#HogsHead

[cherry-pop-elf]

S.P.E.W For Werewolves

Abigail Grey x Reader

Can be read as platonic

Ever since the HogsHead became a safe heaven for Abigail’s pack, she’s been busy with trying to help make the place more liveable and better for them. Along with bringing awareness to werewolves as well. As if you would refuse to help her!

Warnings: Werewolfphobia, Renka, disabilities, medical issues, small acts of violence

“Oh! Hey-!” Abigail would adjust her ever present scarf, as to make her words more audible. “I was looking for you. I don’t mean to bother, but do you think you can help me with something?” She asked you, with another fiddle to her scarf.

“Course, what’s up?” You asked, as you looked her over. She seemed to have her messenger bag stuffed with papers, and one was in hand even. Said paper was quick to be handed to you, as if it would explain it all.

The paper itself looked to be an advertisement of sorts. A means to ask the public to donate old books, clothes, what have you, to the likes of The Hogs Head In. A donation to the ‘local pack’ if you will.

“Werewolfism can affect anyone, of any age, as you are well aware of. Not a lot of my pack went to schooling of any kind. Would be nice for them to learn to read and write. More than just their name, ya know?” Abigail explain to you, as you kept looking over the flyer. Such a noble cost it was. How could you refuse?

“Where to first?” You asked her. The way her eyes lit up just had you beaming. It was a noble cause, after all. It’s also her family. Who could say no to family? Well, family you love anyway. As if anyone wanted to dive into that complicated mess.

Onwards you two went. Going through out the halls, and into classrooms that permitted you both to enter. A adventure of simple nature. Hanging up flyers on the hallways, talking to fellow friends to hang them up in their designated hang out spots when they weren’t all busy with whatever adventure the year brought them. Asking teachers if they would be ok with hanging them up. Noble cause. It was all going well. To well, and you both knew it would change. Change, it did.

“Donating to the HogsHead-? For one, why would a student need to donate anything. Second off, why such a place as that?” She scoffed, and that scoff was what you two knew so well. Cassandra.

“Because, not everyone gets an education like us. A lot of witches and wizards can’t read.” Abigail was quick to say, with a spin on her feet. Silvery eyes meeting those hypnotic emerald.

“Sounds like a them problem-“ The blonde scoffed, making Abigail bubble. She took a deep breath, before being more direct with her. Helped that you held her hand, so she could have support.

“Yeah, it’s them who are the issue. Not the fact they were cursed, and can’t do anything about it. Do you know what it’s like to not be seen as human, because of how you were born? How you’ll never be seen as equal, all because your blood isn’t ‘pure’ and is ‘tampered’ with. That you just will never be seen as anything more than inhuman?” Abigail asked, and….Cassandra paused.

You never seen Cassandra think so hard before. Her eyes avoiding both of you. Why was Cassandra not smarting off at you both? Why isn’t she scoffing, and calling you both some insult? What was she thinking?

“…..I’ll talk to Colby about this. He’s the poetry writer. I’m sure he has some old books he has no use for.” And she turned, with a snap of her dress, and left. You two were jaw dropped at the kind gesture. The hell? Cassandra? Kind?

“What was that about?” You whispered, as the two of you begun to head outside. A plan to hang them up around Hogsmeade. “Beats me. Maybe she has inhuman blood in her family as well. Maybe like Veela. Would explain how she seems to escape getting suspended, with all the crap she pulls.” Maybe. Maybe….

You tried not to stress over it, and instead focused on carrying all the flyers for your friend. Letting her skip in-front of you, with such pep in her step. So excited to make that old tavern way more friendly, and enjoyable. She was just so excited, she hardly could hear you call her name. The moment it dawned on her you called her, she crashed into the worse person to bump into. Renka.

Abigail would give a squeak, and was quick to run back to you. She’s no scardy cat, but Renka is the exception. Especially when it dawned on her who had crashed into her pink coat. Had her out right cast a cleaning charm on herself, as if Abigail would infect her. That had you glare, and the woman glared back.

“And what are you two doing here? Shouldn’t you be in that useless school, learning useless things?” She scoffed, as you would hold the flyers closer to your chest. Renka was quick to notice this, however, and was quick to Accio them away from you.

“GIVE THOSE BACK-!” Abigail shouted, throwing her fear aside. For her Pack. “Those are ours!” She added, as she tried to grab one of the papers, only for it to fly higher. Made her slip on the ice, and fall on her butt.

“Let’s see what you two gremlins are doing-“ She huffed, as she adjusted her glasses to read the paper. Meanwhile, you helped Abigail up. Dusting off the snow, and giving her respect and dignity.

“You are trying to scam people! Of course you two would! Trying to scam people out of what they rightfully earned, so you freaks can get a meal ticket!” She gasped, as that had Abigail pink in her face.

“None of that-“ You two gasped, as the papers were now engulfed in flames. “NO-!” Abigail shouted, as she tried to grab said paper. You tried to stop her, but her cry of pain said you were too late. She now held a burn on her hand, and stumbled back. You swore Renka smirked.

“Rabblehauser-! That’s enough-!” The three of you would look over, and see a sight. One being Mr. Weasley, with an older man. Worse for wears, that’s for sure. With a face that was scary to you, but nothing abnormal to Abigail. With his cheek missing, exposing teeth. Scars that cut into his brilliant red hair line, and an eye clearly blinded. The attire made it clear he was a curse breaker. Leather vest, white dress shirt, and a cloak over his shoulders. Fur edging for warmth. Quite the classy attire, compared to Mr. Weasley’s G sweater.

“Deal with her, I’ve got the kids-“ Mr. Weasley said, as he hurried over to you two. “Come here love, let me have a look at your paw-“ He tried to joke, to get her to smile through her tears. Of course, it worked. She smiled, you calmed down, and he worked on applying a palm to her burnt flesh. Something of his own invention, given it smells so sweet.

“Renka, you can’t just keep doing this-!” The curse breaker would shout at her, as he would steal one of the posters from the air. The moment his working eye fell on it, he gasped. Made his scars stretch out even farther. Made your stomach twist.

You had no idea what he said, but it was in a string or another language. One you didn’t know. Seemed Mr. Weasley did, as he snorted. Saying something about how ‘that must have been where Ginny got her potty mouth from-‘ or something.

“Thats Billy. He works at a little ole bank, called Gringotts-“ He explained, before Abigail was soon in his arms. Comforting her, as he would hold your hand as well. Her on his hip, and you close to his side. Comforting you both, while Bill and Renka were screaming at each other.

“He’s normally super calm, but he’s sensitive when it comes to werewolf stuff. That’s the face of someone who was attacked by Greyback. Because of his curse breaking skills, he didn’t get entirely infected. He still has side effects, but he doesn’t transform or infect.” He explained, as that had both of you light up. He was kinda like Abigail, but was still living a successful happy life. Hope. That was hope.

“I’ll bite you-!” Bill warned, and that had Renka run. Let her own stupidity chase her away. The man would shake his head, as he looked so exhausted. Seems it’s not the first time those two fought. With a brush of his cloak, he would return to his brother.

“Everyone ok?” He asked, as you just couldn’t stop staring. You wondered so many questions. How does he eat? How does he still have teeth? Is he actually blind? What happened?

“My posters….” Abigail sniffled, which caused Mr. Weasley to kiss her head. Comforting her. That’s when Bill offered his own arms, and Abigail was handed over. The moment she was handed over, it was like a switch. She seemed to instantly calm, and nuzzled his neck. The bond of wolves.

“Hey, don’t worry. I’ll talk to my pal, Ragnok at Gringotts. See if he can pull any strings on trying to help out the HogsHead. I know Georgie will, by seeing on making wolfsbane to supply the tavern.” That had you both gasp. You were confused. You were told goblins were greedy monsters. Was that a lie? A stereotype?

“They’ll listen to him. Billy is pretty much their kid there. Just a bunch of old men, and their favorite grandkid.” Mr. Weasley laughed, as Abigail had stars in her eyes. There was hope. So much hope for the future.

“Just leave it to us. Now, let’s get you two back to Hogwarts. Hm?” Mr. William said, as you two nodded. That was enough adventure for one day. Even for the likes of Hogwarts kids.

Through a secret passage way, that Mr. Weasley knew, you two were back in the castle walls. Sent away with a few sweets to calm the burns, and show your good deeds deserved compensation.

“He’s like me-!” Abigail couldn’t stop bouncing, as she bit at her Bloodlollipop. “He’s like me-!” Was her chant, as she bounced. He was just like her, and that had you smile.

There was hope for her, and her pack. People who actually cared about them, and wanted them to succeed. To be equal, and have as much of a life as they did. Help did exist, and not everyone thought like Renka. There were people who were even like Abigail, and could still live fulfilling lives.

The future looked bright, and damn. You wanted to keep seeing Abigail smile.

[roughridingrednecks]

Hogshead

[paisleyphotographs]

Paisley Road Fully Re-Opens After Accident

A Paisley road was temporarily closed earlier tonight to allow recovery after an accident on the A761. The accident happened between Fulbar Road and Millarston Drive just outside the Hogshead off sales when a 2019 white Audi A1 ended up on its roof outside the off sales. No further details are available at the moment.

[apicelladonna]

I was aiming to create grindeldore saints but surprisingly I may complete my set of the dumbledore siblings as saints first-

[oldschoolfrp]

The premiere issue of Arcane "The Roleplaying Magazine" (December 1995) included this preview of FRUP - an "almost-ready" RPG by Hogshead Publishing's founder James Wallis "due in February '96." The game was set in a satirical fantasy world that somehow received copies of the AD&D rulebooks (or a legally distinct equivalent), revered them as holy texts, and built a society around them governed by "rules lawyers" with a culture of murdering monsters for their experience points. "FRUP" is their attempt to pronounce FRP, the old term for fantasy roleplaying games that preceded RPG.

The cover art shown is by Les Edwards, with interior art by Lee Brimmicombe-Wood and Ralph Horsley. I can't find any additional information about FRUP online. It seems it never was released in any form, a casualty of Hogshead's financial troubles around this time.

[elsewhereuniversity]

A note on notebook paper clearly ripped from a legal pad. The writing is in an elegant, loopy cursive, written in midnight blue ink that shimmers slightly when it catches the light. A few letters are smudged or scratched out, evidence of the writer's haste.

Hey, to the person who was asking for Good Neighbors to help with a phone-scrambling experiment, do you need the phones afterwards? If not, would you be willing to make a trade for them? We can offer a hogshead of silver nitrate, one almost-new smartphone with only minor issues, or six Jimothy teeth repurposed and enchanted for use as prophetic dice (in a variety of shapes. They can also be used for D&D, but they WILL roll the most narratively appropriate numbers so be warned). Other deals can be arranged as needed if none of those suit you, of course, that's just what I can think of off the top of my head.

If any of this is amenable, meet us behind the computer lab at the next new moon.

Fondly,

The Council of Heralds

[bumblebeeappletree]

Permaculture instructor Andrew Millison journeys to New York City to film the epic work of Smiling Hogshead Ranch in Queens. We tour the community garden which was built on an old toxic railroad bed WITHOUT PERMISSION! Guided by The President of the Permaculture Institute of North America Monica Ibacache and a founding member of the garden, Gil Lopez, we see the incredible transformation of this toxic wasteland over the last 12 years. You've got to see this to believe it!

PERMACULTURE DESIGN COURSE LINK:

https://workspace.oregonstate.edu/cou...

Smiling Hogshead Ranch: https://smilinghogsheadranch.org/

Monica Ibacache's Beyond Organic Design:

http://www.beyondorganicdesign.org/

Gil Lopez: https://lnk.bio/gil_lopez

Andrew Millison’s links:

https://www.andrewmillison.com/

https://permaculturedesign.oregonstat...

JOIN THIS CHANNEL to get access to uncut video content and live Q & A sessions:

/ @amillison

SIGN UP FOR MY FREE NEWSLETTER:

https://share.hsforms.com/1X79TznHYRC...

[boldlygoingtohell]

But doctor how was I supposed to know that eating glitter and rhinestones to give my tummy worms a disco party wasn’t a good idea?

[psalm22-6]

This is an excerpt from Fifty Years Among Authors, Books and Publishers (1884) by James C. Derby, who worked with George W. Carleton, the first (to my knowledge) publisher of Les Misérables in the United States. 

The next successful venture was Victor Hugo's “Les Miserables,” and although we were in the midst of the Civil War, the book made a great hit. It was brought out with the same expedition as were Michelet's books, one volume at a time. The sale was not large at first, but the newspaper critics soon made it popular. Carleton spent ten thousand dollars in specially advertising it. He soon felt the effects of his enterprise in the extraordinary demand for hundreds of thousands of volumes. At the book trade-sale of George A. Leavitt & Co., one wholesale dealer purchased twenty-five thousand copies, — the largest sale, it is believed, ever made at auction of any one book. 

In this connection a curious incident occurred. The immense popularity of “Les Miserables” had attracted the attention of a Cuban, who called upon Mr. Carleton one day and proposed to purchase an edition of the work if rendered into the Spanish language, the books to be shipped to Havana. The Cuban proposed to pay part of the cost in advance and the remainder on the delivery of the books. Carleton fulfilled his part of the contract, when the Cuban directed that the books should be sent downtown, where he desired them packed in hogsheads [a cask for holding wine]. This extraordinary proposition aroused Mr. Carleton's suspicions. He at once demanded the balance of the money due or return of portion of stock. The latter request was more than fulfilled. One can imagine Mr. Carleton’s surprise when the drayman brought to his store sixteen hogsheads! He had them stored, expecting daily to hear from the Cuban, who did not put in an appearance, however. The hogsheads were then opened one after another, when it was found that Victor Hugo’s novel was the inside layer in each hogshead, which was, at each end, packed with glass lamp-chimneys! Thus, Mr. Carleton became an involuntary glassware merchant, spending a good deal of his time in selling lamp-chimneys. He realized, however, enough from them to remunerate him for the cost of the books.  

The Cuban, who Mr. Carleton says, was a fierce, piratical looking customer, was never again heard of. It is supposed that this enterprising Spanish merchant took this method of smuggling the books into Havana, because the importation of Victor Hugo's works had been interdicted by the Spanish government. 

[nice-bright-colors]

London Porter, because I’m too far west to find a decent Baltic Porter. Plus all the really good Scotch Ales are on tap only around here.

All from what used to be a gas station in the 50’s. Sadly the only food they have are Tombstone frozen pizzas. However, they are open 365 days a year. Only 11 miles away.

They also currently have ‘Downtown Julie’, a brown ale on cask. Sadly they only can (2) of their beers from keg. No cask ale to go.

[bourbontrend]

Discover the ultimate tasting experience with Claxton's Strathclyde 28 year old Oloroso Hogshead Review. Dive into intricate aromas and flavors that make this whisky a standout. Whether a seasoned enthusiast or a curious newbie, this U.S. exclusive release is a must-try. Read more to find out why it’s the best grain whisky from Scotland this year!

[blindmanspuff]

Powstanie Announces Corona Gorda Habano and Broadleaf Exclusive for Hogshead Cigar Lounge - Cigar News

Powstanie Announces Corona Gorda Habano and Broadleaf Exclusive for Hogshead Cigar Lounge - #Cigar News @CigarHustler #cigars

Powstanie has announced the Corona Gorda Habano and Broadleaf as an exclusive for Hogshead Cigar Lounge. The new sizes will be abailble starting May 19th. To celebrate the release, Owner Mike Szczepankiewicz of Powstanie as well as A Cigar Hustlers Podcast team, including @cigarhustler_bdp and @cigarhustler_industry, will be in attendance to meet with customers and share their expertise. Orders…

[thewhiskyphiles]

SMWS 65.5 Old School Speyside

SMWS 65.5 Old School Speyside single malt scotch whisky review #SMWS #Imperial

Imperial 21 Years Old 1995 65.5 Old School Speyside 1. What they say The nose is classic old-school Speyside – ripe mango, apples, pears, pineapple and flowers with custard Danish and syrup sponge sweetness – but fresh too – paint, Imperial Leather soap and crystallized ginger. The palate combines intense flavours of juicy pear and sherbet straws; then canvas, leather and oak tingle the…

[bagerfluff]

Love and Limps

Harry Potter x Slytherin Male Reader

Prompt - "Why did you help me?"

Harry cursed himself as he limped towards the hospital wing. Harry had accidentally fallen during quidditch practice and now had to limp his way to the hospital wing. It hurt but Harry was able to push through it. For about half of the journey.

Now that he had been walking with his limp for ten minutes it was starting to hurt. “Bloody hell” Harry whispered as he leaned against the wall. “You okay Potter?” Harry looked up at the voice to see Y/n standing a few feet away from him. 

Harry sighed as he looked away from Y/n. Y/n L/n the king of slytherin. Harry didn’t feel like getting teased, so he said he was fine and started to walk, or limp, away. But when he was a few feet away, he tripped.

Harry closed his eyes as he waited to hit the floor but he didn’t. Harry looked up to see that Y/n had caught him. “So you're fine?” Y/n asked with a small smile on his face. Harry looked back down at the floor as he blushed. Why did Y/n have to look so good?

Y/n shifted Harry so he was standing up but once Y/n realized that Harry could really stand he picked Harry up. Bridal style. Harry blushed as he wrapped his hands around Y/n’s neck. Harry tried to get down but Y/n just said “just trust me Potter”.

Harry stopped moving after that. Harry thought as Y/n carried him to the hospital wing. Why was Y/n helping him? Y/n was a Slytherin. Slytherins hate Gryffindor's. But when Harry thought about it Y/n never really did anything mean.

He mostly kept to himself. He didn’t join Umbridge. And Harry heard that he refused to torture the first years, Y/n even helped during the war. Maybe Harry was wrong about Slytherin's. The more Harry thought about it, the more he realized that only Malfoy and his goons were mean.

Every other Slytherin was fine, nice even. Harry realized that he was wrong, along with everyone else. Harry wondered how many first year Slytherin's were hated because of what people in the past did.

Harry was so caught up in these thoughts that he didn’t realize that Y/n had placed him on a bed. “Again Potter” Madam Pomfrey said before she left to get a potion for Harry’s leg. Harry expected for Y/n to leave but he stayed.

He was sitting in the chair next to Harry’s bed. “Why did you help me?” Harry asked as he looked over to Y/n. Y/n looked up from the floor and looked at Harry with a face of confusion. “Because you needed help” Y/n answered. 

“But why?” Harry asked again. Y/n smirked as he got up from the chair. Y/n then leaned closer to Harry to whisper in his ear. “Because I like you Potter”. Harry blushed as Y/n leaned away from his ear and walked out of the hospital wing.

Once Madam Pomfrey came back with the potion Harry was still blushing. “Here Potter” Pomfrey said and Harry drank the potion. Harry then walked out of the hospital wing but when he got back to the dorms he realized that something was in his pocket.

Harry pulled it out and realized that it was a piece of parchment. Harry unfolded it and blushed when he read it. 

Sunday, 10:30, Hogshead. See you there, Potter

Harry smiled once he realized who it was from. Harry entered the dorms with a smile. Already thinking about what he was going to wear. 

[holdmymallowsweet]

MC can be so unhinged (and also a cheeky brat) at times and I love it.

MC: So you want me to retrieve your friend’s heirloom watch?

Edgar Adley: Merlin, no, you’re a STUDENT, I want you to stay away from the big spider that ate my friend’s face

MC: ‘Retrieve friend’s heirloom from face eating spider’, got it

MC: I went through all this trouble to get Ferdinand’s portrait back but now he’s really annoying and ungrateful, so in the Hogshead he goes

Ferdinand’s portrait in the Hogshead being used for target practice

MC pats themself on the back as they leave

Professor Fig: Alohomora is a useful spell, remind me to teach you

MC breaks into people’s houses at night to steal magic monkey statues for the alcoholic caretaker instead

MC, polyjuiced as Professor Black: really, what’s with the new fifth year, they never seem to be at school

Last but not least:

MC to Fastidio: I respect and understand your desire to terrorise my customers and will allow you to do so after nine o’ clock

MC to Penny: So I’ve been thinking, let’s close the shop at nine

[zacshian]

@rosekillermicrofic | Word count:~250 | 3 June | Prompt- wicked

The dormitory was tired and muted after a long and stretched day. Evan pulled open his robe and climbed onto his bed in a sharp move after spending the whole evening in detention. Barty could sketch out the tension in the bed next to his.

He slipped down and tip toed to Evan's bed and slowly lifted a loose length of the cloth shutter.

Evan was laid down with a pillow beneath his head and a pillow over his mouth that was pressed so hardly, as if the purpose was to suffocate.

Barty pulled the pillow from his face, with much strength. Evan looked at him with annoyed eyes. "What do you think you are doing?"

"Was the detention that terrible?", Barty slouched over the bed sheet.

Evan replied a muffled "No."

Barty nodded softly. He knew that the days were going hard for Evan. The day before, he got into a fight with a Ravenclaw at Hogshead. That guy made a serious note on his sister. If Barty would have been there, he might have done the same thing; make the Ravenclaw boy bleed his gums out. But Evan had to take detention as a consequence.

"What are you doing here, on my bed?", Evan asked. The hint of irritation clear in his voice.

"Well, I can't sleep", Barty lied with a doll face. But he wondered whether Evan himself could sleep. He crept closer to the Rosier boy and somehow, he could feel the anxiousness sedating.

"Count sheeps", Evan suggested as he scrunched up his face inocently.

Barty shook his head, "I do not see them. I only see you."

Evan sighed, "Then count my hair." He pressed his head against the pillow, shutting his eyes with a suppressed huff.

"Already counted", Barty moved closer to the pressed silhouette.

"How many?", Evan breathed, his voice clouding with either sleep or cold.

"Zero", Barty said, skating his fingers through Evan's bleached hair.

Evan peeped open an eye, "Are you insulting me, Mister?"

"Yes", Barty whispered. He could smell the scent of Evan as he drew himself closer to the tall torso.

"That is so wicked", Evan gestured a slight punch. Then he smiled. And when he breathed, they both inhaled together simultaneously, like a single soul, like the two flapping wings of a bird.

"So am I", Barty wrapped his hands around the well marked thorax of the laid man, then he pressed his lips against Evan's yester- bruised rough and red lips.

Evan suddenly felt an invisible energy melting the cold and igniting the heat in him.