

He smiled back again, pulling the blanket back over him.

[littlewitchcurry]

Dog T shirts Rescue Dogs And Drink Wine Hoodies Sweatshirts TH

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Drifters ch.11 (spicyhoney)

Summary:  Final update! There's confessions to be had and choices to be made.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Violence, Rescued Child, Medical Experimentation, Babybones

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

Now that his brother seemed to have made his point, with the harsh brutality that always came with his moments of pure honesty, he was in rare form. With a last pat on Edge’s skull, Red hopped briskly off the sofa and reached out again for the child. “hand over the kiddo, then go put some clothes on. little hard to chat in this weather with the wind blowin' up your skirt.”

It wasn’t exactly getting easier to hand the child over, but at least Edge was less reluctant to do so. The child didn’t seem to notice or mind being passed around like a side dish at the dinner table and he left her sleeping peacefully in his brother’s arms as he went upstairs to dress. His own clothes had yet to be washed and still stank of the twisted, burnt electronics from the lab. He had no choice but to borrow from Stretch’s laundry pile again, sweatpants that bagged at his ankles and a bright orange sweatshirt with the dark outline of a ribcage printed on it. A caution sniff revealed nothing, but the scent of laundry detergent and he dressed quickly, leaving the banana-speckled robe in the pile with his own clothes. If this went well, he could wash them later and if it didn’t, well, he’d end up washing them anyway, if only to be able to wear his own trousers again.

His half-hearted hope that Stretch would have come back in by now was dashed as he came back downstairs. To his surprise, the child was already awake and Red was on the floor with her, zipping up the front of a tiny snowsuit striped in pale blue and white.

“here ya go,” Red said, scooping her back up and holding her out for Edge to take. There were long floppy ears attached to the hood like those on a puppy, ruffed with soft fur. Edge looked at his brother, who shrugged. “don’t ask me, it was with the stuff the dogs dropped off.”

Edge took the baby, balancing her on his hip. The extra layer of padding did make her easier to hold. “After all that about helping me with her, you can’t watch her while I do this?”

“sure i could, but i figure she’s a good buffer.”

Possibly, or simply a reminder to Stretch of exactly what they were arguing about. “You don’t even know where he’s gone.”

“sure i do,” Red offered him a negligent shrug. “he went around the back of the house to smoke. shortcutted the second he went out the door.”

Edge still hung back and it was not out of reluctance, thank you, he simply wanted to have a proper plan in place before taking the child out into the cold. “He could have shortcutted from inside the house if he was going there.”

Red let out a loud snort, crawling back on the sofa and sprawling out. “and miss out on his grand exit? nah.” He laced his hands over his middle and closed his sockets, perfectly ready to nap as if he hadn’t a care in this world or any other, the little bastard. “now quit being a pussy and get out there before the dumb fucker freezes to death out of spite.”

There was a great deal Edge would have liked to say to that and might have if the little ears eagerly listening hadn’t already gotten plenty of profanity fodder for the day. He shut his mouth with a click and, baby in arms, headed out into the cold.

Just as Red predicted, Stretch was standing in the cleared area at the back of the house, his concession to how much his brother disliked smoking. His back was to the pathway and as Edge watched, he flicked the last bit of ash from the butt in his hand, crouching to extinguish it in the snow before dropping it into the rusty coffee can tucked up under the house eaves.

There was an unfamiliar slump to his shoulders and an unexpected urge came to Edge to soothe it away, but how could he, knowing that he likely caused it. Stretch told him from the beginning not to slap away a helping hand and he was afraid he’d struck a much harder blow than that. His brother certainly seemed to think so and now it was to him to heal it, if he could.

Edge didn’t disguise the revealing crunch of snow from his footsteps, but Stretch didn’t turn around. He shook out another cigarette, poking it between his teeth. “you two don’t need to be out here, i’ll come inside in a mo’.”

Edge stopped, holding the baby who was beginning to squirm in his arms. “I came out to talk to you.”

It was starting to snow, heavy flakes falling and dusting across Stretch’s shoulders. Stretch still didn’t look at him, his gaze was on the woods, on the side of the house, flicking anywhere but towards him. “like i said, i’ll be back in a minute.”

“This can’t wait.”

With the sharp rasp of a lighter, Stretch deliberately lit the cigarette. The lighter clacked loudly as he closed it, his words blurred around the filter as he said, “the smoke isn’t great for her.”

It wasn’t good for Stretch, either, certainly not in that quantity, but Edge held that back. “Nonetheless, we’re staying.”

“guess you know best, don’t you.” But he took a few steps to the side, the cloud of his exhaled smoke blowing away from them into the wind.

It was becoming a challenge to hold the wriggling child and Edge crouched down to sit the baby in the snow, scooping up cold handfuls and packing it up behind her back as a brace. She looked up at the falling flakes wonderingly, her sockets wide, her pink mittened hands reaching skyward. Her first snowfall, he realized, surely a strange and wonderous thing to even so small a child.

Perhaps Stretch was thinking the same thing. He looked down at her with a little smile, but the faint softening on his face hardened almost as quickly, a certain blankness falling over it. He turned away, taking such a long drag on his cigarette that half of it turned to ash in that one breath. “so what was so important it couldn’t wait.”

The temperature was dropping with the upcoming storm and Edge tucked his chilly hands into the hoodie pocket as he searched for words. Finally, he said, “I think I hurt you earlier, with what I said.”

“yeah?” Stretch chuckled darkly. “you think so huh? well, let me take the maybe out of the equation. can’t say i’m surprised, you do make being an asshole a fine art.”

Usually Edge would have sniped back, piled on his own insults as recently as yesterday. Today was a new day and he only nodded slowly. He looked down at the child who was nearly bouncing in her excitement as snowflakes fell on her cheekbones and forehead, fluffy whiteness almost the exact color of her pale eye lights.

“I'm no good at this," Edge said abruptly.

That cool blankness softened a little, some warmth bleeding back into Stretch’s expression. He rolled his shoulders in an approximation of a shrug, the tiny snowdrifts gathering there cascading to the ground. “eh, don’t be so hard on yourself, you're getting better. look at the little snow princess, all bundled up in her gear.”

Edge chose not to mention that Red was the one who dressed her. "That isn't what I mean. I'm not good at any of this.” He took a deep breath and plowed ahead, “My brother thinks you want us to stay here permanently. Here, in your house, with the child."

Stretch snorted and dropped his cigarette butt to the ground, crushing it beneath his sneaker. “yeah? you think?"

"You didn't say anything."

“didn’t know i was supposed to. what was i supposed to say?” Stretch said, frustrated. “when was i supposed to say it? i could use some cues, edgelord, i can read anyone’s expression at twenty paces, except you, i can never figure out what’s going on in that skull of yours.” He chuckled tiredly, rubbing the bridge of his nasal cavity as if his head ached. “maybe it’s too much like mine.”

“Then tell me what’s going on in your head,” Edge said, “What do you want?”

Stretch shook out another cigarette but didn’t light it, only turned it over and over in his fingers from tip to filter, watching it spin between his fingers. “you don’t wanna know what’s in my head.”

“I do.”

“Yeah?” He looked up then, briefly, his eye lights glittery and unreadable before he looked away, “you want me to tell you how i see you here all scared and struggling and lost, and it’s like a fucking dream come true for me?”

“What?” That was unexpected and Edge took a step back, shocked to his core. That was a confession he’d never considered, couldn’t quite believe he’d even heard it, not in Underswap, not from Stretch.

“no?” Stretch kept his gaze on his own hands, presumably so that he didn’t have to meet Edge’s shocked gaze. “didn’t want to hear that, did you. even better, what kind of manipulative asshole tells you all this when i know you don’t have many other options? you want to hear the really real truth? i want you here, dumbass. not just the kid, you.”

“Of course you do,” Edge agreed, perplexed. None of this was making any sort of sense. “we’ve been sleeping together for months, you’ve always allowed me to stay the night and now—"

“fuck, you really are thick.” Stretch groaned. He let his skull fall into his hands, his fingertips scraping against the hard bone. “i wanted you here to stay forever, not just the damn night!”

Perhaps he was as dumb as Stretch claimed, Edge thought, because he only stared at him in utter bewilderment. “What do you…?”

“i want you to stay!” Stretch shouted, the words carrying in the still, cold air. “i always wanted you to stay, but i played the game right, did it just how you wanted.” He shuddered, hands dropping from his skull as he wrapped his arms around himself, clenching fistfuls of his sweatshirt until the fabric strained in his grip. “didn’t get too attached, played the good fuckbuddy. just me, right, the lazy ashtray, undependable stretch, good for a lay and that’s about it. i could give you that if that was what you needed. and then you show up on my doorstep with a kid that looks just like you, all but begging me to help?” He shook his head and his visible despair made Edge’s soul throb in sympathetic harmony, “i can't do it anymore, okay? can’t pretend anymore. you may not want me, but you've got me, both of you. hook line and sinker.”

Edge could only stare at him, mouth open, gaping like a fool. “She doesn’t really look like me,” Edge said weakly. It wasn’t at all what he wanted to say, but other words refused to come, hovering just out of his mental grasp.

Stretch didn’t seem to have heard him. “you want me to beg? i can beg, i’ll do whatever it takes.” He dropped to his knees, reaching towards Edge, and seeing it hurt unexpectedly, the pureness of his desperation. “stay here, with us. all of you, we want you to stay, edge. you and the little snowflake and even red, package deal and all that shit. i want you here, in my bed, in my life, and i want to help you love that little sweetheart who didn’t ask to be created, much less anything else. i just…let me?” His voice cracked, but Stretch went on relentlessly through it, soft and shattered as he said, “maybe let me love you, too? just a little?”

That was the second person to mention love to him today, the same word with so different a meaning because Stretch wasn’t looking at the child; Stretch was looking at him, at Edge. He was supposed to be out here securing an agreement for help with the baby and instead, Edge was thinking of how Stretch looked when he cradled the little one gently in his arms. Thought of his laughter, loud and bright, and how hearing it always made his soul clench strangely in a painless spasm. He thought of how Stretch looked in his (their?) bed, not only flushed with pleasure, but sound asleep and as unpretty as he ever was, always with a limb draped over Edge as if to keep him within reach.

He thought of all of that in the space of a single moment and there was only one answer Edge could give.

“Yes,” Edge said simply.

Stretch stilled, his sockets going wide. Snow settled on his hectically flushed face along with disbelief, both warring with dawning hope. “yes. yes? you said yes, you...you really…”

Edge reached out to Stretch, pausing as he scrambled hastily to his feet, his sneakers sliding in the piling snow.

“don’t do this if you don’t mean it, i mean, really mean it.” Stretch reached out with trembling fingers to rest a hand over Edge’s sternum, pressing almost painfully hard. “right here, down in your soul. this isn’t about debts or fucking or anything like that, not anymore. you can’t give me everything i want and then take it back away from me, not this time.” His voice broke again, but this time it was held together with rising hope. “you can’t.”

“I mean it,” Edge said hoarsely.

“okay,” Stretch breathed out, closing his sockets, “okay, okay.” Edge didn’t know if he was reassuring himself or simply catching his breath and didn’t care. He stepped up to cup Stretch’s cold cheekbones in his warmer hands and kissed him, only a brief press of mouths before he drew back. And then his noise of surprise was muffled between them as Stretch surged forward and kissed him back fervently, and his teeth might be cold, but his mouth was hot, desperately eager as he poured all the emotions he’d bared directly into that kiss.

A happy squeal interrupted them and Stretch reluctantly withdrew, dropping down to kneel carelessly in the snow again, this time in front of the baby. She reached for him enthusiastically and he chuckled, scooping her up to cuddle her close.

“what, you want one too, snowflake?” he teased, and her babbling turned into a shriek as he buzzed a loud kiss against her cheekbone. “you’re about as cold as a snowflake, too, time to get back inside.”

Stretch held out a hand to Edge, palm up, and he took it. The three of them walked along the short path around the house together.

They were nearly to the porch when Edge said, “You always call her that."

“huh?” Stretch paused in his efforts to make ridiculous faces at the child, “what do i what?”

“Snowflake, snow princess,” Edge said, thoughtfully, “You always call her that.”

“guess so,” Stretch didn’t seem particularly bothered by his penchant for nicknames. “i dunno, i call people lots of things. she’s got those big ol’ white eye lights, the way they sparkle always makes me think of snowflakes in the morning, you know?”

He did. A rare thing of beauty even in Underfell. “All right, then.” Edge reached for the baby and Stretch handed her over willingly enough. Edge held her up, rubbing his nasal aperture against hers while she giggled happily, her mittened hands resting on top of his skull. Fat flakes were falling around them, dotting her chubby cheeks and forehead, and Stretch was right, they did look like her eye lights. That settled it for him and he announced, “Her name is Snow.”

Stretch had been watching them, smiling and now he blinked, tipping his head to one side. “snow?” Stretch said, considering. “huh. i like that.” He jerked his chin towards the door. “now let’s go inside before she lives up to it. c’mon, it’s cold.”

“We still need to work out a strategy,” Edge said, following behind him. “I’ll need to get a job to begin with and—"

“yeah, i know, i know, gotta have a plan.” Stretch stopped again, leaning in to press a kiss to Edge’s mouth and another to Snow’s little cheek, making them both smile. The weather might be cold but his soul was warm, fluttering in his chest and it only pulsed harder when Stretch took Edge’s free hand again, walking backwards as he tugged them both along. “can it wait until after lunch?”

“Yes,” Edge agreed, “after lunch.” They’d waited this long for their lives to come together, they could wait a little longer. Edge held Stretch’s hand in his own, their child snuggled in between them, and followed him back home.

-finis-

[narukoibito]

charity work

Wow, so I wrote a published a thing after 10+ years away from fanfiction. Please check it out if you’re so inclined!

Summary: He'd only meant it as a joke, but here she was. Ginny Weasley, his celebrity crush, armed with economy toilet paper rolls and three dozen eggs, ready to commit a misdemeanor all in the name of charity. Muggle AU Harry/Ginny

Tumblr prompt: "You're famous and I jokingly left a comment on your social media post asking if you'll go egg my ex-partner's house with me this weekend, and I never actually expected you to respond, let alone show up Friday night with dark sweatshirts, toilet paper rolls, and three egg cartons tucked under your arm" & hp_fangal's version where Harry is the famous one, Shooting for the Stars.

FF.net | AO3

Harry flopped onto the couch with a loud sigh, letting his bag slide carelessly to the ground. Sirius popped his head out from the kitchen.

“You alright there, Harry?”

“I’m fine,” he mumbled from his dejected position.

Sirius raised an eyebrow and turned to Hermione, who lifted her head up from her book for a moment to give Harry a disapproving look.

“He’s been brooding all week,” she announced.

“Cho?” he asked knowingly.

“He hasn’t said, but…Cho,” Hermione nodded.

Harry made a rude gesture at his childhood best friend and godfather, who sniffed disdainfully and chortled respectively.

Yes, it was indeed his girlfriend — sorry, ex-girlfriend — who was once again souring his mood, but Sirius and Hermione didn’t know yet. He hadn’t had the heart to tell them that he’d caught her cheating on him with none other than Cedric Diggory. Not only had Cedric taken Harry’s position as a starter on the school team when Harry tore his ACL several months back, but then the recruiters who had originally come to see Harry had taken a shine to Cedric, and now several teams were making him offers. Hermione and Sirius had been going on for months about how Cho wasn’t being particularly supportive during Harry’s recovery period, but Harry had waved them off. Turns out they were more right than he could have imagined, and he simply could do without the knowing and pitying looks.

“This’ll cheer you up,” Sirius said, walking over to the wireless.

“I think something’s burning,” Harry grumbled as Sirius flicked through several stations. Sirius let out a yelp and jumped back to the kitchen, but not without first finding what he was looking for.

“Now tell me, Miss Weasley,” an unctuous female voice crowed, “about your victories off the pitch.”

Despite himself, Harry perked up. Ginny Weasley was his favorite football starter since she made a huge splash going pro at the young age of sixteen — and immediately proved her worth by leading her team to victory at her first game. He may or may not have several posters of her hanging in his closet.

“Oh you heard that I cook the meanest eggplant dish on the team?” Ginny’s sweet voice lilted over the wireless. When Harry laughed, Hermione peered at him over her book again, amused.

“That’s a very…lovely quality, my dear, but no, my avid listeners want to know all about your tumultuous love life. We all know how much you enjoy playing the field…”

Harry let out an ungraceful snort.

“I did always like playing with balls, yes,” Ginny quipped. “I’m pretty good at kicking them, so they say.”

The reporter cleared her throat loudly. “Too true. I believe one of your past paramours was reportedly found writhing on the floor when you parted ways.”

“Oh no, that was simply a handsy fan who didn’t seem to understand the meaning of ‘no,’” Ginny corrected her dryly.

“Your latest lover, Puddlemere team’s Michael Corner, and you seem to have had a bit of a nasty split,” the reporter’s voice oozed with false sympathy. “The photos of him and his assistant, Lavender Brown, in a passionate embrace —”

“You mean snogging in the dark corner of a bar?”

“Oh this must be so difficult for you,” the reporter sniffed. “You seem to have such trouble holding onto a man — they seem to prefer more feminine women over your company! Tell me, does it have to do with your being raised with six older brothers? Perhaps the rowdiness of such a boisterous family environment was not conducive for healthy relationships with men?”

Harry threw a stray cushion at the wireless, but from his horizontal position, he missed.

“Miss Skeeter, I’m not sure how my upbringing has anything to do with my boyfriends deciding to be cheating gits rather than about being forthcoming about their feelings.”

“Of course, dear. Please, tell our listeners as such a seasoned veteran, how you cope with heartbreak, especially when you uncover such deceit?”

“I’m a big fan of karma. People tend to find that what comes around goes around.”

“So mature of you.”

“And if they wake up with their house egged and teepeed, let’s hope they realize the error of their ways.”

Harry could picture Ginny’s trademark mischievous smile, and he felt his own lips curling up.

“Surely, Miss Weasley, you aren’t condoning such a crime?”

“All hypothetical, Miss Skeeter. But who am I to complain if the universe takes it upon itself to serve justice? Having grown up with my brothers, I find that anything is possible if you have enough nerve.”

As the interview wound to an end, Harry felt inexplicably lighter. He even managed to shift himself to a sitting position and found himself scrolling through Ginny Weasley’s public Instagram profile. He was momentarily distracted by a recent posting of her sticking her tongue out at the camera while cuddling with a kitten, where she alerted her fans to tune into her upcoming interview with the radio host of Me, Myself, and I.

He punched in a simple message in the comments: Caught my girlfriend snogging my replacement on my uni’s football team while I was supposed to be convalescing, and now I want to help push karma along the way this Friday. Care to lend a hand?

“You’re looking better,” Sirius observed, popping his head back into the living room.

Harry tossed his phone to the side and smiled. “Is dinner even edible anymore?”

During dinner (extra “crispy” chicken Sirius calls it, mashed potatoes, and vegetables), Harry finally caved in and told Sirius and Hermione what happened. They were so outraged on his behalf, it actually dulled his own anger enough for him to admit he was difficult to be around while he recovered, and he was probably not the best boyfriend at the time. They wouldn’t hear any of it though.

After Hermione headed home and Sirius to his study, Harry receded to his room where he took a moment to appreciate his hidden poster. Then he headed to the shower, where he may or may not have decided to relax by picturing a particularly sassy redhead. When his head hit his pillow, he immediately drifted off to a pleasant, dreamless sleep.

--

Harry let out a big yawn as he rose from his last class of the day. He paused to stretch out his right leg, which had a tendency of getting stiff after sitting too long post-surgery.

As his classmates trickled out, he whipped out his phone, already pondering where to grab take-out for his solo night in since Sirius was planning an evening out (don’t expect me home tonight). A red notification blared out at him, which was odd considering his rare use and minuscule follower-ship on Instagram. He clicked on it, wondering if someone commented on his recent post of Sirius with a big, black shaggy dog.

It was a message from…

The phone nearly slipped out of his hand.

Ginny Weasley? Bringing the phone closer to his face, he stared at the message beside her smirking profile picture.

I’m in. When and where?

Harry scrubbed a hand over his face. Was he dreaming? His celebrity crush since he was seventeen, the one he had just wanked to two days ago (and countless times over the years), wanted to help him egg and teepee his ex’s place?

After a moment’s hesitation, he began punching in the details of the closest station to Cho’s.

Meet around 10?

His thumb hovered over the send button. What did he have to lose? He pressed down. He swallowed hard as three hovering dots appeared.

See you soon.

“Fuck,” Harry said aloud to an empty classroom.

--

Harry couldn’t believe this was happening. Maybe someone had hacked into her account and was just having a lark. Maybe he was going to be mugged on arrival.

“Yes, that must be it,” he assured himself as he ascended the stairs to the front of the station.

“Are you H-P-Lightening?”

Harry looked around and nearly tripped over the last step. For a second, he thought he might have been right about being mugged, given the hooded figure that appeared on his right. But the figure pushed back her hood, and fiery gold-and-red hair spilling out like a curtain.

It was her. Ginny Weasley.

Standing in front of him in an oversized hoodie, a bag of toilet paper (economy size, she didn’t skimp), and several cartons of eggs. Her brown eyes glinted with mischief, and her lips were curled up in her devil-may-care smirk. She was close enough that he could not only make out the splattering of attractive freckles across her face, but he could catch what seemed to be the sweet smell of flowers.

“Er —” was all Harry could manage.

She arched an eyebrow. “You’re not him?”

“No — I mean, yes, I am. That’s me. Harry Potter.”

Her smile brightly. “Nice to meet you, Harry.”

“Yeah, nice,” he said stupidly. “I’m a huge fan. I didn’t think, er, I never thought —”

“I seem to be a terrible influence,” Ginny laughed, and the way it made her nose crinkle sent shivers down Harry’s spine. “Since I put the idea in your head, the least I could do was help out and prevent you from getting caught.”

“Do you always rescue brokenhearted blokes on your public profile?”

“Only the really particularly pathetic ones,” she grinned back. “My publicist is always encouraging me to take on more charity work.”

“Smart,” Harry nodded sagely. “It’s good to engage with the people from time to time. Humanize you.”

She was laughing again, and he felt ridiculously chuffed that he was making Ginny Weasley of all people laugh. It did loads for his self-esteem considering Cho was always either bemused or offended by his snarky remarks.

“Exactly,” she said, holding out an extra hoodie for him. He thanked her and pulled it over this head, reminding himself that he shouldn’t be so pleased that they were matching. As he took some of the supplies from her, and they began walking, she continued, “I don’t know, your comment kind of stuck out to me.”

He glanced at her when she seemed to hesitate and was surprised when she quickly looked away, a bit of color on her cheeks.

“And the fact that you didn’t give off any stalker murder vibes was a plus.”

He laughed. “But really, thank you,” Harry said. “I was, er, brooding, as my friends and family like to call it because of Cho, and your interview cheered me up — the way you didn’t let that awful reporter get under your skin was truly something else.”

“Ah yes, Rita Skeeter,” Ginny smiled stonily. “Should have known better than to bet against my twin brothers.”

“Bet?”

She shrugged. “I didn’t believe them when they said Michael, my now notorious ex, was shifty. Swore it wasn’t true, and they bet I’d have to go on Skeeter’s show if I was wrong. They constantly goad me about my poor judgment in men, which was really what got me riled up enough to take them on. Then a week later, I caught Michael doing some yoga with his new assistant. ‘Course they tried really hard to explain why they were working on her downward dog naked.”

Harry grimaced. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she said airily. “He was a prat. If he’d just broken up with me like a decent human being, I wouldn’t have had to deal with all the latest tabloids. Besides,” she glanced at him curiously, “seems like I wasn’t the only one who’s had some bad luck with romance lately.”

“Ah yes, my tale of woe. I caught my ex snogging the guy who took my starter position after I tore my ACL. All around the time when there were recruiters coming around. Her timing and choice couldn’t have been better.”  

“I’m sorry,” she said, her hand touching his arm. He felt heat shoot through him.

“Ah, it’s not really fun hanging around a depressed sod.” One side of his mouth twisted up with a touch of bitterness. “She didn’t much enjoy my moods.”

Ginny snorted. “Right, because what mattered then was her having fun.”

Harry shrugged. Aside from some awkward, fumbling, and a bit sloppy kisses, he wasn’t really sure how much fun Cho seemed to have around him. She’d always been trying to get him to talk about his feelings, like about his parents or how terrible he felt about his injury or the lost his dream opportunity to go pro. Her insistence often made him clam up or shut down.

Ginny started asking him questions about his uni and his team, and soon they were chatting like old friends about football strategies and tactics, favorite moves, new players with potential. It was very possible he revealed just how well he knew her team’s stats, but if she noticed, she graciously doesn’t comment.

“Here we are,” he realized, skidding to a stop in front of a blue house. Ginny pulled him back behind a tree. He peered at her curiously, but she was scanning the quiet street and the house.

“Doesn’t seem like anyone is home,” she announced.

“There was a game today, with a party that tends to go pretty late.”

“Well isn’t that perfect?” She smiled at him as she pulled the hood back over her head, and he mirrored her motion.

With remarkable coordination and teamwork considering they didn’t speak a word but rather communicate with meaningful glances and stifled laughter, they began decorating the bushes, garden, porch, trees, and roof with toilet paper. Then they returned to the pavement with the egg cartons.

“Care to go first, Harry?” Ginny asked, a softness in her eyes despite her artful tossing and catching an egg with ease.

He picked up an egg and hesitated. The anger and betrayal churned through him, but there was a part of him that still wondered if maybe he should let it go.

“Hm, worried you’re unable to throw from here?” she asked casually, her eyes flashing with mischief.

Was that a challenge? She gave him an assessing glance before turning to the house.

“Maybe you don’t think you can hit that awful thing,” she said, pointing at a crow sticker attached to a window, grinning wickedly.

“Watch it, Weasley,” Harry said roughly. He wound his arm back and with impressive accuracy, hit the crow sticker on the window. “Hah!”

“Seemed a bit aggressive there,” she laughed.

“That thing always gave me the creeps,” he admitted sheepishly, remembering how the shadow of the crow seemed to follow him in that room. “Now then, you may be a great starter, but what about your arm aim?”

Her egg splattered noisily right at the center of the door.

“If we only conditioned our legs, we’d be pretty lopsided.”

He laughed as they continued to goad each other with more and more difficult places. But soon, they began to throw with more ferocity, each seeming to exorcise some past demons.

His egg cracked against the porch stair where she first kissed him in the rain.

“I wish she had never kissed me.”

Her egg smashed against a different window.

“I wish I had broken things off when he kept pestering me about wearing more dresses.”

Another cracked against the roof.

“Wish I hadn’t pushed myself too far for those stupid recruiters!”

One landed against the door handle.

“What does my love life have to do with how I play, Skeeter?”

As they went through the eggs, they spouted all the things wrong with their previous relationships before moving to other frustrations until all three cartons of eggs were empty, and the house was a comically gooey, papered mess.

Harry dragged a hand through his tousled hair, dazed by how much better he felt. He met Ginny’s eye and warmed at the sight of her flushed cheeks and pleased smile. She reached out and took his hand, and without a word, he let her draw him away, leaving the tangled mess of feelings about Cho and his doomed football career behind. Her hand in his felt like the only real thing in the world.

They walked together, hand-in-hand, in comfortable silence back to the station. As they drew closer, he grew nervous and turned to face her.

“Thank you, Ginny,” he blurted earnestly.

“You’re welcome. It was really fun,” she said. She seemed to hesitate for the first time the entire evening, looking over his shoulder.

Panic shot through him — was this it? Would he ever see her again?

“Actually,” she said slowly, “I rode here. I could give you a lift if you like, instead of taking the train.”

“Rode?” He echoed, turning to follow her gaze. His mouth dropped open. There, parked surreptitiously, was a gleaming motorcycle. “Bloody hell, Sirius will love you.”

“Sirius?”

“Um, my godfather. He’s got a thing for motorcycles. Treats his like it’s a national treasure,” he explained, blushing. “I’ve been riding them since he took me in.”

Something shifted in her eyes, but it was gone so quickly that he may have imagined it. Back was the shining amusement.

“Well then, I take it you’re not afraid of a bit of speed.” She wound around him towards her ride. She opened the storage unit and tossed him a helmet. “You’ve always got to make sure you have a nifty getaway vehicle.”

“See, this is why I enlisted an expert.”

He provided her his address, and after a quick search on her phone, she mentioned she was familiar with the area. It turned out he lived close to an old friend of hers, a Luna Lovegood, who was responsible for those quirky magazines about mythical creatures that Sirius always got a hoot out of and Hermione would turn her head disapprovingly from.

Helmet secure, Ginny hopped on and looked at him expectantly. He slipped on his helmet and sat behind her. He floundered, wondering where he should grip the seat.

“You better hold onto me.” Her voice was muffled in her helmet, but it sounded crystal clear to him. “Wouldn’t want the next headliner to be how I killed a man by not practicing safety.”

“Right — hardly a way to repay you.” He tentatively slid tantalizingly closer, wrapping his arms around her middle. God she was fit. “That, ah, safe enough?”

Ginny nodded jerkily. “Yep, that’s great.”

She lifted her left leg, kicked into gear, and soon they were roaring through the winding roads of London.

Harry loved to feel the wind whip around him and the familiar rumbling underneath him. It made him feel like he was flying. But damn Ginny wasn’t kidding when she liked it fast, and he found himself gripping her a little tighter than he had expected but enjoying every moment of it — the feel on her in his arms, the elevated rush of adrenaline due to her speed. Watching the buildings, streets, and vehicles go by in a blur of lights made the night feel magical.

All too soon, Ginny was pulling up in front of his home. He hastily pulled away, hoping that his graceless way of removing his helmet would disguise his blush. She made it seem so effortless when she pulled her helmet off and threw her head back, her hair cascading down her shoulders. They smiled at each other, not sure what to say, but he didn’t want the night to end. Harry couldn’t believe his luck, and maybe he shouldn’t push it, but when else was the universe going to wink in his direction?

“Would you like to come up?” He cringed. “I can make you a cup of tea, I mean — as a sincere thank you for being both my partner in crime and my savior.”

He braced himself for the rejection.

“Oh,” she said, sounding both surprised and breathless. “Yes. That sounds nice.”

Harry led her inside, nervously watching her glance around the cottage. “It belonged to my parents.”

“It’s lovely,” Ginny smiled, walking over to the mantle.

“It’s a good thing that Sirius isn’t home — he probably wouldn’t stop pestering us if he were.” He scrambled to tidy some of the papers and books on the coffee table.

“Is that him?” she asked, pointing to a photo of Sirius with a ten-year-old Harry in his arms. Harry was laughing really hard, his wire-frame glasses knocked askew, and Sirius’s attention was completely on Harry, a wide grin on his face and affection shining in his eyes. It was one of Harry’s favorite photos, but he wasn’t sure how he felt about Ginny seeing him when he was a bespectacled, scrawny boy.

“Yes,” he said, as she continued to gaze at the photo thoughtfully. “Er, kitchen?”

She let him lead her away. “Your home is a lot cleaner than my parents’ place. Though I suppose that isn’t too difficult to achieve. I have six older brothers and all.”

“Sounds nice. It’s just been Sirius and me, sometimes a dog — he can never resist a stray — and occasionally my pseudo uncle when he needs a place to crash.”

She pulled the dark hoodie over her head, and his breath hitched when her jumper lifted to reveal a sliver of pale, freckled skin. Harry hastily set about heating up the kettle, trying to remember his train of thought.

“Can’t imagine what it would have been like with so many more people.”

“Rowdy and loud,” she said, her affection in her voice obvious. “Never a dull moment.”

“Was it hard? Being the only girl.” He rummaged in the cupboard, praying that Sirius hadn’t eaten the last of the biscuits.

“Sometimes, but it taught me to be…inventive.”

“Sneaky you mean?”

“When I had to be. They insisted for the longest time that I couldn’t play football with them, so I snuck out at night and practiced myself.”

“You certainly showed them,” Harry laughed, emerging victorious with a tin of biscuits he’d baked with Hermione a few days prior — hers had come out a bit rockish despite following the recipe exactly, but his were decent. “Did you always want to play professionally?”

“Yes.” She thanked him when he placed a steaming cup in front of her, offering sugar and milk. “What about you?”

Yes was on the tip of his tongue, but for some reason he paused. “I love football. I started playing as a kid, first with kicking the ball around the yard with Sirius.”

“Were you any good?”

“Um, was the youngest starter in secondary. Was scouted for my uni’s team.”

She gave a low whistle of surprise. “A lot of promise, then.”

“Hardly compares to you,” he smiled.

“If you want, I can refer you to some of the best physical therapists. You can be back to where you were in less than a year.”

Harry stared at the steam from his cup as he nibbled on a chocolate biscuit. For some reason, the prospect didn’t seem to strike a chord.

Ginny tilted her head. “It’s just a thought.”

“Oh — um, thank you. That’s really generous,” he cringed at his word choice, “I just —”

“This thing with your ex will pass, Harry.”

“I know — I mean, it kind of already has.” He fell silent, not really sure exactly what he was trying to convey. “I was really upset earlier about the whole thing — Cho and my replacement going pro in my stead. But right now, I just feel….relief?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling foolish and confused, but Ginny sipped her tea and gave him time to sort himself out.

“I love football and always will, but don’t know if…if I was all that upset about the recruiters so much as — ” He faltered, not sure where he was going with this. She reached over and squeezed his arm encouragingly. “As disappointing Sirius.”

“Your godfather?” she asked softly.

Harry nodded jerkily. “Yes. He was best mates with my dad. Practically brothers.”

He went quiet again, lost in his thoughts.

“I don’t know Sirius, but the way he looks at you in those photos makes it hard for me to think anything you’d do could disappoint him, Harry,” she said, a fierce look on her face.

A lump formed in his throat, and he cleared it several times, feeling heat crawl up his neck.

“My dad was about to go pro when…” Harry swallowed hard, his voice thick. He reached over and took her hand in his, marveling at how small and smooth her skin was. “When he and my mum got in an accident. A drunk driver on Halloween.”

“I’m so sorry, Harry. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“No, I don’t mind,” he said and meant it. He was surprised considering he never talked about his parents, but with Ginny, it came so naturally. When she looked at him like that, he felt like he could tell her anything. “I suppose — I wanted to fulfill their dream — dad’s and Sirius’s.”

He stopped, taken aback by his admission. He glanced down at their joined hands as her thumb gently caressed his knuckle. Was that why he had been so upset lately? He and Cho had been on the outs even before his injury.

“Everyone always says how I look just like him. Except for my eyes. I’ve got my mum’s eyes.”

His heart pounded in his chest at the way her warm brown eyes stared up at his. “You’ve got the greenest eyes. They’re green as — ” She stopped, blushing.

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Green as?”

“Er — I’m blaming it on the relentless practice making me barmy, but I first thought green as a freshly pickled toad.”

They both burst out laughing, the mood lightening immediately. Ginny withdrew her hand to cover her face, which glowed like the setting sun. His hand felt strangely bereft without hers.

“So what is your dream?” “Erm — I don’t know,” he admitted. He thought hard about his hobbies outside of football. “I guess…maybe becoming a cop or detective? Solve crimes, help people.” “So you’re not usually the type to egg someone’s house?” she teased. “Ha! No, not exactly, but it was worth it.” Getting to meet you. “Though don’t get me wrong, I’m not above breaking rules. Had a bit of a reputation back in the day.”

She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “A troublemaker, are you?”

“Trouble usually finds me,” he grinned back.

They continued to talk late into the evening. Between all the banter, Harry found himself revealing a lot more of himself than he ever expected. Ginny, to his delight, seemed equally comfortable, even sharing a dark experience about a run-in with Tom Riddle, a wealthy and well-liked wealthy football team owner, which had Harry gripping his mug so tightly he nearly shattered it. But she carefully uncurled his fingers and her touch softened the edge of his anger. He never wanted to stop talking to her, getting to know her. Before they knew it, it was nearly three in the morning.

“It’s getting late,” she finally said, and he agreed reluctantly. They exchanged numbers and even took a photo together (would it be too creepy if he set it as his background?).

As he walked her outside, he wondered if it would be too strange or forward to offer his bed (he would obviously take the couch) or maybe call a cab so that she’d have to come back soon to pick up her motorcycle. He was jarred from his thoughts when he nearly walked into her.

“I had a wonderful night,” Harry said. “Best one in…I can’t even remember.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Do you think we can — do this again?”

“Have more exes who have done you dirty?”

He barked out a laugh. “Maybe not an ex, but I know a bully or two. Really, I’d love to see you again. You can even decide whether we commit another crime or not.”

Her lips quirked up. “Not sure that’ll help you become a cop, but yes, I’d really like that.”

They stared at each other, neither wanting to move away first. When the pressure in his chest grew unbearable, he shoved his hands into his pockets and began to turn and walk back towards his house.

“I guess I’d better… Goodnight, Ginny.”

Stupid berk, he fumed. So much for being brave.

“Harry?” she called out.

He turned around to see her running toward him, a hard, blazing look of determination in her face. She threw her arms around him as he opened his, automatically wrapping around her. And without thinking about his nerves, her fame, his crush that had blossomed into much, much more in only hours, he kissed her. There was nothing else, just Ginny, her lips sliding over his, her sweet-smelling hair in his hands, her body pressed against his. He never wanted it to end. After what felt like several sun-lit days, they broke apart.

He pressed his forehead against hers. “That was…”

“Yeah,” she said. “It was.”

They finally pulled away. He probably looked like a besotted fool with his mile-wide grin, but he couldn’t work himself up to care when Ginny was grinning up at him like that.

“So I’ll call you? Maybe — maybe we can get together tomorrow, er — I guess today?”

She bit down on her lower lip as her grin grew. She reached up and adjusted his skewed glasses. “Yeah, today.”

“A proper date,” Harry felt the need to say.

“I’ll let you woo me and everything,” Ginny chuckled.

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

But instead of moving away, they leaned in and kissed again. They’d go their separate ways…in due time.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

okay what do we need to do to get that Chris on campus with Jake thing to happen because we will do it

Okay it’s not the whole thing or anything (I can work on that actually if you want) but here’s like six oh whoops it turned into a bunch of paragraphs of cute off the top of my head:

CW: VERY vaguely referenced past noncon/exploitation/abuse, recovering pet whumpee, conditioned responses, referenced/implied that character is potentially underaged

“Why can’t I-… I want to wear my, my, um, my my sweatshirt today, why can’t I wear that?” Chris stares longingly, almost pleadingly, as Jake tosses the balled-up dirty thing in the washing machine, smiles to himself. Two-pointer, he thinks. Not that he’s played sports since junior year of high school or anything, but he didn’t exactly suck at basketball.

“It’s too warm for sweatshirts and you’ve been wearing it for four days straight, Chris,” Jake says, pulling some clothes out of the neatly folded piles of clean shirts and pants that stay on a series of shelves in the laundry room for the rescues to pick from. Most rescues take a couple of weeks to start choosing things to keep in their rooms - Chris has been here for three and all he wants to wear is Jake’s sweatshirt and basketball shorts they’d found in the back of one of the closets, something a past rescue had left behind when they moved out to start fresh. “This is nothing. Look, you’ll still be covered up, I promise.”

“I, I will? Do you promise?” Chris hugged himself, all wiry limbs with the same forced sense of lithe gracefulness all the Romantics ended up with after training. “I don’t like um, like my skin showing I don’t like there to be too much, too much skin, Jake.”

Or any skin, Jake thinks. If it was up to Chris, they’d never see anything but his eyes. He had a feeling whoever Sir was had had a thing for Chris’s hair, too, in the past three days Chris had started to talk about dyeing it black or redder or just another color entirely. He’d seen Jake looking at a photo of a girl with pierced ears and mentioned he might want earrings, too.

That was all going to be big steps - Jake figures he’ll talk about it for a few months before he can do anything on his own. 

“Yeah, I promise. You know the rules here, Chris, you don’t show a single inch of skin to anybody ever unless you feel comfortable.”

“I, I, I would feel comfortable showing to-… to you, Jake,” Chris says, a little shyly. If he turns around, he knows, Chris’s face will be red, just at the cheekbones, and he’ll be doing that thing they all do where they tilt their head just the right way, just a little to the side, biting down on their lower lips to show they’re interested.

It’s probably pretty fucking seductive, if you’re a piece of shit pervert who orders one of them. When you’ve seen six of them do it, nearly robotically, falling back into motions trained into their muscle memory deeper than thought, it’s just creepy as shit.

“I know you would, buddy,” Jake says, keeping his eyes on the clothing. “But remember, we have rules about that, here.”

“Yeah, I, I know, I like the, um, the, the rules. I like them.” Chris sounds relieved, as though he’d said the words worrying that Jake would take him up on it or something. And probably he was worried about it - Nat seemed to think he was testing them, without even knowing.

Jake checks over the smaller sizes and pulls out a pair of straight-leg jeans, nothing special but they won’t cling, they’ll sit loose on Chris’s hips and won’t say anything about the shape of his legs. He tosses them over along with a random pair of boxers, and the rescued Box Boy quickly sheds his pajama pants and switches over to the new things while Jake has his back turned looking for shirts. 

“Is, um, are, are are are people going to, to look at me a lot today? Or not? Are they going to look? Is, um, because what if my Sir sees a picture, if if he, if he-”

Your ‘Sir’ knows where you are. You were a dirty little secret and that motherfucker isn’t going to say a fucking thing.

Jake doesn’t say it. Instead, he just turns with the shirts in hand and gives Chris a comforting, reassuring smile. “No, man. Look, remember what we talked about?”

Chris nods, his eyes going wide and solemn, very serious about the things he’d been asked to memorize. “My name is Christopher Garner and I, I, um, I’m your father’s brother’s oldest son and I, I, I’m visiting from Michigan and that’s the name of a, um, of a state in the United States of America and that is where we live.”

“Great. Just… don’t start telling everybody everything all at once, okay? But it’s good that you remember all of it. First things first, let’s cover up your number okay?”

He hands Chris a long-sleeved shirt and the boy pulls it on over his head, the strawberry-blond pushing through the spot for the neck and fluffing out around his head, mussed up and standing on end. He looks fucking adorable, like a little kid.

Because he probably still IS one, and if anyone would tell me who that fucking Sir is I’d rip his throat out with my goddamn teeth like that lady in the third Honor Bound movie did. 

That was a movie series he couldn’t watch with the rescues. Too… close, in some ways, to shit some of them had already seen. But Jake had his own DVD copies he watched sometimes while studying or doing homework. 

Chris is frowning at the cuffs on the ends of his sleeves, examining them up close. His green eyes have gone slightly crossed. “Why’s there a hole?”

“For your thumbs. Let me show you.” Jake steps forward and carefully shifts the cloth around, slipping Chris’s thumb through the purposefully cut hole just below the cuff. “See? Now you don’t have to worry about it riding up and showing your barcode. Plus, it’s kind of a thing a lot of people are doing on campus, so you’ll fit in.”

“I’ll fit in?” Chris looks up at him - up and up and up, the kid is so short - and Jake smiles back down. “Will I? I’ll, um, I’ll fit in?”

“Well… mostly. You’ll fit right in as my cousin, right?” Jake grins down, rubbing lightly at his shoulders, and Chris smiles back with an expression of such absolute trust that it physically hurts to look at him.

Everything they went through made them all so fucking trusting, so naïve and so ready to accept any hint of goodness that came their way as genuine. It was like… like trying to teach a dog to be a person.

“Right,” Chris says firmly. “Cousin. Christopher Garner, who comes from, from, from Minnesota-”

“Michigan.”

“Right. Michigan.” Chris’s face fell, just a little. “I’m, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to to to um, to get it wrong-”

“You’re fine, Chris. We’ll practice on the bus on the way. Now, throw this one, too.” He hands him  thin zip-up hoodie, and Chris looks finally perfectly comfortable once he’s pulled the hood up and over his head. Every bit of skin he could reasonably cover is covered. Only his bangs stick out to show he had blond hair at all.

“It’s a long day for me, so we’re going to be on campus for a long time. I’ve got money for food and stuff, and listen-… Chris, this is important, very, very important that you remember this.”

Chris swallows, hard, and nods. He fixes his eyes on Jake with total focus. “Yes, Jake.”

“If you get hungry, or thirsty, or you have to use the bathroom, you absolutely have to tell me. Do you understand?”

Chris frowns, eyebrows furrowing. They’re the same pale copper as his hair, and sometimes in dim light it’s hard to tell he has any. “But we don’t decide if we’re hungry-”

“Yes, you do, Chris. Now, you do. With me, you get to decide when you eat food, okay? I don’t care if it’s ‘lunchtime’, or whatever. You just tell me you need something and I’ll take care of you, okay?”

Chris looks doubtful, but nods, slowly. “Okay, Jake. I can, um, I can do that, but you don’t have to feed me I’m used to not, to not eating, it doesn’t bother me I don’t even um feel, I don’t, don’t feel hungry much I don’t.”

“I know, buddy. But we’re going to try and concentrate on feeling hungry more. I’m going to buy you a coffee and a scone before my first class-”

“Are you, um, are you getting-”

“Yeah, I’ll get one too.” Chris relaxes, going nearly boneless in relief. Jake reaches out to take his hands - long, thin fingers not roughened or reddened by housework. They’re a little cold, but warm quickly to his touch, and Chris tightens his grip immediately, looking up at Jake, eyes wide and almost adoring. “You can do this, Chris, okay? I trust you. I believe in you.”

Chris’s fingers start to tremble in Jake’s grip, and his lips press together. His eyes tear up, just a little. “D-do you really, Jake? Am I good, to be trusted? Am I, um, am I am I am I-”

“You’re very good, Chris,” Jake says, softly. “And you’re going to do great. Okay, one more time. Who are you?”

“Christopher Garner but I like to be called Chris,” Chris says, each word dropped with importance, with gravity. For once, he thinks it all carefully through before he speaks. “I’m from Michigan, the part shaped like a mitten, and Michigan is a state in the United States of America, which is a country, and it’s our country where we live. I’m your cousin because your dad is my dad’s brother. I’m staying with you because my parents are on a cruise and I’m too young to stay home alone because I’m not eighteen.” 

“Perfect, buddy.”

Chris hesitates, looking guilty. “Jake?”

“Yeah?”

“I, um. I am eighteen.”

I’ll bet my left goddamn testicle you’re not. Doing this to you should count as a fucking justifiable homicide when I find that son of a bitch and gut him-

“I know, man.“ Jake’s voice stays soft and soothing. “But it’s just for the story.”

“… okay, okay, it’s just, um, just just for the story, I can do that. I can.” Chris nods quickly, giving Jake’s hands a tight squeeze with his own. 

Jake smiles, pulling back to ruffle the coppery hair. Chris glows at the attention, the affection, tilting his head into it like a cat. 

“Okay, bud. I think we’re ready. Let’s go catch the bus. If we get the 6:45 instead of the 7:15 we’ll have time to drink our coffee before my first class.”

He leads Chris out, the young rescue repeating his story quietly to himself, hands buried in the pockets of his zipup, his barcode and number safely hidden underneath his shirt, determined to make Jake proud and pretend to be just another free person like everyone else. 

[stillheresanctuary]

I work for the local animal welfare department, and we got called for what we thought was a dogfighting ring. It was not. It was a bitty-fighting ring. I couldn’t stop the state from euthanizing the ten or so fighting bitties, that’s the law as the view is that they can’t be rehabilitated, just like fighting dogs. But... there was a “bait bitty,” and I was able to get them to delay putting him down if I could find a rescue willing to help. 1/2

2/2 He looks to be a Horrortale Papyrus bitty. He doesn’t speak any language, just babble, but I’ve had some success with a picture board. All his teeth are broken, likely on purpose, so he need soft foods. He doesn’t like other bitties, we think he was used as both bait and a heat aid for them so he screams if they’re near, but he seems okay with humans. Anyway, I hope you can help, he doesn’t have long left. We think they just called him Bait, but maybe that should change.

- - -

A bitty fighting ring.

Fuck.

Pardon my language, but FUCK.

I’m going to have to talk to Mama and make sure she’s aware of the situation, she came to us from a similar situation and could get violent if she thinks we’re getting a fighter. I’ll get a space together for the little guy, it’s going to be difficult to properly care for him since pretty much everybody here at the Sanctuary besides myself is a type of bitty.

As for the name... Well. No body deserves to be named BAIT.

Until he feels better and decides to choose a name for himself, I’m going to go with my gut and name this little survivor after one of my favorite Irish mythological heroes- Cu Chulainn, the mighty hound of Ulster.

///

“Remember, stay out of sight until I’ve got him settled, okay? He’s scared of other bitties, pretty much the opposite of Pocket, so he’s going to be staying with us here in my room until we can figure out something better.”

“S’why y’made that house thingy?”

Cell nodded, lowering themselves down onto their knees next to the bed. Underneath, a large cardboard box had been set up much like the kennel apartments in the medbay, large enough for a nice bed and space to store clothing and personal items without feeling crowded or stuffy. Strings of tiny fairy lights were stitched through the top, giving a warm ambient glow to the comfy little space. Hopefully, the badly spooked little Horror Pap would like it...

“Okay, Brass, I’m gonna help him out of my hoodie. Could you go to your room for a little bit?”

The brassberry frowned, but nodded, moving from the desk where he had been sitting over to a ladder that went all the way to the top of a bookcase, where another box apartment had been set up, though it looked much more lived in. With their roommate out of the way, Cell hunkered down and gently reached into their sweatshirt to where the latest addition to the Center had decided to hide himself upon being given over, tucked up under Cell’s arm and making an honest attempt at melding into their turtleneck.

“Hey, Cu, you ready to see your new room? We can move it to where ever you want, but I thought you’d like the privacy under the bed.”

When the bitty didn’t respond, Cell tried not to take it personally. The Horror Pap didn’t understand really all that was going on, and had apparently never been around anyone speaking long enough to pick up any kind of language, so communication was difficult at best. So far, they had been making do with a calming vocal tone and gestures bordering on sign language, but the hardest part was trying to move the little guy without scaring or hurting him. He seemed to be really clingy and touch starved, but screamed when he was handled in any way he didn’t like, which was a frightening learning process.

Cell reached a few fingers towards the bitty, watching to make sure his eye lights were tracking, and very gently tapped him on the nearest wrist. He jolted, startled, but looked up and seemed to finally notice that it was quite a bit lighter. He clung harder, and Cell sighed, sitting back on their legs.

“It’s okay, Cu, we’ve got all night...”

Cu Chulainn the Mighty has been added to Residents.

[callmeblake]

MCR specific tags (WIP)

 EDIT: This is no longer being updated please go HERE for an updated version.

I had this in a page but it kept losing the tags. I have not the patience to put them all in again today.

Please just put it in manually for now on unlinked ones until I do.

Magazine Posters and Articles Lists - all members

Frank-

Instagram: frankieromustdie

Body: frank’s hands, bare chest, frank’s tummy, frank’s legs, moustache frank,  frank on his knees,  frank's smile

Bands: steve weil and the disco kings, Hybrid, Sector 12,  Pencey Prep, I am a graveyard, LeATHERMØUTH, Frnkiero andthe cellabration, bloodNUN, frank iero and the patience, fiatfv, frank iero and the future violents

Frank’s covers

Frankie in red

Frank in Purple

Frank in Camo

Frank’s hair

Frank in jean jackets

Other: Frank in aviators, white wrist cuff with studs, skeleton gloves, pink and blue striped tie, tiara frank, frank spitting, padlock necklace, bandana frank, misfits gloves, electrified frankie, pimp frank, frank with dogs, shirtless frank, shower frank, frank drinking water, macaroni necklace, mardi gras beads, frank all in black, red and black bandana, frank in a choker, shovel tie, shorts, american flag guitar strap,  frankenstein guitar strap , blindfolded, frank in a suit, pinstripe suit, snap hospital gown, checkered vans, green scarf, frank in glasses, yellow and black shoes, he's wearing a fucking belt/leather strap around his wrist,  frank with records,  fidget spinner, zombie sticker, arizona tea shorts,  transparent sunglasses

Hats: checkered earflap hat, cheese hat, newsies hat, sailor hat, hawaii stocking cap, stocking cap frank, engineer hat, green hat,  riot fest sucks hat,  i need my space nasa hat,  pink milk teeth hat,  carhartt beanie

Shirts: Death Spells Arm Stripe Shirt, jail stripe shirt , hostage shirt , yourcodenameis:milo shirt, gray soft looking sweatshirt, faded wash blue button up shirt, I am a monster shirt, brown velour striped shirt, blue arm stripe shirt, steelers 32 shirt , long sleeved polka dot shirt, protect each other shirt , red sweatshirt with foot on fire, green cunt shirt, inside out shirt, kill shirt, lehigh army rotc shirt, hostage shirt, christian death shirt, hi how are you? shirt, eagle sweatshirt, blue short sleeved shirt with white stitching, browns sweatshirt, danzig shirt, bahama mama cat shirt, navy blue V neck sweater, red shirt under black sweater, voice in the wire shirt, kill 'em all shirt, black flag shirt, bart shirt , green inside out airborne shirt , legalize gay shirt , fred perry polo , raglan shirt , gray sweater, yellow morrissey rose shirt , no love shirt , son of a beach shirt , gray and burgundy striped sweater , blue shoulder adidas shirt t, black shirt with yellow arm stripe , white titty pocket shirt , blue denim titty pocket shirt, yellow and blue stripe plaid shirt, black long sleeved shirt with thin white stripe, wu tang clan shirt , faded wash blue button up shirt , duck hunting shirt , hole heart shirt , plaid titty pocket shirt, ramones shirt, white wives shirt, U.S. army patch shirt , bathory sweatshirt, i got crabs at fisherman's wharf in san francisco shirt , dare shirt, x files shirt, boozey shirt, steel city shirt, short sleeve polo with white trim,  short sleeve polo with white trim button flap, fuck your crew shirt, inside out rick springfield shirt, red muscle shirt, black muscle shirt, dead animal skeletons sleeveless shirt, LBCB shirt, mystery arm stripe shirt, jawbreaker muscle shirt, two tone blue stripe shirt, boozey shirt, inside out holy family nutley shirt, holy family nutley shirt, smiley face shirt, lumberjack shirt, red shirt with white ribbing, green army shirt , kangaroo shirt, chocolate starlight mint shirt, red dad sweater, black short sleeve center buttons shirt, yellow shirt,  black shirt with face on it, royal blue shirt, joy division shirt, coca cola shirt, gray plaid shirt, pizza shirt,  No5 Rescue shirt ,  plaid titty pocket shirt, batman shirt,  nails shirt,  black short sleeved shirt with orange cold button,  white short sleeved shirt with orange cold button,  black t shirt,  frankly scallop I don't give a clam,  goodwill blouse,  steel city shirt,  burgundy trash talk destroy peace sign shirt, navy blue t shirt,  rose bowl 1987 sweatshirt, dave hause starbucks shirt,  grateful dead shirt,  NVRNDR shirt,  blue firmino shirt,  harley davidson eagle shirt,  green striped soccer jersey,  green and blue striped shirt, bleeding smiley face shirt,  soccer jersey,  batman shirt

striped sailor shirt  not to be confused with  black sailor striped shirt or  sailor blue striped shirt

Jackets and hoodies:

patience windbreaker,  cunt sweatshirt , button up hoodie , burgundy hooded sweatshirt, red hoodie , lonsdale london jacket , that damn jacket with the orange pockets , burgundy hoodie , scotch tape jacket , zipper jacket , gray and yellow striped sweater , own name hoodie , racing jacket , white levi denim jacket, denim vest, the banner hoodie, thin white striped hoodie, skeleton crew hoodie, dawn of the dead hoodie, vampire mouth hoodie, adidas windbreaker , jacket with pentagram and finger missing, flair navy blue hoodie. levi fleece lined jacket, skull hoodie, duck hunting hoodie, walt disney world jacket , navy blue hoodie, olive dad sweater, brown dad sweater, never fails to fail me sweatshirt , green coat, carhartt jacket, gray dad sweater with pockets, nylon windbreaker, skeleton ribs hoodie,  skeleton jacket , I heart hoodie, SSE hoodie, wallpaper hoodie, purple cable knit sweater, blue cable knit sweater, black v neck sweater, hoodie with strings,  blue mustangs sweatshirt,  yellow windbreaker,  white stringed neck collar hoodie,  blue alligator dad sweater,  alligator dad sweater,  yellow windbreaker,  fur trimmed coat,  boston hooded sweatshirt,  gray windbreaker,  skull hoodie,  green army sweater,  american nightmare hoodie,  biker jacket,  blue alligator dad sweater with welcome button,  blue alligator dad sweater,  black hoodie,  champion windbreaker,  camo windbreaker,  red and orange V jacket,

Pins/badges: I’m a mess pin, skeleton crew button

Guitars: Gibson ES,  cheap trick bullseye guitar, phant o matic, green guitar, epiphone 50th, blue guitar, red guitar, orange guitar, yellow guitar, guitar with metal front, ftw guitar

Gerard-

Gerard’s art, bat buckle, striped scarf, blue suit, checkered shoes, gerard way smoking, purple gerard, velvet suit, bat buckle

Jackets:

jacket with diamond shapes, kill blazer, black and white coat, white levi denim jacket, candy apple red jacket, C.Taylor Jacket, thin white striped hoodie, black poncho , vomit poncho, T jacket, dead pegasus jacket, faux fur coat, green perry jacket

Hats: beanie gerard, ‘70s hat

Hair: orange hair gerard, red hair gerard, scarecrow hair, lemon gerard, blonde gerard, two tone hair, platinum gerard

Shirts:

green t shirt, LA Co. jail shirt , western rose shirt, motorhead shirt, danzig shirt, red white and blue star shirt , madonna shirt, black flag shirt, sternum shirt, rolling stones shirt, polka dot shirt , faded wash blue shirt, green schoeneck shirt, , dr. pepper shirt, alkaline trio shirt, pink lips shirt, quiet riot shirt, inside out quiet riot shirt, iron maiden shirt, HAMBURGLAR SHIRT, number 5 shirt, green army shirt, planet of the apes shirt, christmas plaid shirt, plaid shirt, hawaiian shirt , iggy pop shirt, blue shirt with yellow arm stripe, green skull and crossbones shirt,  skull and crossbones tie,  blue gingham shirt,  the crow shirt,  planets shirt, t

Events: nccc2016, NYCC2016, twitch stream 2016, twitch stream 2017, wondercon, morrisoncon,

Other:

gerard way smoking, black tie with thin white stripe, velvet suit, zero mask, camo gee, red and black bandana, orange sunglasses, unicorn pin

Ray:  blue heart hoodie, Ray’s HAIR

Mikey:  Mikey in green sailboat shirt, misfits vans,  red scarf mikey, mikey in beach shirt, blue and orange skeleton shirt

Photographers:

neil krug, ture lillegraven, justin borucki,  andrew lipovsky, marvin scott jarrett, trip fontaine, Matthias Clamer, brinson banks, rich gaccione, max fairclough, lisa johnson, gene ambo, sarah louise bennett, brandyn leigh,  dani silvia, ben gibson, Chris Anthony, Dave Willis,Dave Hill, paul harries,  jelle wagenaar, chapman baehler, jenny lewis, eddie malluk, danielle levitt, david reich, micah smith, david ellis, tina korhonen, carter, john mcmurtrie, naki, BJ papas, daragh mcdonagh, tony woolliscroft, andrew kendall, jeremy harris, marvin scott jarett, dean chalkley, scarlet page, greg watermann, lego, sean murphy, martin schoeller, pamela littky steve brown, phil mucci, jennifer tzar, brinson banks, jeremy saffer, roberto chamorro, kevin scanlon, daniel meilniczek, derrick santini, jayme thornton, 

Photoshoots:

school desks photoshoot, chinatown photoshoot,  red jacket photoshoot, fingerchin photoshoot, roses photoshoot, frank and roses, crooked wallpaper photoshoot, storage unit photoshoot, storage unit photoshoot 2, purple curtain photoshoot,  three cheers photoshoot, palm springs, quarter machine photoshoot,  gravel photoshoot, bus photoshoot, abandoned house photoshoot, organ photoshoot, yellow bleachers photoshoot,  chinatown photoshoot, movie theatre photoshoot, flower photoshoot,  log photoshoot , headphones photoshoot,  fire mural, brick photoshoot, teal and brick wall photoshoot,  orange picture photoshoot, green wall photoshoot,  big head photoshoot, twig photoshoot, rolled magazine photoshoot, priest photoshoot, cinder block photoshoot,  bar photoshoot, tunnels, saw blade, shore photoshoot, shore photoshoot 2, shore photoshoot 3, umbrella photoshoot, school desks photoshoot,  kings of the wild frontier, bowie face photoshoot, clockwork photoshoot,  frank holding gerard’s leg, way family home shoot, three cheers photoshoot, yellow skeleton outfit photoshoot, water photoshoot, they came from outer jersey, ray in a tree photoshoot, diner pics for kerrang, never washed denim jacket photoshoot, rolled magazine photoshoot, willow tree photoshoot, scumbag shirt photoshoot, green coat photoshoot t, stairs photoshoot , orange pole photoshoot , gray siding photoshoot , garrote photoshoot , pink hotel photoshoot , bench photoshoot , gold slats photoshoot, gear case photoshoot, carousel photoshoot, radiator photoshoot, motorcycle photoshoot

[reliquiaen]

round two! 13, 23, 37, 53, 54

i love you so much sib wow okay here we go. under a cut this time

13.   Who takes longer getting ready?

I’m gonna say tarryn but only bc like lmao her canon everyday outfit involves arm and leg wraps instead of long sleeves n stockins so yeah man that’s gonna take a bit. She wears like four layers, give her a minute

23.   Who likes to wear the others sweatshirts?

Tarryn is always stealing callas shirts. Like all the time forever. She insists that calla has the superpower of always being able to find the warmest, baggiest, snuggliest hoodies/sweaters. (tarryn is the wardrobe thief in general tho)

37.   Who reads while the other snuggles up to them?

Tarryn does the reading and calla does the snuggles. She loves snuggles. Can, will and has on several previous occasions fallen asleep while tarryn plays with her hair

53.   Who has an adorable sneeze and who sneezes so aggressively they pull a muscle?

tarryn sneezes like this. this cute lil eeee sorta sneeze lmao calla teases her about it. calla sneezes with her whole body like coughing it’s weird

54.   Who checks the prices while grocery shopping?

Tarryn. Growing up on a budget will do that to you. like depending on the scenario (again) but in pretty much all aus where grocery shopping is a thing she grew up pretty poor so it’s just a habit for her to check to see how much things will cost. doesn’t wanna blow her budget. (even in canon she’s pretty careful too like she grows most of her own food but other stuff she has to be real miserly with that’s why her clothes are all so heavily patched)

i’m gonna bonus add this question bc i love it.

87.   Who comes home from work to see that the other one bought a puppy?

“you bought a puppy”

“technically I rescued her from the shelter down the road”

DEEP SIGH “tarryn we have two cats, a pig, half a dozen chickens, two goats and six sheep. We don’t need a dog”

“the dog is to help herd the sheep”

“YOU CAN TALK TO ANIMALS”

“her name is apple, isn’t she precious”

[littlewitchcurry]

Dog T shirts Dogaholic Rescue Another Dog Hoodies Sweatshirts TH

[epikerlon]

Julius rock

Julius rock for free#

Julius rock professional#

Born to parents Rose and Julius Rock back in 1965, Chris would go on. This revenue funds the development and maintenance of our website. When it comes to making people laugh, comedian Chris Rock, 57, has had a large audience to practice on since a very young age.

Julius rock for free#

Our wide selection is elegible for free shipping and. Christopher Julius Rock III is main protagonist of Everybody Hates Chris and the Brother of Tanya and Drew and the Son of Julius and Rochelle when he went to Summer. Deaf Dogs Rock accepts no responsibility for any liability or for any injury or damages to any person or property caused by any listed deaf dog, as well as any cause of action, claims, suits or demands whatsoever that may arise as a result of such injury or damage.Īs an Amazon Associate and Chewy affiliate, we earn commissions from qualifying purchases. Buy Paul Frank Juniors Julius Rock Badges Hoodie and other Fashion Hoodies & Sweatshirts at. so chris rock and his brother are half brothers or google is wrong with jordan rocks. Community content is available under CC-BY-SA unless otherwise noted. Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs tagged as julius rock with no. He is married to Rochelle, and has three children: Chris, Drew, and Tonya. Any deaf dogs found, adopted through or listed on are the sole responsibility of the adoption organizations and/or the adopting party. Julius Rock is one of the main characters of Everybody Hates Chris. Julius has 1 job listed on their profile.

Julius rock professional#

It is crucial that any pet found through an adoption service be thoroughly examined by a veterinarian immediately upon adoption. View Julius Rocks profile on LinkedIn, the worlds largest professional community. They had eight children: Chris, Tony, Kenny, Jordan, Andre, Brian, Charles, and Andi. Julius Rock Family life He and Rosalie Tingman were married until his death following ulcer surgery in 1988. Although the information on is updated frequently, it is always best to call the facility, organization, or private owner that lists the deaf dogs with us to ensure it is still available and to ensure that the information listed on is accurate. Julius Rock's About Chris Rock, Tony Rock, and Jordan Rock are the late fathers of actors and comedians Chris Rock, Tony Rock, and Jordan Rock. ROCK, JULIUS On Monday, December 27, 2004, JULIUS ROCK of Bethesda, MD. No information on Deaf Dogs Rock is guaranteed. Some deaf dogs are with rescue organizations or private owners. NOTICE: Deaf Dogs Rock is a directory of deaf dogs in need of homes.

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Dark Blue Scrubs Respiratory Therapist Shirt

As fashion’s sole Dark Blue Scrubs Respiratory Therapist Shirt . Asian plus size model-musician-budding-designer, Nu understands that she occupies a singular space. Now that doors have opened for her, she’s ready to break them down for the people who follow her. “There are so many different types of people. You can’t just pick one token representation and call it a day,” says Nu. “We’ve gotten the ball rolling, and that’s exciting, but now is the time when we have to push so that everyone can find their way into these rooms.” Transforming a local music and film festival into an internationally renowned event is no small feat, but Afropunk co-founder Matthew Morgan is preparing to do it for the second time. Billed as a “new platform and music carnaval” meant to “bridge the equity gap in entertainment for Black, Brown, and Asian people across all levels of the industry,” LETS get FR.EE aims to harness the power of creativity to make change. Ahead of its official summer 2022 launch, LETS get FR.EE set up shop on a sweltering Saturday in Queens—the most linguistically and ethnically diverse county in the country��to give folks a taste of what they can look forward to.Dark Blue Scrubs Respiratory Therapist Shirt, hoodie, sweater, longsleeve and ladies t-shirt

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Unisex Hoodie

Classic Men's  August 26 is National Dog Day Dark Blue Scrubs Respiratory Therapist Shirt . And what better way to celebrate than by show your puppy some love with a stylish new toy or accessory? Founded in 2004 by author and animal welfare advocate, Colleen Paige, National Dog Day celebrates dogs of all breeds and raises awareness about the number of dogs that need to be rescued each year from places like public shelters. This holiday honours family dogs, military and police dogs, therapy pets, service animals that assist people with disabilities, and abandoned or stray shelter puppies in need of adoption. According to research by Azoth Analytics, the global pet market was valued at $223.54 billion USD in 2020, and dogs are the most popular pet to be adopted in the pet market. Other than encouraging the public to adopt not shop, National Dog Day is also the perfect time to show some appreciation to the beautiful, loyal canines in your life. That means extra cuddles, a special new bone perhaps and, yep, by gifting your four-legged BFF an aesthetically pleasing, design-focused dog accessory. Dogs can be stylish, too! From a designer dog bed and ceramic treat jar to a customizable ID tag, click through the gallery below for some of our favourite picks to help celebrate National Dog Day. You Can See More Product: https://eternalshirt.com/product-category/trending/ Read the full article