#sales went through the roof

[jokingluna]

[ocdhuacheng]

also flamecon was amazing the vibes were so much fun evryone was so nice and most impressively, i didnt see a SINGLE person not wearing a mask

[omgthatdress]

Few American writers and entertainers have managed to have careers as wild and scandalous as that of Mae West.

A vaudeville performer since childhood, she developed a distinctive sexy stage persona and signature sauntering walk that was inspired by the likes of Julian Eltinge and Bert Savoy.

In 1927, she opened her first play, Sex, which she both wrote and starred in. It centered around Margy, a high-end sex worker, and Clara, the stuck up society lady who was the mother of the man Margie falls in love with. Ticket sales were strong, but city officials were upset about the play's risqué content. West was eventually arrested, tried, and sentenced to ten days in jail for obscenity.

While incarcerated, she told reporters that she'd worn her silk panties in jail, instead of the "burlap" that was usually given to prisoners. The scandal of it all sent ticket sales through the roof.

Her next play was set to be even more controversial: it was called The Drag, and it had an entire cast of homosexuals. The end scene was a massive and spectacular drag ball. The show went for ten performances before it was shut down by police.

Police threatened to shut down all of Broadway if The Drag continued to be performed, so it was cancelled. However, a censored version with a now heterosexual protagonist called The Pleasure Man was allowed to perform a year later.

Eventually, West would make her way to Hollywood and become one of the most iconic stars of the 1930s.

In 2019, The Drag was performed for the first time in many decades at Gay City in Seattle, and has since then been performed several times across the U.S.

[itsclydebitches]

Watching The Apothecary Diaries and from a character perspective I love the detail of the pipe, the one used in the warehouse explosion. In just a few, literal seconds of storytelling we're shown quite clearly who Maomao is:

She notes that she "accidentally" took the pipe with her. Despite being a poor commoner surrounded by luxury, she resists most temptations towards theft. There's one moment - was it when she went to Ah-Duo's palace? - where she notes that anyone with so many nice things wouldn't notice something small going missing, but then she knocks herself out of that thinking. Maomao isn't some #pure protagonist who'd never even consider such a thing, rather she's an upstanding and smart individual who realizes this is both wrong and, notably, a dumb move if she gets caught. Maomao is careful to ask for the materials she needs to pull off the bomb experiment and there are times when, even basking in a love of herbs, she will not pick them if they're from someone else's garden. Maomao respects others' property and not even her hyperfixations will override that (a common flaw in other single-minded protagonists). This also dovetails nicely into her admission that she and Luomen built a lot of things they needed because she grew up poor. Who's to say how hard someone else worked to make/buy/secure that object?

Sidenote: It's interesting to me that the exception here seems to be Jinshi. Just an episode earlier Maomao tried to fleece him of who knows how much through the sale of Granny's "educational materials," which, you know, is very much theft. Beyond the fact that the general wealth of a noble differs greatly from the specific possession of a commoner (or even a woman concubine), it feels almost... intimate to me? That's not quite the word I'm looking for, but I mean that Maomao allows Jinshi to influence her in ways she doesn't let others, at least outside of her immediate family. Another notable example of that is her unwillingness to fake an interest in him. We see many times over the course of the show - facing off against the women in the outer court, acting as a courtesan for the night, etc. - that Maomao is perfectly capable of playing the smiling, docile, hapless woman society expects. Yet from day one she's refused to apply that mask for Jinshi's sake and, in turn, despises when he turns his charm mask on her. Maomao wants people to exist plainly, just as she normally does... and a part of that is accepting that she's sometimes an imperfect, immoral person. Weirdly, trying to steal from Jinshi feels like an act of trust towards him, both on a safety level (I trust that you won't punish me too harshly if I get caught) and an emotional one (I trust you to see an important part of my character: that I'll bend and even break the rules for my family's sake).

Moving on, Maomao is also incredibly practical and is living under the realities of a) poverty and b) a patriarchal society. She notes many times throughout the series (this episode included) that Luomen is terrible at turning a profit and Maomao herself owes Granny a fair bit. Combine that with the reminder that she was just fired from one position after being kidnapped from another and of course Maomao thinks about selling the pipe. She didn't intentionally steal it and - crucially - she has no reason to think it's still important to the investigation, but now that it's in her possession she might as well make use of it. Clean it up, find a new mouthpiece, and sell it off for a good price. Maomao is constantly thinking about the price of things, particularly in the context of whether she, a commoner, deserves them and that leads to her likewise noting the everyday objects that could make a big difference in her life, things that others don't even notice. For Jinshi that's just a useless stack of papers to burn; for Maomao they're a potential source of income, translating directly to her father keeping a roof over his head. Class is HUGE in The Apothecary Diaries, so of course Maomao takes one look at a beautifully carved pipe and considers how much she could sell it for.

...but she doesn't. Maomao looks closer still, uses those keen deduction skills to assume the pipe may have sentimental importance, and decides to give it back. Laomen isn't in immediate danger of being evicted, she may have just snagged him a new customer in Lihaku, and Granny isn't hounding her too much, so soft-hearted Maomao is going to put practicality aside and return it. Because she is soft-hearted. This is the girl utterly committed to the big gestures - risking exposure to warn two mothers about the poison killing their babies - as well as the small: staying up night after night to sew pockets into everyone's clothes just so they might be a little warmer for one festival. Now here, Maomao decides to still clean up the pipe. It's not enough to just return it, she's going to return it in pristine condition, even though that won't net her anything other than a potential 'Thank you' now. For me, Maomao so often embodies the message that when peoples' basic needs are met, they're then free to be quite kind to one another.

Love this girl. So, so much.

[gucciwins]

harry brings his girlfriend home to meet his family but it does not go as planned

word count: 5896

a/n: enjoy this story inspired by a lovely anon. happy reading, my sweet friends 💜

+

Y/N was nervous. 

She squeezed Harry’s hand, trying to ground herself, but it seemed to transport her to the first time they met at the diner down the street from her apartment. 

Going to university in Los Angeles wasn’t glamorous, not when she had endless bills to pay to keep a roof over her head. She had gone to Martha’s Cakes, a small diner ten minutes from her apartment that served the best hot chocolate. The food was good too but the hot chocolate is what she ordered each visit without fail. It’s a place she’d eat when Y/N had a bit of extra to spend on herself. Instead of buying herself new shoes, or another jelly cat bag charm (Otto, the sausage dog, went everywhere with her) she decided on eating a good meal that didn’t consist of ramen or buttered noodles. She came here when she needed a pick me up or simply wanted to have a nice conversation. It was a late Tuesday in the Spring. Where the sun took longer to come down, allowing her extra time at the bar to do assignments and chat with Antonio about the best produce sales. Y/N had her head down working on an essay due two weeks from now. It was based on one of Los Angeles buildings; it could be based on the oldest church to the Dodger Stadium. Y/N decided on the Avila Adobe residence. Known as the oldest standing residence in the City of Los Angeles. Olvera St. was a famous street and was filled with history. It was one of her favorite places to walk through. 

As she was looking through photos, taking notes of significant dates, a patron sat next to her. Y/N didn’t bother seeing who it was, simply scooting her scattered papers closer to her, tucking a few under her laptop. 

“It’s not bothering me.” A man spoke. 

It startled Y/N only because he had a deep British voice. It felt odd to be hearing in such an unknown area. 

“Darla would throw coffee on it if she saw I was bothering a customer.” 

“I said it’s okay.” 

Y/N laughs. “She would say it wasn’t.” 

It seems the man lets it drop as he has nothing to reply. Y/N keeps up with updating her notes as she hears the man order a stack of the lemon poppy pancakes. Those were her favorite, Y/N would get them when she was having a bad day because it would without a fail make her smile. Y/N worked in silence over the next half hour when she felt the need to step to the restroom. Y/N did not want to pack up. Usually she asks a staff member to watch her items, but the diner seemed to be a bit busier. She looked around and her eyes landed on the pancake guy who had his headphones on. She hated bothering people, but he looked kind enough. 

Y/N tapped next to his plate to get his attention. It worked because in seconds he slipped off his headphones and had turned his whole body to look at her. It gave her the chance to look at him fully for the first time. He had a buzz cut, and it looked really good. He had slight stubble, but what captured her attention were his bright jade eyes. It felt like he was staring deep into her soul.

“Do–uh–Would you please watch my stuff? I have to use the ladies’ room.”

“Course. Guard it with my life.” 

Y/N thanked him and hurried away. When she came back, the man had slightly shifted over, his eyes staring intently at the dark screen of her laptop. 

“Thank you,” she shot him a smile. Waking up her screen and getting back to her assignment, except she couldn’t get the man out of her head. 

The dimples were something she focused on when he smiled, telling her it was no problem. Then his green eyes were so beautiful she felt she had seen them before. Though she could swear she had never met him before. She did have a weird feeling she had seen him before. Once it hit eight o’clock, Y/N knew it was time to call it. Y/N had her rough draft ready and could continue tomorrow. For now, she’d walk home and take a bath to wash away today’s day. 

Y/N was packing up and could see the green-eyed gentleman was too. She would hate herself if she didn’t ask him where she knew him from, if she knew him. Y/N had her bag strapped on her shoulder and turned to him for the last time. 

“Excuse me, sir?”

He turned, as if he was waiting to hear from her. “Yes?” 

“How do I know you?” 

The man’s smile dropped. He looked confused, so she didn’t know him. 

“Don’t think we’ve met, until today, Y/N.”

Y/N’s frown deepens. “I didn’t tell you my name.”

He pointed to her bag. She looks down at the red stitching displaying her name. Well, now she looked dumb. Of course, he could read. “You look familiar to me. Sorry if that’s weird.”

The guy clears his throat, shaking his head. “I get that a lot.” 

That’s odd, Y/N thought. 

“I feel like I know you,” she tried one last time. 

“Promise we don’t know each other. I would remember someone as beautiful as you.” 

Y/N’s jaw dropped (not literally), but her face felt warm. Fuck, she was not expecting this turn of event. “Ha, uh. I want to say me too, but uh, there’s something familiar about you.” 

Harry chuckles as if he knows something she doesn’t. 

“Can I walk you out?” He asks. 

She nods. He leaves a large tip and follows her to the exit. Y/N ways to Sonia, who shoots her thumbs up, but Y/N has no idea why. Y/N and the man linger outside the door, waiting to see who makes the first move. 

“Well, uh, can I have your Instagram?” Y/N asks, not knowing if asking for his number was too forward. At least this way she could stalk him for a bit. 

“Oh, I don’t use that. I can give you my number,” he counters. 

Y/N perks up. “That works.” She hands him her phone where she watches his hands type in his phone number into her contacts. He hands her back her phone, and she looks at the newly added contact. 

Harry S. 

It seemed that’s all she needed for her to connect the dots. She lifts her head up and Harry has a flushed face. He didn’t look away from her, almost waiting to see what she’d say. 

Y/N not sure how to break the silence. “Harry Sanchez?” 

Harry laughs, and it’s all the confirmation Y/N needs. “More like Styles.” 

“Oh.” 

Did she fuck up her chances? She feels like she didn’t. She got his number. 

“What can I use your number for?” She asks, wanting to double check. He still wants her to have it.

“Hopefully for us to plan a date.” 

“Even after this,” she points between them as if to explain what they know just happened. 

“I’d like to see where it could go.” 

“Shit, uh. Well–I’m free Thursday.” Harry smirks, making her want to crawl in a hole because now she feels desperate. “I’m going to leave.”

Harry stops her by grabbing her hand. “I think Thursday is perfect. Are you up for a sunset dinner by the beach?” 

“Sounds perfect,” she promised him. 

“Good. Thursday it is.”

Now she is standing in front of his childhood home, about to meet his mother and older sister. Y/N had spoken to his mother, Anne, on the phone a few times, but his sister was always busy when Harry tried to pass her the phone. Harry promised her it would go well, but she feared the worst. Their story was genuine but to others could sound fabricated but come on, no one knows Martha’s cakes, it’s not even on Yelp. It’s a place once stumbled upon and then shares the magic with people in their life. 

Harry said he felt like coffee and walked for a while until he saw people walk out. The smell of coffee is what drew him in, but the pretty girl he sat next to had him stay for hours. It’s something he shared months down the line. Y/N and Harry had now been together for nine months. Because of her Master’s Y/N had no time to travel. Harry visited home often, but Y/N couldn’t drop everything she was doing to go with him. He understood, but she felt his family wouldn’t. Harry met her dad and twin brothers six months into dating because they lived down in San Diego, only a two-hour drive from them. While Harry’s family lived an ocean away and she refused for him to pay for her flight to London. On top of that, she had classes and exams to worry about that did not allow her to hop on a flight for a week. Thankfully, she made it through the winter semester and had a few weeks off from her internship before going back for her last semester. Y/N knew graduation was just around the corner, and thankfully, had little debt to pay off.

Harry held her tight as he led her up the steps. Y/N was walking slower, trying to prolong the introduction. In her mind, she hoped she was simply psyching herself out and that things actually went well with Harry’s family. That they accepted her because they could see how much she loved him. 

“You ready, Lovie?” Harry flashed her a dimpled grin.

Truthfully, she wanted to say no, but Y/N couldn’t do that to him. Not when he was bouncing with excitement. “Ready.” She confirmed. 

Harry gave two loud knocks and then opened the front door. Y/N stood behind him as he rushed to embrace his mother. Anne was a sweet woman, much shorter than Harry, but by the tight embrace she held Harry, Y/N could tell she was strong. 

Anne gave Harry two big kisses, one on each cheek, before turning her attention to Y/N. 

“Y/N!” Anne cheered. She said it with so much delight, it surprised Y/N. 

In a matter of seconds, someone tightly wrapped Y/N in a hug, which she quickly reciprocated. “It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs. Twist.” 

Anne waved her off. “Call me Anne, my dear.” 

“Anne,” Y/N repeated.

“Now come in and tell me all about the trip. Did he trick you into going to that fancy lounge where you get free food?” Y/N giggled because Harry indeed took her to a fancy lounge when he said he was taking her to get a smoothie. 

Y/N spared a smile at Harry, but it was quick to fall when Y/N met another pair of eyes in the kitchen, looking at her with an intense stare. It dropped quickly because her attention shifted to Harry. Y/N focused back on Anne, trying to brush off the moment as something she imagined. 

Y/N tried her best to ignore the pit forming in her stomach. There was no need to worry. Harry talked about wonderful things about his family. She was in safe hands. At least that’s what she kept reminding herself.

+

Y/N didn’t feel welcome. Anne was a gem, but Gemma was cold and looked bored whenever Y/N said a word. Y/N wondered if Harry picked up on it. He hadn’t said a word. Harry was home and had no time to deal with Y/N’s insecurities. She had to be reading into Gemma, not liking her. Harry spoke the world of his older sister. He said she was his best friend, someone whose opinion he valued. Fear struck her. If Gemma didn’t like her after this visit, she knew that as soon as she got on that plane to go home, Harry would be breaking up with her. At least she’d had several hours to cry about on the plane pathetically.  

“There’s no way she didn’t know who you were,” Gemma scoffed, unbelieving of their story. 

Harry brushed off her comment as if she said nothing. “Gem, I was bald.” 

“Your face didn’t change.”

Harry sighs, “no, but you did a double take when I showed up to your doorstep to show you.” 

Gemma frowns, knowing he was right. “Whatever, you were all over twitter.” 

Harry is beginning to pick up on his sister’s defense and knows to drop it but will be picking it up with her later. “Anyway. Sitting next to each other, she asked me to watch her stuff when she had to use the restroom.”

“To look you up,” Gemma coughs.

Y/N fidgets in her chair, wanting to be anywhere but here. Harry continues with his story. “She thanked me and went back to her work. Before she left, Y/N asked if we knew each other, but I told her we didn’t. I wouldn’t forget someone as beautiful as her.” 

“Charming,” Anne gloats. “My charming boy.” 

Harry finished the story, stating it was meant to be. He had loved spending the time in Los Angeles getting to see the city through Y/N’s eyes. It’s a city she’s been living in for a couple of years. There was a lot for her to share with him. Harry had taken a liking to her favorite coffee shop. It had a design resembling a greenhouse and filled with plants, mainly featuring dried lavender. Truthfully, he spent a lot of time there because it was Y/N’s preferred place to study because it never got busy. Y/N called it her hidden gem. 

“I’ve never been happier,” Harry shares. Y/N beams at his words but can’t help glancing at Gemma, who can’t help but look sick to her stomach at hearing this news.

Dinner passed dreadfully slowly. Y/N comments when she needs to but honestly hopes to disappear for the night soon, no longer wanting to burden Gemma with her presence. While Anne showed Y/N where she could freshen up, Harry stayed downstairs to share a nightcap with his sister. 

Anne comes back to join them, but Gemma bites her tongue until their mother bids them goodnight. Harry gives his mother a tight embrace, commenting on how much he missed her. Gemma was happy her younger brother was home. 

“Are you happy, Harry?” Gemma breaks the silence that had fallen between them.

Harry sighs, “never been happier.” 

Gemma frowns, because she believes him. “I-I-nevermind.” 

Harry frowns because Gemma is never someone to stop herself from saying what’s on her mind. “Hey,” he places his hand on top of hers. “It’s me. Your annoying younger brother, you can tell me anything.” 

She removes her hand from under his and places them on her lap. “I don’t think she’s right for you.”

Harry sits back, surprised. “Sorry?”

“It’s clear she’s after something.” 

He’s having a hard time believing his sister. “Like what?”

“Your money.” 

“Is that all I’m good for?” He asks, baffled. 

“No. That’s why I’m telling you. She’s after one thing.” 

“How would you know?”

“Come on,” Gemma scoffs. “She goes to a prestigious school with a cost that no one could afford. It’s clear she wants you to pay for it.” 

“Gemma, I met her during her last year.”

“Debt doesn’t go away overnight,” she fights back. “She’ll get you to pay off her loans and leave you.”

Harry’s anger is overwhelming him. 

“You don’t even know her. Yet you say bad things about her.” It shuts Gemma up, and he uses that to his advantage and walks away.

“We saw the donation you made,” Gemma comments before he can make it up the stairs. 

He turns back, trying his best to swallow down his anger. “If you would have asked me, you would know it’s for the music program. I did that for several universities if you would have taken the time to do a bit more research. It grants them a scholarship, plus pays for room and board.” 

Gemma has no response. Harry is now standing in front of her and Gemma is nervous. She had never seen her brother this upset. 

“What I do with my money is my problem. If she wanted me to send her money for a new car, I would. If she wanted me to buy her a piece of land, I would do it in a blink of an eye. If Y/N asked me to give her every last dime in my account, I would do it without a second thought because I love her. I love her and she loves me. You know, five minutes is not enough to judge her. I do not have to tell you of her financial issues, but I will so you can go home tonight and sleep knowing how upset I am with you. Y/N received the presidential scholarship covering her tuition for the three years she was there. Y/N has applied to hundreds of scholarships to cover her book fees, and has to take on an unpaid internship while working 40 hours a week to cover her rent. Y/N has not accepted a single dime from me for her school because she has gotten this far without me. Y/N only lets me pay for her seven dollar coffee every other day. Y/N would rather give every last dollar to me if I needed it instead of keeping it for herself. Y/N still sends money to her twin brothers for new shoes, or new backpacks, because she loves her family.” 

Harry is near tears but keeps going. “I love Y/N. You might not, maybe you never will, but that girl has been the best thing to happen to me. I’ve never been more cared for and loved since she entered my life. So please, don’t bother coming back tomorrow or the rest of the week unless you have an apology for her.”

Y/N is grateful Harry’s room connects to the bathroom because, while she finished getting ready, she thought she would ask Harry for a cup of water and instead stumbled upon a conversation she shouldn’t have. Y/N tries her best to swallow her tears, but it’s no use. They’re more powerful than her. They stream down and Y/N decides to lie in bed, hoping by the time Harry comes in, she’s fast asleep. Y/N isn’t sure how much time has passed, but her tears have dried up and she’s as still as a rock when she hears Harry come in. She wants to tell him that she’s not worth defending if it means he’s messing up his relationship with his sister.

She hears him get ready for bed. Y/N knows he’s folding his clothes and placing them on the chair. He’s meticulous about his night-time routine. He crawls into bed next to her. Y/N tries her best to steal her breathing to make it seem like she’s sleeping, but Harry knows her too well. He scoots right behind her, his hand sliding over her hips and settling on her stomach, right by the scar she got on her eight birthday when she fell off her bike. Harry rubs the lifted skin, where she got four stitches. 

Y/N lets out a deep breath, working up the courage to say something, but her throat is closed. She relaxes against him. All her tears dried up. She is beginning to feel better now that she’s with him. A kiss to her temple has her heart slowing down. This is what it is to be protected. 

“I’m sorry,” Y/N croaks out when she feels like enough time has passed. 

Harry pulls her tight against him. It fills her with ease. “How much did you hear?”

Y/N shakes her head. “I don’t want you to argue with your family.” 

“It’s only my sister,” he defends.

“She’s an important person in your life. You’ve always specified that.” 

Harry sighs. He leaves a kiss behind Y/N’s ear. “You are important to me, too.”

“You don’t need to be fighting. It’s not necessary.” 

“It is when she needs a wack to her head.” 

“Harry,” Y/N drags out. “I don’t want you burning bridges.”

Harry understood where she was coming from, but Y/N was not seeing how it affected him as well. “We’ll be fine. She’s my sister. We’ll talk in a few days. All this will be in the past.”

Y/N freezes, feeling as if someone dropped a cold bucket of water on her. If Harry believes everything will be alright with his sister, that means he sees himself forgiving her for what she said but also means he would be getting rid of the problem. Her. 

Harry was going to be breaking up with her. This started her tears to fall again, only this time she couldn’t keep quiet. They were pouring out of her at a quick rate. He was quick to sit up bringing Y/N with him.

“Hey, hey,” Harry cooed. “What happened? What did I do?”

“Y-y-you,” she stuttered. Nothing was coming out. 

He would not rush her. Instead, he shifted her to straddle his lap. Y/N tucked her head into his neck. Hary felt his neck dampen with tears. He pressed soft kisses to her hair, whispering “I love you,” hoping it would be enough to calm her. He snaked a hand under her night shirt softly running his nails up and down her back. Y/N curled in closer at the action. His sweet girl was feeling overwhelmed, and he felt awful because he wasn’t being helpful. 

Y/N pulled away. Her eyes were puffy and tears streaming down her cheeks. Harry still thought she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Her hands moved from her side up to his neck, she settled them on his cheek. She caressed his face, calming him down. He hadn’t realized how overwhelmed he was, but it’s clear Y/N could see what he needed even in her moments of sadness. 

“I don’t want to lose you,” Y/N voiced. “I love you. I love you so much.”

Harry frowned. No one had said anything about him leaving. He would never dream of walking away from her. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

“But Gemma–”

He cuts her off. “Gemma doesn’t know you like I do. She is looking out for me and I know she meant no harm, but she went about all this wrong. She decided to judge us, judge you before getting to know you.”

Y/N did no wrong. She was nothing Gemma accused her of. Y/N knew that, of course she did, but Y/N hoped to impress his family, not make them upset. 

“I know you, Lovie. My mum knows you. Mostly, you know yourself. Your character speaks for you and it has never been anything but kind and loving.”

Harry’s words slowly begin to mend her heart.

“I love you, Harry.” 

He connects his lips with hers in a loving kiss. “I love you so much.” 

Y/N falls asleep to Harry’s voice as he sings her to sleep. It’s a lullaby he says his mum would sing when he had a nightmare. While Y/N didn’t know how tomorrow would go, she was happy to have Harry at her side.

+

The morning passed slowly between the three of them. They shared stories with Anne, Harry, catching her up on his upcoming plans. Y/N talked about her looming graduation and told Anne about her thesis project. Anne promised to make the trip for her graduation, something Harry couldn’t stop gloating about how she was top of her class on her way to graduate summa cum laude. Y/N had stepped outside wanting to enjoy all the open land Anne had. The cats happily roamed around Y/N as she settled in the grass. Y/N thought of her dad at home and what he’d have to say about the situation. He’d probably tell her to run while she could, but Y/N knew Harry was her person. Y/N laid down, closed her eyes and took in all the surrounding noise. She heard birds chirping, a purring in the distance and the rush of the wind hitting the wind chimes. It was perfect. 

There was a loud band that had Y/N sitting up in a hurry. She looked back and realized it was the back door. Anne had stepped out, Y/N could see Harry in the kitchen, hands moving rapidly, and she knew he wasn’t alone. Anne sat not to Y/N, neither of them saying a word. 

“My daughter owes you an apology.” 

“Anne–” 

She stops Y/N. “No, I raised her better than that. I’m not sure when she got so protective, but it’s clearly not for the best. Harry is nearing 30 he doesn’t need his sister looking out for him. While I’m glad they have each other, this was unnecessary. It caused a lot of hurt that should have never existed.” 

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have to talk to her if you’re not comfortable.”

Y/N didn’t know how to feel. She dreaded talking to Gemma, but Y/N knew she’d feel worse if she went home and never talked this out with her. “I’m willing. I-I might need time to forgive her.” 

Anne squeezed Y/N’s hand. “That’s perfectly alright. Now tell me about these brothers of yours.” 

Y/N spent the rest of the evening with Anne, forgetting about her problems. It isn’t until Harry called them both in for dinner that they realized they spent hours outside. 

Harry greeted her with a kiss.

Dinner went off without a hitch, the three of them sharing all kinds of stories. Mostly Harry interrupting Anne to tell her a new story about Y/N he remembered. Harry that night promised he was alright with Gemma. He was feeling hurt. Assured her he loved her, but needed time to move past it. 

Y/N woke up early the next morning and decided to go on a walk along the river. Harry told her it felt never ending. They had walked it once every day, but today she went alone, letting Harry sleep in but also have that extra time with Anne. As Y/N walked, she thought of her brothers and how they would love to be throwing rocks in the river. Y/N was sure one of them would even fall in on accident. The weather would pique her dad’s interest. He was a sunshine man. She was sure the gloomy weather would be too much for him to handle. 

Two hours later, Y/N came back and was taken aback by Gemma’s presence on the front steps of the house, holding a thermal mug. 

“Hi,” Y/N greeted. 

“Morning, nice walk?” Gemma asked. 

Small talk. It was safe. “Mhm, Harry showed me the trail he liked to walk on.” 

“Mmm…coffee?” Gemma offered.

“Uh, I’m okay,” Y/N rejected.

Gemma looked dejected, but continued on. “Do-Is it okay if we talk?”

Y/N nodded. “Sure.” 

Y/N approached Gemma sitting on the opposite end of the same step. She wouldn’t be the first to talk, but it looked like Gemma was figuring out her words. 

“I’m sorry” are Gemma’s first words. “I’m sorry talking about you behind your back, even more sorry that you overheard.” Gemma looks sincere, and Y/N nods for her to continue. “I love Harry. He’s the best brother, and a person in general. He cares so much that I fear he’s gotten screwed over so much in life because he trusts with his heart and not his head.”

Y/N frowns, because that’s one of the things she loves most about Harry. How welcoming he is with his kind nature and how much love he spreads every day whether it’s through his music or holding the door open for a stranger. It all adds up to show that he’s a person full of love.

“Those are his mistakes to make. His own hurt to go through. Life isn’t all sunshine.” Y/N tells her. 

Gemma sighs heavily. “I know. Sometimes I feel like he’s still the same kid who cried when I would go out without him.”

“That hasn’t been him for a long time.” 

“I know.”

It’s clear Gemma has something deeper than she has to figure out and talk with Harry about, but it seems that’s a bridge she’ll cross when she is ready. 

“I love Harry. I think we have a wonderful relationship.” Y/N knows Gemma might not want to hear this, but it is important he does. “Harry loves communication. I swear we’ve never had an argument that didn’t end in us making up. He gives me my space but makes sure to be near. I’m reminded of his love every second of every day, whether he’s with me or not. I’m not sure if I make him feel loved every minute, but I do my best to remind him in my actions and words. I’m big on writing notes. He’s received a few love letters. I’m sure he’d show you if you asked.” Gemma tries her best to hide her surprise, but it’s written all over her face. “I’ve only heard wonderful stories about you, Gemma. I’m sure they’re all true, but I know Harry thought we might become friends.” Y/N pauses. “Even if that doesn’t happen, I do want you to know I respect you. For however long I’m around, I know that I respect you, even if it might take some time for me to trust you.” 

Gemma has tears running down her face. “I’m sorry. I never provided you with an opportunity. I’m not sure why I didn’t. I am really sorry. Meeting the family is always hard, and I fucking ruined it.” 

“It’s not okay, but we’ll give it time. Time heals.” 

“Thank you for hearing me out.” Gemma tells her gratefully. 

Y/N smiles. “Are you joining us for breakfast? Harry promised to make lemon ricotta pancakes.” 

“I’d like that. I’ll head in soon. I want to finish my coffee.” 

Y/N heads inside, where she finds Harry at the stove wearing an apron. She wraps her arms around his waist, resting her head between his shoulder blades. 

“Morning, pretty girl.” 

Gemma looked dejected, but continued on. “Do-Is it okay if we talk?”

Y/N nodded. “Sure.” 

Y/N approached Gemma sitting on the opposite end of the same step. She wouldn’t be the first to talk, but it looked like Gemma was figuring out her words. 

“I’m sorry” are Gemma’s first words. “I’m sorry talking about you behind your back, even more sorry that you overheard.” Gemma looks sincere, and Y/N nods for her to continue. “I love Harry. He’s the best brother, and a person in general. He cares so much that I fear he’s gotten screwed over so much in life because he trusts with his heart and not his head.”

Y/N frowns, because that’s one of the things she loves most about Harry. How welcoming he is with his kind nature and how much love he spreads every day whether it’s through his music or holding the door open for a stranger. It all adds up to show that he’s a person full of love.

“Those are his mistakes to make. His own hurt to go through. Life isn’t all sunshine.” Y/N tells her. 

Gemma sighs heavily. “I know. Sometimes I feel like he’s still the same kid who cried when I would go out without him.”

“That hasn’t been him for a long time.” 

“I know.”

It’s clear Gemma has something deeper than she has to figure out and talk with Harry about, but it seems that’s a bridge she’ll cross when she is ready. 

“I love Harry. I think we have a wonderful relationship.” Y/N knows Gemma might not want to hear this, but it is important he does. “Harry loves communication. I swear we’ve never had an argument that didn’t end in us making up. He gives me my space but makes sure to be near. I’m reminded of his love every second of every day, whether he’s with me or not. I’m not sure if I make him feel loved every minute, but I do my best to remind him in my actions and words. I’m big on writing notes. He’s received a few love letters. I’m sure he’d show you if you asked.” Gemma tries her best to hide her surprise, but it’s written all over her face. “I’ve only heard wonderful stories about you, Gemma. I’m sure they’re all true, but I know Harry thought we might become friends.” Y/N pauses. “Even if that doesn’t happen, I do want you to know I respect you. For however long I’m around, I know that I respect you, even if it might take some time for me to trust you.” 

Gemma has tears running down her face. “I’m sorry. I never provided you with an opportunity. I’m not sure why I didn’t. I am really sorry. Meeting the family is always hard, and I fucking ruined it.” 

“It’s not okay, but we’ll give it time. Time heals.” 

“Thank you for hearing me out.” Gemma tells her gratefully. 

Y/N smiles. “Are you joining us for breakfast? Harry promised to make lemon ricotta pancakes.” 

“I’d like that. I’ll head in soon. I want to finish my coffee.” 

Y/N heads inside, where she finds Harry at the stove wearing an apron. She wraps her arms around his waist, resting her head between his shoulder blades. 

“Morning, pretty girl.” 

“Hi, Harry. I love you.” 

Y/N knows he’s grinning. “I love you too. Even if you left me alone this morning.” 

“I couldn’t sleep,” she defends. “You always told me a morning walk here cleared your head.” 

“And did it?” 

“Mmm…like magic.” 

“Are you okay, Lovie?” Harry turns off the stove. He turns around, setting his hands on Y/N’s waist. His hair makes her laugh as she sees it sticking in different directions. 

“We talked. She apologized. Promise I’m okay. It still hurts, but I’ll try my best to forgive her for you.” 

Harry tuts his tongue. “No, honey.” Y/N tilts her head, confused. “You don’t have to do this for me.” 

“But she’s your–”

“She’s my sister, but that doesn’t mean you have to change how you feel about me. I promise I am with you. She made a mistake, and I’ll forgive her but at my own time. You take your time as well.”

Y/N feels overwhelmed all over again because she really did get lucky with Harry. “I love you so much.”

“I love you more, my love. So much more.” 

Harry gives her a kiss. A promise that everything will be alright.

+

thank you for reading my beautiful friends! let me know your favorite parts

[rems-writing]

Mingi's Delivery Service

Pairing: non-idol!Yunho x witch!Mingi (slight mention of cat familiar!reader x Mingi [platonic] and reader with a special guest at the end)

Genre/AU: Fluff/Kiki's Delivery Service AU

Wordcount: 2,462 words

Rating: pg-13

Nets: @mirohs-aurora-society @othersideoutlawsnetwork @illusionnet

Yes I am doing a fic based loosely off of Kiki's Delivery Service. I'm quite proud of this one :)

“MASTER, YOU HAVE TO GET UP!”

Nothing. 

“MASTER~”

A low grunt was heard from the pile of blankets on the single cot.

“MINGI, GET YOUR ASS UP!” 

“OW! OK OK FINE!”

You stood there with crossed arms and a victorious smirk on your face as a huge figure emerged from the blanket pile. A tall man sat up fully and stretched, yawning as he did so. The shirt he was wearing was a tad bit small on him so when he stretched, it rose up a bit, revealing a sliver of his stomach. His bleary eyes, still laced with a bit of sleep, looked around until they landed on your form. He motioned for you to come closer to him and you obeyed, knowing he couldn’t start the day without hugging his favorite cat. You stood in between his legs and wrapped your arms around his neck while he wrapped his arms around your waist and held you close to him. The warmth of his body caused you to emit a low purr of contentment and Mingi chuckled upon hearing the sound, knowing you were comfortable in this position. You pulled away slightly and swished your tail back and forth as you stared down at your owner. 

“Morning, master!”

“Morning, little one.”

That was Mingi’s nickname for you ever since he adopted you and made you his familiar. Mingi wasn’t a powerful witch, but he certainly wasn’t normal. Ever since he discovered his powers at a young age, he’s been trying out all sorts of new things. The last thing he had learned thus far was how to ride a broomstick. 

That was his main mode of transportation, especially if he had to do deliveries. 

Oh yeah.

Mingi was a delivery man.  

Ever since you and Mingi have stumbled upon this quaint little town right next to the ocean, you’ve been helping out this local bakery run by the Jung family. Their head baker was Wooyoung. At first, Mingi only did these deliveries for free when he first offered to help. However, more and more people demanded his services and Mingi was happy to oblige while Wooyoung couldn’t be happier knowing this little (big) wizard’s powers helped him raise his sales through the roof. 

“Come on! We have to go greet Mr. Wooyoung! He’s probably throwing a hissy fit right now!”

“Relax, little one. It’s still a bit early and Woo’s bakery doesn’t open until eight. It’s only 7:30.”

You pouted and Mingi chuckled as he ruffled your hair, occasionally scratching behind the black cat ears that sat atop your head. You leaned into his touch and Mingi kissed your forehead before retracting his hand, which you protested at. Mingi smiled fondly at you before motioning you to come along so you two could get ready for the day. 

“WHERE’S THE SOAP?!”

“IT’S RIGHT BEHIND YOU!”

“DO WE STILL HAVE CONDITIONER?!”

“NO?! I DON’T THINK SO! I’LL BUY SOME LATER!”

“WHERE’S MY RED BOW?!”

“LITERALLY ON YOUR HEAD, STUPID!”

After the chaotic morning routine, you two exited your little house and went straight through the back door of the bakery. The smell of freshly baked bread and other sweet pastries filled the air and you sniffed every single scent. Despite staying here for almost months now, you could never get tired of the aroma the bakery provides. As you shifted into your cat form and curled up on Mingi’s lap, Wooyoung came barging in with flour on his face, messy hair, and flour all over his clothes even though he had an apron on. 

“MINGI! GOOD MORNING!”

“Oi! Not so loud. I’m barely waking up.”

Wooyoung giggled mischieviously and knelt down to pet you. His hand, which was a bit veiny and looked good with the black and red nail polish he had on, gently patted the top of your head before moving his fingers so he could gently scratch behind your ears. You purred in content once more, causing the man to giggle quietly and bend down so he could kiss the top of your head. When he stood up straight, you sat on your hind legs and meowed in protest at the loss of touch. You waved your paws around, wanting to be petted again, but Wooyoung shook his head. 

“Sorry, cutie. I got to serve you guys breakfast. The hag here gets grumpy if he doesn’t eat.”

“Man, shut up.”

Even though Mingi was the actual witch, Wooyoung sure knew how to laugh like one. At least he didn’t cackle. That would’ve given Mingi the ick. Wooyoung always called Mingi a hag since a lot of witches were stereotyped to be old hags with wrinkly skin, gnarly fingernails on their bony fingers, grey hair, a hunched over form covered by a black cloack, snaggly teeth, and warts all over their face. However, Mingi was far from looking like a hag. Wooyoung just loved to tease him like that. 

“BREAKFAST IS SERVED!”

Mingi received a plate full of eggs, bacon, and pancakes with coffee and orange juice on the side while you received a bowl of milk. While you leapt down from Mingi’s lap and onto the floor so you could eat, Wooyoung sat across from Mingi and showed him today’s schedule. 

“I’m on it.”

Wooyoung grinned happily at Mingi’s confirmation and left the two of you to finish eating while he tended to the customers that preferred to physically go to the bakery to pick up their orders. Once you and Mingi were finished, Mingi used his powers to put the dishes in the sink, wash them, and stack them in the dishwasher before retrieving his broom, scooping you up in his arms, and bolting out the front door so he could get started on the deliveries. 

---------------------------------------------------

“This is only the morning batch and I’m already tuckered out! You would think I’d be used to this by now, but still!”

You giggled as Mingi laid down on the grass and caught his breath. You two found a grassy hillside to relax and decompress before moving on to the next batch of deliveries. You reached into the basket and pulled out the sandwiches that Wooyoung’s mom made before handing one to Mingi. Today’s sandwich consisted of almond butter and orange marmalade. As you bit into the sandwich, you squealed in delight by how amazing it tasted. Your tail swished back and forth in excitement while Mingi watched and grinned fondly at you, taking bites of his sandwich every now and then. 

“Um… excuse me. I hope you don’t mind, but… may I sit with you guys?”

Upon hearing an unfamiliar voice, you shifted back into a cat quickly and hid behind Mingi. Mingi looked up and his breath hitched when his eyes landed on the handsome man staring down at him nervously, occasionally fidgeting with the handlebars of his bike and adjusting his glasses. He wore a bright orange and white striped shirt and his light brown hair looked so fluffy and soft. Mingi wondered what it would feel like to run his fingers through that hair. He was so lost in his daydream that you had to nudge him to answer the poor boy’s question. He snapped out of his daze and nodded rapidly. 

“Yeah sure.”

Mingi scooted to the side a bit so the man could sit next to him. He thanked Mingi shyly and looked out into the distance. Despite you not being fond of strangers, you could tell this young boy wasn’t a threat. You took the extra sandwich out of the picnic basket and walked over to the young boy before plopping it down onto his lap. 

Along with yourself. 

“Gah! Y/N! Get off! He could be allergic!”

You hissed at Mingi quietly, indicating that you got this. You turned back to the boy and pawed at his chest, wanting attention from him. The young boy giggled and started petting you. You relaxed under his touch and Mingi watched in awe at how easy you warmed up to him. 

“Aww! She’s so cute! I’m assuming she’s yours?”

“Yeah. She is. But I’m sorry if she just dropped herself onto you without warning. I didn’t know if you were allergic or not.”

“It’s ok. You don’t see me breaking out in hives or coughing violently right?”

The boy’s teasing tone made Mingi relax, but his face was dusted with pink from embarrassment. If you were human, you would laugh at his expense. You climbed the boy’s body and perched yourself onto his shoulder, nuzzling his cheek before jumping off and landing right on Mingi’s shoulder. The witch grabbed you and kept you trapped in his arms before looking back up at the boy. 

“I’m Mingi by the way. I run a delivery service for Wooyoung’s bakery.”

The boy shyly took Mingi’s hand and shook it before retracting just as quickly. A smile was on his face and Mingi melted at the sight. Now he was thinking of ways to make the boy smile every day. 

“Nice to meet you. I’m Yunho.”

The two exchanged pleasantries and soon talked for a few hours before bidding goodbye. As Mingi mounted his broomstick, he gave Yunho one last look before flying off into the air so he could finish the last batch of deliveries. 

---------------------------------------------------

“I’m not going in there!”

“Yes you are!”

“No I’m not!”

“YES YOU ARE!”

“NO I’M NOT!” 

“YES YOU ARE!”

Patrons of a small restaurant looked towards the front entrance as you dragged your master inside. Long story short, Yunho asked out Mingi on a date, Mingi said yes, and on the actual date day, which was right now, Mingi decided to back out at the last minute due to his nerves. Feeling tired of his yearning and longing for the slightly taller boy, you downed a strength potion and dragged him to this place. You scouted the area and spotted Yunho looking out the view through the window before dragging the witch once more and plopping his heavy body onto the seat across from Yunho before quickly turning into a cat and running out the side door of the restaurant. 

“Hey! You made it!”

Mingi chuckled nervously as he straightened himself out, but grew stiff as Yunho grabbed his hands. He relaxed under the older boy’s touch and smiled dopily. On the other hand, you were watching from afar, making sure that this date doesn’t end in disaster. 

“Did I arrive late?”

“No no! You made it on time!”

Soon, the date proceeded. You watched with astonishment as Mingi impressed Yunho with his witchy powers and even pulled some small pranks on a few servers. They soon fell into conversation and they talked for hours on end until it was closing time. Yunho paid the bill and led Mingi out of the restaurant so the two could go on a romantic walk under the moonlight. You trailed behind so you could keep an eye on Mingi. You looked up to the sky and felt relieved when it wasn’t a full moon yet. 

During a full moon, Mingi’s powers went haywire. 

After the two stopped at the same hillside where they first met, they laid beside each other in a comfortable silence whilst staring up at the night sky filled with many shining stars. Yunho pointed out a few constellations here and there and Mingi told him the history about them, impressing the boy with his astrological knowledge. Yunho then pointed out a shooting star and begged Mingi to make a wish, to which the witch complied. After Mingi made his wish, he turned so he could tell Yunho to do the same. 

Only to end up kissing him since he was so close to him. 

Sparks of electricity shot out from Mingi’s fingertips and into the night sky, creating fireworks that held beautiful colors and made the sky appear brighter than before. You smiled as Yunho and Mingi shared their first kiss and decided to give them some privacy. You went back into town and shifted into human form before you looked up to admire the lit-up sky. 

‘Hopefully, Master doesn’t burn the grass since his palm is flat on the ground. Then again, he’s a witch experiencing love for the first time so yeah. I’m definitely going to tease him though when he gets home.’

As you made your way back home, you accidentally bumped into someone. Your face rammed into his chest and you fell back. You would’ve hit the ground if strong arms didn’t wrap around your waist. You felt something brush against you and you looked down to see a fluffy white tail swishing against your own. You then looked up to see two white cat ears sitting atop a head full of black hair. Finally, you looked down to see this hybrid’s face. 

If you had magic, electric sparks would definitely shoot out your fingertips as well. 

The man’s face was structured to perfection. Warm brown eyes filled with worry, a cute nose, lips that were pursed to match his worrisome eyes, and a sharp jawline. His eyes scrutinized you, seeing if you were hurt anywhere. You weren’t. But he still had to ask. 

“Are you ok, kitty?”

His voice was airy and warm, but his tone was filled with concern. You nodded slowly and he smiled in relief. That smile revealed a dimple he had and you found it endearing when his smile became so big that his eyes formed crescents. 

Just like your master’s. 

You then got a good look at the rest of his body. He was wearing a baggy white sweater  that showed off bits of his collarbone, blue jeans that fit his legs well, and brown work boots. When your hands were on his chest earlier, you knew that it was broad. As you pulled away, your hands accidentally trailed down towards his waist, which was slim. You took a good look at his shoulders and noticed that they were broad and wide. 

‘How was he a cat hybrid?!’

“I’M Y/N! PLEASED TO MEET YOU!”

You cringed at the way your voice sounded loud and way too eager. However, the hybrid didn’t seem to mind as he took your hand in his and firmly shook it. He then pulled you towards him again, smirking at the way you yelped in surprise. He caressed your cheek with his ring clad hand (he had on a singular gold band on his index finger) while he leaned in to kiss your other cheek. Usually, you would cringe at such affection (aside from your master and Wooyoung of course), but for some reason, you wanted him to keep doing that. As he pulled away, he smiled softly. 

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m San.”

[matter-for-mass]

incredibly funny that sales for the uhc shooter’s jacket IMMEDIATELY went through the roof

and

and

and the funniest possible coupon code

[flamingspud]

Two-Stick Horse

All Grian wanted was his Christmas bonus.

Here’s my fic for @molecularmagician for the Secret Santa! So, hope you enjoy!

fic below

1,287 words

It had all started in Cub's office.

"Hello Grian," he greeted. He was in his manager's uniform, and atop his head was a set of antlers. Very festive.

"You know why you're here."

"I do."

He was here to discuss his Christmas bonus, which, not to toot his own horn or anything, he was sure he'd get.

Did he work hard? Not really. Did he bring anything to the Permit Office? I mean, come on, he built the place! But other than that no, he did not bring anything to the table.

However he was the only employee, (unless you counted the Poe Poe) and he was quite entertaining. 

"Well, unfortunately there have been some… budget cuts, so now the suits up top need me to decide who to give their bonuses to and who not to."

"…I'll be getting mine though, right?" Grian asked, doubt slowly creeping in like skulk.

Cub let out a long exhale. "Well that's the thing, Grian. You haven't reached your sales quota this year."

Grian's eyes went wide, filled with desperation. "Cub, please! You know me, I'm here for most of my shifts! And-"

Cub put up a hand to stop Grian's ramble. "I know. That's why I want to give you one last chance-" Cub pushed a button that was hidden under his desk, and outside the window a horse dropped down, dangling there thanks to a lead that was presumably attached to the roof somewhere- "if you can sell this reindeer for fifteen diamonds, you'll get your bonus."

Grian had so many questions. "Reindeer?-" he noticed the two sticks taped to its head- "that's, um- we sell reindeers?"

Cub pointed to a permit on the wall behind Grian; Reindeer Permit. Bold choice making it a diamond tier, but go figure. 

"We do now."

"Right..."

That conversation was what led Grian to be standing outside of the Permit Office in an elf costume, trying to flag down Hermits as they passed by through the shopping district.

The first person who had stopped by was Cleo, curious as to why he was actually at the Permit Office for once.

"Do you want to buy a reindeer?" Grian asked, putting on his best showman's voice.

"A reindeer?" Cleo asked, an amused smile on their face.

Grian nodded. "Yup! Just fifteen diamonds!"

Cleo was quiet for a moment, looking up at the "reindeer" dangling in the air.

"That's a horse with sticks taped to its head."

"Those are its antlers! The tape's there because it, uh, hurt itself!"

Cleo turned around to her own horse, crafted some sticks and stuck them to its head. "Hey look, I have a reindeer too."

Grian blinked, before slowly lowering his head. Cleo laughed at him. 

"Well, this was fun, but I'm going to go."

"Bye Cleo…"

After Cleo, the next person to show up was Joel.

"Is the Permit Office open?" He asked hopefully.

"It is if you want to buy a reindeer for seventeen diamonds!" Grian replied, the smile evident in his voice as he teetered on the edge of laughter.

"Blummin' hell…" Joel muttered, pulling out his ender chest, "let's see…"

He rooted around for a moment, before turning to Grian. "I can give you a stack of wood."

"Get out of here!" Grian started hitting Joel.

"Ok, ok! Jeez…" Joel quickly flew away.

The rest of the day didn't bring Grian much luck either.

Zedaph had shown up, but he had been concocting a way to create real reindeer, so the horse with some sticks on its head gambit didn't work on him.

Scar had almost seemed genuinely interested in buying the creature, but the urge to put him on hold with an all new festive track was too strong, so he got fed-up and left.

And finally, Joel had returned to try and shoot the horse.

After chasing Joel away, Grian had figured his chances of getting that bonus were kaput.

That's when Bdubs showed up.

"Bdubs!" Grian called. Bdubs loved horses, he'd definitely buy the reindeer!

"Do I have a deal for you! One reindeer for twenty diamonds!" He figured he'd start high, and would either have room to negotiate down or be able to keep the change.

Bdubs looked up at the "reindeer" and gasped. "What are you doing to that horse?!"

"Huh?"

"Why do you have him so high? And did you tape sticks to its head???"

"No no no, of course not-" Grian quickly flew up to remove the tape and sticks from the horse, but accidentally misclicked. He watched as the horse fell in slow motion to the powdered-concrete ground, dropping a piece of leather after hitting the floor in a poof of smoke.

"…wanna buy a piece of leather for fifteen diamonds?"

Bdubs was in disbelief. "You- you killed it!"

"You don't have proof of that!" Was Grian's hurried response. In retrospect, it probably wasn't the best thing he could've said there.

Bdubs was shocked, affronted, horrified- 

"This is horse abuse! I'll see you in court pal!" He declared, before stomping off.

Well sugar.

———

Grian and Cub were in court. The official case was served against the Permit Office itself, and Cub had told Grian that if he went with him to court, he'd give him the bonus.

So, to court Grian went.

Things were looking pretty grim for them though, as the prosecutor was not only that, but also the judge. 

"Hermits of the audience, today we are here to put a HORSE KILLER before the court to expose his heinous actions!" Bdubs declared to the handful of hermits that sat in the audience.

"Woo!" Joel cheered, earning himself a snowball to the face.

"Allegedly!" Grian interjected.

Bdubs threw a snowball at one of the lights above his head. "Silence!"

Grian shut his mouth.

Cub raised his hand.

"Yes, Cub?" Inquired Bdubs.

Cub cleared his throat as he stood up. "I would like to say on behalf of the Permit Office, that as manager; I had no idea my employee was committing such crimes."

Gasps rang out from the people around the courtroom, Grian included. "Cub?!?!"

"I've heard enough," Bdubs said, knocking on the rest of the lights above Grian's head, "I sentence Grian to an eternity at bedrock level!"

"What?!?!" Grian thought this was an outrage. It was an accident after all!

"Be grateful, I went easy on you," Bdubs spat.

Grian's pleas fell on deaf ears as he was dragged away.

———

It had been a few days since Grian was sentenced, and he was beginning to miss sunlight. And flying! There was no room down at bedrock to fly, just the space he dug out for himself.

Cub did inform him that he had left the bonus in his base, but there wasn't really a point anymore.

He was about to dig another room for himself when he heard explosions. He looked up just in time to see someone blow a hole through the roof and drop down.

"What the-"

"There is no time," Doc, who had come down in some sort of drilling machine, said hurriedly. He threw some rockets and an elytra at Grian.

"The Poe Poe will be here any minute, we need to go."

Grian equipped the wings, and followed Doc out of the hole. "Why are you helping me?"

Doc craned his neck back as far as he would dare while flying to look at Grian. "Let's just say that the Tall Claims Court needs to be reminded who's world they're really living in."

As they reached the surface, Grian heard Skizz and Scar's exclamations at his escape for a second before he quickly zoomed out of earshot again.

And that is the story of how Grian became a fugitive over a Christmas marketing ploy.

[sebastianswallows]

The English Client — Three

— PAIRING: Tom Riddle x F!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: The year is 1952. Tom is working for Borgin and Burkes. He is sent to Rome to acquire three ancient books of magic by any means necessary. One in particular proves challenging to reach, and the only path forward is through a pretty, young bookseller. A foreigner like him, she lives alone, obsessed with her work... until Tom comes into her life.

— WARNINGS: just Tom perving on reader

— WORDCOUNT: 2.5k

I

Tom had a number of other establishments on his list, all in further parts of the city that he hadn’t been to yet, but he decided to start the day where the previous one had ended: Casa Ur. If asked, he probably couldn’t answer why. Or perhaps he could give many answers: it was the closest of the promising ones relative to his hotel; it was in one of the oldest parts of the city; it occupied a sizable plot and seemed full from floor to roof with books… All adequate justifications in his mind.

He stepped through its oak doors — which were heavy but feeble around the hinges, windows trembling within their frames — and a bell announced him. He was struck first of all by how cold and dark it was inside. Some marvellous trick of architecture seemed to insulate the shop from what went on at its exterior. The part of him accustomed to the Slytherin common room felt right at home there. Tom hissed in pleasure.

He cast his eyes around before he took another step, and found his decision to come there thoroughly justified: shelves stocked up to the ceiling so high he had to crane his neck. They stood as tightly packed as could be, their covers with a sturdy sheen to them that wasn’t seen in modern books. If there were forgeries among them, they were well concealed. Smaller editions were tucked wherever a space could be found on top of bigger volumes. Some larger books, so big the shelves wouldn’t have held them, were laid out horizontally on tables here and there. To the left, he could see a large open door that showed more of the same beyond it. To the right, a crimson curtain — probably the clerk’s office.

There was something to see everywhere. In the vitrines were all manner of assorted trinkets, old photographs and jewels and medals, the leftovers of nobility. Against the walls, tall paintings of ruins, fortresses, and kings. A phonograph held pride of place on a pedestal between two lamps, and crystal chandeliers hung over everything, unlit yet still silently shining.

And in the middle of it, her.

The clerk was a woman, a prim and pretty figure with her hair pinned up, her body fastened in a pale grey suit. Her pointy shoes were fixed to the floor in a half-abandoned step. She stood before her desk like a rabbit surprised outside its burrow. If he had any self-awareness, Tom would have noted that she looked at him in much the same way as he looked at the books.

“Buongiorno,” said Tom tentatively. “Cerco un libro.”

“Buongiorno,” she said, smiling instantly. “And erm, it’s alright, we can speak in English.”

“Ah. Is it that obvious?”

Her cheeks filled with a teasing smile, and she eyed him knowingly. If it wasn’t his accent, his complexion certainly gave him away.

“Well, it takes one to know one, I suppose,” she said.

Tom hummed and looked her up and down once more.

“So, what book are you looking for?”

“What do you have?”

“Books on a wide range of topics, from gothic novels to books of hours, and the largest collection of incunabula for sale in Rome. We keep only the rarest, the oldest editions,” she said with a measure of pride and joy.

He stepped closer, looking more closely at the volumes on the shelves as he passed them by. She stepped forth to meet him, observing him all the while.

“I’m looking for Isis Unveiled, volumes one and two. The older the better,” he said, naming an ordinary book of esoterica off the top of his head. He wanted first to test her knowledge and the breadth of her collection.

She smiled immediately, her eyes shining.

“By Helena Blavatsky? We have her, although I’m not sure we keep any first editions here. One moment, please. I will check.”

She hardly finished saying it before she turned and stepped through that imposing door on the left.

Tom followed her at a respectable distance, hand tucked casually in his trouser pocket. The darkness and the coolth around them, the tall heavy furniture, the echoing of steps against old wood, it all made him feel so comfortable and safe. It was nothing like the cluttered mess at Borgin and Burkes, where you could hardly walk for fear of tripping over something.

He stepped through the doorway after her. A broad table dominated the centre of this new room, holding an array of decorative lamps. Ladders reached up into the darkness by the bookcases that lined the walls. She pulled one toward her.

“So if you don’t keep first editions here, where do you keep them?”

“It’s not that we don’t keep any firsts, just not sure if we have hers,” she said as she began to climb. “I shall take a look anyway.” It was a clever evasion, not telling him if they had any other shops, or perhaps a secret storage place somewhere.

She went up and up the rows, all unmarked in any way, with surety. Tom had to admire her familiarity with the place, her naked knowledge. He could assume by now that she’d worked there for a while, but there was no way she was the owner. Too young, and as a foreigner, she was unlikely to have inherited it.

He held the ladder for her. The higher she went, the less Tom saw of her — and the more he saw of her. Those dainty leather shoes showed their soles to him, and above, her legs stretched on. Calves flexed in their silky stockings, disappearing in the tightness of her skirt like snakes. The slit of her skirt showed a hint of the back of her thighs every time she took a step upward, and then hid it again. It was the most cruel sort of striptease, and Tom felt its effects pool warmly at the centre of his abdomen.

“Nineteen twenty-one,” she said.

“What?”

“Our oldest edition. Is that good enough?”

“I’m… not sure. May I see it?”

She pulled out the first volume and gingerly climbed down with it until she was a few steps above the floor, and from there bent and handed it to Tom. He was close enough to feel the scent of the back of her knees. Dust and sweat and bergamot, delicious flesh.

“Ahem, thank you,” he said, parting the pages. He caught in passing the glimpse of a ring on her finger, a heavy signet carved into carnelian. It took a few moments for his mind to catch up on what he was reading. “This is in French,” he frowned.

“It’s the oldest of hers we have,” she shrugged, holding onto the railing like a wild nymph. “We have other books of hers if you prefer. I saw a copy of The Voice of the Silence, first edition, 1889.”

Tom hummed thoughtfully as he looked into her eyes. She squirmed at the attention.

“There are a few other places that might have it,” she said, twisting the tip of her shoe against the steps playfully. “But I’m not sure if they take just any clients. Most first editions of such authors are in private collections.”

“You know that for a fact?”

“I do.”

Tom smiled and brought the book closer for his inspection. His fingertips caressed the cover, testing its make. The pages were thick, the writing clear. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the crisp scent, then held several pages in his hand and slowly let them cascade from beneath his thumb, his ear held close.

“It’s not a forgery,” she giggled, realising what he was doing.

“Just checking,” Tom smiled up at her. He held onto the ladder with one hand and gave her back the book. “Thank you.”

She nodded and climbed back, putting it in its place.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t satisfy,” she said on her way up.

“You might yet,” he purred, letting his eyes wander. “A list of those other bookshops might be handy.”

She gazed down at him, and even in the darkness of her high perch he could tell that she was blushing. She held her legs closer together as she climbed back down.

“I never said I could tell you who they were,” she teased once she stood before him, brushing a stray curl away with the back of her hand. “Most are quite exclusive.”

Tom looked into her eyes a moment, a cold smile on his face. It made her tense. With the quick prodding of Legilimency, he could tell that she wasn’t saying something untrue, but there was slightly more to it — more than even she was privy to. Shadows in her knowledge that she was well aware of.

“Quite unfair,” he said.

“It’s a small circle, Mr…”

“Riddle. Tom Riddle.”

“Well, Mr. Riddle, could I have your number?”

“What?”

“In case I find that book you’re looking for. I will make some inquiries.”

“Ah, well… I’m staying at the Gallienus, for now.”

She nodded and walked past him, going out of the room and toward her writing desk. Tom followed.

He looked once more around at the books. So many of them… And she seemed to know where each author was by heart. It must’ve been a challenge to work in a place like that if she was telling the truth and these groups were more ‘exclusive’. He doubted any real witchcraft took place in any of them, but it seemed that muggles still had their pride. His glance slid back to her, just enough to catch her bent over for a second as she wrote his hotel down.

“Is there anything else I could help you with?” she asked, straightening herself — only to catch him staring. She glared.

“Not right now,” Tom smiled, then turned to leave. “Thank you.”

He could feel her eyes at the back of his neck, a trembling chill while the sun beat against his face as he approached the door. With a quick breath and a pause, he pivoted to look at her again.

“Oh yes, there was something I wanted to ask.”

She held his gaze, her eyes inscrutable.

“I’m also looking for something a little older. Say, from around 1650?”

“We have even older than that.”

“Specifically, something by Aristide Torchia.”

“Most of his works were burned by the Holy Inquisition...”

“So you don’t have anything by him? Nor any of his… friends?”

“Torchia didn’t have any friends,” she chuckled.

“He had at least one,” Tom shrugged.

She smiled slowly, knowingly. He liked that look on her. “Why do you ask?”

“Just out of curiosity, really,” Tom shrugged. “I know it is being sought after in France by some collectors. Thought I might as try my luck. But, as you say, it’s a long shot.”

“If I come across it,” she said, lifting the note with his hotel up.

“Yes, you know where to find me,” Tom smirked. “Well, arrivederci.”

“Arrivederci, signor Riddle.”

II

Tom was at his third coffee, another one of the sacrifices he had to make for Borgin. The buzzing of couples and merchants and passing Vespas cluttered what would have been a serene scenery of tall white statutes, proud buildings, crumbling columns holding it all together. An inspiring sight even for a cynic like him.

But he was there with a purpose.

She left work at half past five, closing the door behind her and locking it in several places. The windows had only darkness behind them then, the writing on them faded gold. Tom abandoned his cold coffee and threw a few lire on the table. He got up to pursue her. Dipping between narrow buildings, he quickly pulled his wand out and obscured himself. A part of him wanted her to see him, to know that he was there, but perhaps they could play cat and mouse a little later.

Her grey figure swayed left and right, quick steps through the alley, high heels hitting the cobblestones leaving small echoes behind. Fully clothed, even in this weather, the nape of her neck was the only naked skin he could see. The sheer stockings didn’t count; they obscured the flesh of her calves in a honeyed gauze that, although sweet, didn’t satisfy him. Her pinned hair sat tightly at the crown of her head, a few loose curls trembling in the breeze.

He walked with her, waited with her, sat with her, all of it just a few paces away. It was a novel experience, to walk with someone like that. It was different than with Clement, who was like a fly he couldn’t swat. This felt like… companionship. Like a silent friendship the sort of which he hadn’t had since childhood, if ever.

She was different here from how she was when they met face to face. Staring out of invisible eyes, Tom noticed just how drained she looked, how exhausted, almost angry. Her lips were pulled into a low and dour line, her brows were slightly furrowed, and her eyes had a delicate sadness about them the sort he’d only read about in books. Had her good cheer at seeing him all been just an act? Perhaps she was just that talented a saleswoman… There was, after all, a certain amount of emotional labour involved in any client-facing job. Tom knew all about it.

He got to see a new side of Rome while travelling with her. Less touristy, more quotidian, more quiet — or perhaps the better word was ‘dull’. The rickety tram she took, the piss-stained streets she walked, the crumbling building she lived in, were not the worst Tom had ever seen… But if he was being honest, he’d expected better. There was something of Knockturn Alley about the place.

From the sparkling piazza surrounded by monuments and statues like a quiet lake between the mountains, the architecture contracted and modernised. A strange counterpose of industry and squalor grew — closer and closer together. Façades cracking, windows smogged, the scent of animal blood in the air. Tom could no longer point out where the claustrophobic feeling started, but he was in the vortex of it by the time he stood outside her window.

There was a cellar bar just across the street, and patrons had already begun to sing inside. Their warbled voices reached him like cries from hell. Beside it, an empty restaurant that advertised a hostel on the upper floor. A bit further on the street, an old bookshop, boarded up. Pigeons flew in flocks overhead and between the windows of other flats above hung wires heavy with white laundry.

Everything seemed very… entrepreneurial. Just locals filling in the void left by an indifferent Rome. They seemed like parts of different cities, although one was merely the outgrowth of the other containing the people that fell over the sides. It was at once both loud and quiet. Filled with people, filled with nothing.

The thought of her living here made his nose curl — or maybe it was the scent of urine coming from the bar. Tom ignored the memory of his own pathetic lodgings near Borgin and Burkes.

He turned and looked around once more, and tried to remember where the tram line was.

[the-froschamethyst4]

Suit

➤ Day 7

𖤐 Pairing: Husband! Price x Wife! Reader

𖤐 Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐 Warnings: Smut, NSFW, married couple, hand job, blowjob, kissing, eating out, slightly aggressive, biting, age gap

𖤐 Summary: Price works from home, he absolutely loves it, working from home and getting a good fuck in from his wife. He was in an important meeting when his wife comes in and gives him some help since she was his ex-secretary, so, she knows his strengths and weaknesses

———————

———————

Price was getting ready for an important meeting; he was going to discuss to his employees about how the marketing is all of a sudden dropping.

He started to business after leaving the Military and so far, his sales have been through the roof but recently, they've been dropping, and he doesn't know why.

Y/n his wife sat on the couch watching TV in one of Price's t-shirts, her knees to her chest as she looked at the screen. Y/n use to Price's secretary so she knew everything and anything about him.

She was a newly fresh graduated College student and became his assistant almost right after graduating, his company is top of the line and everyone wanted to work for him, and she got to work so close with him that he fell in love with her and married her. They've been married for 5 years now.

Price didn't care if people judged them or anything, he loves Y/n even if some people don't think they should be together.

Price leaned in his chair looking at the computer screen. Price turned to his left and looked at a couple pictures of his and Y/n's wedding, Y/n looking beautiful in her wedding dress, her with a beautiful smile on and lovely red and pink roses in her hands.

Another was a little more scandalous, Y/n was on a bed on her back wearing black lacy lingerie, it was her and Price's 3-year anniversary and Y/n went to a professional photographer and took sexy photos to surprise Price with. Obviously, he loved them that he kept some in his wallet, on his nightstand next to his side of the bed and even a few on his desk, that he stares at ALL THE TIME!

Y/n knows about him having those photos scattered around the house and isn't ashamed by them but does wish he puts them somewhere else when they have guest over.

Y/n went to the kitchen and poured herself some hot water and grabbed a tea bag, she dipped it in the hot water and walked into Price's office.

Price looked up when he heard feet sticking to the hard wood floor, he saw his wife in the doorway and smiled at her.

"Honey," he coos, he smiles at her as she walked to the other side of the desk and sat on his lap. She looks at the computer seeing that he was in a meeting.

"Can they see us right now?"

"No, I told them I was going to use the restroom but really, I'm trying to solve this shit, and they can't hear us either," he says, showing her the papers of the low sales. Y/n grabbed the paper from his hand and looked at it.

Y/n use to do the paperwork before Price saw it, but now it was different, he doesn't have an assistant or secretary anymore.

Price watched her face go from excited to serious, he loved that face, it means she was ready for business. He held her waist tightly, hummed when she talked, he wasn't really listening. He then leaned close to her neck and kissed her neck.

She didn't push him away. She let him do whatever he wanted. She was just to use to him being all clingy and handsy, when they first started to date, his eyes never left her body and his hands always wanted to be touching her.

"Price," she said as he was sucking on her neck leaving a purple mark on her skin.

He just hums and keeps going.

His hands went up her shirt squeezing her, and pinching her, she lets out a soft yelp as he squeezes her. She grabbed his hands and looked over her shoulder.

"You need to focus," she said.

"No," he mumbles.

"Yes...y-you...y-you need to focus on...your m-meeting...n-not...not me," she stutters as she tried to get off and push off of him. He just held her tighter.

Price's hands then glide down her thighs squeezing them as he kissed and bit her neck. She blushes at his hands squeezing her, she places the papers done and turned to Price.

Her hands went up his arms to his shoulders, she liked the suit he was wearing, it was one handmade just for him, tailored to fit his muscles, and fit him perfectly.

Her hands went to his matching tie and pulling him close to her face, smashing her lips on his. His hands went back to roaming her body, his hands squeezed her hips and butt.

"Remember when the first week we were dating...you wanted some fun...some risky fun?"

"Yeah? What are you getting at, honey?" He asks.

"I'm getting at is...why not we do that again?" She started to slowly move off his lap down to his knees.

"Honey?"

Her hands opened his legs just slightly, her hand grabbed at his pants zipper and pulled his pants down his ankles, and she grabbed his boxers pulling them down as well.

Her hand moved up and down, he moaned at her hand doing to best work. His hips buck up in her hand, her thumb goes over his tip getting a bit of pre-cum on her thumb.

"Already?" She asks, looking up at him.

"I...I was looking at those photos you took-"

"And you got horny by those?"

"I did," he says as Y/n just giggles and playfully rolls her eyes. She leaned closer to his dick and slapping his hardened dick on her tongue and moaning before taking him whole in her mouth.

She bobs her head up and down earning a moan from him. He places his hand over his mouth and smirked at her.

"Sir, are you ready to move on?" One of his employees asked. Price groaned at being interrupted.

He unmuted himself. "Yeah, yeah, let's move on," Price said as he turned his screen back on but left himself muted.

"Should I stop-"

"Don't you dare say that, and blue ball me, you're funny," he said, bucking his hips again.

She moans around him making him lean his head back, everyone didn't notice but if they did, they'd probably think he was getting bored, not realizing he was getting sucked off by his wife.

Price grabbed a handful of her hair; she goes done a little deeper, his tip definitely hitting the thing in the back of her throat almost making her gag, but she was used to his size.

She moved back up and looked down at his dick that was just begging for her to keep going. Price groaned when her mouth wasn't around him anymore.

Price wasn't listening to his employees anymore, just watching his cute wife. She licked her lips before putting her mouth back around him.

His dick hit the back of her throat and she just went back to bobbing her head up and down. She moans and gags on his dick making him smirk. He knows he's big and he's so glad that his little wife is the only person allowed to see it and wrap around it perfectly.

She moved her mouth again and started to move her hand back up and down. He put his head back groaning and moaning.

"Sir, is everything okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine..." he says. Y/n just looked up at her husband before putting her mouth back around his dick, he bucked his hips up immediately and hitting the back of her throat. She gags on his dick making him smirk.

He grabs a handful of her hair again. She felt him twitch in her mouth, she moved her mouth and cum leaked from the corner of her mouth and cum leaked from his tip. She swallowed the cum in her mouth and licked his tip getting the rest off his tip.

She even licked his base getting the rest off. She looked up at him and smiled. He smirks and cup her chin and leaning down to kiss her lips.

He smirked and kissed her lips again. "I'll be down in a minute," he smirks. He turns off his camera, so, Y/n could leave the office. She got off the floor and kissed Price's lips.

"God, I fucking love you," he mumbles.

"I do too," she said.

She walked out of his office and shut his office door. She walked back to the kitchen to make herself something to eat along for something for Price to eat too.

----------

Price was done with the long meeting. He walks out of his office to get something to eat. He rubs the back of his neck; he was in pain from looking down so much and he needed to walk around, he hates sitting for a long time.

He walks into the kitchen and saw Y/n. She was making something; he smirks and walks around the corner. His eyes widened when he saw her in just an apron.

"Price-"

"Jesus, love," he said, moving his hand down his face.

"What? Is my apron not cute?" It was a white apron with red cherries scattered around it. It was a little apron and the end stopped at her mid-thigh.

"W-Wha-No, no, it's very cute...very, very, very cute," he smirks. "I just wasn't expecting you to...look so cute...and sexy...." he smirks.

She holds the bottom of her apron; Price could just barely see her pussy peeking out from the bottom.

"I just came down for a snack...but I think I may jump straight to dessert," he licks his lips. She just smiles knowing what he meant.

"Well then," she leans on the counter her ass out, elbows on the counter. "Eat up..." she smirks.

He licks his lips, and gets behind her, he smacks her ass earning a yelp from her. He smirks, he leaned to her shoulder and bites her shoulder earning yet another yelp and moan from her lips.

She felt him go down, his hands moved from her lower back to her butt and back of her thighs. He licks his lips and kisses her folds; she moans and moved her thighs together.

"Are you wet, love?" He teased, knowing she was.

"You already know I am," she said. He just chuckles at her.

He licks between her wet folds, she moans and brought her head down, she moans and pushed her butt out a little more.

He pushed his tongue inside of her. She moans and leans on the counter; she looked over her shoulder seeing him looking satisfied with fucking her with his tongue.

"P-Price..." she moans.

"Ssh~ love..." he says smirking.

She turns back and brought her hand behind the back of his head making him push his tongue deeper inside of her. She moans and her knees felt weak.

She almost fell but Price quickly picked her up, she whines not feeling his tongue inside of her anymore. He turns her around and put her on the counter bring her pussy to the edge of the counter. He goes back down and starts putting his tongue back inside of her.

Her feet were on his shoulders, her right hand on the back of his head and her left hand groping her left boob and moaning his name. Price's left hand grips her thigh and his right hand resting on her stomach.

"Ahh~! P-Price," she moans. She could feel herself about to cum in his mouth. He felt his tongue being squeezed by her lower half; he pulled his tongue out and saw white liquid pour out from her lower half.

He smirks and kisses her folds and licks his lips and licks her clean.

"God, you taste so good," he said licking his lips. She just moans every time, he licks her, feeling like she'll cum again if he keeps doing that. And she soon did.

"Love."

"I couldn't help it, you know what you're doing, and it felt good," she moans. He smirks before licking her again.

"O-Oh my god," she moans.

"Don't you cum again," he threatens.

"I-I can't h-help that," she moans.

He just smirks.

[mcflymemes]

SPY / ESPIONAGE PROMPTS *  assorted lines from popular spy & action films

how many times has the government betrayed you?

what the hell are you doing?

you were shot.

you're going to ruin this mission.

where'd you get a suit?

you're my bodyguard, not my business partner. just focus on guarding my body.

thanks for the ride.

tell me where the bomb is.

you're the person who caught him, aren't you?

please don't make me go through you.

the blood is on your hands.

if you were in your office right now, we'd be having this conversation face to face.

i don't trust anybody outside of this room.

hold on! how did you get in the helicopter?

i'm gonna get the detonator!

if you ever feel like you've been poisoned, chew one of these.

jesus, you're intense.

they'll kill you for giving me this.

people do all kinds of weird and amazing stuff when they are scared.

what's your source?

who paid you off?

everything you need is in there.

we prefer to keep a low profile.

did you ever choose not to?

how close are we?

my argument is not with you.

you're really good at staying alive.

stay put and secure the premises.

i told you to send me in there instead.

this is a bad idea.

why don't you come with me?

so now you're going to kill me.

how long do i have?

that is how you survive.

by the way, i can see your gun.

i pulled up my file.

i need you to untie me now.

you have no idea what you're into here.

i don't want to do this anymore.

this is where it started for me. this is where it ends.

do you know what? you play it too safe.

they found a body.

you really think you're ready for the field?

it's just a job. no hard feelings.

ten seconds or you're dead.

i think one day you will understand.

how do you like my english accent?

why won't you just die?

i'll figure it out.

he drove off the roof.

he killed our man.

we're in the middle of an operation.

i sent you to be invisible.

these people will kill you if they have to.

i'm a motherfucking spy.

thanks for your weapon.

look at this. look at what they make you give.

so what's the plan? who are we meeting?

we have to stop the sale of a nuclear bomb.

sorry, the other wire.

i told you to come alone.

you haven't slept for a long time now.

there's a body in the streets.

i'm working on it!

all of the systems are state of the art.

this whole operation was a mole hunt.

nobody does the right thing.

oh, stop screaming. you loved it.

i'm jumping out a window!

you do not have the authority.

we have to find the other bomb.

why are you helping me?

everything i found out, i want to forget.

how could i forget about you?

kill everyone? that's your plan?

you start down this path, where does it end?

how long was i out?

the only person allowed in that room has to pass through a series of security checks.

i got enough trouble, okay?

put the gun down.

i knew it was going to end this way.

they knew we were coming.

if i ever feel somebody behind me, there is no measure to how fast and how hard i will bring this fight to your doorstep.

what's going on at the CIA?

i think we lost enough agents for one night.

you're a total goddamn catastrophe.

someone started this, and i'm going to find them.

you're only alive today because he didn't have the guts to kill you.

you don't understand what you're involved in.

every now and then, send up a signal. let me know you're safe.

the greater the suffering, the greater the peace.

we have to evacuate these people!

you move, you die.

i saved your ass again.

my team! my team is dead!

i tried to protect you.

perhaps we can arrange a meet.

he went out the window. why would someone do that?

i work alone, like you.

i don't think that's a decision you can make.

accept it. you've lost this one.

i heard you talking.

why do you have to make things so fucking complicated?

[fountainpenguin]

"You're on your own- So what? Have you gone blind? Have you forgotten what you have and what is yours?" (x)

---

For Sale: Bird Wings (Never Worn)

❤️ Read on AO3

💛 Complete! - 7/7 chapters - 37k words

💚 More Neighborhood Watch AU

I just finished a chill, T-rated found family 'fic from my "Life Series but it's a single timeline" AU project. Check it out!

---

Synopsis: When Grian Ties’g was 16, the last Totem of Undying in the known world swapped his soul with the Grian one universe to the left… sparing him a perma-death, but at what cost?

An overwhelmed Grian Xelqua - who did not sign up for this, thank you very much - jolts awake in a world where Red Names are no joke and stealing someone’s life is fair play.

And a very Red Tango now has a sword at his throat. ❤️

(First 1,300 words under the cut)

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For Sale: Bird Wings (Never Worn)

Those Who Came Before

🖤  🖤  ❤️

The first Totem of Undying in the Four Lands passed through the wrinkled hands of many wealthy folks in Crimson City before falling into possession of a princess who went Red young and fled her home. She kept it all her life, but when the time came to breathe her last, she unwound it from its place at her bosom and clasped it around the neck of her only son.

"I've lived enough," she simply said. "I've led so long and you've been faithful. Go now and do as you see fit with your given lives."

Steve Wandering watched his mother die as he had watched his father, burying the memories of both with shovel and silence. He'd always been a silent man. He took up his sword and from then on traveled decade after decade, sharing food with the needy and braving the hissing creatures of the night. He invented many things, discovered many treasures, and died glorious in a fight against the Dragon That Ends All.

And lived.

And lost those memories like the wind.

The second Totem of Undying in the Four Lands belonged to Alex Wolftamer in the east, who claimed to care not for the treasure passed down through her ancestral line of Wolf Kings and Queens. They had no palace, but called themselves such titles in their stand against Kingdom Crimson. Rather than flaunt that totem around her own neck, she wrapped it like a collar at the throat of her dog. Across the years, far too many people of sinister desire fought sword and pick to win her hand or win the hunting hound. It's with a shout and diamond axe that she lunged at the cloaked stranger who ventured through the valley forest. With cheery, bellyaching laugh, Herobrine caught her hand and spun her dangerously near the mountain drop.

"Why should I take from your beloved she-wolf?" he asked, and dangled a totem from his own wrist where she could see. "I've already got one. I did not come to take what loved ones gave unto you, but to inquire of your wisdom… for I have no one I love as much as you care for your dear wolf. I am but a cowardly man who's worn the totem for himself for security and peace. I cannot imagine surrendering it. Tell me, warrior… How did you find such inner peace?"

"Who says I have?"

"What ails you, then?"

"I fear the encroach of the Red Army. Their farms extend ever nearer to our forests. Their high-ranking officers, bearing the Hand mark upon their chests, come demanding tribute and insist we raise their banner. So many from our village have sought the safety of their walls. I wish for nothing but food for my dogs, repairs for my roof, and safe passage through the land."

"Ah… What have you done to incite their displeasure?"

"I haven't raised hand against them unless they've come directly in conflict with me."

"How frequent are their conflicts?"

"They've claimed our cows. They flood the roads to market with lava and have taken two lives- nearly three. They harass the trades I make with my own neighbors of my own free will."

"Let us go secretly, then, and burn the walls that have reached your valley's edge."

They married two years later, and it was four after that that Alex fell from a great height, one arm wrapped around her canine companion and the other reaching for a husband who lunged and missed her hand vanishing from the cliff. Alex hit the ground a block away from the rushing river that saved her dog.

And lived.

And lost those memories like rain. Not even the dog recognized her then, growling and nipping when Alex rose to her feet, and Snowflake followed Herobrine when they parted ways. They say he never took Snowflake's totem from her collar, but that Snowflake wriggled out of it the day after Alex died, took the chain in her teeth, and presented it to him with grief in her dark eyes. It may be just a story - a personification of a ragged beast - but it's a prettier tale than the alternative way this tale could end.

That third Totem of Undying, the one that Herobrine Mapcrafter wore on his wrist for much of his life, originated from the North. It tumbled through the hands of wizards and they say Herobrine was gifted it for his proven mastery in breaching the Nether dimension- the secrets of which had only been held by the Westlands until now.

Prior his apprenticeship beneath the wizards' eyes, he'd been raised a cartographer. Following the death of Alex, he took up mapmaking again with Snowflake by his side. He entered the Nether dimension for what he knew would be his final time. They never came out again and no record survives depicting full details. People speak often that he perhaps saved a community of Netherborn folks from a hissing, snarling Wither Boss that clawed its way out of the ground. Others whisper he released that Wither himself out of grief and wished for death. Witnesses claim he leapt before the beast, taking the hit on Snowflake's behalf.

And lived.

And lost those memories like they'd been scorched alive. They say he went mad, never the same again. Some claim they've seen Snowflake's white fur dashing through the Nether even now, her howl weeping for her masters and the moon and the feel of grass beneath her paws.

The last Totem of Undying in the Four Lands (rumor claimed) lay hidden in the Southlands. For three decades since the rise of the Dragon That Ends All, the unremarkable little thing drifted and tumbled and snagged or… something of the sort. Details unknown. It passed into the sewers at some undefinable point, where it floated until it didn't. It caught and clung to the sewer's edge year after year after year.

There it stayed until a ragtag tangle of friends - a trio - sought shelter in the tunnels after their brotherhood of Bad Boys split and turned against each other. They trekked without hesitation into the grime, for they were Red of name and disgust could graze them not. The youngest, with his gray and yellow wings, sat down near the entrance to clean an open wound. The eldest began to organize their meager food supply. The middle child, aged only 16, waded deeper through the passageway, wandering with little purpose but to scout for things to have; things to take. Red Lives, as a rule, are very, very greedy.

The totem lasted exactly 4 minutes and 36 seconds in Grian Ties'g's possession. He found it tangled among the filth and wasted no time taking it for himself. To prevent his fellow Bad Boys from sniping it away, he scrambled up a dirty shaft to the surface like an eel gifted flight. His wings were soaked from sewage water, so he did not fly. He bolted across the open field, laughing like a madman.

"Yes! YESSSS!"

His foot crossed a boundary line he never could have seen. Grian charged straight into a shrieker trap laced with TNT. Set them all off. He died to the gasping cheers of a Red who'd only just finished all the set-up. The last thing he ever heard was the "OH-hoh-hoh-ohhh!" of a shrieking onlooker. He blew up instantly, scarlet feathers and blobs of purple soul energy scattered in all directions. The central core melted free from flesh and dribbled to the ground in a gooey heap.

In a word? Perma-killed. The totem vaporized before anyone ever confirmed he had it, so people seek it in the Southlands even now (It might be right here; it's been hiding right here).

This story is not about that Grian. Not anymore. It's about the one who lived… whose memories do not match this world at all.

[ Full 'fic up on AO3 ]

[gale-gentlepenguin]

ML What if

(What if the cataclysm killed faster.)

-So as known, in the episode destruction, in order to escape. Gabriel took a cataclysm to the arm in order to get out of a trap.

-But what if the cataclysm was more potent than we believed.

-Gabriel’s plan for utilizing all of the miraculous… he would never be able to see it through.

-Gabriel pleaded with Nathalie to take part as he was dying faster then anticipated. Take over as monarch. But she refused.

-Desperate, Gabriel made a deal with Tomoe. He would give her whatever she asked, in exchange for achieving his goal.

-Tomoe agreed.

-Gabriel made two conditions. 1. That Adrien never learns what really happened to him. 2. That Tomoe uses the wish to bring the Agreste family back.

-Tomoe took the butterfly. Transforming into Kōgōchō

-Tomoe planned on freezing Gabriel’s body but with the rate the cataclysm was going, there would be nothing to preserve.

-Gabriel didn’t want his son to see him die. So he decided to orchestrate a different means.

-He took a flight to America. But a malfunction occurred and the plane went down. Gabriel assured to tell his son he loved him before leaving. He also gave Nathalie the other ring having her swear to watch over him.

-With that, Gabriel Agreste Disappeared just as the Alliance Rings were made. Gabriel’s disappearance made sales of Alliance sore through the roof.

-No funeral was held as he was deemed missing not dead.

-Chat noir asked Ladybug if they could look. Which Ladybug complied. (Both wanting to save Mr.Agreste)

-But despite their best efforts, they couldn’t find anything.

-Marinette did her best to comfort Adrien, even with how weird she has been with him. It was helpful. Adrien also refused to give up hope.

-But it wasn’t long until An akuma appeared. Now giving akuma new powers. But something was different. The Akuma didn’t call their boss monarch. Did he go through another name change?

[tellmealovestory]

Haunted

Summary: An afternoon walk on a crisp fall day leads to story time.

Warnings: 1 line of suggestive dialogue and a few curse words.

Spooktober Masterlist

In your experience the disadvantages outweighed the advantages to living in a small town. 

Small town living involved too few places to shop or eat. The same familiar faces you’ve known and seen since you were a child. Everyone knows your business and secrets. 

But the one thing you loved about small town life was the way everyone went all out decorating for the holidays.

Once the leaves started to change from bright green to burnt orange and ruby red and golden yellow the pumpkins started to come out. On display in big cardboard boxes at the grocery stores for sale and sitting in trailers on the edge of town fresh from the farmers own patches.

Cutout bats and witches hats dotted store windows and the shelves were overfilled with bags of chocolates and suckers. Orange, green and purple pumpkin pails for trick or treating came out as did the halloween costumes ranging from the cute to the downright scary. 

You loved getting bundled up in heavy sweaters and scarves, boots and plaid jackets as you strolled through the town you’ve called home since you were born, leaves crunching beneath your feet, a hot cup of coffee with a little cinnamon sprinkled on top for that extra fall feeling. 

That’s what you and Eddie found yourselves doing one afternoon. The sun was bright and golden, warming your chilled skin as you held his hand and leisurely wandered through the neighborhoods looking at the decorations of each house as you did. 

Conversation was light, but every few seconds he squeezed your hand and you rewarded him with a wide smile. 

Reaching the edge of town after a bit of time you stopped to retie your boot laces that had come undone when Eddie broke the silence. 

“Fucking hate this house. Gives me the creeps every time I see it.” 

You glanced up first at Eddie and then at the house. 

It didn’t look familiar, but you were sure you must have driven or walked past it at least a few times in your life. 

It was the kind of place that you would have remembered. 

A brown fence wrapped around the property with planks of wood missing on about half of it. A crudely written no trespassing sign was painted in what you hoped was red paint and not blood dripped down on certain letters making it appear more sinister than it should.

The grass was overgrown, weeds sprouting up and you wondered why the city hadn’t come to cut it down when the house appeared to be empty. Your gaze traveled up to the porch and even on the sidewalk you could see huge chunks of wood missing, a wide empty crater that made you wonder how many thrill seekers had tripped over it or ended up in the middle while eagerly exploring or fleeing the house.

Some of the windows were broken, a few boarded up with sun faded planks of wood in a criss cross pattern. The windows that were still intact had dull colored curtains still hung up and a few swayed as if someone was standing behind them and moving them. 

There was a hole in the roof and you wrinkled your nose thinking of how much rain and snow must come in during the seasons and how the place must reek of mold with rotten floorboards and how it must be a haven for mice and rats and bats. 

Standing up you shivered despite the lack of a breeze. There was something unsettling about the house. Eddie rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet before changing to bouncing on them. He looked so much like a kid who had a secret he was dying to tell someone and you found it kind of cute. 

“Okay,” you said, dragging the syllables of that word out as you brought your coffee cup up to your lips. “Spill it. What’s the deal with the house?” 

Eddie let out a whoosh of air as if keeping silent had been killing him while you took it all in.

“It’s haunted as shit.” 

“That so?” 

“Oh yeah.” He paused to join you as you booth took in the decrepit house. His eyes took on a faraway look as he began to launch into his story of the haunted as shit house as he so eloquently put it only seconds ago. 

“When I was a kid I broke into it.” 

You snorted because somehow that didn’t surprise you. His gaze slid to yours, a sheepish grin on his face and he shrugged his shoulders seeming to say yeah, would you expect anything less from me?

“Wasn’t a dare or anything like that. Just bored one day. Place is weird as shit. All the furniture is still inside covered with sheets. Peaked under it outta curiosity and it’s still in mint condition, not a speck of dust on it.” 

It was hard to reconcile that image with the dilapidated house you stood in front of.

“Rest of the house is full of dust though,” he continued. “Stairs creak like you wouldn’t believe. Even more than my bed when I’m fuck-”

“Eddie!” you cut off with a laugh much to his disappointment. 

“Anyways,” he said, following your lead and dragging out the syllables of that word. “After I finished exploring downstairs I went upstairs to see what it was like. No furniture, but it was freezing. Went to that window right there.” He pointed to the right side of the house, the windows on the second floor where the curtains were still fluttering as if there was a fan on. 

He paused and you weren’t sure if it was for dramatic effect or because he too was starting to get freaked out by this story and this house. 

“Looked out at the yard for a few minutes and when I turned around there was this old lady standing in the doorway. ‘Cept she wasn’t solid like us. I could see right through her to the wall.” 

Goosebumps popped up on your arms through your thick wool sweater and instinct was telling you it was time to go while common sense was trying to poke holes in his story to discover the truth. But he wasn’t done yet.

“Thought at first it was my imagination. Swear I wasn’t high at the time,” he added quickly as if he knew that was going to be your next question. 

“So what did you do? After you saw her standing there?” 

Eddie’s cheeks turned pastel pink and you were pretty sure it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him blush before. He ducked his head down as if embarrassed by what took place in the next part of the story. 

“Do what I always do. Ran away. Got the fuck out of there.” He laughed a little, but there was little humor in it. Rubbing the back of his neck he glanced up at the house again before turning to you. There was no sparkle in his eyes, no hint of that familiar smirk on his lips letting you know he was about to tell you a tall tale, his shoulders were tense, hunched in even as if all these years later that day was still haunting him. 

“Have you ever been back?” You asked softly, already thinking you knew the answer to that question.

He shook his head, curls dancing along his still pastel pink cheeks. 

“Naw. Try to avoid this part of town.” 

“I’ve lived here my whole life,” you started as you slipped your hand into Eddie’s and turned around to head back to civilization and non-haunted houses. “I don’t know how I’ve never heard any rumors about that house or even remember seeing it.” 

Eddie shrugged and allowed you to pull him away. With your backs to the house and conversation turning to lighter topics the curtains that had been fluttering parted to show an old woman standing at the window wearing a faded white nightgown watching you leave. 

[oh-a-very-toxic-octopus]

Stress is a fucking tyrant. Cold sweating all the time. Can't really make myself eat. Don't think I've slept more than three hours a night for the past almost two weeks. Every night is a fun sequence of dozing a bit -> waking up -> checking my phone clock -> half an hour has passed since I last checked.

It's just been a shitty month, I tell myself, but it's a long-term pattern too. And first world middle class problems. Come the fuck on, me.

I'm in the midst of pulling together the money to buy half of the chapel from my partner as he can't afford the burden anymore, it sucks not being 50-50 on it, and changes to capital gains tax could annihilate our position on the housing ladder if we're not proactive.

I'm short exactly the amount I lump-paid into our mortgage when the rates went up this time last year, because of course I am.

Trying to purge-sell everything I can to make it up, but those are all little shots of £10–50 here and there to the point where they almost feel like a waste of time. Maybe they are, idk, I can add things to eBay while I'm doing other chores so it doesn't feel like a phenomenal timesink, but fundamentally I should be putting all my braincells into getting a second job.

Which I've been putting off forever — I went to a four-day work week last year because I wasn't coping anymore. Had the intention of starting a small business to mix things up, but that time has been consumed by house repairs, vehicle repairs, vehicle sales, family shit. And lbr, I don't want to go back to work, so I'm not trying hard enough. Gotta get my act together. Pick some kind of job and do it. Immediately. 💀

But yeah. The car goes in spring and my half will add another £2–3k to my chapel pot. Only we've been looking into replacements and they're all set to depreciate in a way we've never had to budget for before. The Ranger was a strange COVID fluke that will never happen again. Before we had that, we bought the Combo for £6k and expected it to lose £2k over our period of ownership. COVID actually lifted the sale price to £7.5k.

I look at those strokes of luck and realise they're how I've amassed enough to be within spitting distance of buying the chapel, not any personal budgeting successes or hard work, and so EVEN THE LUCKY THINGS become stressors.

Last night a bit of decorative wood trim fell off the chapel. We fixed and repainted some rotten window trim last year, but couldn't reach the roof and put it off. So that's a chore for this coming year. Fingers crossed the roof doesn't cave in in the meantime. We live just down the road from an obnoxious gossipy village who will absolutely talk about this and whatever method we use to fix it. Jim keeps reading their toxic little FB posts waiting for us to become the topic of conversation. It's his personal doomscrolling addiction.

He's been pretty depressed since his degree ended and has been pushing me a bit to Get Prettier. This is very out of character for him, and he walks a lot of it back when he's feeling better and was very very good at helping me through some shopping shit I couldn't have dealt with without him, but the comments still stick in my head. I know they don't sprout from nothing.

I'm conscious I have a massive chip in my shoulder about fashion and beauty so I'm not entirely against repairing some of that, but fuck, I hate it so much. Shopping is the activity that first made me understand what people meant when they used the word triggered. I read people's Reddit posts about bras that fit and what slip to buy for a knit dress and how to puzzle out your personal colour season and I want to blow my brains out. This is invented crap for shallow people but it matters, somehow it has to matter TO ME. Jim's like hey, I know as a tomboy you never learnt to do makeup but there are so many YT tutorials around now that you're barely at a disadvantage! And I'm like bro pls understand that makeup looks like shit to me. I watch the videos & I'm watching a good-looking woman make herself look shit. And I have to copy that?

No. Makeup is not happening, but I'm trying to tackle the skincare and the nailcare and some reworking of my personal style.

The timing on this is horrific, however. Imagine us having these huge discussions about money and wasting our lives and stress-related health complaints and pensions and our parents' growing health concerns and me needing a job and the chapel needing repairs and who shoulders the mental load. And then I'm all ooh oopsie that's my exfoliation alarm hehe lemme go do that and then slap snail mucus on my face. Fucking kill me.

A lot of this is because he asked me to dress up for his graduation, so I've gotta act sane and not make it all about me me me and my apparently CPTSD-grade insanity/fury because it's his big event and I'm hugely fuckin proud of him for getting a first and earning it so decisively.

Anyway my mum had a huge breakdown earlier this year that I had to help her through. Honestly thought she might off herself. I went up to stay for a week and cleaned her house and fed her and got her onto new meds. When she first retired in 2020 she planned to move but COVID fucked that up in so many ways. Now she's trapped in that house, which is too old and huge and high maintenance for her, and sits on a hill so steep she cannot climb back up if she goes out for a walk. It's a constant source of stress and something of a prison for her. Her financial manager retired and let her pension payments lapse, too, so suddenly she had to sort all that out, and she's not financially literate at all so she passed it to me.

Her financial advisor did not grow her money at all. He had it from 2011 and it lost £50k in that time. £300k if you factor in what it should have made if she'd stuck it in a standard tracker account. I'm trying to sort out her will and important shit like power of attorney and what she wants us to do in various situations and she's all well as I have so much money I'll get a nurse to visit! And I have to tell her that's not possible. She can safely take £9k a year and that will see her through to ninety, but there isn't anything else. She needs to downsize the house and use that money to secure herself.

Naturally this means she keeps turning on me as the harbinger of doom. I'm trying to get her pension reinvested in better funds and split a portion of it off so she's better diversified/less exposed to what is frankly a terrifying market, and she's mad because I Sound Like My Father when I suggest she reduces her drawdown by whatever she can afford. Just for now. Leave as much in there as possible for as long as possible to maximise compound interest, pick up the slack.

She has a sick cat. He's costing £90 a month in meds + he needs regular work that ranges from £300-£700 each time. She won't reduce her drawdown amount because she wants money to pay for him. Don't I understand she WON'T be the kind of person who KILLS a cat for MONEY REASONS?

I note I made a mistake once on a topic like this one. I owned one of our family cats, but he stayed with her when I moved out because he was old and happy there. When his kidneys failed, we discussed over the phone what we should do. We agreed we'd put him down. I waited until the end of the working week to travel up there. When I arrived, I discovered she'd independently decided to try to save him and had him at the emergency vet the entire time. As he was my cat, I paid the bill for all that + the inevitable euthanasia. It wiped out all my savings for that year.

To me, you look after your animal as best you can. But if you can't afford the treatment, you can't afford the fucking treatment. You don't torpedo your struggling finances for them. Not as an old person who refuses to lower any other outgoing, go back to work or sell a single thing on eBay to fund them.

She suggests we put his care on my credit card and she'll pay me back when she can.

I don't understand this view on money. Yes you can spread the cost of things over time. But that won't change what percentage of your yearly income can reasonably be spent on certain things (cats, holidays, shit on Amazon).

...which is again why I'm the bad guy.

I've backed off. I think at this point I've done my best to set her on her feet/help her grapple with the problem. I'd do more but she doesn't want that, so I'm stumped. I am ofc conscious that if she runs out of money and doesn't move before she's too old to move and ends up in a depression pit I will still be on the hook for that. But hey.

I'm really rambling now.

The reality is that I need to be driven and have some kind of vision to get out of my current situation and it's hard. I felt I chased what I wanted pretty decisively in my twenties, but in my thirties (I turned 35 at the start of the month) I'm realising it's all simultaneously pointless and incredibly important forever. You have Do Things to spin a narrative to yourself and others that you are a good and worthy human being with Stuff Going On. And somehow I have to Do Things for another 30-40 years, and if I slack I'll lose opportunities and lose the things I've already accumulated. Everything evaporates if you're not fucking on it all the time. Gotta challenge yourself always. But if you push your limits! You get overstressed and take psychic damage and can't be as effective moving forwards!

This has been Nyx's brunch breakdown, thank you, pls let this stop rattling around in my head and let me get some goddamn sleep now.

[pineapplefulfillseveryneed]

Sparks tour 2023 part 5: Cirque Royal, Brussels (june 20, 2023)

This was the show I was probably the most excited about out of all of them because we had the best seats in the house: front row, right in the middle! It had been the one ticket sale where I'd been super lucky, and this was going to be my final show of the tour. And truly there could not have been a better way to end the tour! (Be prepared for the most excited writeup :)) The fun already started when on our way to Brussels we came across a piano at a train station. I played my best rendition of This Town on it (which frankly isn't very good at all) and there was a woman there who wanted me to play more - we had somehow managed to come across a Sparks fan out in the wild! Once we arrived at our bnb in Brussels there was a key in the door with an Air Jordan shoe key chain attached to it. (I don't know what it is with Brussels, the stars aligned to a degree that makes a person believe in a higher power.)

The venue was quite fancy and we got to our seats to find there was no banister! We were so close we could touch the stage while remaining seated. (Some people may dream of winning the lottery, this is winning the Sparks fan lottery.) Excitement & anxiety (positive) were through the roof and one of the songs played over the sound system made me feel like punching a hole in the wall XD Sarah shazamed a few songs and the one that got me the most was Fahrenheit 451: The Nightmare by Bernard Herrman (here's a link). The other song Sarah looked up was Salaambo's Aria. (I am very happy to have made a video of the hall before the show because it makes me feel all those feelings of being there again.) To our right was a young fan and to our left were two of our friends, the company could not have been better and we were going to have an extremely strong front row game!

Mr.B The Gentleman Rhymer

Some lights in the hall went on and they lit up the front row, me and Sarah in our giddiness were joking to each other that the light was especially for us and we were giggling about it to then realise Mr. B was standing right in front of us hahaha woops XD (oh no.) We quickly made up for this by applauding and cheering. It really was very confusing as no one knew what time things were going to start this evening and unfortunately this meant there weren't an awful lot of people in the hall. It was shockingly empty when I looked around. Mr.B was in top form though! At the end of his set we gave him a two-person standing ovation :) I am still so happy that he was the opening act for the European shows!

Before Sparks came on the fire alarm went of for some reason, but luckily it didn't seem to mean anything.

Sparks!

Excitement was through the roof when they came on! However... something seemed to be wrong with Ron's setup which became clear just as Russell was entering the stage. Russell went back to the side of the stage and the entrance music played a second time. It was all pretty quickly fixed and then Russell walked to the edge of the stage. Right in front of us! Towering over us!! "So.. Brussels! May we start?" I will never forget the looks me and Sarah quickly exchanged when this happened, like IS THIS REAL? IS THAT WHAT THIS SHOW IS GOING TO BE LIKE? (Spoiler: it was. And Russell clearly had a good time doing this lmao. What the hell is our life!) We were overjoyed and Russell and Ron seemed very happy and then it kicked off!

We spent the entire show bouncing in our seats and having our arms in the air. Throughout the show there were quite a few smiles and so much happened that I can not even recall it all! At one point Russell smiled at me (!) and so I smiled back and did a happy wiggle, AND THEN HE WAS STILL LOOKING, so I tried to smile even wider and tilted my head to communicate something along the lines of "this is so much fun and I love being here with you guys and all these fans so much it's driving me nuts" and he GIGGLED (I can die happy, my dreams are fulfilled).

Obviously Russell spoke French for this show and my French isn't the best but he said really sweet things about how it's always really special in Brussels and that tonight would be no exception, "guarantie!" (Sorry to French speakers I don't know if I chose the right form of the word to spell it correctly.) I will have to upload a video of him saying this because it was 1) really sweet, and 2) I know some of you are Very Normal about Russell's French :) [Edit: here's the video!]

I was so happy to be at this show with Sarah and so so happy with our show neighbours! Some of my favourite moments are definitely very much down to the great company and so I am going to start mentioning all of those <3

Near the end of Nothing Is As Good As They Say It Is both me and Sarah were punching the air to the beat and I noticed our moves mirrored each other exactly, we were completely in sync with each other and the song (in the moment it was very much a HOLY SHIT WE ARE DOING THIS, THIS IS THE BEST!) and we really pulled it off! Kept it up to the final note, ending the song perfectly with the both of us punching both our arms in the air! And it made Russell smile - I am still giddy about this. We did so well :D

It Doesn't Have To Be That Way was incredible. Me and Sarah both had gotten our phones out and were sitting there curled up in our seats with big eyes, I vividly remember looking over to Sarah next to me and being like, ...yeah 🥹

For Balls we had prearranged with our neighbours that we'd all get up, because holy shit we all love Balls so much and we needed them to know - that song deserves everything from the audience. It really was the best feeling in the world, to be standing there with the 5 of us at the front singing Balls right back in Russell's face. There's videos of Balls from Brussels and it is genuinely one of the very best moments of my life, it's everything. I love Balls so much. (Most people talking about Balls in Brussels will only mention the fact that Russell had a fall, and he did, but he was a real champ and got up real quick, made an attempt to throw the speaker that tripped him (good man adfjhdf), and bounced and sang on even harder.)

With Escalator it was clear Russell knew how much we loved his dance because he was dancing A LOT, and he added some really great moves for she's going up as I'm going down. Obviously we were doing the same dances in our seat with the biggest smiles on our faces, I just love Escalator so much! It didn't go unnoticed and I love that so much!

During When Do I Get To Sing 'My Way' 4 of us did that "in heaven or hell" signing with our arms in sync with Russell and Russell smiled because of it, real sweet fucking moment - I am not over it.

And that concludes my favourite moments that had everything to do with my show neighbours, I love you all so much! (Oh yeah forgot to mention there was a lot of giggling to my left and it just made me so happy, every time Sarah would shout "WOO!" giggles broke out on my left and it was really sweet. Also my neighbour on my left had a fan and she actually fanned my face at times, like... Sparks friends, next level :))

Okay on to some other highlights. A really big one was during Music That You Can Dance To and by now everyone knows how I feel about this song, BUT RUSSELL HAD A PROP! He skipped to the back of the stage where he has that little table thingy and he HAD A MINI ELECTRIC FAN AND STOOD THERE HOLDING IT TO HIS FACE FOR A SECOND XD (I love this guy. He was very much smiling about this.) Then he put it down, said something along the lines of "okay back to it!" and went back to skipping and dancing around. (I have not found any footage of Music That You Can Dance To though and so if anyone has that, LET ME KNOW.)

We definitely got a "YEAH" from Ron during Shopping Mall Of Love. During We Go Dancing Russell went to Ron's side of the stage (where he had had the fall during Balls) and signed at the spot on the floor after he sang "sometimes I get injured man, it's harder than it looks". Way to incorporate this into the performance XD He signed at that speaker on the floor once more during The Number One Song In Heaven. Honestly, iconic.

It also really needs saying that Belgian audiences are generally really, REALLY, good. There were so many arms in the air throughout the entire hall for When Do I Get To Sing 'My Way', The Number One Song In Heaven and This Town. They all take off so beautifully. There was an applause between songs that made Russell hide his face and he went to stand with Ron, Sarah was drumming on the stage, it was just incredible. It only stopped because Ron started playing the next song. I loved punching the beat into the air for The Number Song In Heaven right in front of Russell and he seemed really encouraging of it too, it was just amazing :D It was probably my favourite experience of hearing This Town live as well because Russell came to dance and jump really close to us for so many of the important moments in the song! (Our timing was really good, I am so proud of us!)

Gee, That Was Fun hit me really hard as this was the last one. I don't know if it was a conscious decision or not but from here on to the end of the show Russell addressed the audience in English instead of French (I am grateful though because it meant fully understanding what he was saying): "We've always enjoyed coming to Brussels to play and tonight was far and away the best show and the best audience we've ever had in Brussels so thank you" 🥹 We probably got a little wave before they exited the stage but unfortunately my memory is hazy.. :')

During My Baby's Taking Me Home I finally spotted the plastic figurine on the stage that had been on Stevie's drums in Utrecht! It was lined up with the band and stood on the floor on its own with its arms in the air, the tiny thing looked like a rock star with the backlight and smoke and I was absolutely delighted by this XD (I love this band.)

The band intro was sweet as hell and Ron was smiling so much, also he looked extremely cool - he sat with one leg up while applauding the rest of the band. Russell said really sweet things about the band members, but seemingly scrambled for words for a second in his introduction of Evan Weiss which led to a pause in him saying something along the lines of "he's just an amazing ....person!" and (unfortunately I didn't see this) but apparently Stevie laughed at this and looked at Russell who then gestured like an "I dunno" at Stevie and they both laughed. When introducing Ron as his big brother Russell held his hand above Ron's head as he stood up and this was pretty great :) (I have a video of the band introduction so I'll upload this - it doesn't include the exchange between Stevie and Russell unfortunately.)

They let us applaud for a while before introducing All That. Russell said "When there's evenings like this that are really emotional for us, and we hope really emotional for you as well, this song is even ... takes on more resonance and it becomes even something more ... it becomes sadder to us. So in any case, it's called "All That"." (We audibly went "awww" - sorry Russell if you heard that :'))

And there it was. The last song of this show and the last song of this tour for me. I don't recall the photo moment all that well but I do remember us having a little panic as we didn't have a game plan and were right behind Russell. But we figured it out :) We made it in! (I love this photo so much and I've smiled about it so many times!)

There were waves and smiles and quite a few people in the front row got a handshake from Russell - us included (I smiled at him and said thank you :D). They stood there in front of us smiling for quite a bit, and our friend on our right had a small poster to ask Ron for his tie. (I couldn't read the poster so in this moment I was laughing to myself thinking about Ron making sure Russell couldn't see that sign that said "Ron you're sexy take your shirt off" on the 2022 tour XD) Ron actually replied though?! He smiled and said "next time". These guys... I love them so much. 🥹 There really could not have been a better show to end this tour on. I still think about it very regularly and can't help but smile about everything.

(My footage of this show can be found on youtube.)

~

After the show we stood around talking with more of our friends who had also sat in the front row but on the other side, smiling about it all. Someone we didn't know came up to our group to also excitedly yell about it all and asked us with a big smile if we had also seen "those kids in the front row". HOLY SHIT? 🥹

We said goodbye to our friends and went to see Mr.B to say goodbye and thank him again, because it all ended now. He was in conversation with someone and Sarah found a setlist on the floor in front of his merch table and for some reason we asked him if we could have it (you heard it here first, Mr.B is apparently the deity of setlists and will decide on if you can keep something you find on the floor lmao). He witnessed our deciding on who got to keep it which I hope amused him hahaha (thank you Sarah for letting me have it - it still makes me smile). The guy who was talking to Mr.B was a guy from the UK and he had apparently sat behind us, he said he had really enjoyed how much fun we were having and that we were probably the biggest Sparks fans he'd ever come across as "we didn't miss a single beat". 🥹 (I will cry.) I proceeded to have a possibly cringy conversation with Mr.B but everyone was laughing so I probably did alright hahaha. He told us he was hoping to tour Europe at one point and that he hoped to see us again. I hope so too! :)

Leaving the venue we bumped into all our friends again outside who hadn't made it very far past the door of the venue. They sang Bon Voyage at us as we left 🥹💕