#saint george looking ass

[orfeoarte]

favorite outfit? I got you covered

#wyllweek #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #wyll ravengard #wyll bg3 #saint george looking ass #I LOVE HIMMMM YOUR HONORRRRR #wyll #orfeoarte

[m1ssunderstanding]

Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day 16

Not the Love Actually India footage! https://archiveofourown.org/works/40600110/chapters/101720886 by @inspiteallthedanger is a favorite I should revisit after this painful day.

“Yes, what Were we doing?” Literally, why did you start this conversation, Paul? What did you think John and George were going to do? Just let you have your little casual chat about the footage? Come on, you know them better than that. “In your room?” “Yeah, right. I remember, yeah.” You set yourself up for this, babe. 

I would LOVE to know the real context for John’s mic-job. Because yes, that is real. He really did do that while staring like That at Paul. But it wasn’t after he said, “I don’t regret anything. Ever.” What was the real moment where John decided that was his move? And did Paul really just keep talking right over all of that? Beatles tumblr deserves access to all that footage just for all the obsessing we do. 

It is noteworthy, certainly, that we know for a fact that a good chunk of John’s India footage is just Paul, but in how much of that footage, I wonder, is Paul also focused on John?

We all know Paul approves, but why did we have to use valuable time to show monkey sex? I did not need to see that. 

“I have all the tapes, too.” Those laughs. You guys aren’t as sneaky as you think you are. Also, @ Lennon estate you won't release the tapes. Chickens.

George is just SO sick of their shit. “Because that was the purpose of going there was to try and find who yourself is.” AKA ‘I took your dumb asses on this beautiful spiritual retreat and you had to make it about your stupid psychosexual obsession just like you do with everything else.’ “And if you were really yourself, you wouldn’t be any of who we are now.” AKA ‘if you two would stop fucking hiding, we – me and Ringo too, you’ve dragged us down with you – wouldn’t be in this hellish mess.’ And here’s the thing. He’s pissed off. And rightly so. But he’s still going along with their veils and secrecy. A callback to his strumming over Paul ranting at him. He’ll still protect them even when he fundamentally disagrees. George is such a beautiful person and so underrated by people like me.

 Paul’s appreciative little look as John finally ends the difficult conversation. 

"Bye, Bye Love” is DEFINITELY *meaningful*

John calling Two of Us “Four of Us” is so sweet. Like saying to George and Ringo, “You are important too. Just because we don’t have weird thoughts about your physical adjacency to Elvis Presley, doesn't mean we don’t love you.” 

I think John’s willingness to be taught is also an underrated leadership quality of his. All the old men obsessed with Leader Lennon won’t acknowledge it, but that’s what it is. It’s humility and a recognition of other’s strength and it’s leadership.

Literally everyone else: Just don’t look and it’ll go away. John: what? Don’t look at Paul? I don’t know how to do that.

George and Ringo honestly had the patience of saints to just sit there and play through Two of Us eight million times so John and Paul could do their little accents and silly voices.

And then John can also do the traditional leadership, too. “Start again, ey. Shh, don’t talk when he’s playing there, gang.” And really, he’s the best of the four for that job by far.But it’s far from acerbic or cutting. Get Back John is certainly almost undiluted Lovely John. 

Quick reminder to anyone who may have forgotten: those boots George is wearing are literally Paul’s hand-me-downs. Earlier on the nagra reels, George was describing a kind of boots he’d like a pair of and Paul was like “I’ve got some you could have.”  Permanent baby brother status. 

“That’s a good idea, John.” “Yeah, well I’m full of ideas like that, I’m famous for ‘em. Literary Beatle, you know.” Puhlease. I know fics with more realistic dialogue.

“The things that’ve worked out best for us haven’t really been planned any more than this has, it’s just. You know, you just go into something and it just does it itself.” Yeah, George. Because of Brian. 

Paul really wants to do a big Thing at the end, because he loves performing, yeah. But what’s this about John and Yoko’s black bag? Does he think that performing together will remind John that being a Beatle with Paul is what he loves? Or does he just want closure before everything falls apart?

He really does hate to see him upset, doesn’t he. Like, I think he does a lot of things purposely to get a reaction out of Paul. And sometimes he needs to see him hurt to know he even cares. But from the way he’s watching Paul chewing his nails and rocking, you’d think Paul’s worries affected John physically. And then he breaks into “I Lost My Little Girl” almost as a sort of knee-jerk comfort instinct.  

These two shots are comedic gold.

My cabaret boys again. Heck, maybe I’ll write it just for myself. Honestly though I love that the two Beatles who loved performing and who would’ve been performers in any life (would’ve been performing circus elephants if they’d been reincarnated as animals) got to continue doing it into their eighties. One of the few happinesses in the end of the Beatles.

Get Back really is such a great character study, though. George hands John a drink. John takes it without looking at George, let alone the drink, and gulps. George hands Paul a drink. Paul smiles at him, then proceeds to sniff it and swirl it and inspect it like it might be poison before he gives it a taste. 

John chewing the mic. I hope you didn’t do That to Paul’s dick in India. What if that’s all that happened?

Bitching and gossiping: top requirements in the job description for John Lennon’s Codependent Special Person.

In these last few minutes of the day, I’m relating more and more to George. I’m sick of John and Paul and all their drama and stupidity. John suggests they write another verse of Let it Be together, and Paul looks frankly horrified at the idea.

So John lays his head in Yoko’s lap, reminding me painfully of that “ . . . except you can go to bed with it and it can pet your head without . . .” quote.

And then a few minutes later, Paul’s spiraling again and asks to go home to which John responds with a tease. “I’m just tryna get the group working, you know,” and “You’re gonna have to be strict, Paul.” And it’s just dizzying and frustrating at this point. Where are they possibly going to go at this rate?

#sorry that this one was late #And probably less coherent or insightful #Two jobs and a teething baby and a depressed husband today so it is what it is #paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #mclennon #ringo starr #george harrison #get back

[theweirdgoodbyes]

misadventures at nix’s tavern

“Joe, you’re fired.”

“No, I’m not.”

Lewis Nixon put his head in his hands and wonders why the fuck this needed to be happening today of all days. Despite never advertising as such, but possibly having to do with his brusque employees and inability to keep a female hire, Nix’s Tavern had gotten the reputation as both an Irish bar and a gay bar; March 17th and June 28th were their busiest days of the year. It was the morning of Saint Patrick’s Day and all hands were on deck to keep shit as together as possible: Joe was an active hindrance to that. Joe, all 135 pounds of him, was his best bartender and worst nightmare rolled into one. He could make a drink quicker and better than anyone, was never late, and managed to piss off everyone who stepped in the door, highlighted by last night’s disaster.

“Joe, don’t do this to me today. C‘mon, man.”

“You can’t fire me. What did I do wrong?” Joe, who he doesn’t even remember hiring by the way, throws his arms up.

“What did you-Joe, do you remember calling a woman a troglodyte last night? Because I do. Do you remember her throwing one of my martini glasses at your head? You still smell like olives.”

“I didn’t call her a troglodyte, I called her boyfriend one,” Joe shrugs, looking back at the bar he had been summoned from, “Can I get back to my prep?”

“Her boyfriend, oh, my deepest apologies,“ Nix presses his hands together in mock remorse, “Yes, you called her boyfriend a troglodyte. That makes it so much better. Joe, I cannot fucking have you here tonight. Just go home. Please, man.”

“You can’t expect Welsh and Luz to be on bar alone!” Joe cries, pointing at the two other bartenders who are supposed to be cutting limes but seem to be having more fun balancing shot glasses on their palms.

“They have each other. Put the fucking glass down, George!” George shoots Nix a quick thumbs up before the three glasses he has balancing in his other hand fall to the floor and shatter. George just gives him a shrug. God, this day needs to be done with already.

“Lew, are you fucking stupid?”

“Stupid for letting you work here? Stupid for opening this place? I’m the biggest idiot on fucking earth.”

“Lew,” Joe says, as serious as Joe can ever be, “I’ll be good tonight. Promise.” It’s a bold faced lie, but they both know that Joe needs to be here. A fact that Nix hates and Joe will never let him forget. For all his flaws and abilities to irritate the shit out of most of their customers, Joe had been a godsend after Buck quit.

“Joe, I swear to God,” Nix says, the same warning he’s given him time and time again, “Last chance.”

“Last chance.” Joe gives him a shit eating grin and a wink before getting up from their table and heading back to the bar, grabbing a pan and broom on the way to clean up George’s mess.

Joe fucking Liebgott, Nix laments as he gets up and makes him way to the kitchen to check on Malarkey, I hope you get your ass kicked tonight.

Enjoy this little add on to my other dive bar!au posts, all of which are now tagged under “misadventures at nix’s tavern!

#misadventures at nix’s tavern #enjoy this little snippet! I think this au will end up being mostly little screenshots of moments at the bar #because who needs a plot #hbo war #band of brothers #band of brothers au #band of brothers fanfiction #hbo war fanfic #Lewis Nixon #joseph liebgott #maddie writes

[fanfic-lover-girl]

Bookstore scene: The tale of the 2 manbabies

First of all, let me preface with this: to me, the Weasleys are low class. Not in terms of wealth but in terms of how they carry themselves. Someone can be poor and carry themselves with poise and elegance. And someone rich can act as if they belong in the gutter with the riff-raff. In Jamaica, we say this saying by Professor Rex Nettleford "A butu in a Benz is still a butu".

This is not me saying the Weasleys are a horrible family (not the best either) or that the Malfoys are saints. I just hate the conduct of the Weasleys in general. I have seen some people on Tumblr praise how they act but I am not one of them.

Like father, like son - Reacting with physical violence when provoked by words

“Not as surprised as I am to see you in a shop, Weasley,” retorted Malfoy. “I suppose your parents will go hungry for a month to pay for all those.” Ron went as red as Ginny. He dropped his books into the cauldron, too, and started toward Malfoy, but Harry and Hermione grabbed the back of his jacket.

“Clearly,” said Mr. Malfoy, his pale eyes straying to Mr. and Mrs. Granger, who were watching apprehensively. “The company you keep, Weasley . . . and I thought your family could sink no lower —” There was a thud of metal as Ginny’s cauldron went flying; Mr. Weasley had thrown himself at Mr. Malfoy, knocking him backward into a bookshelf. Dozens of heavy spellbooks came thundering down on all their heads; there was a yell of, “Get him, Dad!” from Fred or George; Mrs. Weasley was shrieking, “No, Arthur, no!”; the crowd stampeded backward, knocking more shelves over; “Gentlemen, please — please!” cried the assistant, and then, louder than all —

Props to Arthur for lasting longer, I guess. Barely. How embarrassing, starting a fight in front of children in a public area like a hormonal teenage boy. Molly said it best:

“A fine example to set for your children . . . brawling in public . . . what Gilderoy Lockhart must’ve thought —”

It's not an admirable trait for a man to be so quick to use his fists to solve conflicts. It may sound romantic but it's an express ticket for your man to end up in jail.

Two men acting like children

Also, look here:

“Well, well, well — Arthur Weasley.” It was Mr. Malfoy. He stood with his hand on Draco’s shoulder, sneering in just the same way.

Arthur is such a wonderful family man that he launched himself at Lucius while he was standing near his preteen son. He could have hurt Draco in the scuffle. The cynical part of me thinks Arthur doesn't give a damn if a child was hurt in the process of him acting like a teenage punk.

And why is Lucius wasting his time mocking the Weasleys? Does he not have better things to do? He's not exactly teaching his son proper manners either.

Just look at this man baby:

He was still holding Ginny’s old Transfiguration book. He thrust it at her, his eyes glittering with malice. “Here, girl — take your book — it’s the best your father can give you —” Pulling himself out of Hagrid’s grip he beckoned to Draco and swept from the shop.

Throwing books at a little girl like Lucius isn't a grown-ass man. Exiting the scene like a humiliated highschool mean girl. No wonder Draco is like this. Goodness.

#malfoy family #weasley family #arthur weasley #arthur weasley critical #lucius malfoy #lucius malfoy critical #chamber of secrets #harry potter books #draco malfoy #ron weasley #testosterone stupidity #men acting like children

[uzumaki-rebellion]

"Sinner & Saint" : Creed III Chapter 10

Need to catch up? Masterlist HERE.

"You are my light in the dark

Show me the way with your heart

I know I'm not used to this feeling

But it's clear even when

I'm a thousand miles away

I'm so taken by ya, can't stop thinking bout ya

I am in love and from where I stand,

I am your man, I am...all, all…"

Terrell Grice feat George Lovett & Saeed— "All"

Donnie blinked at all the photographer lights flashing white and yellow blasts at him. Bianca and Amara sat to his right and Athena and Tony sat to his left with his new business partner Herb Raffe and the always ubiquitous Buddy Marcelle. Behind them on a giant ESPN banner his likeness held the coveted heavy weight belt and his upper body glistened and popped with muscles. Donnie knew this day would come, and the emotions roiled deep inside his chest.

Seated near the phalanx of news media and photographers were a few selected fighters on his roster, including Dame. The usual rush of questions came at him and he answered with the sophistication that all of his media training provided. Donnie needed to appear adroit and confident as a new brand manager and businessman. The transition from boxer to brains behind a multi-million dollar operation had to go off without a hitch.

"Why now, Adonis? Pundits say you have a good two-to-three years left in you."

The female reporter asking the question stood up holding a small notepad. She was a familiar face in the boxing scene, Carly Deloach, the daughter of a media magnate. Carly tossed back blond highlighted hair and gave him a warm flirty smile coaxing him to give her juicy details.

"It's time. I've reached the pinnacle and done everything I can to show the world that the Creed legacy is something to admire and be proud of. There's nothing left for me to do but usher in a new generation of talented boxers and pass on the wealth of knowledge I've gained from my training with Rocky Balboa, Tony "Little Duke" Evers, and the matriarch of the Creed family, Mary Anne Creed…hey Ma, love ya!"

Donnie winked and blew a kiss toward a camera that he knew transmitted his message to his mother at home. Another reporter jumped in, a cocky Sports Illustrated veteran who had doubts about Donnie from the very beginning until he finally won the belt. Patrick MacLaughlin was an asshole, but a fair one when he looked at the stats on all boxers. Patrick's stomach lopped over his belt, and his thinning hair stayed slicked down.

"Adonis, you toss around legacy a lot, and as the talented son of a beloved icon who has brought back a coveted world champion title to the family name—"

"I have to cut in, sorry Adonis…" Buddy said.

Buddy Marcelle gave a smirk that Donnie couldn't tell if it was meant to be rude or just hustling for air time. The man glanced at Athena who looked beautiful as always, dressed in a tight pumpkin top, and dark flared designer slacks. Buddy cleared his throat and continued.

"The Creed legacy can't be spoken about without mentioning the fact that Athena Creed brought back the first championship title to the family. I know this press conference is about Adonis, but Apollo Creed has two world champion fighters up here on this panel. Put some respect on your big sister's name, Adonis."

The crowd chuckled and a few of the women representing the media clapped and called out Athena's name.

"You right, you right," Donnie quickly blurted. He threw his arm around Athena. "My big sis is the first of Apollo's children to bring home a title. You people out there in the MMA arena are lucky she's a sports manager now instead of whooping ass!"

Athena laughed it off.

"Athena! Athena! Could you beat Adonis in a one on one?" Another reporter shouted.

Donnie pushed his table mic closer to her.

"Tell 'em," Donnie said.

Poised and polished, Athena leaned in.

"I had to always keep Adonis in check. The only thing he has on me is height and muscle weight," Athena joked.

Buddy horned in again.

"I think we need to see a big ticket event with these two, Creed versus Creed."

Athena waved a dismissive hand to Buddy and she patted Donnie's arm to get him back on track.

"Athena… what does this moment mean for you watching your brother retire?" Carly asked.

Something sad flashed across Athena's face and she composed herself. Reaching out to hold Donnie's hand she squeezed it and took a deep inhale.

"Our father would be very proud that both of his athletic children have found their niche to excel beyond fighting. Adonis will bring in a lot of new talent so that other boxing legends can come forth down the line…Donnie?"

Athena pushed the mic back toward him and sat back in her seat.

A new volley of questions hit him and Tony up fast and he allowed the last few questions to go to Bianca and Amara, who signed her delight at having her father home more since he didn't have to train and travel so far away as much. Bianca translated for the media and everyone clapped when Amara said that she planned on being a boxer like her Auntie Athena and her daddy.

Once the retirement portion was handled, Donnie spent the rest of the press time answering questions centered on his new venture. He revealed his partnership with Buddy Marcelle in promoting the new company. Everyone in the audience saw dollar signs and a revitalized boxing scene. Afterward, Donnie posed with his family for pictures. He also posed with a few of his boxers. Dame was pulled into the mix and Athena made sure he stood next to Donnie's future cash cow, Felix Chavez. There was still bad blood between Dame and Sleepy from their sparring dust up. But Felix soaked in the media exposure knowing he was the guy to watch. Two other strong contenders for heavyweight champ status enjoyed the limelight too.

A buzz entered the room the moment Dame's name rang bells, and during the retirement mixer Donnie set up for the ESPN coverage, Athena fielded questions with Dame. Felix felt a way about Dame shifting attention his way, but that was all due to Athena. The press loved getting soundbites from her and she was an expert at snagging spotlights for clients. She damn near twisted his arm to get Dame a seven figure signing bonus. She haggled for more through Dame's lawyer when they went over the contract, but Donnie didn't want to get his partners riled up over an untested client. He sweetened the deal by offering to put Dame in their ads over the next six months to bolster his visibility. She agreed to that…barely.

Athena was a pitbull, and she worked the room forcing him to do the same for Felix and the other boxers. They were both hustlers and no matter what she did to get Dame more exposure, it only helped Creed Enterprises.

"Hope I didn't step on your toes during the press chat," Buddy said, easing next to Donnie.

"Nah man, you were right to bring it up. Athena was the first, and she was way better than me when I started."

"I think people in this business tend to overlook her fighting talent. Just so you know, I want her to work for me one day."

"I doubt if she would, but you can certainly try," Donnie quipped.

"How come she's not a part of Creed Enterprises?"

"She wants to do her own thing."

"So no hard feelings if I poach her from her current gig?"

"Like I said, good luck with that."

"Her managing Dame isn't a problem for you?"

"Dame needs special handling. My sister likes a challenge and she is making a lot of good moves for him."

Buddy kept hawk-like eyes on his sister. Bianca and Amara joined them and they worked the room celebrating his new life. Patrick from Sports Illustrated approached him. Donnie pumped his hand up and down with enthusiasm.

"When can Felix sit down with you for that cover story?" Donnie asked.

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you about an in-depth interview with Damian Anderson. Athena pitched me a whopper of a comeback tale and I want to jump on it before Rolling Stone does."

"Pat, we talked about getting Felix on there before his next fight. He is the next big thing—"

"Yeah I know, but Damian is a more compelling story right now. When can we get together and talk shop about him?"

Donnie checked for his sister striding across the room holding a plate of food with Dame stuck to her side.

"Call Maxine to set up a date on my calendar, Pat"

"Great. You've got a helluva roster Adonis, and if the buzz on this Damian pans out, you and your boxers could dominate for years. Congrats on the retirement, too."

Pat shuffled off to speak with other reporters and Donnie stared at Felix who chatted with his mother/manager by the bar. He now had to come up with an excuse as to why he wouldn't have the next cover story. Fuck. Perhaps he could work in a one-on-one interview with Stephen A on SportsCenter for immediate coverage to get Felix out there first.

Athena handed Dame a shot of top shelf tequila and they both gulped back the liquid, letting it warm a trail down their throats.

"Doing okay?" she teased, watching Dame's lips pucker up from the intense taste.

"I don't need no more of that today," he joked.

"Look alive," Athena said.

Buddy Marcelle looped around a group of former boxers hooting it up and slapping backs at battles long past won.

"Today went well," Buddy said.

"Thank you for the kind words. I appreciate the shout out."

"I only spoke straight facts. You my dear are the crown jewel on Apollo Creed's crown. Folks need to remember an accurate legacy history. By the way, you look lovely today. That color brings out your skin tone."

"I can leave if you just wanna flirt," Dame said.

He had a smile on his face, but his tone said different. Buddy patted Dame's shoulder to defuse the heat in the boxer's eyes.

"Beauty and brains need to be acknowledged kind sir. I'm about to head out, I have an interview with Molly over on First Take tonight."

"Oh yeah?"

Buddy noticed the arch in her eyebrow and chuckled.

"You smell blood in the water and want to jump in, huh?"

"Hell yeah. I set up a cover story for Dame with Pat over on Sports Illustrated. I'm taking Eden from Rolling Stone to dinner tomorrow, trying to pitch my client."

Buddy eyed Dame with a sly quirk of his lips.

"Maybe let this man win some bouts before lining up too many interviews."

"I'm aiming for exclusives down the road for that."

"Okay…get his name out there. I see you. Can we meet up with some of my people to talk future promotions? Your brother's roster is full and he has to strike with his first string."

"He promised to give Dame as much attention too as part of our contract deal."

"Athena, you know how the game is. Chavez, Alvarez, and Jackson have Adonis booked and busy. Take advantage of some promotions in Dame's favor. My connections run deep big sister. Dame, I hope you do some serious winning these next six months before Adonis loses interest."

"He won't," Athena insisted.

"All I'm asking for is a sit down with you and Dame on my turf. Check out the lay of land and get in where you fit in." Buddy glanced at his rolex. "Call me when you're ready. We can make it dinner at 71 Above. Javier has a new menu I think you'd both like."

"I'll let you know."

Buddy meandered toward the exit leaving Athena with thoughts about Donnie cooling on her client. She snatched up another shot of tequila from the bar.

"He's right. You've got to win big to stay on Donnie's radar."

Dame put a hand around her waist and pulled her in close. His touch ignited arousal in her and she wanted so desperately to kiss his lips. They hadn't had any private time since they returned from Vegas. She needed him…needed the intimacy that shut out the world.

"Careful," she said stepping back from his solid wall of warmth.

Dame grinned and removed his hand before anyone clocked their true relationship.

"Invite Marcelle to my first fight. He'll have no doubts about me," Dame said.

"Don't worry, he'll be there on his own. That man doesn't miss anything that can make him richer. I think you should mingle with the other boxers now. I'm done beating the bushes for game."

Dame touched his index and middle finger to his forehead and saluted her before walking over to Donnie and the other fighters. She grabbed a glass of white wine and bee-lined over to Bianca and Amara. Her niece hugged her waist and Athena ruffled the spiral curls on top of her head.

"Excited?" Athena asked Bianca.

"Relieved. I couldn't wait for this day. Ma is ecstatic because he will finally use that business degree from college."

Amara took off skipping over to her father. Bianaca studied Athena's face.

"Does it bother you when people forget that you're a champion too?"

"That was so long ago—"

"Not really. You seemed happy that Buddy brought it up. I could tell."

"I appreciated him saying it."

"Will you come by our place for dinner tonight?"

"I thought there was going to be a big dinner celebration with Ma at the mansion."

"I wanted to do something at our house to give her a little break."

"A break from what?"

Bianca pulled her to the side.

"Have you noticed Ma slowing down or forgetting things a lot lately?" Bianca asked.

"Slowing down, yes… but that's her getting older and not doing the stretching and strength training I've tried to help her with. Maybe her hip is acting up. I mean, it's been a year since her replacement surgery, but…"

Bianca's expression hinted at something more serious. Her voice went even lower in volume.

"I think you and I should go with her to get checked out. The other day she was driving me to lunch and I noticed some eye-hand coordination things that have me concerned."

"You think it's something serious?"

"If I broach the subject she'll dismiss it, but if you come with me and talk to her about it, maybe she'll listen. I'm with her all the time and a different voice may convince her to make an appointment. Donnie had a lot going on and I didn't want to worry him about it. I was thinking we could talk to her after dinner. If it's at my house, she can't make an excuse to be busy hosting everything. It'll be out of her element."

"What time?"

"Seven. It'll be a catered BBQ around the pool, casual dress. Donnie wanted a lowkey family-oriented party. No celebs or anything like that. Just our people."

"Okay, I'll come to the house and do some girl time. Who else is coming from the gym?"

"Tony, Stich, Smoky... Padman and Amir. You can bring Dame if you want."

"Why would I bring my client?"

"Girl, be serious."

Bianca snickered and Athena rolled her eyes.

"That man has heart eyes for you and can't let you out of his sight without his neck swiveling."

Bianca moved in closer, and her eyes darted about before she spoke.

"I know what happened with him and Donnie."

"How do you feel about it?"

Bianca glanced over at Donnie and Dame speaking with the other boxers.

"It was a shitty situation and they were kids back then. Dame sounds like he wants to make the most of the opportunity to box again and Donnie will help him."

"It's the least he can do, right?"

Donnie walked over swinging Amara's hand.

"Ready to dip?" Donnie asked.

He kissed Bianca's cheek. Bianca spoke and signed at the same time.

"Yeah. I need to get the house ready for our guests tonight and check in with the caterers."

"Coming by right?" Donnie asked Athena.

"I have to check in with a few other clients downtown and I'll be over around seven-thirty depending on traffic."

"Cool. Hey, you were great up there. I'm glad you agreed to sit at the table with me. I wish Ma was here though."

"She hates media stuff and I'm sure she wanted the focus to be about you. I'll catch everyone tonight. Bye Ladybug."

Athena signed away for Amara, and her niece hugged her tight then clutched both of her parents' hands. A surge of people bid farewell to Donnie. Athena made her quiet escape from the crowd and sought out Damian.

"I'm going to pick you up at seven tonight," she said.

"For what?"

Dame followed her steps out of the ESPN building and waited with her for their valet parking.

"You were invited to attend Donnie's private family retirement party at his house by Bianca."

"Not Donnie?"

"Not sure, but Bianca is on to us. I think that's why she extended the invitation. Do you want to go? Sorry for assuming you would just go with me."

His lion-like eyes brought butterflies again. Dame had a way of looking at her that made Athena feel safe and protected.

"I want to go…with you. I like that you assume that about me. It's true."

"Okay, great. It's a date. We'll have to carry on like client-manager for appearances, but it'll be more relaxed. My mother will be there…if you change your mind, I won't be offended."

"Nah, its fine. It's time that your mother met me away from all the limelight. Maybe she'll finally see the real me."

"Trust me. She won't.

"Well then, that's on her. Not me."

The valet brought her car around and they both climbed in for the drive to Venice Beach.

"Want to come inside for a minute?" Dame offered once they reached his place.

He stood outside of the passenger side, leaning in through the window. Temptation reared up, but job responsibilities took precedence for Athena.

"I can't. I have some work to do."

"How about I meet you at your place and save you the drive out here? I'll leave my car in your parking garage."

"That'll work."

"Later," he said.

He tapped his fist on the door and strolled to the house he rented a room from. Despite having a million dollars in his bank account, Dame chose to stay in his Venice rental until he won his first post-prison fight. That would be in one week, and she had a lot of things to do to drum up more pub. The buzz about him in the ESPN mixer could only last so long before the sports media moved on to the next interest story.

Her day continued until she clocked out from her office. She swept into her condo showered, and changed into a comfortable pair of olive green cargo pants and a knotted, off-the-shoulder knit top in a loud tangerine color. Slipping into heels, she checked her landline for messages and ignored the ones from her ex who flew back into town from Toronto. Nolan was a long-distance fling that became a bit more the previous year, but Athena caught wind of some red flags, one of which was a whole ass wife and child with another baby on the way. Before the discovery of his indiscretion with her, Athena's gut warned her pre-relationship not to entertain a man below her pay grade with a Drake-like personality of feigned kindness and "you-go-girl" performative musings in her ear, but she was in a dick drought and a hook up every now and then from a Canuck worked around her schedule at the time.

Nolan started acting weird too, sending her flowers and gifts out of the blue, even after she clearly defined the boundaries of their relationship after she broke it off. Now he was back to leaving messages swearing he divorced his wife and was ready to make a true commitment. What a fucking loser. He had deluded himself into thinking they were serious instead of just a poor match. She blocked his number, erased the other unimportant messages and waltzed out of the premises to meet Dame at her garage entrance.

He arrived on time and she showed him where to park his car and ordered a ride from her reliable car service. They were picked up promptly and she held Dame's hand in the backseat, snuggling against his shoulder like they were headed to prom together.

"You look nice," she said, sniffing the cologne on his neck.

She noticed a new platinum and diamond chain around his neck.

"Finally splurged," he said as she fingered the necklace.

"Good for you. Listen, since this shindig is at Bianca's, my mother may be a little more extra because she can't lord over anyone in the family mansion. If she becomes too much or gives you a hard time, let me know and we can bounce quick."

"I'm not worried. Relax. This night is about Adonis—"

"Tuh…trust me, everything will revolve around her. Me and Donnie know how to stay outta her way when she gets nitpicky."

"She gets along with Bianca?"

"Yeah, they're pretty tight. Bianca lost her parents young and most of her family is back in Philly. She's a great buffer for me because she doesn't have a mother-figure in her life, so she takes up a lot of mother-daughter duties that would be hell for me if I had to do it all the time. Don't misconstrue anything though. I love my mother and we have our own good times, but sometimes she gets a little classist and obsessive about things and I can't take it…so Bianca does. It smoothes Ma out and brings balance to the force when we don't butt heads."

"I hear ya young Jedi," Dame teased.

By seven-forty five they reached the private entrance of Donnie and Bianca's place. Athena hopped out of their ride to punch in the gate security code. A yellow cab pulled up to the driveway behind their hired driver. An older man with a black hat climbed out from the back of the cab and looked around the neighborhood. Athena recognized the pale leathery skin and puffy nose. She sprinted down to the street.

"Ohmigod, Rocky!" she shrieked.

Rocky Balboa stood humbly dressed in an old black bomber jacket and a clean white shirt. His wrangler jeans were faded and comfortable-looking. He held out his arms for Athena, accepting the big kiss on his cheek from her.

"Yeah, I just happened to be in the neighborhood and thought I'd check up on some retired boxer whose s'posed to be living here. Am I at the right spot?" Rocky joked in his heavy Philly accent.

His jovial eyes stared at her.

"Athena, my god girl, look how beautiful you are. It's been years sweetheart," Rocky said.

Athena wiped her eyes from errant tears.

"Whaddya crying for? It's just me, Uncle Rocky. Is the BBQ here yet? I'm starvin'."

"I guess we'll go see," she said.

"Me being here is supposed to be a surprise. Bianca said to give the gate intercom a code word to hide me from Donnie, but my old brain is gettin' foggy with time, so…hell if I know what the magic word is to get inside."

"No worries, you can come in with me and…Dame…come over and meet the only Italian in our family."

Dame walked over with a grin on his face. He held out his hand for Rocky to shake.

"An honor to meet you Mr. Balboa, sir."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Dame. This is a nice-looking young man Athena. Mary Anne must be excited to see you settling down like your brothers."

"Um, actually Rocky, I manage Dame. He's a part of Donnie's new venture."

"A boxer. What division? I don't keep up on the ins and outs as much. I spend more time with my grandkids up north," Rocky said.

"Heavyweight," Dame said.

"You're going to know more about him in the weeks to come. Let's get you inside before Bianca sends out the calvary," Athena said.

She punched in the gate code and Dame gave up his seat in the back of the car to Rocky. He climbed into the front next to the driver and Athena linked her arm around Rocky's.

"I can't believe you're here. You look good Unc. Being up north looks great on you."

"Thank you. Health is holding up. Knees are a little rusty sometimes but I'm still here."

"Drop us off right by the statue, please," Athena told the driver.

They all left the car and Rocky continued looking around.

"Nice…lotta space," Rocky said.

Athena texted Bianca and three minutes later she bounced out from the house trying to contain the squeals at seeing Rocky.

"Bianca…"

Rocky hugged her and Bianca squeezed his shoulders.

"So happy you're here. The caterers finished setting up out by the pool. Everyone is here mingling, so Athena, I'll go back in with Dame first to throw off Donnie, then you can bring Rocky in through the house."

"Sure thing," Athena said.

Music started playing and echoed in the front of the property. Bianca led Dame around the side toward the back and Athena guided Rocky inside the front door. Amara met them while coming down the stairs and the little girl's hands flew around signing her happiness at seeing the Italian Stallion, her godfather. Rocky hugged her and used sign language to warn her about the surprise. His thick fingers moved slower and he checked with Athena to make sure he did alright. Amara understood everything, complimenting him on his ability to sign so well and clasped his hand to follow Athena through the living room and long gameroom that led to the back patio door facing the pool area.

The music, a jazz fusion, buffeted the laughter and loud talking. Athena could smell the delicious aroma of ribs and her stomach growled in anticipation. She stepped outside first and took in the celebratory scene. At least forty people chatted and drank expensive liquor. Donnie was in the middle of introducing Dame to Padman and right away she observed her mother's lips growing tight as she stood with her companion, Archie. Athena ignored the cool facial expression of her mother and caught Bianca's eye. Bianca gave her a nod, and she cleared her throat.

"Hey, Donnie, there's a man over here looking for you. I don't know if he's supposed to be here," Athena said.

The tone of her voice over the music brought everyone's attention in her direction. Donnie rushed over and Rocky appeared next to her with Amara grinning by his side.

"Unc!" Donnie yelled.

Everyone reacted with a burst of praise shouting, rushing over to Rocky. Bianca clasped her hands together, pleased that her surprise brought on the intended reception. Dame hung back near the food set up, right across from Mary Anne and Archie.

The glee of having Rocky there showered the air with rousing sounds of joy all around, but Mary Anne's eyes cut over toward Dame, and he gave Athena the biggest smile of support. She could face anything with that smile in her corner.

Athena took a deep breath and strolled toward her mother.

Tag List:

@unfriendlyblkhotti3   

@cherrellek  

@yomiloo

@goddessofthundathighs​

@eyeknowmywrites

@melaninpov

@movie-enthusiast22

@themakingsofdion

@prettyisasprettydoes1306

@capswife

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@sk1121-blog1

#creed 3

#Creed 3 #adonis creed fanfiction #adonis creed #damian anderson fanfiction #damian anderson #Rocky Balboa #michael b. jordan #jonathan majors #Uzumaki Rebellion #Uzumaki Rebellion Wriites #creed fanfiction #sinner & saint

[spark-glow]

top 5 gulag moments

This is so fucking hard, dude. I'm gonna say this one is in no particular order just because of the nature of it. Also doing 10 because the Gulag is too funny for just 5.

1.) When Rewind was off his gourd on pain meds and desperately tried to warn King about his peppers when y'all were playing Stardew Valley.

2.) That one time Snow ordered really really hot wings on accident and I instructed him to up the sensitivity on his mic so we could hear him suffer through every single bite and it was, without a doubt, the most horrible 15 minutes of our lives. I would make him do it again.

3.) This bit from when we were binging the entirety of the George Lopez show.

4.) When we rocked some random poll on babycenter for DAYS ON END so some poor kid out there would be named fucking Nedward. Genuinely possible that we led to a real human being being named Nedward.

5.) Tony's peggle stream. Literally had me, him, King, and Remy sitting there for 2+ hours, entirely invested in every single part of what was happening in that game. The 3 of us were sitting on the sidelines while he was playing like trusted military advisors, goading him into ploys such as 'just trust the zen ball, zen ball knows more than you 4head'. When we finally beat the last level, it was like we were on the streets when WW2 was declared over. Bedlam.

Also Tony made the stream look like fucking THIS by the end, which was a MESS.

6.) Both of these instances of Tau sleepy posting just days apart. I know it's technically 2 events but they're so intertwined in my head. Him perfectly and coherently saying 'DROWN' in the middle of the convo is literally legendary to me.

7.) Every single silly bit we've ever done in Red Dead Online, but especially the two times we've spent 25+ minutes sailing from Saint Denis to Thieves Landing so we could go over the falls in a big conga line of boats, AND all of the time we've spent at the fucked up bridges at Hennigan's Stead.

Shout out to Percy for clipping an instance of the latter together for us. Sad I don't have the footage of when Tony got slingshot into a rockwall and was forced to see a version of Kicking Horse (my character) that was just a generic white lady, but this is just as good.

8.) That one time I convinced Rewind to secretly send a fucking Intruder makeship plushie to Tony's house, so he could not only avoid really expensive norway shipping but also have a funny surprise for when he came to the states next. We uh... did not expect his mom to open the package and give Tony the funniest fucking heart attack in the world.

9.) Remy editing Shockwave's tits to be bigger and then trying to see if anyone would notice. Shout out to King for getting my ass when I wasn't even fucking AWAKE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

10.) This could go to so many fucking things but i'm gonna go ahead and put down when we were arguing about what color Prime Ratchet was and found out the Pope died smack in the middle of the debate.

Special shout outs go to armored freaks, olm posting because I was forced to see bad TF content, and every single one of the really fucking funny Apex clips we've gotten that I can't share cause they aren't up anywhere yet.

I love the Gulag.

#SONAR #gulag #long post #ask game

[briamichellewrites]

1

1998. Bria Michelle Johnson was the adopted daughter of investor, Chris Johnson and makeup designer, Rita Johnson. Together, their net worth was in the multi-billions. They spoiled their daughter with whatever she wanted growing up. She went to a boarding school in Switzerland where she was able to participate in their theatre program. They also paid for voice lessons, acting classes, piano and guitar lessons; and dance lessons. She learned ballet, jazz, and hip-hop.

With only three hundred students, the school was quite small. They knew that if given a chance, she would be on stage performing. Whether it was dancing during talent shows or performing in one of their plays or musicals. She often had the lead role because of her talents. Her parents tried to see her performances whenever they could.

At eighteen years old, she learned that her parents were killed in a car accident. A driver under the influence of drugs and alcohol crashed into their car at over a hundred miles an hour. They both died on impact. Because of their deaths, she was given everything. That included their house in Los Angeles, their apartment in Waldorf-Astoria, their car collection, a private plane, a house in the Hamptons, and a house in Middletown, New Jersey.

After graduating, she returned home to LA. She had nothing, as everything had to go through the probate court before it legally became hers. Her family’s attorney allowed her to live in the house until everything was settled. She could then sell or keep whatever she wanted. The house was her childhood home, so she wanted to keep it.

She was introduced to Brad Delson and Mike Shinoda by Jeff Blue, an A&R guy for Warner Music. He heard her demo and he had her come in for an audition. Once she was signed, he had her meet them. They introduced themselves to her. It’s nice to meet you. What kind of music was she looking to play? Indie folk or country. She wanted to tell stories like Bruce Springsteen. Even though she had grown up in Switzerland and LA.

Jeff had her play something for them, so she got a guitar that was lying around and picked it up. When she sang, they heard her voice. It sounded like nineteen-sixties folk rock. Maybe a little Johnny Cash or Joan Baez. When she was done, they clapped for her. Where did she learn how to sing? She had voice lessons in school. What school did she go to? She went to Saint George’s Boarding School in Switzerland. They had a performing arts program.

Boarding school? What was that like? It was an interesting experience. She guessed it was like college, except with more adult supervision. They laughed. What else did she learn? Did she take any music lessons or classes? She took piano lessons, dance classes, and acting classes. For dance, she took jazz, hip-hop, and ballet. It was a great way to work out.

She had to be on stage performing, even when she fell on her ass. They laughed. That happened once during a ballet recital. She got up, bowed, and then went back to the choreography. They wanted to help her with her album, so they invited her to join them. At the moment, they were using Mike’s in-home studio to make demos. They thought she would get along well with their band members. She thought it sounded like a cool idea, so she accepted their invitation.

Mike lived in a rented house with his college roommate, Joe Hahn. Together, they formed a band with Brad, Rob Bourdon, and Dave ‘Phoenix’ Farrell. They were currently looking for a lead singer after firing Mark Wakefield. He and Brad introduced her when she came over. The guys thought she was beautiful! Joe offered her a coke.

Yeah, thanks. They found she fit in perfectly with them. She could tolerate their sense of humor and she wasn’t afraid of being the only girl. Her long brown hair had been dyed black and cut short to her chin. It was hidden underneath a beanie. She had tights underneath shorts with an oversized Bon Jovi t-shirt and a plaid long-sleeve top. Dave asked if she was going grunge. She was feeling a little Seattle rock at the moment.

She was thinking of piercing the cartilage in her nose and getting a tattoo to honor her parents. What happened to them? They were killed by a driver under the influence of drugs and alcohol. I’m sorry. Thank you. She also wanted to adopt a kitten.

“Decisions. Decisions. What will you decide to do”, Rob joked.

“I don’t know. I’m indecisive. I’ve always wanted a cat but I’ve never been able to. It wouldn’t have been fair because I was at school.”

“Bria, get the cat”, Joe said.

“I might have to give into peer pressure.”

They laughed. Did she get the cat? She did! Woody was an eight-week-old brown and white domestic shorthair kitten. Everything about him was adorable! He meowed at her and pawed at her leg, making her crouch down to him. Hi, human! She said hello to him and scratched his little head. He got excited when he saw he was getting adopted. I’m going home! Meow. Meow.

They went to Petsmart to get everything he needed. He had a collar and a leash, which were required in the store. As they walked around, he looked at everything while in the cart. He was curious about everything! There was so much to see and smell and hear! There were humans everywhere! He wanted to say hello to them. Meow. Meow. Some of the workers stopped to say hello to him. Hi, human! I’m Woody! I got adopted today!

He wanted to play on the belt at the register, but Bria picked him up. She didn’t want his little paws getting smashed. When they got to the car, she put him back into his carrier before putting the purchases in the backseat. Yes, she had an assistant who usually did the shopping for her, but she wanted to do this herself. Nicole was hired by her mother to take over the day-to-day responsibilities.

She was a woman in her twenties who had recently moved to LA from New York. They also had a long-time housekeeper named, Rosita. She and her husband, Miguel immigrated from Mexico in 1990. They both loved Bria and her parents because they were so kind to them. Her parents gave them money when they needed help paying bills or expensive gifts. They were considered family to them. Bria was not a spoiled brat, despite her immense wealth.

She was taught to never look down on anyone and to always be thankful for what she had. Everything could be taken away from her at any moment. Woody had zero knowledge of that. He was involved in watching his human put everything together for him. His water and food bowls went into the kitchen. She filled up the bowl with water before setting it down. His litter box went into the laundry room.

His toys, bed, and cat tree went into the living room. He had everything a kitten could need and want. For the moment, he wanted to play. Bria went into the kitchen and found the takeout menus. She looked through them as she thought about where she wanted to order from. As she made up her mind, the phone rang. It was Dave. She invited him over and gave him her address. After hanging up, she ordered pizza to be delivered. She then went to the living room to play with Woody.

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon @fiickle-nia

[tracing-rivers]

for the "not from the us" asks

10. most enjoyable swear word in your native language?

11. favourite native writer/poet?

26. does your nationality get portrayed in Hollywood/American media? what do you think about the portrayal?

27. favourite national celebrity?

Merci pour cette ask ^^

10. Most enjoyable swear word in your native language?

Nothing like a good "putain" ("fuck", literally "whore") to punctuate a sentence.

And "sa mère" ("their mom"), short for "sa mère la pute" ("their mom the whore") which stands for "whoopsies" in my mouth. (Many of our slurs are sex work based, that's why it's called SWearing).

That said, I've also trained myself to "zut et flûte" ("dang and flute") mechanically now. Sounds more professional at work.

11. Favorite native writer/poet?

Pierre Corneille. Read Le Cid, putain, I'll never say it enough.

26. Does your nationality get portrayed in Hollywood/American media? What do you think about the portrayal?

Y'all have a thing about frogs uh.

And you need to understand that France is not entirely Paris (specifically the cute little cobblestone streets of Paris). And Emily in Paris is not accurate btw it's so fucking stupid (besides the McDonald's at Saint-Lazare station is so much "fancier" than the one on the Champs Elysées if that's where you put your standards, get your facts right).

(Also, history time, there's a lot of stray bullets towards France as a whole in American media. The thing is, those jibes are a fairly recent thing, cause we used to be your liberty buddies. We free you from the British, you free us from the Germans, tit for tat. But then George Bush Jr wanted to invade Quwait for oil and our gov was like "excüse moi you can't juste blatantly invade a country for resources that's our thing" and Bush was like "aw but I want to" but the French vetoed him so, much like a 13 yo going "you're not even my real father!!1!1" after his dad wouldn't let him get a tattoo of Bart Simpson's ass, Bush mediatized a whole anti French propaganda campain. I assure you that all of the jokes against the French that you've seen on TV in the past 25 years are the result of this campain. So yeah, I don't really care about criticism that comes from the same place as freedom fries. (Which are Belgian btw. Fries are Belgian.) Everyone else gets a pass though.)

27. Favorite national celebrity?

Well that's extremely broad. We've got a lot of those but I don't really have strong parasocial feelings about anyone.

Okay, uh Philippe Poutou, for comitting to the bit of telling it like it is and barely being a politician as a result.

And I want to snuggle in front of a fire with Pierre Niney but who wouldn't. And nail entire cast of The Three Musketeers (2023).

And Joueur du Grenier on Youtube, look him up, a lot of his videos come with subs. He's got the Nostalgia Critic style, and he's the last of the big French Youtube Pioneers to still do quality stuff.

#Romain Duris as Aramis is one of the greatest casts in history. Even though Aramis is like 23 in the book still he's great. #However how do you cast Vincent Cassel as ANYONE but Richelieu. IT'S HIS FACE

[topdog-georgette]

"fifty-six blue ribbons. fourteen regional trophies. SIX-TIME NATIONAL CHAMPION."

inspired  by  !  georgette (oliver and company)

added inspo  !   blair waldorf (gossip girl), miranda priestly/emily charlton (the devil wears prada), samantha jones/carrie bradshaw (sex in the city), alison dilaurentis (pretty little liars), massie block (the clique), shelby cummings (a cinderella story), chanel oberlain (scream queens), regina george (mean girls), lindsay edgecomb (before i fall)

georgette audrey foxworth. jordan alexander. august 18. leo. influencer. new york city, new york. heterosexual. primadonna - marina and the diamonds. breakfast at tiffany's. college. choleric (dominant). estj. lawful neutral. n/a. slytherin. (🎀 💎)

present !! 

Georgette is bitter. She’s in Elias because she has to be, not because she wants to be… and where she wants to be is her 5th Avenue penthouse in the city of her dreams living the life she was supposed to have after looking her mother in the eyes and telling the divorce lawyers that she would be staying with her father. The girl is in denial about all of her inner demons and that manifests itself in an ego the size of Manhattan. An ego that Jenny and Oliver (and now the whole of Elias) has to deal with. Georgette is supposed to be looking out for the pair as they navigate through university, but she’s more concerned with rebuilding her brand in a mysterious city that she knows nothing about. She went from holding New York in the palm of her hand to now having to start all over on the bottom of the Elias barrel. The girl is determined to show this city (and her new adoring fans) that she’s the cream of the crop and will always end up on top.

past !!

With a silver spoon in her mouth the moment she was born, Georgette inherited wealth and status without any examples of how not to abuse it. Especially with her father as a role model. She wanted for nothing and always had eyes on her… so naturally the more she grew, the more spoiled she became. Georgette ran with the elite of New York City and made sure everyone knew it. Her lifestyle revolved around money and luxury, and it began to drastically corrupt both her attitude and her identity. At the end of the day, the only person she ever felt like she could let her guard down around was her mother. Now, Georgette’s mother was by no means a saint. She wasn’t always around and wasn’t necessarily the best role model either; but to Georgette she was everything. Her mother knew all her fears, all her dreams, all her doubts— she was almost like a sister. Their connection was undeniable… until Georgette’s father forced her to choose between love or money.  That decision, as well as everything surrounding her father’s affair, brought out the worst in Georgette. How could her father choose the maid over herself and her mother?? And on top of that, he was slowly trying to be a better person because of them? Why couldn’t he be better for his actual family? Georgette quickly went from spoiled to all out rotten. For the first time in her life she felt inferior, so she made her father (and everybody else) feel the same in return. Their father-daughter relationship was replaced by something more comparable to business partners, and eventually Georgette found herself shipped out to Elias with Jenny and Oliver scum and scummer.

future !!

My hopes for Georgette’s future is for her to embrace who she truly is away from the money, the attitude and the limelight. Georgette has big dreams and actual talent that she suppresses in fear that she will fall from the top of her sky-high pedestal. Deep down, she wants to be more than the person she pretends to be. She wants to apologize to her mother. She wants to have real friends who care about her instead of just her net worth. She wants to be recognized for more than just her beauty… I’d also love for her to eventually come to terms with Jenny and Oliver. Georgette would be a pretty kick ass older sister after she’s knocked down a few pegs!

taken connections !!

step sister/roommate: jenny foxworth

"cousin"/roommate: oliver cohen

past fling/hook up: freddy jones

friend: max dennison

wanted connections !! (open to plotting about anything!! these are just ideas!)

frenemy(ies) (someone she advertises as her bff and is with often but the friendship isn't genuine)

rival (nemesis; someone she's in constant competition with)

friend(s) (genuine friends she'd slowly open herself up to)

blackmailee (someone she's blackmailing to get what she wants)

blackmailer (someone who's blackmailing her to get what they want)

neighbor(s) (someone in her orbit due to them living in the same apartment building/street/neighborhood)

devil on her shoulder (the bad influence. someone she turns to when it's time to let loose, party, abuse some substances, etc.)

pretend friend (someone she attaches herself to due to their status, fame, money, connections, etc.)

protege (someone she tries to turn into a mini-georgette)

unlikely friend (someone she will deny she ever knows of their existence but secretly finds herself enjoying her time with)

#walt.intro #I HOPE I DID THIS RIGHT #ty for welcoming me to your world :)

[icarus-suraki]

Thunder, dahlia and sunset!

thunder: would you ever get a tattoo? If so, what are you planning on getting? My. Mother. Would. Kill. Me.

That's an exaggeration but she does find tattoos creepy, and I do value my mom's opinions, so I don't think I'd ever get a tattoo because I wouldn’t want her mad at me or disappointed in me or to think I’m gross or creepy.

But if I were to get a tattoo? A year or two ago I would've 100% gotten the muted posthorn from The Crying of Lot 49 on the inside of my wrist (probably my left wrist but that's just because I'd draw it there with a Sharpie or waterproof eyeliner Back In The Day).

I was planning on going to Dublin the year I turned 38 (2020) because Leopold Bloom in Ulysses is 38 and I didn't succeed in getting to Dublin when I was 22, which is Stephen Dedalus's age in Ulysses. My plan was to get a tattoo while I was there of my favorite line from Ulysses: "The heaventree of stars hung with humid nightblue fruit" and the Doodles Family from Finnegans Wake. I kind of wanted the Doodles Family under my collarbone the way some people have Roman numeral dates?

Anyway, tl;dr: COVID put the kibosh on that one and I probably wouldn't have had the courage anyway lmao lmao. But having been called Issy for several years by a brilliant Irishman, I feel like I too am part of the Doodles Family (that's obscure and I apologize).

"So it goes" has also been a top contender in the past, especially when a classmate in the English department said "I love how you just say 'so it goes' like in Slaughterhouse Five." I never realized I did it but apparently I did. I still do, I think. That classmate was writing her senior research paper on The World According to Garp. I was writing mine on The Catcher in the Rye.

Otzi the Iceman's tattoos are also cool but the Ukok Princess found in Siberia has better ones and it would be neat to replicate those.

For a while in the past, I thought it would be really cool to have a set of sigils or geometric patterns all over my back and maybe down one arm, something that was like ~ooooh I'm well-versed in strange magic and carry such signs on my body oooooh~ Maybe this was inspired by Fullmetal Alchemist but I can't really remember. Geometric and sigil tattoos are super cool but I think my intention there is kind of cringy. (I also had some even more decidedly cringy tattoo ideas when I was younger--like the classic cringe "feathered wings on my back" kind of shit. Let us not speak of those days.)

I think I'd want only one or two pieces and they'd need to have significance to me and I'd want them to look intentional in some way. I worked with a guy who had this amazing Celtic knotwork cuff around one wrist. That was his only tattoo and the only one he intended to get because that was the kind of "style" he wanted. It was really intentional. I thought that was an interesting way to look at body modification/tattoos because most people I knew who had tattoos always wanted more.

My problem is that I know my interests change--a lot. So if I were to get a tattoo (fixed) for an interest (mutable), I'd probably regret it in a major way sooner or later. I'm better off sticking with henna and waterproof eyeliner.

Although if I ever went on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem Old City, I'd get a tattoo from Razzouk Tattoo because that's 700+ years of history plus they seem to use a lot of of Saint George imagery who's kind of important to me because of the Margaret Hodges and Trina Schart Hyman book Saint George and the Dragon. But going to Jerusalem isn't high on my to-do list, despite Margery Kempe falling off her ass and onto her ass when she first came in sight of Jerusalem.

Except: I do want to go to Japan and I wouldn't be allowed into an onsen if I have tattoos, so that probably cancels these plans entirely.

dahlia: describe your ideal house / apartment I'm eating too much avocado toast to afford my dreams, but anyway...

sunset: do you consider yourself to be a lucky or unlucky person? Both.

Stephen King's Dark Tower series induces a special kind of brain rot. I don't consider myself to be in the fandom anymore, but you don't entirely get over it. I mean, in the fandom, you call yourself a Tower Junkie. I'm basically a recovering Tower Junkie. It's kind of always in you, even if you're in recovery. I bring this up because there's a concept that fits from the series.

So in the DT series, there's a concept called "ka mai." "Ka" is kind of like…fate? But more like changeable fate? Or like a tendency for certain things to happen in a certain way? It's not like "thou art doomed unto this fate!" It's not like Oedipus. It's more like "yeah, it's me, so that figures." It's complicated. But Uncle Steve was balls-to-the-wall on morphine for a lot of the last books, so…

Anyway, ka is like fate or a trend in events, but ka mai means something along the lines of "ka's fool." In other words, sometimes the trend in events in your life is like a sweet romantic lover. And sometimes it just fucks you over. And that's me. I'm ka mai.

I feel like when I have good luck, I have really, really good luck. And when I have bad luck, I have really, really bad luck. It's feast or famine. I had a long string of bad luck and job rejections and unexpected expenses and odd frustrations not too long ago. But suddenly I've been getting job interviews and more potential job openings and unexpected connections and certain things are panning out. And it's like, yeah, that figures. When it is good, it is very, very good. But when it is bad, it is horrid.

It's probably confirmation bias, but it sure seems true.

Either way, I like to remember a Cormac McCarthy quote from No Country for Old Men: "You never know what worse luck your bad luck has saved you from."

(Also shoutout to whoever it is in my area that actually has KA MAI for their license plate. I've only seen your car twice at most, but it felt like maybe that in and of itself was ka. Maybe.)

Summertime Asks!

#ask game #ask me things #anon is on

[scentedchildnacho]

He said there are a lot of hungry people and they try but not enough.......so I told him they are trying to diversify people's understanding of religion and make scarce times things ladies always ordered to her field workers and students

Some of the hungry I don't feel bad for they do drugs they know people here don't want and marry Africans and annoy people by using air and water regulated differently and you have to go to indians and ask them to re open reform policy it's hey man you believe in God's and forced marriage so go to your house and leave my air space alone

Anyway cuny Fatima I found a book of prayer and thai alliances in Florida with legalization because people use to be comfortable and enjoy fasting and now fasting always feels like a beating

If it's men that have used boarding house systems a long time I don't feel bad for them it's get into your boarding house and leave me alone with your mean demonized spoiled behaviours because it's demonized to do

They are given and given and given and they keep wanting to practice a mafia idea of very bad God so I feel it's go to your boundary then and leave me alone

People use to like I'm not going to use the rest room today and now its always a problem

Anyway saint Brigette did show us the letter so the Pope thinks it's about reforestation............but to reinvigorate the idea of the native school as a public land

Is having to use the Indian.......appropriation act and it's having to qualify language and origin so

But the tong VA conservation ideas appear pretty okay with deciding they could want to stay here though white became the favored ideology to The World and the ten thousand year history so

Acorn meal....this could get demeanor and if your going to oat me then I will acorn you and sue you for treating sprains like it's a skin injury instead of reflexology

And if your going to corn me then I'm going to Mexican fruit you for treating drug consumption like mentalism instead of diabetes

But forestation could turn into plantations which might be good for say Alabama and Texas....instead of the rainforest

The attempts to put German colonial corn in Texas was mean and weird

The industry machines appeared more like frietal terrorists it's way louder and more irritating so I feel they should then have to replant the area with a plantation canopy because it's brutality requires exotics

Texas isn't a moderate prairie marsh ecology and the German colonialism isn't nice and charming like Wisconsin

Denton Texas has this fiery radiant red sunset that is more powerful then all his white lights combined if there is natural law like Isaiah it's you cannot be more important then nature and God

Isaiah but people should enjoy escaping the wilderness to cultivation though....in the wilderness abundance of everything and cultivation should be human emancipation rights though

The German colonials brought us robotics so I'm not chained to ox and cart and the union soldiers took their families and each their own a small royal house manor

Chicago sociology George simmel Gregor Mendel .....these though we're not french papers these were Austrian....

And if you won't stop salmon ing me I will turtle all the lakes

Black elk speaks and I will start calling the elk camel and refuse to get my ass bounced on a horse when I could rock gently

The Native school....there are still china schools in Wisconsin near the casino so it would be having to look into the Greek complexes....and starting to re china them as Wisconsin still equitably divides public school so many whites so many Asians

Then there would have to be comparative antiquities in high schools which use to only be private to do

The Roman school of football baseball or basketball when more lines could have been drawn on the fields and courts

Fatima saik

Oriental the school now it's about the shadow of the West instead of white

Edward....how a disparate people become one

Edward said we will all be one people....these things under Korean policy were not separate my high school priorly was not separate

What does a white person look like.....I don't think she is laotian or Vietnamese I think she was white but went to that room for lunch

That's the folks it's allowing these new civilities to gather with white communities and that's how now arrives instead of history

My mother and her friends were very sunny dark exotic people but we called fair and different from asiatics?

At church they did explain that tattoo bar images are like their chosen ladies and they are like with the church and they didn't want generationally for them to be Catholic school girls so

The veterans allowed me cross dressing because they didn't want me to be too beat up or get stalked into the muslim world

They didn't want me to have to wear a burka to be modest

Uhm my lady if it's Wisconsin would not mark up her skin with tattoos but wels synod is not elca

They are more German populations affiliated with the church would drop too dramatically because congregants thought they had to be too good for people so

Because beguine the lady may show me to stop feeling too passive

Fish.....fishing I never fish....

I remember diving

Lobster in the Pacific......just go get that out of there

I guess people stole the kellogs company and have claimed we have to change to systems we weren't raised on........I don't know I think their a mean horney God and she has to learn tattoos or they do it

I notice their God to that type of reefer is a superior male God.....and they stalk homeless women because they know I take virginal vows and they want the appearance and clemency of first marriage and yet advertise themselves as very used people

Some of the men do stalk me and I tolerate it because their pedophiles and if it wasn't my innocence it would be a minor but they want to feel better then me and to orate their reefer message to me and I as a submissive already have dominant ideologies that leave me alone if ideology has become ranked

That's what's annoying and stupid about them they want to steal rights to rank ideology then they want to be around their submissives all the time when we have decided that this is about computers

I just hate smoked marijuana right now I just can't understand when it's now they have so much legality and will still smoke marijuana and I just hate hate that smell

[ritware1850]

Reposted from @mckeeculpepper Years ago while dissertating, I saw this portrait of this fine brotha while walking the esplinade at Juilliard in Manhattan. I was captivated and ran in the book store to see who he was. It's not often you see paintings of brothas looking like French aristocrats--- for obvious reasons. In buying the book, I learned his name is Chevalier de Saint Georges. Née Joseph Boulogne. After reading the book that graced his portrait, I went down the rabbit hole and the more I fell the more in awe I was of his prodigious talent. My husband and I ordered all of his recorded music through the University of Minnesota library exchange. There were many nights of us writing to the compositions of this amazing man and wondering aloud to each other how in the hell the world didn't know his name. What became soooo distrubing was as we came across more reading and uncovering his history, we found a name that is not his. He is not, and I repeat, NOT "Black Mozart". In fact there are multiple musical alliterations where some musicologists argue that Mozart borrowed from HIS compositions. YEAH. You see Mozart actually lived in the same housing as Joseph and was a younger impressionable composser at the time. Given Boulogne's status as an 18th century rock star, he, Mozart, swagga jacked Boulogne's music. Ummm yeah, you read that right. In fact, there are just whole passages of music in which Mozart "quotes" the Chevalier de Saint Georges almost verbatim. If you don't believe me check out these two pieces: 1. Boulogne violin concerto (Op. 7, No. 1) from 1777 Versus Mozart’s K. 364, WRITTEN THE FOLLOWING YEAR!!!! ( I am clearly yelling). SOOOO...BLACK Mozart my ass. How about White De Saint Georges? You see how messed up this is?!! Give the man his propers!!!!! AND 'Iainteeena start' (translation, I ain't even started) on the Chevalier's connection to Alexandre Dumas' Three Muskateers. Ummm yeah. Ya'll ain't ready.. BY the way the #Kilian store is on the street named after Boulogne in Paris. Chile...don't ask me how I know. #chevalier #chevalierdesaintgeorges #josephboulogne #blackhistory #know your history #paris #alexandredumas #Dumas #three https://www.instagram.com/p/Cm_upGzuUmG/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#kilian #chevalier #chevalierdesaintgeorges #josephboulogne #blackhistory #know #paris #alexandredumas #dumas #three

[doingthedirtydishes]

Jettisoned layover in Maine during Covid-19 crisis; Surviving scarcely on lobster rolls, whoopee pies and IPA.

I am grateful the universe guided my way to Maine for summer. There are a lot of locations for jetsam to wash ashore but Portland sure resulted in as serendipitous a coast as any to land. A reserved melancholic state filled with boundless Subarus and massive white pine forest, where I could spend my summer frolicking about in nature, or so I thought. As I soon discovered je ne sais quoi, it was a state of ‘Maniacs’ who know much less about survival in the bush and much more about fine cuisine and craft beers. I was in the right place; there are no mistakes in life.

More on Maine in a minute, but first an update on the wags from Queens, NYC: Bart and his pious compatriots in Pennsylvania (owners of the Hilton Garden Inn at JFK, NYC) provided round two of comedic relief after their abhorrent treatment of me at their hotel while stranded poor and homeless in NYC. As if their first response to asking me to leave their hotel, under a discriminatory (non-existent) 14 day stay policy, was not humorous enough, the second reply through their attorney wins the ‘almost Darwin’ medal of honor, a world-class pisser.

In my second week at the hotel from hell, while attempting to transfer from the toilet to my wheelchair, the grab-bar I was using for support broke off from the wall, leaving me to find support on a hard tile floor. Their lawyer, in his greatest vomit of jester twaddle, attempting to make me look bad, as vacuous his basis and unsound his argument, however sophomoric and ill-prepared his research and statement, replied to the NY State AG’s complaint by insinuating: 1. It was a made-up story; 2. It was revenge against their ‘raved about’ General Manager, Tracy Kass; and 3. I intentionally caused the grab-bar to break off from the wall. Bartholomew, please send me a package of what your Lancaster crew feeds you for breakfast – evidently reality changing.

It is hard to believe such saints still exist in this world but notwithstanding their holiness, I will address these delusional saboteur swines who treat loyal Hilton customers like trash then cower and hide behind a half-assed inept lawyer who I would not hire to defend my trespass dog. Allow me to pull back the curtain for you: 1. Your hotel clearly partakes in discriminatory practices – easily verified through other guests; and 2. I could have called an ambulance, sued and definitely walked with a settlement, akin to your ilk – but I did not, I chose the high road. To what end?!

None of your attorney’s baseless accusations are worthy a reply except only to rebut: 1. Permit me take away the function and operation of your legs and see how well you can stand up to pull a screwed-in bar, almost one meter above the floor, from the wall and 2. You first could start off by complying with Federal ADA and NY State bathroom building code(s) – your grab-bar was not mounted to wall studs. It was anchored into sheetrock, unable to handle load – sure to get you multiple city infractions upon [further] inspection; and assuredly, possible future litigation.  

Hilton Honors has still yet to sufficiently address the situation or provide an adequate reply. They recently reported earnings to Wall Street, Q2 77% revenue decline. As well, Hilton has had to close 1000 hotels and has experienced a 56% decline in room revenue resulting from Covid-19. And this is how you respond to true-blue customers – silence? What are you so busy doing that customer service has fallen off the radar?  One might think they would choose to treat their Diamond members a teensy-weensy better – but do not hold your breath. J.W. awaits my return.

As I mentioned in my first blog concerning being stuck in NYC under Covid-19 crisis, it did not take long in the car before my attitude and energy were on the rise. As my good friend Elena drove out of NYC, up Interstate 95 towards Maine, the excitement of visiting The Pine Tree State was palpable. We arrived into Portland later than expected. George at the Black Elephant Hostel was gracious enough to provide me an emergency number I could call to be let in. Safely ensconced by the cozy fire, cup of tea in hand, I was where I needed to be. Puff, puff, pass.  

For the next eight days my home was the Black Elephant Hostel, a boutique hostel with a bohemian savoir-faire, owned and operated by a saucy local entrepreneur and former New Jersey native, previously in the horse business, Heather. George kindly reserved me a room that was ADA compliant. The bathroom in the room was exceptionally spacious, a real treat to a traveler in a wheelchair. As well, the kitchen was drafted by architects with the injured in mind; designed pragmatic and utilitarian, sunlight abound, a great place to congregate for mid-afternoon tea.

Aside from a superb kitchen you will also find a delightful general room with comfortable chairs, a table and a layout couch for a relaxing fireside chat or read and an outside patio and lawn area for joining other guests for a smoke or drink or chat. Marijuana is legal in Maine – becoming fully legal for retail sale in October, 2020. The outdoor garden seating area is a great place to meet with friends over a joint and discussion of transcendentalism. Albeit a cheeky owner, the staff, most especially George and Isabelle, was super helpful and caring, always willing to assist.

My over-confident exuberance was quickly replaced with worry and anxiety as summer housing was not panning out as originally thought. Housing is at a minimum in Portland. Real estate well over priced, is in a bubble. A few places did become available but then quickly turned south as one informed me the roommate no longer wanted me as a roommate (only after informed about my injury) and the other did not want my wheelchair banging up his thirty thousand dollars in new upgrades to his double-wide trailer. Anyway, probably prudent I do not appear on Springer.

Was coming to Maine the right choice? Of late, with housing options once again slipping out of reach, and money a wee bit short, it appeared inexorably I had placed myself in a worse off situation than in NYC. In spite of all successive otherwise invincible obstacles, I remained overly brimming with bold perseverance and infinite hope. What would I do now? Where would I go, sleep? Staying in a hostel was surely not the answer. It was expensive; not a long term solution.  

After receiving some unsolicited compassionate help from a few friends, I was able to get a room at the local Hilton in order to reassess the situation and come up with a new plan. It soon became clear that I was in need of additional assistance; I had just become poor and homeless in Maine. It is similar to being poor and homeless in NYC but surrounded with more congenial people and prettier scenery. After five torturous days of having no-where to sleep I was ready to give up.

However, something deep inside told me it would be ok, that this unfortunate situation too shall pass. As if the universe was testing me to make sure I truly had given up control of the wheel of life. The lesson(s) must always be worked through and understood before one can advance past the incessant hurdles of life onto increased mental capacity and psychological resolve. As I state in my book, Unbreakable Mind: One first must pass through darkness before they can enter into the light; it is a journey, not something you can order up from the fast-food universe. There is no free ice cream in the world – all is well-earned, graced upon you – endowed by your higher-self.  

The Vedic astrology reading, a gift from Sunita, I had from Nepal in June was coming true: I was warned I would face four months of hardship, having to rely on others for my survival: Doing the Dirty Dishes of life – only to emerge into the shining light whence soon thereafter. So I was now in the thick of the fight, in the middle of battle. As it turned out I did not qualify for any general assistance in Maine. Apparently the $178 in my checking account was not broke enough. The YMCA manager was able to find me a room but sharing one bathroom with forty other men on one floor, with my injury’s requirements, and its high costs, would not have been feasible.

After two weeks of being bounced around Portland like a pachinko ball in a Tokyo parlor it was time to give in and stay at a hotel. Portland is not a cheap city for lodging – and already suffers from a housing shortage. The manager at the Hilton did not want me to leave to another Hilton branded property for an extended stay so he offered me an amazeballs daily rate [to stay at his location]. It ended up being cheaper to stay there per night than the local hostel. I gladly accepted the deal. Vernon, Tim, Gudrun, Stephanie, Les, Al, Seonye and all staff were absolutely first-rate.

Once settled in and feeling a bit of wanderlust, it was time to explore what Maine had to offer. The most northeastern U.S. State sated with stunning ocean and lakes, craggy rocky coastline, limitless verdant forest, winding mountains and rivers, marvelous lighthouses and ripe maritime history, it is an outdoor wonderland – loaded with supernatural beauty at every new rocky cove. Our day trip to Sebago Lake with Joe, our new friend from Park Slope, Brooklyn, whom we met in the local hostel, was a proper introduction to the outdoor allure and natural grandeur of Maine.

One day Elena decided to take me on a road trip, a magic trail replete with drinks, food and breathtaking panorama. We ventured north 160 km to Camden, famous for its high mountainous peek, scenic vistas and gorgeous views of the harbor and surrounding landscape. We had stopped on our way into town at a local oyster farm, and along with the healthy snacks, pita and hummus Elena packed, we had ourselves a smorgasbord atop the hill, whilst the sun set over the harbor. After some mouthwatering local seafood and delish beers in town, we were off back to Portland.

One weekend an old friend, Sunita, from Boston, visited with her daughter Hazel. It was a typical summer day in Maine, bright azure sky overflowing with cotton-ball clouds, awaiting outdoor exploration. We ventured to the Head Light Lighthouse, just across Casco Bay at Fort Williams Park. There was a local restaurant’s lobster roll stand just up the hill – wow. No doubt I agree that roadside stands serve the best rolls in Maine. On another day we visited Old Orchard Beach and all its tourist fanfare. On our way home we stopped at Bayley’s Seafood for their NE Clam Chowder and a shrimp roll; also stopping at Clambake Seafood Restaurant for locally fried Maine clams. The best “Clam Chowda” and tastiest fried clams I ever savored, respectively.

A new friend, Rita, from Brasil, the following weekend, invited me out for lobster rolls and oysters. We decided to spend the day at Pine Point, a breezy back-bay sand-grass filled marshy delight where delectable food and drink are served at any number of “famous” restaurants. We settled for the local empire of Bayley’s – this time visiting their Pound Shack, on the water. Social distancing in place, masks off, it was a splendid day of hoppy IPAs, freshly shucked oysters with briny liquor and spicy peel-n-eat shrimp. Next we plan to meet in Rio de Janeiro.

The list of out-of-this-world foodstuffs, pioneered by distinctive carpet-bagging restaurateurs with all the right ingredients to make your taste buds pop with excitement, is inexhaustible. The square pizza at Slab Sicilian Street Food is one of a kind, worthy of review. The Thirsty Pig has the most unique menu of house-made hot dogs [with toppings] and sausages, paired with local beers. After sampling lobster rolls at Red’s Eats in Camden, the lighthouse stand, High Roller, Bayley’s, and one upscale restaurant, Scales, the best was High Roller in downtown Portland.

The local bar scene is as bustling as the food scene, with many locations sharing both honors. The East Bayside district of Portland, with its old emptied-out capacious industrial warehouses and expansive lots, has been turned into an extensive neighborhood of eclectic flavorful micro-breweries. Kris and Marty AKA baby tiger (his 14 yr old Shiatsu) visited one Saturday from New Hampshire. We selected Austin Street Brewery – perfect for sitting outdoor with friends. We ended up pairing with Sarah and Gabe, on their second date, which were sitting at the table next to ours. Later we met Miguel at Rosie’s Restaurant and Pub, where food and drink is served late into the night. And in a town where most places close at 9pm, it is a refreshing godsend.

If ever there was a place to be stuck for the summer, Maine wins the award. Portland has quickly moved onto the top three list of my favorite small US cities for food and beer. A charming and enchanting town, filled with a mix of artistic and liberal personalities, a feeling of unrestricted freedom to expand inside & outside the self, packed with an endless number of satiated artisanal restaurants and drinking establishments, it is certainly a place to visit with an open stomach and heart – without fail, both will be better off after a short visit. They will thank you tremendously.

With Europe unquestionably now in the rearview mirror, as the world is mired in a continuing international health and economic crisis, it begets the million dollar question: where off to next?

Stay tuned!

CLICK HERE for PART I of Covid-19 story: Stranded in NYC, JFK.

Travel Blog: Click here.

Spiritual Blog: Click here.

Book: Unbreakable Mind. (Print, Kindle, Audio)

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Travel Blog links: Covid-19 stranded in NYC JFK and Maine – also travel stories on Ireland, Spain, Sweden,  Belgium, Iceland, Colombia (Espanol version), Amsterdam, Germany, New Hampshire, TN and NYC.

Personal Website link where you can also find my book, photos of my travels and updates on current projects.  

Thank you for your love and support.

#steven quigley writer #steven quigley blogger #steven quigley #unbreakable mind book #unbreakable mind #doing the dirty dishes spiritual #doing the dirty dishes #doing the dirty dishes travel #steven quigley author #steven quigley speaker

[rainfall-istrue-3130]

wip: new journalism style work

plot: a journalist investigates a city where people throw themselves off of buildings.

tw: expect substance abuse, death, violence, depersonalization and other things.

this may be chapter one or i may never finish it. who knows lmao

The Reason Why A City Falls

"It was a dark and stormy night" is what I would say if I was one of those pretentious pricks thinking their shitty manuscripts will make them the next George R. R. Martin. I sit in my chair, a Le Corbusier one acquired from some dead millionaire's estate a few years back (2008? 2009? I forget), under the haze of the sunset. So many people all going out, to their bars or restaurants or malls or whatever else you can think of. Strip clubs? Probably strip clubs. A glass of Louis XIII cognac at my desk (I'm not one of those cheap fucks with the bottom shelf shit) and an e-mail at my computer. Al's been starving for things to cover in a while, and I figured I'd give the two of us something to do in the meantime. Some guy named Derek told me about some city where rich fuckers were throwing themselves off of high-rises repeatedly.

Jesus fuck. I couldn't care less since it was rich people dying but it was a hell of a set-up.

I had to sift through the spam mail telling me about penis enlargement pills- if I even felt the slightest bit conscious about that, I'd have clicked on it faster than Al can snort a full line on a bad Saturday afternoon with a cam girl's stream somewhere in the living room -and bank account details being stolen- I don't have a bank account, too many people spying on my purchasing habits -before landing on this one. The email read as follows, and as I read it, I was convinced Derek was another one of the mindless robot army sent to infiltrate my home and tap on my phone signal:

Saint, I have a story for you.

People are dying in my city, and no one cares.

I live in a high-rise condo in a rich part of Macau. Every day, I wake up and get to work, and in the afternoons I head to the casinos. I usually head off at 2 or 3 in the ass-crack of the night.

Every time when I wake up, there's a new three or four or five dead bodies around my car. Rich types. Socialites on Instagram, or entrepreneurial folks who I've made business deals with two or three nights before. They always look like they've jumped off the building. I know that it sounds crazy, but I know that normally, you'd only get no or one crazy motherfucker who jumps off to escape their own goddamn nightmare.

I know I'm not the only one since my neighbor Carrie has also seen it happen. I've called the police, the media, no one seems to care. I feel like I'm having a collective psychotic break from reality. If this doesn't get solved quick, I might just follow them myself. Like lemmings off a cliff. I saw one of them and stared them in the eye as they fell.

Fucking HELP ME HERE.

Derek

This shit sounds too good to be true. Just outlandish enough that I'd call it bullshit, but then there's always the littlest crumb of what the charred corpse of truth is to make me doubt it.

When I woke up, I was at the boarding gate in LaGuardia with a $12 soda, a Whopper, and nasty withdrawal symptoms. Al told me that after waking up from a 5-hour nap, I took enough Xanax to knock out a train station full of managerial pieces of shit. Hated those people- I was one of them for a while until my coworker stabbed me in the back and got me fired. She's dead now, that poor bastard couldn't lay off the acid until it fried her brain. Didn't last much longer than that.

The wait for the plane was torture. Couldn't bring the ketamine tablets I ordered 6 months ago on the plane. Someone to the side of me told me to stop shaking my legs. He looked like a man who would come home to beat his wife and children before drinking himself to death like his family tree would. I got up and left, or at least tried to before stumbling and collapsing on the airport floor. Some lady came to assist. She looked like that one girl from all the Verizon ads. I told her I'd be fine and crawled to a chair. Al had been following me this entire time too. Good man, but he's got his vices. Husband of 5 years left him after something happened that he refuses to explain. Pretty sure it was ordering male hookers from some sketchy site and having his credit card info stolen. I haven't seen him smile once in my decade of working with him.

I got on the plane a few hours later. After having seen "Snakes On A Plane" at the request of my cousin Damien while baked off of all the marijuana in a six-mile radius at a dying AMC theatre in a bucket hat I purchased from some street vendor in Indonesia, I now see every single flight attendant as Julianna Marguiles. Either her, or Britney Spears. The plane was full somehow, maybe because of all the offers for jackpots and hot women serving you at the poker tables. Attracts the scum of the earth. I got the aisle seat next to some business lady who had no business being there, I could tell you that much. Visually, she recalled the looks of a post-rehab Lindsay Lohan if Lindsay Lohan relapsed and started smoking crack instead of heroin. I was heading to a pilgrimage of avarice and hedonism, and this ride to Macau would be the first step in turning me into a believer in the holy church of the roulette wheel. After this was over, would it be so unbelievable to tell you that half of these pieces of shit riding this plane with me would end up dead on the ground? Normally if I wanted to satisfy the addict within me, I'd either turn to the mountain of snow from a Colombian kingpin who I'm 67% sure is dead now, or take a 4-hour plane ride to Las Vegas, get lost in the lights and sounds, lose half a million at the blackjack tables, and wake up in a county jail in Reno with charges of disorderly conduct, driving while intoxicated, and vehicular manslaughter up to my chest. Fuck you, Travis, you passed this shit on to me when you had to leave.

Cathay Pacific is the best airline. It's the only one where I don't feel like I'm being sold the next few weeks ahead of me like Qatar Airways or Emirates do. Those airlines are drowning in advertising and fake luxury to try and upsell me on a trip to Riyadh or Abu Dhabi or Doha. Hate those places, never felt welcome among the pious Muslims and the "righteous" diplomats who I'm sure have a van of dead children to kick and cum into. Not me, I've been to a few of those parties, and it always ends with half of the country knowing your name as you're led into a labor camp in the name of Allah. And so deceptive about it too. I've never seen a place so committed to presenting itself as the technological nexus of the world while at the same time being so culturally backwards that the Middle East became a literal minefield. Half of the country is foreigners who don't give a fuck about morality and are in it for the money, the other half are residents who care enough about Islam they are willing to die for it. All under a regime that proclaims itself the next generation of leaders, when really it's planting a face of technological advancement on top of the same backwards bullshit over and over again. And everyone falls for it every time. Always. A modern-day parody of the hyperreality we live in now in the 21st century. If Baudrillard could see what the world's become, he'd be rolling in his grave faster than Al after overdosing on some new drug he found in a dingy alley behind a sketchy recording studio in Atlanta.

I would much rather stick to Hong Kong and China in general, at least here I have a few friends in the mafia. Deep cover, some of them, others are actual mobsters. I've seen enough guns to massacre a stadium of football fans on a given night during the World Cup, but I at least have people to make sure I'm not the one getting shot this time. Oh, and also the service is good, and the ride is smooth and comfy, but I don't give a fuck about that.

I'm in Hong Kong now. It'll be a few hours' taxi ride to get to Macau, and even from here I see the corpses of people who seem to have given up. Birds colliding with windows, it looks like, but replace the birds with people in tax brackets unfathomable to the average layman and windows with the concrete pavement. The city's hot at nights like this, and maybe this is the molly talking, but it's beautiful in a tragic- no, mysterious- no, haunting sort of way. For tonight, I'm willing to endure the cold sweats and hot flashes without Special K here to be my twisted muse.

Sleep doesn't come easy anymore. Not after the- when was it, 7? No, too long, 5? No, let’s go with 6 -incident six years ago. The bar was full of the kinds of meth addicts, domestic abusers and mob fixers that raise neck hairs, extend foreskins and draw sweat from pores. Any of these men and women had all the reason to see me as a headline in a local newspaper by some slimy tabloid whose articles and writers spit on the face and name of journalism, those disgusting pricks. Their stares dug into the back of my skull, their grips on their handshakes reminded me of vices in a mechanic's shop in Chihuahua, and their friendly voices reminded me of my editor Griffin, who would put on a similar tone of voice whenever he sent me a copy of my manuscript to publish in TMZ, sanitized of all that could be seen as "deplorable."

Maybe it's the residual gunshot wound in my abdomen that brought me to near death, or the cracked vertebrae in my chest, the kind that makes breathing a harder chore than cleaning the room of a rapist covered in semen and vomit, or the nightmares of that mascara-infested whore who thought I had slipped something in her drink before giving me glass shards of a Long Island Iced Tea, vomiting nightmarish wails and euphoric moans, before consuming a balding Bill Clinton in front of me as I wake up in a cold sweat, my erection slowly rising and my confidence slowly inching away from my mescaline-infused eyeballs as I come to the realization that I will never escape this hell I've made for myself, but I rarely go to bars like I used to. Those seedy establishments that charge 500% markup on middle of the road whisky and charge extra for a gin martini. The sad Italian testis in the glass surrounded by salt, as if to ward off a demon from entering my body, bathed in what can only be described as two peasant beverages that have been mixed with a toothpick, and I had already drank two before my contact arrived in Hong Kong, wearing what is generously called a "mob boss" outfit, his black and lilac fedora and black tie outlining his look. He had an air of uncertainty around him, as if even he didn't know whether what he was doing was strange or unusual. His mouth was firmly in a straight line, yet his eyes bore the look of terror. Sauntering over to me like a 50 year old father saunters over to his barely adult daughter after hearing about her getting arrested for drunk driving, he sat on the stool next to mine. As the scarred bartender continued cleaning the glasses that would inevitably be stained with grenadine, blood and lipstick the next day, this man Derek would tell me something I- if I ever had children after forgetting to perform a vasectomy on myself -would retell to them in 30 years.

#writing #spilled ink

[peakgenko]

Songs the Haikyuu boys would slow dance with you to...

CW; suggestive sexual themes

N/A, my heart nutted while writing this tbh

not proofread!!

© All content belongs to damnihateithere.

Kei Tsukishima

Dream A Little Dream of Me- The Mamas & The Papas

I don’t even know how i made this connection but i feel like tsukishima hums a lot of old songs and so this would be one of them

Or slow dancing in the dark by joji. it’s his favourite song. because of you.

Yuu Nishinoya

So Good At Being in Trouble- Unknown Mortal Orchestra

You’d rock back and fourth with him slowly while his lips press against the back of your hand— his eyes staring intently while he hums the lyrics

Shoyo Hinata

I’m Yours- Jason Mraz

So it’s not really something you can slow dance to but this is definitely his song for you. He sings this to you in the showers, during pillow talk, or drum the rhythm with his fingers against a Tupperware when he’s cooking something for you.

He’ll pull you in by the waist and nuzzle his head up against your back with a grin.

At this point it’s his favourite song because it always gets him in the mood. But that’s only because he thinks of you when he hums it.

Rintarō Suna

Versace On The Floor- Bruno Mars

OMG

okay so I imagine the two of you on some dance floor. Like at a club. I head canon that he’s good at dancing. Effortlessly too.

The music stops and and they choose a slow song to end the evening

You’re wearing a dress that cuts off mid thigh. And he’s in a little suit. His blazers loose and his collared shirt is buttoned down since it got a little heated in the midst of sweaty bodies practically grinding up against eachother

Underneath the red and purple spotlights, specks of iridescent lights from the disco ball hanging from the ceiling arrange themselves on your faces.

He’s singing the lyrics wholeheartedly with a fox like grin while his hands roam down to your ass. Although it’s intent was far from sexual.

Atsumu Miya

Corduroy Dreams- Rex Orange County

LOVE LOVES WHISTLING IT TO YOU

Definitely does kiss you in the shower for a couple hours.

He’s fresh out of the shower and he’s wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants. Drops of water race down to his feet as they roll down his bare chest. You have your towel wrapped around your chest

One hand laced with his, he leads you in a slowing pace around the room with a chirpy smile.

Osamu Miya

Blessed- Daniel Caeser

i’m not sure how i made this conclusion but i’m gonna go with it

He has the prettiest voice when he sings along.

It’s not really dancing though. He has your back facing his chest while his arms enveloped on top of your collar bones and shoulders. He’s pecking gentle kisses against your cheek while rocking back and fourth to the song while you two prepare breakfast.

Keishin Ukai

Fly Love- Jamie Foxx

I imagine you two on some sort of resort of beach. You two are soaked of water but this song just happens to pop up so you stand there in his arms while he teasingly blows a cloud of smoke into your face.

Keiji Akaashi

HENTAI BY CIGARETTES AFTER SEX!!!!

okay for those of you who don’t know that song i know by the title of the song it looks sus and trust me he was definitely skeptic of it as well but give it a listen because now you’re all he ever thinks about when he hears this song.

he swears he’ll dance to this with you in his arms on your wedding day.

if you’re feeling angsty, he’d definitely hold you close and dance with you to the swan by camille saint-saëns

Wakatoshi Ushijima

I Hear A Symphony- Cody Fry

He loves how classy it sounds and it perfectly describes how he feels about you. hell it may even be his favourite song.

He felt like volleyball was his only purpose and for a while he was more than okay with that. until he met you and now he strives for more in life. Hence the whole “I used to hear a simple song” verse. loves putting emphasis in his tone when singing “perfection is so quick to bore...you are my beautiful by far” (only to himself of course) homeboy gets a little embarrassed when it comes to singing.

Daichi Sawamura

Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby- Cigarettes After Sex

I don’t even need to have a scenario for this like he just radiates this energy:((

Like imagine his cheek pressed against yours while his hand weaves through your hair

Tadashi Yamaguchi

You say I’m in love- Banes World!!!!!!!!

Head empty just you and yams dancing to this song underneath LEDs and a ceiling projector

you’re all he thinks about when he sings this song

and bubblegum by clairo- he’d tell you not to focus on the lyrics but instead the instrumental portion. he says the comforting mellow beat reminds him of you.

Kenma Kozume

Nothing- Bruno Major.

Sings the lyrics to you

You’d think he’d be too shy and youre right but it’s because he does it subconsciously.

BRO THIS WOULD LITERALLY BE HIS SONG IN A RELATIONSHIP

Aran Ojiro

Ugotme- Omar Apollo

Such a good singer as well

When the two of you dance, you two dance.

His ability to dance is almost mesmerizing along with his singing.

Sings while covering your neck and collarbones with kisses

Satori Tendou

How Deep Is Your Love- Bee Gees

Also dramatically lip syncs the lyrics to you

Lifts you up into the air and into his arm almost five times mid dance.

He’ll shake his head with his lips pressed up against your neck while his hands trail upwards and toy with the hem of your shirt, his hands hungry with anticipation to just rip it off.

and you scold him when you feel his lips contort into a devilish grin.

Kotaro Bokuto

Hopelessly Devoted To You- Olivia Newton John

hear me out. He only knows this song because akaashi made him watch grease bc he says bokuto should be exposed to the “classics” and since watching it at age 12 with akaashi and bo’s two sisters, he’s prayed that one day he’d meet someone that’d make him feel the way that song did.

He does now and everytime that songs on he’s practically carrying you in his arms.

Tobio Kageyama

Love Me Please- OCTAVIO

this is the only song he knows with the exception of old kanye west because he considers his music grind music but you definitely put him on this song.

He’s literally a psychopath who doesn’t listen to anything EXCEPT like popular rap songs from 2017-2018. And even then he’ll only tolerate it when he needs to work out.

And then he meets you. Now he listens to music in a different aspect.

He knows he’s not the most romantic guy out there but he’s trying his best and you tell him that’s more than enough. He loves you so much.

Koushi Sugawara

This Side of Paradise- Coyote Theory

he’s dragging you out of the house to dance with you to this song. bonus points if it’s raining

he’s also the type to scream-sing to love songs.

There aren’t any cars in the vicinity due to the pouring rain so the two of you make your way to the road.

Your hand in his, he twirls you underneath the storm and into his arms.

Toru Oikawa

Pretty Boy- The Neighborhood

He’ll put so much emphasis in his tone on the “Even if the earth starts shaking, you’re the only thing worth taking- with me. Even if the sky’s on fire, got you here it’s alright.” verse

You’re literally everything to him

he won’t let you go even for a second until this song is finished even then he’ll have trouble parting.

Hajime Iwaizumi

Baby I’m Yours- Arctic Monkeys cover

It’s not even dancing at this point, it’s just you two cuddling and him pretending like he hates it even though he’s the one who refuses to let go of you.

Ryonusuke Tanaka

Knockin’ Da Boots- H-town

if he’s not dancing to this with you in his arms he’s definitely ironically grinding on the floor to this with a fuck boy face.

Hitoka Yachi

two queens in a king sized bed- girl in red

I just imagine the most “call me by your name” scenery type shit.

Or maybe like a field of flowers? You just have her in your arms on some sort of picnic date she planned for the two of you

Semi Eita-

I Wanna Be Yours- Arctic Monkeys

your arms wrap around his neck and his lips press onto yours while the two of you sway back and fourth underneath red led lights.

don’t be surprised if things get sexual.

Tetsuro Kuroo

Careless Whisper- George Michael

okay first he played this song when you were over once and he had it on so that he could initiate a little make out sess with you but when you could tell how nervous he was on making a move on you you told him that there was no pressure on anything and he sort of just danced with you instead. he ended up unironically really liking this song because of that.

(bonus: if it’s fanon kuroo he likes to dance to sway by Michael Bublé with you and the whole time he’s just eyeing you down with a sly grin)

Kiyoomi Sakusa

Beach Baby- Bon Iver

Space Song- Beach House

I imagine it’s raining horribly outside to the point where the thunder outside is retro boomin

but the windows are open because both you and Sakusa love the sound of rain pouring

he has this song playing from his record player while he hums against your neck.

#haikyuu!! #haikyu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu oneshot #tsukishima x reader #nishinoya x reader #sugawara x reader #atsumu x reader #hinata x reader #suna rintarō x reader #suna x reader #osamu x reader #ukai x reader #akaashi x reader #ushijima x reader #daichi x reader #kageyama x reader #yamaguchi x reader #haikyuu kenma #kenma x reader #aran x reader #tendou x reader #bokuto x reader #oikawa x reader #iwaizumi x reader #tanaka x reader #yachi x reader #semi x reader #kuroo x reader #sakusa x reader

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

After reading your opinion on Molly Weasley, i want to know: What are you're opinions on the Weasley family? Besides Ron & Molly that is.

Five characters? In one post? Well, alright, here we go.

The Weasleys as a Whole

I’ve mentioned this before but JKR writes the Weasleys to clearly be a believable but ideal family. They’re all fiercely loyal, progressive per wizarding world standards, love each other and Harry deeply, and have this wonderful off-kilter joyous house where there’s always some rambunctious thing going on. 

Harry comes to associate the Weasleys with family and, personally, I believe a large part of him marrying Ginny boils down to it will make him a Weasley for real. 

That said, they’ve got some major issues. They’re very righteous people who, as a whole, will ice you out the moment they even suspect you do something that disagrees with them. You don’t even have to do it, what you did or didn’t do doesn’t even have to be something terrible or something bad, but god help you if the family decides they’re done with you. 

They’re very resentful of people like the Malfoys. This isn’t just because Lucius is a smarmy, pompous, ass (he is) or that he indirectly almost murdered Ginny but seems to mostly be because Lucius has so much money. All of their interactions seem to boil down to the money. More than this though, the Weasleys seem fully supportive of laws that... well, used against themselves would be a travesty but used against the likes of the Malfoys it’s about damn time.

They’re unquestioningly loyal to Dumbledore. Granted, most people we see in canon are, Dumbledore’s very very very good at convincing people he’s a saint. However, these guys are practically his cult member to the point where they do things like refuse to have Harry over the summer, even before Voldemort returned, because Dumbledore told them not to. 

They also never really adopt Harry into the family. Oh they give him a nice sweater, he comes over every once in a while to the house, he’s very good friends with Ron but he’s mostly treated just like that, a good friend. Now, there’s nothing wrong with this, except the way JKR sets it up we’re supposed to believe this is the family Harry found. It’s just that the family Harry’s found let’s him stay in a house with bars on his window where twelve-year-old Ron tells them, “Harry’s muggle family is really really awful” in a way that should have been raising red flags. Hermione practically lives at the Weasleys, Harry never does.

Now, are the Weasleys evil? No, far from it, they’re ordinary people who act in ways I’d expect ordinary people too. Technically they didn’t have to do anything more for Harry than they did, they didn’t have to hate Lucius Malfoy for better reasons, and they don’t have to be even slightly less worshipful of Dumbledore. They’re people, and they’re fine characters, but the overwhelming worship and love of the Weasleys we see across fandom does get on my nerves.

But you asked for individuals, so here we go.

 Arthur Weasley

Arthur is the epitome of “Pretty Fly for a White Guy” in the worst of ways and is, frankly, a giant awful joke to me. He’s the white kid you see going around with dread locks, a beanie the color of the Jamaican flag, smoking weed, and attempting to speak like Bob Marley 

Only, because he does it with muggle things, we’re supposed to find him funny and progressive.

Arthur is absolutely, albeit unwittingly, condescending in his love of muggle knickknacks. He has no idea how any of it actually works, not limited to how muggles could possible survive without the gold standard, but ardently believes he does because he can enchant the car to fly. Seriously, that he believes he’s an expert on muggle culture, as a pureblood wizard who heads an office in the ministry on it, is the worst part. His love of toasters comes across as, “Wow, look how cool it is that these poor little muggles made all this neat stuff. We should absolutely love the muggles because of it!” And that he heads an office in the ministry called “The Misuse of Muggle Artifacts” which is all about catching down Jackass style pranksters who think it would be hilarious of they enchanted toasters to bludgeon muggles to death...

Goddammit Arthur, why do you exist?

Right, otherwise, he’s got some pride issues going on. Part of the reason Percy is excommunicated is not so much that Percy doesn’t believe Harry, but because Percy dared to do better than Arthur in his own career. Arthur is stuck in his position as head of a joke of a department, he is an underling at its finest, and frankly likely only has that position because he’s a pureblood and the idea of putting a halfblood or even muggleborn at the head of a department dealing with muggles just made the higher ups shudder. (Don’t tell Arthur that though, he likes to think he’s not benefitting from nepotism). 

Arthur goes so far to accuse Percy as Fudge’s secretary as spying on him. Arthur, the guy who heads “Misuse of Muggle Artifacts”. Yeah, Arthur, I’m sure Fudge is really wasting his time using his straight laced secretary to find out all your dirty secrets. 

He also tends to see the world as very black and white. When Skeeter in book 4 writes an article after the Quidditch World Cup disaster complaining about the ministry’s lax security in enabling domestic terrorists to enter (something completely valid and true by the way) Arthur is so personally offended that both he and Percy go straight to the ministry to complain about Rita Skeeter and her daring to assume freedom of speech! HOW DARE SHE CALL THE MINISTRY’S NON-EXISTENT SECURITY AT THE WORLD CUP LAX! (To be fair, she also cited Arthur as having been in attendance at the event, a ministry employee, and having done nothing but, well, this is also true Arthur. You’re in a guerilla, underground, resistance movement. If I didn’t already think the Order was a joke this would kind of highlight it for me).

He’s also very resentful of Lucius Malfoy, and it seems to mostly be about the money. Arthur and Molly have a severe spending problem and actively resent that Lucius is swimming in money. That Arthur is ardently pleased about a law being passed in which the ministry without warrant can ransack Lucius Malfoy’s home... 

Well, Arthur, imagine the slippery slope if the government decides that it would like to search the Weasley home without warrant? In fact, he doesn’t even have to imagine it, as the beloved government in a few short years turns against him and then it’s all about how corrupt the ministry is. 

Arthur’s delightfully narrowminded, basically, and reminds us at nearly every opportunity.

Percy Weasley

Mostly, I just feel bad for Percy. Percy’s the son/brother that nobody likes and he’s painfully aware of that fact. He doesn’t fit in with the others, he has far too much ambition for the Gryffindor family and they resent him for it, and then he dares to say things like “I don’t know guys, Voldemort resurrecting from the dead after decades doesn’t sound plausible, we know Harry’s a little off kilter, and Dumbledore’s one shady dude”. Percy happens to be wrong about Voldemort resurrecting (and admits as much when the evidence is plainly visible), but he’s pretty on the money with the rest of it.

Regardless, growing up we see Ron constantly hating on Percy along with the rest of the siblings. I’m sure Percy is obnoxious, and certainly full of himself after making prefect and head boy, but he’s very clearly even before Order of the Phoenix the Least Favorite Brother (TM).

Then the Weasley family completely ices him out for a) getting a very high ranking position very quickly as Fudge’s secretary and b) not being gung ho about Dumbledore saying crazy things in the paper. Remember that to Percy Harry is Ron’s weird friend who seems to get into highly illegal activities every other week. From Percy’s point of view, it’s probably a matter of time before Harry becomes a crack head in Knockturn Alley (or given how behind the times wizards tend to be, an opium den). 

He’s constantly getting Ron into not only trouble but life threatening situations, is erratic and apparently a parseltongue of all things, and now Harry’s flipped his lid and saying that Voldemort has been resurrected after having gone through a very traumatic experience of watching a classmate somehow die. 

While we see Percy kind of (sort of)  make up with the family it’s clear that for Percy to have any relation with these people he’s the one who will always, ALWAYS, have to come crawling back on his knees and begging for forgiveness. It’s the Weasley way or the highway and I imagine, at some point probably a little after/during that epilogue, Percy will just slowly drift away because it’s just not worth it anymore.

Percy’s very much the black sheep of the family.

Fred and George Weasley

You all are going to kill me, but I actually don’t care in the slightest about Fred and George Weasley. This is because they basically have no personality aside from “funny”. 

They just have their weird, tandem, twin act and are either playing jokes on the school or else serving as Deus ex Machina in giving Harry magical items such as the Marauder’s Map for no apparent reason. The plot told them it was time, I guess. 

Their jokes, while not as bad as Sirius and James’ “Let’s sexually harrass Severus Snape by pantsing and beating him at the edge of Hogwarts lake” or Sirius’ “Let’s get Snape eaten by a werewolf!” are still often needlessly cruel and... kind of pointless. They harass Slytherin house constantly just because they happen to be Slytherins, they’re acceptable victims (which of course makes house tension that much worse). Harry gets sent a toilet seat in the hospital because... that’s funny? Har de har? 

They’re so indistinguishable from one another I routinely see people mistake which one got his ear chopped off and which one died. Because the point is, that we can’t tell the difference! It doesn’t matter who lived and who died because all we know is that Freorge is dead! 

Similarly, you see tons of fics around where character of the day ends up in this weird twincestuous relationship with Fred and George and it’s not only for a) that delightful twincest but b) because they’re such a singular unit that any attempt to pair one with somebody else feels weird. So you just get these porn fics about Fred and George being weird rapey teenagers who seem like they’d be more interested dating each other. 

Charlie Weasley

I really have no thoughts on Charlie. He raises dragons in Romania, the family loves him. Now, dragon raising feels like one of the most dangerous jobs in the Harry Potter universe, like Charlie had just gone and signed up to be a lumberjack but he seems to like it?

We really don’t see much of Charlie, he’s just the obligatory older Weasley son so that the Weasleys can be this ridiculously large family.

Bill Weasley

We see slightly more of Bill, but again, not enough to really leave an impression. We know that his marrying Fleur sent Molly into a complete state, and that they’re going to have awkward Christmas dinners forever because of it where Fleur just sits there and pretends not to loathe every second of Molly’s presence while Molly notes how bad it is that Victoire got stuck with that ugly pink hair instead of the Weasley red. 

Bill doesn’t seem to really do anything about this. He still marries Fleur, but we don’t really see a major confrontation where he tells the family “Look, I’m marrying her, so grow up.” So, I imagine he just tries to smile pleasantly and tells Fleur to just endure it for another few hours. He loves his family, his family’s great, but they only have to see Fleur once a year at Christmas.

Ginny Weasley

Ginny is weird. She’s this weird, frankly, almost personality-less void whose sole obsession in life seems to be marrying Harry. She and Harry end up in the world’s weirdest relationship and I honestly have no idea how people ship it other than canon told them to.

Ginny’s... well, first off, she’s very much in love with an idea. She had always worshipped Harry Potter but then he personally saves her life in what was a horrifically traumatic year and so that feeling just grows even more. Despite being Ron’s sister, she barely seems to know Harry, and everything she seems to like about it are just things she made up.

I imagine her and Harry’s marriage will be littered with affairs on her end. Not divorce though, because Harry would never admit his wife is having affairs on him all the time even if someone directly confronted him. Harry also won’t admit he’s gay. 

More than though we get hints of a personality. Ginny’s a fiery red-head tomboy with a temper. But... Well, it’s only ever hints. She never felt like a real person to me. She has I think one throwaway line about the Chamber of Secrets incident and how it personally affected her. We’re told she’s great at the bat boogey hex so we know she’s a fiery independent woman.

She feels more like a character sheet than an actual person. 

Whenever she’s around I always had this nagging question in my head where I ask why Ginny’s here. She has a lot of potential but nothing’s ever done with her. And when something is, it’s to get her into this bizarre relationship with Harry where he imagines there’s a green rage monster in his chest that loves her skin.

Okay Harry, if you say so. 

TL;DR: The Weasleys aren’t evil or anything, I’m not on Team Bash Them All, but they are shortsighted, ordinary, people who don’t deserve to be worshipped as all that is good in this world.

#ask #anon #harry potter #headcanons #the weasley family #arthur weasley #charlie weasley #bill weasley #fred weasley #george weasley #ginny weasley #anti hinny #anti weasley #anti arthur weasley #anti fred weasley #anti george weasley #anti bill weasley #anti molly weasley #anti harry potter #anti ginny weasley