#goth home dec

[demolitionrats]

the thing abt goths (and emos) is they'll just sit in the most inconvenient random places

[kydrogendragon]

Dec 21 - The Best Present

(Ao3 Link) (Masterpost Link)

Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Murder, and Blood.

When Hob awoke that next morning, nothing had seemed different. It seemed like a perfectly ordinary Monday morning that he wouldn’t have blinked twice at. You know, if it wasn’t for a mysterious woman sitting on his kitchen counter, slowly picking away at one of the apples in his fruit basket.

He jumps, reaching for the closest object he could use as a weapon - the table side lamp in this case - and brandishes it with a confidence that only someone who had fought for most of his five hundred years of life could. The woman doesn’t even blink. She wears all black, a simple black tee, black jeans, and a pair of high-heeled black boots. It reminds him a bit of the getups the goths he’d take home with him would wear. Most interesting of all, she wears a pendant of a large silver ankh around her neck.

She looks at him with kind brown eyes and smiles. “Hello Hob.” And if everything else hadn’t gotten his attention, that statement did. He lifts the lamp higher, angling his legs for better stability and glances around the room, trying to spot how the hell she managed to sneak in.

“Haven’t heard that name in a while,” he says, eyes narrowing. “Who are you? What do you want?”

The woman shakes her head, amused, as she slides off the counter. She sets down the half eaten apple and wipes her hands on her pants. “I have a favor to ask of you.”

“A favor?”

She hums. “Yes. And it wasn’t until last night that I could ask it.”

Hob shakes his head. “The hell are you talking about?”

The woman steps forward and Hob’s grip on the lamp tightens. “One more step and you’ll regret it.” She smiles and takes a single step forward. As she does, Hob goes to lunge but stops as he meets her gaze.

Ice rushes through his veins as the very core of him recognizes her for what she is. She is the face he has seen in battlefields and hospitals. She is the voice that has called to him while he rests in the in-between of life and death. She is the sound of wings when one is near the end.

She is Death.

His knees give out and he falls to the floor, the lamp drops from his grip and the bulb inside shatters. “No. No no no no no, please no, please!” He pleads. “I’m not ready yet. I don’t want to die. I won’t, I won’t!”

Death kneels beside him and stretches out a hand. He flinches, eyeing it carefully. “I’m not here to take you, Hob. Not unless you want me to.”

“Never,” he replies, staring into her gaze. She nods.

“Good. I think my brother would hate me if I did.”

At that, Hob blinks. “Brother?”

Death hums and lets her hand fall. She crosses them, resting them atop her bent knees as she talks. “Yes. That’s why I’m here. I need you to help free him.”

Hob shifts, pulling himself into a cross legged position. “Why me?”

She looks up and sighs. “Because I can’t. Where he is is somewhere that I can’t go. Not completely. But you can.” She looks back at him and grins. “Besides, technically he asked for you.”

A sinking feeling fills Hob’s gut. Flickers of memories of a dream echo in his mind. The pale face of his Stranger. His tears, his silent pleas. His throat is tight when he asks, “Your brother, who is he?”

“Your stranger.”

The snow falls on the ground outside of Fawney Rig. It’s Christmas Eve in 1991 and Hob stands in front of the car’s boot as he goes over his tools of trade. A crowbar rests on one side, sandwiched by rope, an axe, a shotgun and two different handguns along with enough ammo to light the place up if needed. He’s got a variety of clothes and food and water in case his Stranger needed it along with a well supplied first aid kit. When Death had told him where to find her brother, she hadn’t exactly told him what to expect. He’s honestly unsure if she knew, other than he was trapped.

Christ, wasn’t that a thought? His Stranger, trapped. Held prisoner by a total jackass that, most annoyingly, he’d met before. Just once when he was a lad. His father had been leagues worse, but had at least hosted a party for his departed son. Hob had fought with Randal in the war. After digging into the Burgess's more, he’d found that the old man had bragged about capturing Death. Clearly that hadn’t worked, but it seems like he had caught something. And when the old man finally passed, it seemed like his son wasn’t any better. Pity. The boy seemed like he could have had a good heart in him. Nature versus Nurture, he supposed.

Hob pulls the mask down his face and zips up his jacket. He sticks the two handguns with freshly loaded mags into his holsters. He slots the extra mags into his belt and then swings the shotgun across his back. Not the most efficient weapon for this job, but might come in handy. The rest, he figures he can always come out and grab later if needed. There wouldn’t be anyone left alive in here after he was done anyways.

Closing the lid, he climbs back into the driver’s seat and revs up the engine. The metal gates in front looked thicker than they actually were. He’d checked ahead of time. They were made to look nice but not necessarily be effective at keeping someone out. For instance, ramming through them with a car would be pretty easy. Which is what he planned to do.

Back the car up a good distance on the curly driveway, he holds the gas and brake down, letting his wheels spin before he releases the brake. The car lunges forward, gaining speed rapidly. With a crash, the gates are flung open by the sturdy metal body of the vehicle. Hob powers up the remaining driveway to the front of the house. He skids to a stop right at the front of the manor and bounces out of the car.

A guard is posted outside and jolts awake from his chair. He reaches for his gun but is too slow. Hob quickly draws his right side handgun and pops the man twice. The silencer muffles the sound of the shot as the bullets hit him straight in the chest. Blood pools through the dark uniform. He falls to the ground.

Hob dashes up the stairs and pats the man down. He was hoping for keys or a radio perhaps of which he finds both. There aren’t many keys on the ring, but he takes them anyways. One most likely opens the front door after all. He slots the radio onto his belt and proceeds to go through the keys until one clicks the door open.

The house is quiet. It is late at night after all and all the house staff should be gone at this hour. Hob wasn’t a complete monster. He doubts that the maids and cooks were onto any of the occult proceedings here and if they were, well. Hob has ways of tracking people down if he needs to.

He creeps forward, gun poised and ready as he rounds the corners. The main floor is relatively empty. There was a single guard that had been wandering the halls. Hob takes him out from behind and guides his body to the ground as to not make a sound. There’s a different key on this guard’s key ring. It’s thick and sturdy. More importantly, it looks old. He takes it.

Hob finds a sturdy metal door down the next hallway - probably where the guard had come from in the first place - and tests the handle. Locked, unsurprisingly. He holds up the newly acquired key and smiles. Yes, that’ll work. As tempted as he is to barge down there and free his friend immediately, he knows he needs to eliminate anyone else first so they can escape without worry. Pocketing the key once more, he continues his search through the house.

The second floor provides even less interest. No guards and no Alexander or Paul either. The third floor, however, that’s a different tale.

Hob pops the guard stationed outside of the bedroom. The man had been sleeping in the chair just outside. For all the wealth that Burgess had, it seems like it was wasted on paying these men.

He nudges the bedroom door open and is met with the sleeping figures of the elderly men who had kept his friend captive all these years. Rage burns within him as it has for the past six months since Death first dropped by. He’d gone off of the limited information she had and slowly pieced together a harrowing puzzle of his friend’s absence. 1916 brought with it the sleepy sickness. 1916 brought Burgess into fame and fortune as his claims of the Devil in his Basement were spread, mostly with doubt. In 1916 his friend was forcibly ripped from whatever reality he resides in and has been kept in this dusty old manor ever since. And it was all because of the men here and his father before him.

Hob feels no guilt nor sadness when he draws his other gun, a revolver he’s favored for many years, and presses the cool barrel against Alexander’s forehead. The man stirs and Hob pulls back the lever with a click. His eyes open wide and he shakes as he takes in Hob’s looming figure. Alexander opens his mouth to speak but Hob just shakes his head. The other man’s jaw clamps shut.

“There is no bargaining. There is no begging. You’re going to die tonight and I’m going to tell you why. Then, I’m going to kill your husband in his sleep because while he wasn’t directly related to all of this, he was complacent, so I’ll give him the same courtesy I did the guards. Once that’s done, I’m dragging you out of your bed and into the damn basement that you’re holding my friend captive. You will scream and cry and plead like the pathetic excuse for a man I know you are while I slit your throat in front of him and the last thing you’ll see will be the greatest mistake of your miserable little life.”

Unsurprisingly, Alexander screams. The figure beside his shifts and Hob lifts the barrel of his gun up and fires it straight into the other man’s skull. The movement stills.

Hob holsters his gun and pulls the frail man from his bed by his hair as he continues to scream. He drags his body across the floor and out of the room. He drags him through the growing pool of blood from the guard stationed outside of their room and chucks him down the stairs just for the fun of it. Hob clambers down the stairs as Alexander cries and tries in vain to pull himself across the floor away from his own personal reaper. Reaching down, he grabs a fistful of the man’s nightgown and continues their trek to the basement.

The key fits like a glove and Hob pulls open the ancient heavy door. Alexander pleads with him, begging Hob to stop this, that he doesn’t know what he’s doing or what he’s freeing. He’s wrong, of course. Hob knows exactly who he’s freeing. He’s freeing his friend, even if the other man didn’t want to admit it.

The basement is cold. Much colder than the rest of the house and upon entering the windowless room, he’s pretty sure a part of that has to do with the bloody pools of water that surround...

Jesus wept... Hob wishes he could revive everyone just so he could kill them again. His Stranger sits in a damn ball of glass, suspended over the floor and worst of all, they’ve striped him down bare. There are metal spikes inside the fucking thing too so the poor sod can’t even lie down if he wanted. A flood of rage hits him again like a hammer. He barely processes his actions as he shoots the two guards to their right dead. He barely hears Alexanders screams and cries. Adrenaline courses through him as he approaches his friend.

His Stranger stands, hunched over because of course the damn thing is too short for him to even stand fully. His hands are pressed against the glass and his eyes are open wide. He mouths his name as a single tear falls down his face.

Hob jerks Alexander’s body forward, pushing him into a kneeling position, holding the man’s weak body up by his hair. He reaches down and pulls out the blade in his boot and presses it against the man’s neck, all the while, staring up at his friend.

“You made a mistake, Burgess. Your father made a grave one many years ago but he’s dead and unfortunately, I can’t kill a dead guy, much as I’d like to. But you didn’t do a damn thing. So now, I get to kill you.” Hob says, pressing the blade a bit harder. The skin underneath begins to break. Not enough to kill the man. It’s closer to that of a shaving cut, but it makes the man beneath him struggle against his hold.

“Please! Please, I beg of you, don’t do this! I didn’t want this!” Alexander pleads. “Please, I wanted to let him go, I did! I just wanted to be sure he wouldn’t come after me and Paul. Oh God, oh Paul.”

His Stranger’s eyes burn into him, those bright blue eyes seem to be lit from within as he watches intensely.

“But you didn’t let him go, did you? You didn’t do anything. You just left him here to rot. And you would have continued to do so until you died, wouldn’t you?” Hob’s voice is cold as steel as he tugs on the man’s hair.

“Oh God, no, please. I swear I never wanted any of this! This is all my father!”

“No. No these past few decades have all been you. You can’t blame your sins on a dead man. Not anymore. So now you’ll pay the price for trapping my friend down here like a goddamn curiosity display.”

“Please no! Plea-” The man’s cries are drowned out by the gurgling of blood as Hob swiftly slices through the man’s neck.

“A gift,” he says, staring up at his friend. “For you.” Hob tosses the man’s body off to the side. Blood pools up, spilling over his chest from the wound and out of his mouth. His eyes are wide with fear as he falls down to the side. His hands press against the slash, but it’s hopeless. It doesn’t take long for his movement to still.

Hob watches it. As Alexander Burgess dies on the cold concrete, the rage in Hob’s body fades with it, replaced with sadness and exhaustion. He turns to his friend who watches him, his mouth parted, almost in awe. He steps forward and examines the cage. There are some sort of runes painted into the floor that he assumes are important. He scratches his heel against them, testing their resilience only to be met with the easy smearing of golden paint.

Pathetic, Hob thinks to himself. They couldn’t even get high quality paint. He doesn’t have much time to think much else as he’s suddenly tossed backwards by a force stronger than anything he’d ever felt before. It was as if a bomb had gone off inside the cage and, looking up, he wonders if it did. The glass is party shattered and a whirlwind of… something, Hob’s honestly not sure what. Magical clouds? Sure, magical clouds. They swirl around his friend as he steps out of the cage, flowing black robes forming around his body as he sets foot on the ground. He steps forward and the clouds fade until it is just him, his friend, and the carnage around them.

Hob stumbles up to his feet and smiles as he walks over to his Stranger. He goes to ask if he needs anything, but he’s beaten to it.

“Hob Gadling,” His friend says with an easier smile than he’s ever seen on the man’s face. “You came. I did not think...”

“I’d always come for you. Especially if you need me.”

His friend’s eyes are red with the threat of tears. “How did you find me? I could not speak in your dream.”

“Your sister helped.” His friend’s eyes widened.

“My sister.”

“Yeah,” he says, adjusting his jacket from where it had gotten blown out of sorts from the magic blast. “Apparently something with that dream I had the other night let her ask me for help? She didn’t really explain, or give me all that much information, honestly, but she had given me the name Burgess. Took a bit to figure out where you were and get what I needed, but I wasn’t about to let you sit down here another day longer if I could help it.”

A tear falls down his friend’s cheek. “I owe you a great debt, Hob Gadling.”

“No debt owed. It’s what friends do after all,” he says, looking down at his blood stained boots.

A hand tugs him close and suddenly he is nearly nose to nose with his friend. There is an expression on his face, one that Hob can’t quite parse. “You would still name me friend after all you had said to me?”

“Wha-”

“You promised to woo me, after all. Was this not simply the start of it? Rescuing me like a blushing maiden in a fairy tale? Spilling blood in my name like a loyal knight to his king?” His friend purred. His eyes were hooded as he stared down into Hob’s eyes. He can see a dart of his pink tongue in his peripheral and Hob can feel the quickly growing erection pressing against the thick denim of his jeans. He’s glad his friend is holding onto him because he’s pretty sure if he hears his friend say another word with that voice, his knees are going to give out on him.

“Would you like that?” He asks, his breath growing short as his friend looks at him like he’d like to devour him. Hob swallows. “I would, you know. I did. I’d kill more for you, if you’d like. Whatever you want. It’s yours. I’m yours.”

“Such a wonderful gift, but a dangerous thing to promise. Are you certain?”

“Always,” he pants. His friend’s eyes flash, the blue swirling into blackness as he leans forward.

Lips capture his own and they are just as soft as he remembers from his dream. Oh God, yeah, his knees are giving out. Between the adrenaline of this whole evening and the magical bomb blast thing, this, right here, this is what’s going to have him killed.

He moans into his friend’s mouth and shakily grips into the silky robes he wears as he feels a smooth tongue curl inside of him. He’s not sure how long they stay there, but it’s long enough that Hob’s vision is turning black from the lack of air. Wouldn’t be the worst way to go, honestly. And he’s tempted to let it when his friend pulls back, but not far. Just far enough that Hob can take in a gasp of air.

“Fuck,” he wheezes as he struggles to maintain balance.

“That can be arranged,” his friend hums. Maybe Hob had died and this was actually heaven.

He hears his friend sigh, the air caressing his face. “I must return to my realm. It has been absent far too long.” His friend releases his hold on Hob and he mentally pats himself on the back for only stumbling, not collapsing. The upward curl of his friend’s lips sends Hob’s heart soaring again.

“Right,” he says as his brain comes back online. “Uh. Do you… need a lift anywhere? Not sure I can drive to another realm, but I can get you out of this town at least.”

His friend shakes his head and tilts his head upward. His eyes dart around as if he’s searching for something unseen. “No,” he says, smiling a moment later. “No, I have found a means to return. But I will come back to you soon, Hob Gadling. This, I swear.”

His friend’s eyes are pitch black when they meet Hob’s gaze once more. It sends a chill down his spine and does nothing to help his aching prick. “Wait!” He calls out as his friend raises his hand. His Stranger arches his brow, but pauses his movement. “Before you leave, can I know your name, at least?”

His Stranger blinks. “My sister did not tell you it?”

Hob shakes his head. “Said it was your secret to tell, not hers.”

His Stranger huffs affectionately and raises his hand upward. With a smile, he says, “You may call me Dream.”

“Dream,” Hob whispers as he watches the figure of his friend fade away, not unlike the memory of a dream. He stands there, letting the mixed cocktail of emotions flow through him. Eventually, he moves, going through the motions of disposing of a crime scene (at least any evidence that would tie himself to it). Once all the damning bits are properly disposed of or at least brought with him to dispose of later, he makes his way back up the stairs, into his car, and heads back home, eagerly awaiting when his Stran- no - when Dream would visit him again.

[kekeyw]

current status

hi everyone!

i know it's been ages since i've posted new content and im so sorry for not being able to! i've been desperately wanting to play but i haven't had the time lately. i was essentially on an unannounced hiatus due to my creative blocks and being busy with school but here i am to announce that my hiatus will be over soon!!!

as you may or may not know, i am a high school student who has just started her final year... VERY SCARY. anyways, i've had so much homework thrown at me for only the first two days of year 12 and im trying to push through it all so that once im on holidays during dec-jan.

the oasis springs home (currently in video editing), chateau mansion (to be finalising build + cc list) and (possible cas video on the goths - unsure to post) are ready to be shipped off to you all soon!

i will continue to be on a hiatus for the next two weeks and a bit (since the new expansion pack will be out - hoping to make content for that) so i hope that you are all understanding!

i will see you all very soon!

love, kekeyw

[ofwrxth]

CHARACTER BASICS

Name: Noreen “Nora” Scott

Age & Birthday: 31, Dec 31

Gender/Pronouns: Cis Woman / She & Her

Species: Revenant

Birthplace: Breaux Bridge, Louisiana

Connection to Asphodel and/or the Syndicate: Recently arrived

Job/role: Attendee

Positive personality traits:  curious, astute, determined, free-spirited

Negative personality traits:  brazen, opinionated, reactive, rebellious

ABOUT

Nora grew up with her twin sister Tammie in Breaux Bridge. She was ignorant of the supernatural most of her life, due to the Scotts being human; A reality that was painfully obvious when their mom, Clara, passed away when they were young girls. Their father, Wyatt, wasn't prepared to raise two young, rambunctious girls on his own. So he didn't. He was distant in the years after Clara's death and Nora and Tammie only had each other to lean on, raising themselves as best they could in the rural countryside of State.

She was always interested in exploring the world beyond where they lived and would dream of running away on horseback. She and her sister volunteered at stables near their home, and fell in love with the majestic creatures. Still, it wasn't enough, and their little town was always going to be a dead end. When they'd saved enough, the Scott twins embraced the nomadic life, managing to bring a bit of mayhem, and a good dose of humor wherever they went. This lifestyle suited them better than their small town ever did but everything changed when they ended up in Orient Bay, Nova Scotia, to see the Northern Lights. They uncovered more than they bargained for there when they stumbled upon dark artifacts. Unease filled them and they tried to leave. But taking off in a stormy, wintery night ended in a would-be fatal accident.

Orient Bay was a town full of witches who practiced black magic, abyssal magic in particular and wanted to use the twins in a ritual to resurrect one of their recently deceased, Vera Nygard. Their bodies were recovered from the wreck and returned to town where the witches began the ritual to transfer their remaining energy and the last threads of their life force to the dead witch via abyssal magic. But the spell went in a different direction. Abyssal magic instead took hold of the sisters instead, pouring into their corpses and altering them forever. They awoke abominations. They were now Revenants.

Without the knowledge of the supernatural, or what they were, Nora and Tammie ran. They didn't stop running, wary of what was around every corner for the first few months of their new lives. But as they began to learn about themselves, through trial and error, they became stronger and more confident in what they could do. Nora knew that despite their lives having been turned upside down, she couldn't have continued on without her sister. Tammie was the anchor she needed when the storms of despair and doubt clouded her judgement, and she was the same for her sister.

The Scott sisters maintained a low profile, but recent events left them at odds with witches and so they did what they had to do to survive. Unfortunately, they caught the attention of some supernatural ghost hunters. A few weeks ago they were ambushed and captured by some weird goth witches and brought all the way back to New York where they've been locked up in an institute for that time.

They've recently been given permission to roam around, provided they wear the inhibitors. Nora isn't happy to oblige, but she's even less happy to be kept anywhere for more than a few days. It seems that despite her entire nature changing, some things remained the same. She's spent time exploring the institute but her hackles are still raised in the presence of witches. It's been a year since they were turned and introduced to the supernatural world and while Nora has learned a lot about herself since, she's still striving to learn more.

[todaysbiggesthits]

The Exam

Best Music Moment of 2023

Code: openly weeping and slyly recording alien boy's set at subT. sitting at sandy liang nyfw spring show and hearing harmony's "i am so lucky and nothing can stop me" while all of the bows in the world traipsed by. witnessing raphael and guillerme's post-dinner mid-80's french pop rock sing along session in chantilly. seeing phish cover "albuquerque" with gd by my side. christmas song jamon with Arden in central park on dec 24.

JD: August: Springsteen's rendition of "Nightshift" at Giants Stadium. October: Something made me want to listen to what I could only remember as a scary Ozzy Osbourne song they used to play on The Bear that went something like "Bury Nation." The actual lyrics upon figuring it out were so much more stupid and hilarious than I could have imagined. Got many delightful yuks and spins out of this jam.

November: Enjoying a wild stew of crass while spinning 100 gecs on my first ever stroll of the Vegas Strip.

Best Shows Seent in 2023

JD: 1. Bruce Springsteen at Giants Stadium 2. Panda Bear and Sonic Boom at Knockdown Center 3. Hamilton Leithauser at Cafe Carlyle 4. The Walkmen at Webster Hall 5. A. Savage at Bowery Ballroom 6. Beach Fossils at Knockdown Center 7. Aunt Puke and Goth Jafar at the Exhaus Latta after party at Jean's

Codeman: washer - alphaville 3EB - salt shed alien boy - subT future trash - subT basement the hold steady - salt shed phish - united center a. savage - bowery ballroom

Confession of 2023

Codem: it took a full eight months of encouragement to finally listen to 100 gecs because i was certain that they were going to sound like let's eat grandma.  i was wrong, they do not.  

Biggest Disappointment of 2023

JD: Happy Mondays cancelling their trip to the US after we were so pumped to get tickets.

Cig: i thought i could hold off on buying tix to see ovlov on a sunday night in chicago only to have the show sell out and i then spent a full 45 days trawling craigslist for a ticket that never appeared.

Most Overrated of 2023

Codem: i zigged when boygenius and caroline polachek thought i would zag

JD: Feel like I should be more into Wenzdee.

Make It Stop 2023

JD: It isn't even make it stop because it's over and there's no going back, but watching Travis Scott's "Circus Maximus" long form film was a fascinating study in the terminal stage of aesthetics that we're living through. Truly the most dispiriting experience of the TBH era.

Codemin: new blink album

Biggest TBH Regret of 2023

Code: not trying harder to see 100 gecs + liturgy in nyc

JD: Second the above. Also got some insane pangs of regret upon seeing the Billy Idol setlist at King's Theater and a clip of "Nicotine and Gravy" from Beck's MSG show.

Detective Murtaugh of 2023

Code: there was a WAOR-type song quoted during phish's tweezer and i cannot for the life of me figure out what it was. i've been wracking my brain weekly, but i can't seem to jar anything loose.  

JD: My most played song of the year was Charles Mingus - "Goodbye Pork Pie Hat."

Resolution for 2023 Status

Codem: -pony up and go see a show at salt shed. fever ray?  How It Went: seent two of em and neither were fever ray?! -load neil’s discography onto my phone. i’m too often humming his tunes and then can’t play powderfinger on the way home from the office. How It Went: subscribed to apple music just to get ol' shakey in my ears again

JD: More Lou. How It Went: Best: Songs For Drella Max Utility: Coney Island Baby Most Desired Cheap Copy at a Record Store: Legendary Hearts

Resolution for 2024

JD: Think I'm going to lean on The Smiths to get me through all the election miz this year.

Code Man: 1) expend similar effort in finding new music next year and try to stretch myself past the usual suspects 2) go to more shows on my nyc wknds

Most Anticipated of 2024

Code: i'm putting all of my eggs in the dom basket, everything else will be gravy

JD: I've got nothing, so let's double the cosmic pressure on Dom.

[allie-ofthedolls]

30% OFF EVERYTHING IN MY SHOP WITH CODE: CREEPMAS UNTIL DEC. 21 + FREE SHIPPING WITH CODE: FREESHIP UNTIL THE END OF THE YEAR

[pagesofserene]

Dec. 15th: 10-Days Before Christmas (2022 Story Relay Marathon)

Hi, kindred souls! This is the third story relay of a 12-day story relay marathon I endorsed to my friend, ShiaraS (Discord: Shiara#5382) , that we will be doing from Dec. 13th to Dec. 24th—AKA 12 days before Christmas!

Since this is a marathon of sorts, we decided to lay some ground rules so we can "finish" each relay for each day. It would start with me drawing a prompt every morning from a plastic container that will serves as our bowl for this occasion. These prompts were collected by us from different sources (I will do my absolute best to give appropriate credit for the original creators/source material).

The story relay would then consist of 5 turns for both of us with a max. of 10-16 sentences each turn. After these, the story relay for that day would be considered "finished". THERE WILL BE NO EDITING DONE FOR ALL STORY RELAYS.

These rules were placed since ShiaraS' exams were also scheduled during the set week.

[We started this on the night of the 15th but we fell asleep. XD We then continued it today during our free time. We hope to post the prompt for the Dec.16th sometime tonight.]

HERE'S THE WRITING PROMPT FOR TODAY'S STORY RELAY:

An old and homely grandmother accidentally summons a demon. She mistakes him for her gothic-phase teenage grandson and takes care of him. The demon decides to stay at his new home. (via @writing-prompt-s)

START OF STORY RELAY:

Nana has been living by herself in the retirement village for a few years now. Her two kids live far away and neither they nor their children visited much. Until, one day when she was making her special apple pie and her grandson, Tyler, popped up for a visit. The last time she spoke to Tyler, the boy was going through his goth phase so Nana assumed that explained why he was now wearing a silver studded leather jacket and ripped jeans. "Granny," He smirked, "what a change from the usual - " "Quit dawdling, Tyler, and give your Nana a hug." Before Tyler could do anything, the older woman closed the distance and wrapped her thin arms around him. Tyler froze, not knowing what to do. Because, Nana was wrong. Her grandson did not come to visit, in fact he's currently in his friend's apartment 300 miles away as they slept off the hangover from the night before. No, the boy Nana had mistaken for her grandson was a demon she had accidentally summoned. The demon stood with his arms in the air, not hugging and not pushing away the old woman either. "Come now, Tyler," Nana said, "I haven't seen you in years, I missed you." Somehow, feeling the sadness in the old woman's voice touched the heart the demon would have sworn he never had, and he hesitantly returned Nana's hug. Maybe it's because he had only been a demon for 150 years and he still remembered bits of his human life. Like the old woman across the street who let him crash in her place whenever he needed a decent place to sleep in.

Humans are indeed a complex breed. Tyler wondered how long would it take for this old woman to realize that he wasn't her grandson. "Oh look how much you've grown dear," Nana cooed as she accosted the demon. Demons don't get a name of their own up until the 333rd year since they become one. On the 666th year, they get the chance to either torture souls sent to hell or possess a specific object on earth. Overtaking a human body and ensnaring human souls are highly diabolical power that only the most nefarious and malevolent of demons could do. These are the fiends that raked in the Devil himself's favor. It came as a surprise that he get to be named by a wrinkly human being. A bland name at that. Either way, he decided to accept this mistaken identity at least for the time being. He was summoned by this granny after all, by mistake at best. "How old are you again, Tyler?", Nana turned her back and went straight into the kitchen. "I'm 150—15!" "Oh wow. I thought you're way past your high school. I guess I was mistaken once again." she turned the kettle on after pouring water into it. " I do hope you still like to drink my nettle tea. Come on, sit here. It's been a long time since I have been with a member of the family for the holidays." It seems that nana's in the mood for a monologue. Tyler wondered if this was the only time the old woman received a visitor for days or even for months in her house. "Please pardon me for not getting you anything teenagers nowadays like for Christmas. But I intend to buy you those leather gloves I see the local bikers' been wearing by the pub whenever I pass by for my groceries. I was about to ask Jerry where they buy those but I haven't been able to go out due to this cold weather."

It was such a mundane, senseless dialogue that Tyler the demon couldn't help but laugh. "Are you laughing at your Nana?" Nana said, trying to sound stern. Tyler wasn't the least bit intimidated but he decided to humor her. "Sorry... Nana, I was just thinking of a funny joke." Satisfied with the apology, Nana continued her monologue. Switching from the leather gloves to this new herbal medicine she saw on TV. It was easy for Tyler to tuner her out. He was amused by the old lady but he wasn't going to submit himself to mindless chatter for no reason. So, his mind drifted to what brought him here. Summoning a demon isn't an easy feat. Well, technically, it is. It had to be to invite more fools to make demon deals. Still, it's not the king of thing you can do by accident. You'd need an open space for the pentagram, sacrificial blood, and not to mention the summoning spell that needed to be recited. It was completely impossible for this sweet old lady to have summoned a demon. And yet, she did and Tyler intended to find out how. "Hey, Nana," He began "Yes dear?" "I was just curious, were you doing anythin... new before I got here?" Nana thought about it for a moment. She smiled, "I was baking, dear. I was trying a new twist to my famous apple pie." Tyler groaned. "Anything else?" "Hmm well, I was using the recipe from this new cook book I got at the library." Nana went to the kitchen to retrieve the cool book. When she got back, she gave it to Tyler whose eyes nearly popped out of his skull. "Sinful Cooking" The title read. Although perhaps more worryingly was the giant pentagram on the cover.

"You got it at the library, you say?" Tyler racking his unholy brain. Nana nodded and proceeded to check her apple pie from the oven. It was still warm even though it was a while since she turned the machine off after Tyler' arrival. "You see, Cindy, the librarian told me they have new arrivals of books donated from Europe. I do think those folks were nice to send over their books to a tiny American town such as ours." She now placed the apple pie on a wooden tray on top of the table by which enabled Tyler to view the scorched infernal patterns on each strips on top of the pie. There was no question that Nana summoned him through this. "How did you do these symbols Nana?" "What do you mean by that dear? I saw them in the cook book and traced them using just the cooking stave I bought from the thrift store last year." And that 'cooking' stave happened to have a symbol of a ram's skull at the tip. "How did you cook this new recipe, Nana?" "It's quite simple but a bit bizarre, Tyler." Nana proceeded to recite all the common steps to bake an apple pie but the "twists" were she put a 5-pointed star pattern on the oven tray by sprinkling dried hibiscus leaves for the medicinal smell. She placed the pie on top of it which included a trickle of pig's blood. "Oh also dear, there was this European affirmation at the end that I must recite to persuade my pie to be come out as best as it could." There's no question that through this book and Nana's apple pie that she unknowingly summoned a demon. Tyler doubts that there were any purpose for him to be at the old granny's house except to act as her grandson who happens to be a naughty and irresponsible one which he approved. "Let's taste this special apple pie then begore it gets cold." Nana started slicing up a portion for Tyler and placed it on two tiny plates. Tyler gobbled up the pie, it was surprisingly good. Nana seems to also enjoy her baked good despite it's demonic origins. "So Nana, do you have anything you want to do?"

It may have been an accident that Nana summoned him, and he should really tell his superiors about this cook book, but Nana did summon him and the rules dictate that he give the old lady a deal. That and he quite liked Nana. She baked good pie. "I don't know, Tyler, dear." She said, "I'm quite content with things as they are. When you reach my age, you'll realize every day is a gift and regret is pointless." "Aww come on Nana, surely there must be something you want. Anything at all." Nana hesitated as she served Tyler another slice of pie. "Well... I guess it would be nice if my family came to visit more often." Tyler smirked. This was one deal he would happily make. He liked Nana and when he realized how alone the woman was, well... never piss off a demon. "I'm sure I can make that happen." "Thank you, sweet dear." Nana smiled. While Nana turned her back to wash the dishes, Tyler disappeared in a flash of black to grant the old lady's deal.

By the time Nana finished putting the cleaned dishes aside. Tyler came back trying to still himself after he planted whispered illusions to each of Nana's family. By nighttime, each one of them would dream about a moment when Nana did a good thing to them after or before a tragedy or traumatic event happened to them. He surmised that Nana's family will visit her a week after he left for Hell. "Say Nana, we go out and build a fire pit and lit up a handful of fireworks?" "I don't know, Tyler dear. It's so cold with all the snow." "Don't worry about it, Nana. I'll make sure it would be warm for you." "Alright. Let me make cocoa and cookies for our snacks." Nana trotted towards the kitchen island with pots and jars. Tyler liked warm places because he wanted to become a torturer in the coming centuries. He was thinking about torturing drug dealers, mafia members... He wanted to give them different punishments but most especially has anything to do with fiery tortures. They spent the afternoon firing up different types of fireworks. More than once did Nana inquired where Tyler got all the firecrackers and he would just showed her a bag he conjured full of them saying he collected them on the way to her house.

The night Tyler spent having dinner at the fire pit and watching the fore works with Nana, was probably the most serene the demon's ever been. The old lady was surprisingly good company and starved for companionship. She even set up the guest room and insisted he stay the night. Of course, being a demon, Tyler didn't need to sleep. So, he waited until Nana had gone to sleep before disappearing to go back to Hell. He requested a meeting with Azazel and after 13 years, he got his chance. "Sir, I think we have a problem." Tyler wasted no time in telling the older demon about the book. Azazel wasn't happy about it. His eyes burned in his amger and Tyler feared a smiting was on his way. But Azazel spared him. "Go back to the surface." He ordered, "Find out more about this book and who wrote it. I want to know who's responsible for this." "Yes, sir." Tyler said and disappeared again. By the time Tyler got back to Nana's house, it was only the morning after she accidentally summoned him.

Nana was up early and singing by the front porch all covered up holding a cup coca singing to herself. "...You always break the kindest heart with a hasty word you can't recall, so if I broke your heart last night. It's because I love you most of all..." The door squeaked a tiny bit as Tyler closed it behind him. "Mornin', Tyler. Hear have some cocoa." Tyler took a couple of sips while Nana continued singing her old heartbreak song. "Hey, Nana..." "Uh-huh..." "About your cookbook, do you think you could let me read through it?" Nana looked at him "I just wanna see if I could try a recipe or two from that book. Your apple pie came out splendid." "Sure, Tyler. You could read it anytime. It's on the tiny bookshelf near the refrigerator. Perhaps you could make me meal from that book." "Thanks, Nana. I'll try to make an edible meal after reading the recipes." Tyler proceeded to open the book once he took it off the shelf. It was a leatherbound book in emerald coloring. This was proof that this book was way older than a century or two. He sniffed it and there was still a hint left of the arsenic used to color the leather green. This was even more problematic than he thought it would be. How can a book such as this slip through their radar? Even worse, it might have been used and circulated in Europe for decades, even a century. Why weren't their any accounts of demon casting up until Nana called upon Tyler? He flipped through the book and there were tons of recipes and notes taken on herbs and their uses in curses, healings, protection against white magic, and at least 10 ways of summoning demons. This was a diabolical book published in pretence for a cookbook. There was no author indicated but instead a publishing company called "The Grapevine Publishing House" located in Poland. TYler decided he will visit the address so he told Nana he will buy a dozen of fish from the wet market. Nana was delighted by the prospect of a grilled fish for lunch. Tyler snapped his fingers and he was in front of the publishing house. It was now dilapidated but there were still remaining bricks of walls and columns. He went inside and surveyed the mess left by junkies and the homeless who sought shelter within. He then popped outside the town's archival office and asked for the records of the publishing house. He read through it and found out the one who owned the publishing house was also the sole author of the books produced. She was aptly named Lilian Circe. Of course, it has to be Lillian Circe, Lilith's human form.

After confirming that Lilian really was the author and publisher of the Sinful Cooking books, Tyler vanished immediately. The last thing he wanted was to come face to face with one of the most powerful demons ever to exist. He didn't immediately go back to Nana's house. He needed a place to regroup and gather his thoughts and stop shaking. So, he chose a druggie's den. He had no idea where to go from here. Does he follow Azazel's order and risk being killed by Lilith? Or does he pretend he still hadn't made any progress with Azazel's order and hope that he wasn't watching him too closely? Whatever he chose, Tyler was sure a fireball to the face was awaiting him. Frustration mounting, he couldn't help but lash out at the druggies around him. Giving them powerful nightmares even if they're awake. He was in the den for what felt like forever. In the end, he decided to keep quiet for now. Because even though Azazel was a powerful demon, he was nowhere near as powerful as Lilith. Tyler would rather risk his wrath than Lilith's. Decision made, Tyler snapped his fingers once more and returned to Nana's house. It was past noon when he got there and all he wanted to do was sink into the bed Nana made for him. He didn't need sleep but he was damn near exhausted. He walked through the living room intent on doing just that when he was suddenly greeted by Nana's anger. She was fuming as she stood in the kitchen, an uneaten lunch for two laid out on the table behind her. "Where have you been?" She asked, "I've been worried sick!" Tyler sighed and tried to walk closer to her but as he did, she caught a whiff of him and the anger turned to shock. "Tyler have you been doing drugs?!"

"I was hanging out with a few druggies but didn't take some." it seems to be better to tell her the truth as drugs were not pleasurable nor tempting for a demon like him. "Why?" "I stumbled upon something big, Nana." Nana squinted her eyes in confusion. "Hellish big, Nana. I am confused about what to do because no matter what I choose, I am sure to get a punishment or might die DIE." "I don't understand, Tyler but you'll be safe here. Stay for now and we will discuss this with your parents after some time has passed." Nana pulled him into a hug which TYler accepted wholeheartedly. "Do you want to cook a recipe together? From the cook book? I'll guide you." Tyler exhaled and smiled. "Let's visit the pub Nana and ask your friend Jerry about those gloves."

THE END. OR IS IT?

Please stay tuned for the rest of the story relays we will be doing!

[rainswonderlandhandmade]

Ouija Board Magnets

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Home Decoration Wallpaper Tips To Create Comfortable Small Size Bedroom - joecatherine

Home Decoration Wallpaper

Tips To Create Comfortable Small Size Bedroom - joecatherine

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[jp-vampyrian616]

I am a taken treehugging introvert for life (trying to be a Vegetarian), "Vampyrian Graver", (Vampyre Pagan UU ElectroGoth) in mid OHIO with Aspergers @ https://t.co/hyJeEeQJl2 ~ email me here: jpvanir616@yahoo.com ~ or call me at 740-889-8570. I am also a struggling Experimental Sound Artist JP Vampyrian of My sound art band Vampyrian616: (https://vampyrian616.com) ~

My sounds are available here: https://vampyrian616.bandcamp.com.

Please do not tip me here as they wont let me use paypal which is at: vampyrian616@hotmail.com

I am the Old school Gothic Vamp & founder of V-TempleUVUP since Dec.18th 2003. I have been working on the Vampire/Vampyre, Pagan, and Goth Alliance based in Ohio to unite all communities and not just devote myself to one: https://ohiovpgalliance.wixsite.com/vampagangothalliance also since I believe 2012 - I have been in the gothic community since the first Outland (mid 90's), the pagan community since 2002, as well as the V community since mid 2000. Since 2012. I have been working on the Vampire/Vampyre, Pagan, and Goth Alliance based in Ohio to unite all communities and not just devote myself to one and now beyond Ohio above...

I love topics about possession, the supernatural, Vampyres, Otherkin, Dark Spirituality, and Darkness ect...

My Blogs/Writings: https://vampyrian.wixsite.com/jp-vanirs-writings

My youtube Channel: https://www.youtube.com/c/JPVampyrian616

I am mostly just active with my sounds, art, writing, TempleUVUP, The VPG alliance, donating, my charities, and helping others that have gone through the same crap as me. If you need to get a hold of me contact me at: jp.vanir616@gmail.com or home @ 740-889-8570

My favorite singers are: Andrew Eldritch, Robert Smith, and Candia Ridley...

MY FAVORITE MUSIC: DARK TRANCE! - EBM - INDUSTRIAL - GOTH - DARK ELECTRONIC - DARK TRANCE - GOTH INDUSTRIAL - DRUMMING - PERCUSSION - DARK DANCE...

My favorite bands are Velvet Acid Christ, Esoterik, Blutengel, Inkubus Sukkubus, Strvngers, and Hocico even though they are completely different...

MY other FAVORITE BANDS ARE: UNTER NULL, FrightDoll, THE CURE, SKINNY PUPPY, Suicide Commando, WolfChild,SNOG, Youth Code, Crystal Castles, Goo Munday, PROJECT PITCHFORK, NORMORIA, SEVERE ILLUSION, 6th Circle, ALIEN SEX FIEND, VDevil, Kill Shelter, and Traitrs. After that I also like WUMPSCUT, Android Lust, WOLFSHEIM, Nine Inch Nails, DEAD CAN DANCE, Dance or Die. BELLA MORTE, CHRISTIAN DEATH, FLESH FIELD, DAS ICH, DAVID BOWIE, MISFITS, Siouxsie and The Banshees, PRINCE, LONDON AFTER MIDNIGHT, ECT...

My favorite shows and movies are​

God Bless America (2011), Cottage Country, Little Shop of Horrors (original 86 one when the plant took over the world and everyone died), Phantom of the opera, THE NIGHT CLERK, Shaun of the dead, What we do in the shadows (series and movie), The Underworld movies, The Matrix trilogy, the X-men movies, Life force, Phantom of the opera, The Evil Dead movies except the remake, Avatar, Fargo (the series and movie), The Nightmare before Christmas, Ash vs the evil dead as well as evil dead movies, preacher, LIFE FORCE. My favorite more realistic vampire movies are movies are THE HAMILTON'S, MARTIN - DAWN - HABIT - THIRST (1979) (At least the Vampires let the humans have pleasure as they feed from them unlike humans as they torture there food; however I do disagree with forced awakening), queen of the damned, How to be a Serial Killer! (Great funny ass shit)...

I also like Caprica* BLOOD TIES, THE DEATHS OF IAN STONE, DRACULA, ALL Hannibal Lecter and Serial killer Movies /TV Shows, Dylan Dog (Dead of Night), THE OMEGA MAN (I prefer the Vampires or at least the leader Spiritual Vampire to the humans who created the plague), DRACULA 2000, SUCK, The PERFECT CREATURE, VAMPYRES, ULTRAVIOLET, VAMPIRES, Perfect Sisters (2014 but they should have gotten away with it!) The UNDERWORLD MOVIES, What we do in the shadows, Doctor Strange, The Usual Suspects, DEMON UNDER GLASS, LEGEND, EDWARD SCISSOR HANDS, THE LOST BOYS, INTERVIEW THE VAMPIRE, CANADIAN BACON, ED WOOD FILMS, THE DARK HALF, Night of the Living Dead Films, POWDER, THE ADDAMS FAMILY, THE ADDICTION, THE ROCKY HORROR PICTURE SHOW, CORPSE BRIDE, NIGHTMARE BEFORE CHRISTMAS, VAMPIRE JOURNALS, V FOR VENDETTA, VAMPIRE INTERVIEWS, the ADDICTION, DOGMA, CLERKS (both), BILLY MADISON, WHITE ZOMBIE, SID and NANCY, ALMOST ANYTHING BY MICHEAL MOORE, 12 MONKEYS, EMBRACE OF THE VAMPIRE, THE JERK, SOUTH PARK THE MOVIE, PURPLE RAIN, ECT...

I DONT LIKE MANY NEW TV SHOWS. I LIKED Santa Clarita Diet, TRUE BLOOD, Ash vs the Evil dead, Supernatural, ANGEL, FOREVER KNIGHT, GATES, BLOOD TIES, FRINGE, LOST GIRL, (real) Humans, The 100, American Horror Story, Continuum, HANNIBAL, Grimm, The Gifted, the ADDAMS FAMILY. The only things new I like are: What we do in the shadows, Carnival Row, American Horror Story, 12 Monkeys, Fargo, Legacies, Vikings, and Utopia Falls...

​

My favorite books are: The Vampyrian Shadow book (not just because I wote it either), pagan and earth-centered voices in Unitarian Universalism, The Druidry Handbook, and books about real Vampyres, paganism (esp Druidry but also Darker paths as well), theology, goths, animal rights, ect...

Morbid Obscurity, Peace, Love, Death, and Respect...

[poisonously-alluring-sev]

Snape One Shots ~ Gothic Lust

Summary: Emily is one of the more popular students at Hogwarts, who also happens to be a goth, and even though most people like to obsess over her and want to date her, she has never let any of the students at Hogwarts date her. Children of all ages she didn’t like so when a dark and mysterious MAN who matches her grumpy and dark aesthetic comes along she can’t help, but be curious.

Pairing: Snape x Female OC

Warnings: Swearing

Time: Two years before Harry Graduates

Word Count: 12 200

Recommended Song: Girl I Know by Avenged Sevenfold

Main Character: Emily Jones; 20; DOB: Dec 16th, 1969 (Sagittarius); American; Caucasian; Slytherin; Pure Blood; 5'5; light skin; dark brown hair with green tips; green/gray eyes

The Quidditch match was finally over with my teams mates taking first place in the house rankings before we go home for the Christmas holidays. I hugged and applauded my Chaser's, Beater's, Keeper and Seeker before heading off the change rooms. Everyone that was watching was applauding us and as I looked up I swear I saw Snape smiling as he clapped in response to what everyone else was doing, But as soon as I thought it was there it was gone making me feel like I was seeing things.

I gave my speech to my team, as all captains do after a game, and then we hopped back on our brooms and flew back to the castle as the stars started to come out. Tonight the Slytherin house was having a Christmas party and also celebrating our Quidditch win. Unlike the normal parties, we have where everyone gets super drunk and somehow a group of like 20 kids from each other house ends up in the party, this time it was just going to be us.

Soon it was 10 pm and everyone was expected to be in they're dorms and most teachers were in they're quarters and not walking the halls. Many of the older students were in the common room as a small group of fifth years went out to the kitchen to get some extra fire whiskey and such. Soon they come running back into the common room waving the alcohol in the air and within a few minutes, everyone had a drink in their hand or had taken a couple shots and were dancing to the music that was playing. After about two hours Murphy Hugh stood on a table and yelled out into the loud crowd and got all of the student's attention.

"Hey y'all, so I know we normally have the Christmas parties, but this one is special thanks to our Quidditch team helping us get 500 points ahead of all of the other houses!" He raised his glass and everyone clapped, screamed or wolf-whistled. I found myself getting pushed up onto the table by someone and drunk as always Murphy pulled me in by my waist to stand beside him as he toasted to me and my teammates and said a couple more things.

"Hey, you wanna say something Em?"

"Merry Fucking Christmas you beautiful fucks! Now, where's the hard liquor?" People yelled in response and started to dance, drink, and make out again. Hopping off of the table I got thrown a full bottle of fire whiskey from Murphy as he said,

"You really sure you don't want a boyfriend Em? You are the most popular girl in Hogwarts, everybody has a thing for you." I rolled my eyes as I sat down on the one couch that wasn't covered in couples, Murphy sat down with me.

"Come on Murph, I told you already, I don't care for dating, it's too much work to have to care for someone, plus I want someone who will call on demons with me or jump into a burning building for fun. I don't think anyone here is of that status."

"Okay, true, but I'm sure you'll find someone." He stood up and started to walk away and I said over the loud music.

"You too mister drunk." He spun around and gave me the finger bringing a chuckle out of me. I downed about half of the bottle and said to myself,

"Let's get this fucking party started."

**** The Next Morning ****

It was 10 am when I finally woke up still in my clothes from last night's party and a pounding headache. I stood up slowly and decided I didn't need a shower and put my hair into a thick braid and tied it into a bun. I could hear the last few students running out of they're dorms to get to the train before they were late. I sighed at the pain in my head when I started to walk to the door but was too lazy to take something for it and thought I would just deal with it and headed out off the common room to the kitchen to where hopefully they had some leftovers from breakfast for me. As soon as I entered Pitts looked at me and waved me over to the back. I had spent so much time down here for food I missed at meals and sometimes for detention, but I usually was sent to help Hagrid since I didn't like magical creatures that much.

I sat down in the backroom of the kitchen and snacked on some breakfast pastries and bacon until I felt I had enough food in my body to keep going until dinner where food would be served again. After I was done I thanked the elves in the kitchen and headed upstairs to maybe see if someone cool stayed back for the Christmas holidays. Sadly, nobody was in the great hall or in the courtyard. I sighed as my eyes hurt and burned from the sun making my head worse and decided to head down to the boathouse and see if maybe I could catch someone bulling a first or second year. Again to my disappointment nobody was there and I was bored. I sat down on a bench inside the boathouse happy that there wasn't anybody here, but I also was hoping I could yell at someone and scare them with my goth looks.

After about 10 minutes of me just sitting in silence and enjoying it I could feel eyes on me, it could have just been another student, but they kept their eyes on me and I could feel it burning into the back of my head. I was starting to get sick of them watching me and was ready to spin around and very passive-aggressively ask them what they were doing, but I felt the gaze drift away, which made me curious to find out who it was. I stood up and saw nobody there so I went out of the boathouse and looked up the trail you take to get here and no one. I looked the other way to where the shore of the Black Lake was and saw a tall figure moving in the trees by the shore. Since they were very tall I figured it was a teacher who probably was watching to see if I was going to cause trouble. I scoffed the feeling off and followed them. You can never know what curious things different things happen at Hogwarts and what some secrets about teachers you can find. I am a popular student at Hogwarts anything I say will spread like wildfire within the school and to be honest, it feels nice to have that kind of power to ruin someone's reputation, but I never have done it I just hear about things other people say about me and I shut them down.

After about five minutes of me keeping my distance from this person they stopped at the edge of the lake and the dark forest, I hated going into the dark forest for detention since even during the daytime it was like it was 8 pm in the summer, dark, but you could barely see details in what could be following you as you head deeper into the forest. I was hesitant to keep following, but I had absolutely nothing better to do so I kept my distance and slowly stepped over sticks following behind them at about a 20ft distance. Soon I had followed them to what seemed to be a small garden with different flowers and plants that I'm pretty sure I remember from Herbology or maybe Potions. They bent down to pick and cut a few of them as I looked around the surrounding area and thought,

'This sure is a strange place to have a garden.' I shrugged, but I was soon brought back to focusing on the person in front of me who basically reacted as though he heard my thoughts making me think I said them out loud, but I was sure that I didn't. The person had tensed up and had stopped cutting leaves from the plants and were slowly putting it away like there was a deadly creature watching him and he was trying not to make a scene. I was starting to panic thinking that maybe they had seen me and I decided to slowly back away and as soon as I was out of eyesight and earshot I started to run away back on the path I had come from. About a few minutes later I saw the boathouse again and fell down back onto the bench I was sitting on earlier hoping to be able to catch my breath. After a couple of minutes, my heart rate had lowered back to normal and I wasn't in such a panic as I was before. Looking back to what had just happened I tried to rule out the possibilities of who that could have been, but it wasn't easy since I never heard a voice or was able to see their face, all I had was the body shape of this person. They were either 6ft or taller, had to be male, wore all black, had black hair, or I was assuming since it was dark I couldn't really tell, and they had a special garden out in the dark forest.

I decided to go to the library to see if I could find those plants that were there and maybe see what they could be used for and why someone here at Hogwarts would need them. After looking for about 40 minutes I figured out that the plants were common things used in potions to help with getting rid of toxins and bacteria from the human body. It confused me at first since to me nobody has any need to have these plants, but then my mind clicked. Snape. Of course, he has a garden to grow these plants the come from far away places. It also makes much more sense since he is also to Potions teacher and I was surprised I didn't make that connection before when I was there. I felt really stupid and with all of this thinking and reading my head was really starting to pound now and I decided to go to Pomfrey and finally get this pain out of my head, even though I know Pomfrey will yell at me for drinking she shouldn't be surprised since I can only imagine how many other students came to her before they left this morning.

I knew that at this time she probably didn't have a super serious injury to take care of so I just opened the doors and went straight to her about to wave when I saw Snape talking to her with the same plants I had seen him taking from his secret garden. My hand slowly dropped as they both turned around to look at me as Snape handed her the flowers. I smiled at them and I walked closer to them as they finished their conversation. Soon Pomfrey turned to me and asked me why I was here.

"Well, like my other house friends I too need something for a pounding headache that I somehow got when I woke up this morning." She sighed and pulled out a newly brewed potion from her closest, handed it to me and thanked Snape for delivering her the ingredients she needed. I felt myself give a confused look to Snape as he watched me slowly walking past Pomfrey and I as she lectured me on drinking, but I wasn't paying attention to her, but the strange teacher watching me as he passed.

'What the hell is his problem?' I asked myself in my head, and yet again he reacted as if I talked out loud, but I was certain I didn't. He glared at me as I gave yet an even more confused look to which he seemed to react weirdly and walked away quickly not looking back. I shrugged in my head and continued to tell her that she needed to relax since she probably already told about 20 other students this lecture before and I could tell she was tired even though it was only like 12:30. Soon I had gotten Pomfrey to stop talking and downed my potion and walked out of the hospital wing feeling better already, but very confused about Snape.

**** 6pm (Dinner Time) ****

I was sitting right at the front of my house table, closest to the teacher table, waiting for Pitty to finally set out the food so I could eat it and then head back to my dorm and just hang out and enjoy being alone even though I did that for most of the day already. As I ate with a couple other housemates I could feel heavy eyes watching me and I honestly wasn't really going to look around and see who it was, and I wasn't surprised that the first place I looked was to the teachers' table since I had been suspicious of Snape all day and not to my surprise we locked gazes and neither of us wanted to look away and seem weak, at least that's what I thought we were doing. After a couple of seconds Snape looked away and I mentally fist-bumped, but soon was pulled away from that thought as I saw who he was looking at now. Dumbledore. They were both looking at each other and I saw Dumbledore raise an eyebrow and Snape roll his eyes and go back to his food, but Dumbledore looked over at me and smiled I smiled back, but only because I had zero ideas of what just happened.

After seeing that Dumbledore probably noticed us both staring at each other I tried my hardest not to look back up there and got invested in a conversation that was happening at my table. About 20 minutes later most of the Hall was empty besides a group of other popular students, me, and Snape who wasn't really eating his food, but rather it seemed like he was using it as an excuse to stay in the Great Hall for some reason. I keep glancing up at the teacher's table and every time I did Snape looked up like he knew I was watching him and it kind of freaked me out when he would look back at me with a glare at basically the same time I looked in his direction. Soon we had all finished our dinner and as the others talked for a bit I just wanted to get out of the Hall, but as I stood up I noticed Snape already walking towards me. I don't know why, but I panicked, he was clearly coming for me since he had his eyes locked on me. I quickly made my way through some small crowds that were in my way and by the time I got to the main doorway I thought I was home free. I was wrong. A large hand landed on my shoulder and I quietly cursed to myself as I turned around to see Snape standing there arms crossed like he was trying to seem angry.

"Yes Professor?" I said trying to make it seem like I didn't care, but in the back of my head I could tell that he wasn't convinced.

"Dumbledore said that he would like to see you in his office, now." He said in a very stern voice that honestly didn't really fit this kind of conversation, maybe if I like pulled a huge prank or something, but not right now.

"Oh..kay," I said pretty confusedly. We both stood there looking at each other, but not in the eyes which made things pretty awkward and then Snape slipped past me and went right in the direction of the dungeons. I stood there for a little bit kind of dumbfounded, but then I made my way to see what Dumbledore wanted, he probably wanted to talk about what he saw today and I honestly couldn't think of any good excuse.

"Fuck me." The hidden staircase opened up as I said the secret password and waited for moving stairs to take me to the top since I was too lazy to actually walk up to them. I knocked on the door, but no response so I just let myself in, as usual, Dumbledore doesn't mind. I found myself in the Headmaster's office which was strangely quiet. Not saying that it never is quiet, but Dumbledore would normally have a window open or something and you could hear the sounds of the wind blowing, but this time there wasn't even that. I looked at the painting of the past Headmasters many of them weren't nice to me and I had to hold in the urge to flip them off and got distracted by the number of books in the back of the room. After about a minute or two I noticed that these books weren't your normal library books, but rather ones that you might not even find in the restricted section.

"Human eating trees, magical ocean portals, muggle sightings. Okay, some of these are a little weird, oh no wonder," I looked on the inside of the book to read the date of when t was made.

"Some of these are 500 years old." I sighed with boredom and went back down the stairs to sit in one of the few sofa chairs that sit with teapots in front of them. I didn't really know too much summoning magic, but I was considered to be one of the most academic students of my year so I probably could see if maybe I was able to summon some tea for myself. After about a few minutes of focusing and trying really hard to summon at least some water, nothing was happening. I let out a large sigh in mental agony.

"Not everyone at your age is ready to summon things from thin air, but I can give you a book to practice if you like," Dumbledore said from behind me scaring me a little. He waved his hand over the teapot and poured two cups for us. I just gently glared at him when he wasn't looking and took a sip of the tea.

"You wanted to talk to me, Headmaster?" He took a set down in another chair on the other side of the table and looked like he was ready to gossip about ol' Brenda the crazy bitch friend.

"Ah, yes. There are a couple of things I would like to talk to you about today." He took a sip of his tea and thankfully I felt a little revealed, but I was too happy too soon.

"Mainly about what was going on at dinner tonight between you and Professor Snape." I slowly took a sip of my tea trying to drag out the silence for as long as possible before I said.

"Well, it's strange rather. Every time I would look up at the table he would immediately look at me whether I was looking at him or not and the time that you happen to notice he was actually looking at me first and I was glaring at him because I didn't like the way his eyes felt on me." He raised an eyebrow as he sipped on his tea which I can only imagine how much sugar he puts in it.

"Well. I'll make sure to ask him about it as well, seeing as though you are not the problem." I didn't know if I should take that as a good thing or if he was being sarcastic and trying to insult me. We talked about many other things until we both ran out of tea to drink. I said my goodbye to Dumbledore and made my way back to my dorm to hopefully get some good sleep instead of staying up until 3 am on a normal school day. After reading up a bit on the book Dumbledore gave me it was about 9 pm and about the time I should probably get to bed so I changed into my PJ's, but before I could get into bed I heard a hoot and a screech coming from my window and saw two owls with letters in their becks. One I could tell was Dumbledore's, but the other one I wasn't sure. They both flew in my window as soon as I opened it and I gave them both a biscuit. Dumbledore's owl took it nice and gently whereas the other jumped back from my hand a bit and took it a bit aggressively, but it didn't phase me. It was strange rather I knew that owls took on the personality of their owner and it was clear that this owl was Dumbledore's. It was the most humble owl I had ever seen, but the other one, it was hard to pinpoint it's behaviour to a person, but as soon as I picked up the letter it had been told to give to me I knew right away by the handwriting. It was Snape's owl, which made sense since it really wasn't good with people and wasn't nice when I gave it something to make it happy. I opened Dumbledore's letter first to spare me what might be in Snape's letter, probably just some insults about my marks and wanting me for detention. Within Dumbledore's letter he told me that there was an opportunity within a few weeks I can sigh up for apparition lessons if I felt the need to learn something they don't teach in classes.

I thought about it and decided that it would probably be nice to know how to travel without spending money and whatnot. I then opened Snape's letter, but before I could read past the first two words, which were Dear Ms. Jones, Dumbledore's owl snatched it out of my hands and flew out my window.

"Hey! What the hell?!" I leaned out the window to see where it headed and it went right to his office I cursed yet again under my breath and Snape's owl landed right next to me on the window frame and hooted at me. It flew off back to the Owlery and it was at that point that the day of boredom and chasing after Snape into the Dark Forest was really starting to catch up to me and I was ready to sleep.

**** Sometime within the night ****

I found myself awake in my dorm and a deep feeling in my chest that I needed to get out of the common room and wait for someone. I don't know who, but my heart was pounding in fear, but also something else. I couldn't tell what it was, but had to have been the driving force to me jumping out of bed and barely even landing my feet on the stairs to get out of the common room. As soon as I entered to cold, dark hallway outside of the Slytherin house, my feet stopped themselves. I could not tell you what I was feeling, but it felt right to run to the potions classroom, something felt wrong. My heart seemed to feel shattered, but I hadn't gone through something that would make me feel this way so I had come to the conclusion that this must be a vision of some sort or maybe something that I was being told to avoid. Sometimes the castle ghosts or different spirits would show me things that they knew would happen as a warning or something rather.

While thinking about what this dream could mean I found myself running through the dark halls, sometimes hitting a wall if I really wasn't paying attention. Soon I found the classroom and had the feeling that I needed to run inside and find or stop whoever was in there, I stopped myself to think first and to also prepare myself for what I might find. It could be me dying or someone I love, or it could have something to do with death eaters since they seem to be more active this time of the year, soon I found myself pushing open both doors and seeing nobody in the room, it looked like it was set ready for a class to start brewing some potions, but something in the back of my head told me to not take one step in the room. I knew that whatever I was being told through this dream wasn't going to have me stop them from showing me the warning so as I stopped myself from taking another step I felt a push on my lower back sending me a few feet into the room with nothing in it. I was confused for a bit then I jumped when the doors closed very quickly behind me slamming shut and making me turn around.

As I looked to see what could've caused them to close I saw Snape standing in the corner watching me with his wand out. Anything could happen to me and this could be anytime within the future, it could be right when I wake up, near the end of the year or maybe years from now. He slowly pointed his wand at me and suddenly I felt myself be pulled from my body so I could watch what will happen, this normally happens when the spirits don't want me to mess up their warning.

"I don't want to do this to you Emily, but I have to."

"What are you talking about Severus?" I said in a very stern voice clearly shaken up by something that had happened before this moment and I saw his eyes start to form tears.

"You know that this is how it has to be." He pointed his wand right at my head and was trying to make it seem like whatever he was talking wasn't affecting him, but with the tears in his eyes, it couldn't confuse me. I stepped forward and started to say that made more sense to me now that I was listening in to the conservation future me and Snape were having.

"You can't do this Sev, please!" Now I could hear my own voice cracking as I started to cry.

"We can't do this Emily, it's not right."

"I know you don't care about that, please Severus don't do this to me!" I was now shouting at him and my chest started to get heavier and heavier with pain that I wasn't familiar with.

"We can't be together Ms. Jones. I'm too dangerous for you to be around." Now I was finally catching on to what was happening.

'How far in the future is this?' I asked the spirit who was standing behind me watching my vision with me.

'Only a few months from now, please pay attention. This could change your life if you don't understand what you need to change in the next few months of your life.' I looked back at both of the crying people in front of me. Tears were now flowing down my face and I was begging Snape to stop whatever he was about to do.

"Emily, please don't do that, we have no choice."

"Sev, what makes you think that erasing my memory will make things better?! We've both been broken before, let me help you!"

"No!" He stumbled on his next few words as he realized that future me recoiled back to his loud demand.

"Being around me will get you killed, I can't have another person I love fall fate to death by Voldemort." In that moment things started to slow down like you would see in a movie to make things more intense, I jumped at him to grab his wand, but I was too late. Soon a light blue almost clear burst of colour came out of the end of Snape's wand and had hit my head. Then after a couple of seconds the tears stopped flowing and I dropped to the ground unconscious. Snape bent down and brushed my hair out of my face and kissed the top of my head. Soon he picked me up and that's where everything stopped.

**** 10am the next morning ****

My eyes opened to the bright light coming through my window and the sound of tapping on my window. I groaned out loud when I noticed it was Dumbledore's owl probably going to lecture me about not eating at breakfast like he would sometimes. I let the owl in and gave him a biscuit again just like last night. I took the letter from his beck and frowned at him.

"Why did you have to take that letter hmm?" He tilted his head and me and then flew off my window. I sighed opening up the wrapped parchment and only read the few words that were written down which said,

Dear, Ms. Jones,

Please come down to my office as soon as you get this.

Also, Pitts told me that he was getting sick of having to feed you about an hour after breakfast so please try to get to The Great Hall on time.

Best Regards,

Dumbledore

I sighed and honestly was planning on telling his owl to drop it in the Black Lake, but in my head it felt important to go to so I just decided to burn it.

"Ugh, why does he have to know about everything I do in this place." I got out my wand and cast a spell to make the paper float and then watched it as it turned into charcoal then I got into the shower and put on some basic grunge clothes and headed to the Headmaster's office, not even going to go to get food this time and maybe upset Dumbledore a bit more now that I'm not showing up on time, but I'm not even eating. I laughed to myself as I got to his office, but before I could knock on the door, I heard him talking to someone very faintly then some yelling from Snape which I honestly don't think anyone could miss, and then back to the faint voice of Dumbledore probably trying to convince him that something to do with the death eaters isn't a problem when it most likely is. I leaned my ear against the door to listen in, but I didn't get much information when Dumbledore said,

"Well if you're looking for some company I believe some has just arrived. Come in Emily." I slowly opened the door and walked in saying to myself, but loud enough that they both could hear me.

"Well, that's a little creepy." Dumbledore smiled and Snape just took a step or two back from his desk as I got closer to talk to him.

"You know I was very tempted to just throw away your letter and say I never got it." He picked up his wand, moved it in some kind of cycle shape and said something very faintly under his breath and we watched as the paper I had burned not too long ago somehow un-burned its self and was in perfect condition. I stood there feeling like he was mocking me in some way just to get at my nerves, but I didn't let it show on my face, I also saw Snape shuffle a bit before Dumbledore spoke again.

"Well, it actually has to do with you two." He said placing his gaze on Snape. I couldn't help, but connect this moment to something in my vision from last night. He then looked back at me.

"I don't know if you had read the letter Professor Snape sent you last night, but I-" I very quickly cut him off by saying,

"No, I didn't even get past my name when your owl snatched it out of my hands and flew away."

"Oh, I see, well I did read it on my own time last night and-"

"I thought you said that basic letters don't need to be checked, and any teacher letters to students have no need to be checked," Snape said crossing his arms as he hid in the shadows of the Headmaster's office. I was confused as to why he was reacting this way, but honestly I have had this kind of response also to Dumbledore when he just takes something that was meant for something else and then moves around either is own rules or words that have come straight from your own mouth, kind of pissing you off in the moment.

"Well, if we are here to talk about what was in the letter, don't you think that it might be a good idea for me to read it?"

"Oh, no there will be no need, I have already disposed of it." Snape frowned and said back with words that I would use in this case,

"Didn't you just bring back a burned letter from thin air?" Dumbledore was trying to find the fact that he had messed up with that one, but found a way around it.

"That letter was written by me, therefor it wasn't hard to track-"

"Okay, whatever, it doesn't matter, I'm sure both of you can just tell me instead of being so cryptic about it, which by the way has made me very curious as to what was in that letter, and I won't give up until I hear about it." I too crossed my arms looking at Dumbledore and waited for him to respond. He leaned forward on his desk like he was about to tell me and Snape was glaring at him as I had never seen him do before. If any words came out of some mouth I was afraid he was going to jump at him.

"It wasn't my own written letter and not mine to share, so if Severus would like to tell you about what was in that letter, that is his choice. And with that I think it is time for tea, care to join? Either of you?" Dumbledore sat back in his chair and waved a pot of tea over and poured himself a cup.

"Oh no Professor, I'm more then alright, I have some things to attend to, like that book you lent me," I said turning around to leave his office trying not to keep begging about what was in the letter.

"Alright then, Severus? Would you like some?" He said offering him an already filled cup.

"No Headmaster, I'm quite alright as it is." He got out of the office faster than I could, passing me before I had even got to the door and he basically ran down the stairs. I stopped myself knowing that now might be a good time to ask Dumbledore a good question.

"Sir, if you don't mind me asking, was anything in the letter really that important to call us both here?" He raised an eyebrow at me and then smiled as he said,

"Yes, everything in the letter has a great deal to Professor Snape, and I think it is best if you try not to push it out of him. Getting any kind of information out of him unless he trusts you is not easy and can end badly. If he wishes to tell you, it will take some time since I already seemed to have messed up this chance to tell you." I nodded slowly at his words and quickly said my thanks to him as I left his office. I wasn't normally one to be confused or spend time around the professors here at Hogwarts, so this was something very new for me and strangely enough every time I think about that letter, I think that maybe the fact that I didn't get to read it leads me away from the bad vision I had, but probably not for long.

For the next few days nothing had happened, I hung out with some Slytherin friends, Dumbledore seems to be getting angry at me for not eating breakfast and only staying in my room for most of the day, and of course, the Weasley twins have pulled some pretty good pranks on Filch or Flitwick. Today I had decided that since everyone was having fun on Christmas Eve it might be a good idea to head down to Hogsmeade and maybe spend some time at the Hogshead and see my good ole friend fire whiskey again. I put on some winter clothes and made my way down the snow-covered trail and was happy to see that the place was basically empty from a couple of adults who actually lived in the area. I walked into the bar and ordered a large glass of fire whiskey I wasn't planning on getting drunk, but tipsy was alright. After a glass or two I noticed someone sit down beside me and it was Snape. He also got a fire whiskey which he downed like it was nothing and ordered another about to down it as well until I said,

"Do you drink that for the taste or does it make you drunk faster?" He stopped drinking the toxic mixture and placed it down next to mine looking over to me and asked me,

"Aren't you too young to be here drinking?" Trying not to take that as an insult I answered his question,

"Well in America we are actually kept in school a lot longer than here in Europe so technically if I was back home, yes, but here no, I'm about two years older then anybody else in my year. I actually just turned 20 with my birthday, but honestly, I was already drinking before I even hit 16." I took a big drink from my glass and Snape kept asking questions and I kept answering them, most of them were about life as a witch in America where they don't really feel the need to be nice to women let alone in the magic world over there. That's one of the reasons my family moved over here and it has been a lot better for everyone, well, maybe Filch could live without me. About an hour past of us asking each other questions and I could tell that the only reason that we were actually talking to each other was the alcohol that made us both way bolder to talk to each other than normal. As I stood up to go the bathroom some older man walking by grabbed my ass and gave it a good slap, which in return sent a shock wave to my brain telling my hands to make a fist and aim for his head, hitting right on his jaw. I couldn't tell you why that happened, but maybe you can figure out why. I pushed him down to the ground and kneeled down to him, still very tipsy, and said,

"The next time you mess with a woman it might just be the end of their wand casting a curse upon you." He grunted and slapped me across the face and stood up as I rubbed the numbing flesh on my face ready to throw fists with this perv.

"Well, maybe you women should spend some time cooking instead of wasting your time on the man's job." That was it, this man was already in for it hitting my tipsy ass, but now I felt completely sobered up and ready to put this man in his place. A spell would be too easy for him so I gave Snape my wand and rushed this guy sending us both flying over a table knocking over other people drinks and angering those drunk people which lead into a brawl that I was gladly starting. Soon many people were fighting for no reason really they just starting throwing fists. The guy I had punched earlier had tried to hit me over the head with a chair, but I caught it and pulled it from him and jabbed him with it then threw it away hitting someone else in the head. Then I put all of my energy into my arm and throw my fist straight into his jaw causing it to crack or maybe that was my hand. Anyway, after that, I felt a hand grab me by my shoulder and pull me out of the bar. I didn't realize how much I was breathing and grabbed my hand which was now bleeding from the fighting I was doing and it was nearly impossible to ignore the pain that was deep my wrist. I heard the door slammed behind me and I turned around to see Snape sighing at seeing my stat and he handed me my wand which I slid back into my boot. He started to walk back to the castle and I followed him on his side. We didn't talk for a good minute or two, but when I winced in pain and brought my bloody and sore hand up into sight Snape stopped and grabbed his wand out looking at my hand he said,

"Let me heal that for you." I moved my hand closer to his and he very gently held it and quietly cast a healing spell and poured a potion on it to stop the bleeding. I was so shocked that he was so calm and gentle with the wounds that I asked him,

"Why not be a doctor instead of a teacher dealing with children?" He kept focused on my wounds as he mended them and then responded with,

"I said that I would do anything for Dumbledore if he protected-" He cut himself off and continued with,

"Never mind why, but I probably wouldn't fit in a hospital environment." He looked down to see that he was still holding my hand and pulled it away from me quickly. He then looked at me in whole and said,

"You forgot your jacket back there. Here, take my cloak." He wrapped it around me, making me feel a little odd, but I put it aside and said to him,

"There is no way you can say that when you just fixed my probably broken and bloody wrist." He shrugged and started to walk again slipping his hands in his pockets. We walked back to the school in a good, nice silence that was honestly quite calming and I could tell that neither of us were tipsy anymore and I think he was starting to realize his behaviour when he was tipsy and was starting to act sterner and not fun or friendly like earlier, but he wasn't talking. It showed in his walking and posture for sure. By the time we hit the courtyard he stopped, turned to me and said in a nicer manner than I thought he would,

"I noticed that your marks in Potions and DADA are a little lower than past years, so, if you maybe want some help, I can take some time for you to practice in the potions room." I was a little taken back by this, but I was kinda happy he asked since it was no lie, my marks had been getting worse for the past two months. I smiled up at him and said,

"I'm very happy to take that offer thank you." He nodded and started to walk away at his normal fast pace leaving me alone in the courtyard with the heavy wind blowing which reminded me that I had his cloak, and he left without it. It was probably the better thing to do if I found him and gave it back, but something in me told me to keep it. So I did. Making my way back to the common room I found myself thinking about the professor a lot and sometimes I would have to snap myself out of some deep thoughts. It was just so easy to remember the warmth coming from his hand as my hand was cold with blood, and how gentle he was at placing his cloak over my shoulders willing to be cold just so I, the stupid girl who started a bar fight, didn't have to be. I made it back to the common room without any mishap, but I didn't even realize that some students might question why I was sitting on the couch reading a book with a cloak that was clearly way too big for me. I realized hadn't it might look weird or suspicious of something to others that this clearly wasn't mine and you could really tell it wasn't mine since I don't wear normal witch clothes unless it is completely needed like class, but then I still wear something grunge-like, maybe a choker or something. So this was in no way normal and I didn't notice until Murphy sat down beside me and asked me about it.

"Oh... well... It's nothing to worry about." It was very clear that he wasn't convinced and honestly, it wasn't that good because even I frowned at my response.

"Okay, well if there is a random bad boy that fits your status that you are suddenly with, I wanna hear about it." I nodded as he left me alone and I took that as my queue to get out of the common room before more people see and start to spread rumours about who's cloak it is. Once I got to my dorm I continued to read on the book Dumbledore let me use and tried to practice some easy things, but after about an hour of that, no luck. I sighed and fell down on my bed looking up at the plain roof of my room. I was once told by my parents that if you are trying to learn some new magic it is best to have a clear mind and ever since I started reading this book nothing has been sticking in my head. I didn't think that my mind was clouded with anything, but then as I grabbed the corner of Snape's cloak that I was still wearing It clicked with me. Ever since I got this book something to do with him has been in the way. That's why I can't do even do simple spells that I should be able to do if I've been reading it every night. Snape was getting in my way of learning this magic, and honestly, I wasn't wrong. Since that vision, everything that I do, every thought, seems to come back to him.

"Fuck me." Was the last thing I said before I ended up taking an afternoon nap. I didn't get another vision, but all throughout the night randomly I would hear Snape's voice and I could see him in front of me, most things were memories of us walking about to the castle today. Being a very light sleeper dreams came pretty quickly and even though I can't help it sometimes I wish I could just be able to sleep through a huge thunderstorm, but with my luck, I will always wake up.

**** Christmas Day ****

I woke up and heard people talking down stairs about something and I wasn't too happy that the screaming first and second years that got to stay here had already ruined my day by waking me up at... wait, what time is it? I glanced over to the clock on the wall and saw that it was 5 am. The sun hadn't even begun to shine on the lake yet. I mumbled some swear words to myself and put on some basic black muggle clothes. Before I left my room though through my mirror I saw Snape's cloak lying on one of the chairs in my room. I thought about grabbing it, but I remembered how Murphy reacted yesterday and decided that it probably wasn't a good idea to bring it out, even if my instincts told me to, I went without it. I made my way out of the dorm halls and to the common room where if any of them decided to be loud around me I would tell them to shut up and stop freaking out about getting gifts. Christmas isn't even about getting gifts, people have just turned it into stupid fun happy sit down with family thing only a little while ago. Before it was about drunk people crashing parties that happened in the woods, in the middle of the night. And then it was about people in lower-class incomes breaking into stores and causing riots, this clearly isn't the Christmas we have now and my parents aren't ones to celebrate and honestly, I'm completely fine with that knowing that the real Christmas was actually probably a lot more fun than it is now.

By the time I got to the common room, most people were done opening their gifts and just talking as a couple of of sixth years had already yelled at them and left the room without even checking if they got any gifts. I was about to do the same since nobody would ever send me gifts, even my closest friends know that, but before I could take a step past the tree a younger student stopped me by saying,

"Aren't you going to open your present Jones?" I stopped dead in my tracks and looked ot the younger girl who was sitting on the ground and I responded with,

"I don't get presents okay? My family doesn't do Christmas like the rest of you, so they don't send anything." I started to walk again, but before I could leave they spoke again asking,

"But then who left you this one?" I turned around and saw her holding a small gift wrapped in black wrapping paper with some kind of glossy design on it that I honestly couldn't tell what it was. I gently grabbed it from her hand and sure enough, when I read who it was for, my name was on it, but there was no other name telling me who sent it. There was no way it was my parents who sent it, they would never and none of my friends would, hell even Dumbledore knows I don't do Christmas. This was strange indeed and I could tell that everyone in the room was curious so even though I wanted to throw it into the fire, I pulled myself together and opened it very carefully not to rip the paper and underneath it was a plain gray box with two latches that held it closed. I placed it down on a nearby table got ready to open it and as I looked around I saw everyone watching like it was some kind of miracle and it made me chuckle at how easily I could probably make them do things. I slowly opened the box not knowing what could it be, it could be a prank from someone, but my mind was convinced that someone was trying to be nice. When it opened there was a thin sheet of black tissue paper covering whatever was inside and at this point, I was starting to think that it was some kind of jewelry. As I pulled it away everyone seemed to move closer to get a good look so I stopped and said to them,

"Seriously? you don't see me pecking over all of your shoulders when you open something." They all gave a guilty look and went back to their things and started to talk with each other as I opened it without having anyone look at what I got. At the bottom of the box was a lace black choker. At first, I had no idea who could've sent me this gift, but it was obvious after looking at the book that was underneath the choker. The only two people who could've given me an advanced book on potions that weren't taught at Hogwarts were either Dumbledore or Snape. Dumbledore wouldn't just give me this unless I showed a lot of interest in the topic, so that leaves the only person who could've given these things to me which was Snape. We had talked about potions on the way back to the castle and about how I wanted to learn about more potions so it was very clear that he had sent me this gift. The only question is how did he get his hands on this kind of accessory so quickly? He couldn't have been planning on giving this to me weeks before could he? And if he did intend on giving it to me, why? He had never really spoken to me besides telling me my potions were either shit or kind of okay in class. Yesterday was the only time we had talked and we were tipsy off our asses until I started that fight. I couldn't wrap my head around it so I closed the box and put the book on my shelf and threw on my new choker. I knew that it was too early for Christmas breakfast to start, but I had nothing better to do so I threw Snape's cloak on finally not really caring about what people might think and made my way to the Great Hall. Walking through the halls I knew that Filch was probably walking around with Ms. Norris so I had to be careful that he didn't catch me since I wasn't in the mood to deal with him.

As soon as I made it to the Hall there were a couple house elves who were getting ready for breakfast and didn't seem to be bothered by me. I took a seat down right close to the teachers' table and waited for everyone else to get here. After about half an hour most of the teachers had arrived and were watching the small number of students arriving in the Hall probably holding their new presents with them. Right before Dumbledore was about to make his usual Christmas speech Snape came through the back staff door right by his spot and sat down waiting for Dumbledore like the rest of us. Naturally, most students knew that it was him and didn't look up, but for some reason I did and almost right away as he was sitting down we made eye contact, at this point I was gently playing with my gift around my throat which he got me and I guess me touching it brought his attention to the fact that I was wearing it. Not only did I realize that, but I noticed he had a different cloak on today and I was trying hard to remember why and then I felt like a complete idiot wearing his normal cloak that people would probably notice was missing from him and on me. I knew that most people probably just thought I might have had a change in style today, but some people weren't that easy to shoo off, mainly people who didn't like me aka the whole Ravenclaw house.

After a few seconds of me lost in my thoughts I realized that we were still looking at each other and Snape was clearly paying attention to the fact that I still had his cloak on and was wearing it out public. He probably thought that I might be trying to make a scene, but before he could show panic on his face Dumbledore tapped on his glass and was looking right at me and smiled at me. He wasn't that daft so he probably right away noticed the cloak and the fact that it wasn't mine, considering that it was huge on me. I dropped my head trying not to look suspicious about anything and started to play with my choker again clearly that had to be a sign that I was nervous about something, I did that a lot. As Dumbledore spoke I was focused on trying not to make eye contact with him or Snape which was kind of hard, to be honest. I don't think that there is a way to explain how cornered I felt in that moment even though it was the biggest room in the whole school, I felt like everyone was watching me and for once, being a popular student was not fun. My heart started to race and I wasn't sure that my nerves were the problem, but rather the fact that I needed to get out of there. I scanned the room again and locked eyes with Snape, I didn't want to, but it felt like someone was holding my head in his direction and keeping me focused on him. I tried to break free, but I couldn't I knew that this wasn't just me being me, someone was in my head, I could feel them poking around trying to get into my main thoughts. To my surprise, they were very strong and everything around me seemed to fade out like it was only me and my thoughts in the world. I couldn't keep them out forever so I decided if they wanted to hurt me they couldn't get away with it while I was surrounded by people so I let them in. When they were in nothing happened. My body wasn't moving, on its own, I only heard the breathing of someone else which was weird, but then I heard a faint, deep voice ask me,

"Are you alright? You look hyper pale?" I was beyond confused and then decided if they only wanted to ask questions they didn't need to be in my mind so I attacked them with walls to close them off and to my surprise, again, they didn't fight. I blinked my eyes a bit as Dumbledore's voice started to fade back as he spoke the last few words of his speech, everything felt weird at the moment afterwards. I was still looking at Snape who's expression seemed soft, but then as quickly as I saw it, he was back to his normal grumpy self. I took my eyes away from him feeling very odd after that, not really knowing what to do, but eat my food and get out of there. I was still feeling nervous and when I went to grab a piece of toast, I noticed that whoever was talking to me was right. My skin looked like someone just poured bleach all over me, but I didn't let it phase me. I got some food into me and left the Great Hall as soon as I was done, not waiting for any of my friends to follow me. For the next few hours, things felt weird to me and I felt like every time I was outside of my common room someone was trying to get back in my head which kinda freaked me out because no students can use Occlumency so it had to have been an adult, but no teacher in their right mind would do that and also I doubt any teachers are actually as good as this person was, so maybe it was someone who isn't meant to be in the school. That got me worried and I decided that it was probably for the best to let Dumbledore know. He was probably in his office, but just to make sure that I didn't disturb him if he was busy I just decided to send him a letter. It was a very quick one that got straight to the point and wasn't too long.

I wrapped the parchment in a ribbon-like string and gave it to my owl, Honey. She's a tiny barn owl and seems to like to follow me around almost everywhere I go which is nice. I told her to bring it to Dumbledore right away and she flew off my arm and went looking for him. I, on the other hand, decided that it would probably not be a good idea to go back to the Hogshead after yesterday so I decided to go get that book Snape got me and read it outside of the common room so I was away from the lonely first years who only stayed in the common room besides for classes and meals. After finding a good spot against the wall I started to invest my thoughts into the fact about some of the potions that were written in the book. After good 20 minutes into reading about Garrotting Gas, a potion the induces choking and possibly suffocates the taker.

"Damn, that sounds like my kind of potion." Almost right after that Snape happened to walk by and notice that I was reading from his book. He stopped in front of me and watched me as I read before I looked up once I noticed he was there. I smiled at him and he then asked me,

"I see that you're enjoying the gifts I gave you. Which one seems to have caught your eye?"

"The Garrotting Gas, I feel like it's probably something I would use even though I would probably get caught using it, but whatever." He smirked a little bit and waved for me to follow him to his class. I brought the book with me and walked into the classroom after him and placed the book down at my normal desk. Snape went back into the ingredients room so I got the pot ready for potion brewing and soon enough he came out with arms full of different things, some I hadn't seen before which was a little odd. He placed them down in order of use and wrote down the steps on the board which he moved to be in front of me. He then added a small amount of water and slowly started adding the ingredients and preparing them for the potion all while talking and letting me know what things not to do while making this potion like walking away from it. It wasn't one of those potions that need to boil for a while, it was a quick to make potion that could go wrong very quickly if you aren't paying attention.

As he was teaching me about it I was writing down things he told me to remember and as I watched him things seemed to be really nice at the moment. Just him and I brewing a potion that probably could kill us if one thing went wrong. I liked this a lot more than normal class since he is normally yelling at someone, but right now he was being really calm and talked in a very soft voice which I don't think anybody here has heard before. It made me smile at the fact that he was probably happy to teach me something and was happy to see that someone else was just as invested in potions as he was. He seemed to be very focused on the potion at the moment where I had taken a step back and just watched him stir all the ingredients together. At the moment everything seemed to slow down again and fade away just like when that person was in my mind, this time I was calm and didn't even fight back when they got in my head, I just simply asked,

"What do you want?" There was some silence before I heard the voice again this time a lot louder and closer than I thought it was going to be and the voice that I heard in my head made me jump back a bit.

"You seem to be lost in thought," Severus said in my mind. Soon I found my breathing picking up again just like when he did it before, but he tried to calm me down.

"I was shocked to see that you had a natural talent in Occlmency, most students can't do that." I was still acting dumbfounded as he spoke and I think he realized because he then left my mind without saying anything and turned around in front of me just to look at me. I tried not to look so shocked, but it was kind of hard not to when I thought that it was someone bad who was getting into my head when really it was just Severus trying to find the source of the other person who was emitting their talent that I'm sure he had too.

"Are you going to watch me finish the potion?" He said in his soft voice again sounding very different from in my head which caught me a little off guard. I walked closer to him and said,

"Oh, yea." I stood beside him as he finished the potion, but it was hard to stay focused with what just happened. I wasn't as confused as you may think, in fact, it was kind of nice knowing that he seemed to care for me, but then again it was strange. Severus doesn't care for students so either someone is pretending to be him or something extra strange is going on here. I wasn't going to push it, but I knew that Dumbledore could've asked him to be nice to me for something. Then I remembered something Dumbledore told me a couple ago.

"Sir, if you don't mind me asking, was anything in the letter really that important to call us both here?" He raised an eyebrow at me and then smiled as he said,

"Yes, everything in the letter has a great deal to Professor Snape, and I think it is best if you try not to push it out of him. Getting any kind of information out of him unless he trusts you is not easy and can end badly. If he wishes to tell you, it will take some time since I already seemed to have messed up this chance to tell you."

Almost right away it seemed to click with me. Severus was probably trying to tell me something important, maybe about himself or about me, but it wasn't clear at this moment what it would be, but I had a feeling that this was a step closer to what he wanted to tell me. We then put the potion into bottle and as he was cleaning up he asked me to put them away on the top shelf on the right near the other small potion bottle. As I opened the door and climbed up the ladder it became very clear that I had no idea what I was doing.

"Top shelf on the right. Okay, well this is the top shelf on the right, but I don't see any other bottles." After looking for a couple of minutes I think I had found what I was looking for, but it was so far away I thought that I might fall. I honestly probably missed judging the distance and moved onto the far side of the ladder step, stretched out to place it, but the ladder wasn't completely bolted onto the top of the shelf and I lost my balance. For a second I thought that maybe I could just easily center my weight so I could balance, but I was wrong. My foot slipped and I was falling from the highest part of the ladder. I let out a small screeched but found myself not on the hard floor, but in someone's arms. Not to my surprise Severus was the one who caught me and had a smile on his face when I looked at him, he said to me,

"I knew something was wrong when it started to take you more than a couple minutes to put them away." I could feel my face become very flush and there was no way that I could hide it from him. I knew that he was watching me even when I wasn't looking and I was a little shocked as to why he still had me in his arms bridal style and I think that he noticed and walked out of the closet doorway to set me down in front of his desk. Once he did he pulled his hands away from me pretty quickly and put them in his pockets, I knew that he would hate to hear this, but he definitively turned a bit pink at the cheeks. He leaned in towards me, but only to grab the book he had gifted me that was on my left. As he was leaning though I could smell this cologne and it was something that I probably would have found attractive on a guy and... wait did I really just say that? Ugh, what is happening to me?

Once he moved away from me my thoughts were back to normal, but I could tell that he weren't. He seemed to be lost looking at my face. He then locked eyes with me and for a few seconds nothing happened, then he moved a fraction closer and everything seemed to become sharper, the iris' of his eyes lit up with colour, I could sense his body heat, and the stitches of his robes became more detailed. My heart rate seemed to slow with everything around me and I found myself drawn to his lips more than anything and it looked like he was drawn to mine. Within a few seconds, we both seemed to move closer causing our lips to collide. It was almost like I had just jumped off a cliff and was still falling, all my thoughts seemed to close around this one moment. Soon he brought his right hand up to my cheek and hid a few fingers behind my ear drawing me ever so closer to him. I then found my body jolt with energy and soon my hands shot up to grab his hair. He pushed more passionately against my lips causing me to let out a small groan and then picked me up with his strong arms to then set me down onto his desk basically throwing the book away. My heart rate got faster and it seemed as though everything in the world had stopped and it was just him and I again. Nothing mattered more than this one moment. He then placed his hands on my hips and then both of my hands ended up placed on his shoulders gripping at his clothes trying to get him as close to me as possible. Everything started to get more intense and Severus started to get rough with me, but honestly, with me pulling at his hair, I was happy to have his lips crash violently against mine. Soon we had both run out of breath and he placed both of his hands on either side of me as I kept mine around his neck gently resting there as we took in some heavy breaths. He leaned his forehead against mine for a bit until he said,

"I don't think I've ever been this excited in a long time." I took in some deep breathes and decided that teasing him might be fun.

"I don't think anyone else could make me this excited," I said with a smirk planted on my face and grabbing his hips moving him closer to me. He smirked back at me and said back to me,

"I'm glad you like my gift." He placed his hand over the choker, moved my head back so my neck was exposed and was about to put press his lips on my neck when we heard someone slowly opening the door. I hopped down off of his desk quicker than I think I've ever moved out of the way of a rogue blugder. Madam Pomfrey slowly came through the door peeking her head in to see if anyone was in the room and as soon as she saw me she came into the room.

"Sorry if I interrupted your detention, but I was wondering, Severus, do you have any extra fairy wings?" He cleared this throat and before he could say anything I took that as my queue to go.

"Well, I think it's past my detention time, and Dumbledore said he wanted to see me around before lunch so I better head up there. Thanks for keeping me captive for a couple of hours Snape. Peace." I walked out of the classroom holding up my fingers in a peace sign and closed the door behind me. I let out a long sigh and leaned against the door trying to calm my nerves about what just happened. Then I decided maybe it was time to head back to my dorm and take a nap. I knew that what just happened with Severus wouldn't be the only time. I bet that over the next few days we would be seeing each other a lot more and I knew that he was going to try and get into my head more and more often, hopefully not distancing himself from me.

Any requests?

[hydralisk98]

The Imaginary World of ______ by Keri Smith (Module 0x000; aka the database)

Brainstorm:

The Alchemist

pfsrd

D&D 5e

Loups-Garous de Thiercelieux

UNO & DOS

XXIIVV’s Paradise & “Parade”

Portal 2

Portal Stories: Mel

Half-Life as of Epistle 3

Alien

Pokemon

A bag full of apples

Winnie the Pooh (Soviet Union)

Alternate futures and histories from other planets

Mark Rosenfelder

Sabaton

Rammstein

Eminem

Beatles

Neumond Recordings

Bee Gees

Black Sabbath

EU4 OST

Hans Zimmer

Kenji Kawai

Christian Clermont

Disco

Xerox

Commodore

IBM

DEC

HP

60s-70s Quebec’s cultural revolution

Windows 3.11

1910-1925 era

World War 1 and resulting civil war type of conflicts

Wolfenstein: the New Order

Retrocomputing culture

Soviet cartoons

History

Enlightenment eras (~1755 onward)

Socrates, Plato, Aristotle aka philosophy as a rational discipline

Subliminals community

Plushies’ textures

Moderate socialism

Central europe’s rural areas

Nineveh

Nimrud

S-expressions

Lisp programming languages

Assembly

ALGOL

C

Julia

Python

Rust

British Colombia climate

Montreal and its suburbs

Wien

Paris

Villages/Towns

Turkish Angora Cats

Tigers

Bears

Lizards

Insects

Ancient Mesopotamia’s wardrobes

Old china culture

Japanese Meiji Imperial Era

Symbols

Latin

Ancient Greek

Old Assyrian

Sumerian

Proto-Celtic

Breton

Proto-Uralic

Hungarian

French

German

Portuguese

Spanish?

English?!

Building blocks

Autism

Calm noise soundscape

Keycaps’ typing sounds

Old computers’ sounds

Beavers

Furrets

2000s cartoons

Adult Swim

Underground cultures

Goths

Wicca

Grunge

Vintage

Dumb terminals

Pocket calculators

Home computers

Old mainframes

AI service grid

The two first “Indochina” wars

Memes

Gen Z

Text adventure games

Telex

COMECON trade

Medieval intellectuals

ZX Spectrum

IRC chatrooms

MU* games

Top down grand strategy games and rogue-like RPGs

Nuclear warfare

PDP-8

PDP-11

PDP-15

VAX

Robotron

Zachtronics TIS-100

Sid Meier’s Civilization V

Paradox Interactive’s Europa Universalis III & IV

Hypnospace Outlaw

Pen & paper games

4D toys

Baba Is You

Terraria

Counter-Strike

Call of Duty World at War

Kerbal Space Program

The Stanley Parable

Quake/Half-Life 1

Rene Magritte

Dwarf Fortress

Sandstorm

Powerwolf

Dragonforce

Manowar

Minecraft

Open source community

Linux Mint

Debian

KDE

Solaris

FreeBSD

FreeDOS

Inferno OS

Plan 9

Rudy

Amber

Olive green

Sea blue

Salamanders

Groundhogs

Abstract syntax trees of lexers and compilers

Oracles

Wizards

Shapeshifters

Sea fleets

Land armies

Modern warfare

Guerrilla culture

Kriegsmarine

Wehrmacht

Superheroes

Rationality

New age spiritualities

Polished wood

Chiptune

Fresh winter cold air smell

Garfield

Boxes

Cardboard

Papercrafts

Plastic 3D prints

Words of wisdom

Angels

Zen

Chi-Nu Kai tank

0.0 Wilson, 0.4 Taft, 0.6 Theodore

Colonialism

WW1 Triplanes

Elves

Fantasy Dwarves

Fantasy Tieflings

Fantasy Gnomes

Fantasy Golems

Morphological Freedom

Transhumanism

Extremely far future time-travelling peoples

Aliens

Droids and Synthetics

Sylvans

Linguistics

Geopolitics

LISP 1.5

Shell scripts

Demoscene

Terminator

X-Men

Planet of the Apes

300

Men in Black

The Addams Family

The Matrix

The Hunger Games

Da Vinci Code

16^12+1988 aka the 0x10c Mojang’s cancelled game

[...]

[andytfish]

FREELANCE GUiDANCE: A 10 Part Series - #3 Setting Up Work Parameters

One of the benefits of Freelancing is the FREEDOM but sometimes too much freedom leads to disorganization and chaos.  Possibly the biggest challenger a Freelancer faces is the ability to be his own boss-- with no one constantly over your shoulder, no fear of a walk thru by the uppity mucks there's plenty of opportunity to slack off, and that will kill your career.

1. ESTABLISH YOUR WORK HOURS - This should be a "general" guide because as I've already covered sometimes creativity cannot be caged. Sometimes that great idea or inspiration comes at 2 in the morning rather than at 9. Everyone is different and this is a find your way kind of rule. During a week of working freelance take occasion to jot down notes of the time and productivity-- you'll likely see a pattern emerge. In my own case I like to get an early start but seldom do. But after years of study I've discovered my peak productivity blocks in the day- 5am-8am and 2pm to 10pm. We'll get into this a bit further below.

2. ESTABLISH A WORK AREA - This is the BIGGEST key for me. I don't allow my work to spread out all over the house. I work ONLY in my studio space. The entire third floor of my house is my office area. It houses my computers, drawing tables, easels, supplies and reference material. I DON'T spend ANY time in there NOT working. You wouldn't drive to your corporate office job so you can search eBay would you? I treat my work area with the same respect.

3. KNOW WHEN A JOB IS NOT THE RIGHT FIT - It’s hard when you're just starting out to turn down a job, but sometimes (especially early on) things come along that are not right for you. I can't draw cute. I can't. Bunnies might start KIND OF cute but eventually they're going to look depraved. It's not in my makeup. Early in my career I would have taken that gig and kept at it killing myself and doing four times the work to make it right for the client. Now I know better. You turn down the WRONG job so you're available when the RIGHT job comes along.

4. DEADLINES TRUMP EVERYTHING - My kids from an early age knew the phrase "Dad's on a deadline" -- which meant I'm a phantom that might pop up out of my studio 2-3 times a week. The Deadline is the thing. I don't miss deadlines. This should not be your every week routine— you need to have a life, but those deadline crunch times are special circumstances.

5. SET UP PRODUCTIVITY - Da Vinci used a similar schedule and I've found this works; 45-90 minute working sessions with breaks in between makes me MUCH more productive.

LET'S GET A LITTLE FURTHER IN-DEPTH to my talking points

1- Establishing Your Work Hours-- I would suggest you even buy yourself an OPEN/CLOSED sign that you can put outside your workroom door.  It doesn't have to be a fancy neon one, it can be a simple cardboard one.  In my studio I use to blowmold ghosts that sit at the edge of my desk-- when they're on I'm working.  It not only lets other people know you're "at work" it gets yourself into the right frame of mind.

Share your working hours with significant others.  Let them know you're going to be struggling to "work from home" and you'll need their help.  They wouldn't walk into your office on Park Avenue with your co-workers all around and your boss down the hall clutching the light bill and saying we need to talk about that neon beer sign you must have on 24 hours a day-- they would wait until you're home from work, and just because work is now home there should be no difference.

They need to understand that work from home does NOT mean you don't work.  It does not mean every elderly relative can expect you to shuttle them around to doctor appointments, it doesn't mean you're instantly the chaperone at juniors Zoo trip.  YOU ARE STILL WORKING just AT HOME.

You’ll need to decide if you are going to follow a standard Monday-Friday work week or will you take Mondays and Tuesdays off?  Resist the urge to not take days off because money is coming in. I strongly advocate days off for your own mental health.   It's easy to swing the opposite direction in Freelance and work 24/7.

One of the first things I wanted when I went Freelance was weekends off.  After years of working in retail I never got to enjoy them.  In retail I had every Sunday and Wednesday off.  SPLIT days-- and I was looking forward to two together.  It seemed like a dream to me.

The downside to being off weekends is so is everyone else.  So those Wednesday trips to the bank or the post office I used to make were a breeze compared to trying to go on Saturday morning.

Now, I schedule days off (and to be honest A Day Off) the week I'm working.  It allows me to better balance projects.  And being completely honest, I LOVE working freelance, sometimes taking a day off is like punishment.  But even on the weeks I don't take a day off I take a morning off, or an afternoon, or an evening-- that works for me.  Starting out-- I'd give yourself at least one day off each week as you're figuring out what works for you.

How About Holidays?   That seems like a no-brainer until you're on that big project and it's due Dec 27th and using the Organizational skills I set up for you in Session 1 you realize you're behind.   Suddenly you have a virtual scale in front of you held by Santa Claus with family and friends on one side and the client on the other.

Deciding up front that it's a hard and fast rule that you won't work CERTAIN holidays is a concession I made right away.   I don't work on Christmas-- in fact I don't work two days BEFORE Christmas and I don't work the week FOLLOWING Christmas up through to Jan 2nd.  I don't.  Nope, not gonna do it.

Why?  I like Christmas and it's a holiday I look forward to.    I work extremely hard up to Dec 22nd but truth be told Christmas is VERY Slow in Freelance because most clients aren't thinking about projects either.  So a studio shut down is perfectly acceptable.

But the OTHER 99 holidays on the calendar?  They are all up for grabs.  I don't work the night of my wife's Birthday and I keep the schedule light during the day-- but other than Xmas, New Years and my Wife's Birthday I will work any other holiday even at the drop of a hat.

Knowing this helps me keep the stress level down.  My family knowing this keeps them from asking me why I'm not coming to the Memorial Day cookout, or the Patriots Day party. 

2. Establish a Work Area - My wife has her own studio on another floor of the house.  We meet daily for Breakfast and Lunch which is a nice break.  Her studio is very zen.  Very few things, a handful of books, some sparse furniture and warm inviting lights with some inspirational artwork hanging prominently around the room.  Mine is the polar opposite of Zen.  It's loaded like a High School locker.  There is not an inch of space on my walls or shelves that is not filled with comics, posters, original art, toys, action figures, vintage japanese vinyl toys, a lifesize Frankenstein, an Adam West Batman Cowl, a Nicholas Hammond Spider-Man Mask a Tony the Tiger display head, Darth Vader mask, more toys, more art more action figures and did I mention Books?  Libraries come to me to borrow things.  There are THOUSANDS of books.

I love the kinetic cluttered energy it gives off.  At Christmas time I decorate Frankenstein with colored lights.  The rest of  the year Halloween Lights hang in my studio.  It's my own personal Batcave-- all I'm missing is a British Butler walking in with coffee and scones every forty five minutes.

But that space works for me.  It gets me juiced up and ready to work.

That's how you need to set YOUR space.  When you're just starting out you may have to incorporate a drawing or work area in another room because of space restraints.  When I was first starting out in a one bedroom studio my bed was three feet from my drawing table.  It made for some tough nights sleeping because it was hard to "turn off" working mode in the same room.

Regardless of space, make some for yourself.  I have a good friend whose first studio space was a medium sized closet.  It was actually kind of cool-- you had to climb in like a race car but once you were encased in the environment like a man piloting a lunar shuttle to the moon you were ready to work.

The point is to make this space YOUR work inspiration-- so make it a place you WANT to spend time in.

3. Know when a Job is NOT the Right Fit - Easy to say when you're established.  You're going to take pretty much any job that comes along at first, and that's okay.  Sometimes you don't even know the job isn't right for you until you're doing it. When we get to PART 5: GETTING PAID SON we'll look at how to budget for these types of jobs so at least you're getting paid well for something that isn't a fit.

Let's assume that despite your portfolio of Goth Animals someone comes to you thinking you'd be perfect for that highly detailed photo accurate oil painting of Grandma.  That's not a good fit for you, you know it, they don't.  But the light bill is due and there's not a lot else coming in right now so you're thinking hard about taking it.   It's a fork in the road decision:

A. You take it and spend HOURS upon HOURS resisting the urge to give grandma dark undereyes and floppy ears. If you went with this option the biggest advice I can give you is do a lot of research and spend a LOT of time warming up. Look at portraits, look at Presidential Portraits and study the brush strokes. Grab your favorite sketchbook and some colored pencils and get to an art museum and do some sketching of the portraits in the collection. Get your head ready for the project and then give it your best shot.

B. Pass on it and recommend a friend you know who would be a better fit, earning Karma points from the friend and freeing yourself up for that job that WILL fit. Spend the downtime Marketing yourself (also coming up in the series) which is a better expenditure of your time and resources.

4. Deadlines Trump All - All my rules of work parameters combined with the skills I imparted in the ORGANIZATION session should lead you to a point where you don't have to work overtime, but in the real world we know that occasionally that IS going to happen.  If you find yourself CONSTANTLY working overtime on projects re-evaluate your working methods and see if you are actually being productive or if you're wasting a lot of time.

5. SetUp Productivity - The eight hour workday became the norm at the turn of the last century and pretty much has been the standard ever since.  This method goes back LONG before that to the days of Leonardo Da Vinci who often used this seemingly odd method to accomplish the amazing array of achievements he did over the course of his life. 

It's simple-- you work in 45-90 minute sessions with breaks in between.  During the session you do NOTHING but work.  You don't answer the phone if it rings (that's why Voicemail was created) you don't check your email.  You don't jump on IMDB to see who was the actor inside Darth Vader's suit (it was Dave Prowse, body builder and former Frankenstein actor).  YOU WORK.  Because SO much of our day is actually filled with distraction.  That's OK if you work for SNIDELY WHIPLASH INDUSTRIES who is paying you a fat check to work 30% of the time, as a Freelancer you only get paid for the hours you actually WORK.    Novel concept isn't it?  It's the price you pay for being your own boss.

This is best accomplished either by setting up a PLAYLIST running the allotted time, or by streaming an episode of a TV series or even setting an alarm clock.  Give it a try-- WORK for the allocated time and THEN take a break of 15-30 mins (also timed) to check your mail, return phone calls, do whatever-- you will be AMAZED at how this works if you can really be disciplined about it.

NEXT WEEK: LIVE WITHIN YOUR MEANS -- it's the difference between eating and not.

Andy Fish is a freelance artist and writer who has been living the lifestyle longer than there has been an iPhone on this planet.  The advice given has worked for him, it might work for you, he hopes it does.  But like all advice, take it with your own situation in mind.  If you want to contact him shoot him an email andy@andytfish.com

[liiacsuns]

Carry On Countdown, DAY 7.

Day 7, DEC 1: Your favourite trope

“He got in a fight again,” says Penny one day while we’re studying in the library. She’s the only one who’s studying really, but I like being here with her.

“What are you talking about?” I ask

“Baz. He got in a fight again. First time in a while.”

“Oh that. I know, I was there,” I answer with a shrug and she starts freaking out.

“What? Why? Wait nothing happened to you, right?”

“Of course not Penny, I would have told you. I just saw it happen when I was going back home, nothing much really.”

“Oh, I see. Do you know why?” she asks.

“Why would I? I don’t talk to Baz, and I couldn’t exactly ask the other guy why he got beaten up, could I?”

“True. I’ll ask Trixie, I’m pretty sure she’ll know. She always knows this kind of stuff.”

“I thought you didn’t want to talk to her?” I say, remembering all the times she complains about her roommate.

“I can do an exception for our local punk. I want to know what got him back into fighting,” she says with a smirk.

“And I’m the one obsessed,” I sigh.

“Oh shut up you know you were. And don’t tell me you’re not curious too”

“Actually I’m not. I honestly don’t care about why Baz got into a fight, unless it’s with me. And it wasn’t with me, so I’m not going to complain. Now please, can we go back to studying?”

“You’re not even doing it, you spent the last hour staring out the window,” she teases with a laugh, but goes back to studying.

     Penny wasn’t the type to listen to gossips before we got into college, but now she kind of does, especially when it’s about Baz. He’s in our year, tall, rich, arrogant. Apparently his style is punk (leather jackets, ripped jeans, piercings, combat boots…) and he’s supposed to be my enemy and to hate me since we first met, two years and a half ago. The first two years, the only interactions we had were to throw insults and snarky comments at each other, and him getting into multiple fights a week, but it stopped at the beginning of this year. And again, I’m not complaining, it was tiring.

     I stay with Penny for one more hour, before leaving the campus to go home. The flat I’m renting is small, not especially the best, but I don’t have a roommate and I’m close to everything, so I deal with it. I’m there in five minutes, and there’s someone waiting in front of my door. Jet black hair, pale as ever, dressed in all black. I smile as he sits up and hugs me from behind while I open the door.

“Penny is really interested about your fight,” I say with a smile.

“Bet she is. What did you tell her?”

“That I witnessed it but didn’t know the reasons behind. And that I don’t care at all,” I answer, laughing.

     I can’t say anything else, I’m in his arms and he’s kissing me slowly, his jacket already on the couch. So fast. I still have my coat and my boots on, and he’s already comfortable, like he’s the one living here. He’s not, even though it sometimes feels like it.

“I like the pink”, he says later, gesturing to my sweater.

“I thought your favorite was the yellow one?” I tease.

“It is, but I like the pink too. And I can’t believe I’m talking about pastel colours and which one is my favorite,” he says with a smile.

“Oh poor Basilton, can’t handle a bit of colour?” I mock.

“Not on me. But on you I don’t mind.”

“That’s really fortunate because I’m not becoming a goth cliché for your pretty eyes,” I end with a laugh, before kissing him again.

     We end up snuggling in the couch watching Stranger Things (I already binge watched the entire season, but I insisted on showing it to him), and it’s a perfect night. We don’t talk about the fight, or Penny, or school, or anything. We don’t have to, and don’t want to. I was actually there when it happened, and I know what happened. He fought with that guy because he was making fun of me (it turns out that wearing only pastels is pretty gay, and people don’t really like it). But I can’t really tell her that, because then I’d have to tell her that actually, Baz doesn’t hate me at all, and that the only thing we fight about is what we’re going to watch or eat.

     It’s not that we’re ashamed or anything. But after two years of hatred and rivalry and all that, it would be too much to deal with, and we don’t really want to. DOing our thing on our own without the world knowing is fine. I kind of like this option more to be honest, there is just the two of us, without people asking questions or trying to learn more about our story and everything. We have our lives, our friends, and we don’t mix them, but at the end of the day he comes over to my place and we have our own little bubble, only the two of us, and that’s perfect.

“Should we tell people about us?” he asks suddenly, staring down at me.

“I don’t know. Do you want to?”

“I’m not sure. I like this, coming here and spending the night with you and all, without having to care about other people. But at the same time it would be nice to be out you know? Like, be able to hold your hand or kiss you in the middle of the library, things like that.”

“We would get kicked out,” I say with a laugh. “But I see what you mean, yeah. Maybe we can start telling people? Like not right now, and not everyone, but tell Penny, and Dev and Niall you know? Go slowly?”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea. The pastel kid and the punk brat. Everyone’s going to freak out.”

“That would make a great movie title,” I joke. “But I don’t really care you know?. I like the punk brat, and you’re not actually a brat when we’re together. So I don’t mind your reputation.”

“Be careful, you’re starting to be sappy,” he laughs, and I flip him off.

#####

     I’m with Penny again, in the cafeteria this time, sitting across from her, trying to listen to what she’s saying as I eat. She’s talking about the last book she read I think, so it’s not that bad that I don’t actually listen. I don’t read, I don’t like it that much. But a few minutes later, I hear Baz’s name, and I suddenly pay attention.

“Wait what?” I exclaim, a bit too loud.

“Are you even listening to me?” she sighs. “I was saying that I still don’t know why Baz got into that fight.”

“Seriously Penny? It’s been like a week, can’t you move on?”

“I told you the same thing for a whole year when you were obsessed with him, you don’t have any right to tell me to move on, okay?”

     I want to protest but she’s right, I was totally obsessed with him last year. I don’t really know why, to be honest.

“I really don’t understand what got you so obsessed with him,” she continues. “I mean, yeah he’s kinda hot and all but still.”

“Okay first of all it wasn’t for his looks. And second, he’s not hot, he’s beautiful, that’s common knowledge.”

“Always so cheesy Snow” I hear Baz say suddenly. I look up and see him standing beside Penny, smirking. “Already cheating on your boyfriend Bunce? Or has the great Simon Snow finally found someone?”

“Oh shut up Baz,” Penny says, irritated.

“Actually we were talking about you,” I say with a smile, and I can’t help but smile even more when I see him slightly blush.

“Me being hot isn’t something new, I thought you both knew that,” he immediately says, and I want to wipe that superior smirk off his face. But that would be inappropriate here.

“Oh we know, that’s what I was saying to Penny. I see you’re still full of yourself,” I joke.

“I always am, you know that,” he answers before leaving, and Penny’s automatically staring at me with wide eyes.

“Okay what was that about? Since when do you guys talk? Or flirt, whatever the hell that was.”

“We have a project to do together for a class,” I say with a shrug.

“You do? Really? Why did you choose him?”

“I didn’t, the teacher made the groups. Turns out we can be together in the same room without being at each other throats.”

“That’s weird. Super weird. But cool I guess, unless you start becoming obsessed with him again.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

“Good.”

     I’m glad she doesn’t ask more questions. I’m not good at lying, especially when I’m lying to her. And I don’t like it, because she’s my best friend, and pretty much my only friend since Agatha left for California.

#####

     It all started with a serious conversation. It’s friday evening, Baz came over and we were talking about telling our friends about our relationship. But now I’m on his lap, neither of us have a shirt on and we’re kissing like there is no tomorrow.

     My hand is in his hair, and he’s tracing abstract patterns on my chest, and I don’t care about breathing, or opening my eyes or anything else, just his tongue in my mouth and his lips against mine. I like when it’s passionate like this. I know that later we’ll both have marks on our necks and collarbones, and he’ll probably curse me tomorrow because “fuck Simon how am I going to hide this, it’s like the size of Texas for fuck sake!”, but right now I honestly don’t care, and judging by the noises he makes when I suck and bite on his skin, he doesn’t either.

     I’m too focused on Baz, on kissing him and making him do that noise again, because fuck, that’s really really hot, and it gets to me every single time. I don’t hear the door opening and someone coming into the living room. I’m too busy kissing the air out of him and almost grinding on him. And suddenly I hear a scream. I immediately pull back, and Penny is here, eyes wide, and I’m breathless, so is Baz, and we’re half-naked, there’s already a few hickeys on his neck, and probably on mine too, and the only thing I find to say is “Oh hey Penny, what are you doing here?”

“Don’t “hey” me Simon Snow. What are YOU doing? Like, both of you,” she exclaims.

“I don’t think a drawing is needed Bunce, is it?” Baz intervenes

“Oh don’t sass me Basilton, we both know I can sass you back. Explain to me what the hell is happening and since when do you guys make out instead of fight.”

“Okay, calm down Pen, we’ll explain. Just- just let us get dressed,” I say, gesturing for Baz to put his shirt back on. He groans, but does it anyway.

     Penny’s sitting opposite of us, her hands folded on her lap, and I can tell she’s listening closely, that she doesn’t want to miss a single word we say. I explain, I know Baz will mess things up if he does, I tell her about how we got together almost three months ago, that we were planning on telling her soon but we wanted to keep our little bubble of safety for a bit more.

“What about that project? Is that a lie too?” she asks

“No, we do have a project together. It’s just that it’s not that one that got us together you know. We already were.”

     She doesn’t take it badly. I know she wouldn’t, but I was afraid she would be mad at me for hiding it. She seems to understand though. She even jokes a little with Baz, and it’s almost surreal. A moment later, I realize that she’s not supposed to be here, and ask her why she came. She wanted to watch Harry Potter with me, but decides to leave us alone to “do our gross things” and goes home about half an hour later.

    As soon as the door closes, I’m on my bed, Baz hovering above me, kissing the hell out of me, and I don’t complain a bit.

Thanks again @blackintheskies !! :3

[toldnews-blog]

New Post has been published on https://toldnews.com/lifestyle/cemetery-was-the-right-vibe-for-a-glamour-goth-wedding/

Cemetery was the right vibe for a glamour goth wedding

Grossan, a music aficionado, and the rock musician Ayers, who has jazz in his blood, aren’t the “wedding factory” types. (Elizabeth Lippman/The New York Times)

Molly Creeden

Just months after they started dating more than two years ago, Ally Jane Grossan and Nabil Ayers felt certain they were headed for marriage, and it was with as much surety that they didn’t want their wedding to feel formulaic and familiar.

“We wanted to get married somewhere that’s isn’t a wedding factory,” said Grossan, a founder of Brooklyn FI, a financial planning firm geared to creatives and tech entrepreneurs in New York. “It’s always the same: a beautiful space, flowers and salmon or chicken, and we just wanted to do something that wasn’t that.”

By many markers, the couple’s evening wedding on Thursday, Dec. 20, in the Masonic Lodge at the Hollywood Forever Cemetery could not be typecast. There was DJ Gregg Foreman — lithe former music director for the musician Cat Power with Joan Jett hair — who played songs by the Cure on the piano. There was the bride’s walk down the aisle with her parents, to the cascading drumbeats of the eerie first bars of “Atmosphere” by post-punk band Joy Division. There was the irrevocable fact that several yards away, entertainment industry legacies — from Mickey Rooney to Johnny Ramone — lay deceased.

“I don’t know why, I’ve always loved cemeteries,” said Grossan, 30. “Père Lachaise in Paris is one of my favorite places; Green-Wood in Brooklyn. I don’t think they’re morbid. I think they’re beautiful.” Ayers, 46, agreed: “It’s like a beautiful park.”

It was at another wedding reception in June 2016 at House of Yes, an events space in Bushwick, Brooklyn, where Ayers first spotted Grossan. “I remember thinking, who is that beautiful woman standing there?” he said. The two were in attendance to celebrate the marriage of respective co-workers: Anna Bond, with whom Ayers worked at 4AD, an independent record label where he is the US label manager, and the groom, J Edward Keyes, who was Grossan’s then-boss at Bandcamp, a self-publishing music platform where she was a senior editor.

Ayers waited to make his move until he saw Grossan chatting with Joan LeMay, a friend from Seattle, where from 1997 to 2008, he ran Sonic Boom Records and was a drummer in indie rock bands like the Long Winters. Ayers greeted his friend, who introduced him to Grossan. “My first impression was that he was wearing this fabulous suit with cool glasses,” she said of Ayers’ signature oversize frames.

The pair spoke for a few minutes before rejoining the party, and then found each other again, talking for an hour against the backdrop of karaoke. They spoke about music. At 24, Grossan had been appointed the series editor of the publisher Bloomsbury’s 33-1/3 Series, a collection of biographies about individual music albums and artists. “I, and anyone else who had ever heard about it, was impressed by that,” Ayers said.

Ayers is the son of noted jazz composer and vibraphonist Roy Ayers, with whom he has had a distant relationship. He was given a drum set at age 2 by his uncle, jazz musician Alan Braufman, and has made music his lifeblood since.

Nabil Ayers, center, and Ally Jane Grossan are lifted during “Hava Nagila” at their wedding reception at the Masonic Lodge at the Hollywood Forever Cemetery in Los Angeles. (Elizabeth Lippman/The New York Times)

“I remember someone telling me that night: ‘Oh that’s Nabil Ayers from 4AD, that guy’s a big shot,’” Grossan said. After the two parted ways, Grossan followed Ayers on Twitter in the Uber ride back to her home in Crown Heights, Brooklyn.

The next day, Ayers reached out to LeMay with a request: Could she ask Grossan to pass along her email address? Once in hand, Ayers sent Grossan a casual message mentioning Skee-Ball, which Grossan had revealed was a talent. Two days later, Ayers was surprised he hadn’t heard back. “I thought it was weird. We’d gotten along well, and my friend had asked her if it was OK to get in touch.”

After giving the go-ahead, Grossan thought it was odd that she hadn’t heard from Ayers. “I checked the spam folder and was like, ‘No way, this doesn’t happen.’” There was Ayers’s email from his 4AD address.

Grossan responded immediately and the two made plans to meet the following Sunday for a drink. On the Thursday evening beforehand, however, Grossan was seated at a table in the Hammerstein Ballroom at the Libera Awards — a ceremony honoring the indie music community — and heard Ayers’ name announced. She looked up to see him walking on stage to accept an award on behalf of singer/songwriter Grimes for the video “Kill V. Maim.” Grossan emailed him: “Short and sweet — great speech.”

They found each other after the program and Grossan invited Ayers to join a group heading to a karaoke bar (note: for how much karaoke appears in this story, the groom does not particularly enjoy it). There, jammed into a bench with industry peers, Ayers was enchanted as Grossan sang the grim, rapid fire lyrics to System of a Down’s “Chop Suey” with perfect elocution. “She took her shoes off for the song, and I was like, ‘Whoa, she’s really going to do it,’” Ayers said. “I was really impressed.”

The group dispersed and Grossan and Ayers wound up at New Wonjo in Koreatown, talking over cold noodles late into the night. That night the couple kissed for the first time.

It would be the first of many dates.

“Most of the men in the music journalism space are obnoxious: They’re proud of knowing the names of every single album,” Grossan said. “But Nabil knows more that everyone and is so understated. He never tries to display his knowledge to anyone. He’s just excited to talk about it.”

Like the tongue-twisting lyrics to Chop Suey, the relationship moved at a heady clip. On an early date, Grossan mentioned that her favorite album was Hole’s Celebrity Skin; several weeks later, on her birthday in July, Ayers gave her a copy in vinyl. That month, the pair decided on impulse that Grossan would be Ayers’ date to a September wedding in Paris. And in October, Ayers met Grossan’s father, television producer Mark Grossan, in a hot tub during Orange County’s Beach Goth music festival. By Christmas, they had plans for Ally Jane Grossan to move into Ayers’ Brooklyn Heights apartment when her lease was up in May.

In early 2018, Ayers began looking for rings to propose to Grossan. Once he found one — a vintage emerald-cut diamond with two baguettes that reminded him of the art deco angles of the Chrysler Building — he put his plan in motion. He had arranged to have Julien Baker, Grossan’s favorite musician, perform a private serenade during the Sasquatch Music Festival in George, Washington, on May 25, 2018.

But the couple was running late that day. Grossan got her first speeding ticket while they were en route to the Gorge Ampitheater from Seattle. She was frazzled as Ayers hurried her through security, texting with Baker’s manager about the mere minutes they had before the musician was due on stage. Telling Grossan they were hurrying to meet a friend at a backstage video shoot, Ayers wove them through the 20,000-person crowd, past the tour buses, and around a bend behind the stage. There, they found Baker and her violinist on a cliff overlooking the gorge. She started playing Love Me Tender by Elvis. When the violin solo began, Ayers dropped to one knee and asked Grossan to marry him.

The couple chose to marry in Los Angeles, where Grossan grew up and where her grandparents, Murray and Rosalyn Grossan, 95 and 94, live. (They were unable, however, to attend the wedding). Ayers had recently organised a show at the Hollywood Cemetery and thought it might dually be suitable for matrimony. On the summer day when Grossan and her mother toured the cemetery for a visit, the staff was cleaning up the site of the memorial for Chris Cornell, Soundgarden’s frontman.

Nabil Ayers, right, and Ally Jane Grossan at their wedding reception at the Masonic Lodge at the Hollywood Forever Cemetery in Los Angeles, (Elizabeth Lippman/The New York Times)

On the evening of December 20, however, morbidity was the last thing on the minds of the 125 friends and family who gathered in the temple of Masonic Lodge in festive interpretations of “glamour goth,” the couple’s suggested attire for guests. This meant oversize earrings, peacock feathers, sparkly slides, tattooed fingers, faux fur and evening gowns, with an over-index of black rimmed glasses paired with long rocker hair.

“Each of you are glowing tonight, and the love of life that you are share with each other helps to light this world around us,” said the officiant, Rabbi Michele Ellise Lenke, under a white huppah in the temple room, which was a vision in crimson, from carpet to walls, with a Masonic Eastern Star hanging in the center. “Julien Baker may sing about turning the lights out,” the rabbi said, “but my wish for you is to keep shining bright.”

In his vows, Ayers spoke of his respect for Grossan’s drive and ambition, and called her his motivation in life. “I’ve always been a happy person,” he said. “It’s become clear to me that you’ve always been a happy person. So it’s hard to believe that I would meet someone who has made me infinitely happier, but you’ve done that.”

Grossan, who is taking her husband’s last name, praised his accomplishments and his “infectious warmth.” “Waiters, bartenders, shopkeepers and strangers we meet are immediately drawn to you,” she said. “It’s like the whole world is completely in love with you, but not as much as me. I vow to protect and cherish that feeling.”

In toasts over dinner in the building’s Eastern Star Room, where guests drank sparkling Topo Chico water, natural libations from Silverlake’s Psychic Wines, and ate a Mediterranean buffet feast, Ayers was referred to by a co-worker, Gabe Spierer, as “the nicest guy in rock.”

(“Not only rock, but one of the nicest guys in earth, wind and water,” Matt Berninger, the frontman for the rock band the National amended later in the evening).

Ayers’ mother Louise Vesper, a former ballet dancer, recalled seeing the body language between the couple for the first time, and praised the fact that “in their busy lives, they still make time for their parents.” The party moved back across the hall to the Masonic Temple for dancing, and then onto an after party at Brass Monkey — for karaoke, of course.