#since toad tower

[agalychnisspranneusroseus]

RiAAU Sasha's complicated relationship with her adoptive parents, Percy and Braddock, stems from an awkward mixture of unconditional love, resentment over their inability to protect her from Grime in her childhood, and their fear of what she's become.

[jaekaicx]

remember how it was a popular hc that sasha would cut his hair short after true colors?

well, why wait?

hc that sasha cuts her hair while shes on the run w grime during toad catcher, partially to try to hide his identity, but also bc hes going through some shit

and then he cuts his hair again later once she and grime make the resistance, bc sasha gave herself a shitty sword haircut and the resistance has a hairstylist so its about time she got his hair fixed

[tkingfisher]

Right! Apropos another post, let’s talk about lawn crayfish aka The Lobsters Beneath Our Feet!

This is Craw-Bob. He’s about three and a half inches long.

Long ago, when I had only gardened in the Southeast for a year or two, I saw an interesting hole in a flowerbed. It was rather deep and had a muddy front porch. I gazed into this hole, thinking “Ooh! Is it a rodent? A snake? A toad?”

And then I saw…the Claw.

It was unmistakably a crustacean claw. And it was in a hole in my yard. My terrestrial yard! Why was there a crustacean in my flowerbed?!

I could not have been more astounded if an octopus tentacle had come flopping out. I ran screaming for my husband and the internet, both of whom said “Yeah, that’s a lawn crayfish, they do that.”

And yes. There are about 400 species of crayfish* in North America, and a not inconsiderable number of them are burrowing species. The devil crayfish, which builds little mud towers, ranges from the Rockies to the Atlantic and as far north as Ontario. There are a number of other species as well. Some are limited to stream banks, but many burrow in lawns, flowerbeds, and other places with consistently damp soil, which means that there is a non-zero chance that when you wander around the grass, a tiny lobster is lurking somewhere beneath your feet.

You would think that more people would know this, but at no point in my life had anyone ever mentioned it to me.

Being me, I immediately set out to determine if other people knew about lawn crayfish and I had just somehow missed it. I took an informal poll—by which I mean I accosted random strangers at the farmer’s market, the coffee shop, and my doctor’s office—and discovered a stark divide. Half the people looked at me like I was telling them I’d seen a lawn chupacabra and the other half looked at me like I’d asked if they’d ever heard of squirrels.

It was not divided by social class or education. The farmer with the heirloom breed hogs knew about them, his wife did not. My nurse practitioner first thought I was hallucinating, then went out into the clinic, and began demanding to know if her co-workers had heard of this. My barista was like “Yeah, mudbugs,” but he’s from Florida, so may not count.

My theory is that if you know they’re there, it’s just a fact of life so obvious that you don’t bother to comment on it, and if you don’t—well, why would you ever assume that any given hole in the ground comes from a goddamn MINI LOBSTER? And since they mostly just hang out underground during the day and don’t really hurt anything, it just doesn’t come up very often, until one day you’re at the farmer’s market, just trying to sell some organic tomatoes, and a wild-eyed woman with a Studio Ghibli T-shirt descends on you yelling “Are you aware of lawn crayfish?!”

(Yes, they’re edible, but it’s a lot of work popping them individually out of their burrows.)

During torrential rains, they will often leave their burrows and wander around, which is how I got the photos of Craw-Bob. My hound spotted him in the garden and poked him with her nose, whereupon Craw-Bob poked back. Hound, not sure what was happening but that it was probably bad, began doing her “release the humans!” alarm bark, and I came out to find her toe to toe with a crustacean who was waving its claws and presumably screaming “Come on if you think you’re hard enough!” in Lobster.

Despite their willingness to fight everything, they’re pretty harmless. The most they do is move soil from underground to a little pile above. I’m sure golf courses hate them. Our local county extension office suggests “These nonprolific creatures should be appreciated like an interesting bird or turtle living on the property.” Some, like the Greensboro burrowing crayfish, are so rare they were thought to be extinct until somebody found one in the backyard.

So. Lawn crayfish. They exist! And could be lurking underfoot as we speak!

*or crawfish, depending on where you’re from.

[hedgehog-moss]

I meant to do some greenhouse cleaning and tidying today because my mum is coming to visit and I don't want to be judged. It involved finally bringing myself to say goodbye to my moribund basil plants (by turning them into pesto) among other things—but my plans were derailed when I took down one of the aquaponics towers and heard a big splash. I thought I'd disturbed a fish that was napping amid the plant roots in the water, but no.... I looked into the fish tank and saw a big frog indignantly swimming away.

I went to get a little dip net and spent a solid half hour trying to fish the frog out—she swam so fast! And was really determined to stay in the fish tank, even when I told her I would put her outside somewhere watery and nice where she could meet frog friends. But I did catch her in the end.

I'd never seen a completely black frog before! When I googled for more info, all I found were photos of the (amazing) African rain frog, which one website compared to an angry avocado.

Back to my tank squatter—she was delicately placed on the edge of the barrel that collects spring water in the pasture and invited to start a new life here, and she morosely sat for quite a while, mulling over her options.

I'm not even lying to you, frog: I found a beautiful toad in the pasture some time ago... I'm moving you from a place of existential alienation (lone frog in fish tank) to a hot spot of batracian life.

I tried to film the moment when the frog accepted her fate and gracefully jumped into the barrel but of course I started filming just a second too late and she refused to come back for a second take. In the meantime, every pasture dweller had noticed that something interesting was happening, and converged towards me. When they found my hands and pockets empty of snacks their reactions ranged from sharp betrayal to distant melancholy.

Pirlouit looked so sad in the rain staring at the horizon, pondering the inherent unfairness of life, I ended up letting him sniff the dip net, like, did you actually WANT to eat a frog?

I know, but this one was too large for you.

Poldine was the only one who didn't resent me for visiting them with a frog and no snacks; she was just happy for the opportunity to kiss someone's cheek.

When I went home and looked at my frog pictures I realised there was an apple floating in the barrel ! which I hadn't seen since I was too focused on the frog. The apple tree has shed nearly all of its fruit by now, it must be one of the last apples of the year... And since entering the pasture with a poor slimy excuse for a snack in my dip net had clearly made a dent in my approval ratings, I decided to go back and offer llamas & donkey the apple along with some vegetable peelings.

Pandolf was intrigued when I fished an apple out of the barrel; he sat down in front of me the way he does to signal that he is a good dog and possibly deserving of good things; but UNLIKE SOME he wasn't disappointed with me when he realised the thing I was holding wasn't meant for him because the world doesn't revolve around him.

.... approval ratings skyrocketing 📈

Look at Pirlouit in the background, startled and horrified as he realises he left the scene to soon!

Look at him leaving a cloud of dust behind him as he rushes towards us!

Don't worry Pirou, I saved you a whole half courgette <3 You can drop the tragic misunderstood persecuted look now.

[homelanderbutbig]

I just need to know how homie handles tiny things. I mean tiny! if someone put a little caterpillar or a toad in his hands what would he do! 😭 (I love your blog btw it always makes me happy! I hope the sun is always shining for you!)

I imagine since he was a kid in the lab, Homelander had to rigourously learn to control his strength. Couple that with him being 8 feet tall, he'd have to have an uncanny mastery of his abilities to simply function in society. And while Vought has stuff custom-made for his size, he probably avoids handling very small things, items that would get lost in his grasp. Anything where in one teensy move he'd break it, because he hates appearing "human" (ie. making mistakes). And if he did break something by accident it'd just make him mad and he'd crush it into dust to make a point, lol.

I think for him it's not just the fear of mistakes, it's the expectation of being judged if he makes a mistake. He has to be perfect after all. But he gets a lot of comfort with the reader's reassurance, that they don't judge him and accept his faults. However... he would 100% be a mess getting passed some itty bitty caterpillar!! Like, they find one outside the Tower and bring it in to show Homie, plopping it on his finger. He'd just fucking freeze, petrified that in one tiny twitch of his finger he'd kill it. Under normal circumstances he'd squish it without a second thought, but he cannot stand disappointing his s/o. He doesn't want to be seen as a destructive monster to them. I don't know if he could even relax until the reader takes it away, haha. Poor big baby. >w>

And I do have a couple fics delving into this concept actually! One fic where he has to deal with a lil' twenty pound dog that sits in his lap, and another fic where he has to pass eggs to the reader when they're making pancakes batter. I should make him handle tiny things more often, it leads to cute scenarios. 😂

Also thank you so much, that means the world to me!! ❤️❤️

[nayatarot777]

messages from deceased loved ones

• pile one •

a lot of your deceased loved ones from far back in your family lineage are coming through. a lot of ancestors who may or may not be remembered by people in the present day. your loved ones who you knew in this lifetime are wanting to let you know how they’ve been united again with those who neither of you knew during your lifetime, and there’s something about them wanting you to remember your roots and your ancestral lineage. it may be quite hidden or unknown, but they’re trying to align something that helps shine a light on the people who came way before you. you have a massive spiritual team thanks to all of these ancestors, and they’re constantly watching over you as your guardians. there’s one main guardian that you have (that you were probably closest to when they were alive) who keeps you protected from people who are looking to use you for something. black cats could be significant to this particular person. perhaps green eyes too. remembering your ancestors will lead you to an awakening. there’s a strong energy of your ancestors having a very significant perspective on life that could benefit you to practice yourself. give offerings to your ancestors in remembrance, if you can. this could be something as simple as burning a tea light candle in commemoration of them. building a connection to your ancestors will push you into this awakening, as they’ll be connected with you enough to give you spiritual downloads at that point. there’s something that they’d like to tell you. and this awakening will add onto your own self-protection and discernment with certain types of people too.

your loved ones are wanting you to remember who you are. not just ancestrally but on a soul level too. to value your authenticity. i feel like they can see that you’re not fully being your true self - because you haven’t remembered who you truly are. they want you to do things FOR YOU. they don’t want you to doubt yourself or your self worth. remember that you are always enough - more than enough. your spiritual guardians are always trying to send you messages about that. for some of you in particular, there’s someone in your life who they’re keeping a close eye on. this person is a straight up toad and your ancestors can see this already. that’s why they’re trying to give you signs about holding onto your self worth, because without it, you’ll fall for this toad and their bs. they’re trying to show you that this person isn’t good enough for you. the way that your awakening can come about is when you allow yourself to have a tower moment. internally. to allow the foundation of your false identity to fall and break down. unplug from other people. relax. do some soul searching for what you find worthy for yourself instead of searching for another person to make you feel worthy. they can’t do that for you since it’s your responsibility. that’s what your deceased loved ones would like to tell you.

patreon

personal readings

youtube

• pile two •

they’d like for you to be a lot more outspoken and speak up for yourself. to say exactly what you mean and not allow yourself to be silenced or swayed by what other people say. they’re around you whenever you have to say something that may be difficult for you to vocalise, on guard in case someone tries to react in a negative way that would affect you. they’re helping you to filter through people’s words and the intentions behind them. this will help you to avoid being manipulated. they’re also asking you to speak to them. to say whatever you want to or needed to when they were alive. they’re still able to hear you. they want you to do this as a step towards letting them go. they feel like you’re holding onto them energetically in somewhat of a negative way. they understand this completely, but they want you to practice grieving and mourning them as a way of moving stagnant energy within your emotional space.

they don’t want you to cling onto them energetically anymore - at least not in the way that you have - because it’s not serving you. it’s holding you back in life and they want you to move forward. you can’t unless you allow yourself to mourn them in it’s entirety and to let them peacefully rest. this will be a gradual and slow process of course, but they want you to start it. they want you to begin healing from their death. they’re really emphasising that you haven’t lost them. you’ve lost their physical form as you know it, but you haven’t lost them spiritually and energetically. remember the law of physics: energy can’t be created or destroyed - only transmuted from one form of energy to another. that means that they can never leave this universe that they exist in. just like the rest of us. our bodies’ energy is transmuted into other material on this physical plane, but our consciousness and our essence is always in existence. letting go of how you knew them in their physical form isn’t losing them spiritually. they’ll still be there. it’s time for healing now. use your awareness of physics and energy to heal you during your grieving process. study the laws of energy if you have to. you’ll realise that what made them who they were (their consciousness and their soul) isn’t gone. they just exist in a different dimension of existence now. a dimension that your physical eyes aren’t aware of but one that your spiritual eyes can see.

patreon

personal readings

youtube

• pile three •

they’re wanting you to take positive action towards the things that you have ambition and inspiration for. they can see that you’re in a vulnerable position right now. it’s like you’re waving a red flag as a sign of needing help - and they’re willing to orchestrate things behind the scenes and provide you what you need. but they can only help you in the spirit realm if you take physical action in the material realm towards what you need. you have to pave the road for them to put blessings and opportunities onto it. there’s a lot of anger that they can see that you have. anger that can be an ingredient to use for transmutation into physical action and motivation. your anger can direct you if you learn how to alchemise it and use it to your benefit. don’t suppress it. embrace it and let it be a compass towards what you need to do and where you need to go for your highest good. i’m hearing them say that anger isn’t ‘bad’. anger is perceived as ‘bad’ by the people who benefit from you not defending yourself. not letting yourself show emotionally that you did/didn’t deserve something and you know it. don’t let them suppress you like that.

there’s advice from your loved ones in the spiritual realm to look beyond the horizons that you feel bound by in your life currently. try to see as far into the future as you can and project a positive view and outlook towards it. even if you feel lost at sea with no idea of where you’re going. pinpoint your consciousness to the ideal of a future that makes you feel true and genuine happiness as a destination point. and pair that with physical action that you’re capable of taking in your present moment. don’t worry about how you’ll get to the destination that you’ve set. pave the road, listen to your transmuted anger that turns into motivation and drive, and follow it. this is the way that your deceased loved one(s) can help course correct your life onto the path that’ll cause you to reach your desired objective.

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personal readings

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[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Binoculars

Debut: Super Mario 3D Land

Wow! What a large and crisp render of Binoculars. This is more than a lot of enemies get. And it's all for Binoculars!

It is nice to see binoculars as an installed apparatus for public use. It reminds me of those binoculars that are sometimes at parks or zoos where you can put in a quarter and get a limited amount of time to look at ducks more closely. Let's look!

Wow! There's a North American Ruddy Duck! in this pond! That's my favorite duck! The blue of the male's bill is probably my favorite color, and they are so cute, especially with their funny proportions. Their head looks too small for their body, but their feet look too BIG for the rest of them! Their feet are large and further back on their body because they are divers who swim down to find food, unlike the dabbling ducks, which keep their butts above the water while foraging. Oops! I forgot that this is a Mario Post and that we aren't actually watching ducks at a pond!

Anyway I just found out those kinds of binoculars are called Tower Viewers. More like Quacker Viewers. Ok on to Mario for real now! Mario, sadly, does not view ducks with these binoculars. They are free, however, which is nice! I'm glad there are ways for everyone to enjoy the Mushroom Kingdom's landscapes at a distance and at no costs. In fact, Mario is sometimes rewarded for using them, as a Toad will throw him a Star Medal upon being seen! A Toad who really wants to bee looked at and goes HAH BAH.

Mario can also see a UFO through the binoculars sometimes! This is often brought up as a Creepy Easter Egg despite the fact that aliens have been present in this franchise since 1989!

With all that about the 3D Land binoculars out of the way, I am really here to say that the binoculars in Odyssey are BETTER. They look like ROB, and overall are a Funny Robot, so they are obviously better by default! They even move around on their own as if they are looking around, and they are really so good at looking, since they are binoculars. I think the binoculars themselves are bird enthusiasts and watch them in delight constantly!

These binoculars even have LORE as seen in the art book, and shared by Suppermariobroth! They are made by the same company as the 3D Land binoculars, and are an older model not capable of stereoscopic 3D! They were installed by the sightseeing company for onsite investigation, and someone has to come and collect the logs from the devices every so often. I seriously love this all sooo much! It is so cute and wonderful that they put this much thought into humble little Binoculars! BinocuLORE!

I would now like to talk about just how these binoculars work! Upon being Captured, they shoot up using spray propulsion (not jet propulsion!!!) and let Mario scope out the area from the sky! Mario got extremely lucky that he happened across these specific binoculars when he happened to have the ability to Capture them, because anyone else using this would be in extreme danger. Please hang on tight!

Binoculars most recently appear in Super Nintendo World, where they are now real! They use the 3D Land design, which makes sense knowing it is canonically the modern design. You can even look at certain things to get little rewards just like in the game! Super Mario in real life! Wa Who!

[george-weasleys-girl]

Heyyy!

I love your writing so much! Can you please write something with the enemies to lovers trope with George? Like, set in the Order Of The Phoenix where George gets detention with Umbridge and the reader comforts him?

Thanks :)

Thank you so much, lovely! I hope you like it!

From Thorns to Flowers

George Weasley x fem!reader

Warnings: a couple of curse words, mention of injury/blood

George stomped out of Umbridge's office and rolled his eyes. Just as he closed the door behind him, Y/N turned the corner and was headed straight in his direction.

Well, this is just fucking great. Of course, it would be his luck that he'd run into her after spending two hours having "I must not be rude" carved into the back of his hand.

He weighed his options. He could high-tail it in the opposite direction, but that would add an extra fifteen minutes through the pouring rain to his walk. Or he could keep going and hope she ignored him. A highly unlikely prospect given that Y/N never gave up a chance to gloat at his misfortune.

After a moment, he sighed and continued on. Sometimes, the only choices you have are shitty ones, but you still have to choose. Picking up his pace, George huddled close to the wall, hoping to blend in with the scenery.

"George?"

Dammit.

"Look, I don't have time to - " He began.

"You ok?" She interrupted, stepping closer.

George froze, staring first at her, then down at his wounded hand that still trickled blood.

Am I hallucinating from the pain?

"George? Are you ok?" She repeated.

"I - I, um, yeah," he sputtered and attempted to push past her.

"Can I see?" She asked, holding out her hand.

George whirled around. "No, you can't!" He snapped. "I'm not in the mood for your - "

"I just want to help!" she snapped back. "If I can..." Her voice grew soft, and she held up a jar of healing salve. "Julia told me what you did. Taking the fall for Thomas."

"Oh, um, that... yeah," George shuffled in place. "Yeah, I did that."

Thomas was a second year Hufflepuff who made the mistake of calling Umbridge a "stupid bitch" a little too loudly. So, rather than condemning poor kid to a torturous evening with the abominable pink toad, George took blame.

And now here he stood, in front of his arch enemy, as she held out her hand to him.

Y/N nodded. "That was really cool, you know."

The corner of George’s mouth quirked up briefly. "Uh, yeah, thanks." He placed his hand in Y/N's.

Her eyes went wide. "Oh geez, George, those cuts are really deep," she leaned forward to examine his wound closer. "Can I put some salve on it? It'll help with the pain."

"Yeah, ok," he nodded. "But can we do this somewhere else?" He inclined his head toward Umbridge's office.

"Oh, right! Of course. Silly me." George watched the rosy blush rise up in her cheeks and wondered how he never noticed how pretty she was before now.

~•~

You could've heard a pin drop the moment they walked into Gryffindor Tower together. George couldn't quite believe it himself. Not since the unfortunate pranking mishap five years ago had Y/N looked at George with anything less than pure loathing.

Not that he could blame her, really. The whole sordid incident set her cloak on fire, leaving her with several burns and a failing grade on an exam she would've otherwise aced.

George watched her carefully wrap the gauze around his hand. "You're the last person I would've expected to be bandaging up my hand."

Y/N shrugged. "Consider it a peace offering."

"Why?"

"Why?" She repeated, eyebrows creasing together. "What do you mean why?"

"I thought you hated me?"

"Hated you?" Y/N sat back. "No. I don't hate you. Not anymore anyway."

"Oh, ok. Well, um, not to sound like a three year old," George said. "But why not?"

"You were a stupid twelve year old when you blew up my cauldron. But you've grown up. You've changed. You actually think before you act... well, most of the time, anyway," Y/N paused and grinned. "And more importantly, you think about someone other than yourself and Fred."

"Like taking the blame for Thomas?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "Among other things."

"So, you've been watching me, huh?" George teased.

"Of course," she crossed her arms. "I had to keep a close eye on you. Make sure you didn't set me on fire again."

"Um..." George rubbed the back of his neck, and a nervous laugh escaped his lips. "Yeah, um, sorry about that."

Y/N shrugged again. "I was more scared than hurt. And pissed. Really, really pissed. I'd studied for that stupid exam for weeks."

"Snape should've never failed you," George said. "It wasn't your fault."

"True. But you and I both know he doesn't give a shit. Tormenting students is his favorite pastime."

George chuckled. "Probably keeps a list of all his favorite child torturing moments and goes back through them to cheer himself up when he's depressed."

Y/N giggled at the thought, "That's peak Snape. Probably gets together with Umbridge - " she began, but stopped when she noticed Fred and Lee sitting in the far corner of the room staring at them. "I - uh - I should probably go."

"What? Why?" George turned briefly to see what caught her attention. "Oh, them? Pay no attention to them."

"It's kinda hard not to when they're boring holes into my brain."

The younger twin turned back around and mouthed something to Fred, bringing a smirk to his brother's face. George rolled his eyes and shifted to look at Y/N again, who was already rising to go.

"It's getting late anyway, and I've got an early morning. Guess I'll see you arou - "

"Would you like to go with me to Hogsmede on Saturday?" The words tumbled out of George’s mouth, freezing in the air between them. "I mean, as, you know, friends. I think we're friends now - "

"Ok."

"Ok? Like ok we're friends or ok we're going to Hogsmede?"

"Yes."

"Yes? T - to both? Or - "

Y/N grinned. "Yes to both."

"Yes, to both! Great!" George returned her grin. "Hogsmede on Saturday it is, then."

~•~

Y/N had barely slept the past three nights. She wasn't lying when she said she'd kept a close eye on George. She certainly had. But as the years passed, it shifted from an act of self-preservation to one of fascination as he slowly matured from the impetuous class clown into the thoughtful, compassionate person he was today. And somewhere along the way, she developed feelings for the freckled red-head. She wouldn't call it love. Admiration, perhaps. Or a kindly affection.

Whatever it was, in recent months, she found herself thinking of him more often and in a more positive light. It was also the reason she decided to lay down her arms and extend the olive branch.

But now, as she tossed and turned for the third night in a row, she began to wonder if something more might've been growing in the hidden corners of her heart.

~•~

"Why am I so nervous?" George muttered to himself as he changed his shirt for the fourth time. Ever since that evening three nights ago, Y/N had been running circles in his mind. He was tempted to ask her if she'd been exhausted the last couple of days but decided that might come off as a little weird.

And weird was the last thing he wanted to be.

Because for some strange reason he couldn't possibly fathom, he wanted to give her the best of himself. In just a few short hours, something had changed between them. And in changing, it changed the way he saw her. Beautiful in a way that went beyond the mere physical. It was as if her very presence lit up like a beacon, calling him to her.

It both terrified and exhilarated him. And he knew he couldn't fuck this up.

~•~

"This is galium ordoratum or sweet woodruff. Made into a tea, it's good for insomina. And the same with this one. Valeriana officinalis," Y/N pointed out another flower.

After a day weaving their way through the overcrowded shops at Hogsmede, they'd decided to make their way back to the castle through the neighboring fields and forest. Along the way, she began pointing out herbs and plants and what they were used for in the muggle world.

"How do you know all this?" George asked. "These aren't usually the sorts of plants Professor Sprout teaches in Herbology."

"My mom's an herbalist. A muggle one."

"Really? That's so cool!" George smiled. "I didn't know muggles used herbs and flowers for healing, too.

"Yeah, she thinks I could blend magical and muggle herbal knowledge and come up with some really amazing stuff."

"I agree," he smiled. "So you're going to become a Herbologist?"

"That's the plan," she grinned.

George nodded and noticed a cluster of flowers in the bright sunlight. "What's that?"

"Oh, that's Achillea millefolium. It's really good to help stop bleeding."

"And those?" He pointed at a small grouping of purple flowers.

"Digitalis purpurea. Foxglove. It's highly toxic, but in the right doses, it can help with some heart conditions."

"Oh wow... What about that one?"

"Hypericum perforatum."

"Hypericum perforatum," he repeated.

Something in George’s voice had changed. It'd grown softer and a little breathless, causing her to stumble over her words. "A - and this one is.... is... feverfew. I can't remember the scientific name. It's... um... it's good for fevers."

"Feverfew," he whispered. "Good for fevers."

She moved her hand to touch another flower. "Dead nettle. Lamium purpureum. It's ok to touch it. It won't sting."

"Lamium purpureum," he repeated, his voice almost a caress now.

"This little one is ....." Y/N breathed, reaching for another flower. Her hand brushed against his, and she realized why she was so nervous.

George wasn't looking at any of the flowers she was naming. He was looking at her.

Their eyes met, and for a brief moment, the world stopped turning. Neither of them would remember the seconds before they kissed, but that first kiss would be burned into their memories forever. It was soft and sweet and a little hesitant at first, then, growing bolder and deeper until the only thing they knew was each other.

"Does this mean we're officially not enemies anymore?" George asked after a few minutes.

"I think it means so much more than just that," Y/N smiled, reaching out to caress his cheek.

George smiled from ear to ear. "So, um, does that mean I can kiss you again?"

"Anytime. Anyplace," she mummered, pulling him back to her.

~•~

@milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @xmjthewitchx @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley @samberriejams @nighttimemoonlover @jsjcue @wzrd-wheezes @mrsgweasley @hufflepuffie @morally-grey-obsessed @fredweasleyyyyy @anvaaryn @samshifts @asuperconfusedgirl @hmisa11 @superduckmilkshake @mysticsheepsoul @gemofthenight @1lellykins @junerprsh @sierraluvz @wolfkill16 @kaysau2510 @qmylovexoxo @planetkt @costheticbabe

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[furaneesu]

just realized i have not posted these here, but here's a beta sasharcy for everyone (because i think they should hold hands and kiss)

teeny brainrot ahead: When I see these designs of Sash and Mar, i just think, "hey they look like they work together", so it's kind of like the same as back in earth? Marcy and Sasha already work together as we know it, but they get transported to Amphibia and end up in one place together (while Anne was transported all by herself in Wartwood), and since then they've been working together a lot. With Andrias emphasizing that Sasha can act on-field and with the army, while Marcy is in charge of all the strategizing and planning, they're barely seen in separate, and if they were separate, it was Sasha visiting the toad towers, and Marcy being left in Newtopia to handle all the other stuffs (like doing research, helping fix stuffs, the usual Marcy stuffs y'know)

[hannahbarberra162]

Country Mouse, City Mouse

On Ao3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

Multi chapter fic but not too long. All fluff no bite.

Synopsis: you pass by a gothic looking castle and see a pale man working his land. He doesn’t seem to know much about farming, but you do. You offer to work for him in exchange for room, board, and a little money. You’ve never met anyone like him, but more importantly, he’s never met anyone like you.

In other words, grumpy x sunshine with Mihawk and you. 

Fluff, no angst. During the time skip, so some brief scenes with Perona and Zoro later on.

18+ MDNI.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were walking alone along a dirt path, passing some interesting landscape. You’d been dropped off at this gloomy island at your insistence. The crew of the ship you were sailing on had tried to warn you about someone or something other who lived here, but you paid no heed. Even though it was overcast, you could tell that the island’s land would be suitable for farming. If it wasn’t, then oh well, you’d continue on your way. You didn’t worry too much about it, things always seemed to fall into your lap.

As you were walking, you spotted a large castle in the distance. Surprised, you changed direction to head towards it. You wanted to see if anyone lived her,e like the sailors said. You heard some screeching in the distance - maybe there were monkeys on the island? No problem, you were good with animals.

Walking towards the castle, you see that someone had been farming the land. Well, trying to farm the land. You can see someone was working diligently but made many rookie mistakes. You perked up even more - maybe you could be hired as a farm hand. That would be ideal since you liked farming and earning money but didn’t want to settle down anywhere for too long. You kept walking and saw a pale man in ornate clothes and a wide rimmed black hat (with a plume!) kneeling down to weed a bed of oil berries.  He had a huge sword strapped to his back that surely wasn’t a farming implement. He looked a little incongruous with the setting, but you shrugged. You’d farmed in all kinds of clothes, you didn’t judge. 

Walking up to the man, you said with a wide smile, “need a hand?”

The man looked up stared at you, yellow eyes boring into your own. He didn’t answer you but stood up, towering over you. He crossed his arms and continued staring intensely. He gave off an intimidating aura. Or, tried to. You weren’t scared.

You persisted, saying “You sure you don’t want help shug*?  You’re not gonna get a drop of that crop if you continue like that.”

The man finally answered in a cold voice “whatever do you mean?”

“Well, you got girded toads in the bed.”

“And?”

“Girded toads mean you also got parsley flies.”

“And? Get to the point.”

You raised an eyebrow. “That is the point. If you got parsley flies, they’ve already laid eggs in the current berry crop. You gotta get rid of the current crop or the whole season will be ruined and you’ll be eating nothin’ but bugs. You don’t know much about oil berries, huh?”

The man didn’t answer, but the way he looked over at the berries told you you’d hit your mark.

“This your place?”

“I reside in this castle, yes.”

“You wanna hire me for the season?”

“For what?”

“As a farm hand. I been doin’ this a long time. I see you’ve been workin’ real hard, but you’re gonna need help if you wanna be eatin’ these vegetables by season’s end. I reckon I can get your farm growin’ a bumper crop if the creek don’t rise.”

“There is no creek on the island. There is, however, a large river that runs north of here.”

You were confused, and said “don’t need one, shug. So whaddyou say? Try me out for a few days and if it ain’t workin’ out I’ll pack my bags and go. No hard feelin’s. I don’t cost much, just room, board, and 20% of the crop’s harvest.”

The man was silent for a minute, but you knew you had him hook, line, and sinker.

“5%.”

“15%”

“10%”

“Done,” you said with a smile. You held out your calloused hand “it’s a deal.”

*meant to be read as “shoog,” short for sugar. 

Mihawk’s POV

He had been industriously weeding his berry plants when you showed up, wearing a large sunhat, overalls covered in dirt, and a radiant smile on your face. You were a lovely looking woman who did not have any shoes on her feet or a care for her own life it seemed. He had sensed someone new was on the island, but waited until they revealed themselves before he attacked. You did not know how lucky you were - Mihawk had killed many would-be assassins sight unseen on the island. But he had held his hand to see what you would do. He had not anticipated that you would offer your farming services.

Indeed, you did not seem like a warrior - one look at the well used tools poking out of your pockets, the dirt under your fingernails, and your calloused hands suggested you were a farmer as you claimed. He did appreciate your advice about the berry crop, something he would double check in one of his farming books later. He spoke with you briefly, making a deal for your labor in exchange for some food and money. 

He felt you posed less of a threat to him than the mandrills. But one could never be too careful. Faster than you could see, he unsheathed Yoru and held it to your neck. You took half a step back, but were otherwise unphased by his sudden assault. You frowned and said “well, if this is your version of hospitality, I think we’d better split ways now.”

“I am Dracule Mihawk, one of the Seven Warlords of the sea, strongest swordsman alive. I do not take kindly to those who would seek to attack me.” He loomed over you with the same intensity that made seasoned Grand Line pirates quake in their boots.

“Duly noted. I’m Y/N, I’m currently a farm hand for Dracule Mihawk, strongest swordsman alive. Now that we’ve made introductions, can you put down the sword? I don’t much care for knives to my throat.”

You had courage and a steely spine it seemed. Mihawk was intrigued. Most did not have the gumption to speak to him the way you did. Perhaps this farm hand arrangement would work out well.

[noelle-rambles]

Trio headcanons bc I can

Anne has extremely fast reflexes ever since toad tower

Sasha bites her nails when she gets extremely anxious sometimes to the point where they bleed the only times that they got that bad that her nails to bleed was during her parent's divorce trials (that she was forced to go to since they didn't have a babysitter for her) and during the rebellion but only on the hand that was covered by the sharp glove so that when and if Anne got back Anne wouldn't worry about her

Marcy has been caught humming no big deal during class when she moved states, but no one else knew what she was humming except her

Sasha started to braid Anne and Marcy’s hair when they started growing longer

Sasha has BPD and scoliosis Anne has narcolepsy and ADD Marcy has autism and OCD

Marcy got phantom pain from the core and Anne sometimes feels like she’s dying again and has to be reminded that she isn’t dead (Sasha’s scoliosis probably got worse bc of the core)

Marcy pirates things, but mostly from greedy people (Ty rsmg<3)

People assume that the trio were the sweetest people in their childhood because of how they are now but Anne has gotten in trouble with the FBI Sasha has almost been caught by the police multiple times and Marcy well see prev headcanon

[l0stfoster]

Hi!! so I know u said that paul has a cat familiar and I was curious about how witches actually get a familiar and how that works within the cursed au! like are they just an animal companion or do they have special abilities?

obsessed with the cursed au I love it so much🫶

Witch familiars in this AU are a mix of two things; their physical being is a manifestation of the witches' power, but their being in itself is something of a spirit. After a witch's power manifests, the familiar itself will appear sometime afterward. Paul's likely appeared way back when he was a kid, but his parents actively kept her away until their attempt to repress his power threw her into a sort of remission as well. She returned when he got his magic back, but he didn't get to see her until he was kicked out and she slipped out and followed. The familiars are typically small animals like cats, owls, toads, etc; the most common kind for Paul's bloodline is a feline. They usually have their own personalities too. Paul's mother would've had a familiar too, but she actively acted to force it out of existence permanently using her magic. It's probably good to mention that she's a really powerful witch. All that hate manifests really well into your magic, especially since their magic is tied to emotions as well. In Paul's case with Umbra, she assists with his fuckass magical tasks, provides some protection to him, or just aids in his spellcasting by channeling energy n giving him guidance as needed. However, Paul's very independent by nature, and so she commonly settles to sit off to the side and look pretty. She's also just,, a little distracting, likes her attention. Paul can channel his magic into her and vice versa; she can leech onto his energy through her own free will as well- we've discussed multiple instances where she can physically grow or shrink in size depending on the intent of the magic as well if that makes sense. I've got art plans for that. She abides by a lot of the stereotypical cat behavior, so people usually forget what she really is until she acts out. It's hard to remember this is an entire magical being, one partially made up of unstable witch magic until you've got this BEAST of a feline towering over you for even daring to look at her human with malicious intent. She's very protective of him.

[agalychnisspranneusroseus]

I hear the Marcy angst is very heavy in RiA so i'm gonna list some nice things that happen to her in this AU

Meeting her girls! Anne became her first friend when she visited Newtopia for the first time around age 6 and they've been penpals ever since! Marcy isn't allowed to leave Newtopia but Anne manages to visit every two or three years. She has to keep it all secret from her father, which causes her some pretty nerve wrecking anxiety because she's not allowed to keep secrets, but Lady Olivia always helps her deliver her letters in secret.

Meeting Sasha was a bit more chaotic but perhaps even more romantic. It happened shortly after the beginning of the war, though Marcy had no idea there was a war at all. All she knew was that she had a terrible fight with her father, and then she saw two beautiful, giant herons perched on the towers of the palace. The heavy rain and thunder, and the darkness of night, masked their presence. They were tame - she could tell from the saddles they sported, so in a moment of desperation, she climbed onto one, and when their owner showed up and took the other, she guided them away from Newtopia, into the stormy night. Sasha had traveled all the way there from Frog Valley to release some important toad prisoners, not realizing she was accidentally taking one of her own. She could barely see in the rain and darkness, only realizing she wasn't alone when she reached Toad Tower and a small human girl, probably her age, fell from the other heron's saddle and nearly crashed into the ground - if it weren't for Sasha to catch her. This was bad. Really really bad. She didn't have the forces or resources to resist a direct attack from Newtopia, which would surely be coming when they realized the princess was missing. As much as she'd love to take this oportunity to use her as a hostage, they were in terrible conditions to play that card. She tells her she'll return her as soon as the rain subsides, and in the meantime she plays nice - if she princess didn't know they were at war, well, there was no reason to scare her. She easily earns her trust and tries to get information from her, but she seems too distracted by the fact that Sasha is, well, like her. She calls it "having the same condition". Sasha thinks it's best not to confuse her by telling her their species is called "human". Interrogating her is hard - the princess seems to be the one asking all the questions, and... okay, Sasha had to admit she was adorable. She almost misses her when she's gone.

Getting Joe Sparrow! A gift from Sasha - he arrived to her balcony one night with a note attached to his saddle, telling her to keep him secret from her father. It felt bad to keep secrets, but her late night flights away from Newtopia made her forget everything else.

Exploring the palace's secret corridors with Lady Olivia! Much like her, Olivia grew up in the palace and knew all the little corners to hide and secret rooms to explore. She really likes Lady Olivia. She never feels anxious with her.

Playing flipwart with her dad! It wasn't all bad. Her childhood had happy days too. She had a lot of happy memories with her father. He was nice most of the times.

He put her in that chair when she slept and plugged her to the machine. She has a strange cable port in the back of her neck. He read through her journal. He told her a father's love was the greatest thing there was , and that no one would love her as much as he did. Years later, she thinks he was right. She doesn't think anyone but him could experience love in that way.

The first time Anne saw her with short hair. She'd cut it all a few days back and she was still feeling self-conscious of it, but Anne's face lit up when she saw her, and she tangled her fingers in her black strands and ruffled them and found them so soft and adorable that she couldn't keep her hands off of them. Anne's eyes on her always made her feel special. Her hands, too. Marcy loved to be touched, especially by Anne. She hoped her love of touch never came across as weird, but the feeling of warm, dry skin against hers sends sparks of happiness all through her body.

She disappeared one day without warning. She took with her the box. She knew she'd fought with her family the day before, but she'd thought... she'd thought she'd come to her and Sasha before leaving all of a sudden. She thought she'd talk to them if something bothered her. But she left. Gone without a trace

Sasha teaching her to fight! She preferred crossbows over swords, and Sasha could work with that. She helped her position her body the right way to shoot, sending shivers down her spine. She decided that day that she loved Sasha's touch too. Anne and Sasha's touch had a special effect on her. It was always comfortable. While her father's touch always made her feel uneasy, like she was hugging a stranger, her girls' hands on her arms, shoulders, her chest... they always made her feel so grounded and warm and safe.

She's sure Sasha will never again feel safe under Marcy's touch after what she did to her. Her hands will forever he stained with her blood now, and no amount of "it wasn't you" or "you didn't want to do it" takes the horror away.

Learning Anne and Sasha were in love. After so many years of... well, trying to kill each other, Marcy was always terrified of having to choose between them, but almost as if by miracle, she came together to save her, and seemed to have bonded quite a bit in the process.

It was Anne who brought up the idea. She was worried Marcy would be intimidated by it, as polygamy tends to have unfortunate implications, but she and Sasha hated pretending they didn't love each other in front of Marcy, hated keeping it a secret, hated that Marcy thought she was the only one in their hearts. It felt like betrayal. So... they shyly told her, and to their relief, she was... so, so happy. She hugged them both super tight, and when Anne suggested that they gave the relationship a try, they happily accepted. No more secrets. No more shame, or fear, or distrust, just the three of them and their unconditional love.

Her wedding wad one of the happiest days of her life. She was sixteen, and so were her brides. It was certainly an unusual marriage, but as queen, she could take two consorts if she pleased. Anne's family was there, as well as Sasha's adoptive parents, Percy and Braddock. Lady Olivia was there too. She never thought the day would come. She never thought she'd be allowed to marry, and never in her wildest dreams did she dare to hope she'd get to have both of her loves. Yet here they were, in front of her, about to bond their lives to hers forever. 'Til death do them apart.

[mrs-luigi-vargas]

something must be wrong (with me)

Rating: General Audiences Characters: Bowser, Mario, Toad Relationships: Bowser/Mario Tags: Sickfic, Sick Mario, AU - Rapunzel Fusion, Humor, Pre-Relationship

Summary: Visiting Mario in his tower had inexplicably become something routine, for Bowser. Until this visit, when Mario doesn’t answer Bowser’s calls for him. Prompts: Medieval Treatment, Clean Sheets Word Count: 2,116 words

[AO3 Link] [Link to Series]

~~~

It really should have been concerning, how routine arriving at Mario’s tower felt.

Despite it only being a few short months since beginning to do so, Bowser was pretty sure he could navigate the route from his castle to the tower in his sleep. And he did, sometimes. In his dreams, to be precise. Which was always weird, because hardly anything would happen when he would get there; he’d climb to the top and...nothing, except for a faint sense of anxiousness. It would also be weird because what the hell was he dreaming about visiting Mario for? Maybe it was a sign he needed to stop visiting him.

But then again, it was only a few days ago when he’d woken up with nothing urgent on his desk for the first time in forever and his kids off visiting friends in a neighboring kingdom and no meetings on the horizon, and the first thing he’d thought of was not how long he could get away with staying in bed nor gracing a nearby town or two with his presence nor tending to his neglected musical instruments. No, the first thing he'd thought about had been walking down this very path and getting up that tower.

So, clearly, something was wrong with him.

And you know what else was wrong?

The fact that Bowser got to the base of the tower, yelled up for Mario, and received absolutely no response. No matter how loud he got in his repeated attempts. Bowser ground his teeth, fuming. So much for those dreams.

“Hello!”

Bowser started, badly. Below him, in his blind spot, a Toad had snuck up and was peering up at him with a cheery smile that barely masked his wariness. “You’re...Bowser, right?”

Unbelievable. As if he wasn't the leader of the army that besieged this Toad’s kingdom in attempts to take it over every few weeks for the past few years. “It’s King Bowser, you worthless pip-squeak,” he growled, and was satisfied to see the Toad’s face reflecting the level of fright someone should have, standing in his presence.

“R-right!” The Toad swallowed nervously. “So, um...I’m...I’m the Mail Toad...”

Bowser raised an eyebrow.

“W-well I’m not actually a real Mail Toad it’s just that no one else wanted to deliver letters all the way out here because of the distance and danger but I don't mind danger or long trips or anything and Mario deserved to get his mail because he’s Mario right so I volunteered to deliver it and then I had to take an exam which was really hard and —”

“Shut up!” Bowser snapped. The Toad skittered back a few steps, shutting up.

A muscle in Bowser’s jaw twitched. He looked up one more time at the tower. Well, fine. If Mario thought he was too good to see him, then that was that. See if he decided to visit ever again.

“W-wait!” the Toad shouted after Bowser as he started to walk away. Bowser ignored him, but the Toad barreled on. “You’re here to visit Mario, right? You usually climb the tower!”

Bowser glared over his shoulder. “No, I’m not,” he said. “Not if the chump’s ignoring me.”

“W-well —! He’s been ignoring me, too!” The Toad held up a parcel of mail. “I haven't been able to deliver this since I got here yesterday!”

At that, Bowser turned fully. It was one thing for Mario to decide not to see him, but to also refuse mail from his family? He had to admit that wasn't like him at all.

“Yeah,” the Toad continued, more confidently now that he had Bowser’s attention. “A-and I saw the lights on the way here, so he’s definitely still up there —”

Of course he’s still up there; he’s literally cursed to be up there.

“— so unless something’s wrong...” the Toad’s voice trailed off. He gasped, looking stricken. “...What if...” he whispered, “what if he died?!”

“He’s not dead.” Bowser rolled his eyes. “He’s just being annoying. And I don't wanna deal with annoying. I’m out of here.”

“But but but!” The Toad wrung his hands together. “Can’t you check on him?” he pleaded. “You’re the only one who can get up there!”

“He’s not dead!” Bowser insisted, rankling at being ordered around by a Toad.

“But what if he is?!”

And wasn't that the question. The stupidest question imaginable, because Mario wasn't dead. Even if this behavior was abnormal, because Mario craved visitors more than a sunflower craved the sun. Or even if they really had no way of knowing for sure unless he went up there himself. Or even if Bowser was remembering that faint sense of anxiousness from his dreams.

Bowser stomped over to the Toad. “Give me the damn mail,” he spat.

The Toad’s demeanor switched in an instant from despair to relief. He beamed. “Thank you!” he said, passing the mail parcel to Bowser.

As soon as Bowser had the parcel in hand he swiped at the Toad with the other, claws inches away from his face. Just to remind the Toad who was the boss, here. But while the Toad flinched and was quick to get his distance, he didn't look nearly as scared as he should have been.

“Y-you can't hurt me!” the Toad declared, exuding false confidence. “Mario would be upset if you did!”

Something in Bowser’s face spasmed. The Toad’s bravado swiftly evaporated, but enough remained for him to reach over his shoulder and draw a weapon. “I-I’m not scared of you,” he lied, very obviously shaking. “I-I know how to use this frying pan! The Princess taught me!”

...Bowser’s seen the way Peach wielded that thing. Bah. He stormed off towards the tower without another word. What a weird Toad.

---

Bowser had only meant to check if Mario was dead, drop off his stupid mail, and then get out.

He’d pried the giant window at the top open, and stepped into a room full of stale air. When he’d called Mario’s name he’d been met with some shuffling noises and a soft groan. That should have been enough to prove Mario wasn't dead, but something had still compelled him to make his way to the lump on the bed in the corner. He'd peeled back the blankets to reveal a Mario shivering and sweating, curled up into a ball, radiating heat enough to make Bowser’s scales sweat, clearly sick with...something. Bowser'd had no clue what. For his sake, he'd hoped it was milder than it looked, considering the closest doctor was days away.

Yes, he’d meant to leave him there and go home, because there was no way he was staying long enough for the fever to latch on to him and thus be brought back to his kids; that would be a nightmare. But as Bowser had removed his hand from checking Mario’s temperature Mario had subconsciously chased it, and his breath had hitched and he’d murmured his brother’s name in the hoarsest, saddest voice Bowser had ever heard and then the next Bowser knew he was hanging Mario’s freshly washed sheets out on the windowsill. He watched them flutter in the breeze, trying to rationalize how he’d gotten to this point. What the heck was wrong with him, that that’d been all it took for him to start acting like...like Kamek? Ugh.

A light squeaking noise caught Bowser’s attention. Just outside the window, a rope-and-pulley system was moving; a small bucket rose up, with the only thing in it a note. Is Mario dead? it read, a crude drawing of a near-crying Toad right next to it.

Instead of burning the note to a crisp like he wanted to, Bowser instead marched over to Mario, who was parked at the table with broth and bread and his bundle of letters. Bowser slammed the note down on the table. “Say something so he stops being annoying,” he demanded.

It took a moment for Mario to process the command, but when it hit him that Toad was still waiting at the base of the tower he sprung up in a burst of energy to look for something to write with. And then he immediately started to sway dangerously from the sudden movement. Bowser reached across and pushed him back into his chair. “Dumbass,” he muttered under his breath, grabbing a pen off Mario’s desk.

But despite Mario’s sudden urgency, he wasn't actually in a headspace to write anything, only managing a shaky, overlarge N and O underneath Toad’s question before his energy ran out and he just sat there, the ink from his pen bleeding a dark splotch onto the paper. With a huff, Bowser snatched the pen from Mario’s hand, and, turning the note around, scribbled a rough He’s just sick fuck off at the bottom. He tied the note to a spare paperweight off the desk and dropped it out the window, half-hoping it would hit the Toad.

It didn't, evidenced by the bucket going down and then coming up, with the paperweight and the note inside it with Toad’s response: Ok, I’ll tell the Princess — a drawing of a Toad, grinning — take care of him! Far below, the Toad wandered around, cleaning up his campsite.

“I’m gonna kill that guy,” Bowser muttered. Mario frowned at him.

...Damn it.

The sun dried the sheets quickly, so Bowser brought them indoors. Mario watched Bowser throw them onto the bed with an odd expression on his face. It was an expression he’d been wearing almost the entire time he’d been cognizant Bowser had been here; it was like he didn't believe Bowser was here at all. Which was ridiculous. Mario wouldn't be able to hallucinate Bower’s greatness properly without a visual aid.

Regardless, with Mario constantly distracted Bowser had to keep aggressively reminding him to finish his damn lunch. Because after the effort it took to make it Mario had better not waste it or he’d be wishing he’d burnt to a crisp from the fever. But that threat didn't land quite right, and it left Mario smiling into his bowl. And instead of paying any examination to his own reaction to that, Bowser jumped at the first bit of busywork he could get his hands on to distract himself, which happened to be making Mario’s bed. Which would have been fine, if not for the fact that this was the precise moment where all the years of ignoring Kamek’s nagging to make his bed instead of passing the chore off to the servants finally came back to bite him.

Frustrated, Bowser threw the sheets haphazardly onto the mattress and gave up, sitting on the floor with his arms crossed sullenly. Mario, finished with his food, wandered over to stare at him. “What?” Bowser growled. “Your brain cooked? Go lie down so I can get outta of here.”

Mario blinked at him. He shuffled closer, glancing between Bowser and his bed in hazy consideration. And then, like a puppet with its strings cut, he let himself fall. Right on top of Bowser.

“Wh - ?” Bowser froze, arms splayed out, as Mario curled himself up right on top of him, heedless of Bowser’s sputtering. And there was a lot of sputtering, with his face burning as hot as the weight of Mario on his legs. In an attempt to save face, the sputtering turned to rambling about how you know fine, he could — and should! — push Mario off him right now but he won't, because Mario was looking uniquely pathetic today and he was a generous king. So Mario should feel thankful. And lucky, too, because they say a King’s touch could cure even the worst illnesses, you know. There used to be lines of people stretching out the castle based on those rumors. Until the old man got pissy about all the sickness floating around or whatever, and made a bunch of coins we could claim could cure people in the same way ‘cause he touched them, but he didn't actually though ‘cause that would just be a whole pain in the ass, and —

Mario wasn't listening to a word Bowser said, because Mario was fast asleep. The rush of annoyance Bowser felt at being ignored was strong, but more distant than it usually would have been. And the longer he stared at Mario’s sleeping face, infinitely more peaceful than it had been mere hours ago, the more his indignation slipped away, and with it went the idea to move Mario off his lap at all. In its place, he was filled with...something else. Something way...lighter, than the circumstances would ever warrant.

He really needed to figure out what was wrong with him.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

the most important question in a world: where the pets poop in Hogwarts? who heals them if they sick? who feeds them? what if student has allergy? is there a possibility to have allergy to a magical pet? a magical allergy?

pets in wizarding world my beloved

I mean, the owls are in the owlery in the West Tower, so they pop and eat in the owlery:

The Owlery was a circular stone room, rather cold and drafty, because none of the windows had glass in them. The floor was entirely covered in straw, owl droppings, and the regurgitated skeletons of mice and voles. Hundreds upon hundreds of owls of every breed imaginable were nestled here on perches that rose right up to the top of the tower, nearly all of them asleep, though here and there a round amber eye glared at Harry. He spotted Hedwig nestled between a barn owl and a tawny, and hurried over to her, sliding a little on the dropping-strewn floor.

(GoF)

Also, considering mice and vole skeletons litter the ground, it seems the owls are just allowed to freely hunt in the forest and the areas around Hogwarts.

As for cats and toads, we don't really know. My guess is that the common rooms have litter boxes for the cats that the house elves clean up.

Toads are usually kept in terrariums as pets and pop there. It's honestly kinda weird toads are just, held and stuff since I read some toad pet-keeping advice and they tell you to never handle toads without rubber gloves. Skin oil can harm a pet toad and toads have toxic glands on their skin, so, like, I don't know what Neville is doing with Trevor, man. I assume the pet toads wizards have are magical, and therefore are more durable and have less toxic glands. Perhaps their magicalness allows them to be intelligent enough to poop in a specific designated area. Or, maybe, the common rooms occasionally have tiny toad poop on the floor at random places and the house elves are in a constant war against it.

Regarding food, I think it's kinda like with the owls. As in, cats hunt whatever is around the castle or eat human food and toads catch insects themselves. The cats possibly have cat food in stations in the common rooms as well, but that's a maybe. I couldn't find anything about it.

Scabbers, as a pet that wasn't on the list of allowed pets, probably was fed and taken care of by Percy and Ron since the facilities weren't in place.

Regarding pet allergies, apparently, Hagrid is allergic to cats:

Tell yeh what, I’ll get yer animal. Not a toad, toads went outta fashion years ago, yeh’d be laughed at — an’ I don’ like cats, they make me sneeze. I’ll get yer an owl. All the kids want owls, they’re dead useful, carry yer mail an’ everythin’.

(PS)

And we know nothing was really done for Hagrid's allergy as students are allowed to bring cats to school quite freely. I'd guess they have a potion that works similarly to (or more effectively than) regular antihistamines for allergies. If magic can fix an allergy, it makes sense they won't be overly worried. Also, since when is Hogwarts particularly concerned about student safety? especially for something wizards would consider as petty of a concern as allergies.

But the long and short of it is that if you want your pet at Hogwarts to be well taken care of, bring an owl as they have the most facilities in place.

[angelatmidnight1]

Brotherly Love

Ramazith’s Tower is under new leadership thanks to Tav and Dame Aylin��s efforts. Rolan moved Cal and Lia in immediately. He wants them to feel at home in their new home. But, by the Gods, he has more rules than the Counting House has vaults. Don’t touch this, put that back, why’re you touching it in the first place? Cal and Lia don’t want their dear brother to become the stereotype of a grumpy old wizard. So, they take it upon themselves to get him to lighten up. 

Arabellan Dry is Rolan’s favorite wine. It got him through the hard nights in the Shadowlands, when he wasn’t sure if he’d see Cal and Lia alive again.

 Now, after being reunited with his siblings and having full control of Ramazith’s Tower, he swore it tasted even better. 

Wine and books are a complimentary pair. Rolan poured himself a glass and went to recline in his favorite chair. He was in the process of decoding an ancient tome that Lorrokan refused to share with him. He came to realize that the bastard kept it from him because he knew he’d figure it out, and do it a damn sight better. He took a long sip from the glass and set it down, sliding into the plush chair. After a deep sigh, he put the glass on a nearby end table, then reached for where he left the tome. 

Only it wasn’t there. 

Rolan’s brow furrowed in confusion. He got up and looked under the table, thinking it may have fallen, but it wasn’t there either. It wasn’t like him to misplace things, and he hadn’t had enough wine to make him forgetful. Suddenly, there was the sound of shuffling feet, followed by two mischievous giggles. 

Rolan pinched his eyes closed. He exhaled slowly through his nose. He was ecstatic to be reunited with his siblings, and even that was an understatement. He would’ve walked through all nine of the hells if it meant saving them. But, he was still getting used to their regular company and, by default, their mischief. 

The wizard rose to his feet and turned towards the sound. Lo and behold, Cal and Lia stood at the doorway, grinning. Rolan glowered; he did not have the time or desire to play these games. 

“Give me my tome back at once,” Rolan demanded, which only made their smiles widen. “I’m serious. I have no patience for this!”

Cal looked around, as if looking for a fourth person, only to make a big show of realization. “Oh, you’re talking to us?” He chuckled, “I’m surprised you remembered us at all given you’ve spent more time with your books than us.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Rolan scoffed. “Once I finish my studies, I make sure to spend ample time with both of you. Right now, you are preventing me from doing so since you stole my tome. So I ask again: Give. me. my. book.”

“Well I don’t have it,” Cal emphasized his point by raising his hands in surrender. His tail flicked behind him in amusement as he glanced at his sister. “Lia?”

“What, you mean this old thing?” Lia produced the book from behind her back. Rolan let out an exasperated growl. “Didn’t realize it was so important. There’s only a million like it in this tower.”

“That ‘old thing’ may be the difference between me keeping this tower or us being forced out onto the streets,” Rolan barked. He stomped over to them. Neither Cal nor Lia moved to run. Rolan went to swipe the book out of Lia’s hands, but she tossed it to Cal at the last minute. “Zurgan, hand it over at once!”

Cal held the book over his head. “Or what?” He laughed, holding it just out of his reach. “Gonna lash out and turn us into toads?”

“That’ll be the least I do, if you’re lucky.” Rolan almost had it until Cal tossed it back to Lia, prolonging the game of keepaway. Rolan’s already red face grew a shade darker. Lia could tell he was ready to explode. Instead of throwing the book again, she held it out to him. 

“Alright, alright, don’t blow a gasket. Here’s your precious book.” 

Rolan snatched it out of her hands. Usually, Lia snapped at him for being so brusque, but that wasn't the purpose of her and Cal’s visit. “We’ve just missed you, Rolan,” she huffed, “We know how important your studies are, but we hardly see you!”

Rolan checked the cover and pages for any damages. “As I’ve said,” he grumbled, “I will join you once I’ve finished here. If you stop bothering me, I will finish sooner rather than later.”

“Fine, we’ll go. Just one more thing first?” Lia stepped in front of him, arms extended out to the side. “Can you give your little sister a hug?”

Rolan took a step back. His eyes narrowed with a mix of confusion and suspicion. “A hug?”

“Yes, a hug.” Lia smiled sweetly. “Surely that isn’t too much to ask for before you go back to reading these dull books.”

Rolan hesitated for a split second. Then, he turned away with a haughty huff. “You can’t be serious.”

Lia’s smile faded. She lowered her arms, deflated. “I don’t always want to fight, you know. Just…a real hug, for once?”

After a long beat, Rolan let out a reluctant sigh. He rolled his eyes and moved closer. “Fine, if it’ll get you to leave me in peace.”

As soon as he was within reach, Lia stepped forward and pulled him into a hug. Rolan resigned, but barely had time to wrap his arms around her when he felt a sudden grip on his shoulders—Cal had snuck up from behind.

Wha—Cal!?” Rolan yelped, trying to pull out of his grip, only to be pulled flushed against his chest. Cal held onto him firmly as he struggled. And, before Rolan could make another indignant demand, he felt Lia’s fingers worming up his sides. 

Oh hells, he thought. Not tickling. Not something as ridiculous and childish as—

The fluttering ticklish sensations yanked him out of his thoughts. He squirmed more vigorously in his brother’s hold, gritting his teeth to keep the laughter at bay. 

“Gotcha~” Lia sang, her fingers darting from his sides to his tummy. His robes did little to block out the ticklish sensations and, when she moved her hands underneath to knead her thumbs into the spot, his shirt offered even less protection. 

Rolan growled, spewing Infernal profanities as he tried to free his arms. “Let go of me, Cal-” he demanded. The slight tremor in his voice betrayed his resolve, and he curled in on himself as Lia’s claws poked up his belly. “I mean it! Cease this childish nonsense at once!”

“And leave you to brood?” Cal snickered and held his arms over his head in a secure grip. He gave Lia a mischievous smile. “Get him good, Lia.”

“With pleasure.” Lia’s grin widened as she tickled up his stomach, squeezed his sides, and ended with dragging her claws along his ribs. Rolan flinched and bit down hard. He clenched his jaw and shook his head, determined not to give in. He tried to twist away, but Cal’s grip held him firmly in place. 

“Enough!” Rolan barked, his voice strained as he struggled to keep a straight face. “This is ridiculous.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Lia teased, fingers skittering across his ribs in light, maddening pokes. “Seems like it’s working to me.”

Rolan sucked in a breath, trying to ignore the ticklish jolts shooting through him, but the tremble in his voice betrayed him. “I—I mean it, Lia, enough of this—” His words faltered as she hit a particularly sensitive spot, and his mouth pressed into a thin line, fighting back a smile.

“Oh, you’re so close,” Cal laughed, tightening his hold on Rolan’s arms. “Come on, don’t tell us this doesn’t tickle.”

“It doesn’t!” Rolan’s shoulders shook as he fought against the maddening urge to laugh. “I-I’m n-not ticklish-”

Lia started swirling the tips of her claws in random patterns along his ribs. Rolan gasped and flinched again. He doubled over as much as he could in a last ditch effort to pull away. 

But Lia kept scribbling.

She occasionally added fuel to the fire by squeezing his hip or the side of his stomach. Rolan’s gasps and growls turned into short, reluctant chuckles. Lia cocked her head to the side, kneading her fingertips into his lowermost ribs. 

“It doesn’t tickle? Not even a little?” Lia cooed, moving her fingers higher toward his underarms, watching as his resolve started to crack. “That’s not how we remember it. You’ve always been more ticklish than me and Cal combined.”

Rolan didn’t answer. He tried to reel in the escaping chuckles, but it was becoming more and more difficult as she inched closer to his underarms. “N-Noho-” He tittered and squirmed more fervently to pull his arms free. “I am not﹘not﹘”

But as her fingers slipped under his arms, Rolan felt a bolt of ticklish energy he couldn’t contain. He sucked in a breath, pressing his lips together harder, but a small, breathy laugh escaped despite himself.

“There it is!” Cal grinned, watching Rolan struggle as his body betrayed him further with each poke and prod.

Rolan twisted, fighting for composure, but the laughter kept bubbling up. “S-stop—this—” he choked out, though his laughter was gaining momentum, his body shaking with barely contained mirth.

“Stop what? This?” Lia spidered into his hollows, earning a loud, growling laugh. “I thought you said you weren’t ticklish. What’s so funny?”

“Dahahamn youhuhu!” Rolan cursed and threw his head back as he laughed harder. Lia kept up the gentle, spidering assault along his underarms. When she wasn’t drilling into the hollows, she used her claws to trace gentle circles along the sensitive nerves. Rolan tugged against Cal’s grip with as much strength as he could muster, but he wasn’t going anywhere, and that ticklish panic settled deeper into his bones. “Lehehet gohoho of me, youhuhu brahahats!”

“Ooo, hear that, Lia?” Cal chuckled and, despite his struggling, he kept his brother’s arms locked in place. “We’re brats. Not sure if that’s a step up or down from troglodytes.”

“Oh, definitely a step up,” Lia answered, working all ten of her claws back into his underarms. Rolan lurched forward and wheezed, laughing into her shoulder. She giggled. “He’s called us worse.”

“Youhuhu’ll pahahy for thihihis!” Rolan threatened in between bursts of frantic laughter. “Nahaha! C-Cehehease this madness at onohonce!” 

“Madness? This is fun!” Lia argued. She moved her claws even faster along his armpits. Rolan’s laughter took on more of a desperate note as he bucked in Cal’s hold. 

“NOHOHO!” Rolan protested, drumming his legs against the floor. “It is mahahahadness! N-Nohoht thehehere-”

“Here?” Lia emphasized her point by kneading her thumbs into the hollows, moving them in small circles. Rolan yelped and twisted like a fish out of water. He barely noticed how Cal shifted his hold on him so that he could keep him pinned, but also join in on the tickling fun. 

“Or here?” Cal chimed in, swiping his claws along the length of his ribs. Rolan’s laughter jumped to a new pitch as he made a poor attempt to slump over. 

“FIHIHIHIENDS!” He howled and shook his head side to side, shaking with laughter. Cal and Lia giggled. They weren’t giggling at their brother, but rather with him. Rolan was usually so stuffy and proper. They couldn’t remember the last time they heard him genuinely laughing. His laughter was composed of gruff chuckles and sharper, breathier cackles if either of them got an especially sensitive spot. They kept up the tickling attack for what felt like an eternity, until Rolan’s kicking feet caught Cal’s attention. 

“Do you remember that one spot that had him squealing like a goblin, Lia?” Cal asked while kneading the spaces between his brother’s ribs. Despite being in hysterics, Rolan’s eyes snapped open. He saw the metaphorical light bulb go off in her head, and a devious grin was quick to follow. 

“Well, now that you mention it…”Lia moved so that she was now sitting in front of Rolan’s feet. “Maybe it does ring a bell.”

“Nohoho! D-Don’t you dare!” Rolan protested, drawing his legs in towards himself. Lia grabbed onto his legs in a determined grip and wrestled off his shoes. “Lia, plehehease!”

“Please? Never thought I’d get one of those out of you,” Lia grinned and fluttered her fingertips over his sole. “Now come on, I just wanna see if this spot still works!”

The effect was instantaneous—Rolan’s gruff laughter turned into loud, boisterous cackles. “NAHAHAHA! NOHOHOT THE FEHEHEET!” His laughter hit a fever pitch, voice cracking as he fell into high-pitched, uncontrollable squeals. His toes curled in a vain attempt to protect himself, but Lia’s nimble fingers danced over every inch, finding every ticklish nerve.

Cal laughed, switching from his ribs to repeatedly squeeze his sides. “There it is! The goblin squeal!” he teased, laughing along with his brother’s cackles.

Lia's fingers danced over his soles, scratching lightly at his heels, then up to the balls of his feet, driving him wild. “Kitchy-kitchy-koo, Rolan!” she teased, finding all the spots that made him shriek the loudest. Rolan jolted forward, nearly freeing himself from Cal’s grasp. 

“I yiehehehield! M-Mercy! Mercy!” he cried out, his voice hoarse and eyes squeezed shut as tears of laughter streamed down his cheeks. Finally, his devious siblings stopped their attack, leaving him in a breathless, giggly heap. 

Lia patted his shoulder affectionately. “See? You need to laugh more often. It suits you.”

Rolan groaned, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “You two… are absolute menaces,” he muttered, but there was no real bite to his words.

Cal released him, leaning back with a satisfied grin. “Guess we’ll just have to annoy you more often then. Can’t have you turning into a grumpy tower hermit.”

“I am not grumpy.” Rolan huffed with a smile still lingering on his lips. 

Both of his siblings giggled. “Yeah, not anymore.”

A/N: I had another crappy week and sat down to write something really quick. I couldn't decide between the current title or "Hug Me, Brotha!", which would've been inspired by my favorite show growing up: Drake and Josh. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed the story. I have something in the works for Zevlor too; but like most of my stuff, I don't know when it'll be posted 😅

...Okay bye 🏃🏿‍♀️