#she's just doing whatever. today she's sweet and good and just tomorrow she's rolling dice to see whether she does something Drastic

[blujayonthewing]

man and the thing is if lisbet was Teetering On The Edge Of Darkness with any kind of actual consistency or substantial meaning beyond just 'whatever flavor of angst her player happens to be feeling this evening' it'd be so fucking great to play off of as aubree dedicates herself more strongly than ever to hope and redemption and kindness in the face of adversity and evil, but she's just kind of flipping a coin at any given moment on whether she's going to be Good or Unhinged and nobody's attempts to reach out to her have ever had any more than immediate momentary effect on her whatsoever and I have no reason to believe that there's anything more aubree can do or say that would change that

[heimurinn]

As The Garden Says

I saw this absolutely adorable art by @thacmis​ and felt very inspired. So have some sweet little Nanny Crowley/Brother Francis fluff! 

Length: 1,688 words

----

It would come at no shock to anyone that Aziraphale liked theater. 

He looked like the kind of man to like theater, he looked like the kind of man to show up at a five-hour opera and pay fervent attention instead of using the whole affair to get drunk off nice wine in nice clothes sitting on nice, uncomfortable furniture. Which is what Crowley did the one, and only, time Aziraphale had convinced him to come along. 

Crowley was sure that Aziraphale would have been an actor in a mortal life, he isn’t sure if he would have been a good actor, but an enthusiastic one at the very least. One does have to be somewhat good at acting to be immortal on earth, blending into human society and convincing those nearby that yes you are in fact human even though you haven’t aged a day in ten years, so one usually picks up the skill willingly or no. Aziraphale, however, loves to play true characters, when he gets the chance, eccentric characters, like magicians, very odd bookstore owners, or old gardeners. 

Crowley had put a decent amount of effort into becoming Nanny Crowley, he’d decided that she was kind in a very poisonous way, smoothed-voiced and caring, slowly digging into your mind. Like nightshade, Nanny Crowley was beautiful but toxic. He would have fun with that. He’d also decided she was stylish, but that was more of a given, what’s the point if she isn’t stylish? 

His pre-planning ended about there, he’d play it by ear from there, he was very good at improvising, he liked to think. 

Crowley knew that Aziraphale would take his character a bit farther, and believed he would be ready for whatever Aziraphale had thought up. I’ll be a gardener, he told Crowley, Brother Francis. He’ll be wonderful! 

Crowley had tried to picture this “Brother Francis.” He’d come up with the image of a man in a straw hat and overalls who probably played the banjo, or more accurately made banjo music play in the minds of everyone when he entered a room. 

Crowley was not however prepared for Brother Francis. He’d expected Aziraphale to put in an effort but this, this was too much. The sideburns that dwarfed his face, the teeth so large and buck he couldn’t properly close his mouth, the way he walked less like a walk and more like scooting slowly forward, one side at a time. 

Crowley burst out laughing when Aziraphale first showed him Brother Francis, and when he commented on his walk, Aziraphale said Crowley walked like a snake who recently regrew legs, to which Crowley protested. 

They did at least, look like the absolute polar opposite of the other, which Crowley supposed was effective in the duality of good and evil they were trying to put in the young Antichrist’s head. Nanny Crowley did try to keep her face as straight as she could when she saw Brother Francis in the garden. They had a habit of running into Brother Francis when Crowley returned with Warlock after a day out, and Warlock always ran straight to him. 

“Nanny took me to the museum today!” Warlock told Francis as he quietly weeded the garden, whistling a hymn. 

“Did she?” Francis said, standing to face him, he held a basket in one hand, filled with green weeds, Crowley had told him to let them rot a bit, and then put them back in the soil. The fear of knowing the weaker of them will be fed to the strong was excellent growing motivation. 

 Warlock nodded an excited, boyish nod, “She says when I grow up, it will all be mine. She says kings will kneel before me and beg me to take their crowns!”

Francis gave him a buck-toothed smile, the kind of smile that made distant birds chirp, “Ah but you know,” he said, “The best gifts are those that are given to you, Master Warlock, but if another has what you want, you must first ask.” 

“Always?” 

“Always, even for something as small as say…” he gestured to the bed of flowers behind him, “A flower from a garden.” 

Warlock stared from Francis to the flowers, “Can I have a flower?” 

Francis gave that same, bird chirping smile, and shook his head, “Don’t ask me, young master, ask the garden.” 

From where she stood in the yard, Nanny Crowley rolled her eyes, checking her watch, “Your mother is waiting for us, dear.” 

Warlock ignored him, enthralled in Brother Francis’ lesson. He knelt down on his knees and whispered to the garden, “Can I have a flower?” 

Francis knelt beside him, cupping one hand around his ear, leaning into the flowers, “Hear that?” He said, “The garden says ‘Yes.’”

“Really!” 

“Yes.” Said Francis, “It says ‘A daisy for young Warlock.” He reached into the garden and plucked a tiny, perfect daisy. 

“Warlock!” Crowley called again, “Your mother-” 

“And,” said Francis, this time it was all Aziraphale, having too much fun tormenting Crowley, “It says ‘A rose, for the beautiful lady.’” 

Crowley blinked. 

Francis clipped a perfect red rose off a bush and handed both flowers to the boy, who ran excitedly back to his nanny’s side, clutching his daisy to his chest while he handed her the rose. 

Crowley looked over to Aziraphale, still smiling, slowly he took off his hat and held it to his chest, and gave Crowley a small, adoring bow. 

Crowley gave an amused chuckle and took the flower, tucking it into her hat, “Come along my dear.” She said, and lead Warlock into the house. 

----

“You know it confuses him when you do things like that,” Crowley said. He and Aziraphale sat in a small coffee shop, near Aziraphale’s bookshop, they’d chosen to stop on their way back from submitting their reports, and take a much-needed break. 

“Things like what?” Aziraphale replied, taking another bite of banoffee pie, not looking up from his newspaper. 

“Things like that flower,” Crowley said, leaning back into the booth. His black coffee untouched and growing cold. 

Aziraphale looked at him over the rim of his glasses, “It’s my character, Crowley! Brother Francis is a kind old fellow-” 

“Odd old fellow.” 

Aziraphale rolled his eyes, “What’s wrong with a flower?” 

Crowley leaned on his right hand, looking away from Aziraphale, tapping on the table with his left, “You know. We aren’t supposed to like each other. Good and evil. Opposing forces. That’s the whole point, right?” 

Aziraphale paused for a moment, staring at Crowley, before his eyes went back to his paper, “Well, I don’t think I’m confusing him,” he turned the page, “I’m teaching him to be kind to everyone. Even those you might find...unpleasant.” 

Crowley snapped his gaze back to the angel, “Unpleasant?” 

“You know what I mean!” Aziraphale responded, his tone more mischievous than defensive, “Besides...it suits you.” 

Crowley raised an eyebrow, “Does it?” 

“Well, it suits Nanny Crowley,” Aziraphale shifted in his seat, “It’s just like her. Stubborn, beautiful, and” he scooped another bit of pie into his mouth, “A bit prickly.” 

“Prickly?” 

Aziraphale returned to his paper, raising his eyebrows a bit, a pleased smile on his face. 

----

One of the most tedious tasks of being Warlock’s nanny was helping his mother with dinner. Nanny Crowley knew next to nothing about properly cooking a meal, she just read along whatever recipes Mrs. Dowling printed out, waited for her to look away, and then moved her fingers a bit. Ah! Now the onions are diced perfectly and the steak is seasoned. Is that all you needed, ma’am? 

 There was also the prospect of listening to Mrs. Dowling’s monologues about her husband, “I know he’s busy but it’s our anniversary!” “My mother is going to be there, and he can’t even be bothered to show up?” “He’s lucky is so far away or I swear to god!” 

To all of which Crowley would respond with some polite nods and agreeable noises, while Bohemian Rhapsody played on a loop in her head. 

Tonight was such a night, Crowley quietly ground garlic with a snap of her fingers, placing it into a tiny bowl and handing it to Mrs. Dowling, “He says he won’t be home for dinner tonight,” she said, punctuating the sentence with a sigh, “Warlock’s going to be upset, would you mind taking him somewhere fun tomorrow?” 

“Of course ma’am.” 

The conversation was interrupted by the sound of a child’s sneakers running across kitchen tile, both women turned around to see Warlock, entirely covered in dirt, and holding a collection of pristine red roses. 

Mrs. Dowling saw the dirt first, “What- what have you been doing?” She ran over, grabbing a dish towel from the sink and trying fruitlessly to rub the dirt from his face, “Have you been rolling around in the garden?” 

“Yes,” Warlock said, holding up the roses. 

Now his mother saw the roses. She placed a hand to her chest, “Are those for me?” 

“No.” 

“Oh,” Mrs. Dowling blinked in surprise. Warlock walked past her, trailing dirt on the white tile until he stood at Crowley’s feet. 

“Brother Francis said the garden said it wants you to have these,” Warlock held the flowers high up to Crowley, the petals brushing the base of her chin. 

Crowley stood there for a moment, blinking, jaw slightly agape, Mrs. Dowling’s eyes on her. She gave a surprised, almost nervous laugh, before wrapping her hand around the stems. 

“Thank you, dear,” She said, holding the roses to her chest. Giving Warlock a polite pat on the head. 

Warlock gave her a big, dirty smile, and ran back out the door. 

Mrs. Dowling stood up, wiping off her skirt, “Brother Francis…” 

“Mhm,” Crowley brought the bouquet up to her nose, they smelled sweet. 

“He’s a nice man and everything but, sometimes I worry about the things he tells my son.” 

“Hmm,” Crowley brushed her thumb across one of the petals. Soft, red, and perfect. She wrapped her hand tighter around the stems and felt there were no thorns. 

[jackblankhsh]

A Blood Red Reindeer Knows:  Part 5:  Snake Eyes/Black Eyes

A half hour later I'm checking into the North Light Inn.  It's a crappy room, in a shitty part of town, but it's affordable.  Plus, this is the kind of place folks know to mind their own business.  Most just want to be left alone anyhow.  Whether junkies cooking pixie dust, or doll families hovering over homeless, no one wants a witness to them ever having been here.  Maybe that's why, in my room, all the mirrors are broke.  

 First thing I do is call Cari.  The sound of her voice is like warm honey.  I can't tell her everything.  She might worry, and if she asks me to come home I'll do it -- no second thoughts. But I'm finally feeling a thread in my hand.  It'll lead me where, honestly, I'm not sure I want to go.  Still, I tell her everything I can.  

 She's no fool though. Cari can sense what I'm leaving out. There's an outline full of implications in the missing puzzle pieces.  

 Still she says, "You do what you think is right.  I'll be here waiting for you."

 "Thanks a chuisle mo chroí."

 "Come home safe."

 "I will."

 It feels like a lie. Still, there are times the truth does no one any good.  Hanging up the phone I figure on a shower.  

 Though there isn't enough hot water to rinse off the feeling of this city, I get clean enough afterward to feel fresh.  Stepping out of the steaming bathroom my body is well on the way to shutting down. Next item on the agenda is definitely a bit of sleep.  Then I spot a note slipped under the door.

 Getting my gun out of my jacket I go to the door.  Stepping outside I can't see anyone except for a nodded out rabbit on nearby stairs. Yet, there's a hint of perfume drifting on the air.  Something familiar, sweet and spicy -- baked apples and cinnamon.  

 "Vixen?"

 Going back inside I pick up the note.  Sure enough it's her handwriting.

 The note reads:

 "Rudy,

They're watching you. Be careful."

 A knock causes me to spin round.  I throw open the door hoping it's Vixen.  The stupidity of my reckless is made plain when I see Glitterspark.  

 Before I can react he thumps me over the head with a lead sap.  I fall backwards into darkness.  All I see is black dotted by twinkling Christmas lights.  In the distance I can almost hear Vixen say, "I'm sorry," but I figure it's just part of a pleasant dream in an unpleasant moment.

 When I eventually come to my skull feels cracked.  The door to my room is shut, and I can't make sense of what happened until it dawns on me my hands are empty.  My gun is gone.  

 However long I've been unconscious is too long.  Dressing quick as I can I hurry to the parking lot.  Sirens are screaming in the night, and I've got a feeling anyone could be on the way for me.  Whatever's going on, Glitterspark is holding a coffin nail sure to seal me in.  

 Getting on my bike I roar out of the motel parking lot unsure where I should go.  The obvious choice is out of town.  

 Then I hear a jack-in-the-box springing out shouting, "Extra!  Extra!  Read all about it!"

 It doesn't take eagle eyes to spy an old mug shot of mine on the front page.  Trouble this deep, there's only one place to go.  The problem is I know I'm not welcome there either. Still, it's not like that's ever stopped me before.  So I head for Black Jack's Cooler.

 #

 At first glance it seems like a glacier.  Then the neon adorning the outside comes to life.  A tsunami of colors flood forth filling any eye that happens by.  There's no way not to look.  

 What a person learns, though, is that all those lights are distractions.  Strobe bursts pull attention away from the sad bastards slumped over slot machines.  Poor puppets looking ready to feed the slots blood for one more shot at gold.  Over at the blackjack table several glum faces are ignored in favor of TVs flashing sexy plushies foretelling fabulous fortune while they dance on dice.  A craps table is ringed by sweaty faces too desperate to dwell on anything but hope. Meanwhile, the neon's a rainbow blindfold hiding the truth.  

 For every single smiling winner there a thousand losers who risked their last penny betting with galactic odds against them.  In fact, the only cheery toys are the ones already rich.  It doesn't mean a thing dropping a hundred bucks here and there -- pocket change to them.  They can burn dollars for fun.  No, the sad truth is Black Jack's Cooler doesn't live off them.  It thrives on the desperate hoping to hit 21, roll seven, catch a full house on the river; the people most likely to leave penniless after chancing everything to win... does it really matter what they're after if they've lost?  The house knows every sad story, and ignored them all.

 Walking into the joint my first thought is how long before they know I'm here.  Eyes are watching from a hundred spots, half of which I can't even guess at.  Action Figures acting as security patrol the casino floor.  However, it's been almost a decade.  Perhaps things have changed.

 Tossing down a small stack I slip into a poker game, and wait.  Things are going well, to the point I actually feel like a winner. Sure enough that's when the hammer comes down.  

 I feel a heavy hand land on my shoulder.  

 I say, "Let go you wanna keep the hand."

 The grip tightens. I sigh.  Today is not the day to test me.  

 Jerking my head back I ram my antler into the Action Figure's stomach.  It jabs him back, and before he can recover I'm turned around cracking his chin with an uppercut.  Obviously he's not alone.  Folks who brag about fighting jabber on about style this, and all kinds of kung fu bullshit. The guard closest I kick in the balls, while the other, I toss a handful of chips in his face then throat punch; he's on the ground.  

 It isn't more than a second until a fresh crop of Action Figures are charging my way.  However, I've made my point.  So I put my hands up.  

 Surrounded I say, "I told him to get his hand off me."

 A slow round of solitary clapping sounds behind a row of burly Action Figures.  The column parts revealing the elf himself, Black Jack Frost, in an ice blue suit.  Shaking his head he can't seem to help a sardonic grin.  

 Pointing at me he says, "It's good to know you haven't changed."

 "Why's that?" I ask.

 "Because I won't feel bad about what happens next."

 I see his eyes move, glancing over my shoulder.  I turn in time to see Kung Fu Karl coming up from behind.  There's no time to dodge.  I get a cattle prod in the side, and for the second time in as many hours I'm laid out.  Though not unconscious, I'm out of action.  

 Action Figures scoop me up, and drag me to somewhere in the bowels of the casino.  They cuff me to a chair in a room that smells like piss, blood, and shit.  I can't help thinking I've made a tremendous error coming here.

 Not long after, Black Jack walks in with Kung Fu Karl beside him.  Two of the grimmest gangsters in the North Pole, they look oddly pleased to see me.

 Black Jack says, "Been a long time."

 "Not long enough," I say.

 He nods, "Yet, apparently, you missed us.  Why else would you be here?"

 "Haven't you seen the news?"

 Black Jack shrugs, "I've heard what's been said, but that don't make it true.  Unless you're here to settle old scores."

 "If I was, you think I'd walk in the front door?"

 He smirks, "Depends. Maybe you got an attack of conscience, and came here to pay what you owe."

 "I don't owe you shit."

 Kung Fu Karl growls.

 Black Jack says, "Don't owe shit, huh?  For what you did to Karl -- he can't do his kung fu chop no more.  Think about that."

 "Maybe if you weren't running a crooked casino, I wouldn't've had to bust the place up." Snorting I add, "Hell, you could've given me the money back.  Save us all the trouble."

 Approaching me Black Jack says, "First off."  -- he throws a vicious combo battering my face -- "My joint ain't crooked."

 Spitting blood I ask, "Second?"

 No words this time. He just goes into the beating. There's a heft to his punches almost like waiting ten years made his fists heavier.  Maybe it's just a decade of experience.  Either way, it isn't pleasant, and the whole while I can half see Karl in the background, itching for his turn.  

 After a seemingly endless barrage Black Jack steps away.  Snapping his fingers commands an Action Figure to bring him a chair. Taking a seat nearby, Black Jack mops his forehead with a handkerchief.  

 Chuckling he says, "I'm gettin' old."

 "I can take over," Kung Fu Karl says.

 Black Jack waves him off, "Not yet."

 "When?" Karl growls.

 "Soon." Eying me Black Jack says, "I gotta know why you came back, Rudy."

 Deep breath then I say, "I'm wondering the same thing."

 I've made worse decisions in my life.  Still, there's no doubt this'll rank in the top ten.  Truth is I've never been much of a planner.  That requires thinking about tomorrow.  I'm more of a doer which is not always a good thing.  I react to situations, going with the first thought that pops into my head.  If that means ripping an Action Figure's arm out the socket in order to beat my money out of his gangster boss's pockets, I'll flip the goddamn poker table over, and go nuts.  

 Vixen used to say, "You always do the right thing for the wrong reason."

 I'd reply, "Better than the wrong thing for the right reason," thinking I was clever.

 She'd just smile in that strained way you see on a person who loves you, but is disappointed.  She wanted me to consider what comes next. That would mean thinking tomorrow is worth anything.  I could never do that, at least not while living in this city.  So I left, and she stayed with her eyes hooked on a brighter future I couldn't see.  

 Considering the future I tell Black Jack, "You hear how some folks think things are about to change?"

 "There are rumors."

 "That change is coming, and I don't think it's coming clean."

 Getting to his feet Black Jack straightens his suit.  Shaking his head he steps towards the door.  Passing Karl, a nod is all it takes.  Looking like a delighted hyena Kung Fu Karl comes at me.  

 As he lays into me I hear Black Jack saying, "If change is coming that's tomorrow, and Rudy, you don't need to worry about tomorrow."

[goy-bullshit-translator]

I'm not the anon who asked about Purim but what is the Purim story?

ALRIGHTY *cracks knuckles* I got off mobile and on desktop for this so you know it’s serious.

Purim Story: They tried to kill us, we survived, let’s eat. 

The year is 367 BCE. The town is Shushan, Persia. The scene zooms in on a large castle in the middle, big, decadent, just the right amount of finery and prestige for a king who’s a complete asshole. The king Ahashverous is sitting on his throne, lording over his subjects in the way only a completely pompous and detached king can. His wife Vashti is off in her rooms, chilling, doing something, enjoying her queenly life. King Ahashverous decides he’s in the mood to party, so calls up all his dudebro friends, they’re chilling, dancing, drinking, having a great time, when King A gets this great idea to call his wife Vashti down for a little entertainment, a little dancing for his guests. Wearing only her crown. So, for reasons obvious to all but the most entitled frat boy (Ahashverous), Vashti declines and refuses to do as he asked. He gets super pissed by this and demands her killed, which is promptly followed out. Vashti is out of the picture and villianized in children’s purim skits for eons to come. 

So the King is sitting there, having just disposed of his unruly wife, when he realizes he needs a new queen. Well shit, how’s he gonna get one on such short notice? He calls up his right hand man, his advisor Haman (BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO), and tells him to go fetch all the women of Shushan, as he will hold a beauty contest and whoever wins will have the blessing of being the King’s wife. 

Enter Esther, a young Jewish girl, orphaned at a young age and who has grown up with her uncle Mordechai (THE JEWISH GUY), who works in the Palace. She’s young, sweet, innocent and pretty, so of course she’s a prime subject for the King’s beauty contest. She shows up, struts her stuff, and lo and behold, the king has a new wife! They get married, and she’s trapped in a world of pompous royalty and anti-semitism. Oh yeah, no one knows she’s Jewish. 

Meanwhile, Mordechai, on his daily trip to the palace, overhears two guards, gossiping about how they’re gonna murder the king, just gonna kill him brutally and painfully and all that good stuff. So, let’s be real, the king probably deserves this, but that’s besides the point. Mordechai is shocked and appalled, and rushes immediately to notify the court of this impending murder plot, the guards are taken and executed, and life goes back to normal. 

Mordechai continues his walk around his Shushan town, when he happens to cross paths with Haman (BOOOOOOOOOO). Haman, being the asshole he is, insists that everyone who he walks past must bow to him. Mordechai, being the Jew that he is, refuses. Now Haman fucking hates this. If Mordechai won’t bow to him, then all the Jews won’t bow to him, so he must not be the most important person in the world and that’s simply not permissible. So he sidles up to his personal pal the king and is like “hey. hey bud. hey my dude my pal there are people who don’t respect my authority or yours. They won’t bow to me what kind of filthy rats.” and the king’s all “holy shit there are people who wont bow to you we gotta do something!!” and H*man smiles and goes “yeah dude i got the perfect solution. Let’s just kill them. Kill them all. There’s no way that could go wrong.” And the king, (who’s probably still drunk), is like “Yeah dude sounds cool!!”, and willingly signs off on the order to murder all the Jews. Now, H*man is a little bastard who doesn’t give a shit about what he’s doing, so in order to decide when he’ll commit this mass murder, he rolls some dice, called Purim, to choose a date. (Hopefully you see the obvious connection to the holiday). The dice land on the 14th of Adar, the decree is made and sent out into the city, and the Jews of Shushan collectively go “oh fuck we’re gonna die.”

Back to our good pal Mordechai, who’s walking around Shushan again (he seems to go on a lot of walks), when he notices one of the posters declaring the murders of the Jews, and is like SHIT SHIT SHIT WAIT my niece lives in the palace. She’s the gotdamn queen. She’s gotta have some sort of power, right? So he runs over to visit Esther, and is like Esther sweetie babe please go talk to your husband please make him reconsider mass murder maybe? Thanks? and Esther’s all “what the fuck i haven’t seen my husband since the wedding if i enter his quarters without an invitation i’ll be fucking murdered” and mordechai, who’s had enough of his niece’s wishy washy shit, goes “YOU”RE GONNA GET FUCKING MURDERED ANYWAY IN CASE YOU FORGOT YOU ARE ALSO A JEW” and Esther’s like “okay yeah i’ll see what I can do.”

Zoom in on the king, who’s trying to go to sleep in his big kingly beds, and just can’t fall asleep. So instead of suffering through insomnia like the rest of us plebians, he calls for someone to read to him from the royal records, cause they’re so fucking boring they’ll have to put him to sleep. So one of his servants is doing so, and he stumbles upon the time when Mordechai saved his life. He realizes that Mordechai never actually got an award for all that snazzy shit, so calls in his boy Ham*n. “Hey. Haman. My dude my bro my man. If there was someone I really liked, who did a huge huge favor for me, like, yaknow, really helped me out, how should I reward him?” Haman, the stuck up brat that he is, of course things Ahashverous is talking about him, and so says “well…. i would dress him in the king’s finest robes and put him on the king’s finest horse and have someone parade him around the streets of Shushan yelling “THIS IS A MAN THE KING WISHES TO HONOR LOOK HOW GLORIOUS HE IS” and Ahashverous is all “dude you’re brilliant. Okay tomorrow afternoon, get that Mordechai dude and have this done to him. You’ll be leading the horse and yelling.” Haman realizes he fucked up. Haman reaaaaaaaaaaaaally hates Mordechai now. He hates him so much in fact, that he builds a set of gallows specifically for murdering Mordechai alone. 

Esther, meanwhile, is trying to build up courage to go see the King and explain the whole “I’m Jewish please don’t kill my people” issue. First, she fasts for three days to be ready, and asks all the Jews of Shushan to fast with her. Once those three days are up, she figures she can’t just waltz right in to his quarters and say “don’t kill me”, so instead she dresses up all fancy, and waltzes into his quarters with some fancy (skimpy) clothing on and an invitation to a party. The king is thrilled to be invited to a party, and manages to overcome his instinct for murdering his wives to accept the invitation. At the party, they’re chilling, they’re laughing, they’re having an all around wonderful time. when Esther goes to make an announcement. “Hem hem hem” she coughs. “I brought you here today for something very important.” Everyone is paying attention. “I’m having another party tomorrow night and you’re all invited!!!! And so is that Haman dude. Make sure he’s there. Really.” Well of course our frat boy king is delighted and agrees that he and Haman will absolutely 100% be there. 

Cut to the next night, where they’re at the party and Esther goes to make an announcement. “hem hem hem.” she says. The king gets ready for another party announcement. He loves parties “Someone” says Esther. “Someone, in this very room, is trying…. TO KILL ME!” Shock! Terror! Awe! Emotions! The party guests are very confused, until Esther gives the full explanation. “I’m a Jew… Haman’s a dick… etc.” So of course the King is so distraught, because he can’t have his lovely wife that he loves so very much (that he thinks looks hella hot) be murdered! But he’s also in a bind. Cause here’s the thing about kingly orders, like the one about killing the Jews. They can’t be undone or retracted. Looks like the Jews are still screwed. That is, until Mordechai gets this great idea. More murder. “Look.” he says. “People have been given legal permission to kill us. I propose you simply do the same. Write out a little kingly decree, saying that the Jews have the legal right to kill anyone who attacks them, and can fight for their lives. Then, it’ll just be a battle of the strongest and of course the Jews will escape just fine. We’re good at surviving.” The king, who’s really just a pawn at this point, is all “well that’s a MARVELOUS idea! Let me write up this order immediately, I’ll get right to it!” This second kingly order gets written, the decree goes out, and the 14th of Adar rolls around.

There’s mass murder. Everyone is fighting or killing or dying. Mostly goyim are dying though. The Jews successfully manage to protect themselves, keeping their culture alive, turning what was supposed to be a day of mourning into a day of wildly happy celebration, the Purim festival we know now. They also found and seized Haman, hanging him upon the gallows he built for Mordechai. And to this day, we eat hamentaschen to mock this fool’s hat/ears/pockets. Whatever we’re mocking, Haman was a dick who looked ridiculous. And we’re still here bitch, so ha. You lost. 

[pawneewafflesben]

19. Parents meeting when they take their kids to class AU, 26. Sitting on the same park bench AU, and/or 47. Meeting at a festival AU 😊

I totally should be working on birthday Fics but Instead i’m writing tumblr drabbles because apparently that’s all I ever write anymore??? ENJOY AND THANK YOU FOR THE PROMPTS ANGELFISH!

19. Parents meeting when they take their kids to class AU

They stood right outside the doorway to Lily’s new preschool classroom, while the other four year olds smiled at their teacher and made their way inside.

But not Lily.

Instead, Lily is clung onto Ben’s pant leg with watery eyes and a trembling bottom lip. Which Ben couldn’t help but find odd considering Lily always had a baby sitter, or went to a daycare, in each town when he was on the road auditing. Last night she had practically ran around their new house at the prospect of going to a real preschool. She’s even picked out her outfit all by herself (a purple skirt and a shirt with Rey and BB8 on it that certainly did not match, but Ben let it slide. If she was happy, he was happy.)

But for whatever reason, Lily was no longer happy. She wailed at the fact that Ben couldn’t stay with her and hid her face every time Miss Ellen, her teacher, tried to talk to her. He was almost tempted to say forget it and take Lily home. Except today was his very important first day working at the accounting firm and showing up late was not an ideal first impression.

He shot an apologetic smile in the direction of Lily’s teacher before crouching down beside his daughter. “Lily,” Ben smoothed back his daughter’s stray hairs and kissed her forehead, “You have to go to school, Sweet Pea.”

Lily crinkled her nose and shook her head before burying her face into Ben’s shirt. He tried not to think about how he’d definitely be walking into work in a snot and tear stained covered dress shirt.

Miss Ellen opened her mouth to try and convince Lily to join her class when a blond haired little boy came running up to her. He gave Miss Ellen a bright toothy smile before turning towards Lily with a frown.

“Hi,” the little boy stepped closer before tapping Lily on the shoulder. Lily turned her head slightly, so half of her face was directed at the boy.

“Are you scared?” Lily managed a small nod, but remained glued to Ben’s side.

But the little boy smiled, “School isn’t scary. Miss Ellen is nice, and I can be your friend,” He reached for Lily’s arm and pulled slightly, “Sit at my table! We can play superheroes for outside time!” Lily hesitated, her face clear of any tears and obviously intrigued at the idea of playing superheroes, but still uncertain about leaving Ben.

Ben started to encourage Lily to go inside with her classmate when a woman came running down the hallway.

“Sebastian! You know you can’t go running ahead of me like that, you could get hurt!”

The little boy, who Ben assumed must’ve been Sebastian, frowned at the floor and mumbled “Sorry Mommy,” before trying to tug Lily into the classroom again. This time Lily scooted forward, but not before looking up at Ben as if to ask can I go? Ben nodded and kissed Lily’s cheek, telling her to have fun before watching her wander into the classroom with wide eyed wonder.

Miss Ellen assured him that Lily was in good hands and told him and the woman beside him, Ms. Knope, to have a good day and that pickup for aftercare was at 5:30 sharp. Ben only nodded, suddenly overcome with a whole new set of emotions and could hardly quell the tears forming in his eyes.

—

“First time drop off?”

Ben jumped at the sound of another person’s voice. He’d practically ran out of the preschool building afterwards, needing to be alone for a moment to cope with the fact that his daughter was growing up. But when his eyes flickered up to the person beside him he was met with bright blue eyes and he no longer wanted to be alone.

“Um, it’s that obvious?”

She giggled and said, “Oh just a tiny bit. But it’s okay. I was a wreck the first time I dropped Sebastian off. I cried all week, not even JJ’s waffles helped.”

Well that certainly didn’t make Ben feel any better.

“Buuuut,” she took a step closer and places a reassuring hand on his shoulder. It should’ve felt strange, he only knew this woman’s last name who her child was, and yet it was perfectly natural. “It does get easier. Even if it means they’re growing up, just think of all the new things they get to experience. It’ll be okay. I promise.” She smiled softly and that definitely made Ben feel a little better.

“Thanks, that’s really nice. Thank you-”

“Leslie Knope,” she stuck out her hand and her grin grew about ten sizes.

“Ben Wyatt.”

“Well it was nice to meet you, Ben Wyatt. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow for drop off?”

“I’ll be here every day for the rest of the school year.” She beamed even more at his words. Ben was sure it was physically impossible to smile that much, but apparently not for Leslie Knope.

“Great!”

Ben smirked but he wasn’t sure why, “Great.”

He still missed Lily all day, but when she climbed into his Saturn at the end of the day babbling about her new best friend Sebastian, he knew Pawnee was home.

26 Sitting on the same park bench AU

Leslie Knope is lost.

Not physically lost. She knows her way around Washington DC just about as well as she knows her way around Pawnee. She’s more metaphorically lost. Unsure of where her future’s headed or what she’s was even thinking moving to Washington.

Ann would tell her that she’s anything but lost. That she’s had her future planned out since she was ten years old. She’d become Governor of Indiana and work in government and make the world a better place and one day become the first female president of the United States.

But Ann isn’t here. Ann is back in Pawnee. Along with her mom and the entire parks department.

While Leslie sits on a park bench near the Washington Monument and tries to figure out what the hell she was thinking moving to DC to work for the Department of Interior. A job that she’s sure she’s barely qualified for, in a city that’s larger than life and filled with so many important people that are just so sure of their lives and paths.

Not for the first time today Leslie considers calling Ron and begging for her job back.

He’d say no. Tell her to roll the dice or something else incredibly wise while pretending he doesn’t really care.

So instead Leslie stares at the sky and the trees and tries not to cry or think about the trees and sky in Pawnee.

“Can I sit here?” A man’s voice snaps her out of her own thoughts. There’s plenty of other empty park benches along the sidewalk, but for some reason Leslie finds herself nodding and scooting over to make room for him.

“Thanks,” he smiles softly and fishes out a laptop from the messenger bag he was carrying and starts typing.

He’s kind of cute, for a weirdo that didn’t want to have his own bench. His hair is sticking up on five hundred different directions and his jaw is set in concentration while he types away.

“Is it your first time in DC?” He doesn’t look away from the computer screen. But his voice makes her jump, again, and Leslie feels her cheeks tinge pink when she realizes he didn’t noticed he was staring at her.

She clears her throat and looks away before answering, “Uh nope, no this isn’t my first time. I’ve visited lots of times.” She tries to quell the tears that keep forming when she thinks back to the past visits. The Times she would return to Pawnee and talk to her Mom and Ann for hours about every monument and building and politician she came in contact with.

“I actually moved here yesterday, I start my new job tomorrow,” Leslie attempts to smile but it falls flat. Saying it out loud makes it sound real, and more nerve wracking.

“Oh, so you’re a local now?” He’s smiling at her now, paying no mind to whatever he’d been working on so diligently before.

“I guess so.”

The man furrows his brow and tilts his head in confusion, “You don’t seem very enthused.”

For a split second Leslie considers telling him that she doesn’t have to explain her feelings and fears to him at all. That she’s allowed to feel however she wants to and how dare he question her. But she glances at him and he looks genuinely concerned for her and her feelings and it just spills out.

“I’m, I’m scared. I can’t possibly be qualified for this job and there’s so many things I could mess up on and I- I could fail-”

“You won’t,” her bench partner cuts her off halfway through her rambles. His words spoken with such certainty and insistence that Leslie almost believes him.

But then she remembers that she doesn’t even know this man’s name, so how could he possibly know that she won’t fail.

“I could.”

“But you won’t.”

Leslie eyes him suspiciously, was he psychic? Did he know her future? What was this guys deal?

He laughs and shakes his head, “I’m not a psychic.”

Crap on a cookie she’s said that out loud.

“Then how do you know I won’t fail? How do you know I won’t screw everything up and completely destroy the Department of Interior in my wake?”

“You won’t, you’re not going to mess anything up, because you obviously care too much.” Leslie just stares, suddenly unsure if caring too much isn’t considered a compliment.

“Look, I’m a political consultant. And I’ve met countless politicians and government employees and you can tell when a person is going to accomplish great things or not. Just by whether they care if they’ll do a good job. There’s so many people who don’t care, but you do. So you’ll do great. I have no doubt.”

Leslie can feel the blush returning to her cheeks before stuttering out a quiet “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome Miss-”

“Leslie Knope,” Leslie holds out her hand and smiles, really smiles, when the man shakes her hand and introduces himself as Ben Wyatt.

“I really do think you’ll do great,” he insists again, his hand lingering slightly longer than the usual introductory handshake.

And even though he’s just a random man who decided to sit next to her on this park bench, Leslie thinks maybe she believes him.

47 Meeting at a Festival AU

“Do you need any help finding your way around?” Ben’s standing in the middle of a very busy and crowded Wintertime Holiday Festival when a short blonde woman appears beside him.

“Uhm,” he’s honestly not sure what he’s doing here. He was just driving to his next assignment when he needed a cup of coffee and Pawnee was the closest stop.

“We have lots of different rides and games!” She rambles on about the ice skating rink and the Ferris wheel and a petting zoo with a national treasure of a mini horse. Her words, not his.

“I actually was just trying to get a cup of coffee, every other place around here is closed so…”

“Oh! That’s over in concessions, this way!” When she smiles at him it was like every thing around her lit up.

She stands with him as he waits in line. He learns her name is Leslie Knope, she’s lived in Pawnee her whole life, and this was her biggest project working as Deputy Director of the parks department. He tells her is name is Ben Wyatt, that he’s just passing through for work, and that he’s a budget auditor for the state. Her smile drops at his job title. He imagines she’s probably thinking about Pawnee and if he came and gutted their towns budget with a machete. There certainly wouldn’t be any type of festival, wintertime or otherwise.

Ben’s about to apologize when the man at the counter asks him for his order.

“I’ll take a black coffee and a-” he pauses to glance at Leslie, her smile is back and her nose is bright red when she scrunches it up in disgust at his coffee order. “A hot chocolate, please.” Ben doesn’t even try to suppress his smile when he sees Leslie’s face light up over hot chocolate.

“It’s a shame you’re just passing through.” They’re still walking together while sipping on their drinks. Leslie probably has important things to do since this is her project, but she never wavers from his side.

“Oh yeah?”

Leslie nods and smiles at her coco cup. “Yeah, I mean, you paid all that money for admission just to get a cup of coffee. Now you’ll have to leave without getting the full Pawnee Wintertime Holiday Festival experience.”

“That definitely is a shame,” but he can’t stay. They have to be at city hall by 7:00 tomorrow and it’s already after 9:00 and there’s still a two hour car drive ahead of him. “I could probably stay for a little while longer.”

Lack of sleep will be worth it just to see her eyes sparkle.

“Yeah?” She looks so hopeful and excited, he kind of wants to give her the world.

“Yeah, maybe you can show me that pony you mentioned earlier.”

She hits him and informs him that Lil’ Sebastian is a miniature horse and national treasure, good sir! He doesn’t get it. But he’ll pretend to if she keeps smiling while walking beside him.

[shinezodiac]

Narrados en una canción (P. 2)

ARIES: Houdini - Foster The People

Rise above going to start the war What you want, what you need, What'd you come here for? Well, an eye for an eye And an 'F' for fight They're taking me down as a prisoner's riot

I've got shackles on, my words are tied Fear can make you compromise Lights turned up, it's hard to hide Sometimes I want to disappear

Focus on your ability Focus on your ability Now focus on your ability Focus on your ability

TAURO: The Lazy Song - Bruno Mars

Today I don't feel like doing anything I just want to lay in my bed Don't feel like picking up my phone, So leave a message at the tone Because today I swear I'm not doing anything

I'm going to kick my feet up then stare at the fan Turn the TV on, throw my hand in my pants Nobody's going to tell me I can't

Tomorrow I'll wake up, do some P90X Find a really nice girl, Have some really nice sex And she's going to scream out This is great -Oh my god, this is great-

Oh yes, I said it, I said it I said it 'cause I can

GÉMINIS: Chandelier - Sia

Party girls don't get hurt Can't feel anything, when will I learn? I push it down, push it down I'm the one for a good time call Phone's blowing up, ringing my doorbell I feel the love, I feel the love

I'm going to swing from the chandelier From the chandelier I'm going to live like tomorrow doesn't exist Like it doesn't exist I'm going to fly like a bird through the night Feel my tears as they dry I'm going to swing from the chandelier From the chandelier

But I'm holding on for dear life Won't look down, won't open my eyes Keep my glass full until morning light Because I'm just holding on for tonight Help me, I'm holding on for dear life Won't look down, won't open my eyes Keep my glass full until morning light Because I'm just holding on for tonight On for tonight

CÁNCER: One Way Or Another - Blondie

One way or another I'm going to find you I'm going to get you, get you, get you, get you One way or another I'm going to win you I'm going to get you, get you, get you, get you One way or another I'm going to see you I'm going to meet you, meet you, meet you, meet you One day maybe next week, I'm going to meet you I'm going to meet you, I'll meet you 

I'll walk down the mall Stand over by the wall Where I can see it all, find out who you call Lead you to the supermarket checkout Some specials and rat food Get lost in the crowd 

LEO: Primadonna Girl - Marina And The Diamonds

Primadonna girl, yeah, All I ever wanted was the world, I can't help that I need it all, The primadonna life, the rise and fall, You say that I'm kinda difficult, But it's always someone else's fault, Got you wrapped around my finger, babe, You can count on me to misbehave... Primadonna girl, Would you do anything for me?, Buy a big diamond ring for me?, Would you get down on your knees for me?, Pop that pretty question right now baby... Beauty queen on a silver screen, Living life like I'm in a dream, I know I've got a big ego, I really don't know why it's such a big deal, though...

VIRGO: Boulevard Of Broken Dreams - Green Day

I walk a lonely road The only one that I have ever known Don't know where it goes But it's home to me and I walk alone I walk this empty street On the boulevard of broken dreams Where the city sleeps And I'm the only one and I walk alone I walk alone I walk alone I walk alone and I walk

My shadow's the only one that walks beside me My shallow hearts the only thing that's beating Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me Till then I'll walk alone

LIBRA: Pretty Hurts - Beyoncé

Pretty hurts Shine the light on whatever's worse Perfection is the disease of a nation Pretty hurts Shine the light on whatever's worse Tryna fix something But you can't fix what you can't see It's the soul that needs the surgery

Just another stage Pageant the pain away This time I'm gonna take the crown Without falling down, down

Ain't no doctor or therapeutic that can take the pain away The pain's inside And nobody frees you from your body It's the soul that needs surgery It's my soul that needs surgery Plastic smiles and denial can only take you so far And you break when the paper signs you in the dark You left a shattered mirror And the shards of a beautiful girl

ESCORPIO: Don’t Cry - Guns N’ Roses

Don't you cry tonight I still love you, baby Don't you cry tonight Don't you cry tonight There's a heaven above you baby And don't you cry tonight

Give me a whisper And give me a sigh Give me a kiss before you tell me goodbye Don't you take it so hard now And please don't take it so bad I'll still be thinking of you And the times we had, baby

And please remember that I never lied And please remember how I felt inside Now honey, you got to make it your own way But you'll be alright now, sugar You'll feel better tomorrow Come the morning light now baby 

SAGITARIO: West Coast - Lana Del Rey

Down on the West Coast They got a saying: "If you're not drinking, then you're not playing" But you've got the music You've got the music in you, don't you?

You push it hard I pull away I'm feeling hot and on fire I guess that no one ever really Made me feel that much higher Te deseo cariño, boy it's you I desire Your love, your love, my love

I can see my baby swinging His Parliament's on fire And his hands are up on the balcony And I'm singing oh baby, oh baby, I'm in love I can see my sweet boy swaying He's crazy y cubano como yo my love On the balcony and I'm saying Move baby, move baby, I'm in love...

CAPRICORNIO: Viva La Vida - Coldplay

I used to rule the world Seas would rise when I gave the word Now in the morning I sleep alone Sweep the streets I used to own

I used to roll the dice Feel the fear in my enemy's eyes Listened as the crowd would sing: "Now the old king is dead, long live the king"

I hear Jerusalem bells are ringing Roman cavalry choirs are singing Be my mirror my sword and shield My missionaries in a foreign field For some reason I can't explain I know Saint Peter won't call my name Never an honest word But that was when I ruled the world

ACUARIO: Imagine - John Lennon

Imagine all the people Living for today... Imagine there's no countries It isn't hard to do

Nothing to kill or die for And no religion too Imagine all the people Living life in peace...

You may say I'm a dreamer But I'm not the only one I hope someday you'll join us And the world will be as one

Imagine no possessions I wonder if you can No need for greed or hunger A brotherhood of man Imagine all the people Sharing all the world...

PISCIS: Some Nights - FUN

Some nights I stay up Cashing in my bad luck Some nights I call it a draw Some nights I wish that my lips Could build a castle Some nights I wish they'd just fall off

That's alright, I found a martyr in my bed tonight Stopped my bones From wondering who I, who I am, who I and who am I?

Well some nights, I wish that this all would end Because I could use some friends for a change And some nights, I'm scared you'll forget me again Some nights, I always win, I always win

Duraznito-.