#i convinced the youngest that 2 + 2 was 6 out of boredom and she believed it

[byfulcrums]

I just saw a fanfic that had the Ahsoka/Anakin sibling trope but they kept on calling each other ‘bro’ and ‘sis’ and I'm so angry now

[wejusthereforthefanart]

Nothing To See Here, Just Some Thorston Twins HCs

1. Even though Ruffnut calls Tuffnut her “baby brother” when he faked his own death, I like to believe they take turns being the first-born. Imagine they were born into chaos, where their mother passes out before she can see the birthing order and the only mid-wife dies of a heart attack while she’s still out cold. Literally no one in the world knows which of them was born first.

2. Their family loves to gamble, to the point that the Thorstons were known as the richest clan of Berk for two weeks and then lost everything the following day. This is how the twins adopted the mindset of “if you feel lucky, go for it” in everything they do. If they fail, they might win later anyway.

3. Technically, they have a secret language between themselves. But Ruffnut likes to make a bunch of random-ass noises to confuse everyone around her, and Tuffnut is still working on deciphering what his sister tries to communicate to him. 

4. They’re the best at distractions on missions, whether as live bait or utilizing their expertise on explosions. They’re the worst at interrogation, however, as they often forget what questions they were supposed to ask. On several occasions, it devolved into Tuffnut breaking down into an existential crisis while Ruffnut used the torture devices on herself out of boredom. 

5. They tie for being the second youngest out of the Dragon Riders. I don’t know why, exactly, but I like the idea that everyone’s birth order is Snotlout, Astrid, Hiccup, Ruff/Tuff, and Fishlegs. It just feels right, you know?

6. The first time they were ever separated for a day was when they were six years old. Ruffnut was sick and Tuffnut was forced to attend school alone. By lunch, he’d convinced himself that Ruffnut was just an imaginary friend who disappeared forever because he grew out of it, and screamed bloody murder when he returned home to find her sleeping in their shared bed. If he gets delirious enough, he’ll go back to thinking his sister is an apparition.

7. Ruffnut has a bucket list solely dedicated to pranks, which includes selling her cousin, Gruffnut, to pirates. She once bonded with Fishlegs over an interest in the expansive flora around Berk, only for him to learn that she used his own knowledge of toxic berries to poison him at dinner that very night. She’s never been trusted to forage for food by herself ever since. 

8. Tuffnut has secretly threatened, either directly or indirectly, every boy his sister has so much as implied to have a crush on. At one point, Snotlout found him about to cave in a fisherman’s skull with a mace because a twelve-year-old Ruffnut said he was “kind of cute.” 

[viridiave]

Wailing Souls

so I had a really mean thought. What if the 8path 1 gang fell to Galdera in the last battle

gonna do a funky and list them in the order of the gods that fell during the fight against Vide according to 8path 2

LONG list of HCs under the cut

8 - TRESSA COLZIONE (Honesty, Prosperity, and the Undying) - Contract-maker with deadly binding deals that ruin lives and punish those amassing fortune - Has the inexplicable ability to show up only when people are in need of the deals she offers - and many people happen to be in need of that - Is also a haunter of ships. At times she is the cause of tempests on the high seas - new ship graveyards have appeared because of her boredom - Deterrents: Marina and Olneo Colzione ○ Perhaps the easiest of the Travelers to reach out to given both her unstable nature and the fact that she was the youngest and first out of all of them to die, but chasing her down is a challenge comparable to Therion's ordeal

7 - THERION (Unreachable Conquest) - Steals more than just material objects now. Lost souls, lost people, lost nations are now part of the hoard - Also comes and goes in the dead of the night - the locations that he is known to have stolen from are all inflicted with nasty insomnia - Specifically avoids high places like the Highlands and the Cliftlands - particularly its highroads. Some are rescued by his hand should they fall by accident (or on purpose) - Deterrent: None, later Tressa Colzione ○ Lingering distrust in the Ravus household - his last meaningful connection before dying to Galdera, other than the Travelers - meant that Therion could not be reached, unless any one of the other Travelers were recovered first as they are the only people he truly trusts with his life. Even if the other Travelers are the ones to reach out to him, he will do his utmost to resist and uh - good luck trying to even catch him

6 - H'AANIT (Wrath of the Successors) - Haunter of the woods and progenitor of monsters - may or may not be cultivating entirely new species that thrive on blood - May or may not be wearing Linde's skin. If the skin is touched without permission, she goes on a rampage. - Is the reason boss monsters like the Devourers of Man and Beast and Direwolves prowl around more often - Deterrent: Z'aanta ○ Like Cyrus, the hardest part about reaching H'aanit is surviving her onslaught - the beasts that rampage the lands are things that even Z'aanta has trouble facing alone. The lack of Linde doesn't help matters.

5 - PRIMROSE AZELHART (Delusions of Grandeur) - Siren-like figure who operates in the shadows to seduce people to their cause; binds generational curses to her victims - Operates under a harmless guise like Ophilia - unlike Ophilia, doesn't have any reservations regarding recruitment methods - Haunts brothels and taverns out of a twisted sense of sympathy for the workers - Deterrent: Revello Forsythe ○ In spite of Primrose's bleak ending she still at least has past connections to ground her - but it will take a LOT of convincing, so sometimes Revello doesn't act alone in trying to reach out to her. Arianna and Odette are along for the ride when the situation is particularly dire

4 - OLBERIC EISENBERG (Isolation in Quiet Suffering) - Holes himself away inside a mountain and becomes an immortal legend that arises only when challengers approach his domain - Likely the most sane out of all of them, but is so isolated and consumed with grief that you wouldn't really be able to tell the difference - Never acts unless provoked to the point of fury. WOULD be the least harmful out of all of them if not for his strength - Deterrents: Erhardt and Philip ○ Erhardt is to Olberic as Odette is to Cyrus - being one of the only people who really understand Olberic to his core. The problem with this is the tragedies that Erhardt himself has caused, and with Olberic's sense of loss being elevated to dangerous extremes, balancing this out with Philip representing the future he swore to protect is pretty much his best bet at reaching him

3 - ALFYN GREENGRASS (Salvation and Guilt) - Silent plaguemaster who spreads poison and ills like a walking pandora's box among the lands - Comes and goes in the dead of the night. He has no set pattern for this, sometimes entire towns just end up rotting overnight - The poisons he sets also fuck up the local environment, and unlike Cyrus he can hide his presence - so he ends up being more of a pain to deal with - Deterrent: Zeph ○ Zeph COULD reach Alfyn fairly easily given Alfyn's core nature being masked over rather than overwritten entirely. The problem is actually managing to find Alfyn before he poisons a town to death, and even then you'd have to deal with his overriding guilt first

2 - CYRUS ALBRIGHT (Reckoning with the Last Stand) - Obscures information through uncontrollable bursts of magic, destroying histories through unbridled destruction - Best treated as a walking natural calamity. Nobody knows how he sustains himself in there. - An incomprehensible babbling mess - sometimes he quotes From The Far Reaches of Hell and other hellish tomes and sometimes it's just apologies - Deterrent: Odette ○ Outside of the other Travelers, Odette is the sole person who understands how Cyrus works. The most difficult part about reaching Cyrus is surviving the calamities he brings

1- OPHILIA CLEMENT (Alone, alone, alone) - Mindt-like figure who guides the lost and weary into their arms so they can spread Galdera's influence further - Basically Ceraphina again? Then again Ceraphina is how deadly cults work - Alongside Primrose is the one to operate under a guise, they probably work together sometimes to poison the Order of the Sacred Flame from the inside - Deterrent: Lianna Clement ○ Very much the only person who can reach her at this low point, but the most that the Deterrents can do is minimize their influence over their victims by taking advantage of their slight lapses of judgment ○ Lianna herself still being in recovery after the events of Ophilia 4 needs a lot of time bring Ophilia back. Her sympathizing somewhat with the Traveler's conditions doesn't help despite her inherent distaste for what they have become ○ Ophilia being the last of the Travelers to be killed also poses a hard challenge for anyone trying to reach her given all she has witnessed and gone through while inside the Gate of Finis

[basu-shokikita]

Kloktober 2023 Day 20

Original character or self-insert

I'm not much for OC content but I do have an OC called Molly Rttengerlrtn that I created at the beginning of the year. And today's prompt is a great opportunity to introduce more people to her :) She's a silly little girl. <3

Below is an illustration of Molly, drawn by my friend! This entry also features his OC, Klokateer N°479 :D

It had started so long ago. Four years ago and 6 months with 2 weeks and 1 day to be exact. Molly had been dragged by her friends to this metal band, Dethklok or something. Apparently they were big but Molly wasn’t really into metal. She liked vaporwave music and 8-bit music, so when Dethklok started playing, she was convinced it wasn’t for her.

In her boredom, she tried to hunt for any signs of homoeroticism within the band. If she wasn’t going to enjoy the music, at least she could try to entertain herself with some good old fanservice. 

Unfortunately, these Dethklok guys were really devoted to their instruments, barely paying attention to each other. Vocalist and guitarist were such a classic duo with lots of tension in between them, however neither the huge black-haired guy or the tall blonde seemed to care about anything besides looking hardcore as hell.

She did notice, however, that there were two guitarists in the band, which piqued her interest just a little bit. Wasn’t sharing instruments totally gay? It also, sort of seemed like the brunet guy was copying the poses of the tall blonde, though she wasn’t sure. From then on, she zoomed in on the guitarists and stopped paying attention to fuck-else. 

And then, the blonde one started playing a solo and she could not help but gasp. No, she didn’t care about the solo, that wasn’t the point. It was the fact that the brunet was looking at the blond with almost bitterness in his eyes. Bitterness and…jealousy? The brunet looked away and Molly could not be entirely sure because of the distance but she could’ve sworn he had rolled his eyes. And she felt it.

Like the second coming of Jesus.

Like the ascension to Nirvana. 

She had found her new life’s purpose. 

And it was…to ship these two guys!

From then on, it had all happened so fast. She urged her friend to tell her more about them and learned that their names were Skwisgaar and Toki, and that they were Scandinavians. She also learnt that Skwisgaar was the band’s womanizer and also the most popular amongst women. On the other hand, Toki was the youngest band member and also regarded as ‘the cute one’. All this information was incredibly fascinating and only fed her growing obsession.

When she got home, she started watching band interviews and found out that Skwisgaar and Toki’s English was pretty poor and that Skwisgaar was quite arrogant vs Toki’s more friendly manner. She took notes, she studied it all. 8 hours of footage and no sleep later, Molly felt like she was starting to get a grasp of these guys. However, the music was a fundamental part of their relationship so she started listening to her albums. Turns out, it was a lot more bearable now that she was doing it with a specific goal in mind. And, man, was the way their guitars complemented each other absolutely gay. 

She kept researching for the rest of the weekend: theories, fanforums, articles, random comments under their performance videos, anything she could find. She even found out there was an already shipping fanbase and that the name of the pairing was Skwistok. 

On Monday morning she faked having a fever so she didn’t have to go to school. As soon as her mother left the room, she grabbed her laptop and started typing furiously. A few hours later, Molly posted her first Skwistok fanfiction online. It was a short little story about Toki having a secret crush on Skwisgaar. It was a massive success, with commenters asking for more and linking to their own stories and drawings.

She had found her people.

From then on, Molly kept writing more and more and befriending fellow Skwistoks, with whom she shared her own theories and ideas about the nordic guitarists. SSoon enough, she realized the Skwistok community was not only pretty big, but also that a lot of them lived in California. And so, Molly decided to found the first Skwistok club ever, based in LA. They met every second Sunday of the month to discuss their findings and artworks. 

Life continued, some of them grew apart, some of them died (Dethklok fans died a LOT during concerts), but new people joined too. Molly finished high school and got a part job at a smoke shop while taking Scandinavian studies during the day. Even when life was busy, she always had time for Skwistok. 

One day, while looking at her commenter’s section on her latest fic, she noticed someone under the name of ‘anon479’ had written the following: 

Hey skwistokfujo420

Your works are great. 

I have something you might like.

Message me.

Curiosity getting the better of her, Molly immediately opened the commenter’s profile and wrote him a ‘hi :3’. Less than 10 minutes later, 479 replied to her, claiming to be Klokateer for Dethklok and that he could give him inside information on Skwisgaar and Toki if she agreed to write really specific stories about Murderface. 

Understandably skeptical, Molly asked for proof that he indeed worked for the most famous band in the world. 479 shortly after sent her a picture of Toki’s underwear drawer and Skwisgaar sleeping in the infamous Mordhaus hot tub, guitar on his lap. He claimed that he was putting his life at risk with this, but he was truly desperate.

It was a no-brainer, Molly accepted and 479 sent a long detailed list of kinks that he wanted to see Murderface subjected to. In exchange, he would report any interaction between Skwisgaar and Toki he had witnessed, as well as send any pictures she wanted. Molly asked why he had chosen her out of the hundreds of Dethklok shippers out there and 479 said that he had been scurrying the fandom for a long time but didn’t like any of the Murderface content she saw. In his desperation, he had started reading stories of other ships. When he stumbled with one of Molly’s fics, he grew enamored with how perfectly in-character he was, and thus decided to deposit all his dreams and hopes in her. Molly was flattered, but mostly she felt very lucky.

And like that, started the most productive business relationship of Molly’s entire life. They talked every two weeks, in which Molly would deliver her latest story featuring Murderface and a brand new kink, while 479 would dump all the footage he had been able to collect, as well as gossip on Skwisgaar and Toki’s lives. It was fascinating really, she was now able to see facets of the men that she would’ve never gotten to otherwise. Evidently, it affected her writing as her characterization now had to take in account Skwisgaar and Toki’s behavior behind the public lens. She didn’t tell anyone where she was getting it, though, both because she knew they wouldn’t believe her and also because she didn’t want to share. 

Eventually, 479 and Molly became friends too, casually chatting about their everyday lives.

skwistokfujo420: yoooo

anon479: Hello.

skwistokfujo420: whatcha up 2

anon479: Just cleaning some coworker’s blood. He got accidentally impaled by Sir Toki last night.

skwistokfujo420: oh noo :((

skwistokfujo420: was he cute while doing it at least? :3

anon479: He panicked for about 30 seconds until Murderface tripped with the blood. And then they all started making fun of him.

skwistokfujo420: LOL

anon479: It gave me a new idea for a story.

skwistokfujo420: oh??

anon479: I’ll send the concept later.

skwistokfujo420: oki

skwistokfujo420: a costumer just said my skwistok shirt is rlly cool :3 

anon479: Is it the purple one?

skwistokfujo420: nop, the pink one

anon479: Oh…the purple one is my favorite.

anon479: I gotta go, Sir Nathan is screaming that his chips are too salty.

skwistokfujo420: bye bye!

anon479: Talk to you later.

Molly put her phone back in her pocket and glanced at the time. With delight, she realized her shift was almost over, so she packed her things and waved his coworkers goodbye.

The customer that had praised her shirt earlier was sitting at a bench right by the entrance. She waved at Molly, walking up to her in a hurry. “Hi, I wanted to ask you about something, if that’s ok.”

Molly raised her eyebrows and then readjusted her glasses. “Sure.”

The girl glanced to the sides and then leaned in to say. “I’m a Skwistok shipper too…” She pulled back hesitating before talking again. “I heard there’s a group in LA…do you know anything about it?”

Molly’s face turned solemn. “I might. But I need to make sure you’re not a spy.” Over the years, Skwistok antis had tried to get in the club for their own wicked purposes so Molly had developed a security test before letting anyone new in.

Nervously, the girl stood straight. “I’m ready.”

Inhaling, Molly took a long look at the girl. She had long brown hair, wore oval-shaped glasses and was dressed all-in-black. “Favorite Skwistok fact?”

“That Skwisgaar accepted Toki into the band!”

“Top or bottom Toki?”

“Both is good, but I prefer top!”

“Dom or sub Skwisgaar?”

“Dom all the way!”

“Is Skwistok mutual or unreciprocated?”

“It’s complicated but it’s mutual! They’re meant to be!”

“Name your favorite Skwistok fic!”

“Skwisgaar’s Not Good, Very Bad Time with Tentacles and Other Kinks by jizzgaar!”

Molly smirked. That was her friend’s epic Skwistok erotica. “Any Skwistok merch?”

The girl searched in her backpack and pulled out a Skwistok pin.

“Stand down!” Molly said and the girl stood straight again. “What’s your name, soldier?”

“C-Clara!” The girl stammered, her eyes on the front.

“Well, Clara…” Molly shoved a card inside her hand. “Hope to see you this Saturday.”

Clara looked down at the card, where the exact address and time for the bi-monthly Skwistok club meeting would take place. She gasped with excitement, her free hand covering her mouth, eyes welling up with tears. “Thank you…”

Smiling, Molly patted her shoulder and turned around. “Skwistok canon!” She shouted as she walked away.

“Skwistok canon!” Clara repeated behind her.

Molly rubbed her hands, an impish grin on her face. The Skwistok family had gained a new member. 

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Serenade (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader) Pt. 12 FINALE

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language Warnings: Nope! Notes: How lovely it has been, to go on this journey with you. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, to every person who has liked, reblogged, or left a kind comment on this story. Combined, you all have genuinely changed my life. I'm writing more than ever, more consistently, and I'm having a blast. So if you like this story, and wish it wasn't ending, well... maybe don't worry too much. There will be a sequel of sorts, same timeline but new reader, instead focusing on Cassandra. Also oops this is hella long. And mostly dialogue. Past Chapters: Pt. 1: Nocturne, Pt. 2: Overture, Pt. 3: Accelerando, Pt. 4: Toccata, Pt. 5: Poco a Poco, Pt. 6: Elegy, Pt. 7: Harmony, Pt. 8: Obbligato, Pt. 9: Berceuse, Pt. 10b: Hymn AMAB, Pt 11: Cadence

Chapter 12: Cadence (Reprise)

(Cadence: Two chords that mark the end of a song)

Truth be told, she had never expected much of anything to come from this. ‘Twas not that she thought her daughter to be talentless, or that she denied the capabilities of the servant-turned-teacher, rather that she knew just how difficult it was to keep Daniela’s attention for any measure of time. Even as the weeks went by with undeniable progress, there was a part of her awaiting the collapse of it all. How long would this instructor last? How long before they were drained of blood, either for some perceived insult, or merely out of boredom? Surely, in the end, Alcina would not need to lift a single finger.

And yet here she was, at the end of a concert, pride roaring within her chest. What had she missed? What clues had eluded her, what had changed within her child’s nature? She knew that there were hints of deeper affections, fragments of a would-be love, but she had thought them miniscule. Thought that those feelings were doomed to crash and burn, unable to live up to the expectations set by decades of romance novels. Well, maybe they had failed. Maybe, somehow, Alcina had missed something else entirely.

The thought might have sent a shiver down her spine, if she weren’t so readily distracted by praising her youngest child… or by the looming shadow of a life-changing revelation.

“Mother… we need to talk. I… I have a confession to make,” Daniela explains, hesitantly slow, but with a conviction she rarely ever showed. Taken aback by the unexpected announcement, Alcina pauses, silently awaiting some form of elaboration. Instead, Daniela takes her hand, pulling her towards a set of chairs. They sit gingerly, each feeling the weight of terrifying possibilities upon their shoulders. When she at last continues speaking, she does so without a trace of showmanship or false bravado, trading it in for heartfelt sincerity. “I love them. All of this- these lessons, this concert- has been for them. For my sweet, innocent little songbird.” So here it was, the birthplace of her fears, brought forth from her mind into reality.

“I was afraid you would say that,” Alcina muses, leaning back into the chair with a deep sigh. Something itches in the back of her throat, and she yearns for her pipe, or even just a normal cigarette to distract herself. Without one, she is left to metaphorically chew on her thoughts. Realistically, there has to be some way to deal with this, some way that she can convince her daughter of the sheer foolishness of this mess. “Daniela… how can I put this in a way you will understand, hmm?… The two of you have only known each other for three months. There is no chance that you truly love them, or them you. How close can you possibly have become?”

“When have I cared about anything for three whole months? I dedicated myself to-” Daniela is cut off by the sound of the door opening, revealing the rest of her little family. It was guaranteed that they would have heard the conversation from outside, seeing as they were all inhuman, though they perhaps intended to intervene. A single hard glance from both of the room’s occupants convinces them to change their minds. “Wait, Ava, can you get us some tea, please? Something tells me I’ll need a soothing drink soon.” Hesitating in the doorway, the butler in question eyes the both of them, naturally tempted to stay and fill the role of a therapist.

“I do believe my daughter gave you an order, Ava. Don’t tell me you have forgotten the stipulations of your agreement with Mother Miranda?” Alcina interjects. With that said, the butler finally moves, exiting with an apologetic bow. An awkward silence hangs in the air once xe closes the door behind xerself, as Daniela takes a moment to recall her place.

“Three months is a long time for me. I put all of my energy towards both them and what they taught me, almost every single day. Even when their work kept them busy for too long, I still practiced, because I wanted to make them proud! For all my flirting, I’ve never bonded with anyone this way before now,” she says, hating the way her voice gets a little shaky. No matter how much confidence she has in her own writing, it is another thing entirely to be convincing out loud, with a truth she had been hiding for so long. All of her practice had been with lies. Now she had to contest with the hope that the strength of her emotions would be enough. “That song we played together, at the end, they wrote that for me. Doesn’t that mean something?”

“Oh, my dear… I want you to be happy more than anything. But we both know that your ‘history’ is stained with a number of incidents. You have always been absorbed within those books you read, and the fantasies that they provide for you. It is one thing to enjoy these stories on the side, but another matter entirely to let them corrupt your relations with others. As your mother, it is my duty to keep you safe, first and foremost,” Alcina proclaims, sitting up straighter, trying not to let her frown evolve into a full out scowl. Beneath the table, her hands ball into fists, clutched tight to stop herself from breaking the table. In the back of her mind she could think of little other than dismembering that damned piano instructor. Focusing on the discussion at hand, she takes a deep breath before finalizing her point. “You don’t know what a healthy relationship looks like, nor what it feels like. Your books are not ideal models for reference. One- or both- of you are going to end up suffering, and that is something I cannot allow, regardless of how ‘happy’ they make you before then.”

“You’re right,” Daniela whispers in defeat… or a feigned version of it. A split second later she’s making eye contact with her mother again, lips curling up into a smile. “I didn’t want to admit it, especially not to someone as attractive, talented, and charming as my Songbird, but I didn’t have to. They understood from the very start. We talked about it, about my expectations and my shitty behavior, and we worked on it. We’re still working on it. Maybe there will be bumps along the way, just like in every relationship, but that doesn’t mean it won’t be worth it in the end. What we have is still real, and they make me want to be a better woman. I know they’ve already helped me make the change.”

Once more the door opens, making the conversation pause, as Ava near-silently brings in the requested tea. If a pin had dropped at that moment, it would have felt as ear-shattering loud as a gong. Every second that passed felt like it dragged on, stretched out by the tension in the room, as though xe was moving in slow motion. The ‘clink’ of ceramic against the table makes xer flinch, almost spilling the tea. Neither Alcina nor Daniela react, or even acknowledge xer presence with anything more than their eyes, instead remaining impassive until xe makes a hasty retreat.

“Use what you’ve learned on someone else, then. Perhaps another one of Miranda’s experiments will someday provide a suitable match. But this ‘songbird’ of yours? They’re nothing. A human, a servant, they are not worth your time, nor are they worth mine. No matter what words or songs they weave, or illusions of grandeur they show you, you will end up getting bored of them. I’m afraid it is inevitable, my dear,” Alcina says, as soon as the door is closed once more. Then she attends to her tea, with the composure of someone convinced that they had just won an argument. On the other hand, Daniela was not so quick to give in, some of her worry melting into anger.

“How can you say that? How can you be sure? We were all human, once! Even Mother Miranda was human. And my Songbird is no mere human- they are wondrous, with flowery prose and lovely melodies, with soft-lipped smiles and reassuring eyes, and don’t even get me started on how beautiful they are!” She rambles, voice getting louder with every word. All at once it is too much for Alcina, who sets down her glass a little too hard, nostrils flaring as she stares at her daughter. When Daniela speaks again, she does so with love coating her tone. “We have weathered each other’s anxieties with no signs of stopping. I promised that we would weather yours.”

“I only want you to be happy. I need you to understand where I am coming from. This may be your longest lasting infatuation so far, but you have yet to honestly convince me that this is any different from your past ‘distractions’. I’m sorry, Daniela, I simply cannot allow this to continue,” Alcina sighs, hating to break her youngest daughter’s heart like this. There was only one thing that Daniela had yet to try. Maybe two, if she was willing to resort to begging.

“Can’t you trust me enough to give us a chance? Cassandra of all people seems to understand. Bela went as far as to lie to you, for our sake! She never does anything she thinks will hurt me, or you, or any of us. Please, mother, please. How can you ever know if what I have will last, if you cut it down now? Are you going to wait forever for some ‘perfect candidate’ for me? And what if that person loves someone else? Or what if the ‘perfect’ person doesn’t exist! What if we’re stuck waiting for them like Mother Miranda waits for another child, hmm? Would you have me spend another century alone, my only memory of genuine romance being poisoned by the thought that you broke us apart?” Daniela’s words ring throughout the chamber, echoing a damning accusation, somehow more bitter than the taste they left in her mouth.

All at once, Alcina’s heart takes a hit like no other. Her hands damn-near tremble, her lungs ache, her lips purse, and her brow furrows. So be it, she thinks.

“Bring this ‘Songbird’ here. Let me talk to them.”

—————————

Goddess, you are practically vibrating at the speed of sound, palms sweaty, nervousness trashing your mind. What the hell had Daniela done? Last thing you knew, she was determined to keep your secret, even if meant being unable to celebrate with you. But now you were getting tugged along by her, while tears threatened to spill from her eyes. She had said something about “mother” and “important”. That was all the context that you had been given. When you round one last corner, pulling up in front of Lady Dimitrescu’s study, you are shown a sight that somehow makes you feel worse: Bela, Cassandra, and Ava are all resting outside of the room. They appear exhausted, and motion for you to be quiet as you approach.

“They’ve been listening in on our conversation,” Daniela admits with a whisper. Then she’s pulling you into the study, ensuring that the door doesn’t open wide enough for the eavesdroppers to get spotted. Something told you that Alcina was already well aware of their presence. “Alright, mother, here is my Songbird. What did you want to ask us?”

“Daniela… leave us. My questions are for ‘Songbird’ alone,” Alcina replies, seemingly confirming the absolute worst of your fears. This was where you would die. By her hand, without your lover by your side, after what could have been the happiest night of your life. Of course. But Daniela is not willing to go without a fight. As soon as the words leave her mother’s mouth, she is moving between the two of you, just as she had when she first called you her teacher. Before she can speak, her mother stands up and stares her down. “Don’t make me ask again- there will not be a third time.” When she still hesitates, it is your turn to be brave.

“Hey, it’s okay, we’ll be okay,” you promise her, reaching out to take her hand. Instantly she’s returning to your side, hand cupping your cheek, eyes filled to the brim with sadness. “Firefly… ‘Tell me love, we shall last until the end of days’. I love you. Nothing is going to change that, not now, not ever. We’ll be okay.” Maybe not now, you think, but you’ll be okay eventually. Cassandra and Bela, and Ava I suppose, will make sure of it.

“Okay. We’ll last until the end of days. I love you too,” Daniela says, swallowing the lump in her throat. With one last kiss she pulls away, wishing that her departure didn’t feel so much like a betrayal. She pauses in the doorway, meeting your gaze, unable to bring herself to move until you give her an accepting nod. The door swings into place with a click, sealing the room and your fate.

“So,” Alcina begins, returning to her seat as she does. For now you stay standing, unsure of just about every part of this situation, especially your upcoming role in it. “You have been deceiving me. That alone is a crime worthy of severe punishment, and yet you stooped so low as to do far, far more. I had hoped you had, somehow, managed to teach my daughter a real lesson, that you had inspired a love of music in her, that you had made an honest difference in the way she learns. But all this time… it has been nothing more than a ruse.” The last word comes out dipped in venom, acidic enough to make you flinch. Thankfully, your beloved was not the only person who had a gift with words. More than that, this was a topic that you had spent numerous nights thinking about, making you as prepared as you could ever hope to be.

“You know, as much as I desire to claim that I am that interesting, or that Daniela felt so strongly from the very start, I can do no such thing. The truth is this: Music is what brought us together in the first place. It was the catalyst for our first real interaction, the first time she ever looked at me as more than just another servant or bloodbag. We bonded because of it, and so when we went to play together, to learn, Daniela honestly did connect to it,” you explain, despite the fire in Alcina’s expression. To your surprise, she does not interrupt you, and you take it as permission to keep going. Which was very good, considering that being nervous only made you ramble more. “Music is something we’ve shared for the entirety of our relationship. Even if it’s not something she would do much of on her own, I know that she’s grown to care for it more than she might be willing to admit. And, well…

“Even if you decide that what I’ve done is unforgivable, even if I’m destined to die within the hour, I know in my heart that everything the two of us worked on still matters. Because, like it or not, she is capable of growth, of change, of progress. And even if I die, someone else will come afterwards. Daniela will get to use music as a way to forge connections for the rest of her life, now that she knows it works, now that she knows how it works. And every goddamn time that she plays, or Bela plays, or you play, she’s going to remember me. She’ll remember every moment we spent together, every piece we ever played. I’ll live on in the melodies we made. In the song that you can’t quite place, that gets stuck on loop in your head. In the song the maids sing to themselves between shifts. In the quiet evening when the rain against the window feels so much like a familiar rhythm that your daughters can’t help but start humming along, without even thinking, muscle memories in sync.”

“Are you trying to convince me that there’s no point in killing you? That, regardless, you will be in my life until the end of time?” Alcina’s eyes are narrowed, but there isn’t even a hint of anger in her tone. Just curiosity.

“No, not really. Guess I’m just making peace with my fate the best way I know how- by remembering the echoes I’ll leave behind,” you answer, pausing to wipe a few tears from your eyes. All you can think about is how much Daniela will miss you. How much pain you think she’ll go through. Because at this point, who are you trying to fool with your hope? Yourself, or the people listening?

“Hmm. I think I understand. Now, tell me… what was that you said to my daughter a minute ago, before she left the room? It sounded familiar, though I cannot place it,” Alcina questions, idly toying with her glass of tea. You’re not entirely sure why it matters to her, but you have no qualms delaying the inevitable by answering. Besides, it was a chance to talk about how much you loved Daniela (and you’d never skip such an opportunity).

“It’s a line from a poem she wrote for me. “Tell me love, we shall last until the end of days”. A promise. The song Daniela and I played together… I wrote it in response. My way of doing what she asked of me, I guess. Like I said, she’ll always have the music we shared,” you answer, unable to stop yourself from smiling.

“Damn this… I can hardly believe I am asking this, yet I feel I have no choice: Tell me, do you love my daughter? Do you honestly, with your entire being, desire a future with her? Or was this a game of survival you couldn’t afford to lose, that turned out to be more ‘fun’ than you had anticipated? Show me your heart, as it is, bare as it would be if I tore it from your chest, this very moment.” There’s no room for argument in her voice, using the very same tone she reserved for maidens who got a tad too close to refusing her.

“Alright. It was a game. At first. Daniela wanted a distraction, something to entertain her. I didn’t want to die, like I had heard so many of her ‘playmates’ did. I can’t tell you when things changed, at least not for her,” you confess, with a shaky breath. Did that make you a monster? One worthy of death? If so, you wondered if it actually made you more fit to date Daniela. “For me… I just remember her smiling wide at me, hand on my cheek, having just cracked some lame joke. Next thing I knew, well, I knew. We had a spark of something, and all I could think about was how badly I wanted to make her happy, you know? All the sudden there was nothing I wouldn’t do for her. I just wanted to see that smile again, everyday for the rest of my life.

“To answer your question: Yes. Goddess, yes. A thousand times yes. A ‘yes’ for every smile she’s ever shown me, for every butterfly in my stomach, for every time she’s held my hand, for every breath she’s stolen from my lungs, and for every single time my heart has skipped a beat in her name. I love her. I know we haven’t been together long, but the things I feel are undeniable. I will give her every part of myself, for as long as she wants me, for as long as I am blessed to live,” you pour your heart out, weaving your heartbeat into every turn of phrase, spilling your lifeblood onto the very conversation.

“And what will you do if she does change her mind? If she grows bored of you, as she has done with a dozen others?” Alcina counters without hesitation.

“I will weep. I will fall to my knees, and mourn this beautiful thing. But I will cherish every memory she leaves to me. Every moment where I am hers is a moment worth living, worth remembering. It will be better to have loved her with all my heart for a little slice of her immortality, than to love another, lesser so, for all of my life.” With that, Alcina sets her empty glass of tea onto the table, eying you with an unreadable expression. Something seems to stir in her chest, and at last the mask crumbles. She smiles.

“I see. Daniela, you may come back in now. Do not bother pretending that you have not been eavesdropping.” Not even a full second passes before the door opens, revealing a shaking Daniela, both of her sisters quite visible behind her (though they quickly move out of frame, leaving behind Ava, who gives a cheesy thumbs up as the door closes in xer face). She rushes to your side, taking your hand, looking stunned that you were still alive. But what shocks her more is what her mother says… “Of all the women I have ever known, family or otherwise, you are, perhaps, the most determined. Normally only in… ‘spurts’. Yet here you are, defying what I have come to expect of you. It almost feels as if I have been fooling myself this whole time, falsely believing that there is more than one possible outcome. So, ‘Songbird’, I say this: Three months ago, I agreed to give you a chance to prove yourself worthy of my daughter, for the sake of her happiness. Now, I suppose it is only fair that I do so once more.”

“Wait. Are you saying-” Daniela is once again cut off by her mother, who seems eager to avoid a trademark rant.

“Yes, yes I am. For the time being, the two of you have my blessing. I cannot say that I am entirely convinced of your chances at success, but, having seen the strength of your affections for one another, I sincerely hope that you will prove me wrong. Now come here, Daniela. I never got to finish telling you what I thought of your concert…”

—————————

In the glowing comfort of your girlfriend’s room, with the fireplace keeping things warm and cozy, you lay with your head against Daniela’s chest. One of her hands absentmindedly plays with your hair, and you release a sigh of bliss. Ava had assured you that xe would let Daphne know the good news, as xe thought that having one of the castle ladies visiting the servants’ quarters might cause a stir (and Daniela was far from willing to let go of you so soon). Now the two of you were just enjoying time holding each other close. Regardless of Alcina’s concerns, you knew that everything would be looking up from here. Assuming that Daniela didn’t have any more surprise confessions to involve you with.

“That was one hell of a surprise, Firefly. But I’m glad we don’t have to hide anymore. I love you, and I don’t know how long I could have survived without being open with it,” you say, a light teasing to your voice. Beneath you, Daniela chuckles, but holds you just a bit tighter. Then she places the softest of kisses to your forehead. “I’m always gonna love you, Firefly.”

“Until the end of days?” She asks, in a delighted whisper, grin practically audible.

“Until the end of days.”

—————————

Elsewhere in the castle, a caring mother takes another long, hungry drink from her glass of wine, staring intently into the fireplace. By her side is a silver-haired servant, who wordlessly watches her every move.

“There’s still a chance that this will all end horribly. Only time will tell, of course… but I can’t help worrying for her, she’s my daughter,” Alcina proclaims, gripping the glass hard enough for a web of cracks to form along its bell. But it does not fully shatter. No, it remains just steady enough to still be of use to her. For now. “Of course, you knew about this all along, didn’t you, Ava?... I know that you value how close you are with my children, and I know that they trust in you as much as I do… but if there are relationships or entanglements that I am unaware of, I expect you to tell me, or there will have to be consequences, regardless of your affiliation with Mother Miranda. Do you understand?”

Sighing, the mute servant pulls a notebook from xer pocket, opening it up to pen in a fresh script. There’s much tension in the air, and it only gets worse when Alcina catches a glimpse at what the note reads. As xe hands it to her, she scowls, and the wine glass fully breaks into countless shards. Immediately, Ava gets to work, picking up the largest of fragments with xer bare hands, refusing to complain about the resulting cuts. All the while Alcina stares into the fire, thoughts racing, wondering if maybe this time she could end her daughter’s problem before it was too late. Beginning to brainstorm ideas, she sets the notebook aside. Inside, in perfectly penned cursive, is a very, very dangerous piece of knowledge. The sort that could affect not only Castle Dimitrescu, but the entire village.

“In that case… there’s something you need to know about Cassandra- and Mother Miranda’s lovely little ‘pet’.”

[ashes-and-ashes]

His earliest memory is when he was 4.

He can’t remember everything, exactly. There’s his bed, swathed in emerald green silk even way back then, the heavy chandelier in the center of the room. He remembers a heavy black dresser pushed up against a wall, thick books neatly stacked on his bookshelf. Even then he wanted to please his parents, wanted to be the “good boy.”

He remembers standing on the bed, looking down at the floor. His bed was huge - he needed a footstool to reach it, and the floor seemed so far away.

Sirius would have been 5 then, crossed-legged on the floor, hands stretched far out in front of him. “Come on, Reg! I’ll catch you!”

And the floor seemed so far away, the wood hard and unforgiving, but Regulus nodded. Because Sirius was there and he said he would catch him and Sirius would never lie. Sirius always protected him.

Regulus took a deep breath and jumped.

He’s 7 now, standing next to Sirius in terror. He had knocked over a vase, porcelain shards shattering everywhere, going under the table and the sofas and the rugs. He didn’t mean to, of course, was too caught up in his book to realize that he had walked into the table, bumping the surface and shattering the vase.

Even then he was terrified. Now he looks back on the memory and laughs, laughs at his fear and terror. Walburga hadn’t even started drinking at that point, not heavily, and her anger was almost tame compared to what he was used to.

She had screamed when she saw the glass, screamed and swore and dragged him and Sirius into the kitchen. Regulus stood up as straight as he could, body almost rigid in fear while Sirius had leaned against the wall. A look of boredom was pasted on his face, though Regulus knew he must have been as scared as he was.

He can still remember Walburga’s words, echoing through his head 10 years later. “Which one of you little shits did this? How dare you? How dare you break my fucking vase?”

They both stayed silent, him and Sirius. Perhaps they thought it would calm Walburga down, the utter lack of response to her tirade.

It only seemed to infuriate her more. With a yell, she grabbed Regulus by the shoulders, slamming him against the wall. “Who broke it?”

Regulus started crying, tears rolling down his face. Walburga’s nails cut into his skin, making him wince. “I...I - “

She slapped him. It wasn’t hard, wasn’t even strong enough to break flesh but it still shocked him. Regulus gaped, mouth hanging open, the skin on his cheek reddening.

“Shut the fuck up,” she hissed, hitting him again. “Black’s don’t cry.”

Regulus bodded, choking back on his sobs. He was about to speak up, was about to accept his punishment and pray that Walburga wouldn’t hurt him too badly when Sirius stepped forward.

“Me,” he said. “I broke it.”

Regulus whipped his head around, heart pounding. “No - “ he started, but Sirius glared at him. Shut up, he mouthed, and Regulus listened.

Walburga turned on him slowly. “What?”

Sirius’ voice trembled. He was only 8, but Regulus always remembered him as much older. “I broke the vase. I ran into it. I’m sorry mother - “

Walburga interrupted. “Regulus,” she said, not even bothering to look at him. “Go to your room.”

Regulus did, slamming the door behind him, hurrying his face in the covers. He still remembers the screams that echoed from downstairs, the slaps and the yelling. Sirius had a black eye for weeks afterwards.

He’s 10 now, in Sirius’ room, standing by the door. Sirius was packing, viciously almost, stuffing everything inside his chest. “God, I can’t wait to get out of here, I don’t think I can last another day - “

Regulus looked down. It was almost an unspoken rule by now - they never mentioned Sirius’ injuries. He could see the edge of a cut now, peeking out from under his sleeve, left over from 2 nights ago.

“What house do you think you’d be sorted in?” he asked, his voice soft.

Sirius laughed, bitterly. The sound was too old for an 10 year old, full of pain and frustration and anger. “What choice do I have? Slytherin. It’s the only option for me.”

Regulus considered this. “I don’t think so,” he said.

Sirius slammed the lid of the trunk down. “Then what House will I be in?”

“Gryffindor.”

Sirius furrowed his brow. “Why?”

“Because,” Regulus said. “You’re the bravest person I know.”

He remembers standing on the platform, watching the Hogwarts Express come in. He was terrified, scared beyond reason because Sirius was leaving and he was going to be stuck with his mother for a whole year.

Her hand was on his shoulders, squeezing so hard he wanted to cry out, fingernails cutting into his skin. He was about to let out a noise, about to duck away when he stopped himself. Sirius took it, he thought. Sirius dealt with the worst of it.

And he wouldn’t call out. He wouldn’t beg Sirius to stay, though he knew Sirius would if he asked. He wouldn’t ask Sirius to bear more of the pain, take the brunt of his mother’s anger. He couldn’t.

So Regulus swallowed his cries, forced them down inside, watched as Sirius boarded the train. Survive. I can survive one year.

He remembers the conversations with his mother, during that one year. It was like walking on broken glass - entire days spent in his room, terrified of saying anything, doing anything, bringing her wrath onto his head.

And he remembers when he changed, when he realized the true extent of the game. Walburga was drunk, angrily mumbling into her glass; he remembers offering to bring her some water.

“You useless bastard,” she muttered, as he set the glass in front of her. “What an absolute shame. Oldest takes the Mark, though the youngest listens better. Fuck. What a nightmare.”

Oldest takes the Mark.

He’s seen the Marks - his Aunt Druella has it, all twisted and dark against her forearm. He knows what it means, swearing allegiance to The Dark Lord, being forced to kill and murder and torture. He knows immediately that Sirius is supposed to take it.

And he knows, instantly, knows it would be torture for him. Knows that Sirius would die being a Death Eater, being forced to fight in a war.

It’s one of his talents, being able to see the tangled roads lying in front of him. He’s only 10, but Regulus already knows what he has to do.

He’s 12 now, already caught in the game. Be the perfect son.

So he does. He does everything - gets perfect grades, introduces himself to the right people. He learns how to put up masks, made of iron and marble and steel, learns how to talk and how to plot and how to manipulate people.

And he’s a bastard. He knows he’s one, a conniving, untrustworthy bastard. Sirius told him so, after watching him suck up to his mother, repeating all her pure blooded bullshit right back.

“You’re such a suck up,” he said, after she had passed out on the couch. “What the hell? You can’t actually believe all that crap.”

“Shut up,” Regulus had hissed back. “Don’t let her hear you say that.”

“Why?” Sirius spat, defiantly. Walburga had started cutting him, slicing the back of his knees and arms and even his ribs; Regulus could see the blood where it had soaked through his sleeve. “She already knows. Can’t hurt me anymore.”

God, Regulus wanted to agree. He swallowed, hard, the same mental checklist running through his head. Be perfect. Take the Mark.

“She may have a point,” he muttered. “About...you know. Mudbloods.”

Sirius blanched; he had a friend, Regulus remembered, a friend named Remus who was a halfblood. He winced internally, knowing he had struck too deep.

“You,” Sirius hissed, “Are a bastard. A convincing, manipulative bastard. I don’t know what happened to you.”

Regulus watched him storm up the stairs before letting out a shaking breath.

He’s 13 now. The beatings have gotten worse - too many mornings he finds Sirius curled up on the floor instead of in his bed. He recognizes the marks, the faint white scars looking like galaxies against Sirius’ skin. She’s been using Crucio on him, multiple tones if he wasn’t mistaken, over and over again until Sirius’ body couldn’t take it anymore and he passed out.

She’s only used Crucio on him once. It was a dark night - Walburga was drunk and he didn’t know what Sirius had said but suddenly he was bleeding on the ground and she was screaming over his shaking body.

He barely screamed. He used to, at the beginning, roared until the house echoed. Now he just bit his lip, hard enough until blood dripped down his chin.

And she didn’t stop. Over and over again, Regulus frozen in the corner, watching as Sirius curled up tighter and tighter -

“Stop,” he said. Sirius made a choked noise - it sounded like no, though Regulus wasn’t sure. “Stop. You’ve hurt him enough.”

Walburga barely looked at him. “Crucio.”

And Regulus has been abused before, he knows this, abused mentally until sometimes he wants to drown himself but never like this. He’s never felt pain like this, ripping and burning and tearing, making him scream and scream until his throat gave out. He tasted blood in his mouth, thick and salty and he gagged, gasping for air -

And as he lies curled up on the floor, in the growing pool of his brother’s blood he wonders how Sirius bears it.

He’s 15 and he sees Sirius kissing Remus.

He was on the Quidditch Field - Sirius usually came out to fly late at night and Regulus always tried to watch him.

Sirius had taught him how to fly, when he was 6, the last of the golden days when everything was simple. Regulus has always been nervous of heights, hated the feeling of wind and air and falling, and it was only when Sirius had gotten him onto a broom did he understand the magic of flying.

He always tried to watch Sirius fly. He was a natural at it, him and James Potter, moved through the air like others moved on land. There was a sort of grace that Sirius just seemed to have, something that Regulus tried and tried over and over again to replicate but never succeeded in.

It was the last tie he allowed himself to hold, the last bit of affection he allowed himself to show towards his brother. The plan was simple, something he had followed since he was 12.

Because if he allowed Sirius to hate him, if he was able to sever all ties between himself and Sirius then Sirius could be free. He knew he only stayed for him, only stayed to protect Regulus. Without Reg, Sirius would leave.

And God, he tried. Everything - from being a bastard to watching impassively as Sirius screamed on the ground. It shredded Regulus’ heart apart, broke it so completely that there was no return.

Get Sirius out. Because if he stayed, he’d have to take the Mark. If he stayed, Sirius would become a Death Eater, forced to fight against his friends, his true family.

Better to let Regulus do it, then force Sirius.

And he never knew how much, never knew the true extent of how much Sirius loved Remus. He’s always suspected it, to some extent, has always known that Sirius didn’t like girls but it wasn’t until he saw them kissing that he realized.

Regulus had never loved anyone, not like that. He’s been too focused in preserving the mask, the cool facade of indifference, has spent his entire life trying to get Sirius out that he’s never really thought about what he wanted before.

Sirius kissed Remus like he was drowning, like he was surrounded by water and Remus was air. It was a desperate, longing sort of kiss, like years of pent up emotion had finally been released.

Regulus has always doubted, to some extent, doubted how much Sirius truly loved Remus. Now he knew.

Sirius would leave for Remus. Regulus has eroded his relationship with Sirius, eroded it to the point where Sirius would abandon him.

Regulus let out a shaking breath. He knew how to make Sirius leave.

He’s 15 now, staring down at his brother, the blood and the gashes, the glints of bone and the burns. His own side aches - his mother had hurt him, shot him right through Sirius’ body.

Reg. Reg, please, you have to let me go.

And he’s done his job, hasn’t he? He’s sacrificed so much, sacrificed his hopes and dreams, his wishes for a better future. He’s given up so much for Sirius and Sirius has done so much for him and the debt is paid now, isn’t it? He’s played the game, perhaps too well, burnt all his bridges and now he stands over Sirius’ broken, bleeding body.

Regulus takes a deep breath. His hand unconsciously drifts to his forearm, where he knows the Mark will go.

He’s not stupid. He knows he’ll die. His Brother will join the Order and he’ll be a Death Eater and the best he can hope for is that someone will kill him before he throws away his innocence completely.

His life for his brother's. He’d pay it. Over and over again, by God he’d pay it. He’d give up his life for the bare chance that Sirius’ could be better.

Regulus swallowed, hard, etched his brother’s face into his memory and prepared to let him go.

[hellcheer-munson]

Stitch by Stitch (Part 3) - a Newt/Tina fic

Tagging: @pinkdiamonddolphin

We’re moving forward now to February 1941 :)

Phoenix – 22nd June 1931 – 9 (going on 10) Linnet – 13th January 1933 – 8 Leo – 3rd March 1935 – 5 (going on 6)

Tobias “Toby” – 15th October 1929 – 11 Daisy – 7th April 1931 – 9 (going on 10) Abel and Ruth – 20th November 1933 – 7 Elijah “Eli” – 28th January 1939 - 2

(A/N: Alice and Louisa are Theseus’ daughters)

“You know, Mummy, I really want a baby sister.”

Tina couldn’t help but grin as she followed her daughter to Dougal’s habitat. “I know you do, Lin – you keep telling me.”

“It’s just that I already have two brothers,” Linnet continued, pouting to herself. “I want a sister now – it’s only fair, because then there’ll be two boys and two girls. Besides, you have a sister, Alice has a sister, Daisy has a sister…I want one too.”

“Yeah,” Tina agreed, rather amused. “But I’m afraid I don’t get to choose whether the baby’s a boy or a girl – we’ve just got to wait and see.”

The eight-year-old didn’t look pleased by this answer – but she soon lit up as a familiar wizened face materialised near the Occamy nest. “Hello, Dougal! How are you today?”

The demiguise seemed to purr as she wrapped her arms around him, leaning into her embrace quite contently; Tina smiled to herself at the sight, shifting the books in her arms. It was clear that Dougal was rather fond of her daughter, and on more than one occasion she had witnessed them playing hide-and-seek together (Dougal, of course, was always the clear winner).

“Mummy brought some books down today,” Linnet informed him eagerly. “She’s gonna read a muggle book! I bet you’ll like that one, it sounds so interesting – and you’re gonna sit with me, of course, because you’re my best friend and I love you.”

It didn’t take long for Newt and the boys to join them; to Tina’s dismay, Phoenix was covered in Graphorn slime and Leo in dead woodlice.

“What in the name of-”

“I fed the Bowtruckles!” Leo interrupted excitedly. “But Titus got angry because I gave Finn extra, and he started shaking the tree and all the bugs fell in my hair!”

Tina looked at her oldest son, raising a brow. “And what about you?”

“Bertha gave me a big fat kiss,” Phoenix explained, and his cheeks were tinged pink. “Dad says she likes me.”

“She’s quite in love with him,” Newt agreed bemusedly. “The other Graphorns will have to watch out.”

“Honestly…” Her tone was affectionate, however, as she shook her head at them. “Alright, come here, I’ll clean you both up and then we’ll sit for a story.”

Thankfully it didn’t take very long at all to get the two boys clean; a quick Scourgify removed all of the slime from Phoenix, and as Tina deliberated best over how to get all of the dead bugs from her youngest son’s hair, Dougal started to pick them out for her diligently. Leo giggled when the demiguise popped one in his mouth, squirming slightly at the feel of the creature rooting through his unruly hair.

He’s just like Newt, Tina thought fondly, watching as he laughed quite happily – he’d always been so at home with the creatures in the case, even more so than his older siblings, and he was already quite enamoured with them. On a few occasions, he had announced that he wanted to be like Newt one day, to study and look after creatures too, and it wouldn’t have surprised her if he ended up doing just that.

Once both boys had been cleaned sufficiently, the whole family settled down close to the Occamy nest; the serpentine creatures cried out hungrily when they noticed Dougal approaching with a handful of dead bugs, and he was soon sitting on the side of the nest quite contently as he threw the dead woodlice into the nest. With that, Tina propped open one of her books and rested it on top of her belly; she was getting much larger now, thankfully, looking slightly healthier at six months along. She still had to be careful, the Healers warned, for she was still painfully thin and at a high-risk.

“This is a muggle book,” Linnet whispered to her brothers loudly, tucked comfortably underneath her father’s arm.

Leo’s eyes lit up. “Ruth says that Uncle Jacob reads muggle books to her and Abel!”

Thank you Queenie for the suggestion, Tina thought to herself with a smile before clearing her throat. “Alright, you guys all comfortable?” All three children nodded, as did Newt as he grinned. “How about you, Dougal? You ready?”

Dougal gave a noise of approval, hopping down from his perch and clambering to sit between Tina and Linnet.

“Okay, let’s start then.” She turned her eyes to the book and started to read. “Once on a dark winter’s day, when the yellow fog hung so thick and heavy in the streets of London that the lamps were lighted and the shop windows blazed with gas as they do at night, an odd-looking little girl sat in a cab with her father and was driven rather slowly through the big thoroughfares…”

As was usual during the family’s story-time sessions in the case, Linnet was positively alive with energy as she listened carefully, eyes wide and mouth parting slightly; Leo had rested his head on top of Tina’s bump, ear pressed against it as he half-listened and gazed around the case. Phoenix stretched out on the floor on his stomach, just enjoying the relaxed and warm atmosphere as he listened to the story.

“…She was such a little girl that one did not expect to see such a look on her small face.  It would have been an old look for a child of twelve, and Sara Crewe was only seven…”

Newt had to bite back a laugh when his daughter beamed to herself hearing this sentence – seven and eight were not that different, after all, and he could immediately tell that she was quite enraptured by the story already. He had a feeling it would be one of her favourites for years to come, if her interest so far was anything to go by.

The book was rather good, of course – but Newt found it far more interesting to watch as Linnet started to fall in love with the story with every word that Tina spoke; he could see her falling in love with the idea of a little girl growing up in India, of having an ayah to help her dress, of travelling to a country that seemed foreign. It made his smile widen when his daughter looked over at him at the mention of the girl’s – Sara – father, and how close the two were; he didn’t need to be a Legilimens to know that she was comparing and noting the similarities, and it warmed his heart to think that his daughter felt that close to him.

It didn’t take long for Leo to drift off, as usual, with his face buried into Tina’s side and a hand clutching at the bottom of her blouse. They had read a few chapters, just getting into it, when Tina closed the book and cleared her throat again. “Alright, it’s starting to get late – you guys should go to bed.”

“No!” Linnet said desperately, tugging at her sleeve. “Read more, Mummy, please! I want to hear more about Sara and her Emily-doll, and about the school she’s at – please, Mummy?”

“Tomorrow night, Lin,” Newt agreed, stretching his arms out; he was getting older, he noted with a grimace, and his back was starting to hurt from sitting in one place for too long. “Come on, it’s time we all got some sleep – look, even Dougal is going back to his den.”

Linnet looked thoroughly put out as she watched the demiguise clamber back into his home. “Oh…okay. Fine. But you’ve gotta tuck me in, Daddy.”

“Of course,” He assured her placidly, smiling affectionately. “Head on upstairs and I’ll be with you in a moment.”

Phoenix and Linnet headed for the shed without another word, talking between themselves; Newt gently lifted Leo from where he’d been asleep against Tina’s side and into his arms, carefully making sure he had his son’s weight secure in his arms before turning to look at his wife.

“I’ve got him…are you alright, love?”

“I’m fine,” Tina muttered, though she suddenly looked pale. “I…I dunno what came over me…another bout of nausea or something…but I’m fine,” She repeated at his look. “Honestly, Newt, don’t worry about me – all I need is to get up to bed and get some sleep, that’s all.”

He wasn’t particularly convinced by this but he didn’t want to press the matter further in case it stressed her. “If you say so, dear. You head straight to bed, I’ll sort these three out.”

“I can put the kids to bed,” She said, frowning as she pushed herself off the ground uneasily. “I’m not an imbecile, Newt.”

“I never said you were,” Newt affirmed quickly. “I merely meant that it might be best – for the baby – if you save your strength.”

Tina huffed but didn’t argue, straightening her clothes before starting up the path to the shed with him. “I am tired,” She admitted quietly. “That’s why I ended the story – ‘cause I’m just so exhausted.”

It wasn’t exhaustion from doing anything – no, it was exhaustion from doing nothing: even with the regular owls from Crawford with paperwork and files, she was bored without her job. She missed working more than she cared to admit, if only because it had gotten her out of the house every day – recently, the only times she really left the house had been to visit Queenie, and those were more often than not with Newt and the children accompanying her. The boredom was making her restless, making her slightly on edge, though she wouldn’t admit it.

Newt sighed, adjusting the weight of their youngest son in his arms as he walked. “I know, Tina. It’s not very exciting – at least, not compared to what you’re used to – and I know you wish you were back at work more than ever…if you want to change your decision, then I’m sure-”

“No,” She interrupted. “There’s no point in going back and then leaving again within a few months. Besides, if it’s what’s best for the baby…”

It has to be worth it.

“Yes,” Newt murmured softly, wishing he knew of a way to make her feel better. “It’ll be more than worth it when they’re born though, Tina, I promise.”

It’s only three months to go, Tina told herself resolutely as they left the case, three more months – it’s really not that long. I can do this.

It was dull – dull as hell – having nothing whatsoever to do as the days went on.

The work Crawford sent over by owl wasn’t easy, of course, but it was boring to just do paperwork – it was better than doing nothing, of course, but that didn’t stop Tina from being bored all the same. Reading about all of these cases made her want to go and start working again, eager to help people, and it made her feel more restless than ever.

At least now she could visit Queenie whenever she wanted; when she’d been pregnant before her sister had lived in New York, of course, and so to be able to visit her when she was feeling so useless was a great comfort.

“You don’t need to keep giving me pastries whenever I come over,” Tina sighed when her sister slid a baked demiguise across the table on a plate. “I’m eating fine.”

Queenie just hummed, making some tea as she flicked her wand around the kitchen. “I’m not trying to fatten you up, Teen, I’m just sharing Jacob’s absolutely delicious baking, that’s all.”

She and Newt are plotting together to fatten me up, Tina thought with a grimace, I just know it.

“We’re not plotting together!” Queenie denied, shaking her head. “Though he did ask Jacob to make some extra for you guys…just for fun.”

“Sure,” Tina muttered dryly, but she picked up the demiguise pastry and bit into it – it was delicious, as always. “How is the bakery doing?”

Her sister lit up, clearly quite happy. “It’s so busy, Teenie! It took a while for customers to start coming in, of course, but once word got out…well, it’s been pretty hectic since. Jacob’s having to work earlier to make sure he’s made enough of everything – I go and help sometimes, you know.”

“I’m glad it’s doing well,” The older witch said, smiling genuinely. “No surprise, really. And everything here’s been okay?”

“Oh, yeah, Teen – we’re perfectly happy!” The blonde beamed as she flicked her wand and sent the mugs to sit on the table. “Toby’s getting real excited about going to school in September – he can’t wait to learn, you know! And Daisy, she loves the books you gave her; Jacob and I really appreciate you doing that, by the way. It really helped her settle in.”

“It’s the least I could do, really,” Tina brushed off quickly. “You do seem very happy…I’m glad.”

Queenie was still positively radiant as she sat down at the table, picking up her mug and cupping it in her hands. “We’re real happy here, Teen, don’t worry,” She assured her sister. “It’s starting to really feel like home now…and it’s just as well too.”

“Just as well?” Tina repeated, quite puzzled. “What are you talking about?”

“Well…” Her sister was bubbling, her excitement contagious and impossible to hold in. “Jacob and I found out we’re having another baby soon.”

Tina’s jaw dropped. “Another one?” She questioned, clearly shocked. “Already? You guys have only been here a few months!”

“So?” Queenie raised a brow. “Jacob and I like having a big family – and we was talking about a new baby soon anyway.”

“I mean, don’t get me wrong,” Tina began hurriedly, cheeks going slightly pink. “I’m pleased for you both, that’s great news, but…I don’t know. I guess I wasn’t expecting it. But I am happy for you both.”

Her sister smiled again. “I know, Teenie, of course you are. We were kinda surprised too, to be honest – I mean, we knew we wanted more, but we didn’t think it’d be this soon…”

We’re both in the same boat then, Tina found herself thinking before she could stop herself; we’re both pregnant…though she looks better with it than I do…

“Don’t be silly,” Queenie sighed, shaking her head. “If it makes you feel any better, Newt still thinks you’re beautiful.”

Tina went red. “You weren’t meant to hear that…and you shouldn’t be reading his thoughts like that…”

“He wasn’t stopping me,” The blonde stated defensively. “And I can’t help it, Teen – a lot of the time I don’t want to hear it.”

She immediately felt guilty. “Queenie, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry. I know you can’t help it, it’s just…I’m kinda embarrassed about thinking it. Usually I don’t care about that kind of thing, but…”

“But it’s the hormones,” Queenie agreed sympathetically. “No, they’re no fun. But you shouldn’t feel so unattractive all the time, Tina, ‘cause you’re not; if only you could hear what Newt thinks when he looks at you…you’d understand.”

“Well, I can’t,” Tina pointed out, looking down at her tea. “So there’s no point in pretending I can… I’m fine about it though, really. Don’t go worrying about me now.”

Queenie merely sat back in her seat, giving a small sigh. “I’m just saying that you should talk to Newt about it, if that’s how you feel. I’m sure he’d be willing to listen and make you feel better.”

I doubt it, Tina thought miserably, and she didn’t even bother trying to hide it from her sister, He’s barely touched me since what happened in December – it’s like he’s afraid I’ll break or something.

It was true: Newt had taken to sleeping as far on the other side of the bed as he could, avoiding touching her if he could, and she knew it was merely him being worried for her and the baby. That didn’t stop her from feeling awful about it, of course, and she felt even worse when she thought about him avoiding her.

“You should do something about it,” Queenie mused, and there was a mischievous twinkle in her eye as she took a sip from her mug. “You know…just a little something to let him know what you want. I’m sure he won’t mind at all.”

Tina couldn’t help but go red again at the insinuation – but it was certainly a rather good idea, nonetheless.

“I’m sorry for the mess, Newt, dear… Margaret left the girls with me today while she’s at work, and they’ve been rather excitable.”

Newt shifted awkwardly as his mother levitated a tray of tea and biscuits to the table. “It’s fine, really, Mother.”

Florence Scamander smiled weakly, looking rather tired as she sat down opposite him – it hadn’t been easy for her at all, he knew; ever since Theseus had been declared missing in the war she had looked sick, and the fact that she was looking after Margaret and Theseus’ daughters most days probably wasn’t helping matters either.

“So, how have things been, dear? How is Tina?”

“She’s…fine,” He answered carefully – he hadn’t mentioned the incident from December to his parents, mostly because he hadn’t seen them, and it would perhaps be unwise to mention it now two months later. “I suppose she’s rather bored of not working now, but apart from that…she’s doing well.”

“And she’s eating? She looked so skinny last time I saw her,” Florence sighed, shaking her head. “She’s always been a skinny thing, of course, but lately…and with the baby…well, I’m sure you understand.” He nodded, avoiding her eyes as he reached for his mug of tea. “How are the children?”

Newt gave a small shrug. “They’re fine too, Mother – we’re all fine. Phoenix is getting rather excited because he knows Toby will be going to Hogwarts in September, and then next year it’ll be his turn; Linnet is still rather excitable about the new baby – she keeps begging for a sister, despite the fact we keep telling her we won’t know until the baby’s born. And then Leo…is Leo.”

“Leo is like you,” His mother mused fondly. “Quiet, keeps mostly to himself – he certainly loves his creatures. Well, I’m glad to hear that they’re all getting on so well; I wish you brought them over to visit more often, Newt. Your father and I do miss having them come over.”

“I’m sorry,” He apologized softly. “It’s been rather busy lately, that’s all; between Jacob and Queenie moving in and the new baby…well, there hasn’t been a great deal of time for anything else.” He paused, hesitating before continuing. “May I ask… I haven’t seen Margaret since before…well, since before Theseus went missing. Is she…How is she?”

Florence’s weak smile faded quickly. “She’s not doing very well at all; she’s working overtime to provide for the children, and we’re helping as much as we can, but…but she’s very distraught still over the news.”

This didn’t particularly surprise Newt: he knew if Tina were to go missing while on active duty…well, the thought made him want to shudder. It was only to be expected that his sister-in-law was miserable by Theseus going missing.

“The girls miss him,” His mother continued sadly, looking down at her cup as her eyes glistened. “They were his world – he certainly changed after they came into his life, and he spoilt them both rotten with love and attention. Alice is old enough to understand, and she cries when she’s over here; Louisa doesn’t know a thing, but she still misses him.”

“I miss him too,” Newt agreed quietly.

“Your father refuses to speak about it; he keeps saying that they’ll find him, that we just need to wait because the Ministry knows what they’re doing…but I don’t feel very hopeful at all.”

“I’m sure they’ll find him,” He said unsurely, and he gently rested a hand on her arm. “Grindelwald will know he’s useful, probably keep him alive for that reason… Please don’t get upset, Mother.”

Florence gave a quiet sniff before composing herself somewhat. “No, I know – you’re right, of course. No use in getting upset over nothing, is there? Of course they’ll find him soon.”

Honestly, Newt wasn’t so certain that they would find his brother – but he knew that his mother didn’t need to hear those kinds of things, that they would make things worse. She needed to hear hopeful things - and if lying made her feel better, then he would do so willingly.

It had been relatively cold as they both got into into bed a few nights later, a light chill in the air, and they quickly retreated to the heat underneath the blankets.

A few minutes passed as they both warmed up comfortably, and then Tina decided to put her plan into action.

Careful not to place too much pressure on her abdomen, she rolled onto her side to look at her husband; in the moonlight, she could see only the darkest of freckles standing out against his skin, his profile sharply defined. He didn’t seem to notice her shifting, not until she sat up and leaned over him.

“Tina, love, everything alright?”

“I’m perfectly fine,” She assured him quietly, and she moved her face closer to his. “Kiss me.”

Newt’s eyes widened as he sat up as well and quickly moved away. “Tina…”

She couldn’t help it – it was stupid to get so emotional over this of all things, but her hormones were out of balance and…and she just felt so hurt. “What’s wrong with me, Newt?” She questioned. “Am I that…that…disgusting?”

“What? No, of course not,” He disagreed quickly, and his hand was light on her knee. “Why would you think that?”

“Why?!” Tina repeated, inexplicably angry now too. “Because you haven’t touched me in weeks! You’re barely touching me now, and it’s like you’d rather do anything but touch me!”

Newt started to shake his head. “It’s not because I’m repulsed or anything, Tina, I promise. It’s just…well…” He lowered his head, suddenly ashamed. “Since what happened in December, I’ve found that I’m…I’m rather afraid that you’ll break if I do anything like that.”

“Break?”

“I can’t help but worry that it might hurt the baby,” He continued, and his face had gone red. “I know in the past it’s never hurt our children, but the Healer said this one was high-risk and…and I don’t want to be responsible for putting them in danger like that.”

Tina was absolutely dumbfounded. “You…You’re afraid you’ll hurt the baby?” She asked, astounded by this admission. “Newt, don’t be ridiculous! Even if this one is high-risk, you wouldn’t hurt the baby at all; the Healers so far have told me they’re perfectly healthy. I just have to keep my stress levels down – and having sex isn’t going to cause me any stress, I can assure you now.”

“I didn’t think you’d want to, to be honest,” Newt muttered, still looking somewhat embarrassed. “I thought that perhaps you were…well, too tired to do it, or too concerned for the baby.”

“I am concerned for the baby,” Tina agreed seriously. “But this won’t hurt them – this will make me feel better, if anything else. I thought that you didn’t want to because…well…”

“No,” He admitted. “I did – I do. Your appearance has nothing to do with it at all; you know how I feel about you, how I think you’re stunning no matter what…and I know you often think I’m being overly sentimental when I say that, or you think I’m saying it for the sake of saying it, but I wouldn’t ever lie to you, Tina.”

Despite herself, she smiled weakly. “No, I suppose not.”

“I’m sorry if my, erm, lack of attention has made you feel like I don’t love you in that way,” Newt apologized quietly. “If I had known how you felt, I certainly wouldn’t have laid here doing nothing; I would have done something about it.” The corners of his lips were turning up now, a grin starting to light his face. “If you’d like, we could start this whole night over again – and I could show you exactly how I feel instead of just talking about it.”

A laugh bubbled out of Tina then and she met him in a kiss – it really had been too long, after all, and so there was no time wasted with soft or gentle kisses before she was pulling at his nightclothes eagerly. He made sure he was careful of the protruding bump, of course, but other than that…well, it was more than easy to love her like this, in a way they’d both become more than accustomed to and fond of over the years.

“Move over, Phoenix, I wanna feel!”

Phoenix huffed but moved away from their mother’s stomach all the same. “It’s just kicking.”

“So? I wanna feel it!” Linnet pressed her face against the bump, cherub cheek warm against the stretched skin, and waited. “I don’t… Oh!” Her face broke out into a wide grin. “That was a kick, I felt it!”

“Hang on!” Leo cried out, struggling onto his tiptoes so that he could press his ear against the baby bump too. “I haven’t felt it!”

Tina laughed at the three of them, unable to help it; this had become an almost-daily routine, the three of them pressing themselves against her stomach to feel the baby kicking. They were even starting to get somewhat competitive about it – about who could feel the baby’s movements the most.

“I don’t feel it, Mummy,” Leo murmured sadly, pouting up at her. “Where is it?”

“Here,” She said fondly, and she took his hand in her own so that she could move it to the other side of the bump. “Wait a moment, they’ll kick.”

Leo waited, eyes wide as he stared at his hand – and then he giggled happily. “Oh, I felt it, Mummy, I felt it!”

“They’re strong, huh?”

He nodded in agreement. “Uh-huh… I felt it again! Hello, Baby!” He chattered excitedly, beaming at her abdomen. “I’m Leo and Mummy says I’m your big brother – I’ve never been a big brother before! Mummy,” He started, looking up at his mother. “Do you think I’ll be a good big brother?”

“Of course,” Tina assured him before turning to the older two children. “You’re all going to be fantastic big siblings to the baby.”

“I still hope it’s a girl,” Linnet informed her, side-eying Phoenix. “We’ve got enough boys in the house.”

Phoenix rolled his eyes at her. “Says you.”

“It doesn’t matter whether it’s a boy or a girl,” Tina told them both hurriedly, sensing an argument brewing. “We’re all gonna love them, no matter what.”

“I don’t mind either one, Mummy,” Leo told her happily. “I just can’t wait to be a big brother – I’m always the little one, but now I won’t be!”

She ruffled his messy hair with a smile. “I know, Leo – and I’m sure the baby will love you very much for being their big brother.”

The children weren’t the only one excited by the kicking – Newt, of course, had always been fond of feeling the little tremors when he pressed his hand to her growing belly over the years, often cooing and talking to the bump. This time was no different, of course, and it made her feel all warm whenever she saw him whispering sweet things to their unborn baby as his face lit up.

“Hello there,” He murmured affectionately as he clambered into bed one night, pressing his face to her swollen abdomen. “Mummy said you’re feeling restless today, haven’t stopped kicking…will you kick for me?”

There was a pause – and then a series of flutters against his palm.

“Ah, wonderful,” Newt chuckled. “You’re very strong, aren’t you? You’ll be a Chaser, I bet, when you go to Hogwarts…Well, it’s time to sleep now; Mummy needs her sleep, and you do too – but we’ll talk tomorrow, won’t we? And you can kick some more then for us.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Tina laughed fondly, reaching for him. “You’re so wonderfully, absolutely ridiculous.”

Newt was grinning as he hovered above her, all bright eyes and freckles. “Maybe, but I know you love it, dear.”

“Yeah,” She agreed, voice dropping ever so slightly as a hand intertwined itself in his hair. “I do love it… I love you.”

Hooray for implied smut XD Guess what kind of material will be in the outtake story? ;)

Honestly, though, pregnant women can be horny as fuck (or so I’ve read in my research) because of hormones going crazy – so it’s fun for both of them, if you get my meaning.

Thanks for your love and support, guys, I love you all! ❤

[berrycakeness]

It’s the blog post you’ve been waiting for…

So there are a couple of reasons why it’s taken me so long to blog about my birthday:

1) My Birthday celebrations were extended excessively (I still have two more outings planned). I wanted to encapsulate all events into one post.

2) Work has been relentless, and the last thing I’ve had motivation for is to write.

Anyway, ignoring the fact I have a chocolate workshop and a cocktail night to look forward to, I shall start at the best place – the start.

“I turned 30”

I had a nightmare the night before, and slept awfully on my birthday too. Either I was seriously affected by the ageing process or I think too much. I expect the latter, now off to frantically Web M.D the first.

Nothing much else has changed. I’m definitely however less likely to be the youngest person in the room. Bouncers will stop asking for ID and I’ll start drinking tonic water. Slimline obvs. As I have a fair few (older) friends who have long passed through to their 40’s or have recently levelled up, I think everything’s gunna be alright. (Name that tune, not too hard..).

I have developed an awareness of younger people more so than ever. I know for certain I’m that twat who reminds people of our age difference, but since I’ve realised recently that they teach GOOGLE DOCS in schools and not trusty ol’ Microsoft office, I now understand the generation gap. Now off to frantically join the Google learning centre. Oh my, ‘the’ and ‘google’ should never sit side by side in a sentence. Ever.

My first event was a great kick off to the new decade. Annie treated me to a wonderful set of presents. I received my sparkly new ipad case after a day of shopping and a wonderful 9 course dinner with champagne. Yes, 9 courses. Mitz and Nolwenn joined us and we stuffed ourselves with the finest of yum. We didn’t take photos, we were being too sociable for that. Of course that means I don’t have anything to share from the experience other than the memory of fine dining and wanting every dinner to taste amazing forever more. The venue was Eight Club Moorgate, a private club that has opened up it’s doors to us common folk. I recommend it highly, but definitely midweek. We had the best table in the house and were served by very attentive staff. The company was perfect, and I will remember the night for a long time to come. Thank you ladies for a fabulous evening.

 A very berry cocktail. Or two.

Next? Hmm. What was next…*checks diary, facebook and whatsapp*

I think it was my actual birthday, which I always try to spend with my parents as y’know, they gave me life and apparently I owe them some of my very valuable time every now and then. Valuable time I must add that I could spend watching shit on Netflix. Ah I’m joking, I’d be asleep instead.

Just before that though, I went to work. I try to go to work on my birthday as otherwise I’d just sit alone doing not much all day. Stevie gave me a traditional Edinburgh breakfast of a bottle of Irn Bru and a chocolate croissant (She’s a posh scot really), and around halfway through the day I was presented with a card and a balloon. Eventually my real present was given to me a few days after the day which was a beer tour! I’ve yet to cash in my vouchers so one of you lucky people will get to come with me. Unless I can go twice…ha.

SCOTLAND!

LAD LAD LAD LAD

My birthday dinner was our traditional family pasta that my dear mother makes so well. It’s a variety of vegetables in tomato sauce with the all important ingredient of bacon. And a side of garlic bread. Home comfort is what I needed the most, and I throughly enjoyed my time. Got some cash from the folks (make it raaaain), a switch game from Tom, Annie had already given me my presents and nothing from Lewis. A promise of a present was given, and I waited patiently (more to come).

My birthday weekend was prebooked many months prior, not particularly for my birthday but I’m counting it. C2C festival!

  Yes, I’m a little bit country. Ok, maybe a bit more than a little. Leaky, Lewis (still without present, attempted to make me want a cowboy hat) and I started the weekend with a bit of booze, and a lot of music. My first festival of the year (second was a beer festival), we swayed, bopped and did a bit of a jig in our seats to a few of our favourites and some new favourites. That list includes: Old Dominion, Faith Hill, Tim McGraw, Luke Combs, Little Big Town, Lindsay Ell and Lukas Nelson, who happens to be in a rock band but also happens to be Willie Nelsons son. Leaky almost died of boredom listening to EmmyLou Harris and disappeared to (I assume) cry halfway through.

So that’s the first week of March out of the way, and this post is beginning to become a novel. Still, I shall prevail and continue to make you wait for my birthday party verbiage.

Di, Stevie and I went out midweek and I made Di drink a glass of limes.

Boozing on a weekday

Limey goodness

The party. See, I didn’t make you wait too long.

I didn’t spend too much time with party prep this time, but as tradition dictates I took a day off to bake and to get some posters printed, but mostly enjoyed my day off drinking buckets of coffee. The theme was fancy dress, because I’m annoying like that. The fancy dress theme was musicians, which confused a few people. Apparently musicians write their own music, and so I was limiting the choice to people who were dead or too current. Regardless, I stormed ahead.

There’s not much to write about, so I will leave the pictures to tell their own story. However, it was a fantastic party and I was so glad to have lots of different friends from various walks of live attend.

Yearly photo with the flatmate

Crime busters of the sea..

Slash was supposed be swearing, but peace got in the way.

Mr and Mrs Cash, with their dearest little Ring o’fire

Cowgirl and the Dandy.

Bowiecarter

Bowiecash

Bowietracy

Where’s your Stash, Johnny Cash?

Siblings + Johnny Cash.

Moby no dick?

Midst performance of Believe.

HEY BRITNEY! Madonna ft Britney

Dollybowiecher

Bettecherbowie

Madonnabowiechercarter

Boobs propping up the keys nicely there. Apparently chord playing.

Laughing Cherbowie, pretty June!

Queen Cherbowie

Selfie

Selfie

Selfie

Give a girl a headpiece and a boy some boot covers and all of a sudden they’re fashionistas.

BetteMichael

Costumes off, no idea who these people are

Shark attack!

The datties face pull in town.

Dancing in the ring of fire, with a can of Stella.

Even inflatable monkeys need a drink

Beat that drum

I mustache you a question.

Duckface!

You’re a wizard, Harry.

BetteSlash

LEAVE BRITNEY ALONE

A lap dance, with a can of stella.

Dolly Sharkton goes to bed

Alright, I had about 6 different costumes but it was my birthday (month) and I could do what I wanted to do. (Name that tune, adapted to past tense). The intention was to start as Bowie and morph into Cher. Once Cher, I was to change my wigs periodically throughout the night. However, I rushed it and did it throughout the song “Believe” to much comic relief. There are a couple of videos, and as much as I would love to post them I can’t do that to myself. If you’re particularly intrigued and happen to be a friend, get me drunk and I’ll show you from a distance of at least 5 paces.

Leaky and I took the next day slowly recovering by mostly stuffing our faces.

At some point, we had work drinks to celebrate my birth. We ran up a healthy bar tab and got suitably tipsy. I chose the Draft House – Chancery Lane as it’s very close to the office and they have one of my favourite ales on tap. For the life of me, I cannot remember it’s name but I know that it is Australian, and is rather citrus tasting. Diana attacked Matt and he left soon afterwards. I walked Di to Charing Cross as she cannot be trusted to walk alone anymore (I’ve made it a regular excuse to walk more steps of an evening – not that she’s drunk every time..) and got home later than I really should on a Thursday evening.

The reservatation was literal.

Matt attack!

That weekend was pure indulgence. Annie, Mitz, Nolwenn and I spent a weekend in a Spa in the cute town of Stratford upon Avon. Not only was it exactly what I needed, but it left me wanting even more. I need the extravagance of being pampered on a daily basis, but girl got bills to pay. Another fantastic weekend was enjoyed by all, again, thank you ladies!

Timeline wise, we’re now near to the end of March. Let us skip forward a little bit to April where I spent an evening in POTIONS CLASS.

But just before that, on Annies Birthday (8th April) Lewis gave me my present! Some great Rick and Marty merch.

Back to POTIONS CLASS. Yes, Mitz and I were given robes and a wand, and a shit ton of mysterious liquids to make the magic happen. The cynics of you may believe it was simple chemistry but that’s what they want you to believe. #fakenews

Cocktails were made and consumed in a small basement in the middle of the slightly less magical area of London – Dalston. If you’re interested, it’s called the Cauldron and it’s definitely worth a trip. A wonderful birthday present, and I felt like a true Hogwarts student. Just don’t buy their house cocktails, they were terrible. Seriously, the worst I had ever tried, except for their gin concoction and their shooter. Urgh. But otherwise, probably the best thing related to Dalston

Stir potions

From blue to purple!

Brewing with Mitz

Magical booze tree

Smoking shooters

.

Then, Jackie had been messaging me for weeks trying to get a date in the diary the diary that I kept forgetting about, but mostly being too busy with sleeping to have time for. However, we agreed a date and I made my way to Angel (my favourite part of town) for brunch at Dead Dolls House. As I had not asked Jackie any questions, I was surprised to be asked whether I wanted to start drinking straight away or until she arrived. Yes, bottomless mimosas and a very yummy brunch indeed. After our two hours of boozing, we slipped next door to sing our hearts out at Lucky Voice. I took some convincing (I think Jackie said “Ah come on, let’s do it” and then I had to convince her when we were informed of the cost of hiring “Jacks it’s the same cost of a round of drinks, it’s nothing” Note, I sometimes call her Jacks, but mostly Jackie. It depends on my mood, but I always wonder if she notices…*waves*

Despite our protests, we both walked into the room, shooed away the guy who gives you the microphone and tells you how everything works (being lucky voice, half of it never works) and sang for a good 90 minutes. Walking out at 4pm being now relatively sober and it being sunny was quite disconcerting. Jackie then treated me to some ice cream (I know it’s a bore, its just for my throat. I need a layer of protection) and overall, it was the perfect birthday day I could have hoped for. Jackie knows me well! So thank you ma’am.

And I suppose, that’s about it. Thanks to everyone who took part, you have made it a good one xxx

Every now and then I fall apart It's the blog post you've been waiting for... So there are a couple of reasons why it's taken me so long to blog about my birthday: