#no but hear me out this side of the holiday is perfect for Omen

[harper-penn-happens]

Omen thought hiding eggs and fake bunnies was kind of an odd holiday tradition... then he found out they were all made of chocolate. BEST DAY EVER!!

Hope everyone who sees this is having a great weekend, whether you celebrate or not. ❤🐰❤

Omen belongs to @shokujin-shot and @whenthenightcomesgame, thanks for sharing such a cutie with the world!

#wtnc game #omen morningstar #wtnc #wtnc fanart #harperpennhappens #no but hear me out this side of the holiday is perfect for Omen #because chocolate plus getting to run around and be the curious bean that he is! #shokujin-shot #chibi art #chibi #Easter

[justkeeptrekkin]

Slow dancing as Good Omens fic prompt? I think slow dancing can be really intimate because of the proximity, the looks, the music...

bless you, anon. 

***

Aziraphale had never really felt lonely before. 

It may come as a surprise to many, but, truly, Aziraphale had never felt lonely. He is an angel who appreciates having time to himself. He is an angel who has chosen to roam Earth on an extended solo holiday for roughly six thousand years, Eat Pray Love style. He is an angel who has set up wards all around his bookshop so every customer is miraculously coerced into leaving the shop after ten minutes of perusing. Up in Heaven, Aziraphale is famous for being a soft, squishy introvert- baffling all the angels, archangels, cherubs and occasional saint. 

Being alone is nice. 

Being alone isn’t the same as being lonely. 

Now, Aziraphale does feel lonely. He stands in the centre of his empty bookshop. A bookshop filled with inanimate, dusty things, but no one there other than him. All these books that he’s always valued so highly, loved so dearly- he still does- but somehow, now, they’re all disappointing to him. The shop feels desolate. The dust particles dancing in the air no longer appear beautifully ethereal, only melancholic; the light pouring through the windowed dome up above feels pale and watery; the silence funerary. 

Aziraphale rests a hand on a copy of Milton’s Paradise Lost, and thinks of what he might be missing. 

A loud voice in his head tells him that he shouldn’t be thinking- why is he even trying to think about this? The answer is right there, sitting inside him and squirming happily, nervously, miserably. He knows what’s missing, what’s always been missing, yet what’s been there this whole time. Waiting for him. Staring at the chessboard expectantly for him to make his move. Handing over briefcases of books and offering lifts home. And it’s only really since the flop that was the apocalypse last week that he’s seen it for what it is. A perfect clarity, a glorious surety that Aziraphale has never, ever experienced till now- about anything.

It doesn’t come to him in a thought. The decision isn’t made through any logical thought process like: I know what to do. No, it comes to him in a surge, too sudden and overwhelming to hold back or consider for too long. Too sudden for his usual cowardice. 

Aziraphale’s feet take him to the phone. He runs his fingers through the numbers, turning the dial, and waits. 

He waits only three seconds.

“Alright, Angel.”

And it’s like that surge disappears as quickly as it came- a burst of air lifting a leaf off the ground, only to let it fall, fluttering to the cold, damp ground of reality. Aziraphale swallows. Feels the moment catch up with him with horrifying speed.

What is he meant to say now?

“H-hello, Crowley,” he says through a forced smile, though Crowley’s not there to see it. “I was. Well, I was just wondering.”

There’s a pause. A long one. Aziraphale’s mouth clamps shut. Now is not the time to falter, he thinks to himself. 

“Must be a big thing.” 

“Sorry?” he breathes, broken from his reverie.

“Big thing. That you’re wondering about. If you’re calling me and breathing down the phone. I can practically feel the anxiety creeping through the wires.”

His mouth opens and closes. Then opens again. And he croaks, “Yes. Um, what I wanted to say was. Was this.” He hesitates, but only for a beat too long. He scrunches his eyes closed. Scrunches them so tightly he can see stars. “Music.”

“Music?” Crowley repeats immediately, dumbfounded.

“Yes.”

“Music.”

“Yes,” he replies, sounding irritated. He’s irritated at himself more than Crowley. He’s rolling his eyes to himself for being so absurdly flappable. He is always the first to be flapped by the silliest things. 

“Right.” A pause. “You. So. Yeah, you’ve got to help me out here, Angel.” 

“What I mean to say- very, very badly, really,” he says, wincing again, “is whether you’d like to come round to the shop. Help me sort through my mess of a record collection that you’ve been nagging me about since 1964.”

Another pause. Then, “Oh.” Pause. Aziraphale’s perfect posture stiffens impossibly further. Ankles together, foot tapping. “Yeah. Well, what’s all the fuss about then? You sound stressed. Like a… a stressed person. Not a person asking someone round for a drink and some music.” Pause. “There will be drink, won’t there?”

It’s impossible that he finds himself smiling and relaxing, given how far up his throat his heart is currently climbing. And yet. “Oh yes. Don’t you worry, my dear, there will always be drink pouring.”

“Alright. Well, yes. Obviously yes. Even if you’re being weird. You are aware that you’re being weird, aren’t you?”

“Painfully aware, yes,” Aziraphale answers truthfully. Then, quickly, “Shall I uncork the Montepulciano and let it breathe?”

***

They’re on their knees by a teetering stack of vinyl records. The bottle of Montepulciano is finished and there’s another uncorked on the desk beside them. There’s the smell of grapes and dust, a combination that’s become a smell of home to Aziraphale. Made all the more familiar and comforting by Crowley being here, by his side, tearing his beautiful red hair out in annoyance. 

“This one isn’t even in a sleeve,” Crowley announces, aghast. He waves the vinyl in Aziraphale’s face, yellow eyes wide. “When are you going to look after the rest of your things the same way you look after books?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he replies casually, knowing that’ll just infuriate Crowley further. 

It does- he growls desperately, creating a new neat pile of vinyls without sleeves, next to the piano music pile, to the right of the 1500-1600s classical pile. Aziraphale smiles sweetly at him, and Crowley points an accusatory finger, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. 

“You,” he starts. “You need to get some shelves. Otherwise. Otherwise, I’ll come round here every day to check that you’re putting them somewhere safe.”

I wouldn’t stop you, Aziraphale thinks. I invited you here because you fill up my life. He says, “I don’t have room for shelves.”

Crowley’s mouth hangs open. He casts his gaze about the shop, gestures to the room. “It’s a bookshop! Tonnes of shelves! What’s one more pissing shelf going to do? Tear the fabric of the universe? ‘Sides,” he slurs, one class of red too many perhaps, “you could just extend the shop a smidge or two. Miracle it a cheeky inch or two bigger. Encroach on the neighbours’ space, sure they won’t notice.”

“Perhaps.” He thinks about this as Crowley blows the dust off a vinyl record of Mendelssohn. “Although I reckon they would. Humans can be horribly observant.”

Crowley hums knowingly. “Oh, yeah. When they want to be. When they don’t, they’ll turn a blind eye to anything.”

Aziraphale watches Crowley for a second longer. Tears his gaze away and looks down at the Glenn Miller record in his hands. He feels the dog-eared edges, soft cardboard between his fingers. He peers down at the smiling, black and white image of Miller and he’s taken immediately back to 1941. The Blitz, the smell of ash and smoke and the smallest, most precious moment of fingers touching. A feeling of pure adoration that’s never left him- that’s been there since the beginning, waiting. Triggered by one moment. 

And just like before when his feet took him to the phone, Aziraphale’s body is taken by a surge of surety, bravery, knowledge of what he wants- damned if it’s right or wrong. (How freeing it is, to no longer have Heaven watching.) He removes the record from its sleeve and with his free hand, lifts the pin of the gramophone. Crowley stills where he’s knelt by Aziraphale’s feet, and they both listen to the crackle of dust being picked up by the pin. 

Aziraphale stands by the gramophone and closes his eyes. Moonlight Serenade begins to play and he takes a deep, grounding breath. 

“You remember that day,” he says, neither explaining nor opening his eyes to look down at Crowley. 

His response is quiet, and almost immediate. “Yes.” 

Aziraphale smiles. “I believe I owe you a dance.”

“You-”

“Don’t think of it as a ‘thank you’,” he continues. “I know you don’t like those. Perhaps just a dance?”

When he finally opens his eyes, it’s only after another deep breath- the nerves have made him forget how to breathe any other way. The shop is getting dark. The light is grey, there’s the quiet sound of rain hissing against the windows, and the song continues to play. And through the haze of dust and stacks of records he sees Crowley, kneeling at his feet, looking up at him with a look as if he doesn’t trust what he’s hearing. 

Aziraphale therefore adjusts the look on his own face, betraying his nervousness, and smiles. It comes more easily than he thought it would. 

He extends a hand. 

Crowley looks at the hand. Lips parting and mouthing something silently, uncertainly. Then he croaks, “The 40s was a wonderful time for music, if nothing else.”

And he feels Crowley’s hand slip into his. It doesn’t send a jolt of anxiety or excitement, it doesn’t set off fireworks or give him butterflies like he imagined it would. It feels perfectly natural. 

As Crowley stands up to his full height and looks at Aziraphale, he doesn’t let go of his hand. 

The music sounds distant. Each passing moment feels very real. Crowley has frozen. Aziraphale knows all too well how paralysing this uncertainty is- and so he takes Crowley’s other hand and guides it to his waist. He sees Crowley’s eyes flutter and widen, hears his throat click as he swallows, feels his fingers grip harder on Azirphale’s hand. 

“I think,” Aziraphale supplies once he’s shown Crowley’s where to put his hand, an abbreviated version of: I think that’s where your hand should go, although I’ve never done this before since I’ve only ever really wanted to do something like this with you, and I’m only just brave enough to do it now, and I hope I’m not misreading things and wrongly assuming you want this too. 

Crowley nods. He nods and nods and nods compulsively, swallows again and fumbles for words. Hand warm in Aziraphale’s, warm on his waist. “Yeah,” Crowley manages. “Yeah. I’d say this is- seems about right.”

And Aziraphale rests his hand carefully- so carefully- on Crowley’s shoulder. He leaves it there and neither of them move. They stare at each other in disbelief that this is happening. They stare in disbelief that it took this long. They stare at each other, waiting for the other to start dancing, to explain what comes next, anything. Crowley’s eyes wide and his brows pinched, lips parted.

“Aziraphale?” he asks weakly.

And then it feels easy, heartbreakingly easy. Easy to smile, easy to be the brave one for once, to let Crowley be vulnerable. Easy to let the thousands of years pour through him and between them, between joined hands. 

“Come here, my dear.”

Aziraphale steps closer. Fingers gripping tighter, frightened of what might happen if the other lets go. Would this moment disappear, as if it never happened at all? 

Aziraphale tilts his head towards the ground and looks up at Crowley through his lashes. A gesture that is shy and self-conscious and happy. And Crowley huffs- a laugh, perhaps, or a sigh, he isn’t sure. He feels his breathe blossom against his skin. 

He closes his eyes. He feels it all. He absorbs all the time spent together, all the time lost. The music brings them absent-mindedly swaying from side to side, and Aziraphale rests his cheek against Crowley’s. He’s warm. When he cracks his eyes open he’s welcomed by an auburn blur. The hand on his waist finds his back, and there’s the rush of a sigh beside Aziraphale’s ear. Then, a forehead against Aziraphale’s shoulder. 

The song ends, the gramophone crackling to a stop. They dance in each other’s arms for a little longer, in a shop no longer empty. 

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #my writing #fic prompt #fanfic

[allegra-writes]

Happy birthday, Peter

Peter Parker x Reader

General audiences

Warnings: None

Ok, this isn't a request but today is August the tenth, MCU Peter Parker's canon birthday, so let's have a little birthday Fluff to celebrate! 💜

MY MASTERLIST

“Tony, Fury's here about that new guy he wants you to meet for the new team, Quentin Beck” Pepper's voice interrupted Tony’s obvious staring.

“No-uh, forget it, not happening. I just got out of the hospital a couple weeks ago, after I almost died saving the world from that giant purple raisin. Again. Now this? This is a party. Peter’s party, I refuse to work today” Tony was not having any of that tonight of all nights. He had five years worth of birthdays and holidays to catch up on with his kids, kids he thought he wouldn’t have the opportunity to ever hug or talk or plan parties for, he might add. So Fury could get lost for all he cared.

Besides, he had his own ideas for his super secret boy band 2.0, and he was looking straight at them.

“Now, Miss Potts, if you would be so kind as to come right here and tell me what you think about this” He stepped closer to his wife and gestured at the group of teenagers laughing and chatting on the other side of the room. If he was honest with himself, he had been so nervous about the four of them meeting: What if they didn’t like each other? That would not make his plans impossible but it would certainly put a damper on them. The truth was he should have been nervous about you guys getting along a little too well …

Pepper took a look and immediately paled.

“Oh no, no no no! Tony, no!”

Unbeknownst of the argument ensuing about you, Harley Keener, Cassie Lang, Peter Parker and you continued to laugh at Ned Leeds retelling of the time Spider-Man stole his “arch nemesis”, Flash Thompson's car.

“… Of course now Mister Stark gave you a car of your own, I guess Spider-Man won’t need to ask Flash for his car again”

Peter shook his head,

“I still say I can’t accept it, I’m sorry, y/n, it’s just too much”

“What are you talking about? It’s not even a new car, Happy’s been driving it for years” You said, “Besides, I’m going to need someone to drive me around, you know I hate to do it myself…”

“Is that your way of saying you failed your driving test again?” Harley quipped, casually resting his arm around Cassie’s shoulders. The look the petit brunette gave him had him quickly remove it, however.

“Shut up Keener!” You huffed, “Who needs to drive when you can fly, anyway”

“What else did you get, Peter?” Cassie asked, genuinely interested.

“You mean besides the car and the scholarship?”

“Ooh, my present! You haven’t opened my present yet!” you exclaimed excitedly, placing a closed envelope on Peter’s hands.

“Y/n, you really shouldn’t…” He tried to protest.

“Come on, just open it!”

“Open it! Open it! Open it!” Cassie, Ned and Harley started chanting. Peter tore the paper apart to revel the single, golden ticket inside that simply read in big black letters “Valid for one birthday wish”

“It’ a…”

“It’s a birthday wish coupon” You explained, “Limited time offer, for tonight only. Whatever you want, no consequences, no questions asked. Anything money can buy, and then some. Want to steal a plane and fly to Europe, Have a body you need to hide? I’m your man… well, girl, but you know what I-“

“YOU WANT OUR KIDS TO WHAT?” Scott Lang's voice Echoed through the lake house living room, where the intimate party was taking place, interrupting you.

“I know it seems insane, but so did time travel…” Your dad was trying to explain, with apparently little success, if Scott’s face increasingly redder color was anything to go by. The vein visible on his neck wasn’t looking like a good omen either.

“Think we should go break them apart?” Cassie asked calmly, with the same air of infinite patience laced with resignation that you usually wore around your father yourself.

“Lets go before they break something” You sighed and followed her to the other side of the room, without noticing you were leaving a stunned Peter behind.

“You know what you should use that coupon for, right?” Harley’s voice broke through his daze.

“Whu- what?”

Harley rolled his eyes.

“Come on, dude! No consequences? No questions asked? You should ask her for a kiss!”

“What? No! We’re not… I’m not- we are not like that!”

Harley and Ned exchanged a look.

“I never thought I would agree with this guy, but Harley’s right. Peter, this is your chance!”

“Peter, look” The blond grabbed Peter’s shoulders, “She said it herself, no consequences, she promised. So even if she’s not into you like that, and trust me, she is, you know she’ll still be your friend.”

“Come on, dude, you were thinking the exact same thing! Besides,” Ned finished, “I’m your guy in the chair, I wouldn’t tell you to do it if it was a bad idea”

Peter could feel his cheeks burning with embarrassment, and his eyes with unshed tears of frustration.

“You guys have no idea what you are talking about” He mumbled bitterly, and left.

He just needed to get away, he just needed some air to help him get himself under control again. His friends meant well, he knew it wasn’t their fault. He was the one that never told them, after all. That you guys had already kissed once, right under the illuminated Eiffel tower, the night of the airport fight, a lifetime ago, or at least that’s what it felt like.

And it had been so. Fucking. Perfect. He could still almost taste you on his lips. He had obsessed over that kiss. He had lost sleep, and hunger over that kiss. For weeks. But as soon as you guys had return to New York, it was radio silence. For almost three months he hadn’t heard from you. And when you guys finally started talking again… nothing. Not a single word about it.

Until now, because you had just mentioned it. Indirectly, but you did. That little comment about stealing a plane hadn’t been random: That’s how you guys had gotten to France from Germany that time. You had stolen your father’s self flown jet and took it for a ride with Peter, and that’s where you had ended up, insisting that the real crime would be to take Peter to Europe and not showing him Paris.

It had been a full moon night, just like this one. There hadn’t been that many stars in the sky, because of the city lights, of course. But this, right then, standing at that secluded lake shore, with billions of stars lighting up the night sky, it almost felt like being underneath the tower lights again.

The soft sound of your bare feet on the grass pulled him out of his thoughts. He knew it was you, he always knew. He could tell your heartbeat apart from a crowded room. Hell, from a crowded city. He totally got your father’s favorite nickname for you.

“Hey! Everyone's looking for you,” You said, coming to a stop beside him, toes barely touching the warm water, a welcomed relief on that hot summer night. “It’s almost time to cut the cake”

“If I did wanted to steal a plane tonight, would you really do it?” He asked ignoring your comment. You simply shrugged,

“Where would we go?”

“Paris”, He replied without missing a beat. And you prayed he and his super senses couldn’t hear the way your heart picked up it’s pace with that single word. But of course he did.

He turned around to face you, his mind made up between one of your heartbeats and the next.

“What you said back inside, about no consequences, no questions asked” He inquired, “Did you mean it?”

He took a step towards you, so close now that your chests were almost touching. You wondered if he knew what it did to you having him so close, how you couldn’t think, couldn’t breath. How every inch of your skin stood to attention, ready to be electrified by the slightest touch with his.

You looked up into his eyes, taking a detour at his lips, so close to your own.

“Yes” the breathless whisper was barely audible for your normal human ears, but of course he heard you clearly. He took a final step closer.

“Close your eyes” He repeated your own words from that night at the tower back at you. You didn’t even try to resist his order. You felt him place a finger under your chin, softy tilting your head up for better access, and then the most delicate, exquisite pressure of his lips on yours.

It was too much. It was not enough. You nibbled on his bottom lip, trying to get him to deepen the kiss, and he complied, the little growl that escaped his throat at the first taste of your tongue was by far the sexiest thing you had ever heard in your life. He quickly took control of the kiss, carefully cupping your face with one hand, the other fisting the silk of your dress at your waist, pulling you closer. He almost lost all semblance of self-restraint at the way your body melted into his. You couldn’t do more than submit to his assault on your lips, than submit to him.

“Wow. Is anyone timing this? I'd swear they should've had to come out for air by now” One of the three figures watching the scene unfold from behind the glass windows of the lake house asked, confused. "They'll pass out from lack of oxygen!"

“Peter won’t pass out,” decided Harley, “superhuman and all that…”

“She can pass out”

Cassie snorted,

“I’m sure he can give her some mouth to mouth”

“You mean more than he’s already giving her?” it was Harley’s turn to snort.

Ned turned away from the window.

“So,” He began, a little dumb struck, “that happened.”

“Is still happening” corrected Harley, cheekily. Ned ignored him,

“You think they’ll finally get together now?” he asked.

“No way,” Harley scoffed.

“Yeah, those two have been pining for each other for so long, I don’t think they know how to function without it” Cassie sentenced, eyes still on the lake outside.

Ned sighed,

“You’re probably right. Tomorrow they’ll most likely be back to their stumbling, blushing selves. I swear, they are going to be getting married and still be like “Do you think she likes me? Like, like like me?”” He pitched his voice higher in a remarkably good impression of his best friend that had his new ones cracking with laughter.

“Hey, kids!” Tony Stark came up to them, frowning “Have you seen Peter and my daughter? It’s almost time for the cake… What are you looking at?”

The three teens jumped away from the window at once,

“NOTHING!!”

The End.

#peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfic #peter parker imagine #peter parker imagines #happy birthday peter parker

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Blessing *Tommy Shelby

Request:  I’d love to see a one shot where Ruby Shelby gets married and Tommy has a hard time dealing with it

           There was something fishy going on. Tommy could pick up on it the moment his daughter gave him a shy smile. At nineteen, Ruby Shelby was a heart breaker. She had her mother’s alluring looks, her father’s clever wit, and the education of a young Lady. Many men had clambered over themselves trying to get a shot with her.

           But it took the soft gaze of a pilot in the British Royal Airforce to win her over. Fresh off his service in the Second World War, Nicholas Farrier instantly fell for Ruby at a dance club in London.

           Lizzie was very supportive of the relationship, saying that the two young adults were clearly in love. Tommy, on the other hand, wasn’t so sure. Upon first meeting Nicholas, he scrutinized the pilot’s every move. Looking, scouring for any misstep, for a reason to kick the boy out of his house.

           Annoyingly, Tommy couldn’t come up with anything that Ruby or his wife would accept as a valid reason. So, Nicholas stuck around. And before Tommy could do anything, they were deeply in love.

           “She’s not going to be your little girl forever. You need to let her be her own person.” Lizzie had insisted after Tommy and Ruby got into a shouting match about her taking a holiday alone with Nicholas.

           “She’s nineteen and still lives under my roof.” Tommy retorted. “I’ll not have her romping about with some boy who cannot take care of her.”

           In response, Ruby moved out and moved in with Nicholas. Tommy had a fit.

           Eventually, father and daughter rekindled the relationship and began speaking to one another again. Then, one Sunday morning, Ruby and Nicholas came calling.

           “Daddy…”

           Tommy frowned. His daughter only ever called him that when she wanted something, was in trouble, or wanted to sway his opinion on something. “Yes?” He sparked up a cigarette. He had a feeling he would need one.

           “Nicholas wanted to ask you something.”

           The young pilot cleared his throat. He was clearly nervous about something and Tommy had an unsettling feeling that he knew what it was all about. “Mr. Shelby, I know it’s only tradition that as Ruby’s father I would ask for your blessing in asking for Ruby’s hand.”

           The Shelby girl couldn’t help but let out a little giggle as she clung to Nicholas affectionately.

           A blush spread over his cheeks and he couldn’t get the smile off his face either. “I’m afraid Ruby already found the engagement ring I’d picked for her. Still, I thought it would only be fair to ask for your blessing.”

           Tommy felt like he’d been turned to stone. All he could do was stare blankly at his daughter and Nicholas. The cigarette burned slowly between his fingers and he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to move again. The news had struck him so hard that it was akin to a gunshot. Something paralyzing, in the spine perhaps.

           Ruby’s cheerful and excited face dimmed a little the longer her father sat absolutely stoic across the desk from them. “Well say something, please.” She begged.

           Tommy’s lips parted but he still couldn’t muster the words. Not even Charles was married yet. How could his little girl be thinking about heading to the altar? It was unheard of. In fact, he was nearly sure that it was only yesterday he’d held her in his arms for the very first time. Her deep brown eyes peering up at him, a tuft of black hair already growing. How she cried when he put her down for a nap. Her little hands grasping at the air, trying to grab a hold of him so he wouldn’t let her go again.

           Now she was sat there, pushing him away.

           “No.”

           Ruby’s jaw fell open. “No?”

           “That’s right.” Tommy found his voice and put on a firm expression. “I said no.”

           Her eyes narrowed in distaste, just like Lizzie’s did when she was about to go at it with Tommy. “Well, I don’t care that you’ve said no. I’m getting married to him anyway.” She replied. “You don’t control me.”

           Oh, how perfect were the days when she was legally still a child. He could say that when she was an adult, she was free to make her own choices. But until then, his house, his rules. Now he was scrambling for an excuse.

           “Mr. Shelby,” Nicholas began to speak again. He looked a little unnerved by Tommy’s icy glare but love was a powerful thing. “I can provide for Ruby and I promise I would never harm her or-”

           “I’ve said no and I won’t change my mind.” Tommy interrupted.

           “I don’t need your blessing.” Ruby stood up and pulled Nicholas along. “Wait ‘til mum hears what you’ve said.” She snapped.

           Tommy shut his eyes tightly and slammed his fist down on the table. “Wait.” He blurted.  

           Ruby stopped from walking out and turned back around. “What?”

           Her father opened his eyes and looked at her. “You’ll have the wedding in the church down the street. Where I married your mother.” He spoke steadily even though his insides were tearing into shreds.

           Ruby crossed her arms over her chest but nodded. “Fine.”

           “And the reception here.”

           His daughter rolled her eyes. Always the man to try and control everything. “Yes, that’s fine.”

           “Alright then.” Tommy ceded. Obviously, he would much rather have Ruby married at home rather than elope God knows where.

           The joyful smile returned to her face and she dashed across the room to hug her father tightly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

           Tommy didn’t spare expenses when it came to Ruby’s wedding. Whatever she wanted; she could have. If things weren’t perfect then there was hell to pay. Even Lizzie was worried he was taking things a bit too seriously. Going from a man who refused to see the wedding through, to the man who demanded nothing but the best for his daughter.

           Lizzie wanted to remark at the hilarity of it all but Tommy wasn’t in the mood. As the big day grew closer, he was growing more and more fearful of the task at hand. Giving his daughter away. He promised early on that he would do it. He'd be damned if anyone else would try and take his place.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

           The night before the wedding, Tommy woke in a cold sweat. He startled his wife awake who tried to figure out what was going on.

           “Tom? Tommy!” Lizzie grabbed him by the shoulders as he fought against the sheets. “Calm down, what’s wrong? Was it another nightmare?”

           “Ruby. Where’s Ruby?” He asked frantically, his chest heaving with panic.

           “She’s in her room down the hall.” Lizzie soothed. “Sweetheart, relax.”

           Tommy took a few shaky breaths as he gathered his bearings. After a moment of a reality check, he realized where he was. Running a hand over his face, he recounted the subject of his nightmare to Lizzie. “I-I’d lost Ruby in the forest.” He mumbled. “I couldn’t find her. I could hear her but I couldn’t find her.”

           “Oh, Tommy, you’re just worried. That’s okay.” Lizzie said softly.

           He shook his head and got up anyways, despite his wife’s reassurance. He headed down the hall to Ruby’s bedroom. Nudging open the door; he poked his head inside to make sure she was safe in bed and his nightmare hadn’t been some sort of omen.

           But Ruby was awake and turned around when the door opened. “Dad?” She was sat on the edge of her bed, curlers in her hair for the next morning.

           “Sorry, I was just checking in on you.” He mumbled his excuse. “Try to get some sleep.”

           “Will you come lay with me?” Ruby called after him as he started to leave. "Just for a little bit at least?"

           Tommy paused. “Everything alright?” He stepped into her room.

           She nodded but wrung her hands together. “I know it’s what I want, the wedding I mean. I’m just a little nervous.” She admitted sheepishly. “It’s silly.”

           “It’s not silly.” Tommy sat down on her bed beside her. “Natural to be nervous even before exciting things. I was nervous before my wedding day.”

           “Which one?” Ruby asked teasingly.

           Tommy chuckled and shook his head. “Both of them. Because at both of them I had a new baby or one on the way.” He reminded her. “It was a lot of responsibility. Not responsibility like work but…”

           “Emotional responsibility.” Ruby finished for him.

           “Right.”

           She curled up to his side, trying to fit in his arms the way she used to. “I’m afraid of growing up sometimes.”

           Tommy wrapped his arms around his daughter, holding her close. “I know. It’s scary. But your mother, brother, and I aren’t going anywhere. No matter how old you get. You’ll always have us.”

Masterlist

#Tommy shelby #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby one shot #request #peaky blinders #peaky blinder imagine #peaky fookin blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #Ruby shelby #oc #lizzie shelby #lizzie stark

[deliciousdetectivestranger]

Notes from the Winter Solstice Meeting

Phew! Just back from the winter solstice meeting on Mount Olympus. I promised you a report. I don’t have any solid news yet, sorry, but I did petition the gods directly, so we’ll see what happens! The transcript of my talk with the Olympians is below.

Notes from Winter Solstice Meeting 2019,

Mount Olympus

600th Floor, Empire State Building

New York City

 

INT. MOUNT OLYMPUS – THRONE ROOM

We see an aging mortal writer in the midst of a great chamber. He is dwarfed by a semicircle of giant thrones inhabited by the Olympian deities.

 

Rick Riordan: Thank you for seeing me, O great Olympians.

Zeus: We understand you want . . . (checks notes) a reboot. What is wrong with your present boots?

RR: No, Lord Zeus, a reboot adaptation of my books about Percy Jackson.

Zeus: I knew that. Percy . . . Yes, he’s a good lad. Those movies, though –

Ares: Oh, gods! No. Just NO. I wanted to KILL somebody.

Hermes: To be fair, Ares, you always want to kill someone.

Ares: THAT’S NOT THE POINT!

Athena: Mr. Riordan, we already rained fire and pestilence upon that studio.

RR: Yes, Lady Athena, and I appreciate that.

Athena: The particular division that made those horrendous adaptations has been dismantled. And the remainder of the company has been . . . (dramatic pause) acquired. (Glances at Zeus) Which corporate hydra did we send to devour it? Starbucks? Amazon?

Hephaestus: (grumpily) Disney. I made a very competitive bid with Hephaestus-TV, but I was rejected! Bah!

Athena: I remember now. The hydra of the Mouse God. A powerful force indeed! At any rate, Mr. Riordan, after your first movie experience, didn’t you swear on the River Styx that you would never go to Hollywood again?

RR: I may have made some rash statements to that effect.

Hades: We take oaths on the River Styx very seriously, Riordan. Don’t make me claim your soul before its time!

RR: No, Lord Hades. Of course not. I just thought . . . well, honestly, I’d be happy to just write books and ignore Hollywood forever, but my fans really, REALLY want me to try again, seeing as there are so many new opportunities now that Disney has acquired the rights –”

Artemis: I loved Frozen. Oh, gods. Elsa is Hunter Squad goals!!!

Ares: I preferred Mulan. The new live action version looks lit — like nuclear bomb lit.

Aphrodite: You are all silly. The Little Mermaid is the best. (sighs)

Poseidon: For once, I agree with you. (clears throat). But we’re getting off track. Riordan needs to appease his fans. That is something we gods can understand. What would you have us do, mortal writer person? A hurricane against Los Angeles? A tsunami? This is, after all, my son Percy’s reputation we’re talking about!

RR: No, Lord Poseidon, nothing so dramatic. The executives I have talked to so far have been interested. I think they’ve listened to me. But there are many people that must give their input. Many executives to speak with.

Hermes: True. The servants of the Mouse God are myriad.

RR: Right now, they are considering my words, and talking, and pondering.

Athena: That is wise. Such actions must be carefully considered.

Hermes: Ugh, but pondering, though. That could take months. Years. Decades.

RR: (sighs) True, Lord Hermes. It is a very long process. That’s why I was hoping you gods could give me your blessing. Perhaps send some good omens our way? Really, any support could help.

Zeus: (stroking his beard) We could get a hashtag trending on social media.

RR: Actually, my fans already did that, without me even asking. It shot to #1 worldwide on Twitter.

Demeter: (busily sorting different kinds of cereal in a large bowl) You could spend more time meeting with people in Hollywood.

RR: I have already done that. I’ve gone to L.A. twice this fall, each time for a full week of meetings.

Artemis: (winces) That is a lot of time in L.A.

Athena: Perhaps we could show Disney how beloved these books are. We could grant you tremendous success and years on the bestseller lists.

Hermes: (waves his hand impatiently) Guys, Riordan’s already got huge success. Those Percy books have been on the bestseller list for ten solid years. That should be a strong enough message!

Ares: Well, I suppose that leaves us no choice but a full frontal assault. I will summon the war chariots!

RR: That’s not necessary, Lord Ares! Just your blessings are all I ask. May I continue to negotiate and push for a new adaptation? Will you favor my efforts?

Poseidon:

Absolutely! Those books have brought me incredible publicity. Er, I mean, they’ve brought all of us incredible publicity.

Ares: Hmm. I didn’t come across as a very nice guy.

Silence.

Athena: Anyway, what would this new adaptation look like, Riordan?

RR: I have some very specific ideas, but it’s too early to say. We have to wait to see what the minions of the Mouse God are willing to consider. The most important thing is to do a faithful adaptation that makes the fans of my books happy. They’ve been waiting for over ten years, and I really don’t want to let them down.

Hermes: Yes, fine, but what’s our cut?

RR: Your cut? Um, well . . . you get lots of publicity. New readers hearing about you, learning your names and your deeds. I’ll even burn a sandwich in your honor.

Hermes: Peanut butter?

RR: Sure.

Hermes: You are a shrewd negotiator, Riordan. I will support you.

Zeus: Would you be willing to take some notes on the script, though? For one thing, I should be played by Brad Pitt.

Ares: No, I’m Brad Pitt!

Demeter: (looks up from her large bowl of cereal) No, Brad Pitt is mine! (blinks) Wait, what are we talking about?

Hera: (glances up from her Good Housekeeping magazine) Go back to sorting your Frosted Flakes, Sister. (narrows her eyes at Riordan) I always come off looking like the villain in your books, Riordan. Why is that? Why should I support you?

RR: Ah. Well, Lady Hera –

Zeus: Don’t be touchy, my dear. He took artistic liberties, that’s all.

Hera: Hmmm.

Zeus: Speaking of artistic liberties, what if – hear me out – what if we made Percy Jackson a teenaged vampire?

Poseidon: Never! But I think the story would work well if we made all the characters be in their early twenties. And we turned it into a sort of spy thriller meets romantic comedy.

Athena: Or perhaps you could just let the author do what his millions of fans want and be faithful to the source material.

Zeus: Well . . . I suppose you’re the goddess of wisdom for a reason.

Athena: Also, I want to be played by Brie Larson.

Hermes: Dibs on Benedict Cumberbatch.

Hades: I want Stan Lee to have a cameo.

Zeus: Stan Lee is dead; may the gods rest his soul.

Hades: You’re talking to the Lord of the Underworld, here.

RR: (under his breath) Suddenly an animated adaptation isn’t sounding so bad.

Aphrodite: I just want to know when the casting calls are.

RR: (confused) My lady?

Aphrodite: Well, I know I don’t have any acting experience, but I look perfect for the role of Aphrodite and my friends all tell me I’m very dramatic.

Artemis: You are Aphrodite, you nitwit.

Aphrodite: Don’t be rude! I just want an audition.

RR: Uh . . . okay. So then do I have your permission to keep pressing for a new adaptation?

Muttering and whispering among the gods.

Zeus: Very well, mortal writer person, but even with the gods on your side, this will be a difficult struggle, and it may be a long time before you get a clear answer. Unlike the Olympians, Hollywood does not work during the winter holidays. Everyone is out of the office until after New Year’s.

RR: Yes, Lord Zeus. But I must keep trying. For the fans! For the children!

Hera: (rolling her eyes) You’re as dramatic as Aphrodite. By the way, I expect my part to be played by Elizabeth Taylor.

RR: But she’s – (catches a warning look and a shake of the head from Zeus.) – I’ll see what I can do, Lady Hera.

Zeus: Excellent! Now if you’ll excuse us, Riordan. We have other business to attend to. These climate disasters aren’t going to create themselves.

 

Riordan exits, bowing and scraping.

 

Zoom out from Mount Olympus to an aerial view of Manhattan.

 

Fade to black.

#rick riordan #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #olympus #new york #empire state building #gods of olympus #hades #poseidon #zeus #hera #demeter #athena #ares #hermes #artemis #aphrodite #hepheastus #winter solstice #bestsellers #Disney #live adaption #animated adaption #It's Happening! #Finally!

[sachinsh]

Under the orange Street lights.

"Eddelo hange estott phone hidkond kuthirtiya, uuta khali aag hogutte"

Prajwal called me as he took his plate. It was 8 :30, dinner time in my pg. They served dinner upto 9: 30. But this bastard always had to do things in time.

"Nin madkond ba, nan amel hogtini"

He left.

I was scrolling through the pictures that were taken during my holidays back in home. It had been just 2 days since I returned from Dharwad. Those few days at Bangalore that followed the holidays weren't so good to me as I always felt anxious about being away from home.

"Chapati nai hai bhaiyya, rice sambar kha lo"

we had an Assami cook. I served my food and turned to sit. The air felt good. It was around the month of August.

"Bangalore and monsoon, always better together, indeed a perfect pair" I said to myself.

The terrace was full that day. It was beautiful how people from many different parts of country, not related to each other in any ways, used to have dinner on that terrace together everyday. Universe always aligns unpredictable and unplanned things in our lives.

If there's something amazing about life, it's probably the process of life itself.

"Where are you taking us for party da?" a thin short boy jumped on his friend as he stuck all the cake on his face. One of their other friends took a picture. They all screamed in unison

"Happy birthday da" with laughter.

There on the floor, was a small group of Tamilians sitting in circle. From whatever I could hear, they talked about the recent elections in their state. Some of them were watching cricket match. The pg had a small telivision at one of the corners. Because of uncertain rains in Bangalore, at times it would make a whirring sound and go off.

I saw a guy, a little elder than me walk towards the kitchen as I woke up to wash my hands. He held a phone in his hand and made unusual hand signals looking at it. I washed my hands and plate. He smiled at me and signalled a generous hello as I returned. I said hi. He didn't respond. I had never seen him in pg before. He wore a pair of khaki boxers and plane white vest. He was constantly cheering the Indian cricket in between while he was on his video call. The cook told me later that he was deaf and mute. He said me he worked in a road construction and didn't have any family except for his sister who did a college in the same city.

I wasn't in any mood to go back to my room. The emptiness in my mind would lead to depressing chain of thoughts. I decided to watch cricket match for sometime after which I walked towards the edge of terrace from where I could see the whole Hulimavu and beyond.

Just beside the pg, the local vegetable vendors were packing up to leave. At other farther end, I could see the road that was lit up with orange Street lights along the way. There were coconuts trees on each side of road as it streched to infinity. Most of the street lights installed around my pg were orange lights, sodium vapour bulbs to be more specific. The city had calmed down. The tall skycraping buildings of the city looked like they heaved a sigh of relief after a long busy day. The roads that were congested with voices and chatters throughout the day were now silent.

An invisible cloud of thoughts had arised in me as I stood staring at the calmness that emerged infront of me out of nowhere. I remembered the good days I had spent with my family during holidays. It's really amazing how even smallest and most insignificant moments spent with the people you love become most beautiful memories. How shortest chats with right people can become such important conversations. Couple of movies, dinners, trips, and just like that in no time, my holidays would get over like every time. There are no words to explain my parents' happiness when I went back home, especially my mom. She would prepare my favourite dishes until my very last holiday. Then she would prepare chips and sweets for me to carry as I returned to hostel.

No one knows the importance of homefood better than students that study in Bangalore pgs.

A voice stopped my thought process.

"Are bhai, tu aega niche ya main aaun upar"

I heard a voice from below the terrace, just infront of my pg gate. It was my friend. After realising that his bike horn isn't gonna help, he had now started to just shout my name. We had a movie plan, that days last show. I had completely forgotten that.

The mental state of my being dropped from the tallest mountain to the deepest valley. Quite a fall.

"Aaya , 2 minat "

I rushed to my room.

But before I went down, I looked at the Tamilians again. The TV. The clouds. The orange lights. The Coconut trees. I looked at the man that had lost everything in life, but not his hope. That was one of the most beautiful smiles I had ever seen, for it didn't need a reason.

Universe has enough omens for all of us. Good ones majorly. All it takes for us is to notice them.

End of the day.

Calm☮️

[occult-castiel]

Reversed Omens

Pretty much a proof of concept from this post. Also on ao3 cause why not

Heavenly Demons and Damned Angels

He was Falling.

It was a simple order, Aziraphale supposed.

“Just go be a leader. Confident.”

Angels in kilts lined the white halls of Heaven. It was always pristine. A sterile, perfect white. The most interesting thing about Heaven, he found out later, was that it really didn’t smell like anything. The second most was how there was a permanent coolness in the air. Enough to make a person just uncomfortable enough to notice. He always had goosebumps.

Everyone was in a tight line, shoulder to shoulder, kilts brushed together. Their chests bulged so far they almost seemed deformed, an unnatural curve. Rigid arms were lifted to their foreheads, a perfect, angular salute. Statues.

Aziraphale couldn't help but notice the burning anger in their eyes. The clicks of his heels reverberated in silence as he walked past dozens upon dozens of waiting soldiers.

Lucifer- Satan now- had gone against the Almighty Herself, and brought down a third of the angels with him. He’d seen them, some of them, Fall.

It started with a question, a slight attitude. And then their eyes would widen. Some dropped to the ground, a few clutched their chests as they stared into space. Some sobbed. And then the fire would come. He swallowed.

“Aziraphale!”

A man with a twisted, brown mustache yelled at him a few paces ahead. A row of stars adorned his white, militarist jacket. Not a single soldier flinched at the noise. Aziraphale fidgeted with his pinky ring.

“Yes?” he called out.

“Your platoon is waiting for you!” The man snapped, and a sword appeared in his hand. He shoved it towards him. “You’ll be on the front lines.”

He took the sword, and it lit, flames consumed its crystal-like blade. “The fire. It’ll hurt them, the demons.”

Demons. The ones born in fire. Fire and tears- “I-I don’t think that's the case.”

His eyes widened, “Is that dissent, soldier?”

He tried to smile, but looked at the floor. “No.”

“Good-”

“But,” a glare, “Our-our siblings, they’re born in fire, are they not?”

He was grabbed by the collar of his shirt and yanked to the man's face. “They are not our siblings. They’re the enemy.”

He could feel ten thousand eyes on him, staring at his back. All of them ready to fight. 

But Aziraphale.

Aziraphale had seen them cry. He saw angels go from having a bad day, maybe saying something not exactly tasteful, to having the worst possible day imaginable.

Angels weren’t meant to crumble and sob. And the fire. He could see the orange and red fury of flames dance out of the corner of his eye, as the General held him in place, examined him.

He was expected to burn them again. 

“I-can’t- can't someone else, lead them?” He tried to swallow again, but it wouldn't go down. “Someone more qu-qualified?”

He heard the clanks of the sword as it hit the ground before he realised he fell too.

It was like his blood was replaced with a liquified, concentrated panic. His breath quickened. All the whites meshed into one, singular blur as he looked from side to side.

He could feel his skin prickle. The goosebumps that littered his skin moments before multiplied. They pulled. Twisted. And then, then they burned. It was a slow and fast transition all at once. Each little craves between warmed first. Hotter, hotter, hotter.

He didn't hear himself scream, but he felt the hoarseness. His skin popped and crackled, busted open into flame.

All he could see was red.

He felt his wings erupt open. The fire jumped to them, and his back snapped backwards.

And then he was falling.

The solid ground had dissipated.

And he was Falling. There was an emptiness that spread from his chest and consumed

Everything was dark and red and seemed to go on for an eternity, or an instant. 

He passed out before the lake of burning sulfur consumed him.

---

God's green garden was the most radiant shade of green imaginable. The plants were perfect- crisp, spotless leaves. Each tree and bush was artistically spread. Nothing was too close to anything else. There were no uneven sides. Hints of color were dotted around in a way that made everything feel like it had a place, a purpose.

Anthony, Angel of the Eastern Gate, frowned. It was all… Boring.

He’d been stationed here for over two weeks. The flaming sword he’d been assigned hadn't left the spot on the wall he’d leaned it against. Nothing happened, nothing changed. Paradise.

“Go and look after the Almighty Human creations. Ensure no trouble comes.”

He’d agreed easily enough, the thought of actually seeing trouble was alluring. It seemed he missed a whole rebellion due to a particularly long nap, and was quite confused when he woke up. Briefly thought he managed to sleep all the way up to the holidays, with all the missing angels.

Not that he wanted to fight, but. Well. It would've been at least a little interesting, see what was happening.

Instead of walking around the same wall again and again and again. It was punishment, he supposed. All the other artists were still crafting the wonders of the Earth. Which was fair, sleeping for two weeks straight had been a little excessive.

But still, the wall was exactly 3,879 paces around. Which he’d counted. Several dozen times.

A soft yelp below caught his attention. He peered over the edge of the wall, and saw someone that definitely was not one of the humans.

He was plump, and blond hair was a ball of short, blond twists. The edges were frayed. A black tunic hung like a satin blanket around his pale skin. The contrast made him smile.

“Hey! You down there!”

The man jumped, his head flicked up and he squinted at him. “Uh, yes?”

“What’re you doing down there?” he called out.

He gave a response, but Anthony couldn’t really make it out. 

“What?”

The man repeated it, to no avail.

“Alright, alright look. I need you,” he pointed down, and motioned back upwards, “to come up here.”

He watched the blond man struggle to climb the wide of the wall for a few moments before sighing, and snapped.

The stranger materialized next to him, and instantly fell on the floor. He looked up and smiled, “Oh-oh thank you,” he stood himself up. “That would've been dreadful, to go up the whole thing.”

His eyes were like pools of plasma. Swirling streams of blue that engulfed his iris. The pupil, while circular, was more of a deep indigo than a true black. He’d made stars that looked like them, in a way. His wings were as dark as the depths of creation itself, the endless void they’d painted with spirals and nebulas.

They were like crow's wings. A very newly named animal. Cunning creatures, ones he could respect

“So, you’re a demon, hm?” His head tilted to the side as he examined him, from his feet to the crown of his head.

He sighed, “I’m afraid so. Aziraphale.”

“That’s an angelic name.”

Aziraphale looked like he was punched. ‘Well, I missed the renaming ceremony since I was a, uh, late arrival.”

“Well, that's unfortunate.” And he did, suppose, it was. A permanent reminder of something lost. “Could change it anyway.”

And that was a thought. The freedom to choose one's name. An identity crafted by yourself. A crow flew past them.

“Oh no, I quite like my given name.”

He chuckled. “Very demonic of you.”

The demon fidgeted with his tunic, and seemed to find the floor quite interesting. “Lord Beelzebub wasn't too pleased.”

He hummed as he watched the birds fly over distant trees. “Well, if a demons keeping his name, I suppose I could change mine. If I wanted, hm?”

“Oh, I’m not sure if that’s the best idea-”

“Oh I’m sure fallen angels know all about great ideas,” he stuck his hand out, “I think I’ll go with Crowley.”

Aziraphale returned the gesture and they shook. His nails were as black as his wings. “Crows,” he made the connection instantly. “Clever creatures, those one’s.”

“So what brings you to Eden, demon?”

He let out a long breath, shoulders slumped. “I’m supposed to be causing trouble, but I haven’t the slightest idea how to do that. Very,” he searched for a word, “vague. I think Lord Beelzebub sent me here to get me away from them, really.”

“I can relate to that one. Punishment and nonsense orders.” He motioned towards the garden, and then leaned towards him. “I'm only here because I slept through the rebellion. And then I'm given some silly order to protect this place-” he stopped, and snapped his gaze to Aziraphale. “And what's with this apple business?”

“Oh, I wouldn't know,” he shrugged, “No briefings in Hell it seems.”

“You know what I think,” He looked back to the greenery, “None of this makes any sense. If the Almighty’s so concerned with some fruit, why not put it on the moon?”

Aziraphale instantly glares at him, “That's- That’s borderline blasphemy! Are you trying to Fall?”

His eyebrows shot up, “And why would that concern you, hm? Shouldn’t you want more soldiers down there?”

“What I want is to never have to go back to that dreary place,” his nose scrunched as he scowled, “Hell desperately needs new plumping.” He motioned to his body, “And color pallet.”

He was- he was pouting. Was this seriously the dastardly enemy he’d been warned about?

Crowley cackled, laughter shook his whole body. “You,” he gave an airy laugh, “You know. Heaven, while clean, is rather dull too.”

“At least they have manners upstairs.”

He laughed again before he spoke. “You know,” he let the words drag out, “I bet they’d leave you alone for quite some time if you got the humans to eat that apple.” He put his hands in the air. “Not that I’m telling you to do that, of course.”

The demon just stared at him, and quite bewildered, said, “Are you sure you’re an angel?”

“Hey- I’m the one with the white wings here.”

Aziraphale's eyes trailed their way to the middle of the forest. Looking at the tree, perhaps. He bit his lip for a moment. “I do think you might be right about that.”

“Plus, the almighty can't be too mad. She did put a pretty big neon sign on the blasted thing.”

Soon enough, Aziraphale had slipped away, and stumbled down the wall. Off to do thing Crowley assumed he was meant to thwart, but he really did want some sort of change to happen. And if head office asked, he’d just spin some story about how he thought they meant dangers outside the walls.

By the end of the week, humanity had been banished, and Crowley was demoted down to a principality. 

“Go and watch over the humans, and this time actually do some thwarting, Anthony.”

He thought of the odd demon, and how he was probably tasked something similar and smiled.

“Of course Gabriel. My pleasure.”

This could be fun

#ineffable husbands #ineffable husbands fic #good omens #i did not proof read or really edit this #impulsive writings

[starling-coven]

What is Wicca?

Hello, Bront/Briar here. I figured, to start this off, I should do the basics. So, what is Wicca?

If you put 1000 wiccans in a room and asked each this question, you'd get 1000 different answers. But there are some things that you will find common in most answers.

1. The Rede

The wiccan rede is basically the wiccan Bible, it is the code of conduct for wiccans. There are two versions, the long rede, which goes like this :

Bide within the Law you must, in perfect Love and perfect Trust.

Live you must and let to live, fairly take and fairly give.

For tread the Circle thrice about to keep unwelcome spirits out.

To bind the spell well every time, let the spell be said in rhyme.

Light of eye and soft of touch, speak you little, listen much.

Honor the Old Ones in deed and name,

let love and light be our guides again.

Deosil go by the waxing moon, chanting out the joyful tune.

Widdershins go when the moon doth wane,

and the werewolf howls by the dread wolfsbane.

When the Lady's moon is new, kiss the hand to Her times two.

When the moon rides at Her peak then your heart's desire seek.

Heed the North winds mighty gale, lock the door and trim the sail.

When the Wind blows from the East, expect the new and set the feast.

When the wind comes from the South, love will kiss you on the mouth.

When the wind whispers from the West, all hearts will find peace and rest.

Nine woods in the Cauldron go, burn them fast and burn them slow.

Birch in the fire goes to represent what the Lady knows.

Oak in the forest towers with might, in the fire it brings the God's

insight. Rowan is a tree of power causing life and magick to flower.

Willows at the waterside stand ready to help us to the Summerland.

Hawthorn is burned to purify and to draw faerie to your eye.

Hazel-the tree of wisdom and learning adds its strength to the bright fire burning.

White are the flowers of Apple tree that brings us fruits of fertility.

Grapes grow upon the vine giving us both joy and wine.

Fir does mark the evergreen to represent immortality seen.

Elder is the Lady's tree burn it not or cursed you'll be.

Four times the Major Sabbats mark in the light and in the dark.

As the old year starts to wane the new begins, it's now Samhain.

When the time for Imbolc shows watch for flowers through the snows.

When the wheel begins to turn soon the Beltane fires will burn.

As the wheel turns to Lamas night power is brought to magick rite.

Four times the Minor Sabbats fall use the Sun to mark them all.

When the wheel has turned to Yule light the log the Horned One rules.

In the spring, when night equals day time for Ostara to come our way.

When the Sun has reached it's height time for Oak and Holly to fight.

Harvesting comes to one and all when the Autumn Equinox does fall.

Heed the flower, bush, and tree by the Lady blessed you'll be.

Where the rippling waters go cast a stone, the truth you'll know.

When you have and hold a need, harken not to others greed.

With a fool no season spend or be counted as his friend.

Merry Meet and Merry Part bright the cheeks and warm the heart.

Mind the Three-fold Laws you should three times bad and three times good.

When misfortune is enow wear the star upon your brow.

Be true in love this you must do unless your love is false to you.

These Eight words the Rede fulfill:

"An Ye Harm None, Do What Ye Will"

Much of this has to do with omens and spellwork, which is a topic worthy of its own post. You'll also find our list of sabbats (holidays) as well as the threefold law, which is similar to the idea of karma, if you harm someone you will be harmed three times worse, if you help someone you will be helped three times better. It also mentions the God and the Lady. These two come from the first religions, and all we know about them comes from ancient cave paintings. The modern Goddess and God are like yin and yang. The God is the sun and the Goddess is the moon, oposing ideas will be assigned to each. Though the definition of opposition, there isn't one that is good or one that is evil, even though the Goddess is often seen as the greater of the two powers. The God is often referred to as the Goddess's consort. It is because of these gods that many wiccan alters are divided into masculine and feminine sides. And at the end you have the core of this entire poem "An ye harm none do what ye will" which is exactly what it sounds like, don't hurt people.

The second version of the rede is the short rede which goes like this:

"An ye harm none do what ye will'

That's it. Very simple and easy to remember.

2. The rule of three

I know, this is part of the long rede, but hear me out. Even wiccans who follow the short rede or don't follow any form of the rede can believe in the rule of three. We're a very fluid bunch when crafting our personal docterines, and we are proud of that. We have a whole branch for wiccans who don't follow the rules of any other branch. But that's for another post.

3.Nature

We love it, it is our place of worship, yes, we know we are tree loving hippies and we don't care.

When we are outside we are close to our gods, that's all it really is. If a wiccan doesn't follow the God and the Goddess, chances are they follow some other set of gods that are hevily tied to nature. I've personally seen a lot of Heathanistic and Hellenistic wiccans, who are wiccans who follow the Norse Pantheon and the Greek Pantheon respectively.

4. Polytheisim

This means that we believe in more than one god, whether it's 2, 22, or 102.

These are the trends you'll see. In my personal opinion, a wiccan is a nature focused polytheist who recognizes the Wiccan Sabbats, but that is just my personal opinion. I'd like to hear yours. Go ahead and comment. Did I miss something? Get something dead wrong? Put the correction down there too. Did I say something confusing? Put your question down there, I'd love to help. Blessed be!

#wiccan #wicca #pagan wicca #pagan #paganism

[anotherfiveyears]

20: For You Blue

*Virginia, The day before Thanksgiving 1996*

He pulled his rental car into the parking lot of the little strip mall in Alexandria and nervously shoved a couple pieces of gum in his mouth. The clock on the dashboard clicked over to 5:55 and he took the uniformity as a good enough omen to brave entering the record store.

The bells jingled happily above the door, intensifying his butterflies and her voice drifted from the back room. "Be right there!"

He darted to the Rock section, keeping his back to her when she emerged from the back room carrying a box of Christmas decorations. "Can I help you find anything?"

"Yeah, you guys have that new Goo Fighters yet?" he tried not to laugh as he stared up at a promo poster of him and the band from a photo shoot he didn't even remember being at.

"Foo Fighters or Goo Goo Dolls?" he could hear the twinge of irritation in her voice as she made her way over and turned to watch her flip through a stack of records. "The last Goo Goo Dolls was released a few years back, but the Foo Fighters..." she found his first album and held it up, gasping in shock when she finally looked at his face. "Goddamnit, David! You are such an asshole!" she cried.

"Happy to see you too, Annie," he laughed and dragged her to him, hugging her tightly and hoping he didn't have to let go.

"You cut your fucking hair!" she exclaimed, running her fingers through his chopped cut.

"Do you like it?"

"Um..." she wrinkled her nose a bit but giggled. "I think it's going to take some getting used to."

"Good enough," he decided, trying to hide his frown when she wiggled out of his arms. "Need help closing up?"

"Sure! You remember what to do?"

He nodded and let her take the cash tray in the back before moving behind the counter. Finding himself facing a wall covered in posters, pictures and other random memorabilia of his, he spotted a frame holding a collage of ticket stubs and pictures. Several Scream, Nirvana, and even two Foo Fighters stubs were positioned over pictures of Anna and her Dad, both of them happily smiling in front of the lit stage where Dave was performing. He heard Anna returning to the front and crouched to shut off the stereo.

"This is new," he said, tilting his head at the wall.

"Yeah, Dad's a big fan," she said simply and put the cash tray back in the register.

"I wish I would have known you were there..."

Anna leaned against the counter with a raised eyebrow, daring him to go on. He sensed her irritation and leaned against the wall, copying his cheesy grin on the poster behind him. "Can I take you to dinner?"

"I don't know, kitten," she replied with a half smile. "Can you?" Her eyes drifted to the silver band on his ring finger.

Fuck. He had meant to leave it in the car, but he had been too eager to see her. "As friends."

She snorted a laugh and tossed her keys at him, "Here, you drive. I just have to lock up."

Perfect. He hurried to her car and slipped into the driver's seat, pulling the demo tape from his pocket and shoving it into the car's stereo. He switched it to the CD player just as she hopped into the passenger seat with a bright smile. "So where are we going?"

*

"Sorry I couldn't make it to the west coast," she sighed and flopped onto the bar stool. "The holidays are just insane at work. Especially now that Clinton won again."

"Maybe you can come over in January," Dave replied, dragging a bar stool close to hers. He had taken her to a tiny dive bar that he and Jimmy frequented. It wasn't fancy, but he knew he wouldn't be recognized or bothered there.

She laughed a little and leaned her elbows on the bar. "I think I'm still hungover from your last birthday, David."

"Yeah, I think we both had a good time that night," he said quietly.

"So, how long are you here for?" she asked, trying to appear casual as she took her beer glass from the bartender, but he caught her smile.

"I have to be back in the studio January third."

Her eyebrows shot up as she took a drink. "That's a long break! Aren't you guys under a deadline?"

"Yeah," he sighed, "but the sessions are tougher than I thought they'd be."

"How so?"

"I don't know," he sighed and sat back in his chair. "It's so different than with Kurt and Krist or when it was just me and Barrett. Now these guys all look to me for direction and I have no idea how to give it without sounding like an asshole."

"Aren't you the one that writes all the songs?"

"Yeah, but..."

"They're just asking for guidance on how to play what's in your brain," she laughed and shook her head. "Your poor brain."

He stared at her profile, marveling at her obvious answer. That's exactly what he had done with Kurt when they recorded. His job was to interpret what was in Kurt's disaster of a mind and play the drums accordingly, why didn't he see it sooner? Between the divorce and the stress of the record, he felt in a fog. There hadn't been a neutral party around him in so long, someone that wasn't a band member or someone that didn't depend on him for a living and it was beginning to kill the pleasure in making music. Anna suddenly burst out laughing, covering her mouth with her hand.

"What's so funny?" He had forgotten how contagious her laugh was.

"Your fucking hair, David! Oh my god," she giggled.

They spent the rest of the evening sharing plates of fried bar food and beer, laughing about their younger days and talking about whatever was going on in their lives. Dave feigned ordering another beer at the rail so he could pay without her protesting, though he knew she saw right through him. She even leaned into him as they walked back to her car and he instinctively put his arm around her, wondering if maybe she would ask him to come home with her. Just as he was about to open her car door for her, he heard her stifle a laugh and felt her hand in his pocket, then she was gone in a breeze of giggles. He chased after her, catching her arm just as she made it to the driver's side door and pressed her into it. He held up the $20 she had shoved in his pocket before tucking it into her coat. She tried to glare, but couldn't keep a straight face.

"Sometimes I forget how much I miss you," she giggled.

"You should teach me how to forget cause I miss you all the fucking time."

*

Dave threw her car into park back at the record shop and sat back in the driver's seat. He wanted to talk to her more, just spend a little more time with her before they had to go their separate ways. Anna had held his hand all the way back from the bar, seemingly lost in her own head as she wasn't as talkative as usual.

"You okay?" he asked cautiously.

Her head snapped up and she forced a little smile. "Yes, just fine. Thanks for surprising me tonight. I had fun." Before he could reply, she was out of the car.

She reached out to brush her hand against his as they crossed paths in the beam of the headlights and quickly slid behind the steering wheel. He spun around and followed her, his heart in his throat knowing she was about to listen to his demo tape.

"Wait, Anna," he held the driver's side door open and leaned across her to switch the stereo from CD to tape. The tape clicked over and he knew he had exactly twelve seconds to say goodbye to her. "Can I call you tomorrow?"

"Of course," she nodded, confused by his behavior. "I'll be at my parent's all day."

"Great." He quickly kissed her forehead and shut the door, hearing the first riff of the song when he climbed into his own car.

Dave rolled his window down and watched her, knowing just by the look on her face that she was absorbing his words. She stared straight ahead at the circles her headlights made against the brick building, gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles. The song built and faded, then ended as she sat motionless. He began to fidget thinking she hated it, maybe she would think he was making fun of her, maybe he shouldn't have ever recorded the song when she finally appeared at his open window. Her face was neutral, maybe a little stunned when she took a breath.

"It's not even a word," she breathed.

He barked a laugh, that's what everyone said when they heard it for the first time. "Not unless you're leaving voicemails after half a rack of beer."

She gave him a forced smile and stepped back a little, "Will you come talk to me for a bit?"

"Yeah, sure," he said quietly, now totally convinced she hated the song. She was going to be so pissed when he told her it made it to the record.

Anna unlocked the record shop and the bells chimed loudly into the silence. She let him lock the door, putting distance between them as she hurried to the counter. They kept the lights off as the light from the back room was enough for them to see, but still hide any emotion they couldn't keep from their faces. Leaning her back against the counter, she faced him with a deadly serious voice. "How much of it is about me?"

"The song or the record?" he winced when her eyes went wide and she spun away from him to hide her face in her hands. "Just two songs, Anna," he lied.

"David!"

"Okay, fine. Four. Maybe five." It was six, but he wasn't about to tell her that now.

She took in a sharp breath and pushed off the counter, unable to look at him as she walked into the back. He found her in the stock room, sitting on an empty vinyl crate with her head in her hands.

"Anna..."

"No, David," she said sharply. "No."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Oh, I don't know," she snapped. "Not write about my personal life for public fucking consumption?"

"No one's going to know it's you," he insisted, sitting across from her on another crate.

"Bullshit!" she cried. "You don't think there aren't entire teams of journalists out there trying to dig up dirt on you?"

His stomach dropped. "Have they gotten to you?"

She only stared at him, her lips a thin line.

"You know, most girls would love to have a song written about them," he regretted his words as soon as he said them, but he didn't know what else to do.

"Oh, dear," she cooed sarcastically. "Am I not showing enough gratitude-"

"... Anna," he warned.

"- for having my love life broadcast all over the world? My apologies, oh great one... Have I angered the mighty rock god? Was a virgin sacrifice not good enough?"

He sat back, her words feeling like a slap in the face. The last thing he wanted to do was fight with her. He had been looking forward to being with Anna for weeks, they were having so much fun earlier, but he had managed to ruin everything with a four minute song.

"Can you just understand why I wrote them?"

"Yeah! I mean, why would you ever keep something that private from the masses?"

"Cut the sarcasm, Anna."

"Cut the song, David."

He jumped off the crate, startling Anna enough that she fell backward. He grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet, gritting his teeth in anger. "What am I supposed to do? You're all I think about anymore, you're... Fuck, Anna! Everyone is on my back telling me I need to write something with meaning and then when I do, the only person I care about fucking hates it."

"I'm not-" she forced herself out of his arms and took a step back from him. "I didn't say I hated it. The song is beautiful, but you're fucking married, David! I don't want to be the other woman. Don't do that to me."

"It's already over, Anna! How many times do I need to tell you that?"

"You still go back to her, David. You live with her, you wear your wedding ring when I'm not around. For all I know, she's waiting for you at your mom's house right now. And when the record is released and people start digging, they'll find out it's me. Please... don't do this to me."

#anotherfiveyearsfic

[evenstevensranked]

#12: Season 1, Episode 15 - “Heck of a Hanukkah”

After sneaking a peek at -- and accidentally breaking -- all of his family’s Hanukkah presents, Louis gets grounded for the holiday and believes the Stevens tribe would be better if he was never born. He travels through time and space “It's A Wonderful Life” style thanks to the guidance of his great Bubbe Rose, who shows him what a world without Louis Stevens would actually be like. 

First off, I'd like to point out that I own this episode on an official Disney Holiday DVD. So I took that as an opportunity to have HQ screenshots for once!!! :) But, yes. This is the obligatory "Christmas episode" which I’m pretty positive every single TV series has. Maybe it’s just me, but I feel like Christmas episodes can tend to be forgettable and generic. This one, however, is such a classic. 

One thing I wanna mention before we dive into this thing: This episode is filmed weirdly. It has a very “soap opera” feel to it? Is it possible that it was shot at 60fps? That’s the only explanation I can think of. It always bothered me that this is the only episode out of all 65 that looks and feels entirely different than the others. I wonder why that is...? That being said, I always had such fond memories of this one.

It opens with Louis snooping around in Ren’s closet for their Hanukkah presents. (“Give it up, Louis. You are never going to find them!”) But, you see... he’s determined to find them because he’s Louis Stevens and this is what he does. 

This leads into a bit where Ren chases Louis into Donnie’s room and Louis “accidentally” (but Shia is obviously doing it purposely) knocks over all of Donnie’s trophies on the way out. THIS BOTHERS ME SO MUCH! What the heck?

He’s literally fine, and then... he just sticks his arm out, lol. Also, are all of the shelves magically connected? Why do those upper shelves collapse when Louis only wrecked the lower one? Questions. 

Louis keeps running and eventually ends up in the basement. He concludes that the presents must be down there somewhere. They chose to add this weird effect here where Louis’ mind works like a high tech computer, allowing him to scan and successfully know where the presents aren’t just by looking at the potential hiding places:

He doesn’t even TRY to check these places. He just knows. I swear, when I was a kid I genuinely thought this was some plot twist and Louis was actually a cyborg like Cookie from “Ned’s Declassified” this whole time or something. 

Of course, Louis finds the presents in a trunk with the clever message “Louis, please clean out this trunk!” taped to it. Yeah, the reverse psychology alllllmost worked there, but Louis is smarter than that.

Meanwhile, Eileen is cooking dinner upstairs. She’s casually telling Steve, Ren and Donnie the story of Hanukkah for the first time in years while they help her prepare. Since they’re distracted by the tale, Louis manages to smuggle all of the presents out of the basement and sneaks right past his family. I love that they actually wrote the Stevens Family as half Jewish on Eileen's side specifically, though. I mentioned this recently! It totally mirrors Shia’s real life and I think that’s pretty cool. 

Notice Louis hiding behind that pile presents he’s carrying on the far right lol

Having them celebrate the Jewish holiday for the “Christmas” episode is pretty nice too. I think this might’ve been my first exposure to the Jewish faith now that I think about it. Eileen’s little story of Hanukkah works subtly here. It's educational in a non-preachy way, which is an absolute feat in comparison to other Disney shows that hit you over the head with the intended lesson of the day (I’m looking at you, Girl Meets World...)

Louis rushes upstairs to his room where he hides under the covers and RIPS OPEN EVERY SINGLE PRESENT. Okay. I understand and remember the anticipation of the holidays and wanting to know what gifts you’re getting... but to actually OPEN every single one?!?! Like, really Louis? Whatever happened to simply shaking a gift and trying to guess what it is? Honestly. Was he planning on rewrapping all of them?! How? 

Just as Louis finishes opening all the gifts, Steve calls for him and comes walking upstairs wondering what he’s doing up there! Louis panics and tries to stash the gifts somewhere all bundled up in a sheet. His room is a pigsty and his closet is beyond full -- so the only place he can think to put them is OUT THE WINDOW!!! Yeah. The bundle of gifts goes tumbling down the roof and splatters all over the driveway. The entire family march up to his room piiiiised off as they stare out the window at the trashed gifts. 

"Hey! It's not my fault we live in a two-story house! I have always said that I like ranch style!" -- Louis Stevens. One of my favorite quotes ever.

They throw in a line from Steve here “Is this gonna happen again next week when my cousins are here to celebrate Christmas with us?!” simply letting us know that Steve’s side of the family is likely Christian/Catholic... which also mirrors Shia’s real life. Seriously, am I the only one who thinks this is kinda awesome? Not only because they seemingly wrote that around him -- but as someone who’s biracial, I just love to see any sort of blended family represented in TV/Film. 

Eileen grounds Louis for Hanukkah and The Remorse™ seeps in. Louis flops on his bed all depressed with the words of his disappointed family reverberating in his head. They make a point to emotionally pan over to this family photo on his bedside:

THIS IS SO CUTE! We see near-identical photos to this throughout the series, but this one is so happy and genuine looking. Does Ren have Louis in a loveable headlock?! Precious. 

This fades into a MIRROR TALK!!! Yesssss. I think this is the last we ever see of these lovely talks before they mysteriously stopped. :( But, hey! It’s a powerful one to end on! Louis thinks out loud as usual and says that he doesn't belong in the Stevens family -- that they'd be better if he was never born. 

Enter: his Bubbe Rose! (”My Boobie WHAT?!”) The ghost of his great great great great grandmother, played by Donna Pescow in some serious age makeup!! She comes flying through his bedroom window right on cue ready to take him on a ~magical journey.~ There’s a wonderful, perfectly timed Louis Scream here. There’s also a bit where Louis doesn’t believe that she’s a ghost, so she makes herself disappear and Shia presumably ad-libs looking for her between his box spring and mattress. This always cracked me up. 

That scream. You can hear this gif. 

Bubbe Rose is apparently Louis’ grandmother from only 4 generations ago but says that she has 7,000 grandchildren. How does that make any sense at all? lol. SOMEONE must’ve got busy in that family. Anyway... They embark on their journey by flying around the moon a few times and over the city, leaving a trail of rainbow light behind them. No biggie. They pretty much look exactly like the “The More You Know” shooting star:

“AHGHHH! WE’RE FLYIN!!”

They land (very roughly) right outside of Louis’ house. Except, it’s not really Louis’ house anymore. Bubbe Rose explains that they’re in a dimension where he was never born. Once again, Louis doesn’t believe her even though she just took him flying around the moon. He slaps himself in the face to prove that he is in fact born, but Bubbe Rose insists that his family will not be able to see or hear him. Louis thinks it’s a load of malarkey. He sarcastically shouts “Whatever you say! Give my regards to Casper, okay?" as he marches into the house like he owns the place. I absolutely love that Casper line. Oh my god. 

As soon as Louis walks into the dining room, Steve seemingly turns around to greet him with his arms outstretched “SON!” but... well...

Honestly, that’s some great CGI for a 2001 Disney Channel show. Wow!

Turns out they’re actually greeting their alternate son named Curtis (Played by Chris Marquette, who you’ve definitely seen in a zillion other things) and he's the polar opposite of Louis. He’s a perfect student and top-tier athlete... But, there’s one little catch -- he’s a complete and total demon child. And no, not the “Louis Stevens” brand of demon child but literally “The Omen” brand of demon child. He is a nightmare. Curtis tells the family that he was voted “Best All Around Student of All Time” by the school board which is definitely not a real award. Louis feels like a loser and a letdown to his family in comparison. 

Remember that happy family photo they made sure to show us earlier? Well, now we get this alternate dimension Stevens family portrait in contrast: 

Yeah. Not as happy. 

Louis is sitting on the stairs gazing at the portrait when Bubbe Rose randomly appears on his lap. (“AGHHHHH! Can you stop with these landings?!” haha!) At first, Louis thinks his family would be 100x better without him. Like, he actually looks at that portrait and believes that they look so much happier, which is obviously supposed to be a joke lol. He hates what the magical journey has taught him and makes sure Bubbe Rose knows: 

We go on to learn that Louis' absence has somehow thrown off every member of the family and their personalities. Ren's an edgy, messy, wild punk chick with a boyfriend named Spider. Donnie's a "wuss" (Louis' words) whose only accomplishment and prized possession is a tiny trophy he won for a 1st-grade spelling bee (His winning word was "Ride: R-I-D-Silent E,” which he frantically repeats to himself for comfort whenever he feels dumb.) Louis is just sitting in Ren’s room observing this warped iteration of the Stevens family when Curtis walks in and berates Ren and Donnie for talking so loudly while he’s studying. Suddenly, Bubbe Rose discreetly appears and softly kisses Louis on the head, magically making him visible to everyone now. Curtis tells Ren and Donnie to get rid of him and Louis is so confused. Oh, man. It gets hilarious now. 

Ren and Donnie are all like ‘who the hell are you?’ Louis insists “No, you can’t see me I’m invisible” lol. When that doesn’t work, he scrambles to come up with an identity. ("I’m Louis Steve-o-saurus... And I’m a foreign exchange student from Pennsylvania.”) I love how that’s a good enough explanation for Alternate Ren and Donnie. They just accept the fact that this random kid they don’t know appeared out of thin air in their house. Louis says “your brother’s a creep” and that’s all it takes to set off a heart-to-heart convo. 

Punk Ren is actually kinda great. 

They sit down and tell him "You have no idea what it's like to be related to someone who's perfect at everything they do" -- Obviously, this is not true and Louis knows all too well. He relates and explains that you have to "focus on your own good qualities" to deal with it. You can tell that he’s teaching himself the lesson as much as he’s teaching it to them.  

It cuts to Alternate Ren and Donnie heading downstairs to ask Eileen and Steve if they can have a friend come over for Hanukkah dinner. Louis quietly follows them down to the kitchen and interjects “Uh.. Hi, there!” from the doorway. Steve turns around and shouts “WHO.. WHO’S THAT?!?!” so loudly. Tom Virtue is always so extra, I love it. This brings us to one of my favorite scenes in the entire series. Good lord, I love this so much: 

"I mean, I have a family. It's just, we don't... celebrate........ dinner.”

Things go from 0 to 100 after Louis offers to put their chicken in the oven and accidentally drops it. The entire family starts dying laughing because they never have any sort of fun thanks to overbearing, controlling psycho Curtis. It’s hysterical to me. When he first drops it, the silence that follows cracks me up. Then I laugh even harder when he purposely drops it a second time. It’s so good. I feel like Shia is just going to town with the whole dancing chicken thing. (“IT’S FREESTYLIN’!!!!!”) He goes on to put the chicken on his head and it’s great because the thing is obviously hollow and rubber lol. Can you imagine if a stranger actually did this, though?! That’s what makes it so freaking funny. If a random kid came into my house, dropped my chicken, put his hands all over it and proceeded to put it on his head and dance around after knowing me for a grand total of 30 seconds... I’d call the police so quick.

Curtis sees them having a good time and can’t stand it. He decides to frame Louis for stealing the family’s Hanukkah money. Ugh. Curtis interrupts the chicken train dance Louis is leading (see cover photo) and announces “someone has pilfered the Hanukkah money!” Donnie rejoices (much like in The Even Stevens Movie after they’re told they’ve been shunned lol) and Curtis clarifies “That means it’s STOLEN, PEBBLE-BRAIN!” Which is so mean, but so funny to me. 

The family goes over to the coat rack/table in the hallway where Steve left the envelope of money. Curtis helps him look and immediately “finds it” in Louis’ coat pocket. Wowww. He says “He’s a bad man, Mom,” like a little innocent baby before turning into a possessed devil child behind everyone’s backs. This kid is seriously so evil. 

This dramatic shot is accompanied by sinister music. Actually, dark/disturbing music plays whenever Curtis is on screen. It’s pretty funny.

The family starts interrogating Louis and he explains “I didn’t wanna steal any presents! I just wanted to be with you guys, my family.” And Steve goes OFFFFFF! “WHAT?! You come here and dance with our chicken and suddenly you're family?!" HAHAHAHAHA. Curtis has the phone ready to call the police -- took ‘em long enough! The family surrounds Louis and holds him down. Louis asks for Bubbe Rose to rescue him, but when that doesn’t work he clicks his heels together and chants “There’s no place like home.” Once again, an incredibly solid pop culture reference! It’s not a very original reference to make, but still! This show made a lot of timeless writing decisions and I can’t get over it. Sort of like Ren at the end of “Influenza,” Louis screams at the top of his lungs and wakes up back in the right universe, lol. 

The back-to-normal Stevens family decide that Hanukkah isn’t nearly as fun without Louis and un-ground him. They all head downstairs to light the menorah and sing a traditional song. Yay! It’s heartwarming.

Also like “Influenza,” it turns out that it was all a dream! OR WAS IT....?! Bubbe Rose makes an ACTUAL public appearance that night bearing magically repaired gifts! Whooaaaaaa! She pretends to be some random lady who was jogging by their house and noticed perfectly fine gifts in the trash. The family is shocked that everything is back in mint condition! And just like that, Bubbe Rose disappears and leaves them wondering how in the heck.....?! Bubbe reappears outside the kitchen window and shares a hush-hush lil moment with Louis. Awww. 

And that’s it!

This is such a cute episode. The “It’s A Wonderful Life” trope has been used to death in TV and film, but I really like how it was done here. You can always count on Even Stevens to bring its own unique flavor to anything. It works perfectly here because it organically continues the Louis narrative of him feeling like an outsider in his family. I love to see consistency like that. It also shows just how unique and important Louis really is to his family and their happiness. Although this is a “holiday special” episode, it still manages to feel like regular one to an extent and I love that. It’s a super engaging story full of heart and laughs. That chicken scene tho... Oh man. 

Also! In the end credits, they wrote “Bubbie Rose” with an ie, but I looked it up and the traditional way to spell it is “Bubbe” apparently. So, that’s what I went with! 

This episode’s Redbubble design is of Louis yelling the infamous boobie quote comic book style lol. This actually inadvertently makes a fantastic thank you note/greeting card and is available here. HAHA! I tried to stay true to the show’s color scheme of green/blue/purple as well. 

Thanks for reading!! 

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#rank #even stevens #season 1 #heck of a hanukkah #louis stevens #shia labeouf #ren stevens #christy carlson romano #disney channel #old disney #zoog disney #chris marquette #donna pescow #tom virtue #donnie stevens #comedy #tv #tv shows #tv review #review #early 2000s #nostalgia #90s kids #mirror talk #reviewed

[sparda3g]

Kingdom Chapter 569 Review

Hara must be a fan of cliffhanger endings. Before his break, he ended on a cliffhanger. Before the holiday break, he ended on, you guessed it, a cliffhanger; literally no less. At last, we return to the normal routine (until he takes a break that is). After intense moments, we are left hanging (haha…) with Bajio’s leap of faith. Hara doesn’t disappoint when it comes to the follow-up and this chapter is no exception. It was a thrilling chapter that had me shaking with fear and excitement, and it ended on, once again, a cliffhanger. And I’m not complaining.

Bajio was last seen jumping off the cliff while holding Yotanwa. If you guessed that he will jump off and land on the ground below, then you are wrong. The answer is he lands on the other side of the mountain. That really happened. The man is a monster. I have to admit, I laughed at the Quanrong Army’s reactions toward his suicidal jump, because it’s similar to mine. I didn’t even think of that possibility, but hell, he did it. I also laughed how some are asking to try to do it as well, but like hell they would. I probably choke if someone seriously try and fail though.

It’s kind of funny to follow their point of view. They are scanning the view to see if they have survived. They finally determined that they did and everyone is shocked. Seriously, they should have try to jump; it would be hysterical. Unfortunately, my fun ends since they have a bridge on the east side to cross that would lead them to their location. It’s bad enough that they won’t bother to sound the horn for reinforcements that could have alerted others as well. In other words, Bajio and Yotanwa are all alone.

I appreciate a page of the landscape view to give us the terrified sensation of where they are at. It’s dark, filled with trees to limit the space, and it’s only those two that must fight to survive. They have a sit down or lay down chat as they rest. This is the defining moment between the two. On one hand, it’s a nice discussion that shows the emotional side of Bajio. On the other hand, it gives me a really bad feeling for what’s to come.

It’s probably the first time we have seen them interact like friends rather than fighters. Granted, they do talk about their time in combat from the past like fighters, but they speak in your daily friendly manner. How much hell it was to take down the Three-Eye Tribe, how Bajio got lost in the midst of combat, and how Yotanwa was surrounded by hundreds of enemy. I had a bad flashback to when Shin lost his friend before sleeping. Aside from that, it was comforting to hear their history.

Despite all the moments where they were on a brick of losing, the strongest fighter to her is none other than Bajio. She hit the soft spot really good. He doesn’t want to acknowledge it for he thought that time where they fought wasn’t him. He was not human as Yotanwa more or less teases him. It’s rare to see Bajio being sincere, so this moved me.

What also moved me is Yotanwa’s somewhat apologetic words. If she didn’t go for the meeting in the Rita Mountains, she wouldn’t have become King of the Mountains. Most importantly, if he hadn’t met her, he wouldn’t have shed so much blood of his own. That’s seriously sweet. I also like how she uses her cloth to suppress his wounds. She is just fantastic. Her words, bravery, and skills are among the best classman you can ask for.

It leaves one question remain: what oath did Bajio create with Yotanwa? She doesn’t recall anything, so it was his self-made oath. He will tell her everything; that is if they survive the next onslaught. I got chills when the Quanrong Army arrived; Bajio left nothing but death flags. Make no mistake. It’s a hell of a setup for a grueling survivor scenario, but I seriously don’t want him to die. The series didn’t leave a pattern to know that a character will live, so this has me emotionally invested. From there on, it becomes an enticing, thrilling, and unnerving action-packed ride.

It’s as brutal as you can expect. Crap load of dismemberments, bloody hell mess, and downright impressive performance from those two. It’s unreal how those two are handicapped from all the injuries, yet still pull off a fighting will to escape. It added more with Rozo King indirectly hyped them to be more than human if they fight with those injuries. Like that one man said, “After that jump, I’m not even surprised anymore.” Sadly, it motivated the Quanrong Army to no longer hold back, and go all out to kill Bajio and capture Yotanwa.

They send out more men to block their path as well as sending message for reinforcements without sounding the horn. Damn, why the bad guys are smart in this series? My worries rapidly grows the more Bajio takes the beating. My head keeps on ringing, “His time is up. His time is up. His time is up.” Yotanwa gets punched right in the face hard. I cringed seeing that. It’s still unreal to see her getting pummeled. She tried to continue fighting, but the number game overwhelmed her. She gets knocked out, the army carries her away, and Bajio stares in agony.

There’s a flashback when Bajio’s life changed with his bout against Yotanwa back in childhood. It’s the extended version of what was shown already, but for all the right reason. Not only we got to relive the moment that changed him forever, but we got the valid reason why. She didn’t come across as a tyrant to enslave him, rather gave him an opportunity to live as a human. She was never the monster that would take anyone as her slave. She treated them like family. Bajio’s tears got me. I love these characters.

Bajio goes berserk, which got me hyped. It also got me worried. This looks to be his swan song; his final moment. We actually got to see his eye for the first time. That’s like an omen that he has reached his end when you see something that you don’t see every day. He’s on his last stand. I pray to God for a fictional character to live. The next chapter will be a breath-taking one; I just know it. This chapter, however, doesn’t end there.

The Chieftains and their men are gathering up for the sunrise; just as Yotanwa planned. The one piece that was left out was the rendezvous point. Where exactly do they need to go to? One believed their task is to meetup with her by the sunrise; however, that’s not the plan. In fact, she never intended to have her as the prominent factor of winning the battle. The rendezvous point is the Quanrong City. I marked out.

When I saw Enpo, I was going bananas from excitement. I know it’s among the fans’ prediction and it’s the most likely scenario, but after brutal hardships, this is very welcoming. What makes it even greater is that Yotanwa knew she’s the perfect bait, which explains all of her action. She’s fine to take on hundreds or thousands of men alone; as long as her men wins the battle, she will be pleased. Thankfully, Enpo sees a chance to win her for he will have his Enshu Tribe to climb the wall and capture the city. I can’t help but hear Game of Thrones theme playing during the scene. Anyway, this make sense to use his tribe for this task. Great stuff!

The presentation is pretty stellar and rightfully so. I grasped the emotions from Yotanwa and Bajio’s words. Not to mention, I was awed by Bajio’s sentimental side, especially his childhood. I can’t see his face, but you can sense his emotions. The raw action was gruesome, the sequence got me thrilled, and the last stand got me praying. The setting added more to the grueling atmosphere. Still praying as we speak.

This was a hell of a chapter of survival. The calming portion was relaxing and very nice. The action was intense and brutal; some parts I thought I would never see actually happened. The presentation is stellar as said before with the intensity and climatic struggle to survive. The ending got me hyped for Yotanwa’s victory is near. Hell, it actually ended on a cliffhanger when you think about it. Clever. Bajio was undoubtedly MVP. So please, let him continue to live.

#kingdom #chapter 569 #review

[paranormalhousewife]

Right after our Thanksgiving meal I became really sick. I was having a constant headache, dizziness, and my ears felt extremely stuffed. I was miserable. I ended up going to Naval for it. Because it had been a few weeks since I had been to Naval, my doctor had changed again. The doctor diagnosed me with jet lag, double ear infection, and allergies before giving me a general exam. During the exam she noticed the thyroid area of my neck seemed swollen. I told her I had been having short lasting pains in that area that felt like it was snagged on something but went away within a few seconds if I rubbed the area. She said that it was probably just me being sick but she was going to schedule an ultrasound out in town for me. I wasn’t nervous for the ultrasound. I had had them a few times before just to check up on my thyroid since I was diagnosed. I figured that this would be a quick procedure and that hopefully nothing would be found.

Since the appointment was out in town, Navel arranged for a translator and driver. They were both really sweet and it was a quick 20 minute drive to the Nishiki Hospital. The hospital was a little run down compared to other hospitals I had been to. It was very dark with tiny hallways and tiny rooms. If you have every seen a Japanese horror movie, you’ve basically seen this hospital. It was creeping me out a little.

In Japan when you have an appointment for the doctor, its kind of a suggested time. Just because my appointment was at 1:30pm, I wasn’t seen until almost 3pm. I had brought The Girl On The Train to read while I waited. When they finally called me and the translator back they lead us to a small room that was barely big enough for the bed and the ultrasound equipment let alone the nurse, the translator and myself. The translator told me to take off my shirt (thank goodness I thought ahead and worn a tank top under my shirt) and to put my things in a basket by the door and to remove my shoes. Then I was told to lay back on the bed by the nurse. The nurse covered me in a blanket and left the room. The doctor came in with two nurses about 20 minutes later. One nurse put a tube shaped pillow under my shoulders while the other lowered the head of the bed until I felt like I was going to start sliding head first onto the floor. Then the doctor started doing the ultrasound. For the most part it felt like any other time I had been for an ultrasound of my thyroid. Then I heard her move the screen away from me so I couldn’t see and then set down the equipment. She walked out of the room for a moment. Thinking it was over I tried to sit. One of the nurse said something in Japanese pushed me back down. The doctor came back a moment later with another nurse or doctor. She started the ultrasound over again while talking in Japanese to the other person and pointing at the screen. I couldn’t understand anything except the word cancer. It’s the same in English as it is in Japanese. Again she set down the equipment and they both walked out. I asked the translator what they were talking about and she said the doctor wasn’t done yet. The doctor then returned with another nurse or doctor and repeated the same thing again. This time I heard the word cancer three times. Then the doctor started talking to the translator in Japanese. I heard the word cancer a few more times. After the doctor left with all the nurses the translator told me that the doctor had found three nodules on my thyroid and wanted to have them biopsied as soon as possible. I asked the translator what the doctor was saying about cancer and she just shushed me and said “I don’t think its anything” and wouldn’t say anything else.

At this point I was starting to get nervous. I’ve had a nodule biopsied before but when my doctor had done it before I wasn’t really concerned that it was cancer because of how he handled it. Now after hearing four different people look at my ultrasound and hearing the word cancer repeatedly I thought I might have thyroid cancer.

Since the ultrasound was done a few days before Christmas the doctor couldn’t see me again for the biopsy until two days after Christmas. So I spent my Christmas wondering if I had thyroid cancer. Jeremy was able to go with me to for the biopsy. Again we met the translator and driver at Naval to drive over to the Nishiki Hospital. While we were waiting, the driver came running inside Naval with a huge smile on his face and telling us in Japanese to come outside quickly. Outside was the biggest, most perfect rainbow I have ever seen before. The translator said that it was a good omen. I felt like it was a sign from my dad that he was there with us.

The rainbow followed us all the way to the hospital. I was happy to be able to take a picture of it over our tower as we drove by. It remained on my side of the car for most of the ride. It was so strong and richly colored. The pictures don’t come close to doing it justice. I really felt like Dad sent it. He had been there for my first biopsy and it was comforting to know he was coming with me to my second one.

At the hospital they did the procedure in the same room. It was tight trying to squeeze the doctor, two nurses, the translator, and Jeremy into the tiny room around the bed I laid on. The biopsy itself was over with in less than 10 minutes. After the procedure a nurse led me and Jeremy to a room with three beds crammed into it and told me to rest for 30 minutes to see if I had any problems with the biopsy. A few moments later they brought another Japanese woman in to rest too. A random nurse got mad at Jeremy for standing against the wall and made him sit on the third bed. I don’t know if she thought Jeremy was a patient or not.

Due to a few Japanese holidays and the New Year’s, the doctor wouldn’t be able to see me again until the 13th of January to give me the results. Yep, I was going to have to find out if I had cancer on Friday the 13th. Woohoo.

  Merry Cancermas Right after our Thanksgiving meal I became really sick. I was having a constant headache, dizziness, and my ears felt extremely stuffed.

#Books #Cancer #Christmas #Dad #Driving #Family #Hashimoto&039;s #Health #Healthy #Housing #Japan #Jeremy #Medical #Naval #New Years #Nishiki Hospital #Rainbow #Thyroid