#of it/them. DEFINITELY want to check out the poppy war now

[callixton]

can i say as a self confessed enjoyer of ‘dark academia’ books i think it is fucking stupid to refer to it as a genre rather than like. a trait

[dulltoned]

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven

Clay sat perched up on one of the many stone clusters scattered around the entrance of the bunker with a clipboard sat on his lap, an inventory for Branch's perishables printed across each page in neatly made rows and columns. He wanted to help out with his brother's organization but Branch was adamant that his system didn't need any adjustments. Clay had hesitated then, wondering what else he could do to take some weight off of Branch's shoulders, but before he could even ask Branch had shoved a list and a pen in his hands and asked him to check the stock on the lower level. Clay was more than happy to have a task to do. This has definitely been the longest he's gone in quite a while without having a job to keep on top of and it was starting to make him antsy. He had only made it halfway through the five-page list, Branch had a lot more perishables than he expected, and so he made his way up to the surface after a few hours to get some fresh air.

That had been two hours ago. He's looked over the list at least fifteen times now, checking and double-checking that he hadn't overlooked anything so far, and he was quickly running out of excuses to stay outside. But Viva had come over with Queen Poppy and so her friends and his older brothers were locked in an outrageous water balloon fight over in the clearing he conveniently had a perfect view of. It looked like a lot of fun. Clay wasn't fun anymore.

He's been trying to subtly keep an eye on the all-out war waging just a few meters away, watching as the group laughed and splashed about. They cheered and groaned in equal measure with each blow that landed and Clay wondered with no small amount of yearning whether or not they'd split into teams or if it was a free-for-all game. It took all of his focus to not jump up and join in. He'd spent years proving that he was more than just the fun one, that he still deserved to be taken seriously, and he would be damned if he threw all of that away just for one silly little water balloon fight.

His frustration with himself only grew when his ability to do his one task was inhibited. He knew he was being ridiculous. He could very well just get up and head back inside but he hadn't yet found the willpower. Each time he nearly gave in and went back in to finish up his work another loud cheer would break out or they'd spread apart to start another round and he'd be drawn right back in.

He doesn't know why this was so hard for him. He's been just fine all these years and he found a lot of joy in the work he did for the community back at the golf course. It seems that his restlessness was starting to get to him in ways he hadn't really considered. There was an eagerness buried under his skin that called for something to do and he could admit to himself that he still wanted to throw himself full-force into the parties and events that made up Troll Village. There were a lot of parties and events in Troll Village. Clay has still gone to his fair share of get-togethers with Viva unbeknownst to his siblings. It was easy to let loose with Viva. Viva never once doubted that he was someone serious and respectable and she had been a large contributor to how he viewed himself now. It was also really nice to be able to come back to the peace and general quiet of Branch's bunker, unwind from a loud day full of bright colors in the comfortable quiet surrounded by muted and natural tones. There was a balance that Clay found for himself that he really enjoyed but he was afraid of showing that to his brothers. He'd been so adamant after seeing them all that he was no fun at all anymore but he'd never expected to spend any extended period of time with them again.

He couldn't escape it now, he supposes, and honestly he doesn't want to. He had forgotten how much he loved them. He'd never say that to their faces but he was grateful to have them in his life again. His cold relationship with John Dory has even improved significantly and he finds that it's actually really nice to talk to his eldest brother. They've spent a few long afternoons just chatting around the bunker, exchanging stories about their lives since the band broke up. It was still weird to see John really listening but it was a nice kind of strange.

Another round of cheers breaks out and drags Clay from his thoughts. He looks up to see one of Poppy's friends drenched, the big blue one, with an empty bucket rolling along across the grass beside him. He's clutching his pet worm to his chest as he guffaws, pushing his hair back with his free paw. Clay groans softly and lets his head fall onto the clipboard with a muted thunk.

A light chuckle from somewhere behind him startles him out of his wallowing and he whips his head around to see Floyd and Branch making their way over. "Having fun?" Floyd pressed with a soft smile on his face. It's clear that it's one of his bad days. His eyes have large bags hanging under them and he moves slowly without his usual grace. Clay can even see his hands shaking slightly after he gets a little closer.

"Me? Never." Clay scoffs and smiles back in greeting. He raises his clipboard in one hand, spinning his pen expertly in the other, "Just getting some fresh air while I check over my work." They exchange a look that Clay can't really place and Branch hoists himself up onto the rocks that Clay has made his home the last couple hours. "What brings you two out here? Poppy finally convince you to join in?" He turns a teasing look to Branch.

"Ha, ha," Branch deadpans, looking every part unimpressed. Fun or no fun Clay could never give up messing with his brother.

"Also getting some fresh air," Floyd cuts in before their banter could escalate. "I really needed to be outside for a little." He shrugs but Clay's smile drops at the haunted look in those pink eyes. Despite everything it could still be so difficult to overlook everything that Floyd has been through. He still hasn't told them just how long he'd been trapped with Velvet and Veneer but even the handful of hours that Clay had been held captive had been enough to rattle him to his core. Floyd was fragile in a way the rest of them weren't, his heart on his sleeve despite how delicate it could be. On days like this Clay was reminded that despite that Floyd was no less strong.

"Well, you're more than welcome to join me," Clay assures warmly, he glances back at his clipboard and very pointedly ignores the game going strong in the background. "Just don't expect much from me in terms of company." Because he was working and not because he was captivated by the water balloon fight. Obviously.

"Thanks," Floyd's smile is soft and he takes Branch's hand when the other offers him help. Branch easily pulls Floyd up and Clay wonders if Floyd is just that light or if Branch is just that strong. "What're you working on?" He asks as he settles down between Branch and Clay.

"Oh," Clay blinks. He had expected their conversation to end there. Sure, he wanted to be taken seriously but he didn't expect the others to have any interest in his work. He was always entertaining back then, he told good jokes and did cool dances, but he expected their attention to drift elsewhere when they realized he was being boring. He didn't really think that would change just because they were older now. It was the price he had to pay for the results he wanted. The only person who seemed to enjoy things like this in the way he did was Branch. It made something melt sweet and soft beneath his ribs to see Floyd expressing a real interest. "It's inventory for some of Branch's provisions. I wanted to help out a little so he asked me to take stock of the perishables." Saying it out loud he knows it doesn't sound interesting. All the detail work and the tedious counting rarely caught anyone's attention. Even Clay got bored of cataloging like this from time to time.

"Oh, yeah, should probably know what you have if it can expire." Floyd realizes, nodding along. He looks pale now that Clay can see him in the sun. Floyd's pelt is a bit dull still compared to Clay's own and there's a haziness to his eyes that speaks more to how unwell he's feeling than to bad memories. "I'm honestly a bit surprised you have more than what's in the pantry," Floyd turns his head to Branch and the older two bask in how the tips of Branch's ears turn a deep blue. Clay wasn't stupid. He's seen that Branch's skin isn't as saturated as the rest of theirs, even compared to a still-recovering Floyd. He doesn't know if anyone else has given it much thought and he's pushed it to the back of his mind. The possible implications made his stomach twist and he didn't want to jump to any conclusions. Maybe after years of holing up with Viva a bit of her paranoia had rubbed off on him. Either way, it was really nice to see some color back in Branch's face.

"I may have stocked up when I knew you guys would be staying." Branch mumbles, averting his gaze and staring intensely down at the tall grass brushing against the rocks.

"Aw," Clay coos because he can't resist. "You bought real food just for us." He reaches over, carefully avoiding knocking too hard into Floyd sat between them, and ruffles Branch's hair. Expectantly Branch quickly tries to push him away, hands flailing up to bat at the offending arm. It was becoming a running joke between the three eldest brothers to see who could manage to touch Branch's hair the most before they went home. Branch was usually quick enough to duck away or hide behind someone else but there were still plenty of opportunities to catch him by surprise.

"The rations are real food," Branch argues, successfully untangling Clay from his hair and scooting away for good measure. He shoots Clay a sharp glare and huffs, though he doesn't retaliate. "They're for emergencies though. I only had enough fresh food stocked up for me and apparently it's important to be a good host." Branch rolls his eyes and Clay can already picture Poppy ranting with great exasperation at Branch about the importance of taking care of your guests.

"Thanks Branch," Floyd says it with such sincerity that Clay couldn't even hope to follow it up with any more teasing remarks. Well played, Floyd. It's interesting to see Branch immediately soften under Floyd's kindness. There was a general affection that rested on Branch's features when he thought no one was looking, content in a tired way that felt like it should be foreign to the youngest of them, but he always visibly relaxed with Floyd. It makes sense. Floyd was the one who brought them all together, and Floyd caused the least amount of ruckus, but Clay thinks there's something more to it that he's just not privy to.

"Of course," Branch nods, shyly soaking up the gratitude. Clay has learned that Branch isn't really used to others being grateful for him. He doesn't know exactly why, whether no one ever really explicitly thanked him or he'd never had someone who could, but Poppy made it no secret that she was always grateful for Branch. His face got several shades darker every time.

Another round of cheers draws Clay's attention before he can think to ignore them. Viva is somehow covered in glitter and cackling like a madwoman, leaning heavily on a chortling Poppy to stay upright. Branch chuckles and Clay glances over to see the other troll shaking his head fondly with an easy smile on his face. His face always melts when Poppy is involved. The Queen flips some sort of switch in him that rounds out all his sharp edges. Clay doesn't know how to thank her for being there for Branch but he wants to find a way. Maybe he'll ask Viva.

"You know, you could always take a break," When Clay looks at Floyd his expression is far too knowing. Clay hates it when Floyd gets smug. He's sure the last twenty years have only made Floyd better at being a little shit. Floyd's expression only turns smug, though, when Clay doesn't immediately respond. He tilts his head towards the ongoing game, silently urging Clay to get up and enjoy himself.

"Psh, what?" Clay waves a paw, "Nah, why would I do that?" Even to his own ears he sounds painfully unconvincing. He had an image to upkeep now and he wasn't about to shatter it just because he had no self-control.

Branch tilts his head, raising an eyebrow, "Why not?" His confusion catches Clay off guard a little. He'd expected Branch to question him the least. Out of everyone, Branch is the only troll around who wouldn't want to participate simply because he didn't feel like it. "It's not like that's gonna take you the rest of the day, and it's not important anyway." Branch gestures to the clipboard with a shrug, settling back on his paws and turning his head back towards the fun. "The more the merrier, right?" Coming out of anyone else's mouth the question would've been rhetorical.

"It's not really my scene anymore, Bitty B," Clay tries to explain with a warm smile, watching fondly as Branch's face screws up at the nickname. "I don't really do that kind of thing anymore, I got my own stuff to do." He wiggles the clipboard again. Branch's frown doesn't move, if anything it only becomes more pronounced. Floyd and Branch look at each other again and this time Clay can practically see the silent conversation bouncing between the two. He doesn't know when this happened, they didn't have time to cultivate this kind of close relationship without everyone else noticing, but Clay has never felt more like the middle child than he does right now. With his two youngest brothers conspiring against him and his older brothers off doing the exact thing he yearned to do he felt particularly out of the loop.

"You know," Floyd starts. It's not a good sign when Floyd starts. Floyd won't hesitate to give him shit. "No one will care if you have some fun." Clay expects teasing, some remark about how he'll always be the fun one, but Floyd's face is sincere and open. Clay's stomach twists and he resists the urge to focus his attention back on the clipboard. That'd only look like he was avoiding eye contact.

Clay rolls his eyes, "That'd be great. If I wanted to." He places the clipboard aside and subtly stretches out his fingers. He hadn't realized just how hard he'd been gripping the wood until he'd let go. "Seriously, guys, I'm good. I'm right where I want to be." He goes for a reassuring smile but Branch is looking at him with those calculating eyes of his so Clay knows he's screwed. He sighs, sticking a hand into his messy hair and picking at a knot there, "I'm fine, really. I have work to do right now and I don't know if I'm comfortable being the fun guy in front of so many trolls." Branch's gaze softens and Clay lets out a relieved exhale. Floyd's smile is sympathetic as he hugs his knees to his chest.

"I get it," Branch nods, turning his gaze away again. That only sparks Clay's unease again. Branch avoided eye contact sometimes when things got emotional. Floyd says it's an easy way to disconnect yourself from the situation without leaving. Clay thinks Branch is just awkward. Bruce thinks they can both be right. "After the Bergens discovered that they could be happy without eating a troll a lot of Poppy's friends tried to invite me to things afterwards. Ya know, since I helped out. It took me a while to take them up on it, I didn't want anyone to think that I was an entirely different troll just because we all went on some crazy adventure together." He shrugs and clears his throat, turning his head back towards his bunker when his discomfort rises.

Clay laughs, "I don't know what that has to do with me," He tries to play it off but quiets quickly when Floyd shoots him a pointed look.

Branch huffs a soft laugh and turns back at him just far enough for Clay to see him roll his eyes. "I wanted people to still take me seriously, and not assume that just because I changed I suddenly wanted to do everything a normal troll does. Don't get me wrong I love being a troll, and it's nice to do things every now and then, but I'm also still me." Floyd gently knocks into Branch and offers an encouraging smile when it seems like Branch is getting off track. Branch clears his throat again, "Right, the point is that I know what it's like. To avoid doing things so that people don't look at you differently." Finally Branch makes eye contact again and Clay is taken aback by the open compassion there. It's warm and understanding and makes Branch's blue eyes shine. "You can still have fun sometimes, Clay. We know that's not all you are."

Floyd quickly agrees, jumping in to give Branch a moment to pull his thoughts together and compose himself. "No one is gonna hold it against you if you want to enjoy yourself." Which is such a nice sentiment and Clay knows they both mean it but… but it's different when it comes from your younger brothers. Of course they'd still take him seriously. To at least some extent they'll always remember the days when they were kids and he knew more than them. When they were kids they could come to Clay for things, whether they took him seriously or not, because more often than not he had the answers or knew someone who did. Floyd's encouraging smile dims when Clay clearly isn't convinced.

Branch sighs, tilting his head back with a small groan of genuine frustration, "Clay," he starts firmly, rolling his head back up to clock Clay with a dark look. "The only person who you're gonna convince with this is you. No one is all stiff and professional all the time, and everyone has hobbies that they do for fun. If you want to have fun you should. You're not the fun one anymore but that doesn't mean that you can't hang out with your friends." Branch stands with a grimace, holding out a paw to Clay. Clay stares blankly back for a few long moments before Branch impatiently shakes his offered hand and Clay takes it on instinct.

Branch pulls him unceremoniously to his feet and drags him off the rocks and off toward the commotion without so much as a pause. "Woah, woah, hey," Clay protests, trying to pull back only to find that Branch's grip is strong. He turns back to Floyd in search of help but Floyd just offers a smug little wave with a smug little grin. "What're you doing?"

"We," Branch corrects, "Are gonna go join a stupid water balloon fight." The closer they get the more trolls pause in their battle to send them curious glances. Clay can already feel the nerves building under his skin but they're chased away by the growing excitement and anticipation. Branch was offering him an excuse. He saw that Clay wanted to join but he was too caught up in himself to take the chance and he decided that he'd give Clay an in. Clay's heart bursts with affection, warmth seeping into his body that had nothing to do with the summer sun.

"Hey," John Dory greets, hair soaked and dripping water from tall strands hanging in front of his face. He tosses a water balloon lazily into the air, catching it lightly while his eyes flick between them. His smile widens when Branch and Clay stop only a few feet away. The whole field was still, waiting with baited breath for the next move. Clay was equally frozen wondering just what Branch would say. Branch, as it turns out, doesn't say anything. He takes one step forward, sighs a long-suffering sigh, and extends his arms out on either side of him in open acceptance.

Approximately three water balloons slam into Branch at once; John Dory lands a swift bullseye to Branch's face, Poppy hits him square in the torso, and Bruce gets a shot in on Branch's hip. Branch falls back like a man shot, landing on his back with a quiet oof, and looks up at Clay with a deadpan expression ruined by the shine in his eyes and the nearly imperceptible twitch of his lips. "Avenge me." He monotones.

Clay doesn't hesitate to jump into the fray. Chaos erupts across the field as every troll scrambles for ammunition. Viva joins Clay in his quest for vengeance and Poppy cries betrayal when her sister nails her in the back of the head. Clay can hear Floyd laughing from here. Branch sits up from where he'd fallen, watching with a soft smile as Clay finally lets himself have this. Clay smiles back. He has a lot of fun.

[gabessquishytum]

hi there! long time reader, first time asker, big fan of the blog. I recently discovered this collaborative scifi universe call Human Domestication Guide (they have a wiki! their canon is fascinating) where a benevolent, very intelligent, functionally immortal, shapeshifting alien plant species called the Affini 'domesticated' all humans after the 'terran domestication war' against a capitalist imperialist human government and keep some of the humans as pets and use different kinds of 'xenodrugs' to keep them docile. it's v queer and kinky, with loads of bondage, medical kink, petplay etc.. big potential for monsterfucking tbh.

a majority of the stories in this universe, including the original one, features the relationship between a captured human rebellion soldier and her mistress, and dubcon/noncon brainwashing ensues. BUT, i can't help but wonder what would a war prize!hob & plant!dream HDG AU look like. i personally imagine hob would be just fully on board with such enthusiasm that even baffles dream! meanwhile hob is like nah he never really bought the propaganda of the terran navy anyways and now that he's seen how powerful & altruistic the affini civilisation is? humans never stood a chance. and needless to say the hedonist in hob nearly jumps at the opportunity to become this beautiful shapeshifting plant alien's (have you SEEN dream's plant-adjacent facets in the comics) very, very good human pet (and already halfway fallen in love)

-- 🌳 (if it's not already taken)

Oh I am SO intrigued by this concept!!! Thank you so much for introducing me to this! It sounds right up my street tbh, and I'm definitely going to check out the stories!

I love the idea of an all-powerful alien Dream!!! Especially with plant aspects. Like poppies spreading from his skin, vines twining down from his hair. Like, how is Hob NOT going to fall head over heels? He's been a solider doing shitty soldier things for so long and now he gets to hang out with this beautiful creature who WANTS him??? Literally a dream come true.

I'm imagining incredible potential for sexy outfits here. I mean, latex is usually not top of my kink list, but in a sci-fi universe it feels kind of necessary. Imagine Hob’s upper body beautifully encased in red latex, showing off all his curves and soft edges. He can hardly move but he loves feeling constricted like this. And Dream is so sweet to him when he gets all dolled up, telling Hob that he's the most beautiful pet, the most precious and most obedient.

I love the idea of alien Dream being very fascinated by Hob and his humanness, all his needs to eat and drink and sleep. He's so darling and fragile and Dream just adores taking care of him, keeping him well fed and maybe occasionally dosed up on fun space drugs. Hob loves his life as a spoilt pet who gets nice things and weird alien sex. The way he's gone from muscular, brutalised soldier to pampered well fed pet turns him on so much.

Screw it, if it's Hob, then I DO want to see him covered in latex. Especially the hoboobies. And if we're talking sci-fi, let's not forget the possibilities of oviposition...

[apathyofthesympathetic]

My gift to @daisy-bugs for the @pjo-equinox-solstice-exchange! Ngl I’m not actually sure I need to post this because I had awful wifi for a couple days so I forgot there was a check-in, but I wrote it anyway and I’m going to assume that I should

The only character listed that I didn’t include was Leo, and I did my best to give it a happy ending. I also posted it on Ao3 (registered users only) if you want to read it there. Hope you enjoy!

Nico left the campfire early. He was too exhausted to socialise tonight.

Thankfully, Will was nowhere to be seen, and thus wasn’t present to strongarm him into the infirmary. He instead walked across the greenery to Cabin Thirteen, a gloomy and foreboding building with a pair of black fire torches burning beside the entrance. This wasn’t anywhere near the first time Nico had seen his cabin - he’d slept here at least twenty times since the second Titan War - but he still didn’t really know how to feel about it.

It always felt like it was made for someone else. Like he was intruding in someone else’s house. The inside was too quiet, too pristine, too untouched. Once, he tried messing up the blankets in all the beds to try and make it feel more lived in, but he felt even worse afterwards and ended up fixing them immediately. It was the closest place he had to a home but it still felt… off. He was definitely thankful for the nights of sleep it had given him, but most of the time he shadow travels here and immediately passes out. He doesn’t linger like he’s doing now.

He finds it doesn’t feel quite so alien anymore. It doesn’t feel like he’s trespassing, it feels like he’s finally allowed to be here.

From the outside it was a tall, imposing building, lit with torches of black fire and constructed from marble, concrete and obsidian. It had, both inside and out, accents of gold, silver, hematite, onyx, jet and black tourmaline. Its windows were few and far between, stained dark purple and lined with empty plant boxes, dark curtains drawn over them.

The inside was just as dreary. It had a dozen or so beds, each lined with drapes to separate them from the cabin at large. They all had drawers beneath them and a desk beside them. The far wall was covered in empty bookcases.

In the middle of the cabin there was a dip in the floor, a few steps leading down to an impression lined with cushions and furs and rugs. There was a trapdoor in the centre of the nook, half hidden by a loose blanket. The edges of the impression had plant boxes cut into the floor, filled with soil and covered in blooming plants. A gift from Persephone, no doubt.

Upon closer inspection, each of the plants were labeled with a folded piece of paper half embedded in the soil, which also listed watering instructions and sunlight requirements. Unless someone else had been in here taking care of them the notes were entirely unnecessary. Grey asphodel, red anemone, poppies, and moonflower. One of the plant beds was empty, with only a note that read ‘dandelions, perhaps?’

Nico really hated Persephone.

The flowers glittered like crystals in stark contrast to the otherwise gloomy interior. Though that could be blamed more on the lighting than the plants themselves. Above the nook was a skylight cut into the sloped ceiling, a glass window with an intricate pattern that was stained every colour of the rainbow. It fell across the nook and plants in a rolling fountain of light, glowing like a hoard of gems and dousing the rest of the cabin in colour.

It gave Nico a headache. He went and sat on the edge of the bed he always slept in which, like all the others, resembled a coffin. Polished mahogany frame, brass railing, blood red pillows and blankets. Apparently whoever designed this place thought children of Hades were vampires.

The mattress was soft. The blankets were fluffy. The pillows were smooth. It was the nicest bed he’d had for as long as he could remember.

The bedside drawer had a few of his tokens inside: Bianca’s hat, her sketchbook, his Lotus Hotel credit card, his Mythomagic cards and his figurines, including the one Bianca died for. He’d checked on everything the day he went to Tartarus, and he checked it again now. Everything was as he left it.

Nico took off his sword belt, shoes and socks. He slid under the blanket still wearing the rest of his clothes. He would need to move quickly if they were attacked in the night, having to change would just slow him down. Besides, he didn’t own pyjamas, unless the beds’ drawers came pre-stocked with complimentary clothes.

He didn’t bother checking. He arranged himself into a comfortable position, making sure it didn’t strain his shoulder, and closed his eyes.

He opened them five seconds later.

Nothing was on fire. There was no blood. No bodies. No monsters. No gods of misery intending to torment his soul for the rest of time.

No threats. Nothing dangerous.

Nico closed his eyes.

He adjusted the blanket a minute later. After five he shoved a pillow under his chest. He tried laying on his side, his stomach, his back, but the mattress was too soft and comfortable to relax. The blanket started feeling like it was trying to swallow him whole, so he kicked it away. Before even twenty minutes have passed the pillows join it.

Nico finds himself surveying the rest of the cabin. Like the last time he was here, there’s a thin layer of dust over almost everything, as it had been left relatively alone after construction finished. That’s good, if any enemies decide to spy on him during the night their footsteps would be obvious. There isn’t anything for them to hide behind except the other beds, the impression, and maybe the drapes or curtains.

It was starting to get really cold, so Nico grabbed the blanket again. It’s too warm, too fluffy. Too nice.

After around twenty minutes of staring at the rest of the cabin Nico tried closing the drapes. It’s almost good, the way they shield him away from the rest of the world, but it’s too claustrophobic. He felt closed in, trapped, and knowing that if the cabin was attacked he wouldn’t see the threat makes it all the worse.

He shoved them back immediately, before slinking back to the bed and sitting on it cross legged. He pulled the blanket over his back and let his brain trick itself into thinking it would protect him. The mattress dipped under his weight. It’s too soft, like a marshmallow. Nico felt like it would swallow him if he made a wrong move.

He moved back, managing to not be smothered by a mattress, and leaned his back against the wall. It’s smooth, cold. Perfectly straight and even. It’s easy not to mistake it for the walls of the jar.

Nico tried closing his eyes again. He gives up after five minutes. Where was Hazel? Surely the campfire wasn’t going to last that long. Did something happen to her? He should go out and check -

No, Nico, now is not the time to be an overprotective brother, he chastised himself. Hazel’s earned herself some freedom, she didn’t need an overbearing brother now of all times. She can take care of herself. She’s fine. If camp was attacked he would hear it. If someone died he would feel it.

Unless they attacked in the night. After midnight maybe, once everyone was asleep. They could waltz right into camp and slit everyones’ throats and Nico would be none the wiser. Sure the sheer number of deaths might wake him up, but if the enemy knew that they would kill him first. They’d waltz into the cabin, right up to his bed, and slit his throat or suffocate him so he wouldn’t ruin -

Nico sprang to his feet and began pacing around the nook.

Maybe the infirmary had some melatonin. No, if Will was there he’d force him to spend the night thanks to that ridiculous ‘three nights’ idea Nico agreed to. He wanted to delay that for as long as possible. Besides, then he wouldn’t know if Hazel was still okay. And he’s pretty sure antiseptic and blood wouldn’t be the nicest smell to surround himself with if he’s trying to fall asleep.

But he wasn’t trying to fall asleep, was he?

Nico stopped walking in circles. The fluffy red blanket trailed behind him, collecting dust. Great, there goes his footprints plan.

His eyes caught on the trapdoor in the centre of the nook. What’s underneath it? That might be a good place for monsters to hide.

Nico began descending the stairs only to trip on the last one. He caught himself on his hands with a wince. Maybe he was more tired than he thought.

Oh, yeah, he’s definitely tired. When he blinks it takes him a second or two to open his eyes. That’s not good - he had to be alert.

Nico’s in the middle of lifting up the trapdoor when he remembered the camp’s magical borders would stop any monsters from entering.

That wouldn’t stop any Romans that weren’t fond of the truce. Either way, too late now. He might as well check.

He lifted the trapdoor the rest of the way, squinting into the darkness. A thin flight of stairs descended into a large mostly empty room, lined with shelves and counters and drawers. It looked like a kitchen.

There was a circle of dirt cut into the otherwise stone floor, with an abandoned shovel on top of it. Ah, a setup for spirit summoning. That might be useful. He could check in the morning if the Physician’s Cure worked on Leo.

He hoped it did.

Maybe he should check tonight.

No. If he checks then it becomes real. Then he has to acknowledge it happened. He has to face reality for what it is, even if the reality is that Leo was dead and wasn’t coming back.

If that’s the reality, he’d quite significantly prefer to wait until morning.

Nico closed and leaned away from the trapdoor with a sigh. He’d also prefer to sleep until morning.

Well. That what the others would want him to say, anyway. He’d much rather be alert when they’re inevitably attacked by all the people that promised Gaia aid.

Just then, the door opened. Nico bolted upright and watched Hazel enter, looking exhausted and grief-ridden. She paused in the doorway and looked at Nico. “Can Frank sleep over?”

Her voice shouldn’t be as emotionless as it was. It sounded flat, blank and free of inflection. Nico nodded silently and Frank poked his head in.

They both walked over to the nook and joined him inside, tucking themselves beneath the same blanket and huddling together against the pillows. Something in Nico’s chest eased at their presence. He found it easier to relax now he knew Hazel had not, in fact, been stabbed, mauled, burnt or otherwise attacked.

He was a little frightened by how much he cared about her. Most people he cared about either hated him or died.

He wondered if this is how Bianca used to feel.

He pulled his blanket tighter around himself, leaning against a pillow and making sure he could still see the door and his sister. He forced his muscles to relax - which felt like an oxymoron if there was one - and tried to keep his eyes closed for more than five seconds. He failed miserably of course, but he felt this could be expected. His eyes kept wandering over to Hazel, like he expected her to spontaneously burst into flames. When had he grown so protective of her?

Part of him thinks he always was, that he latched on the second he saw her shade wandering around. Or maybe it was later, when he saw how differently the Legion treated her despite Reyna’s efforts. Maybe it was when he first started comparing her treatment to his own. Maybe it was when he first started helping her get a hold of her powers. Maybe it was when his tongue first slipped and he called her Bianca. Maybe it didn’t matter.

There was a knock on the door, and someone poked their head in. It was Percy and Annabeth. Percy looked apprehensive, like he expected Nico to stab him the second he opened the door, which wasn’t an entirely unreasonable assumption. It was Annabeth that spoke. “Hello? Sorry, we saw Frank and Hazel come in here. We were wondering if we could sleep over.”

Hazel smiled, cheeks dimpling. She and Nico said “Sure” at the same time.

Nico silently resigned himself to keeping as far away as possible. Thankfully Percy seemed to be on the same page, and he and Annabeth laid down on the far side of the nook.

Nico stared up at the stained glass skylight. Mostly to avoid looking at Percy. The moon and stars shone pinpricks of multicoloured light down around them, like a rainbow had shattered and left pockets of colour floating through the air. It felt oddly serene, like it was actually Iris or some other god laying their protection over them. He couldn’t understand how something associated with his father could be so beautiful.

(Well, aside from Persephone, but she was a bitch.)

He didn’t know colours could be so comforting.

The pinpricks of light shone on Percy like a sunset reflecting off the shore. The ones over Annabeth were warm and soft, like books and blankets and stuffed animals. Hazel’s glittered like a hundred different gems, like she was surrounded by wealth and beauty and yet the thing she gravitated towards most was Frank, whose lights shone like lanterns reflecting off a cat’s eye, like the glint of teeth and the edge of a shield.

Frank was sleeping as a human for once. Nico was pretty sure he preferred to sleep as a bulldog. He and Hazel were curled loosely around each other, a fluffy blanket tucked up to their chins. Frank seemed to have fallen into a fitful rest but Hazel was still awake, blinking open her eyes every few seconds to take stock of her surroundings. Percy and Annabeth were in much the same boat, though Percy was determinedly pretending to be asleep, like he could manage to trick his own body. Annabeth’s eyes were closed and she was tucked into Percy’s chest. The only sign she was awake was her hand slowly spinning the beads on her necklace.

Nico adjusted his blanket again. It didn’t feel like it was suffocating him anymore. He was just uncomfortable enough to be able to relax.

That didn’t stop his entire body from tensing as someone else knocked on the door.

Reyna poked her head in, and he slumped back over in relief. Reyna was amused by that if the tone of her voice was anything to go by, “I see you’re still awake. Mind if I join the sleepover?”

“Sure,” Nico told her quietly. She looked even more exhausted than Percy, but also more put-together.

She didn’t waste any time before entering, quietly closing the door behind her two automatons, who both stationed themselves by the stairs to the nook like a pair of guardian angels. Reyna had already removed her armour but Nico didn’t doubt she had at least one concealed weapon. She grabbed a particularly soft looking fur and lay down near Nico.

Nico found himself relaxing at her presence. He felt safer around her. She’s proved that she would fight to protect them, she trusted him. And with her dogs standing guard no one would be able to sneak up on them.

It was easier now to actually try to sleep, rather than pretending to. He still felt his eyes drifting open to look at the door or study the others. He tried to remind himself that the dog automatons would wake them up the second they heard any danger. It did little to steady the beat of his heart.

He tried counting. Supposedly, that was meant to help. He managed to count to forty before he abandoned that, and instead started counting his breath, making each inhale deep and every exhale slow.

Time dragged on, slow and mulish, and it was Reyna who broke it. “You’re not in danger, you know,” she said quietly. She was giving him that knowing look. Like she could see past his skin and flesh and bones and was studying his very soul.

Nico doubted his soul would be as interesting as she made it seem. “Feels like I am.”

“Well your feelings are lying to you,” Reyna whispered. “The camp borders keep out monsters. Peleus keeps guard against anything stupid enough to attack it.”

“Are you calling your own army stupid?”

“I’m calling Octavian stupid,” she said with a sly grin. “Thankfully he isn’t around to stir up trouble anymore. The Romans are all happy with the truce. The giants are all dead by the sounds of it. If something happens, if anyone is attacked, someone else will be there to help and we’ll be woken up in no time.”

Despite making these same arguments to himself only an hour beforehand, it felt truer coming from her. Her voice held warm certainty and steely resolve, like the gods themselves had told her her words were true. Like she couldn’t imagine she could be wrong, and even if she was they’d be all right.

Nico found himself believing her.

“Why are you sleeping in this cabin and not with the Legion?”

Reyna tilted her head away from him, staring up at the stained glass. “To be honest? I wanted to make sure you’re safe. I was worried your powers were hurting you again. I needed to make sure that if you went shadowy again I’d be there to help. That you’d still be safe.”

Nico smiled eyed drifting shut. “Thank you, Reyna.”

She smiled as well. “Thank you for letting me protect you.”

(And she was right, in the end. When he woke up in the morning, finding that Jason and Piper had also made their way into his cabin, everything was fine. He had a home, and he was safe there.)

[mysterycharacterflowers]

Round 1; A bouquet of snapdragon, tansy and black eyed susan Vs White poppies

If you know who they are, or are pretty sure of it, please don't tell until this poll has ended!

First, let's talk about the bouquet of snapdragon, tansy and black eyed susan

Meaning and why this flower was chosen: Snapdragon: "Deception, graciousness" - Represents how he has always had to hide some part of who he is from the outside world for fear of punishment, and the mask he keeps up to avoid being scrutinized. Tansy: "Hostile thoughts, declaration of war" - Represents the deep, abiding fury he feels towards the society that forced him into a life of helpless secrecy. Black eyed susan: "Justice" - represents the vigilante-like role he chooses to take up to defy the injustice around him. His eyes are also literally black, which is more relevant than it might seem. Description: He is cringe and he is trapped. He's morally grey; not because he's trans or because he practices forbidden magic, but because he's fourteen years old. He's definitely therian on top of being trans, but hasn't realized it because of how he's been made to feel dehumanized his entire conscious life.

Check their post here

Now, let's talk about the White Poppies

Meaning and why this flower was chosen: These flowers represent peace, and also serve as a remembrance for casualties of war. My character lost his traveling partner and companion to a duel. His companion agreed to the duel to fight for what he believed in. Additionally, my character lost a bit of himself in all the battles he fought. He is a very peaceful man, but when his companion was slaughtered, he felt the need to avenge him. After he avenged his companion, my character had to abandon his life of peace for a while. Metaphorically, a part of him died in war. Despite every burden, he now lives a life of peace and travel. Description: He was born into a noble family with lots of wealth and luxury, but he never cared for affluence. As the last son of this family, he was too young to do anything but watch as his family’s fortune fell apart. After his lineage lost its nobility, he set out to wander by himself. He is incredibly connected to nature, more specifically the wind. During his travels, he met someone who became his companion and travel partner. The two boys were undoubtedly close, so when a force threatened their livelihood, his companion went to duel one of the members of this group that threatened them. His companion was killed in the duel, which enraged my character, who is usually very calm. He avenged the death of his companion, and became a samurai for several years. Eventually he became wanted for his battles, and while on the run, he was taken in by a fleet which is where he currently resides, where he now lives a relatively peaceful life of handling cargo with the occasional naval warfare. He still remembers his companion who passed, and I headcanon that he carries a white poppy with him in remembrance

Check their post here

[cityandking]

amaryllis, lavender, poppy, rose for dai, minah and another you'd like to talk about!!

tyyyyyy // botanical headcanons

amaryllis: what is something or someone that your muse takes pride in? how do they express that pride?

DAI — he takes pride in his strength and his growth. he spent a lot of time working through how he sees the world and what his place is in it, which was hard and confusing and lonely work, but he also feels that it was good and important and that he's a better (and truer, and more solid) version of himself for having done it. I don't know if he externalizes that in any specific way, but he's definitely mentioned it in the dad letters MINAH — at the end of the day she really is a good thief! she worked hard to learn and hone those skills and they've served her well! she mostly expresses this by a) stealing shit and b) being quietly but extremely smug about it KELANI — the peace and equilibrium she's cultivated. it was such a struggle to achieve but she's so much better for it. every now and then this comes out as a "when I was your age" anecdote, but mostly (because pride is unbecoming) she accepts the satisfaction and lets it go.

lavender: how easy is it to gain your muse’s trust? once their trust is broken, how might one go about mending it?

DAI — he'd really like to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, but he's pretty wary these days. he gets protective, y'know? I do think it's still pretty easy to earn his trust, but now it's something that has to be earned, versus something he'll give out. as for breaking his trust, it depends on who's breaking it and what the breakage is—if it's someone he's close with, he's more than willing to give them a second (or third, or fourth—there area few people he'd let really push his boundaries) chance to prove themselves. if it's a stranger, good luck. MINAH — it's pretty easy to gain a surface level quid-pro-quo sort of trust. she'll return it easily too; she'll have your back in a fight and keep watch at night and spot a castmate and lie for you on a job. same with mending it—cover her watch, do something to show your apology, and she'll let it go. she's not much for petty grudges. but anything personal is hard. hard to gain, harder to mend. she's been burned before and has no interest in putting herself in such a vulnerable position as trusting someone else with any part of herself KELANI — easy! for one the Force is with her so she's magnificently good at vibe checks. for another, she's incredibly easygoing. she's been in positions where someone who shouldn't have trusted her did, and she kinda uses that as proof that people can be better when given your trust in return. (it's harder after order 66. the whole galaxy gets small and cold and selfish. but before that, even during the war, she held onto trust like it was faith.)

poppy: what comforts your muse?

DAI — zaref :) and the party, but also time alone to unwind. the sky. his dad's cooking. meditating in sunlight. his faith. MINAH — good theater. good art in general. money. a night at a nice inn with a lock on the door. the expanse of the open road. the troupe. cian's sleepytime tea KELANI — meditating. going places where the world is quiet and the Force is warm. her friends. her master. the jedi temple

rose: how much does your muse value other people? do they wish to have many friends, lovers, and/or associates? are they an easy person to love?

DAI — values people immensely, but likes to limit himself to a small group of close companions. too many is overwhelming; he values people for their individuality and the importance of a life but he doesn't want to get up close and personal with all of 'em. I think he's probably an easy person to love, but I'm biased. MINAH — she honestly values people a fair amount (and not just as marks). the care and concern she expresses for others is real—she worries about rhydian, she's sorry for making cian uncomfortable, she doesn't know what to do with riya's grief but she feels bad about it. but she tries to keep her distance—she doesn't want to get too involved with anyone or anything cause she doesn't want anyone or anything to get too involved with her. I think she's an easy person to like and a very hard person to love. KELANI — kel is entirely comprised of compassion. she's a jedi; it's kinda in the job description. she values other more than herself. also, she's never really thought about how many friends/associates she wants because she's part of the order; she has thousands of friends and companions across the galaxy. she never realized how much she took that for granted until they were gone. she's an easy person to love.

[coquelicoq]

#4 for the books asks please

thank you for the ask <3

4. Did you discover any new authors that you love this year?

hmm, i would say yes, except it was never the case that i read more than one book by a new-to-me author and liked all of them. so either i read one book and loved that book, so i think i love the author but i would really need to read more of their stuff to be sure, or i read one book and loved it so searched out more of that person's work and then found myself underwhelmed.

i only read one book by Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah (his book of short stories, Friday Black), but it was incredible.

also only read one book by Nalo Hopkinson (Brown Girl in the Ring), but it made me want to read more of her stuff! and i've come across her short stories in scifi anthologies before and enjoyed them (which was what made me check out the novel). i guess that means she is not technically new to me, though.

Like Water for Chocolate by Laura Esquirel was fantastic. i get the hype now.

another author i only read one book of but loved was Valérie Perrin with Changer l'eau des fleurs. i do actually have another book of hers on my bookshelf right now and will be reading it next year, so we'll see if my opinion can be generalized to her œuvre in general or if i just really like that one book.

i'm not sure i would say i loved The Association of Small Bombs by Karan Mahajan, but i did really like his style, and i found his imagery original and at times quite breathtaking. so i'd be interested in reading more by him sometime!

loved the first book i read by Haruki Murakami (1Q84), felt disappointed by the second book i read (Kafka on the Shore), and in such a way that it retroactively made me like 1Q84 less, lol.

loved the first book i read by R. F. Kuang (Babel), then felt what i can only (and perhaps oxymoronically?) describe as "super meh" about her earlier Poppy War series (which i read all three books of even though i really should have cut my losses). but since that series was her debut, i'm hoping that just means my enjoyment of her writing is trending up as she gets more into her groove.

A Memory Called Empire by Arkady Martine blew me out of the water, but i got kind of sick of her style in the first half of the sequel, A Desolation Called Peace. the book was still really good though. i would definitely read more of her work.

end-of-year book asks for the discerning follower

[stevebabey]

I'm the first anon, thank you so much for understanding. I have those feelings for months now and I'm going crazy lmao.

I wish I could get into character x character stuff, but unfortunately, my stupid brain loves to consume stuff through self insert, so x reader is my preferred outlet for everything :/ I just feel like I don't belong anywhere in this fandom rn in terms of content creation. I'm not into most x reader stuff and I like to explore more character things, but I also don't really belong in there because I'm not a shipper.

It's just so frustrating to see, and the other anon was right. The tiktokification of media and fandoms in general is insane to watch. Like I saw a tiktok that complained that the Poppy War by Rf Kuang was boring because it had no spice. M'am, this is a book about war? 😭 Or, like everything is described in tropes (that's a problem for books, not fanfic per se) for fast consumption, the plot doesn't matter if certain scenarios are not ticked off. Not to mention AI and things like characterAI where people just get quickly what they want without using really their imagination (plus them not caring that this is stealing from real people).

And yeah, the whole minor part. It's insane to tell 12 year olds, that virgins write the best stuff. I'm reading and writing fics since I was 14, and I'm "lucky" I wasn't really exposed to those things until I was 16. English isn't my first language, so fanfics were a bit limited, I guess (plus having a very nieche interest that didn't reach international fame and fandom). Also, I mostly consumed stuff from friends I know irl and we had a few spicy scenes because we were curious, but we never got exposed to hardcore smut. I'm not saying there should be no smut at all, everyone is free to express themselves. It's a problem if the fandom is only that because it creates a space not everyone has access to or gets messed up. Fandom is community and everyone should feel welcome. If I was a minor and all writer blogs tell me to fuck off because they only write mature things, idk if I would even wanna stay. Which is also another problem because fandoms die out so quickly as it is.

Anyway, I don't know where I'm going with this exactly because you already said everything and I agree with you. <33

omg you say you don't know where you're going with this but brought up so many good POINTS

you're not crazy and you're definitely not the only one feeling that way!! i understand completely and it's infuriating that the topic of it is almost tongue in cheek in this fandom and lots of people feel they would be better off biting their tongue than expressing that frustration ://

character x character is something that takes a hot minute to get into i've found, i've honestly only just gotten into it within the last year or so (because i also struggle with like ocs and the like) but i am a long lover of the self insert i can't even lie <3

but there's like a difference between the way you describe this!! i think you're very much like me and it's like a genuine love for a character that drives your desire for writing self-insert- its like i love this dude so much and i want them to be happy and i want to be that source of happiness, i want to be that first kiss or gentle touch they need :D

andddd that's my problem with so much of the smut-leaning fics. where's the soul!?! where's the driving heart of the story? the best fics are the most self indulgent because you can see the best parts of someone in them !!!!

i'm really sorry that you feel like you don't have a place in this fandom but you do definitely belong here honey- fandom is supposed to be a community and there's no prerequisite to existing here at all and the fact there feels like there are certain amounts you have to succeed in to be a writer is so just bleh

tiktok is a goddam brainrotting place lmao and every day im not on it is a great one! the trope shit is SO true, like the idea that if you can check a few boxes (one of those things being smut) its the thing that makes a piece good instead of how it's written and the passion for the story like ugh and don't even get me started on ai 😭 that is a shitshow in itself and anyone who uses that to write fics or complete other peoples fics are absolute garbage people

the minor thing is yeah completely fucked and you raise SUCH a good point about how it limits the spaces that they can occupy which is so fucking stupid cos how many of us started in fandom at young ages??? everyone should feel welcome! and god the thought of someone trying to so hard to avoid nsfw content but just to have it shoved down their throat in every other post and also having so many writers telling them to fuck off ur so right, i wouldn't wanna stay either!

and it's just so so so sad because there are a thousand people who i WISH would write their ideas, write their fics, whether its bad or good first time around because THAT is the point of fandom. love for the source! new ideas! people's new takes on old tropes over and over :D

ah you opened the floodgate in me.... you didn't ask for advice but truly, write the most self indulgent stuff ever and it can't lead you wrong. i hope the culture of fandom changes and every time you ignore the urge to write for what u think people will like and just write what you want, we all get a little bit closer to that change :")

[wicked-hg]

Empire || o.w.

This is a part of @iliveiloveiwrite​ song fic challenge.

Oliver Wood x reader

Song prompt: Empire by Elle Henderson

Summary: Oliver has an interview with a quidditch reporter who wants to know more about the “quidditch empire” he has built. Oliver reflects on the life he has built with Y/N.

WC: 3.9k

A/N: I am so excited to finally post this! I’ve been working on it for a while and it went longer than I thought it would, but that’s okay. I hope you all enjoy it. Please please please check out the song! I tried to keep it in mind writing this, but overall it is just a fantastic song and one of my favorites. I found the below image when looking for an Oliver Wood gif, and this was so cute!!!! Plus it goes with the story. Italics are the interview.

“Mr. Wood, thank you for sitting down with us,” the reporter greeted. “I know many people are dying to know more about you and your growing quidditch empire.”

“Empire?” Oliver chuckled. “I wouldn’t call what I ‘ave an empire.”

“What would you call it then? You are a renowned quidditch player and now a coach for Puddlemere United. Your wife was a former strategist for the Pride of Portree and is the granddaughter of Kennilworthy Wisp and Devlin Whitehorn. You also have seven children. If that isn’t a quidditch empire, then what is it.”

“Me family,” Oliver answered. “Aye, me wife comes from two great lineages and aye quidditch did bring us together, but I love her for so much more than that. Quidditch was only an excuse to talk to her. It isn’t our relationship.”

-----------------------------

You had friends at Hogwarts. There were people who enjoyed your company. They were always there to talk quidditch to you, but that was about it. Once you tried switching the subject they suddenly had to go work on homework that had already been turned in. You knew though captains of quidditch teams didn’t lie that they wanted to be your friend. They were straightforward that they wanted your analysis of their team, and the other teams, and what strategies they should use to be successful. Each one came on the same day at the same time like clockwork. Today was Wednesday. That meant Oliver Wood would find her around 6:55. Oliver was the one captain who would seek you out no matter where you were in the castle. You had to always be in the same place for the others. 

The clock chimed 7:00 when Oliver found you today. “You’re five minutes later than normal, Wood,” you commented. 

Oliver shrugged as he sat next to you. “I knew you’d be here, but I wasn’t sure how loud it would be,” Today’s spot was the clock tower. “So I wanted to wait until after the clock rang.”

You sat in silence. Usually you jumped quickly into the quidditch talk, but Oliver sat silently. “You alright, Wood? You’re quiet today. You play Hufflepuff next week if I recall. I wouldn’t really worry about them. They’ve had a devastating losing streak so far. Their beaters aren’t doing well. They’ve been on injury rotation. Fleet also doesn’t have your skills.”

Oliver smiled. “Me skills? You notice I’m quite skilled, Y/N?”

You tried to keep yourself from blushing. Something was different about how he said this. “Of course I do, Wood. I’m Hogwarts residential quidditch analyst.”

“Oliver,” he said. You glanced at him, confused. “Call me Oliver. Not Wood.”

You nodded. “Okay then...Oliver.” Silence washed back over the two of you. “Do you have any other questions? Or do you want info about the new Nimbus? The rest have wanted that.”

Oliver shook his head. “Why don’t you play? Every house goes to you for advice, yet you don’t even play for your own. Why is that?”

No one had ever asked you that. In fact, no one had ever asked any questions about you yourself. “I used to when I was younger with my siblings. I have six older ones.”

“Me too,” Oliver said. “Poppy, Daisy, Juniper, Ivy, Violet, and Flora. They thought I was gon’ be a girl. When it turned out I was a boy, I was named Oliver instead of Olive. That way all they had to do was add an ‘r’ to everything. Sorry for interrupting you. The Weasleys are the only other ones I know with a family of seven siblings.”

You smiled. “It’s alright. Sounds like your family went for a theme.” Oliver nodded. “I think that’s cool. My parents didn’t. I’m the youngest. I have four brothers—Dorian, Finnigan, Simon, and Leon—and two sisters—Evangeline and Benjamina.”

“So you played quidditch with them. Why not anymore?”

“I got hit in the head with a bludger,” you told him. I know that happens a lot to players, but I was about five. Gramps and PopPop were fighting again. They don’t get along at all, and my parents were out celebrating their anniversary. I don’t know why they had those two watching us instead of just picking one. Granny and Nan were trying to calm them down. We were playing quidditch on PopPop’s prototype of the Nimbus 1650.”

“Nimbus 1650? I’ve never heard of that one.”

“That’s because it was never released to the public. It had too many flaws. Anyway, I played seeker. It’s how I learned to analyze patterns besides listening to Gramps. The bludger hit me upside the head and as I fell it hit me again in the jaw. Honestly though, it felt like two hits to the head because my head was the size of a bludger back then. I couldn’t get on a broom after that. I tried. I tried so many times. I just was never able to fly. The brooms wouldn’t listen. Besides, the healer says one more bludger to the head will kill me.”

“We can’t have that then. I’ll get ya on a broom, but I’m not letting ya anywhere near a bludger.” You grinned at his comment. “You belong in the air though. Every time I find you, you're usually high up. The wind will be blowing through your hair soon enough. I promise.”

“You can’t make promises like that, Oliver.”

Oliver shushed you. “Tomorrow. We start tomorrow at this time on the pitch. You’re not meant to be caged, Y/N. Let me help you fly free.”

“What makes you think that you will be the one to do so?” You asked him, trying not to gain any hope from Oliver’s promise. Your family had done everything they could. How could Oliver be successful?

He smiled and grabbed your hand. “I won’t let you fall. I’ll catch you. Do you trust me?”

There was a fire in his eyes now. He had hope he could do this, and you did too. “Absolutely.”

—————

“And what about having seven children? A quidditch team is made up of seven players. One could assume you are breeding your own quidditch team.”

“Well, one can assume all they want. The truth is, life just happened this way. Y/N and I both came from large families; both of us are the youngest of seven. We were fine having that many kids. Just know though there aren’t any more Wood children coming,” Oliver grinned. “And don’t believe that rumor that all of our kids are named after types of wood unknowingly or fun. It was the result of losing a series of bets.”

“What?”

“What?”

The reporter paused in thought. “Oh my Merlin. Your children are all named after types of wood. You did that on purpose? Because of bets?”

Oliver blinked. “No…”

“But you just said—” Oliver stared at the reporter, daring him to continue. “So when did people pick up on it?”

—————

He was so small. Granted, Rowan and Willow had been too. Perhaps he was bigger than them though. He was definitely louder. “He’s got quite the lungs to him,” you murmured to Oliver as you handed him your new son. “Rowan and Willow were quiet and pensive. He’s loud and ready to fight. Has been since the womb. Hopefully the bruises will go away now.”

This third babe had been a handful—constantly moving and kicking the bruises actually began to appear on your abdomen. “Reckon he’ll be a beater if he plays some day,” You chuckled in agreement with your husband. “Hello there, Al. Glad you’re finally here. Your brother and sister are so excited to meet you.”

“Al,” you sighed lovingly, “I like it. Al Wood. Is it short for anything?”

“Alder.”

“Alder. That’s nice,” Silence washed over the room until your eyes flew open. “Alder? Did you just say Alder? As in the tree? Oliver, is our son named Alder Wood?”

“Yes…”

“Rowan and Willow are going to ma—” Realization hit you. “Rowan and Willow. Rowan Wood. Willow Wood. Oliver Wood, are our children named after types of trees? Have you named our children after types of trees when I am in a state of fatigue after birthing them?”

“Yes and no,” he replied. He carefully held the newborn close to his chest. “All of these names I suggested to you when we discussed it, and you liked them. I just suggested them in a different light. Rowan is a good Scottish name, and Willow is an old English name and a well respected magical tree. Alder...I don’t think I ever did mention Alder to you. I was hoping to get away with that one.”

You reached for your son. Looking down at him, you couldn’t imagine him being named anything else. “I can’t imagine him being anything else now. If we have more children, we will discuss this first. I just didn’t realize you so desperately wanted a theme. I thought you hated the name theming after your parents have done it to you and your sisters.”

“I do!” Oliver argued. 

“Then why name our children after types of wood and trees?”

Oliver sighed. He knew there was no lying to you anymore. “I lost a bet back in Hogwarts to Weasley.”

You sighed. “I’m gonna yell at George when I get out of here. I can’t imagine our children being named anything different now, but still. I don’t care if it was his or Fred’s fault.”

“Actually it was Percy.”

—————

“You were married right before hell broke loose in the Second Great Wizarding War, and if I recall you even participated in it.”

“Aye. I did. Many witches and wizards in the league did once it got shut down in ‘97.”“Did this affect you and your wife?”

“Of course it did. It affected everyone. Plus we were still young and so was Rowan.”

“Rowan?”

“Me eldest boy. How did you not know that? I would’ve thought you’d know the names of me kids the way you’ve been going on.”

The reporter shrugged as he jotted this all down in his notebook. 

——————

Oliver had done what he could to help the light in the war, but his priority was his family. He had a wife and a son now. His wife was also expecting their second child. He laid down next to his wife. “Rowan’s fast asleep,” he whispered. “He went down quickly tonight.”

You smiled as you snuggled into him. “She’s being quiet tonight too.”

He smiled and glanced down at your protruding belly. “How do you know it’s a she?”

“I just do,” You were quiet for a moment before asking, “Oliver, do you ever regret how we did things?”

Everything was on track for you and Oliver when you graduated. You had both taken big jobs in the world of quidditch. You were young and everyone knew your names. Then in the late spring of 1995 you found out a baby was on the way. Rowan was born that December. A year and a half later you two finally got married in the early summer of 1997. Now in May of 1998 you were almost 8 months pregnant with the second baby Wood.

“I will never ever regret us or our kids,” he told you. “This is I guess just how it was meant to be. Do I wish that the world was safer for them? Absolutely. I wish we would’ve had more time to fight to give them a better world. I will do anything to make sure they don’t live under these conditions. I hope every day that Rowan doesn’t remember living in a time of such fear and chaos.”

“I am terrified, Olli,” you admitted.

“Me too,” he agreed, “But I will always be here to protect you. No one will destroy what we have created.” 

Hours later he was summoned to Hogwarts for one last battle. You waited for him to return. When Rowan woke, you acted as if everything was normal. “Daddy just had to go take care of some business,” you told Rowan when he asked about Oliver. An owl from St Mungo’s arrived close to bedtime. You flooed your mother to stay with your son as you rush to the hospital. Oliver, with his confunded eye, grinned at you. He had a gash on his forehead and was covered in dirt, yet he smiled because they had won.

——————

“So did helping in the war aid your career at all?”

“That’s a stupid question.”

“I just didn’t know if it helped your skills.”

“My skills are and were fine both prior and after the war.”

—————

“Sweetheart, I think you need to get your sight checked out,” You told Oliver one morning before he headed off to practice. “You’re missing more shots on your right, even though you’re right handed. People are starting to pick up on that.”

“I still catch the quaffle,” Oliver muttered. “That’s what matters.”

“I didn’t say you didn’t. I’m just saying your reaction time is slower and more have been slipping through. You know, as an analyst for an opposing team I shouldn’t even be telling you this.”

Oliver sighed. “That’s the eye.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh. I forgot it was the right one. I thought you got it healed?”

During the Battle of Hogwarts, Oliver had taken a confundus charm to the eye. For a while his eye was completely confounded and unable to focus. Eventually the healers were able to resituate it back to normal; however, Oliver’s vision had not quite yet returned back to normal.

“It can still get a bit blurry and spinny.”

“You need to talk to the coaches, Oliver. That can be a danger for you,” you said. You wrapped your arms around him. “I don’t want you to get hurt. I know you will overcome this and learn to play with it, but I need you safe. You have a family to come home to.”

Oliver nodded and hugged you. “I promise, leannan. I promise.”

—————

“Was there ever tension or conflict when you played the Pride?”

Oliver shrugged. “Y/N and I had a deal. We would note interfere between Puddlemere and the Pride of Portree. Teams have multiple strategists, and while, aye, she was their main one there were others to take care of handling strategies against Puddlemere. As for me, in my entire career, I never played a game against them—even after she retired and took over the broom business. The main keeper during my early years and reserve in my later years always played.”

“Seriously? Not even after she retired? You could’ve. It would’ve just furthered your career.”

“Perhaps, but I also knew that if I did it would make me wife choose between her husband and the team she grew to love. I couldn’t do that to her. Plus it kept me in shape.”

————

You saw Oliver walk down the stairs carrying your newborn girls and Al clinging to his back. “I thought you had a game today,” you asked as he set Al down and tried to put Holly and Hazel into the highchairs. Rowan and Willow followed behind them.

“”Play quidditch, daddy?” Willow asked. “We go watch a game?”

“Puddlemere plays Portree today. I never play against them.” Oliver sat down and started to feed the twins breakfast.

“But, Oliver,” you said confused, “That was when I worked for them. I don’t work for them anymore. You can play if you want to.”

He shook his head. “Today is for us.”

“Us? Like you and mum or the whole family?” Rowan asked.“

The whole family,” Oliver answered. “I’ve gone this long not playing Portree. No reason to start now. Besides, the team means so much to you, Y/N. I can’t put you between them and me. It’ll be a good day for us all to hang out too. Be a proper family.”

You smiled as you set the rest of breakfast in front of your children and helped Al get his food while WIllow and Rowan snatched theirs up. “That actually sounds amazing. Thank you, Oliver. Anything in mind for us to do today?”

“Perhaps the beach? The sun is out for once.”

“You just want to even out your tan line,” Rowan chuckled. Oliver glared at his son, knowing he was absolutely correct.

————

“You could’ve had another few years to your career. Why did you retire? Your retirement came before your predecessor’s exit.”

Oliver thought for a moment, wondering if he should tell the whole truth. “I was a father to six. I had just found out Reed was going to be born—“

“Is Reed your sixth kid?”

“No he’s the seventh and final.”

“Can you tell me who all your kids are. I’m getting them confused.”

Oliver huffed. “In order there is: Rowan, Willow, Alder, we call him Al, the twins, Holly and Hazel, followed by Ash, and ending with Reed.”

“One more time.”

Oliver sighed. He couldn’t take much more of this. “Rowan, Willow, Alder, Holly, Hazel, Ash, and Reed.”

The reporter finished writing those down. “Got it.”

“As I was saying, I had just found out my youngest child was on the way and I had also found out some other news.”

————

“Pregnant?”

You nodded. “I know we hadn’t planned this. It’s kid number seven,” You sat down next to him. “Oh Merlin, it’ll be our seventh child. We’re going to have a full team, Oliver. Al starts Hogwarts next year. Willow is starting her second year this year. Rowan takes his OWLS this year! The twins just started nursery school. Ash is finally no longer scared of the loo.”

“I’m going to retire,” Oliver said suddenly.

“What?” you gasped. “Oliver, darling, you don’t need to do that. Dorian and I run PopPop’s business just fine. You don’t need to give up your career. We support you. I support you.”

Oliver kissed your cheek and rested his hand against your stomach. “I’m almost 40, Y/N. I’ve been missing goals at practice for a while. Coach sent me to a healer during practice. There’s no more quidditch for me. Too many bludgers to the head. We make quite the pair. They found that part of my brain is swollen. I have to have treatment for a few more weeks and I’ll be good as new.”

You threw your arms around him and held him close. “Oh Oliver. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Didn’t want you to worry. I didn’t want you to act differently in front of the kids. I found out all the details today though. I’m telling Coach tomorrow.”

“I can’t believe you have to do this, Oliver.”

He smiled and kissed your forehead. “I’m getting old anyway. This was going to happen eventually. I missed parts of my kids' lives because of quidditch. No more of that.”

“They’ll be heartbroken, you know.”

Oliver nodded. “What about you?”

“I just want you safe and happy. I will always support your choice. I can’t lose you, Oliver. You’re silly to think I’d ever let you near a bludger again now.”

Oliver chuckled remembering his promise to you all those years ago. “Poor Al. No more bludgers for the Woods. We’re gonna need to find a place to send him.”

“I ran into an old classmate of ours. She’s married to Marcus Fli—”

“I’m not sending me son to play with a bludger at Marcus Flint’s place! I’d rather take him to Weasley!”

————

Oliver watched the reporter go with a smile on his face. That was the last one. He couldn’t handle continuously doing those. His agent was right; he just needed to write a damn book. 

“Is the reporter done?”

Oliver turned and his smile became a grin as he kissed you. “Aye. Thank Merlin too. That was an imbecile. I’m gonna have to write that book so I don’t have to deal with any more of them.”

You grinned and hugged him. “I told you so. Come on now, sweetheart. They’re all waiting for you.”

“Can you believe Al is off to Hogwarts tomorrow?”

You shook your head as you snuggled into him. “That leaves us with four though. We’re not quite at an empty nest, Oliver.”

“I know. It’s just,” Oliver paused. “As I answered questions I just thought back to different moments in our life. Did you ever think we’d get here? That we’d build this...this...this empire of ours?”

You smiled. “I always hoped. I couldn’t imagine living my life with anyone else. Though our life is full of quidditch, in so, so many ways, you still made sure it was about so much more than that. Now come Oliver. Our little empire is ready to eat dinner.”

————---------

“Are we almost there?” You asked Oliver. “I feel like we’ve been walking forever. Why couldn’t we have just apparated?”

Oliver chuckled as he gripped your hand tighter to make sure he didn’t lose you as you climbed higher on the hill. “That would ruin the magic of it all, leannan.”

“Can you give me any clues, Oliver? Besides the fact it must be a decent spot for a picnic,” You glanced down at the picnic basket in your hand. When Oliver had invited you to his home, you were excited. Never before had you been to his family home in the highlands. You had met his family at his sisters’ homes. “You know the only thing I know about the highlands is that you are from here, and you don’t even live here anymore!”

“We’re almost there anyway,” he answered. “This is a place me dad took me mum when they were like us. When I told them about you, he brought me in case you were my gu bràth. We’re in the midst of Loch Katrine. It can be a popular place for muggle photographers to come take photos but they’re quite intimidated by this mountain, thanks to magic.”

Oliver helped you climb up a few more meters. You saw the giant grin on his face. This must be someplace special. He was just as excited as if they were about to jump right into a game of quidditch. You set the basket down and felt his hand squeeze yours. “Look at it, leannan. It’s beautiful.”

Finally you turned to join him, and he wasn’t wrong The area of Loch Katrine was gorgeous as the leaves had started to change. “This is beautiful, Oliver. It is absolutely gorgeous here.”

His smile grew and he pulled you closer. Your head rested on his chest and listened to the sound of his beating heart. Afterwhile he whispered, “I have found strength in your arms. We have built the foundation for an amazing love, and you will always rule my heart. Nobody can or will ever destroy what we have.”

You burrowed closer into his chest and felt his arms wrap around you more. Oliver had always been a ray of hope, and you knew he would continue to be one for you. You knew, you could feel your relationship growing in many ways at that moment. You hoped to Merlin, as you looked across the Scottish highlands in the arms of the man you loved, that someday you would build an indestructible empire with him. It is what you both deserved.

[batarangsoundsdumb]

hae interrogationes multae respondeant quia demens .

if you read this entire ask post you deserve a gold star and financial recompensation

Um, Obviously because when you’re adopted by a white guy you automatically become white duhhh

this is about this post lmao and yeah youre absolutely right, you have to hand your poc card in when you get adopted by a white guy.

Do you think Cass would listen to Yanni, the YouTube channel epic symphonic rock, or some other stuff? There's some cool mashups but idk if that's up your alley, I kinda feel like I'm pushing it with my weird taste of music by recommending an orchestra cover of metal, but i just love that sort of thing and mashups :P @harvestyourcherries 

i haven’t heard of that? but in my personal (correct) opinion steph listens to classical music, and then both modern and older, and then also stuff like black sabbath, iron maiden, but also hardrock and hardcore. i like the idea of cass just liking the most extreme screaming songs full of noise and then also listen to pachelbel’s 370th sonata yanno? THANK YOU for the rec tho

speaking of ur cass playlist hc...reminds of the time (yesterday) i found 2 playlists randomly on spotify from the same user. one was abt 3 hours of instrumental/classical "dark" & "nostalgic" music. the other almost 11 hours of nothing but hardcore bass/synth/electronic music. just an incredible tightrope act to put on in public. the synth one was also called like "psalms for synth sluts" which is Also incredible

tbh i LOVE synth SO MUCH like for no reason at all but then also cannot handle a poppy electronic beat lmao. but this seems like the kinda thing i’d do but just in one (1) playlist bc i just sort songs by vibe instead of genre? that’s how i end up with britney spears and billy ray cyrus in the same playlist. 

Oh, I want Kate Kane playlist next! It would be amazing if you could do one when you have time and will 🙏

how rude would it be of me to just say no? like sorry kate but idk you and also you seem way too keen on the us military for an institution that homophobically targeted you? (and also commits war crimes) but let’s unpack the fact that the institution that caused the death of your mom and sister and also got you blacklisted for being gay is still one you align with???

'yes i am' 'no you're not' 'yes i am' 'no you're not' 'yes i am' 'no you're not' 'yes i am' 'no you're not' 'yes i am' 'no you're not' 'yes i am' 'no you're not' --- when i tell you i fucking screamed LOL!!!!!!! i can imagine the cameraman not knowing if he should cut to commercial or keep it on these two weirdos fighting on stage (bruce definitely ruffled dick's hair/noogied him right?? 

about this post but yeah lmao. this cameraman just turns to like the audience to get a reaction and it’s just multiple moments of CLEAR shock.

you are the only funny person on this hellsite

how egotistical is it for me to say that i get this ask multiple times a month? bc it literally happens so often it’s hilarious to me.

Wish there was more john/Bruce content 😔😔😔 was so hungry I actually looked at canon media 😔😔😔 (Justice League Dark babeeeyyyyyy)

check out batman: damned for some mediocre content but at least it’s john/bruce (also very interesting story and stuff, just got very >:( over this weird part where harley quinn tried to r*pe bruce or something? it’s not for everyone)

dick grayson but he's nicki minaj

his anaconda don’t want none,,, unless...... 

Dick Grayson was never a cop, he played Marshall on Paw Patrol

you are SO right. also paw patrol is a fucking good show idc. that shit could’ve been the new steven universe on this hellsite.

https://www.instagram.com/p/CS1lI0bLI7-/?utm_medium=copy_link

...

why do people keep reposting my CONTENT. if you are not funny yourself don’t just grab shit off of tumblr and post it on insta,,, get a life. sidenote: should i start an insta and get all these ppl to take my content down that would be funny as hell.

Might I suggest for a Gotham City Meme: something about the true crime fandom thirsting for the rogues gallery

ok can i just say something slightly controversial?? no? i don’t find true crime ppl who are into criminals funny, that shits disturbing irl im not gonna bring that into my very chill universe.

i may have never seen a 'jason cleaning guns in sink' fic but i do know he WOULD

THANK YOU

bestie im sorry to say this to you but while you can, and people do wash their guns in the sink, that is a lot of lead in a very vital part of the kitchen.

people tend to do it in the bathtub.

WHY???? like damn why do you even have guns

i dont think i read many gun sink fics exactly but i have read lots of fics where jason cleanes his guns in the living room. usualy dissembles them and cleans them with a rag i think

lmao fair enough, like i think that’s a large part of what i remember as well.

if you say you've seen/read gun sink fics I believe you. I think those of us who didn't see them are lucky or maybe didn't search for fics by tags or something idk

i mean ive never sought them out but i HAVE seen them,, like definitely i know almost for certain.

saw your tags and I'm interested in Steph/Kara now. They would be the most chaotic couple <3

literally thoooo, i have a wip where they get together in a zombie apocalypse and like UGGGHhhh i am so in love with them.

I am the Breece anon. Thanks for the recommendation; am reading now. I’ve always been a hardcore Superman fan because I love my pure himbo farm boy. My logic is, if one Bruce is a Broose, then multiple Broose are a herd of Breece. And this is a hill upon which I will perish.

fair enough,,,, like moose, meese, goose, geese, bruce, breece. i get your logic and i stand by it as well. (glad you enjoyed the comic recs!!!!)

It's a beautiful day in Gotham, and you are a group of horrible Breece

OH my god dude lmao

there only being 42 fics on ao3 for tim and bernard is honestly so sad i need more

it’s like twice that now!!! we did it lads. (tho very sad that my fic isnt number one but like number 4 :((((  )

i'm too late you already did the poll lol but may i suggest bethy (bernard + timothy)

shit dude that wouldve been so fucking funnyyyyy. think ppl have just stuck to timber tho, tim/bernard kinda died down recently and i think it’s too bad, they’re a great couple and i love them.

Wait, hear me out

Bernothy @redlightofdawn

great recommendation (lmao this ask is from like a month ago) but very sorry to announce that NARDTH is the superior shipname

Wait, we know that bernard likes milfs (Tim's step-mom) but what about dilfs? gilfs?

Wait no, I regret sending that ask

these were two seperate asks and they’re HILARIOUS. in my personal opinion tho,,, milfs, gilfs, dilfs are just about vibes and bernard is just attracted to sexy ppl who may sometimes be milfs, dilfs, or EVEN gilfs.

crime in bludhaven would drop to half if nightwing had a boob window. in this essay i will-

WHERE’S THE ESSAY ANON, WHERE’S THE FUCKING ESSAY

Wait if Barbra and Tim r at opposite ends at all times what happened to Barbra once everyone’s Tim’s ever love before started dying lol

she won a lottery ticket and spent 2 weeks on a resort in the bahamas before returning home and finding out that the joker was arrested for tax evasion and then spent a month staying at her big tiddie goth girlfriend’s house before conner came back to life and she broke her pinkie playing table hockey.

Why is the opposite end thing so funny and compelling to me. Tim comes back from his depression quest for Bruce and Babs is now a literal god

lmao when tim loses his spleen barbara reaches nirvana.

Are you still taking music recs because I have three songs that remind me of Jason that I think you'd like

send to me or lose a toe

🌸 ⭐ put this star into the inbox of your favorite blogs. it’s time to spread positivity! ⭐🌸😋

thanks, i wont tho on account of i wont.

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMduBy3Sr/

⬆️

This is the whole of Blüdhaven and everyone anywhere.

Nightwings ass alone saves more people in a calendar year and does more for so society than most heroes do their whole career.Also u are one of the funniest tumblr pages out there. The vibes are unmatched and the memes and tags ✨send me✨.Thank u and goodnight @julia-flow 

fanksss also lmao.

That's going to be a little bit difficult to explain, but

There's some music that you listen to and you think, "oh my gosh, I can perfectly imagine Dick Grayson singing this song, with the same voice as the singer because that voice matches with Dick Grayson"?

oh yeah totally lmao. i have a lot of songs that i think are just entirely dick grayson yanno? kind of all of my playlists have that vibe, but i really find bleachers to fit with dick? idk.

"Lois lane/Superman" fics this, "Lois lane/Clark Kent" fics that, (/lh) let's get into the real good stuff. Some people ship Lois, Clark, and Superman as a throuple. Most popular fic tag for sure

yes totally, i think they’d be absolutely killer on ao3 and clark gets so fucking embarassed about it.

I miss your post, hope you’re doing okay!!

haha this was like 2 months ago, but i was doing fine then too! just didn’t have a lot of inspiration in terms of content.

Doot doot!

noot noot

I’m confused. What did DC do now? Like with nightwing? And another sibling? Please spoil everything for me

lmao they gave him a secret sister plotline where they had his dad cheat on his mom with tony zucco’s wife, bc dick’s life wasn’t traumatic enough yet.

sorry but it's so funny that batman is called "the dark knight" when the gotham city baseball team is called the gotham knights. it'd be like if a vigilante was running around new york called like "the scary yankee"

lmaooo no. but like yankee comes from dutch names or something so wouldnt it be HILARIOUS if gotham knights came from like german names and bruce would be running around called the dark KLAUS UND NIEK @graysonnightwing 

(not a batcest shipper) it’s so funny to me that the responses are “i’m a batcest shipper because i can differentiate fiction from reality and and it doesn’t bother me personally, but i understand why you oils think it’s weird” to “i wish all batcest shippers a very fucking die”

yeah lmaoo. i personally basically flipped my entire stance around to ‘i dont care please leave me and everybody else alone’ bc i think there’s really no point in starting a moral dillema over some fucking fandom bullshit. Please just,,, go home,,, log off, find a nice forest to have a little walk in and remember that somewhere in history, somebody probably died in the place you’re standing. and you will also die someday, and somebody will have to look at your internet usage and see you fighting multiple people anonymously while being named ‘nightwingsbuttchin200186′ like... calm down, we’re all gonna die this is not the thing to worry about.

so since like "wards" don't really exist in modern society almost all the batkids are foster kids, right? i used to work in the system and imagine: monthly visits from social workers and guardian ad litems, bruce having to get permission to take the boys anywhere out of state, calling their social worker at like 8 a.m. like "yeah dick broke his arm again... a gymnastics accident this time...." their poor social worker. bruce send her a huge bouquet and box of chocolates every month to stay on her good side

i imagine the social worker just getting into the case like ‘yeah let’s get this kid a good guardian’ and then ending up having to work with 22 y/o bruce wayne and his 50 y/o dad. and so this social worker is like ‘okay we can work with this, this is the best home i can find’ and then like it ends up landing on its feet and then the kid gets adopted and then they get a call a year later like ‘uhm so hi, this kid tried to steal my tyres can i adopt him?’ and like 3 years later. ‘okay so basically, my neighbours’ kid imprinted on me and now they’re dead, can i keep him?’ two years later it’s like ‘okay so this assassin child-’

ever since I saw that one post of yours, the meme that's something like "I know that abba's backup dancer got me" with a picture of discowing, I've been haunted. Every once in a while I'll be minding my own business then the image of abba's backup dancer dick grayson aka nightwing aka discowing will flash in my mind and I'll be frozen in place. Today at work I was in the middle of folding clothes and suddenly once again discowing entered my mind and I suddenly lost the ability to see anything except He. Thank you.

wow. the IMPACT.

Braver than any US marine man props to you🤝

this shit is about the time i wrote an article on batcest, like man,,, the fact that i didn’t get cancelled is MIRACULOUS. also like,,, uh if anybody on here did gossip on me,, send screenshots i’d love to see it.

Hello, just wanted to say your article was great. Thank you for taking the time to provide an unbaised answer. It should provide people with nuances they couldn't possibly conjure on their own.

May I ask where your username originates from?

yes you may (also thanks!!!) i thought it up when i was trying to find an original username bc i didnt want to be called like ‘timdrakes something something’ or ‘jason todd something smoething’ or ‘dick grayson something something’ yanno? so i thought batarangs, they sound so dumb and that’s my username story... now it’s my whole entire brand lmao.

yno that bit in kick ass where red mist asks kick ass if he wants a hit of his blunt, was that the inspo for stoner tim

no? it’s bc i think stoners are hilarious and drugs are great. (dont do drugs tho) 

How would u feel if someone actually wore one of those bruce or ollie pride shirts u edited

fenomenal next question.

Dick as lil huddy and Jason as James gave me radiation poisoning and now I’m screaming crying throwing up so thx for that

(Rico suave as Tim is perfect tho literally no changes needed)

i was so funny for that shit wasn’t i??? lmao i loved those weird ass fancasts

You're doing the Lord's work by providing us with all these Gotham/Metropolis citizens memes, thank you for being so relentlessly funny @nellethiel-aranel

you’re welcome!! i really enjoy making memes, but getting validation for my content and my memes is REALLY nice.

Bruce is such a slut in your memes and honestly i love that for him @rhodey-rhudert-rhodes-main 

he’s that much of a slut irl too dw.

Bruce and Alfred have an emergency pride flag for the batkids. Oliver Queen printed an emergency "I love my gay son" t-shirt and as soon as Roy told him he was dating Jason, Oliver started wearing that shirt everyday and Roy always cringes when he sees it. Oliver also has an emergency "I love my lesbian daughter" shirt just in case for Cissie.

lmao YES i had a post like this bc like all of their kids/family members are so gayy

stop bringing back batfam fancasts it is not real it is not real it is not- 😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀

oh yes it is my darling.

did discowing burn down the notredam because he hates the bees? @allulily

no he did it bc fuck the french.

im gonna beg for 1 thing and 1 thing only. please please please put physical by olivia newton john on dick's playlist

okay then beg. bc i wont. physical reminds me too much of glee and that hurts me mentally.

your playlist is sorely missing some Madonna. Specifically Into the Groove, Like a Prayer, and Vogue

i’m scared of madonna that’s why she’s not on there. she haunts me in my dreams.

suggestion: son of batman by aaron dews for dick’s playlist🤩

sorry, i listened to it and the vibe didn’t agree with me.

Hear me out, metropolis citizens sending rare pair fics of Clark Kent x Superman fics to Lois to edit

yes, absolutely hilarious. even more funny if they send like physical copies, no address attached and lois sends it back marked with red ink, SOMEHOW

Imagine all the smut Clark must of read editing the fics

clark reads smut confirmeeed

NOT LOIS READING SUPERBAT PORN AND EDITING IT A 2AM 

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

hc that alfred is a meta that boosts healing factor of the people around him. if the bats are injured as much as they seem to be they would be doing bat stuff MAYBE half the year. no one including alfred knows about this. whenever the kids move out they inexplicably dont recover from injuries as fast and feel better whenever they visit the manor they just chalk it up to homesickness. bruce just thinks he heals really fast. alfred thinks everyone doesnt take care of themselves properly @finchcollector

that’s actually such a great idea, but i think that alfred would find out and learn how to concentrate it better so he can help more people, bc he’s great and i love him.

One of your dickfast posts reminded me of that tweet that goes: 'so you've had sex how many times? Yeah technically that's not a bromance' lol that's dickwally or dickroy

literally tho. like that’s all of dick’s friendships. once it gets past a certain time dick is like ‘wow i wonder what it would be like to make out with wally, wally come make out with me’ and wally’s like ‘we’ve done this like 40 times, dick, you know what it’s like’ and dick is like ‘sorry are you complaining?’ and they just make out.

superfam and batfam associations??

-batman and superman

-dick/barabara and supergirl?

-conner and tim

-jon and damian

pls enlighten me I am confused

nope,,, uhm batman and superman, but dick and superman as well, and then conner and tim, jon and damian and steph + babs with supergirl

I came across a fic in which Wonder Woman calls Batman "Stella" (like Stellaluna, the children's book) and I can imagine the batkids hop on the trend and maybe copies of the book appear at random places (aka, everywhere Bruce frequents)

sorry can’t reciprocate that was the name of my high school chemistry teacher and it gives me nightmares to think about.

good human what are your pronouns?

wouldn’t you like to know?

I need me some gothamites preferring harley over joker memes

everyone prefers harley over joker youre just very fucked up if you dont

don't understand why people try to add like veteran policy to the batfamily

dick pulling out his veteran batfam member card so he can eat first: step aside, peasants

Do you know the song Simmer by Haley Williams? It (the first verse anyways) reminds me of Jason? It's about rage.

damn yeah i LOVE HAYLEY!!!! youre right thoo

Okay so I like listen to your stoner Tim Drake playlist 24/7 but would he listen to skegss? Also I keep adding songs mentally it’s killing me 😩✋🏼 Anyways,, I literally love and worship your playlist 😃🤞🏼 And uh yeah have a good day ✨

stoner tim drake playlist is lyfeeee. also dont know who skeggs is? i’m stupid? have a good day!!

All the Robins (and Batgirl) decide to trade costumes for one night just to fuck with Batman and all the villains in Gotham. @subspacecadet 

batman knows it’s them youknow but like,,, what does he call them? he’s like ‘red hood?’ and 3 people answer and he’s not about to compromise some identities so he’s just Pissed.

I aspire to treat cops the way my dad treats them. This man is a 45 year old Asian immigrant to the US and the treats them like his pets. He talks about them like unruly children. Sometimes he pays off local cops to shut up and stop acting racist. And usually it works. I don’t know why but I can see Oliver Queen doing this

vibes... and also yes? oliver queen handing a local cop a donut to shut the fuck up lmao. but yanno i commit enough crimes to not really want to ever see a cop ever, so they kinda scare the everloving fuck out of me.

seeing as tim hasn't aged in years, that means he was 17 at peak emo tumblr era. im back on my emo tim bullshit and im not letting it go

emo tim had a wattpad account send tweet

People seem to think that batman is so dark and serious when the rainbow batsuit is right there. He wore it with no shame.

dude the 60s were a DIFFERENT TIME

dick grew up in a circus, jason grew up on the streets, and tim was probably raised by the internet

all of them cuss every other word and you cannot tell me otherwise

bitch i KNOW but dc has to change to an 18+ rating if they want to sell comix with swear words in them so we gotta deal with imagining the swear words in ourselves

thoughts on teen titans and young justice

haven’t seen teen titans on account of havent seen it and young justice was LITERALLY my favourite thing ever, tho i do gotta admit it’s not at all similar to the young justice comics unfortunately. i really wouldve liked to see timmy bart kon cassie and cissie animated on tv!!

ew ew ew how to delete batcest shippers I genuinely digust them

log off tumblr?

Okay as poc who was called racist for calling an Italian pastabrain: in the batfam are Italians bit Damian just yells various insults about the others being Italian. Just him yelling “What are you doing you moronic spaghettihead!” At steph etc

huh? i meant real italians. homeboy is telling steph he hopes she chokes on her fucking garlic.

I think it's dumb as hell to pull the batman is the best fighter in the batfam argument because like it's just irresponsible of Bruce to let his kids fight when they couldn't possibly be on his league or something

fair enough, but also like who cares they could all kill you just sit down and take a beating.

lady shiva, thalia al ghul and Selina Kyle are all milfs @notanothertimburtonenthusiastugh 

unfortunately, i have to admit,,, you’re right

why tf didn't someone give joker a death sentence already? like he's a mass murderer...give him the electric chair treatment wtf

idk i think plenty of people would have tried to murder him already (boring answer is: he is a popular character so they can’t kill him off bc he brings in lots of money)

There’s no such thing as “ copaganda”.

all american media is propaganda. happy to clear this up for you

is it bad that I find lady shiva owa owa

no. find her as owa owa as you want.

aight I'm guessing the order of your favs in batfam:

1. tim

2. Steph

3. dick

4. Duke

5. the rest

you’re wrong but it’s cute that you tried, i generally don’t have favourites, but i have a special place in my heart for steph, tim, dick and cass. bc they were like my introduction to batfam. but damian, jason, duke, bruce, babs and alfred are NOT FORGOTTEN OR UNLOVED

oh my god i was literally just readily willing to believe that italians werent white ty for clarifying it was a joke im so dumb sdkvjskdfs

i mean some italians aren’t white? italian is a nationality as well as an ethnicity, so like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

since I saw so many people doing headcanons about the nationalities of batboys, I see Dick as an Italian.

dont know if youre serious or not, but sure.

super random but

jason 🤝 damian

old english

lmao fair enough.

tim absolutely has 1 gay uncle and his parents shit talk said uncle all the time so after bruce adopts him he specifically reaches out to this uncle to be like "heyyyy just so you know you majorly influenced my life yes i know i havent seen you since i was 5 and at the family reunion yes i know you dont remember my name idc thank you im gay too" and then they never talk again.

yuppp lmao that’s definitely something that could happen. i can also consider tim having no family members, like none. until he does like a dna test and he realises he has like an aunt living barely 2 miles away from him who’s like some illegitimate child of his grandpa.

I dare you one of them sends clark superman/clark fic and clark corrects the shit out of it and then goes like ps his dick is not that big, just telling as someone who has seen it. internet either explodes or goes who tf did he not fuck at this point.

i think everybody would call clark a buzzkill and try to cancel him over that.

so you're telling me Tim Drake wouldn't buy Starbucks?

no. dunkin donuts all the way

One of my favorite things is imagining people finding out jason came back from the dead and being like "oh no does he have magic powers now?!?!?" and he just pulls out a gun and tries to shoot joker

now he doesn’t even have the gun :) lmao

my favorite batfamily fanfictions are the ones where they use their shitty codenames, unironically, in any context

bruce gets codename ‘ugh’ everytime. he hates it.

crazy that tim being a 17 y/o ceo and a stoner who does brand deals are all actual canon things written in detective comics comics and not made up for shits and giggles by you, tumblr user batarangsoundsdumb @rowdeyclown

SO CRAZY HUH?

batman au where everything is the same but his utility belt is bright pink

absolutely, but i raise you, his boots light up like sketchers when he kicks people.

unbeknownst to the superhero fandom writers in the dcuniverse, clark and BRUCE are one of the most prolific fanfic writers in the superhero rpf tag on ao3. clark writes the best lois x superman angst, full of unhappy endings and scenes that are a so detailed you'd think you were in the middle of a superhero beatdown. bruce made an ao3 account to fuel "the do the butts match" thing, and makes batman/bruce fics from time to time. he wrote a superbat fic as a joke but ended up making it REAL porny. @concrastinator

dude they’re WAY too busy for that. Oliver Queen and Hal Jordan on the other hand are the most prolific fanfic writers in the superhero rpf tag writing what is Mostly porn.

When the dining table topic gets to politics, Steph says "eat the rich" as the solution

bruce just silently takes away her fork and knife while she’s talking.

[fallingforyou123]

You Will Never Be A God-Une

Warnings: Slight language, implied smut, alight angst

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: Here is the official part one! Hope you'll like it, reblogs and feedback are always appreciated!

Series Masterpost

The sheets hung loosely around her frame, the only thing keeping her from being exposed to the cold air. The stranger laid beside her in a dazed out state, chest rising ever so slowly. A small cloud of smoke engulfed the both of them, a bad habit Stevi had picked up from an ex of hers.

“Those will kill you one day.”

“No more than sleeping with strangers will.”

“Touche.”

Stevi moved to get dressed, keeping quiet to avoid another conversation. Leaving was always bad, but leaving when there was still so much to be said was the worst. She couldn’t quite place it, but there was a feeling, something small sitting in her gut. It worried her, she’d never felt like this with a stranger. So safe and comfortable.

“Stay. Just till the morning, I’ll have my driver take you home.” Came the voice from the other side of the bed.

“No, definitely no. I have rules, no names, no staying. I can’t”

“What a lonely life you must live, to disconnect so much from those around you.”

Stevi looked at him, truly looked at him. He looked so much different than the man she met a couple hours ago. His perfectly gelled hair was nothing more than a brown mess atop his head, his eyes were clouded with a sleepy haze, and his suit had been replaced by a very thin sheet. He looked like someone she could see herself falling for back in university, she had to remind herself that this was a man with a lot of money, someone she’d probably dig up dirt on for an article.

She shook her head, she needed to leave.

After she finished dressing, she grabbed her bag from the front room and slipped out the door. Checking her phone she saw a couple missed calls from Brooke and an enthusiastic ‘be safe!’ text from Poppy. She quickly both, ensuring them that she was not dead in a ditch somewhere, before ordering an uber and hoping in the elevator.

***

The rest of the weekend had gone by in a blur. She’d spent all of Saturday nursing her hangover with ice cream and old reruns of Golden Girls in bed. Then Sunday was brunch with the girls at a little cafe where she was forced to share every detail of the events that unfolded Friday night, only leaving out how weird she had felt in the strangers' company. And then all too soon she was getting ready for a week of meetings and interviews.

Walking into the office, Stevi was greeted by her boss informing her that her 11am was now Stevi’s and ‘oh, look, he’s early.’ She mentally groaned, there was not enough caffeine in the world to make this worth it. Don’t get her wrong, Stevi loved her job, but god did she hate her boss. She was flakey, and whenever anything didn’t appeal to her, she’d simply give it to Stevi with barely any notice. There were far too many nights that she had to stay late because she was given a column to write only hours before it was due.

With a heavy sigh, she walks into the conference room, hoping that this won’t last long. “Good morning, my name is Stevi, I’ll be doing the interview today since Diane couldn’t be here.”

“Rule one.”

She whips her head up towards the man, “What?”

It’s in that moment that she realizes who this is, the man from Friday night. And coincidentally, Tom Holland. She should’ve known the other night who he was, his name and face had been plastered on the bulletin board for weeks, one of their most anticipated interviews this year. Tom was not only a pretty face, but the youngest CEO to be running an international company in decades. His father had started Holland and Co. Publishing almost 30 years ago, and only a few months ago he handed it over to Tom.

“I said, rule one darling. You’ve broken it.” She’d forgotten how lovely that voice was, remembering how captivating it was to have him whispering in her ear.

“I heard what you said, Mr. Holland.”

“Call me Tom, you’ve more than earned that privilege.”

“This is my place of work, not some stupid nightclub, I keep things professional here.”

Neither of them take their eyes off the other, a silent war taking place between the two of them.

“Well, if you’re such a professional, stop looking at me like you’re wanting to fuck me.”

A small gasp leaves Stevi. She stands up to leave, gathering her things, and looks at him with venom in her eyes, “Mr. Holland, I’m afraid that this interview is over, if you would please talk to the receptionist she will reschedule you in with someone other than me.”

A small look of shock crosses Tom’s face before he too stands, reaching out to grab Stevi’s arm, “Wait, I'm sorry. Sit down, I’ll be civil.”

Reluctantly, she does. Placing her notebooks in front of her and pulling out the recorder. Before she begins she gives Tom a warning look, “One word, one single word out of line, and this is over.” To which he nods and sits back, hands folded in his lap, looking like a true business man.

***

The rest of the interview goes by smoothly, only a couple of suggestive looks being thrown her way before he bites his tongue. Stevi’s never been more relieved to finish something in her life, the tension between the two becoming almost unbearable as the interview went on. “Okay, I think that’s all we need for the article, a draft will be sent to your assistant to go over before we publish it in next week's business column.”

Stevi stands quickly, ready to put everything behind her and spend the rest of her day hiding in her office. Before she can leave, a hand is wrapped around her arm once again, and body right behind her. “Let me take you to dinner, darling. A reward for being good.”

The voice in her ear sends a shiver down her spine, and for a second she debates it, “Tom, I can’t. I don’t mix business with pleasure, this is already a conflict of interest.”

“More of those damn rules. Live a little, let your guard down for once.” He looks at her with pleading eyes, something that makes him look more like his true age. That feeling sneaks its way back into again, and for a moment, while she stares into his eyes, nothing else exists. Just the two of them and a world of possibilities.

“If I say yes, this stays between us. The people we are here, and the people we are then are not the same. My job may not seem dangerous to you, but it could be very bad for me if someone gets the wrong idea.”

Tom nods, he knows all too well what she means. “Tonight at 7, meet me at The Garden on 22nd, I’ll make the reservation.”

She agrees, lets him put his number in her phone, and gives Tom one last smile before heading down the hall to her office.

She jumps when she sees someone sitting at her desk, “James, what are you doing here?”

“What, can’t check in on my favourite captain?”

“Not without a secret agenda, and last I checked, I have nothing to report to you, I’m off duty.” Stevi walks towards him, pushing his legs off of her desk.

“Ah, sweetheart, you’re never off duty. Not when you’re talking to men like that.” James points out the door, to where Tom can be seen talking to the receptionist.

“That is none of your business, James.”

“I want details, everything you can find out about him, on my desk by Friday, you know what’ll happen if it’s not. Have a good day Stevi.” And with that, James walks out of the room, leaving a chill hanging in the air.

Stevi suddenly can’t breathe, the four walls surrounding her feeling like a cage. She quickly grabs her things and walks to Dianes’ office, telling her there’s a family emergency and she’ll work on the article at home. Within minutes she’s scrambling to get into her car, dialing Poppys’ number, needing someone to calm her down.

She spends the rest of the day on Poppys’ couch trying to recover from her near mental breakdown. This life was never something she wanted, she’d been dragged into it by her ex. After he failed to complete a simple task, he was killed in their apartment, and she was responsible for finishing it out. But it’s never that simple, one task turned into two, and then four, and now she was too far in to be able to leave.

All too soon, it was 6:30 and she was leaving for her date with Tom. She’d left Poppys an hour ago, promising her that there was nothing to worry about, it had just been a bad day. She drove in silence, not wanting to focus on anything but the road. She got to the restaurant right on time, quickly being seated in one of the private rooms. She’d been here once before with her parents when she first moved to the city. They’d taken her out to celebrate and they’d spent the night drinking fancy wine and eating more food than they could’ve ever imagined.

Lost in her memories, she didn’t realise how much time had passed since she’d arrived. Checking her phone she saw that it was now quarter past, and no sign of Tom. She tries texting him, thinking maybe he’d gotten off of work late. By 7:30 she starts to panic, she’s 2 glasses of wine in and still no sign of him. To no avail, she calls him, worry turning into anger when it goes straight to voicemail.

It’s almost 8 when the waiter informs her that Tom has called, he won’t be making it, but to order whatever she likes and he’ll pay for it.

And so she sits there, wine glass in hand, wishing she’d never even met Tom.

[sxvxrxssnape]

minerva mcgonagall’s personal mission to make severus love christmas part 5

aka snolidays/snapemas day 11 and 12 (hot chocolate, baking) // pre-PS/the years between. minerva and severus friendship // content warning: panic attack and mentions of lily potter. i feel like this should be considered a snapetober entry oops. word count: 4287  @blog4snape

The night ended with more hot chocolate as the five stood together and watched a choreography of lights move above the pond, creating elves loading a sack full of gifts onto the outline of a waiting sleigh, watched it become glowing reindeer pulling it off the ground, rising in height and getting smaller and smaller until it disappeared and the light show began again. 

It felt like magic and he refused to believe none was involved. 

He fell asleep fully clothed that night, contentment and milk chocolate running through his veins as he begrudgingly made another mark on the imaginary scorecard. 

Minerva was definitely winning.

Saturday was spent finishing the potions for the infirmary, bottling and stoppering the dozens of phials, and methodically scrubbing the cauldrons clean as he read from a book hovering above the wash basin, the pages turning with a flick of his head. 

He dropped the potions off at the hospital wing, secretly pleased that Poppy was far too busy with a floo call to a student’s parents to bother giving him more than a thankful nod and a wave of her hand. He didn’t mind their conversations, but when three students were laid up sick on starched cots, Severus preferred to be as far away from the infestation as possible. 

He spent the night reading, a cup of tea in hand, the soft glow of candlelight nearby to illuminate the words of one of the books he had picked up from Diagon Alley. 

Sunday morning found him sprawled out on the couch in his living quarters, fully dressed once again, with the candles snuffed and the book astray, the teacup still nestled between a cushion and his thigh. 

He spent the day holed up in his office with a correcting quill, the stack of essays he kept putting off, and no less than four packets of crisps. It was dinnertime by the time he finished reading all the scrolls of parchment, his fingers cramping and eyes bleary. He had the beginning of a headache forming, but the grading was nearly caught up on. 

The remainder were short-answer questions, at least.

He wasn’t sure he could sit through another stack of eighteen inch essays for at least another month.

Perhaps two. 

The crisps had made him nauseous, so rather than attending dinner in the Great Hall, he flooed into the staff lounge and helped himself to his precious french press that had been left behind. As the coffee grounds soaked, he glanced around the room and took in the stockings.

There were some new additions.

There were his and Minerva’s - white, cable-knitted with fur trim, bearing their names embroidered in black thread - but also a bright blue with Filius’ initials, a pastel-pink made from crushed velvet with Pomona’s name spelled out in tiny yellow flowers, a black with silver snowflakes bearing Aurora’s family crest, and a neon orange war crime that could only belong to the headmaster. 

All of them had candy canes peeking out. 

There was a tree in the corner now - a tall, proud-looking noble fir - looking like an oversized houseplant when it was devoid of lights and decorations. He finished making his coffee and sat down at the round table, eyeing it carefully.

The rest of the castle was still surprisingly devoid of holiday decorations, but if this tree had already arrived, it was only a matter of time before the rest of it started creeping in. Soon enough, the place would look like a tinsel factory had exploded inside of it and the number of trees within the castle walls would put the Forbidden Forest to shame. 

He scowled at the thought. 

Later, he realized he had spoken too soon. 

Monday morning brought a fresh shower of snowflakes, a drop in temperature, and about thirty-six douglas firs into the Great Hall. These were already decked out with lights, ribbon, and colorful baubles. Some of the trees had clearly chosen sides, cheerily standing tall with the weight of red and gold ornaments, while others were laden with green and silver, blue and bronze, or gold and black. 

Garland clung to the old brick, neatly tied with red ribbon and perfect pinecones, spaced out above the portraits and high, arched windows. 

He didn’t want to think about the rest of the castle. 

There was white chocolate peppermint tea waiting for him at the staff table, so he conceded that not everything that morning was absolutely terrible. 

Tuesday was a bad potions day.

Not for him as a brewer, of course, but as a professor. 

By the time both his classes ended, eight different cauldrons had either melted, exploded, or absolutely disintegrated without a trace. He lost a full jar of moonstones because one student had decided to bring the entire fucking container to her table rather than count them out beforehand like he had advised, and it had taken all his self-control to stop himself from breaking down right in front of the class of sixth years. 

He had collected those moonstones himself, wandering the Forbidden Forest all fucking night, with only a lantern to light the way. They were supposed to last him at least another two months before he would need to venture out again - and the last time he had gone out, he’d nearly sprained his ankle on an upturned root and gotten a tree branch to the fucking face. 

Tuesday evening found him four drinks in, asking the house elves to please bring him some hot, salty chips from a local shop, and when the darling little elf returned with the newspaper cone, he babbled stupidly for two solid minutes from gratitude alone. 

Wednesday was a headache, a blur of back-to-back classes, a lot of frustrated yelling at completely inept students, a full pot of that wonderful white chocolate peppermint tea, and a sudden decision to not assign any more homework for the rest of the year.

Not because the awful little slimeballs deserved a break, but because he did. 

The elves made mushroom and wild rice soup for dinner, alongside everything else they always made, and Severus took more comfort than usual in the hot meal. 

Wednesday night was his turn to patrol the castle, so he stayed up half the night wandering the empty corridors. He pulled his cloak tighter around himself as he entered the Astronomy Tower, groaning as he realized Aurora was still there, carefully packing away her supplies post-lesson. 

“Oh, don’t act like you aren’t glad to see me.”

“Believe me when I say I’m not.” Severus returned, stepping to the edge and looking over the grounds. Most of it was cloaked by shadows, but the silver light from the moon was still enough to softly make out the silhouettes of the greenhouses and Hagrid’s little hut. “What, no comment on how I’m out past my bedtime?”

Aurora laughed, putting a bronze telescope back into its case and fiddling with the straps. “Not this time, no.” She glanced up at him and warned: “But don’t you ever make me miss out on family dinner again or you will regret it.” 

Thursday morning he slept in. 

He barely had enough time to pull on his teaching robes and run fingers through his hair before he had to hightail it to his classroom, frazzled and out of breath. He hadn’t had time to prepare the chalkboard the day before, and was quickly writing out the recipe in his messy scrawl, when the seventh years started filtering in.

“Alright, you’re going to need number three pewter cauldrons today,” he called out over his shoulder, finishing the last line of script. “Fill them with two liters of room temperature water and put your burners on low. Today we’re going to be brewing a more complex -”

“Professor?” 

He scowled at the interruption. “What is it, Mr. Greenwood.” 

“I think your robe might be inside out.”

He blinked and tried not to let his face flush with embarrassment. “Thank you, now as I was saying -” he continued awkwardly, shrugging out of his robe and flipping the sleeves inside out. 

“Your shirt buttons are fucked up too.” 

“Language!” he scolded, swallowing down the sharp coil of emotion building at the back of his throat. “And do not speak to me like that.”

“Hey, you’re the one walking in here, unprepared, with your clothes all fucked.” Greenwood muttered. “Just what were you up to before class, sir?” he grinned, his comment eliciting a few chuckles.

“Detention, Greenwood.”

“Now, wait a second!” the boy faltered.

“Do you wish to make it two?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave as he raised an eyebrow in questioning contempt. “Because we can surely arrange that.”

“No, sir.”

“Good.”

He finished the lesson on autopilot, quickly fixing the buttons on his shirt in the supply closet, fingers shaking nervously as he muttered angrily to himself. He shrugged back into his robes, double-checking they weren’t inside out again, and downed a calming draught on a whim - the shiny light blue bottle catching his eye from its place on the shelf - before returning to his desk. 

He made sure to scowl at each of them in turn and surprisingly enough, not another student made an unwarranted comment about his appearance, his teaching, or even each other. It kept him from reaching for another calming draught when he felt its effects lifting. 

Friday found him having a panic attack.

Then again, if no one opened the door to the broom closet he had squandered in, if no one came face-to-face with his crouched down, fingers tangled in his hair, not-quite-yet-out-of-breath, full body trembling self, could anyone really prove he was having an anxiety attack?

He’d barely made it through his second class and had dismissed the second years twenty minutes early, sans homework - and oh, Merlin, they were going to think he'd gone soft - before attempting to return to his personal quarters.

It didn’t quite work out as planned. 

His knees had felt shaky and he’d felt as if something were gripping at his throat, pressing down on his lungs, and he had to sit down and ground himself before he had a full-on breakdown in the middle of the corridor. He’d found himself stumbling, as he hid behind the closest doorway, the tidal wave of unchecked emotions too much.

His resolve was breaking.

He tried to focus on his Occlumency shields, tried to push back the unfiltered pain and fear he refused to think about - could not think about - because if he did, he was afraid he would never be able to function again. He was afraid he would break.

The dam was already broken though and now, now the rest of it felt inevitable. 

Now he was simply gasping for breath, tears welling in his eyes that he refused to let fall, sitting on the floor of a dusty broom closet, bathed in the dull yellow light that flared whenever it sensed movement, like some sort of spotlight - a beacon honing in on him, existing solely to put his downfall on display. 

Far too many thoughts were flitting around his head, crashing into each other and making it difficult to tell them apart, to pinpoint just what had been the trigger, the reason behind his weakness - because surely, that’s what this was right now: weakness.

Footsteps sounded in the corridor and he tried his best to muffle his ragged gasps, hand curled into a fist and pressed into his mouth, teeth sinking into the pale flesh, threatening to break through from the force he was using, so desperate he was to not make a sound. 

It didn’t work.

The footsteps paused, their owner faltering. 

Voices were speaking from the other side, hushed and mumbled, and with another stroke of panic, Severus realized they belonged to more than one. Students, most likely, and he curled tighter into himself, vehemently wishing for the ground to open up and swallow him whole. 

“Are you okay?” a hesitant voice traveled through the aged wood. 

He didn’t answer, but he figured his breaths were answer enough.

“Are you having a panic attack?” a different voice called out, sounding just as unsure as the first. “It sounds like you’re really struggling.”

“Do you need help?”

“They probably can’t answer, dummy.” a third voice spoke up, but this one wasn’t addressing him. They were all familiar, but his brain wasn’t letting him process anything to fruition. “Hey, if you can hear us knock on the door.”

He considered ignoring them, but in the end he knocked.

“Good!” the first voice praised. “Alright, knock if we were right about the panic attack.”

Again, he knocked. 

“Do you want help?” the second student asked. “I’ve helped my share of students through these.” He suddenly recognized Casper Jenkin’s voice, one of his seventh year Slytherin prefects. 

He groaned; as if this situation could get any worse. 

“I’m gonna take that as a no.” Oliver Greenwood’s voice muttered, so apparently yes, it could get worse. He was stumbled upon by his own snakes - and his disrespecting seventh years, at that. 

“Do you want us to get someone?” Allison Bone, the original speaker, questioned. “Madam Pomfrey or your Head of House? If you’re all the way down here, you’re probably a Slytherin, huh?”

He choked out a laugh at that. 

“Laughing!” Bone approved. “Laughing is good! That means you’re getting control of your breathing. The worst part of it is over now.” 

“I’m going to open the door, okay?” Jenkin told him, and the doorknob started turning. “It’s probably pretty cramped in there - definitely won’t help.”

“Don’t!” he let out, just as the door opened and he found himself blinking up at his snakes, the three of them blinking down at him, equally dumbfounded, and he wanted to scream at whatever joke of a higher being had shifted the cards enough to lead him here. 

“Oh!”

“Professor Snape?!”

He lifted a shaky hand to his face, brushing back disheveled locks of hair. “Get out.” he whispered, low and angry, not caring about the semantics that it technically didn’t apply. 

“Are you sure you don’t need -” Bone started, then faltered at the growing expression on his face. “Right, we’re leaving.” 

Greenwood eyed him a second longer than his companions, but rather than the teasing glint he usually held whenever addressing him in class, he wore something softer. “Sorry.” he mouthed, genuine concern flickering for a brief moment before he also left. 

He put his head in his hands and started laughing, softly at first, but when it became an ugly sob, he fought to regain his composure, nails digging into his scalp. 

He managed a deep breath, wiped his face on the sleeve of his robe, and hurried to his personal quarters. He was moving on autopilot now, slipping out of his teaching robes and into a jumper, grabbing a bit of floo powder and calling out a quiet, “may I come through?” when the flames turned a brilliant green. 

He stepped into Minerva’s quarters, bypassing her concerned look and collapsed onto the old couch, pointedly ignoring her as he stared at the vaulted ceiling. 

“Severus?”

“Panic attack.” he mumbled.

He remained silent after that, listening to the rustling of parchment and paper, the soft scribbling of a quill nib making its way across the page. For a few minutes, that was the only sound, until suddenly Minerva stood up and opened up the floo. Hushed voices followed, then silence, and he finally sat up when he heard the distinct pop of a house elf apparating into the room. 

Dorset, one of the school elves most identifiable by his height, was balancing a tray on one hand and a heavy-looking box on the other. He placed both on the kitchen table, nodded at the two, and apparated away.

“What’s this?” Severus asked, his voice gravelly and tired, as he stood up and approached the table. 

The box was filled with an assortment of items - butter, eggs, icing sugar, flour, and the like. He could see a bag full of dirigible plums sitting right on top and he smiled despite himself. The tray was holding two ceramic mugs, their contents hidden by the mountain of whipped cream and cinnamon they were topped with. 

“Sit down with me.” Minerva said simply, picking up the tray and bringing it to the couch. She sat down at one end, placing the cups on the coffee table, and waited. When he sat down, facing her, she handed him a warm mug. “I asked for hot chocolate.” she told him, eyeing him carefully. “Specifically the gingerbread one we had last week.”

“I liked that one.” Severus mumbled, staring down at his cup.

“I know.”

They were quiet for a few minutes, sipping on their hot chocolate, and Severus could feel his anxiety slowly ebb away as it was replaced by warm comfort. 

“You look awful.” she finally spoke up.

He smiled ruefully, but it felt more like a grimace. “I appreciate the honesty.”

“Have you noticed, how every time you experience feelings of distress, someone always tends to interrupt before we can talk?” she asked, watching him. “I think we’ve been putting it off long enough, don’t you think?”

“No.”

“We never got to talk about Yaxley.”

“We didn’t need to.”

“We also never finished our conversation about how you ask for my company whenever you venture out of the castle.”

Severus gripped his mug tightly. “You said enough.”

“You still flinch when people touch you.”

“Can you blame me?”

Minerva paused, studying him in a way that left him feeling exposed. “They’re all connected.”

He kept silent.

Her next words were unexpected. “What about Lily?”

“What about her?” he growled out, anger taking hold and manifesting into shaking hands. He swallowed down the bile he could feel rising, the taste of milk and chocolate suddenly acrid on his tongue.

“You never talk about her.”

“That’s because I don’t have anything to say about her!” Severus finally yelled, nearly dropping his mug. He set it on the coffee table and balled his hands into fists, refusing to break eye contact with the professor before him. “Lily died four years ago, but she stopped being my friend long before that! Do you want to talk about the guilt I carry, knowing it was my fault she died? Because no amount of talking, nothing I do will ever be enough to make up for the fact that I killed my best friend! And I hate myself for that, but Merlin, do I hate her too.”

“Do you?”

“Yes!” he burst out, the words he could never dare himself to say aloud now slipping off his tongue without trouble. “She was my best friend and then she sided with them, with him, after what he did to me! And that’s when I knew she was never really my friend! She saw what he - what he did,” he was starting to gasp for air again, “and she still, she - he -” 

He focused on steadying his breathing, arms wrapped around his torso. 

“I don’t.” Severus finally amended, in such a soft voice he wasn’t sure it even carried. “I want to hate her so much - and I am so angry at her, angrier than I’ve ever been at anyone - but I don’t hate her. I can’t. Maybe I wasn’t her friend, in the end, but I know she was mine. I lost so many people in the war, but she’s the one who hurts the most, so no, I don’t want to talk about Lily.”

Minerva hummed. “You sort of already did.”

He scowled.

“Drink your hot chocolate before it gets cold.”

Some of his anger fizzled out as he finished the drink. When they were done, Minerva stood up and started pulling out the contents of the box, lining them up on the counter. He joined her, watching as she leafed through a cookbook he hadn’t noticed. 

“We’re going to do some holiday baking now.”

“Are we?”

“If you’re not going to talk to me about what led to all this,” she gestured in his general direction, “then we’re going to bake some things for the staff party tomorrow.”

He nodded, sighing. “Where do you want me?”

They spent a few minutes in stilted silence, as he washed the bag of dirigible plums and cooked them down into a sauce, stirring in ground cardamom and honey. Meanwhile, Minerva whisked double cream and cornstarch with vanilla sugar and salt, the pot resting over low flames. He added the plum sauce and smiled as it came together and turned into the warm orange color he remembered. 

“What next?” he inquired, after the thickened mix had been poured into a mold and tucked away in the cold cupboard. 

“Biscuits?”

The sugar dough came together easily enough, pale yellow and perfectly smooth, and as they sprinkled flour over the table to roll it out, Severus started fiddling with the holiday cutters. 

“I can hear you thinking.” Minerva spoke up a few minutes later, dusting her hands off on a clean towel. She reached for a tree-shaped cutter and started pressing it into the dough. “Are you ready to talk now?”

“I have nothing to say.”

“Sure you don’t.”

They finished cutting out all their shapes, moved their biscuits into the oven, and cleaned off the kitchen table. Minerva was opening small jars of sprinkles while Severus whisked together icing sugar and egg whites. He focused on dividing the royal icing into small bowls, adding droplets of colored dye and stirring carefully as if they were a temperamental potion, when he finally broached the earlier subject: “They are all connected.”

“Pardon?”

He didn’t look up, merely repeated himself. “They’re all connected.”

Minerva pulled the baking tray out of the oven and cast a cooling charm before bringing the perfectly baked biscuits to the table. Severus picked one up and absentmindedly broke it into pieces. He shared it with Min and picked up another biscuit, carefully dipping this one into the bowl of red icing and shaking off the excess. 

He reached for the star sprinkles. “I try not to think about any of it.”

“You’ll have to, eventually.”

He thought about the broom closet. “I know.”

Minerva dipped a star biscuit into the bowl of yellow icing and handed it over to Severus, who immediately covered it with three different colors of sprinkles. They worked in tandem for a few minutes, dipping and sprinkling all their biscuits, and eventually a spoon was introduced to their project and Severus found himself drizzling thin stripes across some of them.

“I’m giving this one a Dreadful.” Minerva decided, picking up what was supposed to be an ornament, originally dipped in white icing, but then covered with uneven globs of blue. 

“Fair enough.” Severus shrugged, levitating the dirty dishes and moving them to the wash basin, spelling the water on. He picked up a candy cane-shape that had been rolled in yellow and violet sprinkles and then drizzled with green. “This one, however, is deserving of a Troll.”

Minerva spelled the dishes to wash themselves and then raised an eyebrow at him. “Severus, you decorated that one.”

“I’m aware.”

The yule log cake was a little more time consuming to make. He sat down at the table and watched Minerva separate eggs and whisk the whites with sugar until it foamed.

“It would be faster if you spelled the whisk.” Severus offered.

“We tried that once.” Minerva laughed, not slowing down. “It worked great at first, but all of a sudden, the whisk was flinging meringue all over the room.”

“How delightful.”

Meringue was light and shiny and the brightest white he could imagine. Min filled a piping bag with the foam and showed him how to pipe little mushroom tops on the baking paper. When he took the bag from her, he was surprised to find it bore no weight.

“Do you not know how to hold a piping bag?”

“Evidently not.” he grumbled, looking at his hand and the fluff of meringue that had spilled out of the bag and over his hand. 

“You’re supposed to hold the end closed, you numpty.”

“Numpty?” Severus muttered under his breath.

“Elphinstone always did the same thing.” Minerva shook her head, fixing the bag and finishing the job. “No matter how many times I corrected him, that man couldn’t hold it right. Always went off about how he’s the ministry liaison for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Min, I don’t need piping meringue mushrooms in my skill set.” She took in a shaky breath and set down the bag. “See? Perfect.”

“Min-”

“Don’t just stand there, Severus.” she scolded, thrusting the cookbook in his hands. “Get to work measuring the dry ingredients. You can make the cake while I make the frostings.” 

He started sifting flour and cocoa powder. “It’s okay to miss him, you know.”

“Of course I know that.” she humphed, putting the tray in the oven and spelling the dishes clean. She unwrapped a stick of butter and stared at him. “Do you know that?”

“Minerva, I only met your husband twice.” he deadpanned.

She flicked a bit of icing sugar at him. “Don’t be smart with me. I’m not the one repressing all my emotions and pretending they don’t exist until I can’t stave off the impending panic attack and end up crashing in my colleague's quarters because of it.” 

“Fine, you win this one.” he muttered. “You are the pinnacle of mental health, professor.” 

“Excellent.” Minerva grinned, but her smile seemed a little bitter. “Does this mean you’re going to talk to me now?”

“No.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Numpty.” she repeated. 

---- a/n: i was in the mood for angst tm also the ending feels a little rushed but it is 3am rip. im not gonna finish this series by christmas but my goal is new years. time exists in a vacuum anyway and is not real. ps. let me know what you think pls!! it gives me all the seratonin

[watchtheworldargue]

egg magazine, april 1990. interview with Michael Hutchence

transcription below :)

Michael Hutchence on Lower Broadway

By Hal Rubenstein \ Photography by Steven Meisel

Globe-hopping is hell on a wardrobe and hard on the feet. Sometimes you have to get out of the limo to spend your money.

Michael Hutchence rarely comes to New York without luggage monogrammed INXS or Max Q, so one would think that on a visit without portfolio, the last thing he'd want to do is add on more baggage. But given a free day, a book of tickets, and our offer to go anywhere to do anything, Hutchence got into the limo with an agenda we could hardly call a new sensation. What kept us from sulking was that he hadn't left the devil outside.

Michael: You think we can load this car up with Yamamoto, Comme des Garcons, and Armani by 6?

Hal: Driver, step on it. Down to Grand and make a left.

[The car turns onto Union Square West.]

Isn't there a club on the corner here?

The Underground.

That's the one that keeps surviving regardless of how many people get shot there. How many are they up to?

No one's quite sure.

Where are we now? I don't recognise this.

This strip of lower Broadway didn't exist last time you were here. Now it's like a mall-less town's Main Street.

And Tower Records is City Hall. Not bad. It's wild to see this much activity because people around the world now talk about New York in terms of decay, how New York is such a rude place, and we keep telling them, No, New Yorkers are quite friendly, we like it there. New Yorkers are just very honest. They don't have time to bullshit. I like New York because people are linked to each other. L.A. Is fun, but segregated. Here there is a metro, and a different philosophy of getting around so there's rich upon poor upon rich. The only thing I don't remember is how many homeless are asleep on Park Avenue and everywhere else. Or is it my imagination?

No, it's real. How come you choose to live in Hong Kong instead of Australia?

For about three years, I thought it didn't matter where I lived. But I kept passing through it again. I grew up there, from when I was four until twelve. My dad still lives there. It has great energy, like New York. And it's ten hours closer to the world than Australia is. If you travel a lot, it adds up.

[We enter the Yohji Yamamoto store.]

So austere. Do they go wild if you hand back anything wrinkled? Those clothes over there are good acid-house colors. Has acid house caught on here?

Not like in England.

That's 'cause New York has bad radio. Are these dogs always here? They must sleep in the shoes. Ooh, look at these here. Not very me, but very Star Trek. $500 for a T-shirt. I see. I'll buy six. No, twelve. Now, here is something very stagy. Ultraflouncy. I like that, but the general consensus might kill my career.

Is what you wear onstage the same as you wear off?

I sort of smush them all together. My favorite piece of clothing is a leather jacket I had made for me that says “Hutch” in chain mail on the back.

Did Michael Schmidt make it for you?

Yeah – how'd you know? He's great. He sort of looks like a beautiful snake. He loves all the Hollywood stuff, but he's so sincere when he talks about it. Almost makes me like it. Is there somewhere funkier we can go, like Yankel's House of Pile? I saw that on the way down.

If you want old clothes, we should go to Cheap Jack's.

[We head back up to Broadway and 13th Street. Several young ladies on the corner stare at Hutchence as he enters Cheap Jack's.]

Do you enjoy recognition?

Depends on where I am.

Like when you're out on your own. Shopping, for instance.

Shopping, yeah, 'cause I get discounts. And there is a definite bonus to recognition when I'm onstage.

It makes the night go faster. But I'm not an institution yet. Sometimes I think about how hard it must be for someone like Bob Hope to go for a stroll. I don't really get hassled. I can stand in the middle of a street in London, or even New York, and usually nothing happens. I don't think I have that distinctive of a face. I got recognized in Tangier once, going by in a taxi, very fast … from a distance … in a fog … during monsoon season. Just kidding. It's odd how once you are conscious of being watched, you stop being so self-conscious because you realize there's nothing you can do about it. Of course, nobody in Hong Kong gives a shit who I am.

Aren't people there freaking about the city's eventual realignment with China?

Thousands are leaving a year, but they're the ones who can afford to leave, to give Australia half a million to let them in, though a lot more are going to Vancouver or New Zealand instead because they've heard, and it's fairly true, about Australia's racism.

It's actually more like unconscious racism. There's a naivete to it that you might call charming if it wasn't so sick. See, most foreigners don't realize – because we refuse to believe it ourselves – that Australia is southern Asia. Australia is linked to England in everyone's minds.

Yet most Australians don't have the faintest idea why the Japanese tried to invade us during the Second World War, and can't understand why they might not have wanted any foreigners on the biggest island in the Asian paradise. If we had lost, my home would be covered in rice paddies by now. Australia would have been Japan's Great Plains, their grain barrel.

I've never met one Australian who knows that. We have it so easy in Australia. It's very easy to live there. Tougher than it was before, but that's because five years ago it was ridiculous. I used to live in a three-story, five-bedroom house. It cost me $20 a week.

Did you make that much playing music?

Nah, but so what, we were all on the dole. Everyone went on it. That's one of the reasons you have so many bands in Australia. It's cheap to live and collect, so all the bands go on it. You wouldn't even have to go pick up your employment check; they'd mail it to you or transfer it to your account. Ready cash. I guess because there is such an anti-authoritarian vibe in Australia that people are quite happy to accept government checks. “Aw, screw 'em” - that's the attitude. Lots of people accept four and five checks or even have jobs. It's very lax. That's why we're stuck with the tall-poppy syndrome.

Translation?

Don't be successful, don't rise above your mates, or you'll get chopped. It's weird. It's the don't-leave-the-pub way of life. I think people in America are generally happy for someone's good fortune; they know how to let themselves go. In Australia, they go, “Good, mate,” and don't ask a single question. There are no celebrations for a job well done. I'm still shocked at how Americans cheer you on when they like you. I know you don't fancy it anymore, but I like phrases like “dress for success.”

And that's why you're shopping here?

I love hideous ties. Girls love 'em. Dunno why. Its like red socks. Are the playing Richard Hell? I haven't heard this song in 20 years. God, you must hear better music in clothing stores than you do anywhere else in New York. All these baseball jackets are so cheap. You know what they pay for these in Australia? I should buy the whole lot, take them back. I'd never have to tour again. I could get 150 to 200 bucks just for the ratty ones. I think this is the first clothing store I've been in that wasn't playing videos.

Are videos big in Australia?

We've actually been involved in music video a whole lot longer than in America. Because we are so far away, the only way we've had to understand all this music flying around the world is through video. Since the '50s, even when it was only 10 minutes a week, Aussie tv has been showing music videos.

And we don't censor the way you guys do. The “Way of the World” single is a very serious song, but MTV is quite shy of the video, you should note – I say this diplomatically. They censor here for all the wrong reasons. Like it's okay to stare at Cher's crotch for four minutes, but it's hard to say something truthful about the state of the world.

Could it be because with a group that's become as wildly successful as INXS has, it's inevitable that favorable reaction always turns?

I don't think INXS has reached that point yet. Give us four more years. We've only recently become hip in England. At the beginning, they hated our guts.

Why?

'Cause we are Australians writing pop music, why else? They don't make much in England, apart from nice jumpers and Jaguars, and one of the few things they can claim some turf on is pop music. So, they're not happy when someone else does it. It's a standard trait of island people; they're very territorial.

But you guys are island people too.

Yeah, but we got a bigger island. Now, if we can just get rid of some competition from the expatriate colonies.

Isn't it enough already with this rivalry between Australia and England? L.A. And New York have settled their feud.

England still treats Australia like we're descendants of convicts. Well, I guess we are, aren't we? We're trying to get rid of them, but unfortunately, they're coming back with money and buying up half the country. Don't you resent the Japanese buying Rockefeller Center?

I resent the Rockefellers more.

[Having tried on everything and bought nothing, Hutchence decides against old clothes. We head down to If boutique.]

Armand Basi. Nice stuff. That Claude Montana is fabulous, but God, this stuff is expensive. We don't know anyone here for a discount, do we? My father used to design clothes for a shop in Hong Kong called Dynasty. Glitzy evening wear for too much money. One year, when we did our first tour, we bough ta lot of Sprouse, real colorful stuff, and we spent a fortune, especially when you consider it's disposable fashion. All it had to do was last a month. All the buttons fell off, it shrunk, seams opened up. We would have been more upset, but it made us homesick for the mother country. Disposable fashion is very English. The nice thing about it when it comes from there, however, is that even though the stuff falls apart, it's cheap.

Ah, I like this. Very sexy, very smart. Basi, right? I found the best underwear. I think it's called Nikos. Someone gave it to me last night. Well, that's a plug. No names, please. These pants might go with the Basi shirt. [Like Navy pants, they have over a dozen buttons instead of a fly.] Not good clubwear. Certainly not quick enough to please me.

Your choice of underwear would have to be very discreet.

And always clean. Maybe these pants come with a catheter. Should I ask the shopgirl? [He raises his arm to call her and, wincing, puts it down.]

Just realized a colostomy bag wouldn't hurt?

No. I think I have a cracked rib, from too much fun the other night at Inflation, this super club in Melbourne. Melbourne has some of the best clubs in the world. Great people. Amazing clubs. Sydney has nothing. Boring as hell. Nice place if you're a surfer. Really pretty, like L.A. But very corrupt, Sydney. Everyone is always paying everyone off. That's why you can't afford to do a club there. It's like, in order to get a club license, all the other nightclub owners have to agree to your having a license. And four people control the voting on that. Melbourne now has a club called Razor that is so exciting. It used to an automobile club, especially popular during the '50s, where people used to talk about their cars, you know, with photos of Mini-Minors making hairpin turns around corners. Like a racing club, I guess, except for slower cars. Razor gets the best people.

[He picks up a pair of huge, get-lost-in-the-rain-forest-and-survive black shoes and delights.]

Many people have shoe fetishes. I guess it's around the world actually, not just with Imelda. I think people are probably just jealous of her because they secretly wanted so many pair. But these are big, like size big. Are Americans getting larger feet, or do they just want more room? I always notice shoes when I'm here.

There's almost like a $100 tax on shoes in Australia. Like a pair that will cost you $50 here will cost you almost $200 in Australia. A pair of Levi's cost $100. I never buy furniture in Australia, either, and I have an obsession with furniture the way Americans love shoes. It's a shame I don't have an obsession with homes, too, since I have no place to put all the furniture. I have it stored all over the world.

Let me get the Basi shirt, and then I want to buy records. I would get them later, but I just remembered I have a friend coming in tonight for only one night. He and his father are trying to get down to Nicaragua. They're helping Ortega keep the Contras back. Good luck. What's so weird about their going is that these guys are publishing magnates in England. Entrepreneurs. They should be serious Thatcherites, but they just hate Thatcher. Real lefties.

If everyone is so vocal of their dislike of her, how come she's so strong?

The British love her because they love to be miserable; they love to complain. Thatcher's become irrepressible. She's finally showing signs of faltering, except she's winning by default, because no one wants to put Kinnock in, either. It's like your Dan Quayle. What an alternative.

Are Australians political?

It's compulsory to vote, if you want to call that political. Frankly, nobody particularly gives a fuck. That doesn't mean Australians are not aware people. I think they know more about what's going on in the rest of the world than the average American, but that's because they have to compensate for being in the middle of nowhere. They're more concerned about international politics, about the environment. Every time the Americans come into Sydney harbor with their nuclear ships and submarines, there's always 5,000 people telling them to fuck off.

But the hell with domestic politics?

Do you know anything about our system? It's built on a bickering sort of war. The front page is always about politicos throwing shit at each other, spending more time insulting each other than governing.

Mind you, they are really very good at it. It's a fine Australian tradition of political insult. Listening to parliament is hilarious - “Shut up, you bastard!” - and that's our prime minister, Bob Hawke. He's in the Guinness Book of World Records for having drunk a yard of beer in record time. He is actually a brilliant leader, a Rhodes scholar at Oxford, and he has done a bloody good job, considering the apathy he's up against. What he should be real pleased about its restoring pride in being Australian, particularly after all that nonsense when the governor general dismissed Prime Minister Whitlam in 1975.

How was that possible without the consent of the Australian parliament?

We're still a colony. I think a lot of us were cynical after that. They felt like puppets. Probably had something to do with the CIA. The good old CIA. I'm in their files, I found out. That they should waste their time on me. I'm listed as subversive, for my lyrics to “Guns in the Sky” and because I once threw condoms out to the audience in Northern Australia.

How is that subversive?

The more north you get in Australia, the more it is like the South in America. The man who ran Queensland, one of the biggest states in Australia, was this guy, Joh Peterson, who was in power for over 20 years. Peterson was this sort of South African leftover who arrived in Australia, and he made things illegal, like sex education, abortion, condoms to minors – you couldn't have the vending machines in clubs. [You can now.] Well, I slandered him, and so I got taken to court, where he was thrown out of office from the corruption uncovered during the proceedings.

Did that make you a hero down there?

Say what, mate? This is Australia, remember. Our heroes are bushrangers, outlaws, and sporting stars. If you're an athlete, you can get away with anything.

[Hutchence purchases the Basi shirts, and then we head to Tower Records at the corner. A street person approaches us.]

is this the official mugging committee?

Street person: “Ooh, ooh, here they come in their limo, straight from Saks Fifth Avenue. Board of directors, how you doing, moneys, you big-time decision makers. Uh-oh, who's you? You must be a rock man. Stand aside for the rock man.”

They always pick on me.

“I want to give you something, man. Some humility. But there's only enough for one.”

I don't care for some, but humility is something we can spread around.

“Hey man, this is for seriously. You will love this humility. No side effects, no speed. Say yes, and I can be back in an hour.”

[We go through the revolving door and right to the rock section; within three minutes, Max Q is playing on the system.]

That's good, somebody knows it's out.

[Hutchence buys albums by Ciccone Youth, Camper Van Beethoven, Soul II Soul, Grace Jones, Shakespear's Sister, Jesus and Mary Chain, and Suicidal Tendencies. As he is paying for them, he spots a postcard stand that features a picture of him.]

Holy shit. When did they take this thing? What a bizarre likeness. I hardly know this guy. This is not an approved photo. [He gets the attention of a young lady behind the counter.] Excuse me, please, this is not an approved photo. It's a pirate. Do you know where you get these from?

Salesgirl: “No idea.”

Can you find out?

“Why, do you want to buy a lot of them?”

See, I told you no one recognizes me.

[We walk outside and the street person comes up to him again.]

Street person: “I know who you are.”

Who am I?

“You are someone who's gonna give me a lot of money.”

How much you want?

“Just give me one of those bills, thank you. Now I'm officially your biggest fan. Just tell me what you want to buy.”

I must be dressed for success.

[feuilly-cakes]

Night World by L.J.Smith - Review/Overview

So 2 weeks ago I began a journey to reread one of my most favourite series that I hadn’t read for upwards of 8 years. It was an emotional rollercoaster, between some truly emotional moments and WTF moments, huge plot twists and excited memories. I enjoyed the experience, but let me tell you my reading preferences have changed hugely since I was a preteen and I can no longer call it a favourite, because the entire series is based on insta-love and is written just like you would expect a teen vampire romance written in the 90s. Before scaring you off, let me tell you what it’s about. Every story is about unlikely soulmates, usually between a human and a Night World citizen. The Night World contains vampires, witches, werewolves, and shapeshifters, and it’s forbidden that humans know about it, and it’s forbidden that a Night World citizen falls in love with a human. Although set in the same world and characters appearing multiple times throughout, each book is a standalone and simply follows a formula. If you loved the vampire books of the past couple decades and also insta-love and soulmates, then please check out the series. I have an overview/review of each below.

We begin with SECRET VAMPIRE. Poppy has been diagnosed with cancer and is given only months to live. Her best friend, the mysterious James, says that he can save her, but at what cost? This is a particularly brutal start to a series, dealing with death and grief and huge life changing decisions, but it really serves to drag you into the story and make you care about the characters from the start. It’s very much written as a teen vampire romance though, with the convenient plot happenings and unnecessary drama. It sets the tone for the rest of the series so if you enjoy this you’ll probably love all the books.

Next is DAUGHTERS OF DARKNESS, which follows Mary-Lynnette as she falls headfirst into a mystery of Night World Proportions. Just what were the new girls in town burying in their aunt’s garden? And where has the old woman gone? If you liked Ash in the first book, you’ll be happy to see him again here, this time intent on dragging his sisters back to the enclave from which they escaped. This one used to be my favourite, for the soulmate aspect and the big reveal (not as big or intense to 21 y/o me as 12 y/o me I must say) but somehow not the murder mystery plot, which I remembered nothing about and so was completely immersed in. I also realised around this point that insta-love doesn’t do it for me anymore, and I would have rathered it be a 400 page slow burn than a 200 page insta-love rushed kinda deal. The ending was very sweet so I forgave it for the time period it was written in.

Third in the series was ENCHANTRESS, a story about witchcraft and fighting over a boy. Thea has found her soulmate in a human, but her cousin Blaise has set her sights on him too. Thea must compete with Blaise to save her soulmate, because not only does Blaise play with boys until they break, but love between a human and a Night World citizen is punishable by death. I’m personally not a fan of these sorts of stories, but the sisterly bond between Thea and Blaise as well as the introduction of the witches was interesting enough to tide me through, and I was rewarded with a nice ending.

Volume 2 begins with DARK ANGEL. After Gillian drowns in the dead of winter, she is brought back by Angel, who promises to make her popular and help her get the guy. But who is Angel really, and what does he want from Gillian? As someone who adores flawed protagonists, the selfish, shallow, and hopelessly naive Gillian was a great one. She makes terrible decisions and ignores all the red flags that we as readers can see easily, which is frustrating and great to read about. I loved this witchy story far more than the last, and I really wanted more like it, with lost witches and how they find their way back.

THE CHOSEN is about vampire slave trafficking, so your mileage may vary. Rashel is a bitter and vengeful vampire hunter, sworn to kill them all after witnessing the deaths of her mother and best friend at just 5 years old. When girls start to go missing, Rachel must investigate and stop whoever is taking them, even if it means going up against the fearsome vampire Quinn. This book opens up with the double murder, and then Rachel being targeted for another, which definitely leaves her traumatised. That being said, she is 17 when the main story happens, and has some cringe moments (such as “this kitten has claws” which had me physically put the book down to cringe over it.) The insta love was getting tedious at this point (seriously they meet like 3 times and most of that is spent with her trying to kill him) so when the dramatic plot twist happened I was relieved for some real drama, and drama it was let me tell you. I once again had to put the book down and just gape in shock, for I had remembered none of it. A good read.

SOULMATE, meanwhile, had me in great emotional pain. We follow Hannah, who has been finding notes in her own handwriting telling her she will be dead before she is 17, that she must remembered something important, and that He is coming. Using hypnotherapy, she begins to unravel her past lives and the mystery that runs through all of them regarding her soulmate Thierry, a Lord of the Night World, who she is inexplicably afraid of in her memories. All I can comment here is the reincarnation, star crossed lovers, and soulmates, all mixed into one big story nearly did me in. Also, the characters from the previous books make an appearance, which is always exciting.

This is where we get an overarching plot that never got completed. All you need to know is that there’s a prophesy predicting the apocalypse and there are 4 Wild Powers who are fated to stop it but only if all 4 are together.

HUNTRESS kicks off with Jez Redfern discovering she is a vampire/human hybrid and leaving her vampire gang to go live with her human family. She joins Circle Daybreak and becomes a vampire hunter, but is called back into the Night World when her old second in command, Morgead, demands a position on the Council in exchange for the first Wild Power. She is tasked with uncovering the identity of the person before the Night World Council does, and bringing them into Circle Daybreak alive. The characters in this one aren’t very interesting, but it’s not a problem because the plot goes by super quickly and the mystery keeps the story afloat. If you love a big reveal then this is a good book for it.

BLACK DAWN is about slavery and socks. When Sylvia turns up in the dead of night with news that her boyfriend, Maggie’s brother, has gone missing in a climbing accident and is presumed dead, Maggie feels something isn’t quite right with the story, and in the process of trying to find out the truth she is taken by slavers. She must now survive the journey into the dark kingdom hidden in the mountains, and find the way out, told to her in a strange dream... I found the plot a bit convenient and a bit cliche at times, which is only to be expected from this series at this point. The only thing that truly surprised me was the “The Deliverer!” scene, which you will know immediately when you come to it. Genuinely I couldn’t quite grasp what was happening and so I had no reaction to it but looking back that was bizarre and made zero sense in the context of the book, which until that point was a survival story. An odd one, but not bad until that point.

The final book, but not the end of the story, is WITCHLIGHT. Keller is a shapeshifter tasked with protecting an unknowing Wild Power, delivering her to her bonding ceremony to the prince of shapeshifters, and therefore ensuring a treaty between the witches and the shapeshifters in the coming war. The catch is that the prince is Keller’s soulmate and Iliana, the Wild Power, refuses to accept that she is magical. This was a weird one for a different reason and that reason has scales. Keller seemed annoying at first and so did Iliana, but that was quickly overtaken by the DRAGON?! plotline. My notes on this were very sweary and confused. I liked the history lesson we get on the history of shapeshifters - it seems to be a parallel to colonialism and slavery, and the guilt we feel knowing our ancestors did that to people. On a less serious note, for someone so sharp and strategic, Keller sure is dumb when it comes to her feelings. She’s part of Circle Daybreak and yet doesn’t recognise the soulmate bond when it comes to her and I was frustrated. The fallout of her realising the truth was painful and real, very lovely but in a sad way. The showdown was super exciting and the ending I loved. There was a lot of character development too.

I highly recommend checking this series out. It’s not expensive to buy and is a fun and easy read.

[kpoptimeout]

Top 20 Most Underrated K-Pop Songs of the Decade (2010-2019) PART 2

The 2010s has come and gone before we knew it.  

Continuing with the K-Pop Timeout Tradition (see 2018 Ver) of listing the Top 10 Most Underrated K-Pop Songs because all the other sites are just bothered with the Top 10 that pretty much everyone will have heard of/have fan wars over, below we have created a list of the Top 20 Most Underrated K-Pop Songs of the Decade because 10 spots is not enough to cover the amount of talent slept on.

For these reasons, we have listed 10 of them here in PART 1 and will list an additional 10 in here. This is in alphabetic order NOT in the order of awesomeness because all of them are awesome. Also, all MVs are linked in the song titles because Tumblr won’t let me share that many videos in one post.

Rainbow “Sweet Dream” (2011)

The younger sister group of DSP Media’s highly successful 2nd gen girl group KARA, Rainbow never received much attention at all in comparison, never having received any music show wins since their debut in 2009. While this may be a result of DSP’s mismanagement (e.g. changing the girls’ concept from edgy to cute all of a sudden mid-way in their career and chucking them to promote in Japan before they have a solid domestic fanbase), it was never because of the quality of Rainbow’s music. Even K-Pop critics would agree that their 2011 comeback “A” is an all-time K-Pop classic. However, we would like to bring attention to “Sweet Dream”, because it is one of the best Rainbow songs ever and even more underrated than most of the songs in Rainbow’s already highly underrated repertoire. Following powerful poppy tracks like “A” and “Mach”, Rainbow appeared to be developing a style completely unique of their own in “To Me” and it reached fruition in “Sweet Dream”. It was not just poppy and powerful but showed emotional depth and the beautiful harmonies of the girls. While the girls have all left DSP Media, the girls are super close and they have chosen not to disband, thus becoming the only 2nd gen girl group still active with the full original lineup. The members even self-funded their 10th-anniversary comeback this year. If you love to support beautiful music and an even more beautiful friendship, listen to “Sweet Dream”!

RANIA “Just Go” (2013)

Newer K-Pop fans would probably just know RANIA for Alex’s brief stint in the group and making it the only girl group to ever had a Black member on its lineup. But even before Alex joining the group, RANIA had been known for breaking barriers in the conservative K-Pop industry. Their debut song “DR Feel Good”, which was originally written for Lady Gaga, was seen as too sexy by the Korean public when all they did was wear leather, get low and hair flip a lot. Their later songs continue to be powerful and amazing but it appeared that the public just chose to always label them as the “too sexy” group. “Just Go” is an example of their brilliance that the K-Pop industry was just not ready for at the time. “Just Go” is a party track carried by extremely song vocals and creative choreo where the girls interact a lot with the back dancers. The girls also wore lace full-body suits, leather jackets and actual pantsuits in different scenes throughout the MV. The song exudes so much BDE before BDE even existed as a term. If you want a confident girl group power anthem, “Just Go” is the song for you.

The SEE YA “Be With You” ft. SPEED’s Taewoon (2012)

The SEE YA was MBK Entertainment’s (formerly Core Contents Media) first ballad group after the highly successful Davichi. While Davichi is more of a pop ballad group, The SEE YA being technically a reboot of the RnB group SeeYa went for a darker sound. Their typical sound is encapsulated in their debut song “Be With You” ft. SPEED’s Taewoon, which had lovely harmonisation and also piercing high notes. The vibe of the song simply tugs at your heartstrings like a beautiful melodrama OST. Even the MV itself is a melodrama. MBK really should have promoted the group’s own music more instead of doing lots of cross-group collaborations so more people recognised The SEE YA’s own unique sound. While The SEE YA has disbanded in 2015, their music lives on as extremely underrated masterpieces. If you love dramatic ballads and K-Drama OSTS, you should check out “Be With You”!

SPEED “That’s My Fault” ft. Davichi’s Minkyung (2013)

Another talented group that unfortunately disbanded in 2016 due to MBK Entertainment’s poor management, SPEED is an exceptionally talented group that deserved so much better. Some K-Pop fans may know SPEED for their crazy choreography on heelys, but not as many know them for their vocal and rap talent. SPEED’s debut song “That’s My Fault” ft. Davichi’s Kang Minkyung is one of the rare male idol debuts that was super melodramatic and also pays homage to real historical events. The MV depicts teen love that slowly blossoms in the backdrop of the 1980s Gwangju Democratization Movement of South Korea which ended up with 144 civilian deaths, featuring the acting of Ji Changwook, Park Boyoung, A PINK’s Naeun and Ha Seokjin. For a rookie group to have the skill and emotional depth to convey such a song is rare and there are not even that many veterans groups that have made songs honouring historical events and tragedies. These qualities make it one of the most underrated songs of the decade. If you like songs that pay homage to historical events, you should check out SPEED’s “That’s My Fault”!

SPICA “Russian Roulette” (2012)

When discussing extremely talented but underrated K-Pop girl groups, SPICA would definitely be brought up in such a conversation. The members are all amazing and powerful vocalists with a lot of attitude. Even the visual member, Jiwon, was hitting the whistle register. It is unfortunate that the group was consistently slept on and disbanded in 2017 (although member Bohyung has teased at a possible reunion). It is not an overstatement to say powerful vocal girl groups like SPICA walked so groups like MAMAMOO today can run. “Russian Roulette” is their debut song but it is already K-Pop gold - it showcases every member’s vocal skills and different ranges. The whistle loop in the chorus is also super addictive and memorable. So if you love vocal-heavy girl groups and their songs, you would love SPICA’s “Russian Roulette”!

Stellar “Crying” (2016)

Mainly known for their controversial and sexual MVs, Stellar actually was a very talented group whose talent was often overlooked by controversy due to management by a company that just wanted views when their initial cute debut song “Study” did not generate enough attention. When the group disbanded in 2018, members revealed in interviews that they were uncomfortable with the concepts they had to do and would not have been an idol if they knew it would be like this. And really the company should have allowed the girls more opportunities to do concepts they enjoyed and to showcase their abilities. “Crying” is an example of Stellar’s actual stellar talents - it includes beautiful vocals and harmonies as well as some fun laid-back rap. This addictive summer track would have dominated charts if it was sung by less controversial and already established acts like Son Dambi, After School, AOA or SISTAR. If you love a good summer bop, this is the song for you!

Sunnyhill “Midnight Circus” (2011)

How often do you see a K-Pop song critiquing the harsh realities of the K-Pop industry? Rarely. And Sunnyhill’s “Midnight Circus” is one such song. With the co-ed group donning the concept of a being a dark circus troupe, the song compares the K-Pop industry to that of a circus, where people are forced to perform in dangerous conditions often against their will or in ways they are not interested in. Such insights still ring true today with idols being constantly hurt in poor working conditions or suffering immense and often fatal amounts of stress from public scrutiny. The song itself also draws heavily from instrumentals one would associate with a circus - accordion riffs, heavy usage of the fiddle and also brass instruments. The singing is also very experimental and artsy - at times the members sing like they are speaking dramatically on stage, at times they are whispering ominously. The choreography is also creative and often has the members and back dancers moving like puppets controlled by the circus *cough* K-Pop industry *cough*. The fact that the remaining members of Sunnyhill are currently wallowing in obscurity and do not even have a changing room for their group’s music show comeback stage speaks volumes of how underrated they are. If you love insightful and well-executed concepts, you would be obsessed with “Midnight Circus”!

TRAX/TraxX “Escape” (2018)

In the early 2000s, SM wanted to produce the best solo artist, the best boy band, the best boy band and the best rock band. While they achieve the first two through BoA and TVXQ, SM struggled to make CSJH and TRAX as successful. TRAX has gone through multiple concept changes over the years - from glam metal to pop-rock to ballad now in 2018, the group transitioned to EDM with the addition of DJ Ginjo and rebranding themselves as “TraxX”. A possible reason for previous failures to make TRAX succeed is how their previous styles never fully show the abilities of all members. The glam metal aspect may have helped show Jungmo’s guitar playing abilities but its unique way of singing prevents the mainstream from appreciating Jay’s vocal abilities. While pop-rock and ballad allowed more people to hear Jay’s vocal colour and wide range, it also limited Jungmo’s ability to show his guitar skills. This 2018 comeback is phenomenal and SM should have really promoted “Escape” better - finally with EDM Jay’s godly vocals and Jungmo’s rock guitar skills are unleashed in a way never seen before in K-Pop. While there has been an increase in EDM use in K-Pop this decade, no other K-Pop song has incorporated the genre into K-Pop as well as this song, which also throws in rock. If you love an amazing genre-blender, “Escape” is the song for you!

TOPPDOGG “TOPDOG” (2014)

After BLOCK B’s exit from Stardom Entertainment, the label invested heavily in TOPPDOGG, aiming to make it the Super Junior of Hip-Hop. Honestly, the company should have just marketed TOPPDOGG as the group with the hardest and most diverse rap line in K-Pop because up to this day there is still not a group with as many different and talented rappers. The group had 5 amazing rappers. They also did not lack in vocal talent at all. However, the group never took off and members started to leave to pursue careers elsewhere and the 5 remaining members have rebranded themselves as XENO-T in 2018. “TOPDOG” should have been the song that made TOPPDOGG a household name but somehow it did not. The song was powerful but not a regular powerful boy band track. Sampling Mozart's “Symphony No. 25 in G Minor”, which Mozart wrote when he was only 17, the group hoped to portray the abilities of genius youth and they really did by adding their own electronic and hip-hop flair to the orchestra piece. Even the choreography and MV goes hard and would look futuristic even today with the top-notch CGI. It is definitely one of the best K-Pop tracks of this decade that has yet to be replicated. If you are a fan of dramatic boy band bops, “TOPDOG” is the song for you!

ZE:A “Ghost of the Wind” (2013)

ZE:A, like Nine Muses, never reached their full potential under the management of Star Empire Entertainment, a label which only seems to be able to make 1-3 members of a group into superstars while keeping the whole group itself in nugudom. ZE:A had many amazing tracks but “Ghost of the Wind” is arguably the best of ZE:A and also one of the best K-Pop songs of the decade. The orchestral strings provide the song with a grand and classy atmosphere that also has a sense of urgency. This is complemented well by the theatrical choreography that the members all nailed and the belting of high notes by not one but three members. Yet somehow this song charted poorly when it was promoted and the group is now currently in an indefinite hiatus while members are all pursuing solo careers in different industries from music to even mixed martial arts. If you love an orchestral and grand boy band song, check out “Ghost of the Wind”!

Which K-Pop songs do you think were underrated throughout the decade? Leave your thoughts in the comments section below and let the song sharing begin!!!

[talesofstyles]

I'M OBSESSED WITH THE STYLES GANG! Can you please write more with six kids in it so we can get to know the kids better? Please pleaase please! Thanks!

Thank you anon! Here I’ve got something for you. This is where the kids are older (17-26) and they’re the guests for The Late Late Show with James Corden. The format in this one is different than the ones I usually write but it’d be easier for you to read I reckon. Let me know what you think and I hope you like it!

James Corden: Oh hello, you beautiful lot! God, it’s been ages since the last time I saw you guys. How are you?

All kids: Good! Great!

James Corden: How’s mum and dad?

Eleanor: Uhm, you saw them, like, ten minutes ago back there…

James Corden: I know but it’s on the script, E… *cackles* you made me look bad on my own show

All kids: *burst into laughter*

Eleanor: Hahaha, sorry uncle James

James Corden: Apology accepted, Princess George of Cambridge *smirks*

Victoria: Whoooops

George: *smirks*

Charlotte: Not me, E… not me… *shrugs*

Charles and James: *burst into laughter*

Eleanor: Oh God *cheeks turning red*

James Corden: Hahahaha I’m sorry sweetheart. Okay, I’m not. But let’s get started! Each of you says your name and age

George: Oldest to youngest? Or?

James Corden: Yeah I think that’s a good idea

George: Okay, hello I’m George and I’m 26

Eleanor: I’m Eleanor and I’m 24

Victoria: Hi, I’m Victoria and I’m 22

James Corden: *starts singing* I don’t know about you~ but I’m feeling twenty-two~

Eleanor: Dad… not me *waves hands to the camera*

Charles: Uncle James, dad… *points to James*

James Corden: Oh you’re a brood of snitches

All kids: *burst in laughter*

James Corden: Okay, go on

James: I’m James, one of the most eligible bachelors in Great Britain and Northern Ireland and I’m 20

James Corden: *snorts* Well mate, I don’t doubt it

Charlotte: Hello, I’m Charlotte. He’s *looks at James* 20, which makes me… wait-

Charles: 17, duh!

Charlotte: Heey! *playfully hit Wolfgang’s biceps* but yeah I’m 17

Charles: I’m Charles and I’m the baby of The Styles Gang. I’m 4 minutes younger than Charlotte, so I’m also 17.

All kids: *burst in laughter*

James Corden: *shakes his head in laughter* Alright so I’m gonna pass this bowl around. Each of you gets to pick one tiny paper from there and when you pick it, you read the question that’s written in there out loud and each of you have to answer. You can answer at the same time as well if you’ve got the same answer. Ready?

All kids: Yes!

James Corden: Here you go, George

George: Alright *picks one* wait- it’s blank

James Corden: Who put it there?! *looks at the crew and chuckles*

George: Another blank. Seriously? *chuckles* ah, this one’s not blank. Alright, ‘When you wanted something, would you go to mum or dad? Or both?’

Victoria: Well, 101, you can’t go to both

James: Yeah, they’re always on the same page

George: Absolutely. When you asked mum and she said no, then you asked dad…. you’re in deep shit

Charlotte: Seriously, it’s a big deal

Eleanor: I did that and I thought I was never gonna see the daylight again *chuckles*

All kids: *laugh hysterically*

Victoria: I remember she was so scared she thought she was gonna die

James Corden: Hahahaha, how old were you?

Eleanor: Twelve? Thirteen? Couldn’t remember exactly but it was around that

George: I feel like it depends on their moods. Like, if I wanted something and I wasn’t sure how mum and dad feel about that, I’d wait until Saturday to ask them because they always wake up on their best mood literally every Saturday. I’m not kidding.

James: This is disgusting but I’m almost certain they do it every Friday night

The girls: IEWWWW! *scrunch their faces at James*

George and Charles: *shake their heads in laughter*

James: Seriously

George: You’re right. They always ditch us and go on a date night every Friday night so that makes sense

James: And you do realise how bright and chirpy they’re every Saturday, right?

James Corden: Oh yeah that’s solid right there. They definitely do it.

Charles: Also it depends on what you’re asking. If you’re asking for permission to do something then it’s mum. But if you’re asking for something, like a toy or gadget or something like that, then go to dad because dad is less fussy with that.

George: Oh yeah, that’s true! *pass the bowl to Eleanor*

Eleanor: Alright, ‘If you had children which one of your siblings would you trust to look after them?’ oh, none of these lot! I don’t trust them, I’d give them to mum and dad.

All kids: *burst in laughter*

James: Hey! You can trust me! M’gonna be t’best uncle, y’know!

Eleanor: I’m certain you’re gonna be the best uncle but I don’t trust you to parent my kids *cackles*

Charlotte: Honestly that’s a good choice, just give ‘em t’mum and dad. They won’t mess them up.

All kids: *burst in laughter*

Victoria: Alright, ‘What was your siblings’ pet names or nicknames?’ hmm, so George has always been Georgie. Eleanor is E, mine’s Viv. James is Jamesies, Charles is Charlie and Charlotte is Lola, so we used to refer to the twins as Cbeebies... you know, Charlie and Lola

James Corden: Did you guys see your dad’s bandmates a lot?

George: We went to the same school as uncle Ni’s kids, Luke and Emma, so we saw him a lot. And I was in the same football club as Luke until we were around twelve.

Victoria: Eleanor and I had ballet class with Poppy, uncle Mitch’s daughter so we saw him quite often too

James Corden: Oh that’s neat! Alright, keep going

James: ‘What was the last text you sent to each other?’ well we’ve got a group text so we usually just talk there. But wait, let me check for the private ones. *scroll through his phone* oh, it’s for Charlie *chuckles* I said, “do not come home now, mum’s pissed at dad.”

All kids: *burst in laughter*

Charles: Tha’ was last week, wasn’t it? *cackles*

James: Yeah. Mum and dad rarely fight but when they do, it’s a bloody war zone.

Charlotte: *picks one* ‘If you got a call that your sibling was in jail, what would be the first crime that comes to mind?’ Charlie or James would probably about public urination or something like that

All kids: *burst in laughter*

James: Heey!

George: Well you did pee in public in LA once

James: Tha’ was probably when I was like seven or something

George: No, that was last year!

All kids: *burst in laughter*

Charles: *picks one* ‘Who cooks best? Mum or dad?’ oh absolutely mum. Dad’s shit at cooking!

Victoria: I swear he can only cook two things: that brussels sprouts thing and chicken soup. Tha’s it.

Eleanor: But he’s good at baking

George: Mum’s good at baking too

James: Mum’s good at everything

Charles: *cough* kiss-arse *cough*

All kids: *burst in laughter*

James: Alright, we’ve still got some questions left so I think we can do another round. Your turn again, George!

George: *picks one* ‘Who’s closest to mum? And who’s closest to dad?’ I think us boys are closer to mum and the girls are closest to dad

Charlotte: True!

Eleanor: ‘What is the dumbest decision your sibling has ever made?’ *cackles* oh God. Okay, I’ve got that fly story on the top of my head now.

All kids: *burst in laughter*

Eleanor: Tell it, Viv!

Victoria: Oh God. Alright, so I was around eight or something. We had little cows on the window sill in front of the kitchen sink and one day I was in charge of the washing up after breakfast. It was Saturday I think. Suddenly I saw a fly out of nowhere when I was rinsing the dishes and I didn’t know what I was thinking, but…

James Corden: Oh I think I know where this is going… *cackles*

James: Poor little cows…

Victoria: I was like… “fly!” and eight year old me thought the smartest thing to do was to throw one of the cows to the fly. It missed so I threw another one. When it finally went out of the window, I realised I broke literally every single cow on the window sill. The broken piece was scattered all over the kitchen. Some on the floor, on the sink, even on the counter. Then I remember dad walking into the kitchen and he was like, “bloody’ell!” I was so scared but he just sighed and said, “let’s clean that up before mummy gets home.” Then we went all over London looking for bloody cows to replace them.

James Corden: Did your mum notice that the cows were different?

Eleanor: F’course she did, they couldn’t find cows so they brought home some ducks.

All kids: *burst in laughter*

George: Did you guys remember that kitchen accident?

James: Oh I was thinking about that too *chuckles*

James Corden: What? Another kitchen accident?! Styles you should’ve put a hidden camera in the kitchen!

All kids: *burst in laughter*

James: Alright, so we used to circle around the kitchen. All of us. We’d walk on top of the counter then climb up to the fridge and then get down to the counter on the other side before jumping to the kitchen island and then back to the counter over and over again.

Victoria: The rule was we couldn’t touch the floor *chuckles*

James: Mum just had the twins so she was napping with the babies and the rest of us were in the kitchen. George was here, Eleanor was there and Victoria too. I was on top of the fridge and I wanted to jump straight away to the island instead of going down to the counter first.

George: The thing was, there was an open box of cereal on the island and a jug of milk

James Corden: ……oh God *hands over his mouth*

Eleanor: We cheered him on. Like, clapping our hands

Victoria: We even chanted, “do it! do it!”

James: So I did. I jumped superman style. There was a tick of silence.

Eleanor: The kitchen was a shambles. The milk was all over the place, the cereal too! *snorts*

George: I’m the oldest so I knew I needed to act tough. I was like, “alright, s’okay, we’ve got this. We just ‘av t’clean it up.”

James Corden: Did you manage to clean the evidence?

Victoria: Here’s the funny part: we did clean the kitchen, but it turned out there was a camera in the corner. We made a home video almost every day and that’s why it was there and none of us suspected anything but it turned out that it was recording the whole time!

James Corden: Oh God, did your parents say anything?

Eleanor: They did eventually, yeah, but it was like a couple weeks later.

Victoria: Alright, is it my turn again? *picks one* ‘Are you closer now or when you were younger?’ I think we’ve always been this close. Growing up of course we had friends outside but we spent most of our time playing with each other. And sure we don’t live in the same house anymore now so things change a bit but we still see each other at least three times a week and we never stop talking in the group text so really nothing has changed.

James Corden: Aw, that’s sweet!

James: Alright, *picks one* ‘Which one is most likely to have a big family?’ oh Eleanor for sure. She’ll have a whole brood of little royals. *smirks*

Eleanor: *throws a pillow at James*

All kids: *burst in laughter*

George: James, mate, she’s gonna kill you *cackles*

James: Absolutely not, my sister loves me dearly. Right, sis?

Eleanor: I am NOT talking to you!

James: Eh, fair enough *snorts*

Charlotte: *picks one* ‘What was the biggest lie, you sibling ever told your parents?’ I couldn’t remember why but one time Charlie was so pissed at me and he came to dad and told him the worst thing he could possibly think of… he told dad I was a drug dealer.

James Corden: NO WAY! *burst in laughter*

Charlotte: Dad was like, “no, Charles, she’s not. She’s nine.” and the best thing was that dad pulled the exact same thing when he was six or something and told nana the exact same thing about auntie Gem.

George: It’s so funny every time nana tells us a story about dad because he was basically Charlie and Charlie was basically little Harry. They look exactly the same, they’ve got the same terrible sense of humour, they’re basically the same person *chuckles*

Charles: Well, good thing he’s my dad. If he’s not that’d cause a big problem right there

All kids: *bursts in laughter*

James Corden: Alright, the last question is all yours Charles

Charles: *picks one* ‘What is one thing that you really admire about your parents?’ hmm, I’d say how they love each other? That’s… man, I want to have a relationship like that one day. They disgusted us on a daily basis–still do by the way–and we always pretended that we were gonna puke every time they kissed in front of us but it’s just so amazing to see, y’know? Believe it or not they still bloody flirt all the time and yeah that’s absolutely disgusting to witness but s’also amazing.

George: That’s true, but I also wanna add about their patience? I mean they almost never raised their voice at us and I know we did some pretty messed up things when we were little that sounds funny now, sure, but it wasn’t back then.

Charlotte: Oh yeah! Usually, we’d just get “I’m disappointed in you.”

James Corden: I’ve known your folks long before you were here and I’ve always known that all six of you are gonna turn out amazing because you were raised by the coolest, best, most amazing parents out there. Hell, Styles, adopt me please! *high fived all kids*

All kids: *burst in laughter*

James Corden: Thank you for coming! S’really good to see you guys.

All kids: You’re welcome!