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vivithefolle · 4 years ago

Note

You said something about Hermione being “that white feminist” (and so you don’t think a black actress would fit in the reboot). What do you mean?

First off, why I headcanon Hermione as white!

Next off, let’s look at S.P.E.W.:

"How dare you!" said Ron, in mock outrage. "We've been working like house-elves here!"

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"It's just an expression," said Ron hastily. - Goblet of Fire, chapter 14

So Ron uses a rather racist… speciesist? Expression, then quickly amends when he sees Hermione’s reaction. That is good. This shows that even if he uses the expression, he can recognize it’s problematic.

And now for S.P.E.W….

She brandished the sheaf of parchment at them.

"I've been researching it thoroughly in the library. Elf enslavement goes back centuries. I can't believe no one's done anything about it before now. "

"Hermione - open your ears," said Ron loudly. "They. Like. It. They like being enslaved!"

"Our short-term aims," said Hermione, speaking even more loudly than Ron, and acting as though she hadn't heard a word, "are to secure house-elves fair wages and working conditions. Our long-term aims include changing the law about non-wand use, and trying to get an elf into the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, because they're shockingly underrepresented." - Goblet of Fire, chapter 14

Okay, yeah, that’s not on, Ron. Nobody likes being enslaved, ever. He’s only met one house-elf, and she didn’t seem very happy with being enslaved - but she seemed to despise freedom a lot more.

Meanwhile Hermione is on the warpath and is showing that she did research her stuff, although…

trying to get an elf into the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, because they're shockingly underrepresented

Very good! That’s excellent, a very good goal indeed. Only house-elves would know how to treat other house-elves better. …………. though, um, Hermione, haven’t you noticed that your, erm… organization for the right of house-elves… seems to also shockingly underrepresent house-elves?

But hey! At least she’s trying. She may want to look into actually talking to house-elves rather than trusting the stuff wizards have been writing about them, but…

"Listen, have you ever been down in the kitchens, Hermione?"

"No, of course not," said Hermione curtly, "I hardly think students are supposed to -"

"Well, we have," said George, indicating Fred, "loads of times, to nick food. And we've met them, and they're happy. They think they've got the best job in the world -"

"That's because they're uneducated and brainwashed!" Hermione began hotly, but her next few words were drowned out by the sudden whooshing noise from overhead, which announced the arrival of the post owls. - Goblet of Fire, chapter 15

And

A light rain had started to fall by midafternoon; it was very cozy sitting by the fire, listening to the gentle patter of the drops on the window, watching Hagrid darning his socks and arguing with Hermione about house-elves - for he flatly refused to join S. P. E. W. when she showed him her badges.

"It'd be doin' 'em an unkindness, Hermione," he said gravely, threading a massive bone needle with thick yellow yarn. "It's in their nature ter look after humans, that's what they like, see? Yeh'd be makin' 'em unhappy ter take away their work, an' insutin' 'em if yeh tried ter pay 'em. "

"But Harry set Dobby free, and he was over the moon about it!" said Hermione. "And we heard he's asking for wages now!"

"Yeah, well, yeh get weirdos in every breed. I'm not sayin' there isn't the odd elf who'd take freedom, but yeh'll never persuade most of 'em ter do it - no, nothin' doin', Hermione. "

Hermione looked very cross indeed and stuffed her box of badges back into her cloak pocket. - Goblet of Fire, chapter 15

… aaaaaand here we come to the problem with Hermione. Once she has an idea in her head, she won’t let go of it.

Fred and George have actually met the house-elves. Then Hagrid, our resident expert in Magical Creatures explains that house-elves seem to have a different view of their job than humans do.

Okay, but that’s what we’re told the house-elves are like. What are they actually like? Let’s go find our proof!

"Hermione!" said Ron, cottoning on. "You're trying to rope us into that spew stuff again!"

"No, no, I'm not!" she said hastily. "And it's not spew, Ron -"

"Changed the name, have you?" said Ron, frowning at her. "What are we now, then, the House-Elf Liberation Front? I'm not barging into that kitchen and trying to make them stop work, I'm not doing it -"

"I'm not asking you to!" Hermione said impatiently. "I came down here just now, to talk to them all, and I found - oh come on, Harry, I want to show you!" - Goblet of Fire, chapter 21

(I just want to point out that Ron has managed to find a better name than SPEW for Hermione’s organization in just a throwaway bit of brilliance. House-Elf Liberation Front spells HELF. H-ELF. House-ELF. Ron is brilliant and I will not have anyone say otherwise.)

So, Ron doesn’t want to “barge into” the kitchen to “try to make them stop work”, it doesn’t say anything about why he doesn’t want to do that, but Ron doesn’t seem to want to go inside the kitchen. Probably doesn’t want to disturb the elves.

And Hermione has finally learned that she’d be much better at this activism thing if only she actually talked to the people she’s activism-ing for! Good on her! And what she wants to show Harry is Dobby, for those who tried to make it into a Harmione moment.

"Would Harry Potter like a cup of tea?" [Dobby] squeaked loudly, over Winky's sobs.

"Er - yeah, okay," said Harry.

Instantly, about six house-elves came trotting up behind him, bearing a large silver tray laden with a teapot, cups for Harry, Ron, and Hermione, a milk jug, and a large plate of biscuits.

"Good service!" Ron said, in an impressed voice. Hermione frowned at him, but the elves all looked delighted; they bowed very low and retreated. - Goblet of Fire, chapter 21

So, Hermione isn’t happy with Ron, but the elves… the elves are certainly happy. Heh. :’) And hell, Ron has just given them a genuine compliment, he wasn’t being condescending or disrespectful.

And now…

Dobby beamed very brightly, and happy tears welled in his eyes again.

"And Professor Dumbledore says he will pay Dobby, sir, if Dobby wants paying! And so Dobby is a free elf, sir, and Dobby gets a Galleon a week and one day off a month!"

"That's not very much!" Hermione shouted indignantly from the floor, over Winky's continued screaming and fist-beating.

"Professor Dumbledore offered Dobby ten Galleons a week, and weekends off," said Dobby, suddenly giving a little shiver, as though the prospect of so much leisure and riches were frightening, "but Dobby beat him down, miss. . . Dobby likes freedom, miss, but he isn't wanting too much, miss, he likes work better." - Goblet of Fire, chapter 21

Ten Galleons a week and weekends off!! That’s big. I’m pretty sure Arthur Weasley doesn’t earn ten Galleons a week. And Dobby refused to take it! Dobby would rather work than be “free” in the sense Hermione thinks of it!

There is absolutely Blue And Orange Morality at play here! The house-elves do not work the way humans do! They are different in terms of culture and beliefs.

"Can't house-elves speak their minds about their masters, then?" Harry asked.

"Oh no, sir, no," said Dobby, looking suddenly serious. "'Tis part of the house-elf's enslavement, sir. We keeps their secrets and our silence, sir. We upholds the family's honor, and we never speaks ill of them - though Professor Dumbledore told Dobby he does not insist upon this. Professor Dumbledore said we is free to - to -"

Dobby looked suddenly nervous and beckoned Harry closer. Harry bent forward. Dobby whispered, "He said we is free to call him a - a barmy old codger if we likes, sir!"

Dobby gave a frightened sort of giggle.

"But Dobby is not wanting to, Harry Potter," he said, talking normally again, and shaking his head so that his ears flapped. "Dobby likes Professor Dumbledore very much, sir, and is proud to keep his secrets and our silence for him." - Goblet of Fire, chapter 21

So, Dobby does speak of it as enslavement, but in the same way he seems to not mind it very much if it concerns Dumbledore. Mostly because Dumbledore doesn’t actually force Dobby to uphold the full contract.

It’s again Blue And Orange Morality. Even if a secret could be very harmful, it’s a matter of pride for house-elves to never betray them. Dobby wanted to flee the Malfoy family because they were going to harm Harry, and Dobby liked Harry more than the Malfoys, which was why he went out of his way to help him and risked disgrace.

Ah, and what had the other house-elves had to say about Dobby’s behaviour?

"Dobby has traveled the country for two whole years, sir, trying to find work!" Dobby squeaked. "But Dobby hasn't found work, sir, because Dobby wants paying now!"

The house-elves all around the kitchen, who had been listening and watching with interest, all looked away at these words, as though Dobby had said something rude and embarrassing. Hermione, however, said, "Good for you, Dobby!"

"Thank you, miss!" said Dobby, grinning toothily at her. "But most wizards doesn't want a house-elf who wants paying, miss. 'That's not the point of a house-elf,' they says, and they slammed the door in Dobby's face! Dobby likes work, but he wants to wear clothes and he wants to be paid. Harry Potter. . . Dobby likes being free!"

The Hogwarts house-elves had now started edging away from Dobby, as though he were carrying something contagious. Winky, however, remained where she was, though there was a definite increase in the volume other crying. - Goblet of Fire, chapter 21

Yeah, Dobby is the only one who wants and enjoys freedom. And even then...

Dobby likes freedom, miss, but he isn't wanting too much, miss, he likes work better.

Is it insane? To a human it would be, but to a house-elf it’s probably normal. And who are we to declare that house-elves are brainwashed because they think differently from what a human thinks?

The problem is that we’re never given a clear answer. Are house-elves brainwashed or is it truly the way they are? Do house-elves need humans to survive or have humans forced them to become like this? How can we know? No answer is ever provided!

And let’s see how S.P.E.W. ends in GOF:

Winky's eyelids drooped and suddenly, without warning, she slid off her stool into the hearth, snoring loudly. The empty bottle of butterbeer rolled away across the stone-flagged floor. Half a dozen house-elves came hurrying forward, looking disgusted. One of them picked up the bottle; the others covered Winky with a large checked tablecloth and tucked the ends in neatly, hiding her from view.

"We is sorry you had to see that, sirs and miss!" squeaked a nearby elf, shaking his head and looking very ashamed. "We is hoping you will not judge us all by Winky, sirs and miss!"

"She's unhappy!" said Hermione, exasperated. "Why don't you try and cheer her up instead of covering her up?"

"Begging your pardon, miss," said the house-elf, bowing deeply again, "but house-elves has no right to be unhappy when there is work to be done and masters to be served. "

"Oh for heavens sake!" Hermione cried. "Listen to me, all of you! You've got just as much right as wizards to be unhappy! You've got the right to wages and holidays and proper clothes, you don't have to do everything you're told - look at Dobby!"

"Miss will please keep Dobby out of this," Dobby mumbled, looking scared. The cheery smiles had vanished from the faces of the house-elves around the kitchen. They were suddenly looking at Hermione as though she were mad and dangerous.

"We has your extra food!" squeaked an elf at Harry's elbow, and he shoved a large ham, a dozen cakes, and some fruit into Harry's arms. "Good-bye!"

The house-elves crowded around Harry, Ron, and Hermione and began shunting them out of the kitchen, many little hands pushing in the smalls of their backs.

"Thank you for the socks, Harry Potter!" Dobby called miserably from the hearth, where he was standing next to the lumpy tablecloth that was Winky.

"You couldn't keep your mouth shut, could you, Hermione?" said Ron angrily as the kitchen door slammed shut behind them. "They won't want us visiting them now! We could've tried to get more stuff out of Winky about Crouch!"

"Oh as if you care about that!" scoffed Hermione. "You only like coming down here for the food!"

It was an irritable sort of day after that. Harry got so tired of Ron and Hermione sniping at each other over their homework in the common room that he took Sirius's food up to the Owlery that evening on his own. - Goblet of Fire, chapter 28

Typical Harry, he tunes out the argument between Ron and Hermione. Ron probably didn’t like Hermione saying he only likes the elves for the food.

But look at Dobby, indeed. Dobby wants nothing to do with Hermione’s SPEW. Dobby doesn’t want to be the poster boy for house-elf freedom. Dobby wants to do his own thing and not be bothered for it.

No more to see in GOF after this. Moving on to OOTP.

'What in the name of Merlin are you doing?' said Ron, watching her as though fearful for her sanity.

'They're hats for house-elves,' she said briskly, now stuffing her books back into her bag. 'I did them over the summer. I'm a really slow knitter without magic but now I'm back at school I should be able to make lots more.'

'You're leaving out hats for the house-elves?' said Ron slowly. 'And you're covering them up with rubbish first?'

'Yes,' said Hermione defiantly, swinging her bag on to her back.

That's not on,' said Ron angrily. 'You're trying to trick them into picking up the hats. You're setting them free when they might not want to be free.'

'Of course they want to be free!' said Hermione at once, though her face was turning pink. 'Don't you dare touch those hats, Ron!'

She turned on her heel and left. Ron waited until she had disappeared through the door to the girls' dormitories, then cleared the rubbish off the woolly hats.

'They should at least see what they're picking up,' he said firmly. - Order of the Phoenix, chapter 13

Thank God for Ron.

I highlighted the “her face was turning pink” part because this highlights that Hermione is actually aware that she is tricking the elves. Ron says it and Hermione knows it’s true. But… the end justifies the means, to Hermione. Rather Slytherin of her in fact.

Meanwhile Ron is outraged on behalf of the elves. While Hermione wants to make the decision for them, Ron wants them to see and be able to make the choice themselves. And no, this isn’t OOC. This is Hermione’s qualities, her good heart and drive, becoming flaws, like qualities are often prone to do. Just like flaws can turn into qualities too. Peter Pettigrew was a coward but it sure saved his life, didn’t it?

'Winky is still drinking lots, sir,' [Dobby] said sadly, his enormous round green eyes, large as tennis balls, downcast. 'She still does not care for clothes, Harry Potter. Nor do the other house-elves. None of them will clean Gryffindor Tower any more, not with the hats and socks hidden everywhere, they finds them insulting, sir. Dobby does it all himself, sir, but Dobby does not mind, sir, for he always hopes to meet Harry Potter and tonight, sir, he has got his wish!' Dobby sank into a deep bow again." - Order of the Phoenix, chapter 18

And it turns out Hermione’s efforts are doing more harm than good. Dobby now has to clean Gryff tower all by himself! House-elves have strong magic, but still it has to be rough on him. Ron is proved right by the canon text. Ron understands elves better than Hermione does, because Hermione is trying to apply her human reasoning and morality to them, while Ron is more of a “live-and-let-live” kind of person.

To give you a comparison: Hermione is that person who insists that two men together can’t have “proper” sex but she’s not judging not at all but still you have to admit you can’t find the same fulfillment in another man as with a woman but she’s not homophobic, it’s just- While Ron is maybe weirded out at first, but then he shrugs and says “yeah ok whatever works for you”.

They were so busy that Hermione had even stopped knitting elf hats and was fretting that she was down to her last three. 'All those poor elves I haven't set free yet, having to stay here over Christmas because there aren't enough hats!' Harry, who had not had the heart to tell her that Dobby was taking everything she made, bent lower over his History of Magic essay. - Order of the Phoenix, chapter 21

Uuuuuuggggggghhhhh and this is where I start getting mad…

How can people say that Hermione actually cares about house-elves? “Having to stay here over Christmas”? Yeah, have you noticed how miserable they were in the Hogwarts kitchens? How awful it is that they’re not outside in the freezing cold, without shelter, without food, in a place they love, employed by a man who doesn’t consider them slaves! Poor little house-elves who are stuck at Hogwarts rather than in the loving care of a family like the Malfoys!

Hermione cares more about saving the house-elves than she cares about the house-elves themselves! Hermione seems to care more about being the house-elves’ saviour than about doing what is right by the elves!

Ah and Harry of course, lies by omission because he doesn’t want to get involved. Typical Harry I’d say.

Oh sure, he “doesn’t have the heart to tell her”, oh, how romantic, he doesn’t want to hurt her feelings, but wouldn’t it hurt YOUR feelings that you spent countless afternoons doing something you thought was making a difference only to discover one day that it really never accomplished anything, or would you rather be put out of your misery fast by a friend telling you how it is? I dunno which one you’d pick but I’d rather take the second one. It may hurt on the moment but at least I’m not working on a pointless endeavour anymore.

(Find the whole essay at Quora here)

So. This is Hermione’s first foray into social justice. So of course she’ll fuck it up.

But she’s fucking it up pretty royally, by speaking over the very people she’s trying to represent, by trying to impose her values over theirs and trying to tell them her values are the “better’ ones (yes Hermione is a colonialist) and, worst of all: she seems to be doing it for herself.

All those poor elves I haven't set free yet

I. I. I haven’t set them free. I am the saviour of house-elves, for I alone have noticed their terrible plight. I, Hermione the Enlightened, am special and will save an entire species from slavery, and I will be recognized by all in History!

Let’s also remember that Hermione is Muggleborn, so the fandom fawning over her “tolerance” and “progressism” is... um. Kinda pointless. Because it’s not exceptional for Hermione to believe that “slavery is bad”. Most countries have banned slavery. It’s not an amazing thing. All the other Muggleborns probably think the same thing. (That is without taking into account that house-elves are a wholeass different species of sentient beings, capable of making decisions and able to decide for themselves what to do.)

Anyway, that’s it. Hermione is Doing Activism Wrong, which is pretty much expected since she’s barely 15-16. But I’ve seen too many folks praise her for the way she went about helping the elves, which is certifiably awful.

S.P.E.W. should be something to, say, help abused elves be freed from their masters. That would be a good thing, that would help the cause. Help the elves that want freedom achieve that freedom. But free ALL elves without even asking them their opinion, treat elves as though they’re humans when they plainly aren’t, they’re a whole-ass different species? Hell no.

#vivi answers #ask #s.p.e.w.#hermione granger #hermione granger critical #hp meta #ron weasley #house elves #harry potter series #dobby #winky #goblet of fire #order of the phoenix

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bcdrawsandwrites · 4 years ago

Photo

Fandom: Return to Oz

Rating: T

Genre: Angst (with a happy ending)

Characters: The Wizard of Oz, the Gump, Tik-Tok, the Scarecrow, the Tin Man, the Cowardly Lion, Princess Mombi, Princess Ozma, Jack Pumpkinhead, and Dorothy Gale

Warnings: Gun violence, character death, isolation, solitary confinement, dissociation, neglect, child abuse, OH GOSH THIS COVERS A LOT OF TRIGGERING TOPICS BUT IT’S ALL CANON

Description: "The last thing I remember is walkin' through the forest and hearin' a loud noise." "His Ma-jes-ty the Scare-crow locked me in here and told me to wait for you." "Well, my mother built me to scare that awful witch Mombi..." It was all only a glimpse of what they went through. Dorothy may never know the full stories, but they would not forget.

Beta Readers: @jaywings and also my sister!

Notes: THERE ARE NOT ENOUGH RTO FICS OUT THERE AND I MUST RESOLVE THIS IMMEDIATELY also this is a multichapter fic but it’s all complete, so you can read the whole thing under the cut!

—~~~—

Chapter 1: On a Hunting Trip

For a land as fantastical as Oz, it could be dreadfully boring sometimes. Though Oscar chalked it up to how much time he had to spend holed up in the palace, dodging probing questions and pretending to have magical powers. A great deal of his time here had been spent coming up with his dazzling effects to keep the Ozians (and the Witches) wowed (and keeping... other meddling Ozians out of the Emerald City), but goodness knew he could use some leisure time.

So that was what he was out doing now, tramping through a nearby forest with a rifle on his shoulder. He'd bartered it off a local Emerald Citizen, who had little use of it, but who had much appreciated some delicacies from the palace kitchen.

Of course, he knew that one of his own citizens would be more than happy to give him whatever he asked for. But Oscar had elected to leave in disguise, informing his attendants that he would need some time alone in perfect silence and was not to be bothered for any reason... while he changed into a green hunter's outfit and sneaked out the window.

He'd never been much of a hunter back in America, but as a boy he'd once gone deer hunting with a friend. He recalled it being an exciting experience, trekking through the wood and tracking an animal to bring home for supper. Though in the end it had been his friend to do the deed, for at the last minute his will had failed him, and he could not bring himself to shoot the beast.

You've too soft a heart to kill a hart, Pinhead! his friend had teased, much to his embarrassment.

"A hart, maybe," Oscar muttered, "but wait till I bring back a magical beast from this country!"

It wasn't until he'd spoken those words that he realized he had no idea what sort of monsters lurked in these woods. He'd heard talk of terrible lions here, and even enormous beasts with the heads of tigers and bodies of bears--kalidahs, they called them. What if he met one of those monsters, rather than a beast of prey?

Crunch, crunch.

Swallowing a yelp, Oscar spun around, pointing his rifle this and that way, eyes straining to see what sort of creature was lurking in the shadows of the forest. What had he gotten himself into? What hellish monster was treading through the fallen leaves of the forest bed?

Crunch, crunch.

The sound was closer, and Oscar stood stock still. But the sound drew no farther than that, and he risked to creep closer, tip-toeing through the undergrowth. In the stillness, he could hear the soft breathing of a being much larger than himself, and held his breath as he poked his head around a tree trunk.

There was a clearing ahead, and within it, a pond of crystal blue-green water (so he must be closer to Munchkin country right now). And before the water stood an enormous beast, albeit not one quite as frightening as he expected.

It was tall and broad, almost reminding him of an ox, but its legs were longer, and its head looked to be more like an elk. Bizarrely, its tail consisted of a great deal of feathers like a rooster, and its entire body was green.

Stooping down over the water, the beast kept its mouth near the surface, but it did not drink. Rather, it seemed to be regarding its own reflection in the water. It hadn't seen him at all.

Some of the tension eased from Oscar's body as he watched this strange creature. If it hadn't been for the feathers and green complexion, he would have entirely mistaken it for an American animal. And while its size was intimidating, it was clearly not a predator, as far as he could tell. (But then, Oz was a strange country.) He very nearly turned and left before he remembered why he'd come here in the first place.

It had only been to alleviate boredom, not out of a true desire to hunt, but it seemed to be a waste to come out all this way to return back empty-handed. At the same time, what would he even do with a beast like this? It wasn't as though he needed food, when his own palace was well-stocked. Perhaps its fur would be valuable? But then... for what? No one had need of any riches in this place. Perhaps he could use it for a--

Crunch crunch crunch crunch--snap.

Something was rapidly approaching him, and fear bolted up his spine, causing him to raise his rifle. Simultaneously, the beast raised its head, ears perked, and Oscar had no time to think.

BANG!

The creature stumbled backward, but whatever was behind him had quickened its pace. Oscar spun around, aiming his rifle, and a human-sized shape jumped back.

"Woah, there! Woah!" the woman cried, holding up her hands. "Watch where you're pointin' that thing! I was just wonderin' what you were doing out here."

"Ah," Oscar breathed, lowering the gun. "Sorry, ma'am, you startled me."

"Bad thing to be startled when carrying one of those," she said, gesturing at the weapon. "You could've hurt someone or--"

She froze, staring at something over his shoulder, and without another word ran past him.

"Now see here--" Oscar turned to follow her, but stopped.

The creature he'd seen earlier was now lying still on the forest floor, and the woman was kneeling next to it. "You've... you've killed it!"

The sight sent a tremor up his spine as he realized what he'd done, but he couldn't balk now.

"Well, yes," Oscar said, shrugging widely as he stepped closer. "Do you think I wear this hunter garb and carry this rifle for fun?"

Running a hand through the beast's mane, she glared at him accusingly. "What would you hunt a gump for?"

For a moment he thought the woman was insulting him until he realized that must be the name of the creature. Thinking quickly, he pointed at the gump's lifeless body. "I'll have you know, ma'am, that a gump possesses many important magical properties!"

"You needn't kill it, then!" the woman cried. "If you should need its magic, you need only ask it for help."

...Oh, right. Ozian beasts could talk.

Shaking himself, Oscar stood his ground. "Ah, but you see, much of a gump's magic is only usable when it is dead. I had planned to bring it to the Wizard, but I suppose if you don't want him to do anything about the Wicked Witches--"

The woman's face had gone several shades paler, and she stood upright. "No, of course! I'm sorry, sir, I-I didn't..."

He stepped closer, examining the fallen gump before grabbing one of its legs. "Well, don't just sit there. Help me get this beast back to the city! The Wizard is quite a busy man, but I'm sure he'd forgive your interruption if you gave me a hand."

"Yes, of course!"

The woman took the gump's other hoof in her arms, and the two struggled to lift both appendages up over their shoulders as they hauled the beast's carcass back through the forest. All the while, Oscar tried to hide his relief that his bluff had actually worked.

But then, of course it had. These simpletons believed anything they were told if you spoke with authority. They weren't too far off from Americans, in that regard.

As they walked, the woman stared down at the gump's hoof, feeling it with her free hand. "I'm sorry," she mumbled again. "I hadn't known..."

"Now you do," Oscar said, still staring ahead. "I tell you, this beast will be more useful to this country in death than it ever was in life."

Chapter 2: On a Mission

Every so often, someone stopped screaming.

The sound, or increasing lack of it, did not alarm Tik-Tok. Nothing did, nor could it--not even the frightened Emerald Citizens rushing past him or looking for a place to hide--for he was a machine, and was not capable of emotions such as panic or fear.

Nevertheless, the change informed him that he needed to be faster, as he marched through the city, past the statues of people dancing, playing, reading--statues that had not been statues a mere ten minutes ago.

The ground shifted beneath his feet, and Tik-Tok bent down to see a grotesque figure claw out of the stones beneath him. At least, that's what he had assumed at first, only to quickly realize (for his think-works were fully wound) that it had not clawed out of the rock at all--it was the rock. It opened its mouth, snarling at him, and he merely swung his body to the side, striking with a closed fist. One of the creature's fangs chipped off, and it sank back into itself with a defeated howl.

More snarling joined the increasingly-quieting screams, and there was suddenly a great crack.

Tipping his body back, Tik-Tok spotted two more of the rock creatures atop an arch, ripping a massive emerald from the keystone of it. They, along with the gem, merged with the stone pillars again just as the arch crumbled.

"Tik-Tok!" a metallic voice cried, not much farther away. A familiar roar cried out with it.

He moved his feet as fast as his gears would allow, passing the destroyed arch and around another corner, where the Tin Woodsman and Cowardly Lion were facing two more of the rock creatures. While the Emperor of the Winkies was not a machine as Tik-Tok was, he moved much like one, swinging his axe in swift, strong arcs, yet unable to hit the monster before him.

The sight of the Tin Man using his axe in such a way might have startled Tik-Tok, had he been capable of such an emotion.

"These creatures are the ones turning everyone to stone!" the Tin Man shouted, sparing a quick glance at Tik-Tok as he continued to fight. He raised his axe to deliver what may have been a killing blow. "You must stop them befo--"

The creature reached out.

And the Tin Man, in a mere instant, became a stone man, unmoving and still as the rest of the statues.

There was a slight hiccup in Tik-Tok's gears that prevented him from acting immediately. At the same moment, the Cowardly Lion let out a mournful yowl and raised his paw to swing at the creature before him.

The rock creature touched him, and the lion became a lifeless stone, his great paw still raised in the air.

Remembering his speech-works, Tik-Tok took a step forward, stomping one foot against the ground. "Stop this," he demanded, and the rock creatures turned to him. "You will no long-er hurt an-y more of the peo-ple here."

Growling, both creatures sank into the ground, only to emerge directly in front of Tik-Tok, both of them reaching out with their talons. The stone claws clinked harmlessly against Tik-Tok's copper casing, and he spun his body, striking them both in their heads. With another howl the monsters retreated, melting back into the stone beneath them. Now that they were gone, Tik-Tok could see the stone statues that had once been the Emperor of the Winkies and the King of the Forest.

"Everyone, I think I've found a way to--oh--"

Scrambling steps skidded to a halt somewhere behind him. He could hear these softer sounds, he realized, for the screams had grown more distant. Turning his top half, he saw the Scarecrow standing behind him, his painted gaze turning from one statue to the other.

"I-I'm... I'm too late..." the Scarecrow said, his tall frame sagging.

"Your Ma-jest-y." Tik-Tok clunked a hand against his helmet in a salute. "I am at your ser-vice."

Shaking himself, the Scarecrow stumbled up to him, but his smile did not return--an unusual sight for the ruler. "Right! Tik-Tok, I've found a way to contact Dorothy."

"Dor-o-thy Gale from Kan-sas?" Tik-Tok blinked, adjusting his vision as the King of Oz neared him. He'd heard of this Dorothy and how powerful she was, but his think-works could not work out how a small human girl could be strong enough to destroy not one, but two witches.

"The very same!" The Scarecrow's smile returned, if only for a moment. "But we must hurry!"

"Hur-ry to where--?" Tik-Tok began, but the Scarecrow was already pushing him somewhere.

"It might be too late for me now," the Scarecrow went on. "They're turning everything living to stone, but they don't want to do that to me. I think it means they want me for something..." His straw rustled. "I don't know what. But I do know they can't hurt you."

"That is cor-rect. I am not a-live, and ne-ver will be."

"But you can wind down," the Scarecrow added seriously. "And when you do, they can harm you. I need to keep you safe."

Disloyalty was not a command found in Tik-Tok's gears, but he couldn't help but protest: "But I am the Roy-al Ar-my of Oz. It is I who must pro-tect you, Your Ma-je-sty."

"Not right now." The Scarecrow guided him down a narrow alley and stuck a hand into his jacket, fishing for something in his body. "As Ruler of Oz, I command you to turn your protection to Dorothy once she gets here. She'll know how to help us! She's done it before."

A strange request, but Tik-Tok could not argue. "When is she to ar-rive?"

For a moment the Scarecrow faltered, but only a moment as they stopped at the end of the alley. He retrieved a key from within the straw of his body, and stared down at it. "I don't know."

A threatening rumble of stones echoed in the distance behind them, followed by another chorus of screams, and quickly he stuck the key into a hole in the wall. In a moment, the wall swung open, and the Scarecrow urged Tik-Tok inside.

Tik-Tok did as he was instructed, marching into the room and observing it. There was nothing there, however, but dusty walls and a dustier circular window that faint light shone through.

The Scarecrow stooped down, placing a cotton-stuffed hand on Tik-Tok's chest plate. "Stay here, and wait for Dorothy."

The polished gems of Tik-Tok's green eyes stared into the painted blue eyes of the Scarecrow. Though both were man-made, the Scarecrow's face was wrinkled and worn with worry... and an unspoken apology.

"Stay here," he repeated, and hurried out of the room. With a great scraping and a slam, the door shut behind him. The key was pulled from the lock, and through it, Tik-Tok could see the Scarecrow stumbling away.

For lack of anything else to do--other than conserve his gears--Tik-Tok stood perfectly still in the middle of the room.

Echoes of stone crumbling, unfamiliar creatures snarling, and rocks shifting filled the air outside, and the screams were finally silent.

---

"Your Ma-jest-y!"

Tik-Tok's voice echoed slightly in the tiny chamber, but it sounded quite loud compared to the utter silence outside.

Occasionally he could hear squeaks of wheels, and even rarer occasions he could hear the screech of a Wheeler. What they were doing in the Emerald City, he wasn't sure, but his think-works were sure enough that the fact that they had not been turned to stone was not a positive one.

But in the moments he could no longer hear them, he raised his voice:

"Your Ma-jest-y! I be-lieve that some-thing is wrong!"

And he did--something was wrong.

Several days and nights had passed since the Emerald Citizens had turned to stone, judging by the light from the solitary, circular window in the cell. It had been eight days and nights, to be exact, and Tik-Tok had remained still the entire time, hardly willing himself to think other than to observe the time passing. After all, the Scarecrow had commanded that he wait until Dorothy arrived, and he would not want her to have to wind him up too much so shortly after meeting.

But now that it had been over a week...

Tik-Tok could not worry, but he could be aware that things were not going as planned. The Scarecrow had not been sure how long it would take for Dorothy to arrive, but surely he had not expected him to wait this long. He would have said so, if that were the case. While the Scarecrow lacked perfectly-functioning mechanical brains, he did have wonderful brains given to him by the Wonderful Wizard of Oz. He was the second-best thinker in Oz, next to Tik-Tok himself.

"Your Ma-jest-y!" Tik-Tok called again. "You must o-pen the door!"

He had tried on his own, but there was no knob--seemingly no way to open the door from within. He had pushed, but it would not give, and Tik-Tok opted to preserve his action.

"I be-lieve I can find this Dor-o-thy on my own, if you o-pen the door!"

Dorothy Gale was in Kansas. And he knew where Kansas was--it was not in Oz. He would have to cross the Deadly Desert, which he was perfectly capable of doing, for its deadly sands could not turn his unliving copper into sand.

"Help me, Your Ma-jest-y, please! Come bac--"

Tic-tic-clunk.

One of the three keys on Tik-Tok's body ceased turning, and his voice-works ceased functioning.

Tik-Tok's voice joined the silence around him.

---

Stomp, stomp, stomp, stomp, stomp.

Five paces toward the door.

Stomp, stomp, stomp, stomp, stomp.

Five paces back.

It had been thirty-three days--just over a month since the Scarecrow had left him here.

Alongside the squeaks and cackles of the Wheelers outside, Tik-Tok could occasionally hear the distant sound of a musical instrument--a mandolin. It was not an instrument that could be played by the Wheelers, but to whom it belonged, he could not say, for he could not speak.

But even then, there was still the occasional silence, usually at night. It was then he chose to fill the silence with his pacing, his great feet stomping into the ground beneath him. He did this not because he missed the usual cheerful noise of the Emerald City, for he could not miss anything, but to keep his gears from rusting and keep the dust out. Even though each step he took wound his action down slightly more, it would at least prevent him from locking up entirely, even if he should be wound up.

He hoped Dorothy would be here soon.

But at this point, he was no longer sure what "soon" was. A month ago, he had estimated that she would arrive within days, if not hours, and that the matter would be resolved quickly. Now, however...

The Scarecrow had indeed admitted that he hadn't known when Dorothy would arrive. But surely, surely he would have been wise enough to send for her quickly, or to ask her to arrive swiftly.

Tik-Tok paused.

They're turning everything living to stone, but they don't want to do that to me. I think it means they want me for something...

...If he'd asked her at all.

His think-works must have gotten dust into them--he had not once considered that the Scarecrow could have been captured before he was able to summon Dorothy. If that were the case, then what was he to do?

He could not continue to wait for her--he must try to open the door on his own.

Tik-Tok turned himself around to face the door, and took one step closer.

Tic-tic-clunk.

And now he could not move, except to turn his head and blink. The rest of his body remained as still as the statues outside.

---

Ninety-two sunrises. Ninety-three sunsets.

He had watched the sun rise and set through the window. He had heard the Wheelers shriek to each other every day, and heard them racing throughout the town.

Every so often he allowed himself to blink to clear the dust from his eyes, so he could continue to observe the passage of time.

Sometimes he heard voices--not the ones of Wheelers. Sometimes it was a soft-spoken voice he'd never heard before, other times a harsher, snarling one that had a great wickedness to it. Other times he would hear familiar voices, ones he'd heard around the city before. He would wonder, in those moments, if things were going back to normal, if someone would open the door, if he would be wound up soon, but then he wouldn't hear the voice again for some time.

---

Ninety-nine sunrises. Ninety-eight sunsets.

...No, one hundred. One hundred sunsets, for he'd been let in here during the day.

He allowed his head a short shake--he had to keep track of time. He had to watch the light.

At one point he heard a soft, gravelly voice within the city, followed by a short discussion that he could not make out, for the Wheelers laughed and howled all the while. Still he strained his aural gears--linked to his think-works--to try to make out anything that would be helpful.

"...has not escaped..."

"...no sign of anything..."

"...has not spoken--"

There was a great crash, followed by shrieks of laughter from the Wheelers, and another voice shouting at them.

Who was it who had not escaped? Had they been discussing him? Or perhaps the Scarecrow? Or... had they captured...

...someone...

...there was someone he was waiting for. What was her name?

No, it didn't matter. Forcibly he slowed his think-works, only allowing them to sense the change of day and night.

---

One hundred and twenty-one sunrises. One hundred and twenty-twenty sunsets.

The room was very dusty, and he could no longer turn his head. He blinked again to clear his vision.

There was shrieking outside, but he couldn't remember why. He almost raised his voice to demand who they were, but he had no voice to do such.

But he was smart. He understood things. He was a machine. He knew why he was here.

He was here to wait. But to wait for what? He couldn't remember.

What was he counting for?

---

One hundred two hundred five hundred-ed-ed two.

Scarecrows and Wheelers, rocks and statues, girls and ladies and rooms.

A scream outside! He could not scream. Where was outside? Where was he? Was it light or dark?

What is light for anyway? He forgot. His eyes could not open and he could not see. What did he have to see? Who knew?

Statues and stones, silence and screams.

Never never never never never coming back.

Taken here, went away, left forever and ever.

Ever, ever, ever, turn turn turn, wind wind wind.

Tick-tick-tick.

Tic... tic...

Clunk.

Chapter 3: On a Whim

"...peaugh!"

"Oh! Don't yell at me like that, please! I'm not deaf."

He paused, taking a moment to consider the fact that he existed.

There he stood in a dusty, dull room, with walls and windows and other things that seemed to be full of... holes, as though they were missing something. He wasn't sure what. In fact, he didn't quite know what he was, other than that he was taller than everyone else around him. Everyone else, that is, being... a very angry-looking woman in a very pointy dress, and a much shorter girl, a little over half his own height. The former was holding a tin can of a sort with a label that he couldn't read, and she stared down at, her rage giving way to amazement.

"It... it worked!" she cried, still far too loud for his own ears. (Did he have ears?) "It worked! Hah, that magician didn't fool me after all!"

"You're still yelling!" Wincing away from her, he suddenly felt his balance shift, and he began to topple. "W-woah...!"

Quickly the shorter girl stepped forward, catching him before he crashed. "Be careful," she said, her voice wonderfully soft and far more pleasant than the other person's. "I'm afraid I didn't build you to move, since I didn't know you would be... alive, later." She set him back upright, bracing him back against the wall he'd been standing against moments ago.

"You made me?" he repeated, holding one wooden hand against her shoulder until he was certain he was steady. "How did you do that?"

"I just put some wood and a pumpkin together, and dressed you." The girl stole a glance at the older woman, who was muttering to herself as she looked over the can. "And then I stood you here, against the wall."

He tipped his head, which, it seemed, was quite large. "What for?"

The girl leaned closer, lowering her voice. "To scare the witch, there, Mombi." She looked pointedly at the woman and then back at him. "I stood you in a place here, where you would meet Mombi face-to-face. She was scared... but then she was angry. She nearly destroyed you with a stick."

Shuddering, he cast another fearful glance at Mombi, who was hurrying away. He wasn't entirely sure what "destroyed" meant, but he didn't like the sound of it. "Sh-she did?"

"Yes, but then she decided to test that Powder of Life on you. She sprinkled it on, and... you came to life."

"I'm very glad for that," he remarked. "I quite like being alive."

The girl smiled up at him, and he decided he quite liked that, too. "I like your being alive, as well."

"We're agreed, then!" He tipped his head another way. "Do you... have a name?"

"Ozma," she said quickly, and stole another glance in the direction that Mombi had walked off to. "But that's not important."

"Do I have a name?"

At that, Ozma looked down, her face turning a slightly pink shade. "Yes... Jack. Jack Pumpkinhead. I might have given you a better name, if I'd known..."

"Jack Pumpkinhead," he repeated, then nodded. "Yes, I like that. And... you made me?"

"Yes I did, Jack."

"Does that make you my mom?"

Ozma took a step back, as though caught off-balance, as he had been before, and he held out a hand to steady her. But she smiled, putting her hand over his. "I suppose so. You may call me 'Mom' if you wish."

Though uncertain why, he felt the name brought a great deal of comfort to him, and it pleased him to say it. "Okay, Mom."

"You! What are you doing?" an unfamiliar voice snapped.

Both Jack and Ozma turned to face the new person, and Jack did so quickly enough to throw him off-balance once again, so his mother had to grab hold of him to keep him upright. The new person was another woman, who wore a strikingly similar dress to the one the witch had worn moments ago. If he didn't know better (which, he didn’t know much), Jack would think it was the very same dress.

"I was only talking with Jack, Mombi," Ozma replied, and Jack looked down at her in surprise.

"Mombi? I thought you said that other woman was Mombi."

"She is, but she has different heads. She's wearing head twenty-two right now." Ozma paused. "Her original is..."

"Head thirty-one," Mombi snapped quickly. "And just what do you think--"

"Where does one acquire different heads?" Jack interrupted, not keen on listening to Mombi's grating voice.

At that, Ozma gently pulled him away from the wall, helping him walk across the dusty floor. Walking was a new activity, and he found it did not come naturally to him, his long, thin legs wobbling all the while, but his mother kept him steady as she brought him to the window. Outside was a desolate gray place, with ruined buildings and walls and statues all about. In one spot, he could see a group of statues dancing, but without heads. "See there," his mother said, pointing at the group. "That's where she got them. Some of them, anyway."

Jack stared down at the statues, not fully understanding, but nodded nonetheless. "What a lot I'm learning today!"

"Enough of this!" Mombi snarled, suddenly between them. "What's the meaning of this? You're not seriously growing attached to this stupid pumpkinhead you made, are you?"

"I should hope so," Jack protested before his mother could reply. "She's my mom, after all."

"She's your--?!" Mombi looked from Jack to Ozma a few times before settling a glare on Ozma. "No, I won't allow it."

Jack stiffened. "What? Won't allow what?"

"It won't hurt anything," Ozma protested quickly, taking a step closer to Jack. "I can watch over him, and--"

"I told you you were never to talk to others like that!" Mombi snarled, and grabbed Ozma by the wrist.

"L-let her go!" Jack cried in protest, reaching out to pull Ozma away.

Mombi yanked her out of his reach, but otherwise ignored him, glaring down at the girl. "You know what I told you. Never speak to another person, never communicate with them--you are never to make yourself known to another person, ever. Not even your name!"

Had Jack not been so frightened in that moment, he would have thought it strange that his mother had, indeed, told him her name.

"Let me go!" Ozma shouted, pulling herself against Mombi, but the witch only growled at her, tugging her away and hurrying down the hall.

"Wait, no, Mom!" Jack cried. Shakily he moved to follow them, but without his mom's support, his body toppled and crashed to the floor with a great wooden clatter. No pain came with it--though he wasn't entirely sure what pain should feel like to begin with--but he did feel his wooden joints start to jostle loose. He tried to move his limbs in a way to crawl after them, but only succeeded in scrambling uselessly on the dusty floor.

"I'll be all right, Jack!" Ozma called out to him as Mombi carried her down a corner and out of sight. "I'll get us help!"

"You most certainly will not!" Mombi growled, her voice reaching a rather terrifyingly low pitch. Before Ozma could say anything in reply, there was an explosively loud KRACK-OW that rang throughout the palace, and within Jack's hollow head. Something about the sound filled him with terror, and he threw his hands over his eyes, wailing.

Only moments later everything was still, and Mombi gave a satisfied humph before her footsteps came back down the hallway. Jack shakily raised his head, only for his wooden body to seize up in fear. "Wh-where's Mom?"

Mombi did not answer, only marching up to him and regarding him with an expression he could not read (or see, for from his current angle he could only see the train of her dress, and it was hard to tip his head up further).

"Excuse me, Miss Mombi," he said, trying to push himself upright, "Where is my mom? That noise was very loud, and I-I'm worried about her."

Without a word, Mombi suddenly stooped down, grabbed Jack's left wrist much in the way she had Ozma's, and yanked.

"Oh!' Jack cried, immediately hating the pull on his arm, and even more the way it made his legs drag. He fought to put his feet beneath him, but Mombi did not wait, dragging him in the opposite direction she'd taken Ozma. "W-wait! I'm not standing yet!" He scrambled his legs, fighting to right himself, but Mombi was moving too quickly for him to do so. Then, realizing what direction they were taking, he fought all the more to get to his feet. "W-we're going the wrong way! This isn't where you took my mom!"

Still Mombi remained silent, hauling him down the hallway and finally toward a great spiraling stairwell, which she wasted no time in storming up, taking no mind for the way Jack's feet kicked and dragged behind them.

"Wait, no! P-please, let me get to my f-feet!" he whimpered. When she still would not answer, he looked back down the stairs. "I-I miss my mom. She liked answering my questions. C-could you please take me back to her?"

At one point Jack's right foot caught badly on a step, momentarily trapping him and causing Mombi to stumble. She braced herself against the wall before she fell, and turned to glare at him.

Jack didn't understand why she was so angry, but he took the opportunity to finally get his feet beneath him. His right leg, however, felt wrong--it was loose at the knee joint, and that worried him. "Miss Mombi, when we get to the top of this place, c-could you please bring my mom back, so she can--"

And again Mombi resumed mounting the steps, barely giving Jack time to match her pace. To his alarm, he found he couldn't, for her body was not built as awkwardly as his was, and once again his legs gave way beneath him.

While Jack had decided he did not much like shouting, he couldn't help himself: "PLEASE!" he cried over the clatter of his legs banging against the stairs. "I'm going to come apart!"

But at that moment, his legs finally stopped banging against things, for they had reached the top of the stairs. Here Mombi paused again, and Jack was finally able to get his legs beneath him, though his right one was wobbling terribly. "A-are we done moving around, Miss Mombi?" he stammered.

Now Mombi threw the door open, and once again began dragging him, though he fought to walk along with her, even as he felt the ropes that held his right leg together loosen further. He barely had time to look about the room around him, which was full of a lot of very, very dusty things. Mombi dragged him a short distance, then with a great amount of force, threw him into a corner.

Jack cried out as his wooden back slammed against an old sofa, jarring his whole frame terribly and nearly knocking his head off. Dazed, he reached up to touch his head, only to find that his left hand was missing--it had fallen off entirely, lying on the ground next to him. Turning his head, he found the same fate had befallen his right leg, which was lying a short distance from his body. "Wh-what was that for?" he whimpered. "You haven't told me why you're so angry with me, much less said anythi--"

In a moment Mombi was storming toward him, her eyes wide with anger, and at once he wished he hadn't spoken at all. "Shut up, you worthless pile of firewood!" she snarled, leaning down into his face. "You existed only so I could test my Powder of Life on you, and nothing more, and I can very well take that life away."

"NO!" he wailed, kicking his remaining leg to push himself further backwards. "Please don't do that!"

She pointed a finger in his face, and he stilled. "When I come up here again," she said lowly, "I'll chop up your stupid smiling head and make a pie of it, assuming it doesn't spoil first, and that will be that for you."

With that, she spun around and left the room, pausing only to give him one last glare before shutting the door.

Jack remained very still for some time, until an irritating clattering noise made him realize he was trembling.

"Th-this... has been quite an existence," he finally said, once he was quite sure Mombi could not hear him. "I wish I knew what I've done wrong..."

Remembering what the witch had told him, he decided that while he wasn't quite sure what a pie was, he would very much like to leave here before Mombi returned to show him. Bracing his hand against the floor, he tried to raise himself up, only to remember that he could not stand on one leg. He would have to tie it back on, if he could.

He tried to reach for the detached leg, and realized another problem--one of his hands was missing, and since it wasn't attached, he could not move it. He strained to reach for it for several minutes, but it occurred to him he had no way of tying it back on. While he was quite sure he could figure out how tying things worked (he could see the method his mother had used when he observed his own joints), he could not do it with only one hand. He needed use of both limbs in order to tie his missing limb back together.

As it was, he could only sit in that corner, his back against a sofa, his missing parts just barely out of reach.

"...I miss my mom," he said quietly, bowing his head.

She had told him that she would get help, so maybe she would be here later. He hoped she would... he did not like his body being broken like this, and not being able to move, and he wasn't sure when Mombi would come back.

And so he waited, sitting there in the stillness of the dusty room. Part of him wanted to call for Ozma, for he wasn't certain she knew where he was... if she was anywhere. (Mombi was a witch, after all, and that sound he'd heard... had she used magic on his mother? Magic was what brought him to life, but what if it could be used to take someone away, too...? What if she had become a statue, like the ones outside?) The thought, however, of Mombi hearing him kept him quiet.

But... Ozma had said she would get help. She had to. She had to.

She had to.

He kept that thought, repeating it in his mind... until he realized that it was very dark in the room, and growing darker. Something within him--the magic, he supposed, or perhaps the seeds in his head giving him basic knowledge--told him that this was night, and that the outside world alternated between the light of day and dark of night. Even so, the darkness chilled him--it was getting to the point where he could hardly see. What if Mombi came back, and he couldn't even tell?

Forgetting his fear of alerting the witch, he raised his voice again: "Mom!" he cried. "Mom, where are you?! I-it's dark here!"

But his voice only echoed slightly in the crowded room, and he heard no other sounds.

His fear left him undeterred. "Mom, have you found help yet? I-I want to get out of here!"

There was still no answer, other than a quiet wind from outside.

"Mom..." he whimpered, and finally fell silent.

Maybe his mom wasn't coming back after all.

Epilogue: On a Hope

Tick-tock-tick-tock-tick-tock...

The thought jumped into Tik-Tok's head, in the midst of the blankness of non-functionality:

How long has it been now?

He'd lost track of time, he realized. This was not good--something had clearly gone wrong with his mechanisms. He tried to open his eyes, but his lids were still too heavy.

"Huh. I wonder what he's thinkin' about."

The unfamiliar voice echoed in the room, but with his eyes still firmly shut, he could not tell whom it belonged to.

"I'll wind up his speech," came a softer voice, "and maybe he can tell us."

Tick-tock-tick-tock-tick-tock...

His head turned slightly, suddenly able to, and his eyelids finally lifted.

"Maybe he can tell us what happened to the Emerald City."

Blinking once, twice, to clear the dust from his emerald eyes, Tik-Tok began to stammer as his speech-works came back to him: "I--you--uh--come back--Your Ma--"

A young girl with dark hair in twin braids stood before him, regarding him with awe.

"...Good mor-ning, lit-tle girl."

---

It had been a long time--Jack couldn't be sure how long, though, since he'd stopped counting. The thought of how many days it had been since he'd last seen his mother only made him...

He put his hand over his chest, where he felt the sadness the most, and wondered if that was what pain was.

He only had a little dust on him, though--not nearly as much as the things all around him. The giant head above him, the plants, the portraits, and all the other things--he'd taken the time to look at them all, for lack of anything else to do. He'd stopped calling for his mom, too--it felt pointless.

And then the door opened.

At once he threw himself back, his head hitting the couch behind him. He scrambled with his leg, at first, and then decided staying still was better, staying quiet was better. If Mombi couldn't hear him, maybe she would forget about him.

But Mombi didn't come into the room. Instead he heard soft footsteps, as well as two voices. One was harsh and grating... but the other was... soft. Soft and... comforting.

Just before him, he could see a young girl staring at some portraits on the wall. A young girl... that was about half his height.

"...Mom?"

---

"...peaugh!"

"Peaugh?!"

"That's it!"

He blinked a few times, taking in his surroundings. Why wasn't it daytime? And... this didn't look like the forest. It looked... nothing like the forest. That was odd.

There were also a couple other people around him, both of them quite excited. One was a tall man that he was pretty sure wasn't a normal Ozian, and the other was a little girl.

"What's going on?" he asked, trying to turn his head and finding it oddly difficult, so he swiveled his ears instead. "Where am I?"

"Getting out of here, I hope!" the tall man exclaimed.

"Jack's right," the girl replied. "We're in the palace, but we need to get out of here."

That didn't answer much.

Feeling the need to stretch his limbs, he did so, only to find them... a great deal shorter than they should be. And more numerous. He didn't recall having more than four feet in anything other than height.

Normally he quite liked looking at his reflection, but at the moment, he felt grateful that there was no pond nearby.

The girl was suddenly in front of him, looking him in the eyes. "You're gonna help us escape, okay?"

While not in pain, he felt... out of sorts. Even so, there was something about this girl that he felt drawn to... not that he was in any position to argue, anyway.

"Okay, I guess so."

The girl smiled, and he felt a bit better.

He wasn't quite sure what was going on, but whatever happened, he was pretty sure he could trust this strange girl.

#jack pumpkinhead #tik tok #the gump #dorothy gale #return to oz #my art #my writing #fanfic #scarecrow #tin man #cowardly lion #mombi #ozma #so glad to finally get this posted

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sheadre · 4 years ago

Text

When Stars Collide (Jackson Wang x Reader) Part 2/2

Part One

Warnings: none

Jackson’s PoV.

He stared at his phone as he sat in his living room. Jackson felt so restless a long time ago, his heart was always thumping hard against his chest whenever he saw a picture of her. She was beautiful and her laugh was music to his ears. It’s been a week since he took her home after wrapping up the song at the studio. Ever since she debuted in N3XUS she drew his attention to herself in every music video or variety show.

Fans pointed out how badly her bandmates treated her and how much she was ignored by both the other girls and the company. She posted a few acoustic versions of their songs on her Instagram which left many people dumbfounded why her company was treating her so poorly. She was more than just talented. Jackson knew that he might fall in love with her right after he walked into the studio. Her voice was mesmerizing and it expressed so many feelings. He couldn’t help but stare at her in awe through the glass window.

He kept thinking back to that kiss she pressed onto his cheek as she said goodbye. He never thought he would feel like this. Even when he was so in love with Alice, it couldn’t compare to that buzzing he felt around (Name). Jackson sighed leaning back into his couch pulling a pillow into his arms, hugging it tightly. Then his phone went off startling him.

“Ey, man, I’m coming over with some take-out” sounded Bam Bam’s voice from the other end. “Jinyoung’s with me too.”

“Will you ever stop acting like you can just walk in here like you own the place?” Jackson sighed but smiled. Even after years of GOT7 ending, they were still as close as ever. Soon his doorbell rang and when he opened it, Bam Bam walked inside like he owned the place. He hung his head as he chuckled but his worry and nervousness never eased. Why couldn’t he just text her? Why was he so nervous?

“Hey man, you look like someone kicked your puppy” Bam Bam turned back to him while Jinyoung took his shoes off. Jackson’s response was silence as he walked over to the counter and started unpacking the food. “Wait, did Alice contact you again? Did she call you again?”

“No… the last time she did, I blocked her” Jackson shook his head while turning to the cabinets so he could grab plates and silverware.

“Then what’s wrong?” Jinyoung asked and his expression showed his worry for his friend.

“Ah, it has to be a girl! Did you get a new girlfriend? One night stand? Anything? Have you gotten laid ever since…?” Bam Bam was immediately interested making Jackson roll his eyes again.

“I have no idea, okay?” Jackson groaned as he planted himself in his couch with a pout on his lips. “We were connecting, wrote a song but… I don’t know…”

“Why are you not calling her? Just find out if she’s into you, man” his friend plopped down next to him. “It’s been so long since you looked at a woman other than as a friend. You need to get laid.”

“That is the only thing you can think about?” Jackson hit Bam Bam with a pillow. “I have no idea what to say…”

“Just text her ‘hi’ and she will respond, the pick up lines are so lame anyway but you can try them if you want her to run to the other end of the planet” Jinyoung chimed in making Jackson look at him as evilly as possible. The conversation quickly turned towards what everyone was doing and other things. It was relaxing to just let go of all the busy work days for a while and think about anything and nothing at the same time.

Then later that night, Jackson grabbed his phone and typed in those two letters with a winky emoji. His heart jumped in his chest but he decided to just put his phone down and take a shower first. He was tired and would have a long day the other day. When he finished with the shower, a message was waiting for him.

Time skip ~

A months went by and to his delight, the company wanted him and (Name) to shoot an MV for the song they collaborated on. It was tiring but he was filled with energy as he danced with her. She was so mesmerizing in her costume, her dance moves so smooth like she was born to do this and he thought so in reality. Jackson ever since seeing her perform on stage during a concert or in a music video, he thought that she was a natural. Her moves and gestures looked so effortless compared to the other girls in her band.

However, he knew that if you were passionate about what you were doing, people could achieve more than they would ever dream of. He was certain that she would achieve all her goals and more leaving everyone mesmerized. Then they were asked to perform on the newest Idol Producer during the live concert. The hype around the two of them was already large, fans wanted them to be together so when they appeared and he kissed her on stage, the whole place seemed to explode. They both agreed to it especially after the company asked them to show more intimate for the fans. It was too easy and he felt like no one was around them, like there was only the two of them. It was so sweet and he wanted to hold her and never let go. Jackson could see the same thing in her eyes but the moment ended with the music and she broke out of her trance.

To his disappointment, she had to leave the scene right after their performance for an interview with Elle. After that, they both had little time to even just chat with him being in a different country. It was frustrating then Jackson was invited to an awards show where everything turned downhill. One of the actresses he never even met before tried to make small talk and get closer to him. The intentions were so obvious and the woman was looking so cheap, acting so cheap. Though, the gentleman in him kept being polite to her which she took as a green light to be more pushy. Yibo, noticed it but was too busy listening to a director talk to him to go over to them. Jackson wasn’t angry with Yibo for not helping him out, he was still young and that director was way more important than to leave him hanging. Then the actress was in his lap before he realized what was happening and of course many fans and paparazzi shot a ton of photos in different angles of them.

First time in his life, Jackson pushed a woman away and ran away in frustration. He knew that by the time he reached the hotel room, (Name) would’ve already seen the photos and the none existent stories with them. But he couldn’t give up, he couldn’t let her slip away. For weeks, he felt miserable because she didn’t answer any of his texts or calls. One night, when he just wanted to fall into bed and not wake up for the next 72 hours, he found a letter on his coffee table with a ticket to Seoul. He furrowed his eyebrows as he lifted the letter to read it properly.

Dear Mr. Wang,

It’s Sue, (Name)’s assistant. I’m writing to you because I am aware of the truth behind those pictures. I’ve seen your live stream two weeks ago in which you explained everything. (Name) refused to see it but I know that it is not late, she is very much in love with you. I’m not writing to you as her assistant but as her friend.

There is an airplane ticket for you for the flight that comes to Seoul from Shanghai at 11 pm. I will arrange everything so she will be home, here’s the code for her apartment complex’s gate. I hope you can come…

Jackson’s heart seemed to skip a beat as he processed the words. He grabbed his phone, some cash with his keys and called a cab. He had to reach the flight which would take off in two hours. Throughout the flight he was restless, thinking about a million ways what to say to her. He couldn’t lose her. No one made him feel this way before, get under his skin, fill him with energy and make him giddy. Getting to her apartment was easy but knocking on her door was harder. Jackson stood there with a dry mouth and blinked a few times before he groaned and just knocked on the wooden surface of it without a thought in his head. He heard soft footsteps padding up to the door but all the air left his lungs when he saw her.

Your PoV.

You knew that everyone noticed your pouty face and bad mood lately but only Sue said anything about it. After all, she was the only person you told about your true feelings for Jackson. To your surprise, she wasn’t even surprised about that fact, just smirked at you knowingly and insisted on showing you Jackson’s live stream.

You definitely missed him. Being around him made everything so easy and effortless, so carefree. Ever since you stopped texting him, your days turned dull and grey. Nothing really interested you anymore and found yourself staring at your TV with a blank expression. Suddenly, someone knocked on your door which surprised you because you didn’t order food nor did you called over anyone. Not that you had many people to call over.

You walked up to the door with your eyebrows furrowed and opened the door. You thought you were having a heart attack when you saw who it was. Jackson was standing on the other side, disheveled, glitter sticking to half of his face and neck, dark circles under his eyes and panting heavily as he stared at you with wide eyes.

“J-Jackson?” you asked unsure of what you were supposed to do. “Um… Come in.”

Walking past you, you could smell his smell. You always thought that it was nice for him to not put on liters of cologne. Other guys tended to do so suffocating anyone in a ten meter radius.

“(Name)… just please, listen to me, I know the photos and what the media made up is contradictory but there was nothing going on between me and that woman” Jackson sputtered quickly after you closed the door. He grabbed your hand and looked at you pleadingly. “Please, believe me…”

“Why… are you explaining anything to me?” you asked quietly trying to pull away. He didn’t owe you anything, he was a free man, there was nothing official going on between the two of you. “You… don’t owe me anything…”

“Then why are you not responding? Why are you ignoring me since then?” he asked and leaned down so he could look into your eyes. He reached up to cup your face and wiped a tear away. You reached up and touched the wet trail of the tear in surprise. “I know we never got to officially go out… I wanted to ask you out properly after that night when we performed in live TV but you had to go to an interview. (Name)… I’ve never felt anything like this with anyone before…”

Jackson was looking deep into your eyes, forehead almost touching yours. He was still so perfect and you knew you would be a fool to not say yes. Every inch of you wanted to say yes… ever since you met him in the studio.

“I wasn’t angry with you…” you sniffed as you held onto his hand that cupped your face. “I was afraid that I was seeing too much into everything… I was afraid to be heartbroken.”

“I know… and I want to make it up to you” he breathed before his lips crashed against yours in an urgent, impatient yet sweet kiss. You could feel his desperation as he held onto you like his life depended on it. You kissed him back with your eyes closed. Your heart was thumping so hard against your ribcage as he pulled you closer.

He was everything you ever wanted and you were grateful for the stars to lead you to him.

Ten years later ~

Hong Kong was beautiful in its own way. You learnt Chinese quickly especially with Jackson helping you when you got stuck. When he first brought you home, to introduce you to his family, he seemed to be so proud showing you off. His family was nice and accepted you completely after Jackson proposed to you.

You knew how hard it was for him to propose after how his first fiancée let him down, but you couldn’t be happier to tie the knot with him. It was natural and nothing changed after years of marriage either except that you got two kids. You were always laughing your head off when Jackson was once left with your daughter for days because you had some work over seas and showed you the drawing your daughter made. He was glowing with pride and happiness, already telling your daughter that she was a true artist.

It was filling you with happiness to see him happy. He was so good at taking care of your kids, even made a special performance with them for Mother’s Day for you. Though, you got a whole different performance later in the bedroom. You loved him more than anything and you knew he felt the same way about you. There was no need for any proof.

End ~

#jackson wang #王嘉尔 #jackson #jackson wang x reader #jackson x reader #romance #fluff #fanfiction #k-pop #got7 jackson

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uwua3 · 4 years ago

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your name (pt. 2)

❄️📚 tsukioka tsumugi

part 1 — part 2 — part 3

summary: you find yourself in a familiar, but at the same time, new place.

author’s note: hi, everyone! :D this is the second part of the ongoing “your name” series~ ♡ this time, from your perspective! please enjoy, have a good day !! ☆(>ω・)

word count: 1,668

You woke up.

It was like a dream, like you had brought something back. You didn’t know what, but you were now awake. As you attempted to adjust to the darkness, all was quiet in the world. Until, you realized you had no idea where you were.

You quickly sat up from an uncomfortable position, the worn sofa beneath you doing nothing to help you feel better. Two separate stacks of unfamiliar papers surrounded both your sides as a T.V. was flashing colors against your shadow. Except… it wasn’t yours, per say. You looked over the sofa at the large shadow, moving your hand to see it do the same. This was real… but, who were you? When you reached into the person’s pockets to find some sort of a phone, you were disappointed to find a vintage, rundown flip phone weighing down the palm of your hand. Great, were you some sort of old man?

Trying not to scatter all the papers onto the ground, you took a careful step off the couch before hearing a sickening crack. This explained why you could barely see, as you crouched down to make out a pair of shattered glasses. You ignored the mess, moving away to find some sort of mirror. Instead, you discovered a barely lit studio apartment with everything wrong with it. The door was closed with a stool, half the lights didn’t work properly, and a distinct smell of cup noodles came from a broken microwave.

As you kept your hand on a wall to navigate, you began picking up small details that made this place home. The heavily marked calendar on the wall decorated the space, multiple photos of what seemed like student graduations neatly framed by the front, and certificates in psychology and education gave insight on who you were living through. It wasn’t perfect by any means, but it felt like a place that made you trust the owner.

By the time you reached the bathroom door, you breathed a sigh of relief that the light didn’t cut out as you flipped the switch. When you looked into the mirror, you expected to see an aged teacher having a rough night of grading. Instead, you could see your expression form into shock at the reflection. You were… a college student? You knew that wasn’t the case considering the multiple Bachelor’s degrees, but you looked so young and old at the same time. It was like the person was physically young, but ancient from the way his hands automatically gripped the sink to keep himself up. You were looking into the eyes of a tired boy, and you could feel it in your bones that no amount of sleep could cure whatever he was going through.

You had to tear your eyes away to turn on the sink, waiting for the water to build up in your cupped palms. The water pressure was barely there, but it was what you needed to remind yourself this wasn’t a dream. For some reason, you had woken up in a random boy’s body in his no-good, terrible apartment. As you washed your face and met your reflection once again, you could sense the determination in the way his mouth formed a line. You were going to find out why you were here.

You took a moment to admire the body you were in. Although the boy seemed to carry the weight of the world upon his shoulders, he was doing rather well for himself. He had long, overgrown dark blue hair that just revealed his same-shade blue eyes. His eyes held the light of a student ready to learn, even after many years of strict academia. His features resembled one of a game protagonist, and you weren’t used to this tall height on your side. Even in just a striped shirt, you could tell he was beautiful in his own right.

“No matter what, I’ll find you again.” You said for absolutely no reason, with no one to hear except yourself—well, him. His voice didn’t take you by surprise; it was expectantly gentle and inherently kind, it was fitting to a light smile like his. You left the cramped bathroom with two goals in mind: 1. Figure out where you were, 2. Decide what to do next.

The room seemed lighter in comparison to before, meaning the sun must’ve been rising. You didn’t have to search long to find a passed-down clock by the sofa’s makeshift nightstand. The lines read it was nearing 5 A.M. as you identified an alarm was about to go off in exactly thirty minutes. Next, you were about to rummage around for any sort of geographic location before a loud car horn cut off your thoughts. Immediately snapping your head towards the opening, you saw a cracked open balcony hidden away behind a bookshelf. As you made your way through, you had no idea how you thought it was quiet. Although it was still the start of the day, you could already see a highway jam packed with automobiles going towards the big city. The buildings around you were nothing compared to the distant skyscrapers, and a realization occurred within you.

You were in Tokyo, Japan.

Before you could go watch what the T.V. was saying, a ring sounded from the flip phone. Hurrying to answer, you stood upon the balcony in an unfamiliar city you always dreamt of visiting. When you finally put the phone to your ear, you noticed how… modern urban accents were compared to your original rural one.

“Heya Tsumu-Tsumu! I knew you’d be awake, you crazy workaholic!” A loud voice made you wince as you flinched back from the sudden volume. Your silence didn’t deter—you looked at the contact—Miyoshi Kazunari as he rambled on. It was way too early for this type of energy, but you could spot college student caffeine addiction from a mile away.

“Lucky for you~,” Kazunari dragged out his vowels when he spoke. Not in a country way, but it was actually a stylistic choice all trendsetters seemed to have. “I’m also crazy! Just finished a project and I got an early morning class.” Kazunari made crying noises, and you genuinely didn’t know if they were exaggerated or he was having his midlife crisis breakdown. Too many things were running through your head, you could barely keep up with the bold personality Miyoshi Kazunari was. How the hell did a quiet person end up friends with an extrovert like Kazunari?

“And because I’m super smart, I know you’re usually grading papers or somethin’. Wanna get coffee today? I need it, bad.” Kazunari invited you to get coffee… but you barely knew your way around your own apartment, nevermind Tokyo. You were so lost in thought that Kazunari took your lack of response as a deafening “no”. A slightly awkward laugh interrupted the twenty seconds of silence, the noise suddenly much less confident than before.

“Ah… sorry, Tsumu-Tsumu. You’re probably too tired, right? You usually don’t want to go anyways, I don’t know why I asked.” Kazunari trailed off in a mumble, clearly discouraged already. Hearing this total stranger give up felt like kicking a puppy. You had no reason to agree, but you did anyway. You don’t know if it was you or “Tsumu-Tsumu” trying to reassure Kazunari.

“U-Um! No, let’s get coffee,” You paused, letting out a similar laugh that was obviously strained. “Kazunari?” It was Kazunari’s turn to be silent on the phone, before exploding into a pattern of shock and disbelief.

“KAZUNARI?! Yo, Tsumu-Tsumu! Are we suddenly BFFS now or what?! You’ve never called me by my first name before, you must be real sleepy!” Kazunari teased, but you could pick up on his revived energy and excitement about the day now. You responded with a laugh once again to show you were listening, and Kazunari took it as a sign to drop the sudden lack of honorifics between you two. As Kazunari said he’d message you the address of the “hottest cafe right now in all of Japan”, you mentally beat yourself up over the slip of tongue.

This Tsumu-Tsumu guy didn’t seem like the type to just call people by their first names. You hoped this wouldn’t severely affect anything for him in the long run. When Kazunari told you to be there by 7:30 A.M., he hung up and an instant message came with a winky emoticon and star symbol. The quiet finally gave you enough time to process everything that just happened.

You had agreed to meet a total stranger—well, to you—at a random cafe in the middle of the biggest city in Japan. You didn’t even know your own name. Staring out at the city you would soon find yourself in, you headed back inside and shut off the T.V. without another word. It was time to get ready and somehow figure out a way to get to… you checked the address again, Omi's House.

You checked the calendar from before and saw neat kanji of a name that felt familiar. “Tsukioka Tsumugi.” You read out loud, subconsciously tracing the characters with your finger. It felt right, you had no doubt it was this person’s name. You were quick to relax when you noticed Friday was the one day Tsumugi had off out of the entire week. You felt pitiful at how the one column of Fridays were being crowded by filled blocks of events, part-time gigs, and more work. When could Tsumugi just get a coffee?

Maybe, meeting Kazunari was a good thing. You found a brown peacoat hanging on the knob of the door and slipped it on. You said goodbye to an empty apartment, and left with no clue where you were going. All you had was a ripped bag and a newfound spark to your eyes.

You were Tsukioka Tsumugi, a random boy in Tokyo, and you were going to make the most of it.

#tsukioka tsumugi #tsumugi tsukioka #a3! act! addict! actors!#a3!#act! addict! actors!#a3! actor training game #mankai a3!#mankai company #a3! x reader #a3 x reader #tsumugi x reader #a3! tsumugi #a3 tsumugi

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fortheheavenssake · 4 years ago

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💟💟 PG MM Anon(II) 💟💟 Interpretation Collection - 7

43. June 10

MM ANON … Gone……………everything is now B&W…………… “ but’ tomorrow is another day”………… “ but old thing, I look like bloody Bela Lugosi” ………… “ shutup Philip”……… “ just Take the bloody picture “.………”they’ve hardly ever been on a train William “………… “ yes , they’d be very excited �� “ ………… 🎼we’re all going to the zoo tomorrow 🎼…………… she lies for exposure……… yachting’ secret exposure !! …………… this time it’s explosive!! ………… “ great scoop Beth.”

*Entertainment purposes

💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻😊😊THANK YOU DEAR MM ANON😊😊🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

JUNE 10/2020. RIDDLE #43

Gone…….everything is now B&W…………… “

OUR WORLD HAS COMPLETELY CHANGED. I DO NOT HAVE TO TELL YOU THIS, YOU ALL ALREADY KNOW THIS.MANY ARE ARE FEELING IT, FEAR, ANXIETY, WHAT HAPPENS NEXT? GONE, IN A FLEETING MOMENT, BOTH SIDES OF THE ATLANTIC. STATUES HAVE BEEN DESECRATED AND TAKEN DOWN. OR WORSE YET A LONDON BASED AMERICAN MUSEUM COORDINATOR HAS TWEETED WHAT CHEMICALS TO USE TO DESTROY STATUES AND THE LIKE. OK WHERE WILL THIS GO? THERE IS NO GREY ANYMORE, ITS AS CONCRETE AS IT GETS BLACK AND WHITE. BUT LIFE IS NEVER SO SIMPLE. LIFE IS NUANCED WITH A ZILLION SHADES OF GREY.

“but’ tomorrow is another day”…………

THE LAST LINE IN GONE WITH THE WIND, AFTER RHETT BUTLER SAYS TO THE GORGEOUS VIVIEN LEIGH PORTRAYING SCARLETT OHARA, FRANKLY MY DEAR I DON’T GIVE A DAMN. CONTROVERSIAL LANGUAGE AT THE TIME. THEY TOOK FOREVER TO CAST THE ROLE OF SCARLETT BECAUSE THE BOOK WAS SO POPULAR THEY NEEDED AN ACTRESS THAT PEOPLE HAD ENVISIONED.I USED TO HAVE THE MOVIE POSTER THAT I BOUGHT AT AN ANTIQUE SALE, NOW I HAVE NO CLUE WHAT HAPPENED TO IT. SHE SHRUGS HER SHOULDERS AND SAYS AH WELL TOMORROW IS ANOTHER DAY. GREAT FILM. IN NO WAY GLORIFIES THE OLD SOUTH. SHOWS HOW CUNNING AND RUTHLESS FEMALES HAD TO BE TO SURVIVE.

“ but old thing, I look like bloody Bela Lugosi” ………… “ shutup Philip”……… “ just Take the bloody picture “.………”they’ve hardly ever been on a train William “………… “ yes , they’d be very excited 😜 “ …………

PHOTOS RELEASED TODAY ARE MARVELLOUS, NOT TAKEN BY CATHERINE BUT BY STEVE PARSONS. THIS TOOK PLACE DURING THE PHOTO SESSION. HIMSELF THINKS HE LOOKS LIKE THE FABULOUS BELA LUGOSI. CLASSIC HORROR STAR FROM THE 1930’S. HMTQ IS HAVING NONE OF HIS BEHAVIOUR TODAY. TYPICAL HIMSELF JUST TAKE THE BLOODY OR IS IT F****** PICTURE🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂.

HMTQ IS TALKING TO WILLIAM, ANTICIPATING THE ARRIVAL OF THE CAMBRIDGES. THE CHILDREN HAVE NEVER TAKEN THE TRAIN. I AM CERTAIN THEY WILL ALL HAVE LOTS TO TELL GAN GAN AND HIMSELF. WILLIAM IS CHERKY IN HER WINKY REPLY THAT A TRAIN RIDE IS MORE EXCITING THAN TIK TOK OR WHATEVER THE YOUNG ONES FANCY.

🎼we’re all going to the zoo tomorrow 🎼……………

CLASSIC CHILDREN’S SONG. I BET EVEN LITTLE LOUIS WILL BE ABLE TO TAKE PART IN THE BIRTHDAY TIK TOK PERFORMANCE FOR THE BIRTHDAY GENTLEMAN. HOW I WOULD LOVE TO SEE THAT VIDEO💜💜💜💜💜💜.

she lies for exposure……… yachting’ secret exposure !! …………… this time it’s explosive!! ………… “ great scoop Beth.”

WELL WELL WELL, WE ALL KNOW MADAM IS A LIE MACHINE. CONSTANTLY GRINDING THEM OUT. SOMEONE HAS BOTTEN INTO WHAT FORMERLY HAS BEEN SCRUBBED OFF HARD DRIVES, THE INTERNET. OR IS SOMEONE TALKING, A CAREFULLY CURATED SOURCE? SOUNDS LIKE THIS TIME IT WILL GO PUBLIC AND IT WILL BE EXPLOSIVE. EVERYTHING IS EXPLOSIVE THE LAST FEW WEEKS. SO WHO IS BETH THAT GOT THE GREAT SCOOP, MEANING A GREAT STORY FOR PAPERS OR OTHER MEDIA IE ONLINE OR MAGAZINE. ELIZABETH HOLMES HAS BEEN WRITING ABOUT THE ROYAL FOR YEARS. SHE ALSO SPENT A DECADE OR SO WORKING AT THE WALL STREET JOURNAL. I WONDER IF THIS IS THE “BETH” IN QUESTION WHO MAY HAVE SUSSED DETAILS ABOUT DINO YACHTING EXPLOSIVE DETAILS.

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

——————

44. June 11

MM ANON …… dib dib dib……… one metre before July …………care-ing monarch online ……… 🎼What picture,what a photograph 🎼………… DOC museum of photography ? ………. Columbus falls……… “ I shall insist it’s the best TTC old thing “ …………a trace race. ………… Sunday Balmoral?? ………… “ plenty of fresh air for them” ……… “ in the lodge” ……… “C&C can stay here” ……………” your good at this zoom lark old thing “…………… “Group Of eight, a dinner party “

*Entertainment purposes

✝️✝️🌈🌈🌈💟💟THANK YOU DEAR MM ANON💟💟🌈🌈🌈✝️✝️

JUNE 11/2020. RIDDLE#44

I CANNOT BELIEVE IT IS 44 RIDDLES ALREADY!☺️

dib dib dib……….

DIB DIB DIB IS DO YOUR BEST. BOY SCOUT CODE. ROBERT BADEN-POWELL STARTED THE WELL KNOW ORGANIZATION IN 1907. THERE IS A STATUE OR A SITUE REALLY, YOU CAN SIT NEXT TO IT IN POOLE. THERE WAS REAL CONCERN THAT PROTESTORS WERE GOING TO DESTROY IT. I POSTED THAT EARLY THIS MORNING HOW THE LOCALS STOOD UP AND AROUND HIM PROTECT8NG THE STATUE. NOW THE COUNCIL HAS PROVIDED SECURITY UNTIL IT CAN BE REMOVED. HOWEVER, AN ONLINE PETITION HAS ALREADY 15,000+ SIGNATURES TO KEEP IT. TIME WILL TELL. THE PROTESTORS HAVE A PREMADE LIST OF STATUES AROUND THE WHOLE COUNTRY. THIS HAS BEEN RESEARCHED FUNDED AND PLANNED FOR QUITE SOME TIME.

one metre before July …………

THE HOPE AND PLANS ARE , ALL THINGS BEING EQUAL AND THINGS CONTINUE, THAT PHYSICAL DISTANCING GUIDELINES WILL DECREASE FROM THE TWO METRE IT HAS BEEN TO REDUCED TO ONE METRE BY JULY. OH WON’T THAT BE MARVELLOUS. THEN 🤗 HUGGING.

care-ing monarch online ………

TODAY HMTQ AND THE PRINCESS ROYAL HAD A ZOOM MEETING CALL WITH HEALTH CARERS, THE EFFORTS OF VOLUNTEER WEEK. IT WAS HMTQ’S FIRST ZOOM CALL MEETING. THE CARERS WERE EXPECTING PRINCESS ANNE AND WERE BEYOND GOBSMACKED DELIGHTED THAT HMTQ WAS THERE AS WELL! JUST IMAGINE THAT! BIG EXCITEMENT FOR SURE.

🎼What picture,what a photograph 🎼………… DOC museum of photography ? ……….

OUR CATHERINE HAS BEEN SHOWING US SOME OF THE PHOTOS IN THE VARIOUS PRE DETERMINED CATEGORIES, FOR THE HOLD STILL, PHOTO EXHIBIT. IT IS TO DETAIL HOW ENGLAND HAS DEALT WITH THE PANDEMIC FROM DIFFERENT VIEWPOINTS. THE TIC TAC TOE ONE THROUGH THE GLASS WINDOW WITH A CHILD PLAYING ON ONE SIDE AND A SENIOR ON THE OTHER IS VERY TOUCHING. THERE IS STILL TIME TO SUBMIT SHE SAID YESTERDAY. THEN THE TOUGH JOB OF PICKING THE 100 PHOTOS FOR THE EXHIBIT. I HAVE SAID THIS BEFORE, I HOPE THEY MAKE IT INTO A BOOK.

Columbus falls………

ANOTHER VICTIM. THE STATUE OF CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS IS BOSTON WAS BEHEADED LAST NIGHT. NO RESPECT. WILL THEY GUARD EACH PUBLIC PLACE IF POLICE ARE DEFUNDED? THE MAYOR HAS ORDERED AN INVESTIGATION AND DISCUSSIONS ON WHETHER THE REMAINING PART SHOULD BE REMOVED.

“ I shall insist it’s the best TTC old thing “ …………

TWIN TRACK CANTILEVER RAIL TRAVEL. HIMSELF IS INSISTING THIS IS THE BEST WAY TO GO TO BALMORAL. CAR TOO LONG, PLANE TOO SHORT. PLUS SHE HAS HER OWN TRAIN!

a trace race. …………

IT IS HARD TO KNOW THESE DAYS IF YOU ARE REFERRING TO THE U.K. OR AMERICA. I SHALL PICK THE U.K. ON MAY 29/2020, , U.K. LAUNCHED ITS TEST-AND-TRACE SYSTEM. EVEN PEOPLE WITH NO SYMPTOMS AT ALL WOULD HAVE TO QUARANTINE FOR 14 DAYS. SAID TO BE VOLUNTARY BUT IF PEOPLE DID NOT COMPLY THEY COULD BY LAW BE MADE TO COMPLY. AS OF ONE HOUR AGO, AN ONLINE REPORT SAYS 31,000 CONTACTS AND 85% OF THOSE HAD BEEN CONTACTED TO ISOLATE AND 8,000 HAD GONE ON TO TEST POSITIVE FOR COVID-19.SO IT REALLY TRULY IS A RACE TO TRACE.

Sunday Balmoral?? ………… “ plenty of fresh air for them” ……… “ in the lodge” ……… “C&C can stay here” ……………” your good at this zoom lark old thing “…………… “Group Of eight, a dinner party “

THE BEST PART OF MY DAY, FOREVER ALWAYS DEAR MM ANON💜💜💜. HIMSELF AND HMTQ IN THE SITTING ROOM. THEY ARE NOW BINGE WATCHING, MY SUGGESTION OF BOARDWALK EMPIRE. FOR THE CLOTHES AND MUSIC ALONE ITS FABULOUS. SOUNDS LIKE THEY HEAD UP TO BALMORAL ON SUNDAY. LOOKING SO FORWARD TO THE CAMBRIDGES COMING, PLANNING STUFF THE LITTKE ONES TO DO.ENJOY ALL THINGS OUTDOORS. SOUNDS LIKE THE CAMBRIDGES WILL STAY AT THE LODGE. CHARLES AND CAMILLA ARE COMING AND THEY CAN STAY RIGHT IN BALMORAL PROPER. HIMSELF IS GIVING HMTQ GOOD COMMENTS ON HER ZOOM MEETING, HER VERY FIRST. WHAT A MODERN QUEEN WE HAVE!! DINNER PARTY OF EIGHT OK LET’S SEE HMTQ, HIMSELF, CHARLES, CAMILLA, WILLIAM, CATHERINE, TWO MORE?? HARRY AND ????😁😁😁😁

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

——————

45. June 12

MM ANON …… my BFF , sacked……… mr President,welcome ……… on mental health ‘ goal……… “they’ll still turn up old thing “………… “ they won’t see anything Philip “ ……… Boris,incandescent!! ……… “🍕 Pizza night children “………… “ thecrown old thing “ ……… “ NO!!” ………… “ we haven’t finished peakyblinders” ……… “ bloody brummies” ……… “ PHILIP!!………… Sydney ‘ we’re out of your refreshment sir “ ………… WHAT!!

*Entertainment purposes

✝️✝️🌈🌈🌈💟💟THANK YOU DEAR MM ANON💟💟🌈🌈🌈✝️✝️

JUNE 12/2020. RIDDLE#45

my BFF , sacked………

WELL WELL WELL, THE SWORD OF JUSTICE HAS BEEN WIELDED, AND SHE DID IT ALL BY HER OWN ARROGANT SELF. MADAM’S BFF JM, I KNOW YOU ALL KNOW THIS ALL SO I WONT GO INTO EVERY DETAIL. BUT ALAS POOR 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂I CANNOT HELP MYSELF, YOU SEE GOD GAVE US FREE WILL, SHE MADE HER OWN CHOICES. SHE CHOSE TO GO AFTER A FELLOW FEMALE CANADIAN, 🇨🇦, WOC, RELATIVELY UNKNOWN, SASHA EXETER. HEY DEAR, LADYKINRANNOCH, YOU HAVE BEEN THINKING EXETER IN YOUR RIDDLES, HERE IS GODS SENSE OF HUMOUR AND AFFIRMING YOUR INSTINCTS THAT EXETER WOULD PLAY A MAJOR ROLE!!!! THE COURAGEOUS BLOGGER WENT PUBLIC, GOT A FAUX WRITTEN SM APOLOGY FROM THE WOKE JM LOOKING AFTER HERSELF. LITERALLY MINUTES LATER JM MESSAGED HER ABOUT “Liabele suit”. I GUESS THAT IS A NEW LAW 🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂. SO SHE WENT PUBLIC AGAIN, SASHA I MEAN, SHOWING THE MESSAGE THE TIME OF IT AND CORRECTING QUEEN JM ERROR ON LIBEL. WELL SINCE THE, JM HAS BEEN SWIFTLY DROPPED BY EVERYONE. NO MORE PUBLIC SHOWING OFF, HER INSTAGRAM FOLLOWERS DROPPING LIKE FLIES. YESTERDAY I SAID MADAM WOULD GHOST HER. CHECK THE DM. SHE HAS DISTANCE BUT ONLY IN PUBLIC. WHAT KIND OF TOMFOOLERY IS THAT? HOWEVER THEY HOLD MANY SECRETS BETWEEN THE TWO. ITS COMING RACHEL, TICK TOCK. CLOCK 🕰. I WONDER IF SHE HAS BLOCKED HER ON HER PHONE 📱?

mr President,welcome ………

NEXT WEEK POTUS IS HAVING HIS FIRST RALLY IN TULSA, OKLAHOMA. A STATE WHERE HE IS VERY POPULAR. THERE IS A DATE IN AMERICA AND ACTUALLY A HOKIDAY IS SOME PLACES CALLED JUNETEENTH, I HAD NEVER EVER EVER HEARD OF THIS BEFORE BUT IT IS ON THAT DATE. THERE WAS THE END OF SLAVERY CENTURY OR MORE AGO A VIOLENT MASSACRE TOOK PLACE. ESPECIALLY IN THE SWIRLING GLOBAL TIME THIS WOULD BE SEEN BY MANY AS NOT A GOOD PLACE AND TIME. HOWEVER HE IS BEING WIDELY AND HIS SUPPORTERS ARE WIDELY ENCOURAGING HIM TO COME. TIME WILL TELL.

on mental health ‘ goal……… “

THIS COULD GO ANYWHERE. BUT ESPECIALLY NOW, MENTAL HEALTH IS LOW ON THE RADAR DESPITE ALL THE GOOD WORK DONE. HEADS TOGETHER FULLY PUT SUPPORT BEHIND BLM ON JUNE 2/2020 BUT THAT HAS BEEN LOST. ONCE THINGS SETTLE DOWN, WE WILL BE NEEDING MENTAL HEALTH FORMAL AND INFORMAL HELP. BY THE WAY, THERE STILL IN A PANDEMIC. CASES IN THE NORTHWEST AND SOUTHWEST AMERICA ARE INCREASING VASTLY IN THE LAST TWO WEEKS. PROTESTS IN ENGLAND, WATCH FOR CASES TO SKYROCKET WITH THESE PROTESTS.

“they’ll still turn up old thing “………… “ they won’t see anything Philip “ ………

WORRY BY HMTQ, HIMSELF REASSURING HMTQ. SHE IS SO WORRIED THE CAMBRIDGES MAY NOT BE ABLE TO COME,DUE TO THE STATE OF THE WORLD. HIMSELF REASSURING HER THAT THEY WILL BE SHIELDED FROM THE NEDIA BY THEIR PARENTS, AND ARRIVE SAFELY AND SECURELY.

Boris,incandescent!! ………

SO MUCH FOR THE PREVIOUS PLANS TO HAVE THE SOCIAL BUBBLE INCREASE THIS WEEKEND. THE WORLD IS ON FIRE, QUITE LITERALLY IN SOME PLACE. THE WORD INCANDESCENT , MM ANON, IS PERFECTO, TO DESCRIBE BOTH HIS RAGE AND THE FIRES, MAYHEM, ANARCHY TAKING PLACE.NOW A CURFEW IN LONDON. HIS PMSHIP HAS FACED SO MUCH DIFFICULTY. COVID, HIS COVID NEARLY DYING, CAME BACK TO WORK SO SOON, THE DOMINIC CUMMINGS CONTROVERSY WHICH SEEMS YEARS AGO NOW, THE PROTESTS MAYHEM, DESTRUCTION , ERASING OF HISTORY. BY THE WAY, RACHEL, YOU’RE ERASING FROM PHOTOS , IN BRITISH HISTORY IS ALREADY IN PROCESS. THE LEGAL PART IS IN PROCESS. TIFK TOCK. CURFEW, STATUES BOARDED UP AND METAL SHIELDS AROUND THEM, TWO SEPARATE ROUTES FOR PROTESTERS TOMORROW IE BLM AND THOSE THAT WANT STATUES PRESERVED AND WANT THEIR VOICES HEARD. MARCHES CANCELLED FRIDAY BUT SATURDAY TWO SEPARATE ROUTES WILL BE POLICE CONTROLLED SND NO VIOLENCE WILL BE TOLERATED. EXPECT HUGE CROWDS AND A HUGE POLICE AND POSSIBLE MILITARY PRESENCE TO MAINTAIN CIVILITY.

“🍕 Pizza night children “………… “ thecrown old thing “ ……… “ NO!!” ………… “ we haven’t finished peakyblinders” ……… “ bloody brummies” ……… “ PHILIP!!………… Sydney ‘ we’re out of your refreshment sir “ ………… WHAT!!

WELL SEEM THE CAMBRIDGES HAVING PIZZA NIGHT AS SO MANY DO ON FRIDAYS.

WINDSOR CASTLE SITTING ROOM. HIMSELF AND HMTQ ARE DISCUSSING DVD’S. HEY I TOLD YOU YESTERDAY THAT THEY WERE BINGE WATCHING BOARDWALK EMPIRE PER MY SUGGESTION. WHAT HAPPENED TO THAT?? SYDNEY, SYDNEY YOU ARE IN TROUBLE WITH 💜💜PG💜💜😁😁😁WHERE ARE MY DVD’S😁🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂. I KNOW THE UK IS IN DIFFERENT DVD ZONE BUT YOU MUST HAVE ALL THE ZONE DVD PLAYERS RIGHT??

WELL HIMSELF ASKS IF SHE WANTS TO REWATCH THE CROWN BUT SHE REMINDS HIM THEY WERE STILL ON PB BORROWING FROM CATHERINE’S COLLECTION. HE IS MUTTERING THE NICKNAME FOR THOSE FROM BIRMINGHAM, WHERE PB TAKES PLACE BASED ON A BIRMINGHAM STREET GANG IN THE EARLY 20TH CENTURY.HMTQ DOES NOT LIKE THE USE OF THAT TERM SCOLDING HIM. OH MY STARS, BEVVIE TIME AND THEY ARE OUT OF BODDINGTONS😮😮😮😮😮😮😮 🍺 🍺 🍺. NOW THIS RIGHT HERE IS A NATIONAL EMERGENCY FOR HIMSELF.

PLEASE STAY SAFE AND CALM DEAR HMTQ AND SIR, MANY ARE DEEPLY IN PRAYER 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

——————

46. June 14

MM ANON …HMTQ was social distancing ……… beautiful in blue……… “ amazing bloody parade “…… to Broach the subject …… “ you looked magnificent old thing”. ……… KHAN GET IT RIGHT …… a WEE disturbing …… hugs 🤗 not bugs……… the China syndrome ……… open market 😱😱😱………… won’t ring Beijing …………… “ Ahhh, Sydney, you refreshed the refreshments “ ………” ignore him Sydney “………… “ I found an old vidio TTC , 1975 Old thing, our favourite hits” ……… “ those were ones days” ………” we looked the mutts-nuts old thing

* Entertainment purposes

✝️✝️🌈🌈🌈💟💟THANK YOU DEAR MM ANON💟💟🌈🌈🌈✝️✝️

JUNE 14/2020 RIDDLE WAS FROM JUNE 13/2020

RIDDLE#46

HMTQ was social distancing ……… beautiful in blue……… “ amazing bloody parade “…… to Broach the subject …… “ you looked magnificent old thing”. ………

THE PARED DOWN TROOPING THE COLOUR WAS MARVELLOUS. HMTQ WORE AN OUTFIT FOR THE THIRD OCCASION, LAST WORN WAS BIG BROO HAHA IS IT GREEN IS IT BLUE. I SAY SHE WAS BEAUTIFUL IN EITHER COLOUR, MM ANON IS SIDING WITH BLUE. SOCIAL OR PHYSICAL DISTANCING WHILST SEATED FOR SURE. I THOUGHT WHEN THEY WALKED BACK INSIDE THERE WAS NOT QUITE TWO METRES APART BUT HEY SHE IS THE QUEEN!!! HOW GORGEOUS DID SHE LOOK THOUGH, MY MY MY. I HAVE THE PLEASURE OF OWNING THE VINTAGE BOOK, QUEEN ELIZABETH ll JEWELRY COLLECTION BY LESLIE FIELD. I GOT IT FOR MY BIRTHDAY LAST YEAR. IT WAS PUBLISHED IN 1987. IT CONTAINS SO MUCH INFORMATION AND PHOTOS. I KNOW MANY OF YOU REMEMBER THIS BECAUSE I WENT ON AND ON ABOUT HOW EXCITED I WAS AT THE TIME.🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂. THE WELSH GUARDS WERE ON DISPLAY, AS TRIBUTE TO THEM, SHE WORE HER WELSH GUARDS LEEK BROACH. NOTHING EVER EVER GETS LEFT UNDONE BY HMTQ. I AM CERTAIN IT WAS A BLESSING HAVING ANGELA KELLY WITH HER AT WINDSOR WHILE ISOLATING. SHE IS HER EVERYTHING GO TO, DRESSER , SHOE WEARER INNER, 🤣🤣🤣🤣NEW WORDS. ANYHOW I ALSO HAVE THE PRIVILEGE OF HAVING ANGELA KELKY’S MOST RECENT BOOK. A GIFT AGAIN FOR CHRISTMAS.

KHAN GET IT RIGHT …… a WEE disturbing …… hugs 🤗 not bugs………

DESPITE THE BEST EFFORTS THERE WERE SOME VERY SCARY MOMENTS IN THE U.K. VARIOUS CITIES CONTENDING WITH BLM, OTHER GROUPS AND THEN THE FAR RIGHT,FOOTBALL HOOLIGANS, EDL, ENGLISH DEFENCE LEAGUE AND OTHERS. THE OFFICIALS HAD DONE WELL TO CREATE BARRIERS AND DIFFERENT ROUTES FOR OPPOSING GROUPS BUT THE RAGE AND ANGER CAUGHT THE POLICE IN THE MIDDLE. I SO SO HATE SEEING BENDING OF THE KNEE. THIS POLICE SHOULD NOT BE REQUIRED TO GET ON THEIR KNEE EVER!! I BEND MY KNEE FOR NO HUMAN, CHRIST AND GOD ALONE, TO MY DEATH. THE CURFEW OF 1700HRS OF COURSE WAS NOT COMPLIED WITH. SO MUCH CRITICISM OF LONDON’S MAYOR KHAN. I FEEL LIKE SINCE HE HAS BEEN MAYOR HE HAS BEEN CRITICIZED GOING BACK TO HIS RESPONSE TO THE FIRST LONDON BRIDGE TERROR INCIDENT AND MANY SUCH THINGS SINCE THEN. I MUST SAY HE CANNOT GET IT RIGHT AND I AM EXTREMELY GLAD THE PM HAD STATUES PROTECTED BECAUSE I CAN SAY WITHOUT A DOUBT, I DO BELIEVE SOME WOULD HAVE BEEN DESECRATED OR DESTROYED. THIS IS SO UPSETTING.

I INCLUDED HUGS NOT BUGS IN HERE BECAUSE THERE WAS NO PHYSICAL DISTANCING AT ALL, LOTS OF SCREAMING, BLOOD, ETC, VERY FEW MASKS, NONE ON POLICE OFFICERS AND CERTAINLY ABSOLUTELY NO HUGGING. THIS IS A CESSPOOL FOR THE CORONAVIRUS TO LIVE, THRIVE AND SPREAD.

the China syndrome ……… open market 😱😱😱………… won’t ring Beijing ……………

GREAT MOVIE BUT THIS IS , SADLY, NOT A MOVIE. THE LARGEST MARKET IN BEIJING HAS BEEN CLOSED DOWN AND LOCKDOWN HAS BEEN IMPOSED AFTER COVID-19 DISCOVERED. THIS IS SO SCARY BECAUSE TIL NOW THE ONLY COVID IN CHINA WAS IN WUHAN , AT LEAST THAT IS WHAT WAS TOLD. WUHAN WAS SHUT DOWN BUT SOMEHOW IT STILL SPREAD ALL THOSE MONTHS AGO. YEAH BEST NOT RING BEIJING JUST NOW, THEY HAVE A MAJOR CRISIS. HOW LONG HAS THIS BEEN THERE? AS CASES IN THE UNITED STATES SOUTHWEST AND FLORIDA INCREASE, THERE IS TALK OF THE SECOND WAVE OR THAT BEING PART OF THE FIRST WAVE. OH DEARIE ME.

“ Ahhh, Sydney, you refreshed the refreshments “ ………” ignore him Sydney “………… “ I found an old vidio TTC , 1975 Old thing, our favourite hits” ……… “ those were ones days” ………” we looked the mutts-nuts old thing

OH DEARIE ME, THANK GOD SYNDEY FOUND SOME BODDIES FOR HIMSELF😁😁😁😁😁😁 CRISIS AVERTED!!! HMTQ TELLS SYDNEY TO IGNORE HIMSELF’S COMMENTS. SOUNDS LIKE HE FOUND AN OLD VHS OF TROOPING THE COLOUR FROM 1975. GREAT MEMORIES, FAVOURITE HITS AN D THOSE WERE THE DAYS, A LINE TO MEAN REMINISCING BUT ALSO A TV SHOW, GREAT SHOW. DID YOU KNOW ARCHIE BUNKER, ALL IN THE FAMILY WAS AN AMERICAN REMAKE OF THOSE WERE THE DAYS?? I DO NOT HONESTLY KNOW WHY OR HOW MY BRAIN STORES THIS INFORMATION BUT IT DOES COME IN HANDY😁😁🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂. HIMSELF COMMENTING HOW THEY LOOKED, I THINK MUCH BETTER THAN HIS THOUGHTS. HE IS QUITE THE GENT,🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂🥰🥰

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

—————-

47. June 14

MM ANON …… Adeleville……… Westfield?? ………… Charlottes delivery …………… 🎼grab the cash with both hands🎼………… another scam charity …………… she’s a race… ist ………… she publishes the book ………………… we will destroy her, we have the tapes…… “ no more Mrs, nice ma’am!! “ ………… “ ones gloves are orf Christopher ………… “ it was a very good year,old thing “.

ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY

✝️✝️🌈🌈🌈💟💟THANK YOU DEAR MM ANON💟💟🌈🌈🌈✝️✝️

JUNE 14/2020. RIDDLE#47

Adeleville……… Westfield?? …………

SIX BLOCKS OF SEATTLE HAVE BEEN TAKEN OVER BY A VARIETY OF ANTISOCIAL INDIVIDUALS THE AREA WAS CALLED CHAZ, CAPITAL HILL AUTONOMOUS ZONE, NOW IT IS CALLED CHOP, CAPITAL HILL OCCUPIED PROTEST. SO MAYBE MADAM HAS SOUGHT SOLACE IN AN AUTONOMOUS TERRITORY ENTITLED ADEL WITH ADELEVILLE OR WESTFIELD WITH KANYE AND KIM K🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂. MADAM HAS SWITCHED HARD FROM THE ARCHEWELL FOUNDATION TO FOCUSING ON SUPPORTING BLM, WHILE OF COURSE STILL GIVING 110% OF HER ATTENTION TO COVID.

Charlottes delivery ……………

ONE OF MY FAVOURITE COSMETICS LINES IS CHARLOTTE TILBURY. I HAVE SO MUCH ITS CRAZY!!! SHE HAS BEEN PURSUED BY MULTI BULLION DOLLAR COMPANIES AND SHE HAS A COMPANY WORTH ONE BILLION AND A BIT, WHICH SHE OUTRIGHT OWNS 50% OF . SHE HAS FINALLY SOLD TO AFTER WEEKS OF SPECULATION TO PUIG, A SPANISH COMPANY. I AM SO EXCITED FOR HER. SHE WILL LIKELY CONTINUE GREAT CREATIVE CONTROL. THIS IS PUIGS FIRST VENTURE INTO COSMETICS. WOWZA ALL IN FOR OVER A BILLION POUNDS OR DOLLARS. I PRAY QUALITY DOESNT CHANGE AS SO OFTEN HAPPENS WHEN BRANDS ARE SOLD. SHE HAS SUCH A LOYAL FOLLOWING I KNIW GIRLS ARE ALREADY STOCKING UP ON HER MAGIC CREAM BECAUSE THEY ARE AFRAID THE FORMULA WILL CHANGE. CONGRATS CHARLOTTE!!!! https://www.glossy.co/beauty/what-puigs-acquisition-of-charlotte-tilbury-means-for-beauty

🎼grab the cash with both hands🎼…………

CHA CHING CHA CHING. MM ANON I HAVE BEEN WAITING JUST WAITING FOR YOU TO RETURN TO ONE OF YOUR FAVOURITES, PINK FLOYD, MONEY. SMASH AND GRAB. ANY AND ALL THINGS TO GET MONEY. NO LIMITS AND LINES , ANYTHING, DO ANYTHING FOR MONEY, POWER AND PRESTIGE. THIS DESCRIBES MADAM ABSOLUTELY TO A T. CHA CHING. I CAN HEAR THAT BASE LINE AND THE CASH MACHINE SOUND FROM THE SONG AS I TYPE THIS.

another scam charity ……………

MADAM HAS SAID NOW THE ARCHEWELL FOUNDATION WILL BE PUT ON HOLD UNTIL 2021. CAN YOU RUN A FOUNDATION IN AN ORANGE JUMPSUIT? THERE HAS BEEN WORD IN A ARTICLE TODAY THAT MADAM IS STILL MOST DEFINITELY INVOLVED WITH SMARTWORKS. HOW MANY PIES CAN YOU HAVE YOUR FINGERS IN? SW, MM, BLM, SUSSEX, ARCHEWELL, COVID, MERCHING, AND EVERYTHING ELSE WE HAVE NO KNOWLEDGE OF, BUT BET YOUR BOTTOM DOLLAR THERE IS A WHOLE LOT MORE!!

https://www.thesun.co.uk/fabulous/11861898/meghan-markle-prince-harry-archwell-delay-black-lives-matter/

MADAM HAS NOW STATED THAT HERSELF AND HARRY😂😂😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣🤣, WILL FOCUS ON BLM AND COVID. TELL ME WHAT SHE HAS DONE FOR COVID? FAKE DELIVERIES BY HIRED ACTORS. WOW HOW DEDICATED YOU ARE RACHEL. SO STARTING A BLM CHARITY, WHERE WILL THE FUNDS GO, WHO WILL MONITOR ETC ETC ETC??

she’s a race… ist …………

JM HAS COMPLETELY LOST EVERY SINGLE THAT SHE FEEDS ON, PUBLIC ATTENTION, INSTAGRAM, GMA, CITYLINE, ETC ETC AND SHE DID IT ALL HERSELF. STORIES ARE COMING OUT OF THE WOODWORK FROM MODELS, PROFESSIONALS, WOC, HOW SHE TREATED THEM COMPARED TO WHITE WOMEN. SHE ALLEGEDLY HAS HAD A CONTINUED PATTERN OF THIS. SO SHE IS SCREAMING HER BEST FRIEND IS A WOC AND SHE HAS WATCHED HER BE TREATED IN A RACIST MANNER. YEAH RIGHT ESPECIALLY HARD TO SEE SINCE MADAM LEGALLY ON PAPER HAS SELF IDENTIFIED AS WHITE, AS CAUCASIAN. WOC ONLY ONCE IT WAS USEFUL AFTER JOINING THE BRF. BUT SHE NEVER REALLY TRULY JOINED THE FAMILY. JM’S REPUTATION IS IN THE GARBAGE AND IN THIS SEASON THERE IS NO COMING BACK FOR HER. I HOPE BEN HANGS ON TO MORNING CANADA AND ETALK. HAVE NOT HEARD A PEEP FROM HIM. GOOD THING DADDY IS A BILLIONAIRE EH JESS?? HER PARENTS ON THE FRONT PAGE OF THE DM WITH THE CHILDREN. SHE IS AT HOME SCREAMING, DRINKING PINK WATER.

she publishes the book ………………… we will destroy her, we have the tapes…… “ no more Mrs, nice ma’am!! “ ………… “ ones gloves are orf Christopher ………… “ it was a very good year,old thing “.

HMTQ AND HIMSELF MEETING OR PHONE WITH LG, LORD CHRISTOPHER GEIDT, ABOUT WHERE THINGS GO NOW. IF SHE , MEANING MADAM PUBLISHES THE BOOK, MIO AND DURAND WROTE, THEY WILL CRUSH HER WITH THE TAPES THEY HAVE. LG NO MORE MR NICE GUY MEANING THE GLOVES ARE OFF, THIS IS THE ENDGAME NOW. HMTQ SLYLY SAYING IN THE FIRST PERSON AS MONARCHS SPEAK, STATING CLEARLY HER GLOVES ARE ORF, CHEEKY WAY OF SAYING OFF. SHE IS READY TO RUMBLE. ENOUGH IF FLIPPING ENOUGH. GOOD ON YOU MA’AM. IT WAS A VERY GOOD YEAR IS A CLASSIC SONG. AND THE LINE FITS BECAUSE FINALLY SEEING THAT SEAHAG WHORE WILL FACE JUSTICE AFTER DRAGGING THE ENTIRE FAMILY, COUNTRY, COMMONWEALTH, ROYAL LOVERS THROUGH ABSOLUTE HELL, AND OF COURSE OUR HARRY. OH I CAN HARDLY WAIT FOR THAT DAY. WE HAVE JM DEALT WITH PUBLICLY NOW SHE WILL FACE WHATEVER LEGAL ISSUES ARE TO COME. SYDNEY BRING THE DRINKS PLEASE, A TOAST IS DEFINITELY CALLED FOR 🥂 🍻 CHEERS.

✝️✝️🌈🌈🌈💟💟PG💟 💟 🌈🌈🌈✝️✝️

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

——————-

48. June 15

MM ANON ……… Shetland lift-off……… LIZA with a ‘ don’t know em……………” it’s shopping Jim, but not as we show it……… “ matter of fact it’s all dark” …………… first jet easy ………… Brexit,old white guys drinking a lot. …………… a moment of reckoning ……… a virtual Wimbledon?? ………… Catherine to the rescue …… “ Ahhh , a relaxing night old thing “ …………… “Sydney’s provided a new box set” …… “Boardwalk Empire” ………“ bit violent old thing” ……… “ Epic Philip!!”…… “ones usual Sydney “………… “great!! No bloody tic toc.

*Entertainment purposes

✝️✝️✝️🌈🌈🌈💟💟💟THANK YOU DEAR MM ANON, THIS IS AN ESPECIALLY MEANINGFUL RIDDLE FOR ME, I THANK YOU FROM THE TOP OF MY HEAD TO MY TIPPIE TOES FOR INCLUDING BOARDWALK EMPIRE💕💕💕💕💕💕💟💟💟🌈🌈🌈✝️✝️✝️

JUNE 15/2020. RIDDLE#48

Shetland lift-off………

SHETLAND ISLANDS WAY WAY IN THE NORTH OF SCOTLAND. AMAZING TODAY FOR THE VERY FIRST TIME, A ROCKET WAS LAUNCHED THERE SUCCESSFULLY. I NEVER EVEN KNEW THERE WAS SUCH A PROGRAM THERE. THE SKYLARK NANO ROCKET WAS LAUNCHED FOR EDUCATIONAL PURPOSES. GATHERING DATA OF A METEOROLOGICAL NEED, GATHERING DATA ON WIND PATTERNS. I THINK LIKELY FOR FUTURE WIND FARMS POSSIBLY. SKYRORA IS BASED IN EDINBURGH. IMAGINE THAT! 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿

LIZA with a ‘ don’t know em……………

RUMOURS HAVE BEEN SWIRLING, HEAVEN ONLY KNOWS WHY BUT THAT MS MINELLI HAS BEEN CHUMMING WITH FAKE HARRY AND MADAM, AS IF!!! WELL TODAY, LIZA CAME OUT CATEGORICALLY PUT THAT LIE TO BED STATING COMPLETELY NO TRUTH TO IT.

“it’s shopping Jim, but not as we show it……… “

MM ANON LOVES THIS STAR TREK REFERENCE OF DR MCCOY TALKING TO CAPTAIN JAMES T. KIRK IN THE SCENE OF THE FILM SEARCH FOR SPOCK, WHEN THEY FINALLY FIND HIM, IT IS SPOCK, BUT NOT AS THEY KNEW HIM TO BE. STORES OPENING IN THE U.K. FIRST TIME SINCE LOCKDOWN. LONG QUEUES DUE TO THE RESTRICTIONS IN PLACE. PHYSICAL DISTANCING, CERTAIN NUMBER OF CUSTOMERS IN A STORE BASED ON SIZE ETC.

matter of fact it’s all dark” ……………

PINK FLOYD SONG ECLIPSE. MM ANON, FAVOURITE BAND, YOU HAVE USED THIS SONG PREVIOUSLY. Matter of fact, it’s all dark. The only thing that makes it look light is the sun.

HOW WE ARE PERCEIVING WHAT IS HAPPENING WITH ALL THESE RIOTS, PROTESTS, ANARCHY IN AMERICA. THERE IS LOTS OF DARK. BUT FAR FAR FAR MORE GOOD. GOOD IS ALL AROUND US. GOOD IS HERE ON TUMBLR. GOOD IS EACH OF US CARING FOR ONE ANOTHER. WE HAVE TO SHINE OUR LIGHT WHERE WE ARE.

first jet easy …………

EASY JET FLEW ITS FIRST FLIGHT IN ELEVEN WEEKS TODAY. MASKS WERE MANDATORY, NO ALCOHOL SERVED. A SMALL FLIGHT OF 51 PASSENGERS FLEW FROM GATWICK TO GLASGOW. I RECKON THAT IS A VERY VERY SHORT FLIGHT. THE CREW AND PASSENGERS WERE ALL CHUFFED😁😁😁

Brexit,old white guys drinking a lot.

CLUBS AND INSTITUTIONS IN LONDON AND ENGLAND ARE SEEN AS THUS. PRIVATE ALL MENS CLUBS OLD WHITE WEALTHY MALES DRINKING AND SMOKING CIGARS, NO WOMEN ALLOWED. I CANNOT RECALL THE CLUB NAME BUT THERE IS ONE WHERE ALL THE MEN ARE CALLED THE SAME NAME. A RETURN TO THE WEALTHY PALE MALE AND STALE AS MADAM WAS SO DESIRING TO HAVE. WAS THAT THE HOPE OF MANY TO BRING ENGLAND BACK TO THE WAY IT HAS BEEN FOR CENTURIES?

…………… a moment of reckoning ………

WE TRULY ARE IN A GLOBAL MOMENT OF RECKONING. THERE IS SO MUCH PENT UP RAGE AND THE LOCKDOWN JUST FUELLED IT. LOST JOBS, LOST PEOPLE, FEAR, JUST THE PERFECT STORM. THERE WILL AT SOME POINT NEED TO BE SOME DIALOGUE AND DISCUSSION AND A LOT OF LISTENING AND ACTUALLY ALL SIDES HEARING WHAT THE OTHERS ARE SAYING. AT THIS POINT IT SEEMS BURNING DOWN AN INNOCENT RESTAURANT IS THE THING TO DO AFTER A POLICE INVOLVED SHOOTING AND DEATH. MORE LOST JOBS. INNOCENT RESTAURANT OWNER AND WORKERS. THIS MAKES NO SENSE. TAKE YOUR OWN STUFF INTO THE STREET AND BURN IT IF THAT IS YOUR THING.

a virtual Wimbledon?? ………… Catherine to the rescue

OUR CATHERINE, THE DUCHESS OF CAMBRIDGE IS THE ROYAL PATRON OF WIMBLEDON. SHE ALSO LOVES PLAYING THE GAME AND IS VERY GOOD AT IT. IS SHE COMING UP WITH SOME IDEA IN STEAD OF THIS YEARS MISSED WIMBLEDON. VIRTUAL MATCHES?? EVEN JUST A FEW MATCHES FOR FUN, OBVNOT FOR THE TITLE. PEOPLE COUKD WATCH FROM HOME OR ON THEIR DEVICES. I THINK THIS WOULD BE MARVELLOUS. YET AGAIN, CATHERINE, THE WOMAN WHO CAN DO IT ALL, WHILE IN HEELS, TO THE RESCUE!!!

…… “ Ahhh , a relaxing night old thing “ …………… “Sydney’s provided a new box set” …… “Boardwalk Empire” ………“ bit violent old thing” ……… “ Epic Philip!!”…… “ones usual Sydney “………… “great!! No bloody tic toc.

OH I AM ECSTATIC, SYDNEY YOU FOUND MY BOARDWALK EMPIRE DVDS YAY!!!THEY FINALLY ARRIVED!!! THE MUSIC, SETS, CLOTHES AND THE STORIES AWESOME. SO BACK IN THE SITTING ROOM OF WINDSOR CASTLE. NO NEED FOR A BIG FIRE, ITS NICE AND COZY. HAVE WE GOT A FEW CORGIS TONIGHT SNUGGLING ROUND?? HIMSELF LOOKING FORWARD TO A RELAXING NIGHT BINGE WATCHING WITH HIS 🥬 CABBAGE🥰🥰🥰🥰, HMTQ. AT LAST SYDNEY HAS FOUND AND PUT IN BOARDWALK EMPIRE. HEY SIR, NO MORE VIOLENT THAN THE SOPRANOS AND MUCH MORE DELIGHTFUL TO GET LOST IN THE ERA. SOUNDS LIKE HMTQ IS QUITE ENJOYING IT, I KNEW YOU WOULD MA’AM, THE 1920’S , MUSIC, ALL ORIGINAL FROM THE TIME, REAL LIFE CHARACTERS, SO SO WELL DONE. SYDNEY TAKING BEVVIE ORDERS AND THERE WILL BE NO CHANGE, GIN AND DUBONNET AND BODDINGTONS!! HIMSELF QUITE CHUFFED FOR A NIGHT WITHOUT TIK TOC🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂😂😂MM ANON, YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW IT TOUCHES ME THAT YOU WROTE IN BOARDWALK EMPIRE.

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

——————-

49. June 17

MM ANON …… “she Ascot nothing on me” ………… para-thanks William ……… PC , LOST weight??…………Oxford,Oxford ……… STIR-oid ………U-Turn dinner …………… falling tragedy ………… the Paris peasants are revolting ……… ……… “ we can still dress-up cabbage 🥬 “ ………… “Anne, my yellow ensemble”……… “Sydney ‘ a photo”………… “that’s a keeper, old thing” ……… “ here we go , tic-toc, the three of them” ………… “O, and Catherine!!” ………… “ ehhhh, And William “ ………… “ make it a double Sydney “…… “ how entertaining Philip “

*Entertainment purposes….

I honestly thought I had posted this already……I have to find a better system….I will start dating it….

June 16 Tuesday

✝️✝️🌈🌈🌈💟💟THANK YOU DEAR MM ANON💟 💟 🌈🌈🌈✝️✝️

SORRY I AM A DAY LATE KIDS I HAVE PICKED UP A COLD AND IT HAS TAKEND ME DOWN.

JUNE 17/2020

RIDDLE#49

“she Ascot nothing on me” …………

DESPITE ASCOT BEING VIRTUAL, PEOPLE STILL DRESSED UP AT HOME. I AM CERTAIN HMTQ WAS THE FINEST OF THEM ALL, NO DOUBT!! NO MADAM TO TURN HER BACK ON HMTQ!

para-thanks William ………

PC , LOST weight??…………

Oxford,Oxford ………

STIR-oid ………

U-Turn dinner ……………

falling tragedy …………

the Paris peasants are revolting ……… ……

THERE HAVE BEEN RIOTOUS VIOLENT PROTESTS IN PARIS LAST WEEK AND SOUNDS LIKE THIS AS WELL.ANY EXCUSE FOR A PARTY SOME SAY.

… “ we can still dress-up cabbage 🥬 “ ………… “Anne, my yellow ensemble”……… “Sydney ‘ a photo”………… “that’s a keeper, old thing” ……… “ here we go , tic-toc, the three of them” ………… “O, and Catherine!!” ………… “ ehhhh, And William “ ………… “ make it a double Sydney “…… “ how entertaining Philip “

DAY BACK AT WINDSOR CASTLE. DESPITE ASCOT BEING VIRTUAL, THE DM YESTERDAY WAS FULL OF PEOPLE DRESSED UP AT HOME. HIMSELF USING HIS PET NAME, ONE OF THEM, FOR HMTQ, ASSURING HER THEY CAN STILL GET DRESSED TO THE NINES TO WATCH HER HORSES RACE. SHE HAS THREE OF THEM, I WAS GOING TO REMEMBER BUT ALAS I HAVE NOT. SOUNDS LIKE HMTQ HAS RANG ANNE AND WANTS TO WEAR YELLOW!! NICE BRIGHT SUNNY CHOICE. SYDNEY PLAYING CATHERINE BEING THE OFFICIAL PHOTOGRAPHER AND THE PHOTO TIRNS OUT WELL, ITS A KEEPER MEANS EXACTLY THAT. GETTING ALL WOUND UP AS THE FIRST OF HER THREE HORSES RACE. I WONDER IF CATHERINE AND WILLIAM ARE TIK TOK OR VIRTUALLY WATCHING AS WELL ALL DRESSED UP? SURE SOUNDS LIKE A SKPYE OR SOME SORT OF HELLO. DOUBLE BE VIES AND A GREAT TIME WAS HAD BY ALL

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

—————-

50. June 17

MM ANON … Goal no goal, offside!! …………red zone……… rear ended,whoops!! ………… saliva sample ………… another rally?? …………… a £ 900,000 paint job. ………… madam NYC incognito …………ZOOM to William ……… mutant outbreak confirmed ……………… NDA bombshell. …………joining the UN? …………… Chile lockdown ………”how many episodes old thing “ ………… “ yes , that Nucky chappie is a tad violent” ………… “ she’s meeting at Wimbledon “……………… “ Nanny’s taking them to the zoo”

*Entertainment purposes

June 17/20

✝️✝️🌈🌈🌈💟💟THANK YOU MM ANON💟💟🌈🌈🌈✝️✝️

JUNE 17/2020. RIDDLE#50

KIDS I WILL TRY MY BEST BUT OBHAVE A HEAD COLD STUFFED UP FEEL LOUSY SECOND DAY HERE SOOOOOTRYING MY BESTEST FOR YOU ALL💟💟💟💟💟💟💟

MM ANON

… Goal no goal, offside!! …………

ASTON VILLA WINS OVER SHEFFIELD UTD IN THE FIRST PREMIER LEAGUE MATCH TODAY . THERE WAS A TECHNICAL MALFUNCTION OF SOME SORT AND A GOAL WAS DENIED. LOTS OF ANGRY FANS FOR SURE. AM I WRONG OR ISN’T ASTON VILLA GEORGE’S FAVOURITE TEAM? I AM PRETTY SURE IT IS WILLIAMS FAVOURITE.

red zone………

I DO NOT BELIEVE THE U.K. IS IN THE RED ZONE OF COVID. THERE ARE CERTAINLY PARTS OF AMERICA AND THE WORLD SPIKING. MM ANON, THESE DAYS I FIND IT EXTREMELY CHALLENGING TO KNOW IF I SHOULD GO U.K., AMERICA OR ANYWHERE ELSE WITH YOUR CLUES. . NOT COMPLAINING AT ALL. I LOVE THE CHALLENGE AND LADYKINRANNOCH ALWAYS GETS EVERY POINT SO I CAN COUNT ON HER WHEN I DO NOT GET IT. AT LEAST THE READERS GET INFORMATION.

rear ended,whoops!! …………

A FEMALE WAITRESS IN LONDON HAS HAD TO ENDURE HAVING HER BOTTOM SLAPPED BY THE CHEF. HAVING NO RECOURSE, SHE, TOGETHER WITH FRIENDS HIT THE CHEF WHERE IT HURTS, REPUTATION AND MONEY. THEY HAVE GONE ONLINE AND GIVEN HIM BAD REVIEWS!! HE FINALLY SETTLED, SHE GOT £90,000!!! SETTLEMENT!!

saliva sample …………

THE OTHER DAY, THERE WERE FRIENDS PICNICKING IN THE PARK. ONE OF THE THUGS, AS THE GROUP WALKED ACROSS THE GRASS PAST THEM HAULED OFF AND HUCKED A NOOGIE AT HER FACE. DISGUSTING AND CANNOT BLAME RACE AS BOTH WERE CAUCASIAN. ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTING “SALIVA SAMPLE”. DM HAS THE VIDEO!

another rally?? ……………

AS I MENTIONED THE OTHER DAY, POTUS WAS TO HAVE A RALLY IN TULSA ON FRIDAY. HE HAS ANNOUNCED, OUT OF RESPECT, HE WILL HOLD IT THE FOLLOWING NIGHT TO RESPECT THE MEMORIES OF JUNE 10 AND THOSE AFFECTED BY IT. THE ELECTION IS IN NOVEMBER HE HAS TO DO HIS RALLIES. KIDS THIS ARENA HOLDS 18,000 SEATS. THERE WERE OVER ONE MILLION TICKET REQUESTS, OVER ONE MILLION!!! THAT SHOULD TELL YOU A LOT ABOUT HOW WELCOMED HE IS.

I REFUSE TO USE THE WORD RALLY FOR PROTESTS, MARCHES OR RIOTS. ARE THERE MORE OF THESE TO COME?? OF COURSE THERE ARE. THE DA IN ATLANTA JUST HELD A LONG PRESS CONFERENCE, I WATCHED IT, DETAILED INFORMATION. THE OFFICER WHO KILLED MR. BROOKS HAS BEEN CHARGED WITH EVERYTHING UNDER THE SUN AND HIS PARTNER HAS TURNED STATES EVIDENCE. APPARENTLY THE FIRST TIME THAT HAS HAPPENED IN FOURTY CASES IN THAT STATE. THEY DESCRIBED BEHAVIOUR THAT I HAD NO HEARD ON THE NEWS. I AM NOT REPEATING IT HERE SUSS IT OUT ON YOUR OWN, ITS EXTREMELY DISTURBING BEHAVIOUR ON THE PART OF BOTH BUT ESPECIALLY THE SHOOTING OFFICER.

a £ 900,000 paint job. …………

BANKSY DID A PAINTING AFTER THE GEORGE FLOYD MURDER.

POWERFUL PIECE. HOWEVER, I AM WONDERING IF THIS COST IS THE COST OF CLEANING UP THE DAMAGE OF THE MARCHES AND THE BOARDING UP AND SECURING UP OF THE MANY STATUES WILL EQUAL £9,000,000.

madam NYC incognito …………

HAS MADAM BEEN SPOTTED OR SEEN IN NYC?? I HAVE NOT SEEN THAT BUT WHO KNOWS SHE HIRED HERSELF AN ACTRESS BEFORE.

ZOOM to William ………

SOMEWHERE SOMEONE UNKNOW SOURCE HAS TWEETED OR TWIITTED OR WHATEVER SOCIAL MEDIA PLATFORM THAT HARRY HAS BEEN ZOOMING WILLIAM. NO CONFIRMATION OF COURSE, SO OBVIOUSLY NOT A RELIABLE SOURCE. HOWEVER, IN THIS CASE I 109% BELIEVE IT!! ZOOM, MOBILE, FACETIME ETC ETC ETC.

mutant outbreak confirmed ………………

THERE HAS BEEN A BREAKOUT OF COVID-19? IN BEIJING OR HAS THERE HMMMMM??? IT APPEARS THE VIRUS HAS YET AGAIN MUTATED, ACCORDING TO CHINESE OFFICIALS.AND THEY ARE BLAMING THIS OUTBREAK ON EUROPEAN SALMON!!!

NDA bombshell. …………

PRESIDENT TRUMPS NIECE, MARY, HAS WRITTEN A TELL ALL BOOK. APPARENTLY SHE SIGNED A NDA BACK IN 2001!! NOT TO TALK ABOUT HER RELATIONSHIP WITH HER UNCLE DONALD. I GUESS MAYBE SHE FORGIT ABOUT THAT OR THE PUBLISHERS DIDN’T KNOW?

“Mary Trump will release ‘Too Much and Never Enough: How My Family Created the World’s Most Dangerous Man,’ on July 28, according to her publisher” DAILY MAIL

WELL HE IS TAKING LEGAL ACTION TO PREVENT THE BOOKS RELEASE SCHEDULED FOR JULY 28/2020.

joining the UN? ……………

IS THIS CHAZ OR CHOP WANTING A SEAT AT THE TABLE WITH THE ADULTS NOW?

Chile lockdown ………”

COVID-19 CASES AND DEATHS HAVE SPIKED IN CHILE AND ITS OVER 200,000 CASES NOW. THEY HAVE STERNLY EXPANDED THE LOCKDOWN AS OF A FEW HOURS AGO.

“how many episodes old thing “ ………… “ yes , that Nucky chappie is a tad violent” ………… “ she’s meeting at Wimbledon “……………… “ Nanny’s taking them to the zoo”

MEANWHILE BACK AT WINDSOR CASTLE, HMTQ AND HIMSELF ARE CONTINUING BINGE WATCHING BOARDWALK EMPIRE. NUCKY THOMPSON WAS THE MAIN CROOKED POLITICIAN MOBSTER AT THAT TIME IN THAT AREA AND THE ENTIRE SERIES REVOLVES AROUND HIM, HIS LIFE AND THE GOINGS ON THEREIN. YES LIFE WAS EXTREMELY VIOLENT HOWEVER WATCH THE NEWS AT LEAST THEN, THE MOBSTERS HAD SCRUPLES NOTHING LIKE TODAYS INDISCRIMINATE VIOLENCE.

SOUNDS LIKE CATHERINE IS MEETING AT WIMBLEDON TO CONTINUE ARRANGING SOME SORT OF VIRTUAL TENNIS/WIMBLEDON. MEANWHILE 🎼THEY’RE GOING TO THE ZOO ZOO ZOO 🎼 😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣NANNY TAKING THE TRIO OF CAMBRIDGES TO THE ZOO.

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

———————

51. June 18

MM ANON ……… “NEVER………… “ ………” mon dieu” …… 🎼some sunny day 🎼……… “ good to meet again Mr President “………air corridor ……… “ to be honest,he was an obnoxious old bastard” ……… world beating 🍒……… non app- licable …… “ Bolt-hole. ………… self interest ……… BOE- more money!! …………… pepper sprayed……… “ O Philip, it’s the last one “……… “Always Downton Abbey old thing”

*Entertainment purposes

Thursday June 18

JUNE 18/2020

✝️✝️🌈🌈🌈💟💟THANK YOU DEAR MM ANON💟💟🌈🌈✝️✝️

RIDDLE#51

ANOTHER RIDDLE WITH LOTS!!! OF CLUES THAT COULD GO ANY DIRECTION. TODAY I AM GOING TO STICK WITH THE U.K.

I DO WANT TO ADD, FROM YESTERDAY, THE BOOK BY JOHN VOLTON I THINK IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN THE ONE I REFERENCED. THE FORMER NSA HAS WRITTEN A TELL ALL WITHOUT COMPLETING THE CIA AND DOJ CLEARANCE PROCESS. THEREFORE CLASSIFIED INFORMATION IS IN THE BOOK TO BE RELEASED TUESDAY. LATE LAST NIGHT THE DOJ FILED AN INJUNCTION. I HAVE NOT SEEN THE NEWS TODAY. HE IS IN A WORLD OF TROUBLE BECAUSE HE HAS LEAKED THE BOOK ALONG WITH ALL THAT CLASSIFIED INFORMATION.

OKAY, ON TO TODAYS RIDDLE.

“NEVER………… “

NEVER UPPERCASE, I AM THE ONLY ONE THAT USES UPPERCASE NORMALLY SO THIS IS OF EXTREME IMPORTANCE. IT IS THE FIRST CLUE, NEVER? IS THIS HMTQ, DUE TO COVID WILL NO LONGER BE ABLE TO GREET FOREIGN LEADERS AND CHARLES WILL HAVE TO ASSUME HER ROLE THERE? I HEAR WINSTON CHURCHILL UTTERING HIS FAMOUS LINE, “WE WILL NEVER SURRENDER” I THINK THIS IS THE MEANING. YES THINGS WILL CHANGE AS TIMES ALWAYS DO. BUT NEVER SURRENDER TO MOBS, ANTIFA FASCISTS, AND THE LIKE. THE GENERAL PUBLIC FEELS THIS WAY.

“ mon dieu” ……

EN FRANCAIS , en français, TRANSLATES TO MY GOD. WHO IS EITHER SAYING THIS IN SHOCK OR REACHING OUT TO GOD. I BELIEVE THIS IS REFERRING TO THE WWII ANNIVERSARY OF THE FORMATION OF THE FRENCH RESISTANCE TO THE NAZIS. READ THIS LITTLE LINK…..

“LONDON — French President Emmanuel Macron marked Gen. Charles De Gaulle’s famed World War II appeal to resist the Nazis on Thursday in a special ceremony intended to invoke the deep friendship between the longtime allies.

Macron traveled to London to mark the day that De Gaulle delivered his defiant broadcast on the BBC 80 years ago, urging his nation to fight on despite the fall of France.

“Your nation spearheaded the liberation of the world. It erected, against Nazi barbarism, the most beautiful of the ramparts: that of unity and fraternity,” Macron told Prince Charles. “The United Kingdom gave Free France its first weapon: the microphone of the BBC.” FROM WWW.SPOKESMAN.COM

🎼some sunny day 🎼………

WE JUST ALL SANG THIS A FEW WEEKS AGO COMMEMORATING THE WAR ANNIVERSARY. DAME VERA LYNN SANG THIS SONG THAT BECAME A NATIONAL THEME SONG THAT BUOYED A NATION AT WAR. SAD NEWS TODAY THAT SHE HAS PASSED AWAY TODAY. ANOTHER LEGACY, I HOPE SHE IS REMEMBERED. RIP DAME VERA✝️✝️✝️😞😞😞

“ good to meet again Mr President “………

FRENCH PRESIDENT MACRON HAD AN OFFICIAL VISIT TO LONDON. AS HMTQ IS STILL AT WINDSOR, PRINCE CHARLES DID THE MEETINGS IN HER STEAD AT CLARENCE HOUSE. IT IS LIKELY THAT HMTQ MAY NOT BE DOING ANYMORE OF THESE DUE THE AGE AND RISK. IT MUST BE DRIVING HER FRUSTRATION LEVEL. BYT MAKE NO MISTAKE SHE IS STILL RULING.

air corridor ………

THE TERM AIR CORRIDOR OR TRAVEL BRIDGES ARE BEING USED TO DESCRIBE PLACES THAT ARE SAFER TO TRAVEL TO WITHOUT QUARANTINE IN ORDER TO HAVE PEOPLE TAKE SOME VACATIONS A BREAK FROM LIFE ESPECIALLY NEEDED NOW, THERE HAS BEEN TALK OF HUMAN BUBBLES WHICH STARTED LAST WEEKEND IN THE U.K. THERE ARE COUNTRIES WITH LOWERS CASES IF INFECTION OF COVID-19 LIKE PORTUGAL. THERE IS TO BE A LIST OF COUNTRIES RELEASED.

“ to be honest,he was an obnoxious old bastard” ……… REFERRING HE WAS, SO THIS MAKES ME THINK IN THE PAST TENSE. SO IT IS SOMEONE WHO LIKELY PP KNOWS OR HAS DIED.

I THINK IF IT WAS DEATH IT WOULD BE WORDED DIFFERENTLY. I FIND A FORMER CONSERVATIVE LEADER, LORD HAGUE BEING VERY CRITICAL OF BORIS JOHNSON AND SIDING WITH FORMER LABOUR LEADER TONY BLAIR, HIS IDEAS OF MASS TESTING FOR COVID, BETRAYING THE CONSERVATIVES PLAN. HE HAS OTHER IDEAS REGARDING THE SAGGING ECONOMY. BUT IT SEEMS HE HAS ABANDONED THE PARTY HE ONCE LED. I COULD BE WRONG. I FOUND SEVERAL DEATHS, ONE IN APRIL OF COVID, A LORD BATH AND AN FORMER CONSERVATIVE MP JOHN MAPLES, 69. NEITHER FITS.

world beating 🍒……… non app- licable ……

THE NHS TRACK AND TRACE APP FOR COVID-19 BECAUSE WHICH WAS PROMISED IN MAY, TO BE FANTASTIC AND ALL THINGS AMAZING, AND TO HAVE BEEN READY BY NOW. BUT IT IS STILL FRAUGHT WITH PROBLEMS NOW IT IS BEING BLAMED ON APPLE, BECAUSE THE APP DOES NOT WORK ON IPHONES!!! THE TITLE OF THE ARTICLE HAS CHERRY SO I THINK MM ANON MIGHT HAVE LITERALLY BEEN CHEEKY. SO I SEE NON APP-LICABLE MEANING THE APP STILL NOT WORKING AS PROMISED OR FULLY IN USE.

https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-8435323/Delayed-NHS-tracking-app-SCRAPPED-completely-ministers-blaming-Apple.html

“ Bolt-hole. …………

BOLT HOLE IS A BRITISH TERM USED FOR A SMALL PLACE TO JUST GET AWAY TO IN A RUSH HENCE THE TERM BOLT AND HOLE. HOWEVER IN TODAYS WORLD MOST BOLT HOKES ARE MASSIVE COUNTRY HOMES FOR THE WEALTHY. THE SUSSEXES ALLEGEDLY HAD A FARM IN THE COTSWOLDS NEAR HER BESTIE VICTORIA BECKHAM. THEY WERE SAID TO BE VERY CLOSE AND SPEND LOADS OF TIME TOGETHER. ANOTHER OR LIE. SO WHOSE BOLT HOLE IS BEING REFERENCED HERE? THE BECKHAMS HAVE BEEN IN A LEGAL ROW WITH THEIR NEIGHBOURS REGARDING THEIR LONDON MANSION TODAY THEY LOST THE COURT DECISION.

I DO THINK HARRY HAS A BOLT HOLE WHERE HE HAS BEEN SPENDING A LIT IF TIME. WHERE IT MSY BE I WILL, NOT SPECULATE.

self interest ………

THIS CAN BE SEEN AS POSITIVE OR EGOIST. THE BLM CAN BE SEEN AS POC ADVOCATING FOR JUSTICE AND THEIR SELF INTEREST , THINGS THAT ARE VITAL TO THEM, THEIR ISSUES AND SURVIVAL. THE EXTREME ARE PEOPLE LIKE MADAM OR JM, WHO LIVE AND BREATHE ONLY SELF, WHATS IN IT FOR ME? MADAM IS NOW IRRELEVANT BUT STILL BREATHING PR. JUSTICE IS CLOSE. JM HAS BEEN SHUT DOWN ALL BY HER OWN EGO AND BEHAVIOURAL CHOICES.

BOE- more money!! ……………

THE WORLD, DUE TO LOCKDOWN IS RACING RAPIDLY TOWARDS RECESSION. AMERICA HAS BEEN STRONGLY REOPENING BUSINESSES AND THE ECONOMY AND JOBS NUMBERS ARE RISING RAPIDLY. COVID IS A KNOWN RISK. BOE, THE BANK OF ENGLAND, TODAY ANNOUNCED THEY HAVE “PUMPED” ANOTHER £100,000,000 YES BILLION POUNDS INTO THE ECONOMY, YIKES!! CAN YOU PRINT SOME FOR ME TOO?? 😁😁😁

pepper sprayed………

WELL I CANNOT FATHOM ANYONE SPECIFIC, MM ANON YOU ARE TOUGH!!! ARE YOU GETTING HELP WITH THE RIDDLES? MAYBE NANNY ANON AND QUOTE ANON ARE PITCHING IN AND INCREASING THE DIFFICULTY OR MAYBE IT IS JUST MY BRAIN 🧠. PEPPER SPRAY IS NOT LEGAL HERE, MANY CARRY BEAR SPRAY. IT , ALONG WITH TEAR GAS, RUBBER BULLETS ETC ARE CONSIDERED NON-LETHAL METHODS LAW ENFORCEMENT CAN IMPLEMENT IN DEALING WITH ROWDY CROWS. THIS HAS BEEN USED EXTENSIVELY DURING THE LAST FEW WEEKS. BUT MM ANON IS REFERRING, I BELIEVE TO ONE SPECIFIC INCIDENT OR PERSON, WHO THAT IS, I CANNOT FIND.

“ O Philip, it’s the last one “……… “Always Downton Abbey old thing”

ALAS A SHORT ONE BUT A GOOD ONE. THEY HAVE FINISHED MY BOARDWALK EMPIRE, YOUR MAJESTY, I DO HOPE YOU ENJOYED THE AUTHENTIC MUSIC AND COSTUMES. HIMSELF SUGGESTS THE EVER ALWAYS WATCHABLE DOWNTON ABBEY. I HAVE THE DVD’S BUT I MUST SAY I WAS VERY DISAPPOINTED IN THE FILM, ESPECIALLY THE END WHERE THERE, TO ME, SADLY WAS A VERY UNNECESSARY PLOT TWIST. REALISTIC MAYBE BUT EMOTIONALLY UNNECESSARY.

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

—————-

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forkanna · 6 years ago

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NOTE: An extra long chapter this time! It just happened to be the next one, but I figured I would post it tonight in celebration of A Very Wicked Halloween (if you missed it I hope you can find it online - Ariana Grande's performance of "The Wizard And I" was incredible)! Enjoy! Also... there might be an extra special something coming to this account on All Hallow's Eve itself. Stay tuned.

"Well, the old Lion seems to have followed Dorothy's lead," Fiyero told Glinda the next morning as they tidied one of the basement rooms. It wasn't quite as far down as the dungeons, but also beneath the "ground floor", and seemed to be primarily storage. A lot of it had already been ransacked, and the remaining junk was old, decrepit and rusted. The pile of salvageable materials was a lot smaller than the pile to be thrown out.

"Thank goodness," Glinda sighed as she moved things. For a moment, she paused to glance at the ruin that had become of her once-soft hands. They were still of a dainty shape, and not altogether hideous, but the nails were jagged and short, and callouses were beginning to form from hard work. A slight flutter went through her stomach when she remembered how Elphaba had commented that they were "a real woman's hands" now; though it sounded like an insult to her Gillikin sensibilities, the tone had told her that Elphaba was praising her for not shrinking from an honest day's work, and any praise from her Elphie made her feel a bit giddy, rare as it seemed to be.

"Now, all we have to worry about is old Boq. No progress?"

"None. He's a stubborn little pinhead! But… I suppose he'll just have to work through his feelings on his own. No spellwork can do that, anyway, but I thought we might find a way to turn him back into a Munchkin."

Waving one of his stuffed hands, Fiyero said, "Don't worry about doing that for me. Oh, I'd love to have my old body back, but to be honest… I think I like being a scarecrow better."

"You do?" she asked in bald surprise.

"I do. No one expects much from you when you're made of straw! And besides, I was such a good-for-nothing Vinkan… sure, I was royalty, but I don't think I'd have made a very strong candidate for king. Even as an honorary title in these modern times."

Tutting, she put down the old wash basin she had been carrying — rusted through the bottom, entirely useless now — and came over to grip his shoulder. "Come now, we both know that isn't true. You and I were a lot alike back then, and… well, I think we've grown up a lot. Haven't we?"

"Maybe so," he sighed with a slight smile. She could have sworn there was a twinkle in his painted eye as he went back to sweeping. "Something's certainly different with you."

"Yes, I look like a drowned rat."

"Not your looks. Your whole demeanor, the way you talk. The way you and Elphaba are around each other."

Her heart skipped over a beat, but she tried not to let on that it had happened. "And which way would you mean, Winkie?" At his frown, she corrected, "Vinkan."

"Thank you." Collecting some of the dust into an old bucket, he said, "We both know which way. And if you won't say it, I will, at least in private. You're smitten."

"I am not!" she hissed urgently, cheeks pinkening. And so easily!

"You are! And so is Elphie, even if she won't admit it. And I don't expect her to, as stubborn as she can be."

"Stubborn as an ox." They were both silent for a long moment, focusing on cleaning and inner thoughts. As Glinda pulled open the old wardrobe she had finally unearthed, she asked softly, "Doesn't it bother you at all? I mean… it's… unusual. Not criminal, but you don't see a lot of…"

"'Bunbury Marriages'?"

That made the flush a little worse. During their trip through Quadling Country, she and Elphaba had made a brief stopover in Bunbury, and Glinda had witnessed firsthand that the reports of its citizens tending not to pair off with members of opposite gender, but instead with those of the same, had not been exaggerated. Somehow, the sight of men walking hand-in-hand with other men had flustered her far more than that of women with women; likely because some of the men were behaving in ways she deemed to be quite feminine, a sight she was not prepared for in the slightest. Luckily, this had been before her own feelings for Elphie began to bubble to the surface, otherwise she might never have been able to stand sleeping in the same bed — which would have been an unnecessary expense in those days of nomadic life for the two of them.

"Oh, you're such a rascal," she dismissed.

"Maybe, but I'm a rascal that sees you turning red as a ruby." When she only let out another noise of pure exasperation, he chuckled and went on, "Hey, did I say that I blame you for it, or judge you? Not at all. I've seen a good many strange things in this land of ours, some of them in my travels with little Dorothy. You and Elphaba wouldn't even be on that list anymore."

Softly, almost impossible for him to hear, she echoed, "Me and Elphaba… together…"

"She's a catch, she is. But I don't have to tell you that."

"And it doesn't bother you? I mean, that I once had designs on you, and now you've been… well, not 'replaced' exactly, but that my designs are redesigned?"

His stuffed shoulders shrugged as he began to shift the pile of junk closer to the door. "My designs had moved from you to her once upon a time, too, so that much I can fully understand. But that was years ago. Now, I'm just happy that you're happy. If you are, that is… but I suspect you are."

"What's she got that I haven't got?" she groused.

"Oh, she was certainly more mature than you were at the time. More serious, and I think the careless idiot I was felt drawn to that sobriety. Someone who was less callow, less shallow. It's probably the same for you, since we were horses of a similar colour."

"High society idiots." They shared a little chuckle, even though Glinda was still flushed to her roots. "Alright, I guess… you're right. Something about how strong she is, and passionate…"

His painted eyebrows waggled. "Passionate, hmm?" She threw the small copper pot she had just unearthed at him, but he laughed and caught it, looking it over. "Hey, we could probably make use of this."

"Good. Add it to the 'keep' pile, you, you…"

"Handsome straw man?"

"Bale of buffoonery!"

As he continued laughing, she returned her focus to the task at hand, shaking her head. Nothing he had said was inaccurate, even down to the bit about him being a handsome straw man; he was certainly the best-looking scarecrow she had ever encountered. As for the rest… by that point, she was ready to accept that Elphaba might truly be her intended. Even if certain girls from other countries might use the word "deviant", it didn't feel like any sort of deviation to her.

It felt like the yellow brick road leading to her destiny.

So full of Elphaba were her thoughts that she almost didn't realise what she had found when she opened the grimy hat box at the bottom of the wardrobe. It was a broad, handsome belt, glittering with jewels. Perhaps it wasn't made of gold or silver, but the metal seemed to be sturdy and highly polished, even after having laid in a box for Ozma knew how long. Her fingertips traced over the ornate etching along its borders, then to the large buckle. Fascinated, she slid it around her own waist and buckled it, then found it didn't feel quite right.

"Buckles in the back," she observed under her breath, undoing it and sliding it around the other way.

"What's that?"

"This belt I found. It's lovely, don't you think?" Now that it was fastened the proper way, she turned to show off the antiquity to him. "Do you know whose it was?"

"Why should I? This castle might belong to my family, but we hardly ever came up here."

"Ah, that's fine."

"It is a nice enough belt, though. Might you be intending it as a gift to a certain tall, comely witch who's caught your eye?"

Fed up with his teasing, gentle though it was, she snapped, "Oh, I wish you would leave me alone! Isn't it bad enough I'm already-"

But that was as far as she got. Her breath was stolen when she suddenly realised that Fiyero had vanished.

"OH!" she burst out, looking frantically around the room. Where had he gone? Her steps echoed as she ran to peek behind the pile of junk, then craned her neck this way and that. "Come back! Fiyero!"

This time, she actually witnessed him popping in out of thin air. There was a puff of some kind of wispy smoke that accompanied his appearance, which had not been there for his disappearance. She took a staggering step backward, and landed on a mouldy old armchair destined to fall to the bottom of the cliffs surrounding Kiamo Ko.

"Glinda!" he gasped, still looking quite dazed. "What are… oh, wonderful. I think I must have just had a hallucination. Curse my straw-filled head!"

"Where did you go? Just now!"

Surprised by the question, it took him a moment or two to answer. "Well… I thought I was here the entire time, and only had some kind of…" Unable to think of what might have befallen him to make him hallucinate, he moved along to answer her question. "I was in the courtyard, or seemed to be. The chickens were very startled to see me appear out of nowhere. It all seemed so real…"

"Maybe…" The notion was ludicrous. But then again, she was standing there, talking to a living scarecrow, with her green-tinted witch and her cured-of-lameness sister a few floors above. Ludicrousness was a common occurrence by now. "Have you been practicing with the Grimmerie?"

"Of course not. That's nothing I've ever been interested in, I…" Looking stricken, he pressed a hand to his stuffed chest. "You don't think my feeble brains are getting feebler, do you?"

Shaking her head, she pushed a hand into her mouth. "Let me think… I was yelling at you to leave me alone, and you did. If I was holding my wand, I might think I cast a spell on accident, but I wasn't. That only leaves…"

As one, they both looked toward the belt.

"Lurline Above," she breathed.

"Maybe… you ought to take it off," he said in a nervous tone. "Before you say you wish I would fall into a fire. Oh, the last thing I want is to catch fire!"

"I'd never think such a thing!" However, she was beginning to realise that she had been thinking of the courtyard when she demanded for him to leave her be. Just a passing thought, somewhere he could go that would be far enough away that she would not be irritated with him any longer. Now, she was beginning to agree that it might be to blame. "Hmm…"

"What is it?"

"I wish…" What else could she wish for? The possibilities were endless! "I wish for a bowl of cherries!"

Nothing. They waited for a good few seconds, but no cherries appeared. "Ah," he sighed. "Well… that's a shame, really."

"It is," she sighed. "Our food problems could have been over. But life isn't kind enough to simply hand you a bowl of cherries, it's not like that. Oh, how about — I wish for a Tik Tok soldier who will do our bidding!" Again, nothing. "Confound this belt, giving me false hope like that!"

"I'll say," he chuckled. "Wishing for soldiers would have made our battle against the Wizard a pretty easy fight."

"You read my mind. Oh… well, if the only good it does is sending scarecrows outside, then it's not much use." Pinching the bridge of her nose to ward off the headache that was just beginning to brew behind her brow, she sighed and told him, "I'm going up to see Elphie, ask her if there's any spell that can tell us whether some old belt is magical or not."

"Hm?" Elphaba asked, looking up from the Grimmerie. "Not that I know of. Why do you think it's magical?"

Glinda stared in shock. "I… you… Elphie, how did you get down here?"

"Down where?" Her green eyes swept up and down the library, at the rich-but-dusty rugs and the heavy oak shelves filled to the brim with books of all kinds. Light streamed in through the few high windows that bordered the top of one wall. "I've been right here since you left me after breakfast. Studying. Sorry I didn't hear you come in, I've just been trying to figure out whether this is a spell to remove warts or to add them. The phrasing is pretty awful."

But Glinda couldn't care about warts just then. She was too busy trying to figure out exactly how she had found herself in the library. Holding up a finger, she shakily bade her, "Just… one moment, I have to be sure. I wish to go and see Nessa!"

This time, with her eyes open, she watched the world change. Everything grew murky and black for a very brief second, and it was the scariest second of her life. Like she was surging through the very essence of evil itself. But it was over so fast that it was easy to see how one could miss it if they blinked.

Then she was in the kitchens. As she did so often lately, Nessa was bent over the stove, working on her food. Normally, she had the same thought every time she saw her there: that the poor girl really didn't know what else to do with herself, since Glinda and Elphaba were the ones with the most power as witches, so she defaulted to these domestic chores.

However, this time she was distracted by Nessa's companion squeaking and dropping a cake of soap to the floor.

"AH!" Dorothy cried, leaning back against the sink where she had been about to start scrubbing pots. "Miss Glinda, where- how did you get in here?"

Turning at last, Nessa only remarked, "Oh, there you are. Finished in the basements already?"

"No, I… well, I think I found something quite interesting." This was going to be a real test, and her fear was beginning to shift to giddy excitement. "Dorothy, Nessie… I'm going to try a spell. If you find yourself someplace new, try not to be frightened!" Then she gripped her belt and said, "Take all three of us to Elphie!"

And it did.

"WHAT?!" Elphaba cried out, falling back from where she had been hunched over the floor onto her behind. If Glinda had to guess, she would say she had been examining the spot where her roommate vanished to see if there was a hole or a trap door there.

"Sakes alive!" Dorothy was breathing, also falling down bonelessly. Nessa merely staggered and leaned heavily against Glinda, as they were now standing quite close together.

"How did… you do that?" Elphaba demanded, slowly rising with a wary eye on her companions. "I haven't come across a spell that can do something like that yet! Were you reading ahead when I wasn't looking?"

Beaming, she rested her hands on her hips as she gazed around at her friends. "Not at all. Just enjoying the benefits of an honest day's cleaning!" Her index finger tapped one of the jewels embedded in the belt's surface. "This little beauty may just be the answer to all of our problems. Or a couple of them, anyway. Wait, hold on — all of us ought to be here. Fiyero?"

An instant later, he was popping into the room, as disoriented as ever. When he fell back onto the floor, the thump was a lot softer than those of Elphaba or Dorothy, the latter of whom made a second thump in shock at him appearing out of thin air.

"You could at least warn a guy!" he snapped.

"Wouldn't know how to if I wanted to. It doesn't come with a messaging service! Now then… I think we have some planning to do."

~ o ~

Late that evening, they were all about as prepared as they might be. Without any miraculous way to cure Boq of his unfortunate attitude, and deciding it was best to leave Chistery and his band of Monkeys behind to guard the keep, they were an invasion force of six: Elphaba, Glinda, Nessarose, Fiyero, the Lion, and a very knock-kneed Dorothy. As often as they tried to reassure her that they would do their best to shield her from harm, they couldn't promise everyone would come through the experience safe and sound. It saddened Glinda, but it was just the reality of their situation. If they didn't make this push to change everything…

She didn't want to think about that. What might happen if they failed. To them, and then the Animals… and then to Oz with no one left to stand in Morrible's way. She was the true threat, even above the Wizard.

"Guess that's everything," Elphaba sighed, checking the straps on her pack. She had fashioned one that would hold the Grimmerie against her back, hidden beneath her cloak once it was in place. And, of course, the black hat was already stuck upon the top of her head.

"Now I'm sorry I even found that belt, Elphie. I'm not ready to be a… an encroacher!"

Fastening the cloak, she turned to look her dead in the eyes. "Nor am I. Even if my skin is suited to blending into the background once we reach the Emerald City."

"You'd have to be completely nude," Glinda teased.

"Oh? And you prefer that plan, do you?"

For a few seconds, Glinda only sputtered while Elphaba favoured her with one of the wolfish smiles that turned her innards to jelly. Then she snapped, "Do you have to do that?! Out-tease me all the time?!"

"Only when it's fun."

"I'll show you fun! I'll give you a big barrel of fun, just you wait!" Her hands came up and curled into fists, miming a fighting pose she had seen once. Poorly. When Elphaba only chuckled at her, she wilted. "Suppose it's my own fault that teasing me like that works, isn't it?"

That prompted Elphaba to look away slightly. "Suppose so. But we can't think about such things right now. Maybe when we get back… if we get back. The others are waiting for us in the courtyard by now, and I don't want to give the Wizard and Morrible any more of a chance to track us down first. The sooner we drop in on them, the better."

She moved toward the door. Something swelled within the pit of Glinda's stomach, and she knew that it would be a mistake to let the moment slip past for any reason.

"Wait," she breathed, latching onto her forearm.

"Yes?" But when she saw the look in Glinda's eyes, she frowned at her. "Come on, we don't have time for sentimentality."

"It's not just sentimentality. It's mentality. It's…"

"Glinda, I know. But this is war. Or it's going to be war if we can't stop it, and we need to try. Or worse… it won't be a war at all. Just a mass destruction of an entire race."

Much though she wanted to argue that the Animals weren't being destroyed, she knew that as far as Elphaba was concerned, taking away their ability to speak and think was an unacceptable loss. So she didn't try. Instead, she focused on what she wanted to say.

"Elphie… when we get back, we're going to discuss this. For real."

"Of course. I…" This sigh was more scared than the ones she had given when they were thinking about confronting the Wizard. "It's been long overdue."

"Can I have another taste-test before we leave? Just…" Her voice grew tight. "Elphie, if we never come back, and I didn't have a chance to tell y-"

No words would have been adequate. Elphaba was truly a woman of action lately, and the action of taking Glinda's lips hard and fast was merely the latest example. She melted into her strong grip, painting her arms over her shoulders as she leaned up into the sweet mouth, eyes closing to the world and all their problems. In ways she could never have thought possible being brought up in Gillikin high society, she belonged to Elphaba. There was no world without her in it.

And it was equally like Elphie to draw back a half-breath too soon, to brokenly whisper, "We'll… finish this discussion… another time."

"We will," she agreed with a fervent nod. Her lips pushed into Elphaba's chin, unwilling to let the moment go entirely, and she could feel the indecision in her roommate's body. Torn between returning the affections, and doing what she felt was most important to do. "Alright… alright, we should go. Shouldn't we?"

"Nobody else is going to do this for us. But…" A ghost of a smile flitted across her lips. "Thank you for being so stubborn. And such a fantastic kisser."

Glinda's cheeks bunched with the force of her own grin. "Bet you say that to all the witches."

~ o ~

Dorothy Gale had never been so frightened in her entire life. And she had been frightened for a good many reasons in the past days. First, for being caught up in a twister, the entire house shaking around her as it sailed through the skies. Then for finding herself in a strange land, surrounded by a queer little folk that she had never dreamed could exist. Furthermore, facing down bears and lions, and kalidahs, and even having a Wizard order her to kill a real live witch! How was a humble farm girl from Kansas supposed to accomplish such things? She wasn't a policeman, or a soldier in the army. She wasn't even one of the big, strong farmhands who could wield a hoe or a rake to drive off a fox from bothering the hens!

But everything had changed. Now her poor, simple head was filled with concepts she never imagined.

"It'll be alright, Dorothy," the scarecrow comforted her, gripping her arm with one hand and patting hers with the other. He had a name, they had told it to her, but she had got so used to calling him Scarecrow that she forgot it often. "You'll see. I… I trust them."

"Well, I don't," the Lion hissed in his shaky tone. A little yip from Toto seemed to be in agreement. "This seems like a bad, baaad idea to me!"

Trying to be reasonable, she whispered, "Hush now. We're… the palace is just up ahead. If we keep jammering on so, we'll be overheard, and then we'll really be in the soup!"

"She's right; we probably ought to get moving. Nobody's going to pick us up in a horse and buggy and take us inside."

Having said so, the scarecrow took a step forward, redoubling his grip on the enchanted broom. The Lion on her other side leaned in closer, and she wound her hand into his mane for both their comfort. Steeled as best they could be, the trio made their way the last few steps along the Emerald City street to the front doors of the Royal Palace, Toto trotting in their wake.

To herself, she whispered, "Just remember what Aunt Em would say: 'we all have to make the best of our lot in life'." Then she rapped on the green-painted wood.

"Yes?" the guard asked. Then he leaned further down through the lookout hole in the door to view Dorothy's glimmering shoes, green mustache bristling as he whistled to see them. "Oh, it's you! Well, now, we've been expecting you for some time!"

"Thank you," she said, her curtsy somewhat awkward due to her unwillingness to let go of her two companions. "Might we go on up to see the Wizard, if it please you?"

"You may, indeed." In a quieter voice, he added, "Though I hope for your sakes that you've got good news; the Wizard is fairly easy to please, but that new press secretary of his…" Instead of elaborating, he merely pulled a face before pulling wide the door.

On the other side, she was relieved to see Jellia Jamb waiting to escort her. At least there was a familiar face. The young page bowed stiffly, then motioned for Dorothy to follow.

"Jellia? Or shall I call you Miss Jamb?"

"Call me whatever you like," Jellia said as she walked briskly, nose buried in a small notebook full of little notes. Her tone was neither unkind nor overly affectionate; a professional. She reminded Dorothy of the woman who worked at the general store in town.

"Right, y-yes. Well… I wanted to ask… do you like working for the Wizard?"

Withdrawing a pencil from behind her ear that had been hiding within her green hair, she answered, "Doesn't matter one way or the other. It's my job."

"Oh, and of course it is — and of course you do a fine job, you really do! Only… well, don't you have any opinion as to if you like doing it? Is the Wizard a nice man to work for?"

For a time, they walked on in silence. She exchanged a glance with the scarecrow; maybe Jellia was so pressed for time that she had no time to answer such trivial questions. But around the time they were ascending a great staircase, she did respond after all.

"This job was… simpler before he took on the new press secretary."

"Oh?"

"Yes. And that is all I feel comfortable stating. Now, if you need for me to fetch you a new dress before you see His Wizliness, or to have a bath drawn, or some cakes sent up, I can handle those duties just fine. But I can't give you any deeper opinions, Miss Gale." Her eyes seemed very vaguely sad as she glanced over her shoulder, but the look was so quick that she could have been mistaken.

"Oh. Well, that's alright. Thank you just the same." Glancing down at her knees, at the clean-but-ragged dress she had been given within the Emerald City in the first place, she sighed and forced herself to say, "N-no, I would like to see the Wizard right away. He'll understand."

And even if he didn't…

Soon thereafter, Jellia let Dorothy into the great hall that was so like the one in Kiamo Ko, except grander, and still fitted with rich finery and jewels. On the throne sat the great head, but she tried to remember what she had been told. It kept her from turning tail on the spot.

"I AM OZ! THE GREAT AND POWERFUl! WHO ENTERS HERE?"

"It is I, Dorothy! The small and meek! Your… remember me? You sent me to try and kill the Witch of the West?"

"YES! AND HAVE YOU DONE THIS?"

Perhaps the largest obstacle to this plan was that Dorothy hated to lie. Not only that, but she found herself so afraid of the consequences of being found out for lying, for hurting anyone in such a way, that she couldn't bring herself to do it easily. But there were always ways around obstacles if one knew where to look for them.

"Well, I did what you said!" It was true: she had thrown water upon Elphaba. Mopping the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand as best she could, she went on in a carrying voice, "And… and you said that I ought to bring back something of hers?"

Her round head nodded toward her companion, braids bobbing. The scarecrow stepped forward and held the broom out with both hands. Only a moment passed before Jellia hopped to attention, bringing the broom from his hands to lay before the Wizard's great head.

"VERY GOOD. NOW YOU MUST GO AND LEAVE ME BE. YOUR SERVICE HAS BEEN NOTED!"

After only a brief pause of surprise, she started forward. "B-but wait! You were to… I thought you said you'd help me get home if I did what you asked! It isn't decent to break a promise!"

"PROMISES WERE MEANT TO BE BROKEN! BUT FEAR NOT, CHILD — RETURN TOMORROW AND YOUR WISH MIGHT BE GRANTED!"

Unfortunately for the Wizard, "might" was not "definitely," and Dorothy was not satisfied. However, she had not expected to be; this was all for effect. The entire time they had been conversing, her eyes were darting from side to side, and she was leaning slightly to help afford her a better view of the back of the head itself. Only now that she had been bade return on the next day did she finally spot what she was looking for.

"But I want help going home now! Or else… I'll have to talk to the real you!"

"I DO NOT KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN!" This time, even though the voice thundered and seemed to shake the very foundation of the Palace itself, it did seem the slightest bit less confident.

Dorothy motioned for the Lion to stay put, on alert, and began to creep forward. When Jellia's eyebrows shot upward, she raised an index finger to her lips; it was a silly thing to do, for she expected the servant would still shout for the guards, or at least warn her to step back. However, Jellia actually did as she was requested, and straightened her back, staying silent but watching with wary eyes. She had a feeling that if she produced a sword and attacked, the girl might spring for her, but as long as she continued not to be a threat she would treat the guest as precisely that: a guest.

"Well… I mean… this!"

When Dorothy threw the curtain aside, she had been expecting to see a fiendish man, a devil out of the illustrations in Sunday School. Instead, here was a small, wrinkled old man with very sparse white hair and spectacles, his suit handsome but also rumpled from his stature. Fascinated as she was by that sight, and her own disbelief that it was true, she was very slightly distracted by the sight that had so captured the Wizard's attentions that he couldn't even focus on the matter at hand.

A woman who looked more angelic than mortal twirled within a glittering diamond cage. Hair like waves of gold cascaded down her shoulders and along her back, skin glinting like a lighter hue of bronze, and her eyes were closed in a bliss that Dorothy likened to tasting the first spoonful of fresh jam her Aunt Em had canned herself. The vision's dress seemed to be spun from the air itself, or else spiderwebs, and even changed colours when they caught the light. As she twisted and flowed from one pose to another, elegant, trim arms weaving symbols in the air that seemed only to fade after the hands had moved along, legs nearly a blur, she could swear the entirety of girl and her robes turned translucent, and she could see to the other side — but then she would be solid again, and Dorothy wondered if she had imagined everything.

It was the dancing woman who noticed first; the Wizard was too enraptured by her display to have eyes for anything else. A breathy "oh!" escaped from her when she spotted Dorothy standing there, agape. A half-moment later, the dazed old man whirled.

"OH!" he repeated. "What are- that is, YOU DARE-"

The last had been spoken into a device like the broad end of an ear trumpet, and came booming out of the great head behind Dorothy, but he seemed to realise with a start that it would do no good to attempt deception any longer. Frowning in annoyance, he dropped back from the horn and the surrounding levers and cranks that reminded her of the inside of a train engine, nearly bumping against the near side of the large diamond cage.

"So it's true!" she breathed in disbelief. Even up until that point, she had been uncertain, in the same way children always want to believe in the deities of their parents because they've been told for so long that they are real. "You really are a humbug!"

"Now, now," he attempted with both hands raised. "Let's not be hasty. And how dare you throw around such accusations!"

"But you are, you old fraud! Oh, how silly I feel — this is nothing but a… a big puppet!" Her hand reached up and thwacked the cheek of the head, and it made a hollow thunk that definitely didn't make her think it was alive. "And ordering me to go and kill the witches! How could you?"

Frowning yet deeper, he went on, "Alright, alright! So you've found me out. How can you blame me? The Ozians want theatrics and magic, and I'm only good at the former, so… the latter had to be feigned to keep up appearances! Don't you see?"

"But you're so…" This was scarecrow, who was too shocked by what he saw to hold his tongue. Especially since he technically didn't own a tongue anymore. "I mean, that's Oz!" His finger levelled at the girl in the cage. "At least, that's how he appeared to me when I asked for my brains!"

The accused was most definitely afraid of these reactions, shrinking even further to the back of the cage. In a calming voice, her jailor said, "Shhh, it's alright! Oh, don't frighten her so; Polly really is a sweet girl. I invited her to play my part once in awhile, to switch things up. Isn't she something? Oh, I could watch her dance all day… an old man can get lonely cooped up in a big palace such as this, you know."

"You have her locked in a cage," Dorothy countered.

"So? I can't have her running away all the time; no, no, that wouldn't do. Though I do let her out during cloudless days, when I can be sure she won't get far if she tries to escape. Really, it's not so bad, is it?"

"It is! You can't just keep young women in cages, that's an awful thing to do!"

His pout was more that of a child than of a cunning old man who had become the Supreme Ruler of an entire nation. "But… well, she can't be allowed to escape now. She's seen too much, knows too much! The best I can do for her is provide a nice, comfortable bed in her cage."

Looking back and forth, Dorothy said, "But there isn't any bed. And besides, it's the keeping her locked up part that's unkind!"

At this, Jellia appeared at their sides and pulled a secret lever. The floor beneath "Polly" changed, rolling over until a fairly large and comfortable bed was now revealed in one corner of the cage. Its occupant approached, hesitant but hopeful, glancing back at the Wizard as if to silently ask if it was alright.

"Go on, my dear. You've done more than enough for today."

"Can't she talk?" the Lion asked, as if too surprised that a woman couldn't where he could.

"She could, once upon a time. But the hex Morrible placed on the cage when she captured her…" The telling of this seemed to pain him, and he looked away. "Oh, but it would be nice to have someone to chat with again…"

Dorothy was through listening to his excuses. "And you let her do these things! Really, a man of your age ought to know better! She ought to be let go, and you've been doing Heaven-knows-what to her, and… oh, how shameful! My Uncle Henry would send for the sheriff!"

Her scolding did seem to be having an effect on the man, and his cheeks warmed. But he finally reached his end and stood a little straighter. "Now, just you listen here! Seems to me you're insinuating something that isn't true, and I'll put that to rest forthwith! I haven't harmed so much as a hair on Polychrome's head, much less anything more unseemly, and I'll thank you not to throw around such accusations!"

"Accusations like what? Keeping prisoners? Because she is — that's a cage if I've ever seen one! Like she's a parakeet!"

"Begging your pardon, Wizliness," the scarecrow went on in a softer tone, "I, um… I don't think she's saying what you think she's saying. Little Dorothy isn't the sort to think about such matters."

She hadn't been thinking of anything besides Polly's well-being and freedom, it was true. Her straw-headed friend had been very protective of her innocence, up to and including the incident in which Tin Man had been telling her scandalous things about Elphaba and Glinda. They had nearly fallen to fisticuffs over the matter.

"Oh?" At that information, the Wizard seemed to notice afresh that Dorothy was a younger girl, and wasn't quite looking at him with the level of disgust he had been expecting. "Oh. Well… alright, we can leave that lie. I might be a humbug, but not a cad." Then he cleared his throat. "Now then, to business. You seem to have unearthed a little secret that I really would prefer didn't reach the ears of the rest of the Emerald City. You've done me a great service in ridding me of the serious challenge to my power, and for that, I'm quite grateful. Might we still hold to the original deal?"

"Just a moment," she warned him, holding up a finger. "Let's you and I talk about that. Can you explain to us why you're being so mean to the poor Animals, like my good friend, the Cowardly Lion?"

The Lion merely hung his head a little lower at that description. Not that it was undeserved; Dorothy meant no disrespect, other than to point out the fact in the hopes he would continue to be more brave to combat such a label.

"Now, now, that's an internal matter," he tried to warn her with a genial smile. "Nothing for a pretty girl like you to worry her pretty head over."

"And if you're such a keen Ruler, you can tell a pretty girl like me all about it. Even in a way I might understand." This might have sounded sarcastic to the Wizard, for he bristled slightly, but Dorothy meant it in earnest; she knew next to nothing except how a farm is run, and a handful of other things. Still, she felt as if she were entitled to that much of an explanation.

And it was making the Wizard uncomfortable. They had caught him red-handed, and he had no choice but to capitulate. "Very well. You see, where we come f- that is, er… oh, but they are Animals, aren't they? Lions eat little girls! So it only makes sense to me that we tame and domesticate them, not let them go around teaching at universities! It's just preposterous!"

"But Dr. Dillamond was a fine teacher," the scarecrow volunteered. When they turned to him with surprise, he went on blithely, "Or so I've heard. So you can't say he was going around bleating and kicking the students, because it simply isn't true. Not a student who's ever been in his class would say so."

"I agree that having Lions walking and talking isn't something I'm used to," Dorothy said. "Or having them around at all, not in Kansas! Not unless the circus is in town! But, well… it seems to me if they talk and think and can be civil, then they ought to be allowed to, oughtn't they?"

"My dear, my dear, come now. As I said, I'm the Wizard, and the current ruling head of the Land of Oz. I brought unity to these four countries where there was only division when I arrived! No more squabbling with the Quadlings, no more trade embargos with the hinky Winkies… what I'm doing, I'm doing for the good of these fine people! So might I be given the benefit of a doubt when it comes to this, as well?"

Even before he finished, Dorothy was shaking her head. It frightened her to be disagreeing with an authority figure of any sort, but this one had already proven himself to be a charlatan and a swindler, and had attempted to trick her into murdering a group of highly-slandered "witches". Her aunt and uncle had always encouraged her to do what was right in the eyes of the Lord, and even though no one in Oz seemed to have heard of that particular Lord, that didn't mean she could turn her back on her convictions purely because she was abroad.

"I'm sorry," she told him earnestly, taking a step back. "But… I'm afraid… I don't think you're fit to be the President here, Sir Wizard. Not if you're going to tell Lion he can't talk anymore, or… or send me to hurt three perfectly lovely ladies who only w-want to help the Animals! Especially if you might have k-killed an innocent little baby! You're a very bad man!"

At the last condemnation, his brow furrowed. He was about to ask her what she meant by that, but Dorothy was already springing into action. Completely mortified by the idea as she was, she whipped the hem of her dress up to reveal a pair of culottes that had been hidden underneath; probably had belonged to some long-dead resident of Kiamo Ko. Around the waist of said culottes lay a wide, shining belt, glittering with jewels. Luckily, he was at least chivalrous enough to avert his eyes when she did this, but that chivalry would prove to be his undoing.

"Bring the witches to me!" she announced firmly as her hands closed around the belt. And in a blink and a puff of smoke, it did that very thing.

To Be Continued…

#The Coven Of Oz #forkanna writes #wicked fanfiction #gelphie #forkanna the writer

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vaebaee · 7 years ago

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gEt 2 knOw ya 🅱️oI vAE !1!!1 🤠🤡🤙🏼😜

omg i did this last night at a party and like sorry have fun reading ittt im so sorryyy

tagged by: @dust-bubbles luhh u fam <33

tagging: uhhh im really bad at tagging so if u read this i tag u ;)

da rules: answer thirty questions and tag ten people (fuq dat shit)

nickname(s): vae, vaevae, v, cray cray vae vae (rip grade 7) , vayo the mayo, uncle mayonnaise,,red socks (sportsss and student athlete shiT) gender: female (pronounced like tamale tho) sign: virGHoe lol height: uhh i was 174centipedes (cm) last time i checked time: 1:34am favorite bands + solo artists: i listen to it alll like shiiitt i aint discrimin8 but country can evapor8, but i got the whole Wiggles discography on my phne so they my faveesss song stuck in my head: allstar by smashmouth but like mixed with the drop from roll in peaceee :) shh secret: i have a sherk shrine lol last movie i watched: uhhh im currently wastching smurfs at a partaYYy so yaa i think this counts last show i watched: extreme animal obsessions iss lit my d00ds when did i create this blog: january 4th 201888 ! what do i post: edits lol rippp what did i last google: teletubbies wiki,,, i had to prove that Tinky Winky is 10ft tall other blogs: @atticusfinchtkamb [[it was for an english project but its liiiittt nad like one post got 300+ notes and like over 50 folwowerz i think like y ?? but im chil lwit it lol ]]

do i get asks: sumtimes ya but i always 4get to answer them :’/ why did i choose this url: i just used one of my nicknamesss and it rhymes so ayeeee (pls support me when i become a soundcloud rapper) following: 224 followers: 231 iss over 200 now im so zhook like holy sihit ilysfm !11!! average hours of sleep: ah my sleep schedule is w a c k but like ill pull all nighters for like 3-4 days in a row cuz i cant sleeppp until i pass out then ill usually sleep for like 10+ hours str8 issa really bad cycle help lol is this my cry 4 help lucky number: 13 :P instrument: uhh trumpet lmao ayeee + a recorder and kazoo 4 damemez what am i wearing: ooo we gon 4 the whole look™,, k so we got sum mix match sockzz, leggings (basic oof), uh a flaNNel/tnak toop , this glittery tiny hat (THaT eVRy 1 kEEPS tryInf 2 STEAL)) , and my clout gogglesss obvs,, look heres a shitteey pIc of my outfeet kinda! i look so pale oomf ;( dream job: forensic pathologist !! or one of those fbi ppl who watches webcams favorite food: uh i like mostly everything but i h8 breakfast food (except for lucky charms) and i like anything rice basedddd cuz it can be seasoned and combiNed in like a bazillion wayzzz but lucky charms r my fave hands down yes last book i read: my social teextboookkk?? but a legit book would be either perfume or great expectations (which i h8 do nOT recOmmENd) three favorite fandoms: ahhh i dont know i cant think of any rn so uHh the 🅱️roblox onE ??

hoyl shit yallst this was so wild oh em gee!! 🤡🤠 uwu uwu

#personal #this Is SO muCH fuN #pls as k me mroeabout me lol #narcissism lol #get to know me #!!!!!!!!!1 #lol k im legit rereading thru this right now and i wud make it better and more proFessIOnal but oh welllzzz #hope yall enjoy #i had to add in all the links lateerrr cuz when i was doing this i was on mobile so ya oof #but ya yall finally get t o see what i look like (more like half my face but oh well)#if yall want i got suM selfies so i can expose my face that way too ha

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jennaschererwrites · 7 years ago

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Clowns, Cults and Trump: Why New 'American Horror Story' Is a Missed Opportunity - Rolling Stone

There's nothing subtle about the historical moment we're living through. A man with no impulse control and a vicious disdain of anyone/anything who does not resemble him has ascended to the highest office in the land. Americans are wearing their political proclivities and hatreds on their sleeve (sometimes literally, often swastikas). It's a dumb, ugly, blunt time to be alive, and to it has come an often dumb, ugly, blunt TV show. It is called American Horror Story: Cult. And it's a major missed opportunity.

Unlike previous iterations Ryan Murphy and Brad Falchuck's anthology horror series, which rely on tweaked horror tropes in lieu of tackling contemporary issues head-on, the seventh season of AHS stridently and purposefully locates itself in an America reeling from the recent Presidential election; it isn't just the setting but also the substance of the horror. In its attempt to parody and comment upon the fear, cruelty and paranoia of Trump's America, however, it instead becomes an artifact of it. The show is reductive where it should be incisive, dull where it should be sharp, turning liberals and alt-righters alike into equally repulsive monsters – "on both sides," as someone once sneered.

AHS all-stars Sarah Paulson and Evan Peters feature as two Michiganites on opposite ends of the political spectrum: Ally Mayfair-Richards is a left-wing lesbian restaurateur with a loving nuclear family and a host of anxieties; Kai Anderson is a wild-eyed alt-right loner with a literal hard-on for other people's rage and fear. The show's first four episodes set the two on a collision course, starting the night of the 2016 election and spinning out from there like the aftermath of a 10-car pileup.

But here's the thing about these two, in addition to every other character on the show – they're not people. They're cartoons. And while the show's usual modus operandi is to go big and go broad, it's a bit of a death blow to anything resembling a satirical impulse. "What was wrong with CNN for not giving us a trigger warning before they announced the results?" Ally moans improbably into the arms of her long-suffering wife Ivy (Alison Pill), whose only character trait is that she is long-suffering. Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Kai jubilates, "Fuck you, world! U.S.A.! U.S.A.!" while dry-humping his television screen. Later, Ally will chew out her son for giving his pet guinea pig a cisgender name and feel deeply tortured about Jill Stein, while Kai will rub a slurry of ground Cheetos on his face and lob a condom full of urine at Latino workers. Nuance, thy name is not Ryan Murphy.

There are no human beings here – only walking, talking sound bites, straw men lifted from poorly researched headlines. "The proudest moment of my life when was Lena Dunham retweeted me," one character blurts out in a job interview, apropos of nothing. (Speaking of which, the Girls creator is slated to make a cameo later this season.) "I got almost 6,000 followers from that. Just not enough to elect the first woman president." In another scene, two "angry liberal" women tie up a would-be Trump voter in a basement on election night so that he can't cast his ballot. "People like you don't matter anymore," one of them spits, becoming the leftist bogeyman that right-wingers fear but who doesn't actually have a real-world counterpart.

And this being AHS, fear can't just be a feeling; it also has to take a shape – so cue a roving band of murder clowns sporting rubber masks and bloody knives. It's an easy phobia button to push, as well as a current boogeyman du jour and a callback to autumn 2016's bizarre series of creepy clown sightings along the East Coast, which felt like a symptom of the undiagnosed madness sweeping the country pre-election. A year down the line, however, those perma-grinned lurkers seem almost quaint in comparison to the very real monsters who have come out of the woodwork since. Clowns are scary. IRL Nazis are scarier.

Which brings us to the overall problem of attempting to make a TV series that limns the present moment: By the time it comes out, it's already the past. Cult feels like a show that was simultaneously made too soon and too late, poking at fresh wounds while also picking at old scabs. The free-floating anxiety that many Americans felt in the days after November 8th, 2016, is no longer free-floating, as embodied in Cult by Ally and her host of phobias; it has located itself in daily horrors like white-supremacist rallies, nuclear saber-rattling and the stripping of immigrant and minority rights. Kai may be an unhinged megalomaniac, but he perversely seems more reasonable than the 71-year-old manchild with his finger on the big red button.

Let's talk about Kai for a second. He's a classic genre villain in the vein of the Joker, with his thirst for power blended with charisma, intelligence and psychopathy. (And to Peters' credit, he totally sells it.) But as the metaphorical figure Murphy and Falchuck seem to want him to be, he's pretty muddled. "There is nothing more dangerous in the world than a humiliated man," he declares early on, a signal that he's a stand-in for Trump's red-meat supporters who felt disenfranchised by an increasingly diverse and progressive world seemingly leaving them behind. Yet the first people he recruits to his side are a Hillary Clinton supporter (Billie Lourd), a frustrated gay man (Billy Eichner) and an African-American news anchor (Adina Porter). Please call us if you ever see a real-world right-wing mob this diverse.

Perhaps the most insidious thing about Cult's sadistic parody of current politics is who it excludes. This is a show, by, for and about white people – and white people only. With the exception of Porter, the show's few minority characters are used as murder victims and/or punch lines to the show's mean jokes. When a Latino character is shot and killed, his death is parlayed into a winky parody of the Black Lives Matter movement. As for the consequences, Cult treats him less as a person than as a symbol that the show's white protagonists can feel or not feel a way about.

Maybe some people get a kick out of slumming in this fictional nasty world, in which every person – regardless of what side of the political fence they're on – always gives into their worst and basest instincts. But for the rest of us, it's a misaimed kick in the gut when we're already down on the ground, winded from the real gut punches of the latest headlines. In Trump's inauguration speech, the newly sworn-in president spoke of us living in an age of "American carnage." His grim diagnosis of our society rang false for many Americans, but perhaps not to the AHS creators. The country is sick, yes, but not in the way Trump – or Cult – seems to believe it is.

#ahs #ahs cult #cult #american horror story #american horror story cult #american horror story: cult #jenna scherer #rolling stone #trumpism #tv #television #tv review #ryan murphy #brad falchuck #politics #horror #clowns #evan peters #sarah paulson

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12-little-roosters · 8 years ago

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The Eleven Little Roosters Episode 6 Summary + Haywood Files 26 -30

Tats here with another update!

WARNING! SPOILERS BELOW!

This was such a good episode. From Gavin sleeping with both CAL and CIA and Blaine being all Blaine in the scene, I think it is cementing that Gavin may be the mole in my mind.

Im glad this episode tied up a lot of theories out there too. Like Chris being TLR Chris, and Geoff being our Geoff from AH.

And fucking. Mr. Hardwood. I love it.

On with the files!

Haywood Files #26

So at the start of the episode we see a bunch of memorial photos of those gone. In each picture is a hidden digit and if you put those digits in the order they died in ELR you get the first code, 2 f 9 P l (little L) Q T

So here we have that two organizations are being taken out this week, and that one of them is the homeland of a famous Ryan. The Top-Grossing Ryan of the year at that. Looking back, the top most grossing film with a Ryan in it is Deadpool with Ryan Reynalds from the lovely, most magnificent country, the True North! Canada! That means that CAL is a target (rip T_T)

Also being a huge comic book nerd, I’ve taken note that Deadpool is very much a Marvel character.

Link to the File

Haywood File #27

This file comes from our scene with Geoff. If you look at the poster in the background, you can blurry see a Vegemite formula.

This formula is 2f9 + Radium + g + Hydrogen. If you’re a science nerd like me (not really needing to be a nerd tbh) the chemical symbols for radium and hydrogen are Ra and H. Therefor the code for this is 2 f 9 R a g H.

In this file shows us a secret cypher, that any ones (1) are actually a lower case l (L). Winky face. Also i have no clue what that big rectangle means, anyone have ideas?

Link to File

Haywood File # 28

So we get to see the most beautiful face again in this episode, and by that I mean Ryan. You may have noticed though, there being a lot of static in this. That is where you will find this next file! (keep in mind the cypher though!)

The final code is therefor 2 e w j a t l (lower L). Remember, 1 means lowercase L.

So in this file, it actually links us to the next two, 29 and 30.

The file codes we just look at the bolded digits. The first one is 2(to) f 9(nine) r f F G. The second is 2(too) f 6(six) u i R d.

Link to File

Haywood File #29

See File 28 to get this code. 2 f 9 r f F G.

In this file, we see that another top grossing movie is marking the next target, and in the same universe as the first. Reynalds as Deadpool is Marvel. There were quite a few top grossing, but in Marvel, we get Captain America, which bleeds into the next file, 30...

Link to File

Haywood File #30

See File 28 to get this code. 2 f 6 u i R d.

...In this one. So the title hints at the victim and killer, and uses the punch line “Divided We Fall”. This is Captain America : Civil War. America, fighting against each other/itself.

Link to File

In conclusion? CIA (more than likely Blaine) is the Assassin, killing two targets CAL and CIA (Ashley).

I asked Josh if the order of who you put in matters and it does not, so you can have First Target CIA Second Target CAL or vice versa!

♥ Tats

#Eleven Little Roosters #ELR #11LR #11 Little Roosters #summary

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steviehaich · 7 years ago

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I have returned. With news.

“What are you doing here?” my imaginary blogging community ask. Well, with cap in hand and tail between my legs I’d like to post a blog, for I have some news. BIG NEWS.

This is an ultrasound image of something Shelley and I have made. She will be incubating it within herself for approximately seven and a half more months as it’s seven weeks old. And It really is an ‘It’ because at its current size of 9.7mm the genitalia is far too microscopic to indicate It’s sex (Cue”just like it’s Dad” joke). Either that or the sex organs simply haven’t formed yet and I understand that the latter is a more accurate hypothesis.

We’ve been trying officially since the honeymoon in November (more on that later) so after eight months was beginning to worry that perhaps I didn’t have the weetabix to conceive – I’d even gone to the docs who made me a hospital appointment for jizz examination. While the appeal of a knocking one out into a tub in an unfamiliar setting was growing on me I was glad to have avoided the result-anxiety by receiving the good news the old fashioned way.

Shell had performed her precautionary monthly pregnancy test on the morning of Monday 19th June. Now, I didn’t know she took these precautionary tests, but I did know she used what we call ‘piss sticks’ (classy) to determine whether or not she was ovulating – this led to some confusion. In the haste of the morning rush Shell had left the test on the side of the bath and got dressed for work. Needless to say she forgot it was there and rushed out the door to catch her lift to work. I was off work due to the loss of my Uncle Ken on the weekend and got up a little later. I used the loo and spotted the plastic conception contraption loitering on the side, but being bleary eyed I dismissed any hygiene concerns and simply ignored it. Later that night I lay in bed reading while Shell brushed her teeth, then I hear,

“Steve, have you seen this?” “What?” I enquired. “The pregnancy test on the bath?” “Oh yeah, I saw it this morning actually.”

Shell enters the bedroom holding it by its slender neck. “Did you not think to look at it?” “No, I thought it was a just piss stick”

She then held the urine tainted stick up to my eyes, “Look.” There was a feint dark line running horizontally across the the small grey window.

“What does this mean?’ I asked, although I had an idea. “Well this is saying I’m pregnant.” “Wow…woah, no. Surely not. Has that been there all day?” “That’s what it says. It’s been there all day though so maybe the heat (we were in the middle of a heat wave) could have effected it? It is feint.” I agreed. The line was barely visible and we’d been trying for so long that I’d pretty much accepted my impotence. We shook it off and settled into bed vocally dismissing the result. Although I definitely went to sleep thinking, this could be it.

The next day Shell acquired another pregnancy test (from a handy stash I was unaware of) and I stood with her while she did the business, just to make sure there was no jiggery-pokery going on. We both stood looking at it holding it to the light. A minute passed – nothing.

“Nope, see.” Shell shrugged, handed me the stick and turned to wash her hands. “Ah man.” I sighed and held it closer to my face. “There is a little something there, I think.” Shell turned to look at it again. “It’s just the way you’re holding it to the light.” “No way, that’s getting darker.” The pregnancy indicator line I mean. “hmmmmm?” “Shell, that IS a line.” Shell took a step back. “I’m pregnant.” “You’re fucking pregnant!” We looked at each other, eyes stained with excitement and fear. Then my heart took over – I took Shells face in my hands, planted a smackeroo on her lips and began dancing. I hopped down the stairs and jigged up and down the front room singing “We’re pregnant, we’re pregnant!”. With a huge daunted grin on her face Shell told me not to get too excited, it was stupidly early day and anything could happen. My brother and sister-in-law were in the last stages of their pregnancy and had had an extremely rough ride, it had taken them three times to get this far so I was more than aware of how fragile that teeny little life was. But I thought ‘Sod it! This means we CAN have babies. My winky works! For now it’s just a matter of time.’

This is the second pregnancy test placed beautifully on top of one of our favourite wedding photos.

So, we paid to have an early scan. For £60 it seemed ridiculous not put our minds to rest – we just needed evidence that there was actually something in there. So on Saturday morning we headed to the imaging centre, a name which paints the picture of a plush photo studio not a room full of computer screens and leg stirrups (to be honest it was a nice little place, very private and it was just a bed – no stirrups). We had no reason to think there was anything wrong so right up until the moment we went in for the scan I was excited. But then I began shitting myself. I realised I’d be heartbroken if it wasn’t to be. Shell laid down and I pulled up a seat next to her. I took her hand and squeezed it so tightly she screamed. I was told to calm down before the process began.

We watched the screen in front and my heart sank. ‘There’s nothing there,’ I thought.

‘Yup, all looks fine,’ says the nurse with such flippancy I laughed. ‘Really? How?’

Nothing on that screen resembled anything like any other baby scan I’d ever seen, which is quite a few as of late. Then the nurse pointed to a little black orb and closed in on it’s teeny tiny heartbeat. I was made up. Then she played the audio of its heartbeat and it completely blew my mind. My legs went to jelly. It’s real. YES! IT’S FUCKING REAL! Shelley watched the screen like a do-eyed Cheshire cat as I asked question after question, mainly, ‘What’s that then?’ Followed by, ‘So what’s that then?’.

The bubba was just 9.7mm long and is due between 1st-3rd March 2018. Holy smokes. The second we left the building we looked at the pictures and jumped for joy. Granted, not much to see but that was ours, it IS ours – part of me and part of my wife in one heartbeat. We dutifully called our parents with the smashing news and treated ourselves to lunch in West Malling.

Ooh and here’s a fun fact about West Malling, turns out that in 1967 The Beatles began filming their movie Magical Mystery Tour in what is now a vacated kebab shop. It was was the icing on the cake.

I just want to clarify that I realise it’s still very early days (we’ve not even had the 12 week scan yet for Gods sake!) and obviously I’m nervous but I in all honesty just want to enjoy this moment. If this is the one, then I want It’s life from the very first moment. Positivity is key I tells ya!

Finally, and I don’t know how Shell will feel about me putting this out in to a public forum (although currently nobody reads this) but, we have worked out the conception date. Great huh? Now I know there’s no such thing as too much information so I’ll let you in the details. It’s highly likely to have occurred during and unusual and somewhat risky outdoor soirée that took place in the Kentish countryside – like a soldier on leave in the summer of 42′ having a fumble with a dishy Doris amongst the hay bales then sharing a post-cohetal cigarette. Be it with added anxiety, sweltering heat and nettles! It must of been that clean country that gave my little wrigglers a spring in their step. That egg was getting fertilised whether it liked it or not!

Time for a quick catch up

Right then, now let me quickly fill you in on what’s been going on this last year. Ok so, this time last year I was 10 days away from marrying my gorgeous wife Shelley. I had survived an awesome stag do arranged by my best man and brother Micky (we have the tattoos to prove it) and would be finalising plans for the big day – from table plans and table decor to speeches and payments.

The wedding day was monumental, the best day of my life and it went off without a hitch – with the exception of the ice cream man not turning up! We didn’t care though, the weather was perfect, Shell looked stunning (us boys looked pretty good too) the service was gorgeous and the barn looked better than anyone could have imagined. The food, the speeches, the band, the entertainment, the guests, the cars, everyone who helped…it was all just PERFECT. It was a celebration to end all celebrations, and we felt it in the morning. Clearing up was not a fun task and if I’m honest I was pretty useless. Thank God we had a mini moon to Menorca booked for the next day. That week abroad couldn’t have been more needed. Exploring a new area of Menorca as husband and wife felt great and we discovered some great places for next time – we drank, ate, chilled and spent frivolously. Coming back to reality hit me pretty hard. Harder than I ever actually imagined. I got depressed and anxious.

So, then we booked the REAL honeymoon – 3 weeks travelling across South Africa in November. We done it in style too. Cape Town, Robben Island, plush vineyards, whale spotting (humpbacks don’t ya know!) shark diving (yes, we got face to face with numerous great whites!), garden route, cave diving, Safari (what didn’t we see!), hospital in Durban thanks to food poisoning (although the food everywhere was awesome) and finishing with leatherback turtle spotting in the most luxurious resort I’ve ever seen let alone stay at. It was a trip of a lifetime and we can’t put into words how amazing it was. We felt free, it was so vast and ever changing and we had not a care in the world. We obviously plan to go back because there’s so much to see and do but I suppose, in reality it might never happen. Like I mentioned earlier, it was in South Africa that we officially began trying for a baby, although back then we cared less about ovulation times and stuff – if we got lucky, we got lucky.

I worried (makes a change) that returning from SA would hit me even harder than after the wedding but to be honest I was fine, it was just weeks until Christmas, work was going well and I just felt stupidly grateful for everything. And I still bloody do.

While all this was going on it was revealed that my bro and my sis-in-law were expecting. We, the whole family were obviously ecstatic but didn’t want to get too carried away as they’d gone through the torment of losing two previously in the early stages. We were all sickeningly upset but they’d been left completely heartbroken. Lauren was even pregnant at our wedding, they had an early scan which looked really positive but lost it just a week later while we were on our mini moon. It’s such a wake up call to how fragile life is at those early stages and how much love you can throw at it. Anyhow, that’s in the past and this pregnancy has run it’s course, oh and guess what? IT’S TWINS although it’s hasn’t been plain sailing for them. The two boys have caused their mum and dad (and all of us obviously) no end of worry – first, the bigger one was was taking all the nutrients resulting with Lauren needing a quite dangerous corrective procedure. Then, just weeks later all hell broke loose with the smaller having a bleed on the brain and Lauren needing another corrective procedure and blood transfusion which this time was very risky. For weeks it was touch and go and we all prepared ourselves for the worst. I was scared to answer my phone for such a long time. If my mum called me my heart sank and I’d try gauge by her tone what was coming. But thank god, the weeks past and the boys got stronger and stronger. Their due date was pushed back further and further, to 37 weeks! A miracle.

So on Thursday 29th June 2017 I became an Uncle. I’M A BLEEDING UNCLE!!! An uncle to two gorgeous little boys, Harry and George Holbrook. It was all a bit unexpected. After a procedural scan they kept Lauren over night and said it was on! We all went mad with excitement and about 24 hours later they were born. It’s genuinely mental, seeing the love those little boys have created but they aren’t out of the woods yet. They were born at 32 weeks And put straight into incubators, there’s been good days and bad days but they’re getting stronger by the day. Only mum and dad have had the honour of touching them and giving them a cuddle but they should be home before the end of the month – that’s when fun uncle Steve kicks into action. My bro and Lauren have been like rocks throughout, Lozza just incredible and, as his brother I’m so insanely proud of how Mick has dealt with it all. He’s an inspiration to me as a new dad and a husband – I just hope I’d be as strong he’s been. But please God let us have a smoother ride than they’ve had. The fun begins now for them, they’ll soon have two little rotters ruling the roost.

The magic moment

Harry

George

Lastly, some fucking shit news. My Uncle Ken died of lung cancer on Sat 17th June. He was something of a hero to me and it was all pretty sudden. We had a family get together on 30th March and he was fine and dandy, was a great day. Fast forward to Sat April 29th; We went round their house for brunch to say farewell to my cousin and her fella Jak as they were leaving for a long awaited trip away, travelling the world for 4 months. Ken was sick as a dog, thin and breathless. He’d been diagnosed with lung disease COPD and pneumonia, was on antibiotics and sure that he would get better. COPD is obviously a serious disease but not the death sentence that cancer can be..and was. Jo and Jak left on the Monday. My aunt took them to the airport and on her return found Ken blue and gasping for breath. He was rushed to hospital and it went downhill from there. After about a week it became clear just how serious it was, he needed a very risky op to put stents into his lungs. Up until then no one had told Jo and Jak , Kens choice as he didn’t want to ruin their trip for something he could beat but now they had to know. They flew back from Tokyo fearing Ken might be dead when they arrive. Luckily the op was a success and he improved greatly over the next few weeks. He also became strong enough for the docs to properly establish the extent of his condition, he hadn’t even been diagnosed as having cancer at this point – although it was apparently obvious. He was finally diagnosed with Jo and my aunts Sue finding out through a disgusting admin error. With his condition changing daily he spent the rest of his life in Barts hospital looked after by a superb team. After a short period of radiation treatment it became clear there was nothing that could be done. He was put into palliative care on the Tuesday and died on the Saturday evening. I was going to visit on the Sat morning but he’s lost consciousness in the early hours. I visited his a couple of times in hospital and he was full of spirit both times, cracking jokes and telling stories although weak and struggling for breath. I’ve never seen anything like it. I have so much to thank my uncle for and he left the world with dignity. My aunt, cousin and her now fiancée Jak (he proposed while Ken was in hospital, he’s a great bloke and bought some joy during a mental time) are doing as well as can be expected and I’ll do my best to be there if ever they need me. I gave a reading at the funeral and they send off was fantastically personal and messy – a celebration Ken would be proud of. Click the link at the bottom to read my reading.

So yes, the last few months have been a roller coaster and a half. Sadness and joy doing combat, but I’m assured that joy will always prevail. Hey, we found out Shell was pregnant just 2 days after Ken died, did he give us a helping hand? I’ll always wonder. I’ll do my best to make him/her an Arsenal fan in his honour, just wonder what my West Brom wife will have to say about it.

I’m an Uncle and as things stand going to be a Dad. Fuck, I’m turning into an adult.

For Ken

I have returned. With news. "What are you doing here?" my imaginary blogging community ask. Well, with cap in hand and tail between my legs I'd like to post a blog, for I have some news.

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