#when he’s a scrounger

[tvsnationalgeosapphic]

The Great Escape is one of the most homosexual movies I’ve ever seen. I love it.

[ichorandpride]

some morgott headcanons i have

just a list because i love this old man a lot. a mixture of both general and ship hc's

morgott nests. he has a bed but prefers nesting and has gone to great lengths to create a nest that is comfy enough for him. it's made up of furs, hides, bed sheets, blankets, even window drapes. it's not the best thing in the world but it's his and he likes it.

if, say, your tarnished is somehow able to start a relationship with him and ends up sleeping in said nest, he will actively make it bigger. just don't try to help him; despite the good intentions, you will just get in the way. you might get a tail in the face.

he doesnt move around lots in his sleep. he's a large, heavy guy that just kind of becomes a furry brick when passed out. that being said, he sleeps lightly. growing up in such horrid conditions under constant threats has him unfortunately unable to fall into a deep rest. if he does ever get into a solid sleep, it goes on for like 13 hours - his body probably overcompensating and getting what it can while it can.

he's got a rough relationship with food. he may feel stressed if at, say, a banquet and there's tons of food around. he's used to not eating a lot and as such continues to eat as little as possible. it's not because he doesnt think he deserves it. rather, he's just gone his entire life without a stable source of food and is used to it.

that said, he forages lots. my man is a scrounger. i know this mf scrounges around for mushrooms and herbs to bring back to his nest. at any given time, you can find at least a few scraps of herbs around his space. he probably eventually starts a small garden.

if he's eating something and you try to jokingly take a piece, he will growl at you. it's one of the few times he ever vocalizes like that (compared to his brother, who constantly growls and isnt afraid to snarl). his growling is deep, more from his chest than his throat, and it will be one of those rumbles you can feel.

other than growling, he can also purr. it's embarrassing and unbecoming, but if you get him relaxed enough (a feat in and of itself), he will absolutely start purring and doze off. please get him a big enough rocking chair to be able to snooze in.

he either doesnt bathe, or he bathes far too much. no in-between. it's really hard for him to be able to keep to a set schedule and so it's kind of become a thing of extremes for him. it depends on how he feels. either he feels like it doesnt matter bc he's gonna get dirty anyways and so he just doesnt for a while, or he goes through a period where he just cant get the memory of the stench of sewers out of his nose and ends up bathing like three times a day.

normally his hair and fur is wiry and kinda... 'off' looking. that's when he's in a period of bad hygiene. when he does bathe, though, his fur puffs tf out and actually gets quite soft. maybe even lighter in colour now that all his body muck is gone.

despite his occasional bouts of hygiene issues (and his own personal fears of smelling like the sewers), morgott surprisingly smells fine most of the time. maybe a bit of musk or perhaps the scent of iron and soil from his times battling, but otherwise it's not actually overwhelming or bad.

he'll never admit it but if you ever gift him some food and reassure him that it's all his, he probably spends the next several minutes just staring at it instead of eating. there is not a scrap left after he's done with it though.

[mochinomnoms]

You know how oranges are a common metaphor for love and forgiveness in literature? Yeah that's my weird way of flirting! Just peeling/spitting up an orange with ptm jade and listening as his thoughts go wild. Maybe even handfeeding him idk, that's be a cute moment. Very soft.

Just let him lay in my lap as I feed him an orange half. Not even leading to anything. Just a soft moment with my future husband. Mi media naranja, como te amo~

🦩

screams

I'm in soft mode rn cause of aceyuu madoka au… but oranges as a metaphor for love 🥺

I've never actually heard of that, though I've seen like that orange peel theory on tiktok, but fruit as metaphors for love…pomegranates and their seeds symbolizing closeness…opening them being messy and bloody…the traditional mythos with Hades and Persephone…

Apples as a metaphor for love…the forbidden fruit…trusting someone else even if it damns you…apples being given to Aphrodite, the goddess of love, to demonstrate their love to her…

My thoughts are full and wonderful, like Jade's thoughts for Yuu. We tend to focus so much on the sly, sneaky, teasing eel that we forget, he is just a (mer)man. A man who is weak to the intimacy that inherently comes with domestic love. His heart yearns for the one that's grasped his heart, whether they're aware of it or not. Jade Leech is in fact his namesake, a scrounger for the scraps of affection he can get from Yuu. He's suffering, heart full of longing and aches for the person who has all the power to crush it, to kill him, in the palm of their hands.

So what does his mind do? What do the thoughts filling his brain do when Yuu decides to take the leap that he's too much of a coward to take, and starts hand feeding him? An action reserved for lovers in merculture? He is…momentarily freaking out. As Jade takes the first bite, eyes that he didn't realize had closed open, looking at Yuu's blushing face, he has a blanket of calm fall over him. His heart is still pounding, but it feels…sated. The infamous Jade Leech, full of emotions that even he didn't know he was capable of, and his heart are at peace with the object of their desires.

[pastlivesandpurplepuppets]

I liked Carwood Lipton right away, I could see he was a good, smart kid, very conscientious, used his brain. Joe Toye, he was tough as nails, looked out for the others. Chuck Grant, Ken Mercier, Salty Harris, all smart, took care of the other men. They ended up sergeants. They were all good. I liked Johnny Martin, too. He was a loner, he didn’t get along with others, he was a force to be reckoned with, and he was a goldbrick (but not when it came to combat—he became sergeant of 1st Platoon). I thought he was as smart as me. He could get out of doing anything. He’d beg, borrow, and steal to get what he wanted. They called him the Scrounger. You needed a truck, he got you a truck. You need a tank, he’ll get you a tank. You need eggs, he’ll bring in the chickens. We became good friends right away. He got married that summer to a girl named Pat and I was his best man.

~ Bill Guarnere

[oneatlatime]

The Tales of Ba Sing Se PART 2

The Tale of Zuko

Maybe I should make a Zuko's Stupid Faces post.

Zuko and Iroh's whole dynamic in one frame.

This girl is cute. Total girl next door type. She does have fairly horrible taste in men, but she's also very cute.

I just want to take a minute to point out a VERY important distinction. Zuko is not going out on a date. Zuko is not taking a girl out on a date. A girl is taking Zuko out on a date. She's got that arm in a death grip. Not only is that a clever reversal of the usual hetero dynamic, but I'm convinced it's the only way Zuko would ever get any action, so it's also in character.

I know Zuko's social skills are non-existent, but apart from the blow up at the waiter he is actually trying. He's failing, but I have to give him points for trying.

The way this girl's voice actress says "You juggled" made my ears very happy. And the beleaguered "yes. I juggled." is equally good.

Zuko! Tell her you did sword stuff! That's something you can actually do!

It gives me hope that someone so steeped in the most toxic parts of the Fire Nation, for so long, can STILL be so bad at lying, but it would certainly be a handy skill right about now.

I take it back. This girl does have good taste in men. Zuko's such a softie when it counts. He still sucks at being normal, but he just risked his identity because the girl he didn't even plan to go out with was a little bit sad.

This girl is the best.

Ha! He kissed her back! He Did! I saw that!

I take back what I took back. Zuko's evil again. He made my new favourite girl droop.

I love that Iroh's waiting up for him while making it look like he isn't waiting up for him. How many times on their ship, when Zuko was out Blue Spiriting, do you think Iroh found a reason to be randomly sat on the deck at 3 am?

Character development baby! Can you really call yourself loyal to the fire nation if you admit to having a good time on a date with an Earth Kingdom girl?

The Tale of Momo

Pretty.

That was a FILTHY bait and switch. For one shining moment, I had Appa back.

They should take that to June.

Not Appa.

Also not Appa.

I did not have 'Momo gets gaslit' on my Avatar Bingo card. Nor did I have 'interspecies animal friendship angst.'

Are these cat things the raccoons of the Avatar universe? Or the squirrels? Urban scroungers?

I love the idea that this guy just grabs the closest squirrel, sticks a hat on it, and expects it to dance. He got lucky with Momo.

I thought they were taking the animals to the pound, but this is very much a butcher. Which means that in Ba Sing Se, they eat varmint. Stay away from the hot dog carts.

That's very effective Simglish.

Thank god for thumbs.

Aw they're friends! This has Aristocats vibes, when O'Malley and the girl cat are getting together near the end.

And one final Fuck You, because god forbid Momo's tale ends on a happy note.

I'm guessing that's an Appa print, but couldn't it also be a platypus bear?

Something about the cats standing vigil over Momo's grief gets to me.

Final thoughts

I'll go through each of these stories individually, but first some general comments.

Last episode was kind of intense, and definitely ended on a downer (not that this one didn't), so it was a good call to at least start this episode off on something a bit gentler.

I was really impressed with the soundtrack throughout. Apart from the Tale of Momo where it's the animal noises that are front and centre, the music is doing a lot of work in every story, the strings especially. The strings are doing emotional work, plot stuff, and even humour. Seriously, next time you rewatch this episode, pay attention to the strings. These shorts are actually very light on dialogue (apart from Sokka's), but they don't feel that way because the music is doing the talking.

I'm assuming that this all took place over three days at least, since Iroh, Zuko, and Momo's tales seem to end on different evenings. So I don't think calling this episode 'day in the life' is accurate. My bad. It also occurs to me that this kind of episode format would be a great way of showing time has passed. If they had had an episode like this in the Northern Water Tribe - after Katara beat the crap out of Poophead but before the Fire Nation attacked - I would have liked the pacing of the whole finale arc better.

On to the stories!

The Tale of Toph and Katara

It might be because I didn't understand what this episode was doing yet, but this one didn't do much for me. It was good to see Toph have a moment of self-doubt, but I never would have assumed, based on her previous behaviour, that her appearance was her proverbial weak spot. Katara did a really good job at building her back up, and she was delightfully (and appropriately) understated for once. When she's reassuring Aang of something (especially in Season 1) Katara tends to got from 0 to 60 very quickly, so it was nice to see her be reassuring in a quiet, non-steamrolling way. Is this Katara character development? Apart from the fact that Toph quite literally got her eyeballs sanded, nothing much in this episode stuck out to me. Except those bitchy voices. Those were like knives in my brain.

The Tale of Iroh

So many questions! Is Lu Ten buried in Ba Sing Se? How is that grave not defaced yet? How did Iroh get a copy of his son's picture? They lost everything at the North Pole, right? Did he ask the people who got him their passports for a picture of his son too? Does Zuko know/remember that it's his cousin's birthday? If so, why isn't he there offering Iroh the world's most awkward hug? Given the fact that Iroh spent the whole day helping people, including a very misguided youth, and given that Iroh says something along the lines of "if only I could have helped you [his son]" does this imply that Lu Ten was going through a crisis at the time of his death? Was he misguided like the wannabe mugger? Is Zuko not the first Fire Nation Prince that Iroh has had to guide through an identity/existential crisis? Is Zuko going to be the first time Iroh succeeds at guiding a Fire Nation prince through an identity/existential crisis? Does Iroh live in perpetual fear of failing Zuko the way he seems to believe he failed his son? Am I reading too much into this?

To be quite honest, this story would have hit me harder if I had remembered going into it that Iroh had a son. Lu Ten takes being a textual ghost to a whole new level. Also the 'In honor of Mako' text confused me. And worried me a little.

The Tale of Aang

I liked this one! Aang can't help Appa at the moment, but he can help all the Appa stand ins who aren't fortunate enough to have an Aang to help them. Aang is a nice little boy! Of course he'd free a bunch of animals without thinking about the consequences and the epic pile of platypus bear dung he's just landed the zookeeper in with the Dai Li. I liked the animal designs. I liked the earthbending. I liked the Siamese cat representation. I loved cabbage man. I think that, if Appa could have known, he would have approved. I also think that I'm once again reading too much into this. it was nominally a fun fluff piece elaborating on a established emotional conflict (Appa missing), which gave it just enough weight to be slightly more than a fluff piece.

The Tale of Sokka

I am entirely serious when I say that 'poetry bouncer' is my favourite joke so far in the WHOLE show. I love absurdity played entirely earnestly. It's fridge funny too. The longer I contemplate the implications, the funnier it gets. What past event required a poetry bouncer be introduced? He's not there to protect the students or the teacher; he's here to reinforce the structure of the Haiku by force. Was he hired by the concept of Haiku? Is Haiku taken so seriously in Ba Sing Se that he's needed to break up cat fights between students? There is a rich well of haiku-related hijinks just hinted at by his presence, and I want to know more.

Sokka is so often his own worst enemy that it makes sense that he's taken out by his own hubris. That fortune teller lady was absolutely a crook, but she did one hell of an accurate cold read on Sokka.

The Tale of Zuko

Credits tell me that the girl's name is Jin. I would like to congratulate the creators of Avatar for managing to illustrate romantic interest so palpably without resorting to heart eyes and steam whistle noises. Nothing wrong with those; I'm just impressed by how much of Jin's interest in Zuko you can feel. Also, she'd better be more than a single episode character, because I need more of this sweetheart. She's a real contender for displacing Toph as my favourite girl in the cast.

To be fair to Zuko, he did make Jin droop (UNFORGIVABLE), but it was also the right call. He can't date her honestly. It IS complicated. And I don't think any Earth Kingdom girl (worth dating) would knowingly go out with Fire Nation royalty. Jin wanted Lee the Tea Boy. Try as he might, Zuko can't stop being Zuko. I would argue that he shouldn't stop being Zuko. His flashback mom told him not to forget who he was, so I'd also argue that the narrative doesn't want Zuko to stop being Zuko either. I guess it's a case of right girl, wrong time. It looks like she's cool with him being a firebender, but firebending and being the Fire Lord's son are not the same magnitude of hurdle to dating. Maybe when the war's over they can hook up again.

The Tale of Momo

I think this qualifies as cruelty to the audience. I got the impression that this story was crafted borderline maliciously, to make the viewers suffer angst dump after angst dump.

I liked seeing things from Momo's perspective. I loved the animal noises, which really got across a shocking amount of emotion. Those, combined with body language, were as effective as any spoken script. These cartoon people really know how to use their medium.

It absolutely kills me that Momo is missing Appa, and since he doesn't understand human speech, he can't even be comforted by knowing that his humans are actively looking for him. If you've ever seen one of your pets missing another of your pets in real life, you know there's nothing worse than the helplessness that comes with not being able to explain or magically summon their friend back from the kennel, or the vet, or the dead. All you can do is give them hugs. I'm glad that Momo got a street cat support group at the end of the episode, but the animal grief at the beginning was hard to get through. It's sweet to have confirmation that Momo sees Appa as family, but surely they could have showed that to us in a way that doesn't make me need to hug the stuffing out of my own pets?

Final Final Thoughts for real this time

This episode wrings you out a little. Fully a third of the stories are about Appa, despite him not being there. At least half are about missing someone who isn't there. At least half are bittersweet.

I liked this episode format. I hope they use it again next season. Only Toph and Katara's tale felt too short to me. The rest did such a good job at drawing me in, that when I went back to check timestamps I was surprised by how short these stories are.

I'm going to go eat too much chocolate.

[scotianostra]

Scottish novelist and poet Naomi Mitchison was born in Edinburgh on November 1st in 1897.

Best known as a novelist and social commentator, but Naomi Mitchison also wrote and published poetry, much of which is rooted in her Scottish background.

Born to Louisa Kathleen Trotter and John Scott Haldane, a distinguished scientist based in Oxford, where Naomi Haldane grew up. The Scottish connection remained important throughout her childhood, and she spent many summers at Cloan in Perthshire, the Haldanes’ family home. Although her formal education was limited, she was steeped in an environment of scientific and creative enquiry which influenced her entire life.

Naomi married Dick Mitchison while he was on a short break from the Battlefields of Flanders in 1916, he was later injured in the war and it had a profound effect on the rest of his life and hers.

Both of them passionately wanted the post-war world to be a different and better place and were determined to do something about it, with explosive energy, Mitchison managed to write prolifically and variously; to work in the pioneer days at the North Kensington family planning clinic and for many other good causes. Her husband went into politics and she supported him and his socialist values wholeheartedly. He eventually went to the Lords and Naomi hated being called Lady Mitchison. The Mitchison house at Hammersmith was famous for its parties in happy or anxious times. The guest lists covered a wide spectrum from all walks of life, politicians, writers, lords, unknown proteges, refugees and strange lost foreigners from all over the world.

This generous style of hospitality continued at their Scottish home at Carradale in Argyll. The large house gathered in all kinds of waifs and strays among the famous and unreproached scroungers; and then the Mitchison grandchildren and great-grandchildren joined the mix. Naomi's wartime diary, Among You Taking Notes... , is a vivid description of that period, and of her own pivotal role in it.

She would go on to become a local councillor and member of the Highland Panel, which began the process of Highland regeneration, but in both roles she was frustrated by bureaucracy and apathy, you can imagine The Highlands in the 60's!

Mitchison was able to write anywhere, which helped because - as a compulsive traveller - she could get on with her writing on planes or in trains. She went to the US in the 1930s, because she was worried about tenant farmers rights; to Vienna in 1934 when the Nazi-era storm clouds gathered, and she smuggled letters from endangered people to Switzerland in her knickers. In 1952, she went to Moscow as a member of the Authors' World Peace Appeal. She went regularly to Africa, especially to Botswana, where she was made a sort of tribal mother to the Bakgatla people and helped them practically. Wherever she was in the world, she seemed to have an instinctive understanding of the country and people around her, a remarkable woman.

In later years, she was sometimes anxious and depressed - not for herself, but for the future. She often said that two wars in a lifetime were too many. She was totally opposed to nuclear weaponry and was fearful that science would destroy, rather than enrich, mankind.

In old age, she watched many of her generation die: but with great generosity of spirit she visited and comforted many of them to the end.

Naomi Mitchison spent the last years of her life at Carradale, where she died in January 1999 aged 101.

Kintyre

I wake when the wind changes. Beyond the dark Firth far, Where the waves clap and the tides rustle and the herring are, At the far side of the great Clyde the wind ranges. I wake as it changes.

If snow flew or mist blew East on the hills of Renfrew, Here, Arran sheltered, we might never know, Get no breath of sleet or hard snow, Until across the mountain ranges The wind backs and changes.

Clear starlight as sleep takes me, But a cloud creeps from the side. My dream no more ranges Through a universe at rest, But quick through the window wide, From Atlantic on the west Or from east beyond Clyde, Leaps anxious into my breast. I wake when the wind changes.

[uncharismatic-fauna]

Rock on with Rock Pigeons

Rock pigeons, also known as rock doves or common pigeons (Columba livia) are one of the most common species of bird in the world, with over 400 million pigeons spread over feral and wild populations. They can be found on every continent, and feral doves are particularly abundant in urban areas. Before their global distribution, the species was native only to southern Europe, northern Africa, and southern Asia. However, due to their use as messengers, food, and pets, the species has been introduced to nearly every area humans inhabit.

Most urban populations are feral pigeons (C. livia domestica),  descendants of  domesticated individuals that either escaped or were freed when their use to humans fell out of fashion. These individuals tend to have more color and pattern variation in their plumage, but are otherwise identical to their wild relatives. In fact, as they are functionally a sub species of rock pigeon, feral and wild populations interbreed where they overlap, though wild pigeons more commonly nest along cliff faces closer to agriculture or open fields. In urban areas, pigeon nests are found nearly anywhere with a flat surface large enough for a nest; particularly window ledges, archways, and overpasses.

Generally speaking, the rock dove has dark plumage-- usually grey or black-- with white or iridescent markings along the neck and wings. The distinctive ‘moustache’ on their beaks is actually a piece of cartilage known as an operculum, which can help to reduce moisture loss. Healthy adults have a wingspan of 62 to 72 cm (24 to 28 in), and can weigh up to 380 g (13.4 oz). Females are nearly identical to males, especially among populations with mixed colors, but can be identified by their duller colors and smaller iridescent patches.

 C. livia breeds year round, so long as food is available, but peak nesting times are in the spring and summer. Courtship rituals begin with a male puffing out his feathers and strutting about on the ground. He then approaches the female while cooing, bowing, and spinning. If the female shows interest, he then feeds her regurgitated food before mounting. The female lays two eggs in a prepared nest  and both mates take turns incubating for 17-19 days. Hatchlings, also called squabs, are fed on a rich substance known as crop milk which is produced from the parents’ throat. Individuals take up to 4 months to become fully mature, though young typically leave the nest at only 30 days old.

Rock doves are largely monogamous and mate for life, though separations are not uncommon. Pairs regularly preen each other, and once mated build a semi-permanent nest together. They are also highly social and typically live in flocks of 50 to 500 individuals, with members often moving between nearby groups. Social organization is kept by pecking order-- disputes over territory, food, or mating rights are solved by two individuals pecking each other until the loser retreats. Flocks are also divided by foraging ability; one group, the producers, are responsible for locating food while scroungers feed on what the producers find.

One of the reasons for the common pigeon’s broad distribution is their diet; C. livia are omnivores. In the wild their main staple are seeds and fruits, but wild and feral populations can subsist on a wide variety of plant matter, as well as insects and human food waste. Interestingly, rock pigeons are one of the few birds that can drink continuously from a water source, as opposed to taking only small sips. Groups forage during the day when those on the outer edge of the flock can keep an eye out for predators like birds of prey. Other animals like opossums or raccoons are also known to steal eggs and squabs from  undefended nests.

Conservation status: The feral C. livia domestica has a large and growing population, and is considered Least Concern by the IUCN. However, many urban populations are considered healthy due to poor diet and abundance of diseases and parasites. The wild populations of rock pigeon are functionally considered Least Concern, but their populations are decreasing due to habitat loss and genetic intermingling, and they truly wild rock doves are extinct in many places in Europe.

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Photos

David Lin

Donald Trounson

Jim Rathert

[curiouslyodd]

Are we meant to look at this picture and feel anything other than insurmountable rage? Immigrants and disabled people are treated as greedy scroungers, and then the shitglobs in charge spaff £billions so they can better kill people in pointless wars, and announce this by posing with things designed only to destroy.

They forced through the Rwanda deportation bill yesterday. A policy that achieves nothing but unspeakable cruelty, targeting people who have already gone through countless horrors to get here. A policy that will cost £1.8 million for each person bundled onto a flight. The government says that there's no money for infrastructure or disabled people or renewable energy, but they're willing to pay an ungodly sum just to torture some immigrants? I mean, I'm not surprised, just appalled.

There's been an article floating about about some right wing teacher's (probably fake) account of having his entire class say 'yes' when he asked them if they hate Britain.

He of course was outraged. But it seems to me to be the only sane answer. What worth is there in a country so dedicated to pointless cruelty?

Happy Saint George's Day.

[no-not-without-you-blog]

Recipe for Love- Chapter 1

Warnings: Language?, Discussions of potential pregnancy, Discussion of mental health, Pepper being a boss ass bitch. Tony being Tony.

Authors Note: I promise we will get to Steve, but we needed some setup! I hope you enjoy!

Recipe for Love Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

“Tony, we have talked about this.” Pepper chastised Tony while he walked around, avoiding her gaze. “You have put it off for long enough and now we are almost out of time.”

“Pepper. Pep. My sweet dove.” She rolled her eyes at his nicknames. “I just don’t see why we need to have the  conversation in the first place? They are adults, they don’t need a babysitter.” Tony was in his lab at the compound, cataloging various tools and inventions in progress, having a hard time deciding what to bring with him to his and Pepper’s new home. He knew that he had limited space in his garage/workshop and would have to be selective about what he brought with him. Pepper had been adamant about not having an ungodly sized workshop, hoping that it would keep him from constantly working. It had been one of the many conditions she had placed on him if he wanted to start a family. Less work. She loved that he loved his work, but for so long, her and their relationship had come second at best. Before she would agree to bring a child into the mix, she needed to see that he was serious about slowing down and putting them and her first. Pepper knew that Tony wanted a child terribly and knew that she would need to make him take some drastic steps away from Avenging in order to have that. She knew that if she didn’t put her foot down, there would be a day when he wouldn’t return from a mission and she would be left alone with their child. While he would never fully give up being Iron Man, she was going to do what she could to get him to actually settle down. One of those steps was for Tony and her to move out of the compound. Being in the heart of the action would keep him from ever slowing down.

She sighed, “Tony, you can’t see what I see. It’s hard to see the need for it unless you’re on the outside looking in. Just trust me. It won’t be like a babysitter. But they do need someone here. This place feels so empty all the time, even when completely full of people. They are either on missions, training, or in their rooms.” 

Tony let out a short laugh. ‘This is their job, Pep. After their job is over, they go to their homes. Just like normal people.” 

She rolled her eyes at him. He had no idea what normal people were like. He had never been a normal person. “Yes, Tony, but unlike normal people, they aren’t socializing with others. They aren’t making connections with others. They barely talk to other people outside of work related conversations. That’s not normal. Plus, I know that they are all food scroungers. None of them eat full meals around here. They just snack all the time. They need real food and conversation.”

Tony looked her up and down, his eyes both questioning and full of lust. “Are you sure you’re not pregnant yet? Because this is some choice mothering you’ve got going on. And, by God, is it a turn on.” 

Pepper gave Tony a dead eyed look. “Tony.”

He laughed and held his hands up in surrender. “Okay, Okay, I understand. We will start looking for someone.”

She took a deep breath and smiled at him. “Thank you.”

“Now about that whole baby thing. I think we should just go ahead and get started on trying right now.” 

“Tony. No.”

“Oh come one! It’s the best part of the whole ordeal.” He whined to her, giving her his best pouty face. She rolled her eyes at him but smiled at his antics.

“How about this? You finish packing the lab, and I will be waiting upstairs for you…in the bath.” Tony’s eyes got wide as a smirk crossed his face. 

“Square deal.”

As she walked towards the exit of the lab, she looked over her shoulder at him and saw him staring at her behind as she walked away. “Don’t take too long, Tony. My bubbles won’t last for long.” Winking at him for added effect. 

“Yes, ma’am.”

Pepper shook her head and laughed at his sudden and completely unexpected renewed speed in packing. She messaged her assistant to put out a job opening for the position, knowing that Tony would never remember to do it. She would just have to do it for him.

Jo sat in the sleek waiting room of Stark Tower. She had been sitting there for what felt like hours, slowly watching applicants enter the room and exit, looking dejected or frustrated. It didn’t bode well for her interview. Finally, a woman opened the door and called her name. She stood and nervously adjusted her blouse and trousers, frantically trying to smooth out any wrinkles. She followed the woman into the room and was greeted by none other that Tony Stark himself. She wasn’t surprised that he would be a part of the interview process, but knowing he would be here and actually being in the room with Iron Man were two very different things. She allowed herself the briefest of moments to fangirl, however, she was a professional and she quickly pulled herself together and presented herself with as much calmness and charm as she could. The woman standing beside him extended her hand out to Jo and introduced herself.

“Hi, I’m Pepper and this, of course, is Tony. It’s Ms. MacDonald, correct?” Jo shook hands with the woman, who motioned for her to sit down.

“Yes, but I much prefer to go by my first name, well part of it anyways. Joanna is a family name. But please, call me Jo.”

Pepper smiled at her and looked over the file in front of her. “Jo. I’ve looked over your resumé and I have to say that I’m impressed.”

Tony of course interrupted at this point, pulling up the file in a hologram. “Graduated with a PhD in Psychology from the University of Notre Dame. So really it’s Dr. Jo. Joined a private practice for a few years and then switched to a non-profit. It seems like you have done great work in both. So I’ve gotta say, I’m a bit confused as to your motivation for applying for this position. I mean, it’s a glorified nanny position. Cooking and organizing activities for the group. And you, my dear, are wildly overqualified.” He looked over her with a critical eye.

Jo nodded.  “I understand that, really, I do. I’m looking for a change of pace and this seems like a good fit.” Tony’s eyes squinted ever so slightly as he stared at her, trying to understand her reasoning.

Pepper looked at Tony and saw the wariness and skepticism in his eyes. After the fall of Shield, Tony had had a hard time trusting new people. Especially someone like Jo who seemed far too qualified for the position and hadn’t presented to him a compelling reason for wanting the position. However, Pepper could tell that Jo’s answer wasn’t the whole truth but when she looked over at the woman, she could see a hesitancy to answer fully.

Following a feeling in her gut, Pepper turned to Tony. “Tony, why don’t you give me and Ms. MacDonald a few minutes alone.”

He turned quickly and gave Pepper an incredulous look. “What?” But the look that Pepper gave him quickly shut him up. “Ugh, ok fine.” He got up and grumbled lowly about being kicked out of his own office in his own building. Pepper rolled her eyes and shook her head with a smile on her face.

When he had left the room, Pepper turned to Jo and smiled sweetly at her. “Jo, I’m not meaning to pry, but I felt as if you would feel more comfortable speaking with me about this subject than with Tony.”

Jo took a deep breath and smiled. “You’re not wrong. It’s not an unwillingness to speak with Mr. Stark by any means. I just feel as if he wouldn’t understand my motivations and he, more than most, would reject the reasons.”

“So then you do have reasons for wanting the job?” Pepper prodded gently. 

“Yes, many. But one of the largest is that I was working at my private practice when the Battle of New York took place. I saw so many people who were suffering with the after effects of that trauma. So many were affected by the events of that day and so many needed counseling and were unable to afford it. After a while, I left my practice and started working for the Non-Profit I now work at. I was able to help out so many who needed counseling but wouldn’t have had the resources to access it. My NPO also worked with domestic, sexual, and child abuse survivors. So I’ve been able to work with people who have had such varied needs. It’s been such a growing experience and I have loved working there.”

Jo took a breath and continued on. “Up until this point, I have only worked with people who were largely helpless in their situations, whether that trauma was caused by parents, partners, or aliens. But I started to think about those who did fight back. Just because they fought back, doesn’t mean that they weren’t also affected by it. Just because you are “super” doesn’t mean that you are immune to the effects of trauma. While I don’t know the intimate details of all of their stories, I can imagine that most of the Avengers have suffered immense trauma in their lives. Either before they received their powers, while gaining their abilities, or as a result of them. I also have the inferred opinion that being an Avenger also places a lot of pressure on them to be “okay”. Where they would feel the need to take care of others and often forget or refuse to take care of themselves as a result. Again, I don’t know any of this first hand, but I imagine you do, and I ask you, am I wrong?”

Pepper was taken aback by Jo’s spot on observations of the team. If she was honest with herself, she had been concerned about the same issues herself.

“You’re not wrong. Being who they are takes an immense toll on them and I see them struggle silently instead of reaching out to anyone.” She thought for a moment and then continued. “This is why you were hesitant to speak to Tony about this.”

Jo nodded and smiled. “Tony, more than most, seems like someone who doesn’t like to admit that he needs help. He wouldn’t understand what you and I see. Everyone needs someone they can lean on and I imagine that the team as a whole and also as individuals may not have that currently. They need someone who isn’t a part of that world to just be there for them.”

Pepper sat and listened to Jo’s reasoning, realizing that she was that person for Tony. She had been unable to fully form what she was looking for in someone to fill this roll and Jo had just described it perfectly. Not someone who just does the basic cooking and group outing coordinator. But someone who can understand how to deal with the issues that the team has. She smiled widely. “I couldn’t agree with you more.”

She called Tony back in and stated very matter of factly that she was going to hire Jo for the new position, making Jo smile brightly and Tony to look indignant. “Whoa, wait a second! This is my position to fill. I didn’t even get to be here for the interview.”

Pepper gave Tony a look that could stop a team of ox in their tracks and he instantly straightened up out of his mini temper tantrum. “Yes, Boss.”

“Good boy.” She whispered while patting him lightly on the cheek, a smirk on her face. She then turned to Jo. “I’m so excited you are joining the team. HR will get your paperwork straightened out and give you instructions for your move to the compound.”

“Thank you Pepper, and you too, Tony. I promise you won’t regret it.”

Tony still seemed miffed at his lack of decision making power in the moment, but when Pepper started to give him a look again, he quickly turned to Jo and shook her hand. “Well, I guess there’s nothing more to say than welcome to the Avengers.”

[notafanbut]

I read lots of frustration again with this episode 9 and I get it, but I think this show is gently leading us through not just them as friends to couple, but them growing as individuals. Taichi has barrelled his way through life, hiding a lot of who he is and how he feels under being loud and sunny, but Kouhei and having Kouhei in his life is forcing him to face himself. We are actually seeing how insecure he is and how much Maya's criticism gets to him and he takes them on board. She constantly tells him he is useless, a user, thoughtless and no good to Kouhei and he spends the rest of the episode seeing things that reinforce that message for him. And how true that is, when we have something on our mind we notice everything that reinforces that message. I am loving seeing that our sunshine boy is far more complex and far more insecure. I keep saying Kouhei needs to spot that and reassure him.

Maya - I don't hate her, and, yes she is trying to protect Kouhei but, for me, it's how she dies it. She devalues Taichi, she attacks him constantly and whilst some of it is justified (the scruffy notes) some of it isn't. The bento IS his, Kouhei willingly gives it, but she makes him out to be a scrounger. She drops poison in both their ears and whilst her experiences may justify this and have shaped her she doesn't look at this particular circumstance and these particular people - she is generalising. And she KNOWS she is hurting Taichi, she does it with intent. She isn't bothering to watch and learn.

Taichi sad and unsure breaks my heart......

Kouhei needs to call her out.....

[calder]

"I'd use a bullet on myself, but with all these critters an' mobsters about it feels a waste, don't it?" -Clutch, about why he hasn't killed himself

Clutch Connors is a human male that can be found in the area south of Connors Farm. When approached he will bark a series of quips in a random order, sometimes based on player statistics.

"Razorgrain, rays-or-grain. Heh, yeah. I'll take the grain any day of the week.

Whatever happened to bullfrogs?

You jack off with that arm Mister Meaty? (If the Sacrificial Lamb has a Strength score of 7 or higher.)

'S okay pardner, I'm not much for books either. (If the Sacrificial Lamb's Intelligence is 3 or lower.)

Met a guy named Fallout once, ugly motherfucker.

What the fuck is a cow anyways?

I'm a centrist, 'cept when 'm not.

Don't ask me about roads.

War... What was it about war...?

Please, kill me. Just fucking kill me. Do it before the shmuck with the buttons makes you walk away. Please. (Has a rare chance of occurring if the Sacrificial Lamb has the Wild Wasteland trait.)

Clutch is involved in the quest Saint James Infirmary Blues and is one of the escaped patients the Sacrificial Lamb is tasked with rescuing, while the quest is active, you can speak to him and at first he will be apprehensive about returning, the player can either use a Speech check of 40 to convince him to return, or state that they'll take him there by force, after which he will become immediately hostile. If the Sacrificial Lamb has a Medicine skill of 70 or has Frankie in their party, they can determine that Clutch is not a danger to himself or anyone around him, but unless they can also get Weezel to confess to struggling with gender dysphoria and convince Rhonda Simmons to stop taking Day Tripper to hide her autism, the quest will not be marked as complete until they either kill him or convince him to go back to Dr. Rollins.

After the conclusion of St. James Infirmary Blues where he stays at the farm, Clutch will be hostile to any entities hostile to the Sacrificial Lamb in the area, and the player can initiate dialogue with him where he opens up about his struggles with suicidal thoughts and schizophrenia. After exhausting all dialogue options, every time the Sacrificial Lamb talks to Clutch, he has a chance to give a Fancy Lad Snack Cakes, Instamash, Pork n' Beans, Tin Can Grenade or Radweed Joint to them along with a random statement of gratitude.

Thank you for being my friend.

Thanks for not takin' me t' that funny farm.

Hey, I love you... don't make it weird.

Nobody's ever been that nice to me before, here, have this.

Hey, I like men too. (If the Sacrificial Lamb has the Black Widow perk)

Hey, I like men too... you're not my type, though. (If the Sacrificial Lamb has the Confirmed Bachelor perk)

From one motherfucker to another motherfucker, eh?

Hey don't tell Ma about this one. Heheh. (When giving a Radweed Joint)

If the Sacrificial Lamb instead takes him back to Dr. Rollins, he will be wearing a Patient's Gown and standing inside the New Unity Clinic, where if spoken to, he will normally be silent with the subtitles simply show "..." He has a small chance to whisper "Fuck you." and if the Sacrificial Lamb has the Wild Wasteland trait he can also say, "You know you'll lose Karma for this, right?" At the conclusion of the quest Bad Medicine, if Dr. Rollins is killed, he will sometimes stand over his corpse and talk to it with his arms crossed, regardless of if the Sacrificial Lamb kills Dr. Rollins or gets Ranger Sykes to arrest him, Clutch will eventually return to Connors Farm with his inventory reset, but will keep the barks from convincing him to return to the clinic.

Clutch's inventory contains a random amount of regular 10mm ammunition and one random special 10mm round (but he will have more if the Sacrificial Lamb has the Scrounger perk and kills him.) He is equipped with leather armor and a 10mm pistol. While staying at the New Unity Clinic, he is equipped with a patient gown and his inventory is empty.

Exhausting all of Clutch Connor's dialogue after completing Saint James Infirmary Blues without killing him or returning him to the clinic is essential to completing the Basket Case challenge and receiving its related perk.

Trivia

Clutch almost recites the classic phrase "War never changes." found throughout the Fallout series, but forgets the rest of the sentence.

His apprehension regarding the subject of roads may be a reference to players in Fallout: New Vegas being able to ask characters about the NCR-Legion conflict, where many of them will bring up the safety of roads. (citation needed)

His Wild Wasteland dialogue in the New Unity Clinic is a reference to Karma, a statistic that tracked the morality of players' actions in previous Fallout games.

Mister Meaty was the name of a puppet show that briefly aired on Nickelodeon from 2007-2008.

Glitches

Prior to Patch 1.03, Clutch would become immediately hostile to the Sacrificial Lamb upon starting Saint James Infirmary Blues.

Prior to Patch 1.17, Clutch would sometimes be dead of a gunshot wound if the Sacrificial Lamb approached him and then left Connors Farm without starting or completing Saint James Infirmary Blues. Using console commands to warp directly to the farm from the clinic will show that he was meant to be shooting at tin cans on a fence, but because the cans have no collision until picked up, if a caravan is walking by, he can hit one of the caravan guards, traveling merchants or pack brahmin, causing them to turn hostile and kill him before returning to their route.

Clutch will sometimes use the same combat barks as the Stargazer cultists or Infected Commandos

Clutch will sometimes say one of his perk or item dependent lines when giving the Sacrificial Lamb Pork n' Beans, regardless of if they have the prerequisite perk and not receiving a Radweed Joint.

If Dr. Rollins is spawned in front of Clutch after killing him during the quest Bad Medicine using console commands, he will still talk to him as if he was dead.

this seems to be an entertainment-oriented article for a bunch of fallout that doesnt exist. i have no idea of the context or joke but this was a fun read, thank you !

[baelorbreakbeds]

modern au greyjoys are NOT a rich ass mafia family-balon ratbastard he is goes on long rants about scroungers living off the taxpayer not doing any honest hard work and euron brings up they havent paid taxes in years and their restaurant is a front for money laundering or some shit and when aeron finds god he starts posting on christiantok and the teenagers who watch him for lols notice the greyjoy men use no safety precautions whatsoever(think the worst episode of kitchen nightmares but way worse) and give their customers salmonella and shit which spirals into balon going to prison for the 5th time and euron finally being found by the authorities :)) unfortunately he gets off like he always does and somehow sets up victarion to take the fall for his various crimes

[ichorandpride]

Really mundane thought here but morgott strikes me as a forager. Like he’s lived all his life probably having to forage and scrounge in the sewers and imo he probably didn’t grow out of it

Omen king this and king that yeah sure but like. Look at how he still dresses and views himself. I know my man is still a scrounger who goes out and picks mushrooms or smth. He probably goes back to his nest with a massive armful of herbs and other food that he just hoards

I can imagine him struggling with 1. properly eating enough and 2. food insecurity. He strikes me as the type to maybe growl or huff at you if you try to jokingly take a bit of his food. Gotta remember he was starving in a sewer for most of his life. that is His food, not yours

But on the other side of things, that might mean he views you giving him food or a snack as something important. Something he’d deny at first because surely you’re more hungry than him if you made it in the first place. But when you tell him you made it specifically for him? And that you’d like him to eat all of it? There is not a single speck of food waste left

I feel like he’d be big on stew

[confessionofanardentheart]

1.1 Fyodor Pavlovich Karamazov

"Karamazov" comes from two words: the Turkish word "Kara", meaning "black", and the Russian word "mazat", meaning "to smear". The family is a black stain, and there's nothing the blot won't smear to ensure its own comfort in the sludge.

Fyodor Pavlovich is quite a common type of man, in all his strangeness. His peculiarities are what make him a "national" type, similarly to how the strangeness of his third son, Alexey, carries its generation. Haven't we all met at least one Fyodor Pavlovich? I can say I've heard of a few old opportunists who fit in his category. He's the insolent jester and scrounger who irritates and scandalizes us all, but the ideas he carries are not so strange.

On the other side of the coin: Adelaida Ivanovna Miusova, of the romantic generation, irritated by a feeling of captivity. The referenced poem says much about her character:

This romantic heroine whose short life could be a novel lasts no more than four pages out of a thousand, slapstick violence and tragic end included. Their romantic elopement was a lie from the start, with each looking for what they lacked and the other had: her wealth, his freedom from social expectations.

However, Adelaida's freedom and lofty ideas can only go so far when she finds herself in poverty, running from a house in which she must look at her future staring back at her with a mocking smile. Did Fyodor still weep even though he rejoiced at her death, or not? Can these contradictions coexist? Was he more naive than we think, or are we the naive ones for possibly thinking such man would over a wife who only brought him conflict?

All that's certain is that a child born from greed is what remained.

--------

Links:

Lermontov's poem, "Don't trust in self" translated into English // Original

@keepingupwiththekaramazovs

[iamaweretoad]

Been a while since I visited your inbox! :D

We were talking about or RT OCs families, so got a few things for you to consider and share if you want :)

Who were (are?) Mago's parents? What was the relation like between them and their son?

Also, since it is kind of related - how did Mago start his life of crime? What pushed him to do it?

Always a pleasure to see you in my inbox! :D Thank you so much for the ask and for helping me nail down this part of his backstory! 💜

-

His mother (Leta Vanth) was a factory worker in the lower levels of Sibellus’ middle hive. She did not want a child, but was terrified of abandonment and thought that having a child would cement her relationship with her current partner. Unfortunately this backfired and he ditched her shortly before Mago was born. 

I think she tried to want Mago, but she couldn’t. And eventually she grew to resent him, and even blame him – both for his father leaving and just about anything else. She could have abandoned him, but whether it was out of a sense of obligation or just not wanting to be completely alone, she didn’t (a fact she used against him like a blunt instrument). 

A few years later, she had another kid with someone else. This guy stuck around a little longer, but eventually caved under the pressure of trying to support a family in a grimdark industrialist hellscape and left. According to his mother, this was Mago’s fault as well. If he hadn’t been such a handful, they could have stayed ‘a family’. 

While his relationship with his mother was a toxic mess, he was quite close to his little brother, Ani. Mago was responsible for him while his mother was out working her shifts at the manufactorium and they would spend whole days exploring the dangerous warren of the lower hive, hunting rats, foraging for mushrooms or scrap that could be traded for ration coupons. 

While better than nothing, this proved to be an insufficient supplement and they frequently went hungry or without heat/power. Their mother grew increasingly desperate until eventually she was taken advantage of by a chaos cult and joined their ranks. 

When the cult started a small uprising in the lower hive, Leta attempted to sacrifice both her sons. She killed Ani and tried to kill Mago, who was injured but managed to escape. He went to an Arbitrator for help, and the Adeptus Arbites killed his mother and then tried to burn him alive, considering him to be ‘tainted’ by Chaos, but again he managed to escape (he started burning through his 9 lives early). 

After that he fell through the cracks (figuratively and literally) into the Underhive. He survived on his own for a little while before being picked up by a gang of scroungers – he was around 7 or 8 at the time and they needed someone who could squeeze into small spaces when they went on their expeditions and raids. Which is where his life of crime started.

[sebastianswallows]

Dangerous and Delightful — Chapter 6 — Other friends

— PAIRING: Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: Sebastian is a purveyor of forbidden artefacts, a dark arts researcher, and a curse-breaker for hire. Ominis, desperate to save him from himself, hires Reader in secret to persuade him, by any means necessary, to leave his illegal activities behind.

— WARNINGS: none

— WORDCOUNT: 3k

— TAGLIST: @bloofinntoona @sarcasticpluviophile @estrotica

“Absolutely not.”

“But Ominis!”

“Don’t you ‘but Ominis’ me. And I won’t hear any ‘oldest friend’ or ‘thought I could trust you’ or even an ‘after all we’ve been through’. You won’t manipulate me this time.”

“Why not?”

“I stand firmly on this, Sebastian. No dark magic items in my house.”

“It’s a big place, you scrounger. You won’t even notice it.”

“No. My house, my rules.”

“Well what would you like me to do with them? Donate them to St Mungo’s?”

Sebastian was fortunate that Ominis’ fireplace was large enough for him to Floo his trunk into the living room, but just as soon as his presence was known — and more importantly, the reason behind it — Ominis became… less welcoming.

He had no issue hosting Sebastian for a few nights while that thing with the Aurors blew over, but not his ‘cabinet of wonders’, as he took to calling it. Sebastian was exasperated. Nothing in there was that bad, he said, he sold those ones to the highest bidder — which, surprisingly, only made Ominis more upset.

“You can stay, on the condition each nefarious item in there is destroyed.”

“Sure,” grinned Sebastian.

“By me.”

“Now wait a minute —”

“Can’t you see that this is not worth it, Sebastian?” Ominis sighed. “This obsession only gets you into trouble.”

“It’s not an obsession, it’s a career.”

“And why can’t you find another one!?” said Ominis in the shrill tone that told how angry he was, a tone Sebastian knew well.

“We each have our talents, Ominis, and this is mine.”

“Dark magic is not a talent. It’s a liability.”

“Fine, then! I’m a ‘liability’ to you!”

“Oh, here we go again…”

“After everything, everything we’ve been through together —”

“Much of that, might I remind you, was me getting you out of trouble!”

“So why can’t you get me out of trouble once more!?”

“No,” said Ominis, turning his head away.

Sebastian sighed and threw his hands in the air. He felt ready to strangle something.

“You need to make a choice, one you should have made years ago, before Solomon — dark magic, or your friends.”

“Well, first of all, I deny your spurious accusations. There’s hardly any dark magical items in this trunk.” He told the truth, there were only about eight. “And second of all, you’re not my only friend.”

“Is that so?”

“That is so.”

“Fine, then.”

“Fine.”

“Fine!”

Sebastian stood in Ominis’ living room, arms crossed over his chest and heaving, while Ominis waited imperiously by the door.

“You expect me to leave now, or…?”

“Have you changed your mind?” asked Ominis with a cocked brow.

“No.”

“Then yes. You’re only welcome back when you’ve come to your senses.”

With a gritting of teeth and an angry swipe of his wand to transform the trunk into a more manageable briefcase, Sebastian walked toward the door. Ominis stood by, impassive and stoic,

Just as he was about to leave, Sebastian thought to ask, “Wait, can I use your Floo powder?”

And so he found himself back at the Three Broomsticks. It was far enough away from London to give him some space, but in familiar territory that made him feel somewhat secure. At that late hour, there were no children around, and none of his old professors to run into either.

He’d given some thought to hiding out in his old childhood home in Feldcroft, but something about it didn’t feel right. His thoughts always went back to it when he was feeling lonely, when he was feeling lost, when he had second thoughts about what he was doing and was eaten away by guilt and regret and fear — before they turned bitter all over again. And besides, since both those Aurors seemed to have been acquainted with his Uncle Solomon, they probably knew where he used to live. No, Feldcroft was out of the question, especially since he didn’t know how long they’d have their eye on Burke’s shop.

He should have suspected it, when there were traces of figures those past few nights in which he picked up the shipments from Dover. It became blatantly obvious that Aurors were keeping track of their activities, but Sebastian thought he was hiding his traces well enough. His concealment charms had always been sufficient before. He was beginning to wonder whether they had spoken with old man Burke already, and the lout just never told him, let him compromise himself…

“Should’ve known,” he muttered as he downed another glass of Firewhisky. “Got to get used to shady types in this business…”

The alcohol burned just right, but it did little to fill his empty stomach. He ordered a serving of roast lamb with spring vegetables and picked at it for the next hour.

This wasn’t the first close call he’d had, but it was the closest yet. And worst of all, it proved Ominis right — it was a dangerous business, and he should get out of it, and he was obsessed, but he couldn’t leave... He didn’t want to, first of all, and second of all he had no idea what to do with himself if he lost this. Sebastian realised with horror that this work — researching and acquiring rare items, the crafting and breaking of curses, conquering forgotten places, unveiling mysteries, the risk of death — was the greatest thrill of his life. The only thrill of his life. And he, in fact, had little else. A few friendships here and there, some more innocuous hobbies, but nothing that would have made his life a life.

He swirled the Firewhisky in its little glass and thought about whether he even wanted anything else. Books had always been an escape for him, a comfort, filled with new and wonderful and interesting things, and in no time at all his pursuit of the interesting had become the most worthwhile thing he knew. It was an easy step from that to the dark arts, because while a whole cabinet of warlocks might argue that they were dangerous and immoral and perilous to one’s soul, no one could deny that they were interesting.

But then, like seafoam breaking on a cliffside, she came to his mind again.

She who was content with such a quiet life, a little house — much like his own had been in Feldcroft — growing flowers, raising poultry, trading with the neighbours… For her, a sunny day was a reason to be happy, and winters were spent around a warm fire, and spring spent picking flowers, and autumn drinking fresh wine from the barrel… She never missed the sort of life he had, because she never knew it. Hadn’t been drawn to it. Wasn’t tempted by it.

“What a life,” he sighed, taking another drink.

Could he be envious of it? He could. Of the purity, the peace, the smallness and the closeness and the comfort of her home, with its cluttered little living room and cramped kitchen and however many bedrooms she could fit inside that house — probably two, one for herself and one for…

“Her brother,” he whispered in a moment of sudden sobriety. “She has a brother. One who isn’t there right now.”

Sebastian scrambled to get up and asked the barkeep for a quill and parchment. Ten minutes later, an owl was sent off to her wherein he modestly asked if he could visit her again and maybe, possibly, if she was willing, and for adequate compensation, stay a few nights in her brother’s bedroom.

She received it in the morning, and read it with some trepidation... She had expected him to write soon, but not to so boldly ask to live with her. Perhaps she’d put a bit too much Amortentia on that glove…

But there was something off about his letter, something… specific. He didn’t just want to live with her, he had her brother’s bedroom in mind, and for a limited amount of time, and — oh. Her brother’s bedroom.

She spent the next two hours going through spell after spell to get the place ready, trying to make it look as natural as possible for a young wizard about his age, transfigurating and disapparating and summoning the sort of things that would typically be in it. She fretted and fussed over it for so long that the morning turned into the afternoon. With bated breath, at 3 o’clock, she wrote back to Sebastian that she would be willing, if he so needed it, to host him for a few nights at no expense.

She read through the letter at least five times before she sent it with the owl. Immediately after it flew off, she wondered if she could not have worded something better, but it was too late now…

Her fireplace was too small to be linked to the Floo network, so Sebastian was due to arrive on foot from the nearby tavern. She considered going to wait there for him, but she found too many things to fuss about in the house — the clutter in the kitchen, the dust in the living room, the weeds in the garden, and the wash closet overly decorated with frilly little toiletries she’d collected over time. She wasn’t sure how she could survive having a man live with her for… for however long Sebastian intended.

He knocked on her door sometime in the evening. She scrambled through the house as she looked everything over one last time, caught herself in the mirror, fixed her hair one last time, and then finally went to the door. She took a deep breath — and then another, because she needed it — and opened it.

Sebastian smiled brightly, looking surprised and grateful, and like he hadn’t slept much the night before. His clothes were in a bit of disarray, the tie a bit crooked and his shoes dusty from the village road, his hair sticking out every which way like he’d been threading his fingers through it countless times, and he even seemed a bit unshaven…

Then again, she probably didn’t look much better. She’d hardly eaten anything that morning, spending it instead to get the house ready to receive a visitor — a tenant, actually.

“Good morning,” she said awkwardly, “I-I mean evening, hello, I…”

“Hello,” laughed Sebastian, his eyes shining as he took her in — his salvation. “Hope I didn’t inconvenience you an awful lot with this…”

“No! No, not at all,” she said, smiling brightly and tucking a loose lock of hair behind her ear.

“And on such short notice too…”

“No, don’t worry about it! Please, come in.”

She stood aside and let him pass, noticing with some surprise that he only had a briefcase with him. Did that mean…?

“So you’re only staying for a day or two, or…?”

Sebastian turned toward her with a crestfallen look.

“I c-can, if… if that’s…”

“I mean, you only have a little luggage with you, and…”

“Oh, this,” he laughed, looking down at it. How much trouble it had caused him… “It holds more than it seems to,” he winked at her.

“I see,” she smiled.

They looked at each other awkwardly for a few moments before she remembered to lead him further in. She had him sit by the fireplace while she brought out the tea, and let him catch his breath. It looked like he needed it.

“I hope the journey hasn’t been too rough,” she said as she poured him a steaming cup of Ceylon.

Sebastian understood her meaning. “Look that bad, do I?”

“No,” she said at length, sitting opposite him. “Just… tired.”

“It’s been a long couple of days. That’s why I may not be presentable. I…”

He didn’t want to tell her what had happened, didn’t want her to get that impression of him. It was bad enough that Ominis had chastised him like a little boy, like they were back at Hogwarts. He didn’t want to look like some irresponsible reprobate to her as well. On top of everything, he worried that if he told the truth, she might withdraw her offer to host him… But then again, he thought, that’s her right, isn’t it?

“I may have been a little careless,” he sighed, determined to tell her, in the end, as much as his pride would allow. He dared look up at her and found her sitting quietly in the patchy old armchair, looking him at him, listening. “Since you’ve been good enough to offer me your hospitality, I suppose you want to know why I called upon you. Because it truly isn’t my intention to put you through any difficulty, and I really am ashamed to have had to ask, but —”

“Think nothing of it,” she said with a quick wave of her hand. “Please… Tell me.”

Sebastian bit his fleshy lower lip and continued. “For the past several years, I’ve been helping out a… businessman, with some shipments. And with research into certain items that he trades in. And sometimes other things, but… The point is, this gentleman has caught the eye of the Ministry, and they sent their Aurors over to investigate.”

He could almost hear it when the breath froze in her chest.

“They paid me a visit yesterday afternoon,” he said, taking a sip of the tea.

“What happened?” she asked quietly.

“Nothing. They asked me some questions, I answered… Offered to make me an informant, although I’ll have none of that,” he sneered. He wouldn’t betray even someone like Burke to the Aurors… No, if Burke was to get what was coming to him, it would be from Sebastian’s wand. “But it was too close a call for my liking. They’re watching my flat in London, I know it. I’ve seen them.”

She sat completely still as she listened to him, captivated by the intrigue. This was far more exciting than the little gossip that went around in Upper Flagley about Mrs Royer’s son stealing Mrs Patenaude’s pears.

“I can’t exactly clear my name for the time being, and as I’m not the only one involved, that complicates things. As I see it, the best thing I can do is disappear for a little while. Let things calm down…”

“But do they have anything to incriminate you?” she asked in a small voice, the teacup forgotten in her hands.

“They have nothing,” he grinned, and thought ‘I hope’. “No need to worry, Miss. According to the law, you are hosting an honest wizard.”

She smiled with him. This all felt very exciting, but at the same time filled her with very rational concerns — logistical concerns. She needed now to rethink supplies for two people, for an indeterminate about of time, and cater her morning and evening routine to, perhaps, his own. And if he intended to slip out to London or elsewhere and do the sort of things he did, she needed to make sure he could come back in at night, or… wherever he returned.

Sebastian read all of these worries in her frown, and asked in a smaller voice, “Is that alright? If you changed your mind about it, I… I will think nothing ill of you.”

“No, I haven’t,” she reassured him quickly. “It’s just… well, I’m not very used to this,” she finished with a tense laugh.

“Well, just pretend I’m your brother, then,” he chuckled.

She smiled tensely back and nodded, then dipped her head to sip her tea.

“And about payment, I couldn’t possibly live here with some form of—”

“We can discuss that later.”

“But, really…”

“Would you like to see your bedroom?” she asked.

She led him to the right side of the house, to a chamber that opened directly from the living room.

The narrow brown door opened to reveal an almost perfectly square room, small and with a quite low ceiling, as otherwise was the rest of the house. A pair of little windows opened like eyes toward the garden and the fields beyond. The floor was softened by a carpet that was perhaps half the size of the room itself, weaved in red and brown and green in something of an autumn scenery.

On the left side, by the door, was a narrow bed that was quite high and looked exceedingly soft, covered over with brown blankets tipped with tassels all around the edges. A wardrobe stood at its foot, hewn from rough old wood. Facing the windows were a little writing desk and a chair that looked quite hard and uncomfortable, but it was cushioned by a pillow on the seat. On the desk, bathed in the evening breeze, was a stout little candle in its silver holder, an empty vase, a mug, and a pewter wash basin with an accompanying ewer.

“Oh, darn,” she said, rushing in to get the empty mug. “I forgot that there…”

“That’s alright,” he chuckled. “Don’t concern yourself with tidying up or… with anything, really.”

She stopped and looked at him, watching his face, his every move. “It isn’t much,” she shrugged, looking around herself in shame. “But…”

“It’s wonderful,” he said, looking at her with a warm smile.

“Don’t suppose it compares to your London flat,” she winced.

“No, it doesn't,” he said brightly, looking around the room. “It’s impeccably clean.”

She laughed briefly, incredulously, but she wasn’t about to turn down his compliment. “Well, I’ll let you get… get comfortable…”

The young lady took two small steps toward the door, smiling up at Sebastian who smiled back, looking grateful and at peace and… something more. He didn’t move, as if he had forgotten how to, choosing instead to look at her closely as she brushed past to leave the room. Even a hint of her body brought back the same fire to his nerves that he had felt that Friday when he woke up with nothing but her on his mind.

She closed the door behind her and took what felt like the first breath in hours. Her hands gripped her corseted waist for something firm to hold onto, something to remind her that she was solid, she was real, this was real.

“I won’t survive,” she said to herself. “I won’t survive him…”