#the same experience just not needlessly exclusive
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You would not believe your eyes
If a hulking red Dhelmise
Went silly mode as you gave it beans
… Basically any Pokémon can be cute under the right circumstances or given the right motivation and there is absolutely nothing that can make me think otherwise. Little guy or perhaps even little fella vibes, just size XXL. I am not biased at all whatsoever in this assessment
#ruthrambles#pkmn irl#rotomblr#anyone want to help me make a place called Calamity Square that definitely isn’t a ripoff of Amity Square#just without the extremely biased and subjective ‘cute Pokémon only` rule probably written by a hater#‘that’s just a park’ no we need to copy the aesthetics exactly#the same experience just not needlessly exclusive#can you tell I am maybe a little bit tired as I am posting this#today has been somewhat of a day#the wild pidove I evicted tried to get back in the house#spent like an hour looking for Cheerio and they were chilling between the couch cushions of all places#the neighbor’s Herdier has decided to bark really loud at night too#part of me wants to teach Lumen hypnosis for situations like this#however comma#the smart part of me recognizes that is probably a very bad idea
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i think if you're scared of bugs and/or spiders and you'd rather not be, learning about and watching jumping spiders is one of the best places to start. they're very sweet, very curious, and very friendly !! they're clever little guys too - i think a lot about that one person who was knitting or crocheting or something and found a little jumping spider on their hand copying them with its silk. they have very good eyesight and are better at detecting patterns than elephants which is so fascinating !! when hunting, they spend a lot of time observing their prey, to determine if it's really prey for instance, and then to memorize its movement patterns and such. (jumping spiders don't build webs to catch prey! they stalk and pounce on it) and they have shown time and time again that they distinctly remember all of the different kinds of bugs they hunt and they remember what works for what and what doesn't. they experiment and learn and show some very amazing cognitive skills!! bugs (spiders aren't bugs but whatever) are usually seen as not having cognitive processes because of how small they are, and how different they are from mammals. but jumping spiders are here to remind us that we can't be so close-minded
like. just an example of how impressive jumping spider cognition is: the genus portia eats almost exclusively other spiders and it tailors its techniques to the specific species it hunts. and like, well just look at this
jumping spiders have also been observed to Plan. rather than charging directly at prey, or just somewhere it wants to go, a jumping spider will sit and observe its surroundings (with its very very very advanced little eyeballs!!) and determine the best possible route to get what it wants, even if it means going the "wrong" way at first. they have little minds and an understanding of the world!! they think - not in exactly the same way humans do, but they aren't mindless. they experience pain just like any other animal, they want to eat well and be hydrated, and they want to be safe and live their tiny little lives.
and this doesn't apply only to jumping spiders. it applies to all bugs and spiders and what have you!!
when it comes to being afraid of bugs, it's really, really important to remember that it's just a little life. it's not any less significant than yours! you don't have to love it, but you should respect it. don't stomp and kill and spray with poison needlessly :( like, it's literally not going to hurt you. it has no interest in hurting you. bugs and spiders are not malicious creatures. they're either terrified of you or they're confused and have no idea what the fuck you are. and are also kind of terrified but as frequently observed with jumping spiders, some species are bold! and curious!
but a bug will never attack you. think about it: they're tiny. defense mechanisms like biting and stinging take a lot of energy and may even result in their own deaths. they aren't interested in dying. they'll only defend themselves if they feel threatened.
every species, every ecosystem, every life plays an important role on this planet. just because you find it easier to relate to a cat than a wasp doesn't make the wasp's life lesser. just because it's easy for you to kill bugs doesn't mean you should. in fact, i think that because it's so easy for us to kill them and destroy their homes it's imperative that we make the effort to be gentle and kind.
if a bug is in your home... so what? is it actively causing you harm or is it just hanging out in a corner somewhere? because 80% of the time it's going to be the latter, not the former. but if its presence is really bothering you or if it's like, a black widow trying to make your bedroom her new house, is... killing it really your best choice? grab a cup, grab a piece of paper, and move it outside. i understand that getting close enough to catch a bug when you're afraid of it is hard but i don't think it's fair to just kill it. would you kill a cat that wandered onto your porch or something ?? no?? why is it different for a bug :(
our world is a beautiful place and we coexist alongside some amazing species. take a little time to try and respect all of them 🫶🏾 no love necessary! just respect!! but you'll notice that things aren't as lonely and disconnected when you start to value the little lives, too
#i get very emotional over this :(( it's so common to be cruel to bugs and it makes me so so so so sad#be nice to everything please.........
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[William Blake :: Song of Loss]
* * * * *
Good Grief
by Adam Phillips
From a symposium on the topic of loss, which was published in the Spring 2023 issue of The Threepenny Review.
The cult of loss has many enthusiastic members. And as with any cult, critics tend to be demonized or ignored, if only for using the word “cult” about a group of committed, like-minded people. Emerson was never celebrated, or even really engaged with, for writing, after his son’s death, “The only thing grief has taught me is to know how shallow it is.”
It can seem astoundingly callous not to take seriously the scale of loss. It is as though transience and deprivation define us, and so anyone challenging our being bewitched by the idea of loss, our wish to apply it everywhere, our wish to use it to explain everything (aging as the loss of youth, illness as the loss of health, madness as the loss of sanity, evil as the absence of good, and so on), is likely to be deemed merely out of touch with reality, or needlessly provocative. Mourning seems to be our universal religion.
But if we are essentially elegiac creatures—obsessed only with what we have lost, or can or will lose—we should note that no other animal seems to be similarly stricken. Clearly animals feel loss: we witness something happening to them when they are sick, or when a fellow creature dies. But they seem to live as though survival is their thing, rather than loss.
It is language, acculturation, that has given us loss and its elaboration. Just to use a word is to acknowledge the absence of its referent, as though language itself makes loss our theme and medium. Words are always a mourning, however blithe, for what they represent. And by the same token, language as our second nature makes it difficult to work out what loss may be a way of thinking about—other, that is, than loss itself. It is not obvious what we are using the idea and the experience of loss to do for ourselves, and whether this essential perplexity gets us the lives we want. What else could a good or viable life be preoccupied with? What might we be interested in, if we were not so interested in loss? Can loss be redescribed in any genuinely useful way, or is it simply our fate as mortal, dependent, and occasionally rational animals to see everything we do as somehow organized around loss, or the anticipation of it?
When Robert Hass began his great poem “Meditation at Lagunitas” with the lines “All the new thinking is about loss. / In this it resembles all the old thinking,” it seemed at once incontestable but also strangely dismaying. All experiment and curiosity and unpredictability and improvisation and complexity collapse in the wake of loss. This, we might think, is essentialism at its most extreme. This is what it is like to be the emperor of one idea. This is what it is like to live in a cult.
Childhood, for Freud, was primarily, if not exclusively, an initiation into loss. What is called development is what we can make out of loss. So when Freud famously described, in Beyond the Pleasure Principle, what became known as the fort/da game of his grandson—in which the child threw a wooden toy on a string away from himself and then retrieved it, uttering as he did so infantile versions of “Fort!” (gone) and “Da!” (there)—Freud took it that the game was a way of mastering his mother’s absences, by repeating the traumatic experience symbolically. What he has had to suffer passively, he made into a game that he could actively control. This, Freud suggested, is what we all do. This is even how culture works for us, what culture is for—to master loss. Whether or not the child is mastering loss, he has certainly redescribed his experience of his mother’s inevitable intermittent absences. Is it now a loss or a game?
Loss may be the very thing we need to find ways of transforming, to prompt our inventiveness. We might become less terrorized by it, and so less obsessed and impressed by it. We might then be able to understand and use Picasso’s wonderful boast, “I do not seek, I find.” Finding would be the point, and not losing. Loss would no longer be, as it were, an end in itself. When loss is not catastrophic loss, it is a form of stage fright.
[from Harpers]
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I just realized there's no term for being critical of the endogenic community – keyword being community and not individuals. It's why the discourse around anti-endo as a term baffles me, and I think there should be a conversation about it.
Personally, I believe you can't really criticize someone's personality traits, reported experiences, or identity unless it's something harmful like trans-abuser or trans-nazi or whatever nonsense 4chan has whipped up. I don't believe endogenic systems are a harmful identity by the nature of their existence– a system friend of ours considers themselves endogenic to some degree and it's hardly an issue for general social interactions. They're not innately compelled to spread misinformation about my disorder or demean me at every turn or scream at me about how I'm a filthy exclusionist medicalist bootlicker, because being endogenic doesn't automatically mean being hateful. So, I don't believe there should be a term for being anti-someone's-harmless-identity. It appears the endogenic community agrees with this, and this is the reasoning they use to declare those with the label "anti-endo" exclusionists at best and a hate group at worst.
Despite claims of the contrary, however, there's a sizable portion of self-proclaimed anti-endos who believe that endogenic systems exist and do not oppose their identity. They instead use the term as shorthand for "endogenic-community-criticial", which is a mouthful to say the least. While I personally am syscourse unaligned, I've seen a sizable portion of endogenic systems engaging in rather upsetting behavior. Some aspects of this behavior are sometimes mirrored in traumagenic spaces, but there are some acts that appear to be exclusive to endos. This includes doubting the validity of DID studies and diagnostic criteria, miscategorizing the disorder, engaging in sociological analysis of mental disorders that greatly misses the mark and ends up boiling down to "adhd is fake, society is just mean", as well as inadvertently – or intentionally – claiming trauma responses are natural behavior that's needlessly pathologized in modern society, a baseless claim. There is also a problem of endogenic systems sending asks encouraging people to adopt the endogenic label while they're questioning, a behavior that's often criticized as system discovery is a very personal journey. While one can say endogenic systems are not all like this, or that traumagenic systems do the same (or worse), it is still a characteristic that's worthy of critique. Just because other people did a bad elsewhere doesn't mean that the bad that occured here is no longer relevant. I believe critique is healthy for any community, endogenic or traumagenic, in reasonable doses, as without it a space for meaningful dialogue can devolve into a hugbox where bad actors thrive.
This is where the discourse around the term anti-endo muddies things. There has become a severe lack of dialogue about the term where everyone's seemingly internalized a different definition, and that's resulted in people making reactionary responses that are either "bigot" or "harasser" or "why would you call yourself that if you believe in endogenic systems then?? dogwhistle spotted!!". This has resulted in people ignoring the real issue where there's no term for the position of being against the unsavory behaviors that are often present in endogenic community circles, and so people return to "anti-endo" as it's the only term that's not neutral on the endogenic community by default, and the user ends up being labeled a "sysmed" (a term I can go on about for a very long time for reasons that aren't what you're thinking of 💢) which drives them even further away from accepting endogenic systems. One can argue that endos are not obligated to be kind to "the other side", but I'd argue this isn't the US two party system. There's no need for an Us vs Them here.
If the syscourse around the term continues to be as messy as it currently is, I worry there may be never a term for the system position of simply wanting to hold select individuals who happen to be endogenics accountable for behaviors that are improper for a system of any origin, but spread noticeably faster in endogenic spaces due to the uncritically accepting nature of the community and the insistence on not being combative whatsoever unless it's against those who are on the enemy side.
Addendum; syscourse unaligned is the label I use purely because of how muddy the anti-endo term is and how it could be misconstrued pretty aggressively into painting me as some ghastly ableist, but I've been called a sysmed for being vocally critical of behaviors by the endogenic community (namely the "going on anon to tell a questioning system they're endogenic actually while that system is experiencing crisis", questioning the qualifications of pluralpedia editors after noticing some users were pro-para and pursuing children as young as 5, and being uncomfortable with tulpamancy practices due to religious trauma) despite me not, at all, fitting the label. However, I don't believe syscourse unaligned is a suitable replacement, as it could eventually become as muddy as anti-endo once more people with more varied views adopt it, leading to black-and-white splitting of those identifying as the term just like with anti-endo and to some extent, the term endogenic itself. A lot of the judgements on anti-endo as a term, and endogenic as a term tend to come from personal experiences, these judgments are then shared and amplified and become the common interpretation for a set group of people.
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I feel like while I can understand being cynical about the way many companies, corporations, and just media in general in recent times use diversity and whatnot. But with that said, I think one needs to be careful about being needlessly cynical or extending that cynicism into having a kneejerk reaction about any time one sees a minority on the screen.
Even if your politics are to the left of people who genuinely can't stand when there's minorities on screen, when one's not careful one can fall into a same or similar mindset to said people that makes one think that any inclusion of a minority or any instance of a lesser represented demographic has some ulterior motive behind it worth having a negative reaction over. I've seen this more with well meaning self described progressive liberals in my experience, mainly but not exclusively white ones, but that doesn't mean those on the left can't and don't do it as well.
One should take things in good faith until there's sufficient proof or reasoning to do otherwise, not go "Oh, this gay or black person is surely here for nefarious purposes" on sheer impulse.
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GIGLI- 2003 ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
One of the greatest movies of all time.
Gigli (rhymes with really) is a gangster/debt collector with a "heart of gold". He works for mob boss Lewis who tells him to abduct Brian, the mentally challenged brother of a federal prosecutor in order to blackmail him into dropping charges...
Things are complicated when Lewis hires another contractor to watch Gigli and Brian.
The contractor is Ricky (Jennifer Lopez), shes as beautiful as she is annoying. She almost exclusively talks in monologues. She never does anything physical in the movie but talks a good game. She says thats she knows a move where she gouges your eyes and takes your memories.
Naturally, Gigli is keen to bang her but surprise surprise.... shes a lesbian. Thankfully thats never stopped Ben Affleck and he proceeds to woo her....
Also, Gigli might be gay.
As Gigli and Ricky grow closer with Brian, the baywatch loving, mentally challenged guy they abducted, they start to have a crisis of conscience and consider starting a new life....
Gigli is one of the biggest box office bombs ever and is widely considered one of the worst movies ever made. How did the film turn out this bad exactly?
Some of the blame has to fall on Martin Brest who wrote and directed this. Unlike a lot of movies this bad, the director actually has a lot of experience. He directed Beverly Hills Cop, Midnight Run and Scent of a woman. After the release of Gigli he completely disappeared from the film industry and i wasnt able to find any comments from him about this film.
Another problem was that it was written as more serious and Sony wanted to cash in on the stars and made it more like a romcom against Martin Brest's wishes.
The budget for Gigli was 75 million dollars which seems impossible as most of it takes place in Larrys apartment, a whopping 52 mins of the runtime take place in there. Affleck and Lopez' combined salary added up to about 25 million dollars but i cant understand where the rest of the money went.
Christopher Walken and Al Pacino both appear in a scene each. Its hard to say which is stranger. Pacino is dressed as Tony Stark playing a character called Starkman who rambles incoherently about whether a thumb is a finger. Walken wants to get a big bowl of pie, some ice cream, put some on his head, his tongue will slap his brains out trying to get to it.
Mmmmmm good, interested?
With the exception of Ricky, Gigli, Brian and Lewis, every other character in the movie appears for only one scene, does something insane and then we never see them again.
Giglis mother invites him over to inject medicine into her ass. When he gets there she is wearing a pink thong and tries to bang Ricky.
Ricky's ex turns up at the apartment in a rage, tries to initiate a three way, fails, and then slits her wrists. Then they just disappear like nothing ever happened.
Part of what makes this movie so funny is how many awful lines theyre are. Everyone talks so crazy its unreal. Like when Ricky wants Gigli to go down on her:
Gigli was the first film to sweep the top five categories at the Razzies and was destroyed by critics everywhere. It doesnt seem to have found an audience the same way Troll 2 and The Room have but its one of my favourite movies of that kind. Its so needlessly offensive/very dated and at points it goes so off the rails you cant believe what youre watching. An essential watch.
One of my favourite movies.
#gigli#movie#film#movie review#2000s movie#so bad its good#box office bomb#cult movie#martin brest#ben affleck#jennifer lopez#jlo#christopher walken#al pacino#justin bartha
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3 for Kynan, 12 for Cass and Kaylie? NPC hour letsgoo
I will be absolutely honest I don't really think that much about Kynan or Kaylie. So. This'll be a challenge.
Kynan - 3: Drinking headcanon
This boy doesn't drink. He doesn't. He has had maybe a mug or two of ale in all his life, and that more because it was given to him than because he chose it. He grew up with an angry, aggressive father, and I don't doubt that was worse if his father had been drinking: I think there's some chance he's afraid of how he might act without that control.
I think he has maybe a sip or two on a special occasion, when a glass or a tankard has been thrust into his hand, but I think he largely prefers not to drink at all. The guards he works with tease him over that a little, especially as he becomes more significant, mostly to suggest that he's always on the job - but he kind of thinks he is, really. Vax'ildan asked him to keep an eye on things and after Vax is gone... well, he's not going to let him down.
So yeah, I don't think Kynan really drinks much.
Cass & Kaylie - 12: Friendship headcanon
In short, I don't think these two would be friends. They barely had cause to interact in canon and when they were briefly around each other Cass had work and was still (not) dealing with the fallout of the Briarwoods stuff. And, not unlike her father, Kaylie is quite a brash person, bold and also a bit more abrasive; I think she'd rub Cass the wrong way, especially in so immediate an aftermath of everything and with so much on her plate. I don't think they really had much time to get to know each other before Scanlan's departure and I don't think they necessarily cared to get to know each other either. Kaylie may well have thought her proud and a bit up herself and Cass thought her needlessly crude and abrasive - and the end result is, I think they largely brushed by each other.
They might come to get to know each other a little better in the years after Vecna, at Vox Machina and I could see them being passingly friendly with each other, but I don't know that they'd ever necessarily see each other as friends.
Independently, however...
All of Cass' friends from before the Briarwoods are likely dead. Given everything that happened during the occupation too, I imagine she's very hesitant to make new friends for a long time - she doesn't want to be turned against them, doesn't want to lose them and while it's a relief to have her brother back it's also frustrating that he's not there to help. I think the people Cass is most likely to first call friends are actually some of her personal household - her maid, her secretary, her personal guard, etc. - because they're people she sees every day and comes to trust through sheer exposure and experience. Later, after Vecna and with help healing, I think she considers Vex a friend, and perhaps also Pike and Keyleth. I think she has a correspondence with Allura and Kima and perhaps also Assum - I can see her liking him. I think, in time, she's known for having very exclusive tea parties with people she considers friends and potential friends - but I think also that that number remains small for the rest of her life. She's friendly with many - but only considers a few genuine friends.
Kaylie meanwhile I think is kind of the opposite end of the same spectrum, if that makes sense. I think she makes "friends" easily, which is to say she's fantastic at cosying up to people once she knows what makes them tick, can be as irrepressibly and borderline irritatingly charming as her father and can be just as persistent. There are a lot of people who think of her in friendly terms or who consider her a friend. But, in similar terms to Cassandra, I think she rarely actually considers them friends. She knows better than to get attached to people - she saw what it did to her mother regarding Scanlan, she's seen it happen travelling with Dranzel's troupe, she doesn't want to get attached because she knows it hurts. And... she's also very unlikely to show how much she cares except in gruff, abrupt, ways from which she can easily turn back into her more casual self: when she cares she cares strongly, but she'll rarely show it for a long time.
The education Scanlan pays for for her helps. Spending time around other bards who have much the same habits as her helps her to understand herself better through the lens of them, and I think she ends up with a small, tight-knit band of boisterous friends with whom she feels safe being absolutely insulting - but also absolutely vulnerable, safe in the knowledge that they all know where the line is.
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anywayyyy it's been a while since i got on here to complain about work and i'm HOPEFULLY gonna get a new job soon so time to bitch <3
i'm gonna be stating my reason for leaving as just wanting to move out of general practice and into emergency/specialty but in reality that's only like. 4% of the problem and there's like sixty other things pissing me off right now.
we lost our last actual doctor and are now relying exclusively on travelling vets, so i'm our ONLY full time provider at the moment and you know what? fucking corporate won't even let me have a dedicated assistant to help with my appointments, i have to fucking steal someone from the vet(s) who are working that day every time i have an appointment. i can't have a dedicated assistant for myself unless i meet a certain goal for average profit per appointment :))))) and it's so fucking ridiculous. i'm just expected to get my patients in and out efficiently despite having to wait for someone to be available to safely restrain them for me. no doctor would be expected to see patients without someone to assist and i don't see why i should have to just because i'm a tech. if i'm seeing patients i should have someone to assist me with those patients, period.
AND that shitty coworker who i've been forced to train still hasn't quit despite having a tantrum in which she threatened to do so. Instead, she's been BLATANTLY using surgery training as a means to dodge her other responsibilities. like she's just been shadowing me in surgery while CONSTANTLY TALKING ABOUT HOW HER MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES WILL PREVENT HER FROM ACTUALLY MONITORING SURGERY HERSELF. like jfc stop wasting my time then!! and she's frequently passive-aggressive when i ask her to do her job. i'm having flashbacks to my old wildlife rehab coworker who would go out on all the animal rescues just to get out of feeding/cleaning duties and wouldn't be of any help on the rescue. she's also been calling out sick on the reg lately which honestly is a blessing. it lowers my blood pressure lmao and for some strange reason her calling out doesn't put us behind. like at all. it's almost as if she spends the majority of her workday dicking around and trying to look busy and wasting my fucking time, hmmm.
on top of it all, corporate implemented this "levelling' system where you take an online test to "level up" in your role, making you eligible for a raise. sounds good on the surface, but it also caps your pay at a certain amount depending on your "level." and the tests need to be done on the clock...somehow...despite the fact that everyone has fucking work to do. AND the tests are needlessly confusing, not sure if it's deliberate or just from sheer incompetence. had one where two of the multiple choice answers were the EXACT SAME, and it was the right answer. so obviously only one of them would ACTUALLY get marked right and guess what? it wasn't the one i chose lmao.
and i know this is a problem pretty much Everywhere and not just at my shitty job, but it REALLY pisses me off when people with no experience get hired at a higher wage than me. that moron i'm training made like $2/hr MORE than me when i first started training her (changed when i got my license and thus got tech pay instead of assistant pay, but still, fucking seriously?).
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a little (just under 2k) playground scene with Lip and Ian as dads, as per @pink--and--white's request. i apologize to all actual parents in advance.
“How the fuck did we get here?” Lip asks through a huff of incredulous laughter.
Ian shades his eyes from the sun, turning to his older brother with a look of mock concern. “Your memory that bad already, old man? We drove here.”
It earns him a stinging smack on his thigh.
“Asshole,” Lip retorts back. “You know what I mean.”
Ian’s eyes flit back to the scene before them. “Yeah, I do,” he confirms a beat later, his voice more earnest this time.
This, by far, isn’t a new feeling. Lip’s had the exact same thought pass through his mind countless times in recent years, always in a momentary flash of warmth that filled up his whole chest. It happens all the more often now over the most mundane shit, though.
The first time was, probably, when Freddie was born. Then Ian got married, and Al came along, and Liam got to a good school—and after that followed every other quiet (not literally) evening when the whole family gathered up in the kitchen.
In those instants, Lip would stall himself for just a second, getting lost in the overwhelming sounds and visuals, and think, what the fuck.
He’s getting soft. That’s it, most likely. He’s getting soft and sentimental, going on with his extremely unexceptional life, wondering how in the hell did a piece of shit like himself get so lucky, and slowly becomes someone he’d gladly punch in the face not too long ago.
It hits him hard again, this strange sense of pride and wonder, as he sits next to his baby brother on a bench overlooking a kids’ playground.
This one’s the real deal. Everything here is child-proof and clean, with no syringe or dogshit in sight. Frank or some random homeless guy aren’t lying in a drunken coma by the swing sets. There’s not even one bullet hole in the slide. And maybe it’s not so hard to admit that this is actually pretty nice. That this is them now.
Still, the whole thing is, without a doubt, totally ridiculous. Here they are, Lip and Ian—the college dropout and the ex-con, the true sons of the South Side—sneakily munching on their kids’ packed afternoon snacks.
“Dumb luck, I guess,” Ian answers Lip’s question after some musing and takes a sip from Toe’s pink-colored juice box.
Lip hmms before he bites into a baby carrot. “For us, or them?”
“For us. Definitely.”
They’re just two regular dads who carry around lunchboxes and always have a wet wipe or a pack of tissues at hand, ready to blow noses and wipe off residue chocolate from chins and hands. There aren’t enough words in the English language that would describe how incredibly ridiculous this is, because once upon a time, not too long ago, still, Ian wore a jumpsuit with Dav on the nametag and believed this was it for him, and Lip thought the only way to get through life was by drinking himself through the ordeal.
How the fuck did they get here?
“Freddie! Hey, Freddie!” Lip calls out to his oldest, who hangs upside down from the monkey bars, effectively ignoring him. “Fred!” he tries again with an annoyed sigh, and the boy finally remembers how his ears work. “Can you help your cousin on the slide?”
“Okay!”
With a swift motion, Freddie pulls himself up again to grab hold of a bar, unhooking his knees in the process, and jumps down into the sand with practiced ease. He then immediately gets into a run, coming behind the red-headed girl in black overalls who’s been trying to climb the gentle ramp on her own.
“What was that about?” Ian inquires amusedly.
“Early puberty, I think. He doesn’t want us to call him Freddie anymore. It’s Fred. No Fredster, no Fredtastic, definitely no Fredosaurus. Just Fred. Apparently, I went to bed, and my son turned into a middle-aged man overnight.”
“Oof. That’s rough.”
“Yeah. The next thing I know, he’s gonna get a neck tattoo and his first STI. Al, buddy!” His younger son Alvin, at least, seems to have no trouble with hearing. “You need help? Want me to push you?”
“No, I’m good!” the blond kid shouts back from the swing, and to prove his point, he pushes himself harder off the ground to gain momentum.
Lip scratches his forehead. “They don’t need me anymore,” he comments darkly. “I am officially a bother.”
“You’ve always been a bother,” Ian notes before he stuffs his mouth full of grapes. “Come on, Lip. Freddie’s eight. He’s not exactly packing his bags to leave home. He’s still very much a daddy’s boy.”
“I don’t know, man. When I remember what I was already doing when I was his age….”
“Yeah, but that’s different. They’re not like us. They don’t need to be, and that’s a good thing.”
Ian’s right, but the concept of normal as something desirable, something he doesn’t necessarily need to rebel against, is something Lip may never fully come to grasps with. And neither does Ian, even if he says otherwise.
“We might be getting a dog,” Lip says after a while, pausing before he sinks his teeth into a cheese stick.
“No way!” Ian smirks at him. “Look at you, perfect American family and shit.”
Lip snorts at that. He and Tami are pretty damn far from perfect. “You not thinking about getting a pet? A friendly rottweiler for Mickey, perhaps?”
“No. First, I gotta talk him into having another kid.”
That takes Lip by surprise. He knows Ian absolutely adores his little girl, his mini ginger twin that everyone got to call Toe, short for Tomato, but he also knows the whole story behind how she came to be.
“Oh, yeah? You’d like another?”
“Yeah,” Ian admits, and as his eyes drop to his lap where his fingers fiddle with a paper straw, Lip realizes he sounds ashamed about it.
“Not as easy as poking holes in condoms with you guys, huh?” he jokes to release the sudden tension.
“Hah. No.”
“You told Mickey yet?”
Meeting his brother’s eyes again, Ian gives a noncommittal shrug. “I hinted.”
From experience, Lip knows that hinting in Ian’s case almost exclusively means Mickey is fully aware of his intentions and just chooses to ignore them before Ian confronts him head-on.
“Hopefully, you’ll have another girl,” he tells Ian after a quiet moment filled with children’s high-pitched screams and the steady screeching of a swing set. “It’s a lot more physical with boys. These two are already fighting like we used to.”
“Doesn’t really matter when you’re raising a Milkovich,” Ian remarks before yelling: “Hey, Toe? You wanna have a sip of your juice for me?”
The girl waves at them eagerly as she slides down the bendy chute. Getting to a run right as her feet touch the ground, she comes to a jolty halt in front of them, taking a good, hard look at the juice box as if only now realizing what’s expected of her.
“No, thank you,” Toe then peeps and skips off again.
“Polite,” Lip appraises.
Ian gives a low chuckle. “Fuckin’ weird, huh?”
“With Mickey as her dad? A little.”
They watch the kids play for a few minutes. Ian offers to exchange a cheese stick for three grapes, and Lip negotiates it up to five before agreeing.
“You think he’d be against it? Having another kid?” he asks Ian mid-chew.
“I mean, I wouldn’t blame him, after all the shit with Terry. Maybe with a second kid, he’d think there’d be twice the damage he could do. Dunno,” Ian surmises uncertainly. “I know how hard it was for him to even want a kid, and I get why he was scared. Don’t get me wrong, I’m shitting myself every day when I think of the ways I could fuck this up. But he’s a great dad. You saw him with Toe. She’s obsessed with him. The way she laughs at everything he says makes you think he invented comedy or something.”
Lip’s aware that their conversation turned sort of serious once again, but he can’t help not breaking into a smile. “Sounds like you’re kinda jealous of your husband there, Ian.”
“Oh, I hate his guts,” his brother confirms, only partially kidding. “I’m a fun dad, too, you know.” As if on cue, a figure coming their way catches his attention, and Ian nods to where his daughter’s playing, telling Lip: “Okay, watch this.”
Mickey gestures at Freddie with a finger to his lips, coming around the slide just in time to catch his daughter in his arms with a victorious roar.
“Daddy!” Toe announces the good news to everyone around with a loud squeal.
Ian gives his brother a pointed look.
“Fuck, man,” Lip huffs with mock seriousness. “You tellin’ me she loves her dad? What a nightmare.”
“Yo, lunch ladies.” Mickey suddenly approaches them with Toe at his hip. “How ’bout less chit-chatting and more kid-watching? Think I’d remember if I left my kid with a giant fuckin’ bruise on her forehead this morning.”
“Yeah. She’s had a bit of a scuffle with Alvin earlier,” Ian says, reaching out to soothingly rub Toe’s calf as if said scuffle and the tears it brought weren’t already long forgotten.
“The hell’s he doin’ fightin’ someone half his size?!”
“She started it!” Lip counters weakly.
“Okay.” Mickey’s mouth hangs open for a minute before he finds his figurative footing again. “I guess she had her reasons for that. And you should teach your kids to not fight dirty.”
“I go play now,” Toe informs him then, putting a stop to his rant and his bad mood in one go.
“Yeah! You do that!” Mickey replies as he puts her down, matching her level of enthusiasm. She heads for the extensive pirate-ship-like construction this time, watchful cousin Freddie already on her heels, and Mickey drops heavily next to his husband, letting out a prolonged groan into his hands.
“Tough day?” Ian asks needlessly.
“Igor’s a fuckin’ idiot.”
“Told you he was.”
“And I agree, so drop it, a’ight? Hey, by the way.”
“Hey,” Ian echoes before they exchange a quick kiss.
Mickey notices the juice in his hands then and perks up. “That raspberry?” he checks after he’s already snagged the box for himself, taking loud slurps from it to get every last drop. He finishes off with a belch. “Fuckin’ love raspberry.”
Lip finds that anything he’d say at that moment would only spoil the natural fucking beauty of it, so he just appreciates with a private snicker.
“Daddy! Daddy!” Toe yells from the top of one of the pirate ship’s smaller slides. “Come play!”
Mickey pats at Ian’s thigh. “That’s on you, man. I’m beat.”
Putting his fun-dad face on, Ian heaves himself up without a complaint. “Hey, jellybean! Do you think your dad can fit on the slide, too?”
Toe shakes her head vehemently, giggling as she watches Ian jog toward her. “No, daddy! No! No!”
“What, you don’t think I can?” Ian asks again, halfway through his climb up on the board. “Well, take off your socks now because they might get blown off! I’mma fit!”
“Daddy!” Toe howls with laughter as he bumps his head on one of the low railings.
Beside Lip, Mickey imitates the reaction, both his hand and the phone he’s holding with it to record a video visibly shaking. When he notices Lip staring, his grin falters a little.
“These two jokers,” Mickey complains after he ends the recording. “She always laughs at everything he does like he invented comedy or some shit.”
Lip answers with a knowing smile, his chest feeling full of warmth.
Seriously, how the fuck did they get here?
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also in general i think the notion that theres intrinsic differences in experience between being a gay man and bisexual or lesbian and bisexual is like. ignorant at best and homophobic/lesbopohobic/biphobic at worst
like yeah there are technical dictionary definitions. this isnt to say "everyones actually the same" or "everyones sexuality is always fluid". but like the reality of it is a lot messier. some people's sexual orientation (or their understanding of it) changes over time. dating multiple genders, having experienced sexual attraction to multiple genders at SOME point (SOME POINT) in your life isnt bi exclusive. having an unhappy relationship with an opposite gender partner because of your sexuality is not gay/lesbian exclusive. all of us experience internalized homophobia. the way i experience bisexuality and the way someone else experiences bisexuality can be wildly unlike one another outside of the basics, and thats normal.
and this isnt even taking any aspect of transness into account like, STRAIGHT trans people can have lived through the same experiences that gay men, lesbians, and bisexuals have and be fully understanding of them. some transmascs feel great commonalities with cis lb women, some transfems feel great commonalities with cis gb men. and many of each dont at all. things dont always fit into neat little boxes.
what unites us all is our divergence from cisheterosexuality by being same gender attracted and/or not cis, etc, and the oppression we face because of it. so like, acting like gay men/lesbians/bisexuals cant POSSIBLY understand you or have as meaningful relations is like, needlessly divisive and just flat out wrong imo. and to be clear this isnt saying "dont call out intracommunity homophobia/biphobia or hold sexuality-specific spaces accountable for it" lol, hopefully what im saying is clear.
#would probably prefer no rebl0gs#and also to be clear if your experience very much does fit into a very neat box thats like. absolutely fine#the point is just that in practice a lot of people's dont
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Someone on Reddit was asking why labels were important and I went into a whole goddamn essay because my Vyvanse is kicking in.
TLDR - Labels are important for communication. Without communication, we are isolated. Sexuality is so fundamental to our experiences as human beings that being able to describe those experiences succinctly can mean the difference between feeling isolated and feeling connected. Also sneering at ace people for microlabels dismisses the asexual experience as so unimportant that we SHOULDN'T be able to describe our exact experience of it, when discussing asexuality often requires these labels because of how varied and complicated the asexual experience is.
I've been waffling on the fence about microlabels but I've decided that no, microlabels aren't overthinking it, for the reasons I discuss below. In the past I've reblogged things saying that microlabels are about isolation instead of connection, that further dividing our sexuality into smaller and smaller boxes creates increasingly exclusive clubs.
I no longer believe that. I believe it does the opposite. I believe that being in touch with your sexuality just as much as you need to helps you connect to others even outside your microlabel, not just within it, because then it makes it clearer to everyone involved what experiences you have in common and makes it easier to set aside the ones you don't.
You don't understand how important labels are until you've struggled without one. It's human nature to use language to describe our experiences, and when we don't have the language to do so it is stressful and isolating. Because language is how we connect to other people, so when we can't use easy language to summarise our experiences, it becomes isolating.
My personal experience - I struggled with my asexuality for years, even before I began to realise that I was asexual. Even once I started letting myself admit it, I didn't feel that the word "asexual" was enough. Sure, I could explain to people "I'm asexual and don't want to have sex, but I love sex in theory and in novels and I love reading about romance and daydreaming about them, but don't want a relationship." That's a very specific type of asexuality that people don't think of when they hear "asexual". People hear "asexual" and think "doesn't like sex."
But people use labels because others don't want to stick around and listen to your dissertation on what your sexuality actually is, they want bite sized information as soon as possible and sometimes YOU want to describe who you are without spending a ton of time explaining it. It's not just because I want to understand myself, it's because I want other people to, too, and labels is how we communicate. It's the fundamentals of how language works. Labels are so important that they consist of two entire grammatical categories - adjectives and nouns.
So when I found out about aegosexuality? I was like "oh thank god, I'm not a broken asexual, I'm this specific TYPE of asexual."
Most people haven't heard of aegosexuality. I used to actually roll my eyes at microlabels like that, thinking it was needlessly self absorbed and pretentious. But now I get it. Now I have the ABILITY to summarise my experiences in one word, and it turns out that having that ability to use language efficiently to describe myself has brought me quite a significant amount of peace. Because when I tell people I'm asexual, they often have a certain idea in their heads of what asexuality is, and I don't fit under most of that. Many asexuals don't, because asexuality is the most complicated sexuality there is.
But god is it fucking exhausting to say "I'm asexual" and then have to hold a fucking Q and A session about how I'm asexual and yes, I really am asexual even though I'm not adhering to someone else's idea of what asexuality is. By knowing I'm aegosexual, I can say, "oh, you're thinking of X type of asexuality, which is when you experience Y. I'm aegosexual, which means that I still get horny and love sex in fiction, but I don't personally want to experience it, unlike X type of sexuality which doesn't like sex at ALL."
And then people get it! They don't get "I'm asexual, but different." That just makes them think I'm not actually asexual, or that I'm an allo in denial who needs therapy to be "fixed". They get "I'm asexual, but this specific type of asexuality that has a name." People respond to names. People respond to labels. They GET labels, even ones they haven't heard of, even ones they roll their eyes at because they think we're over thinking it because they assume that because their sexuality is so fucking simple, everyone else's must be too.
I still tell people I'm asexual because a lot of the time my type of asexuality isn't actually important. Actually, most of the time I tell them I'm queer and leave it vague because queer is a wonderful umbrella word and my sexuality isn't anyone's business. For me, "queer" is often enough because it communicates that my experience isn't a straight one, and that's usually all people need to know.
But having that label just on *hand* that describes my experiences, and having the option to use it to people who do know what it means, and being able to hand it to people who are lost like I used to be lost -
That's powerful. It's important. It *matters*.
It's not like needing a label for yourself because you prefer pineapple on pizza, this is sexuality, this is the kind of thing that makes or breaks your experiences with other human beings. When you're straight your sexuality is so simple and easy that you don't even need to think about it. You're straight. That's easy. And as homosexuality becomes more accepted I'm seeing baby gays start to take that attitude as well because they're gay and as homosexuality becomes less stigmatised, it's allowed to become more simple.
But other sexualities don't have that luxury.
Bisexuality and pansexuality are more complicated because often people experience a split attraction model, or they don't have equal attraction to different genders and they're not fully comfortable describing themselves as bi or pan because again, people hear "bisexual" or "pansexual" and assume that you experience the same amount of attraction to different genders and it's important to be able to communicate to people that no, you don't. The whole point of using a word is so that the other people understand you - if they don't understand the word, they don't understand YOU. So I think bisexuality and pansexuality is also a spectrum in that there's different types of both depending on how your attraction works, and that it would help bi and pan people to have more specific words - using bisexual and pansexual as an umbrella term much like queer and asexual - to allow them to better communicate their experiences.
And asexuality is, I think, the most complicated sexuality of all. It's based not just on who you're attracted to, like other sexualities, but if you're attracted at ALL. No other sexuality has a footnote attached of "but this one likes sex" or "this one doesn't like sex" or "this one is indifferent to sex". Even bisexuality and pansexuality don't. It also has the contradictory feature of involving some level of attraction - demisexuals and grey aces experience attraction! Just only under specific circumstances. The split attraction model is also much more significant; whereas some bisexual people are explicitly homo- or heteroromantic, many asexuals are not aromantic, and many aromantic people are not asexual. This is far more common with us.
It's also the ONLY sexuality where the split attraction communities are actively hostile to each other. Aromantic people have lately been slinging a lot of shit at asexual people because in their need to be told apart from us (I say "us" even though I'm aromantic myself because I'm also asexual), some have gone to the extreme of showing outright hostility to asexual people and show offence for being associated with us at all. When I thought that I was bi, for example, I NEVER saw this kind of shit between homoromantic bis, heteroromantic bis and biromantic bis. Only the asexual and aromantic community has this hostility.
I respect that aros don't want people to mistake them for asexual people and that's important for the same reasons I've been discussing in this entire essay, but here I'm referring to outright hostility aimed AT asexuals because of other people's failures to understand them. "Aromanticism isn't the same as asexuality" is not hostility. Treating asexual people like garbage - or even aroace people because they dare to exist as asexual AND aromantic - is hostility. This hostility is rising.
So asexuality is deeply complicated, and when you have completed concepts, you need simple labels to communicate that. And frankly - allos don't fucking get it. Bi and pan people do to a certain level, but their sexuality, while more complicated than being gay or straight, is still not as complicated as asexuality. That's not a bad thing, having a more complicated sexuality doesn't make us superior, nor is complication the same thing as depth. Other sexualities are not shallow for lacking the same level of complication, nor should they be taken less seriously.
But it does mean each sexuality has nuance to it that you can't understand without being that sexuality, and it's vital not to fall into the same trap straight people do that your experience of sexuality applies to everyone else, of assuming that because your sexuality isn't complicated to you that it must be the same for everyone else or we're overthinking it. And it's important for us to be able to succinctly sum up our sexuality so that we can share our experiences.
People who've never faced that don't understand how important it is to feel connected to people by being able to efficiently describe yourself. To use language is to connect, to use language and labels is to communicate. Without that, it's an isolating experience, simply because people do not fucking want to hear you bring out a PowerPoint presentation to talk about yourself when they just want one word. And when you're talking about something that defines your human experience, that makes your ability to communicate it THE difference between being isolated and disconnected, and feeling human.
Having different levels of labels helps, too. Sure, I'm aegosexual, but even if most people knew what that meant, most of the time it's completely fucking irrelevant. Most of the time all I need to do is say I'm queer - because I'm communicating that my experience isn't a straight one (or a cis one, if you're queer because of your gender). Sometimes I need to say I'm aroace, or just asexual, because that's what the conversation calls for. It's only when discussing asexuality itself that I actually need to say I'm aegosexual - but that's important, too.
Discussion of asexuality is no less important than being able to say I'm ace, or that I'm queer, and a lot of allos think that distinguishing yourself from straight people is important, that distinguishing yourself from non straight people is important, but asexuality itself is so unimportant that we're not allowed to distinguish ourselves among each other. And that's just another form of aphobia. It doesn't mean that we're going "ew, we're not THOSE asexuals" like I've been seeing in the arosexual community lately, it's being able to say "this is my experience of asexuality, so I'm viewing our discussion through THIS lens, whereas you might not."
And it's so fucking typical that allos think that that shouldn't be important to us. I regret ever thinking the same.
At the end of the day, we need language. It describes our experiences, and without being able to describe those experiences, we are isolated. We need language and labels to connect.
#Dusty has opinions#I need to stop talking on the internet when my Vyvanse kicks in#I just don't fucking stop
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@moonbeam-sunbeam (source of screenshot ft. original post - I’m creating a new one because the other one was long and I don’t want to boost OP’s voice again)
I understand where you’re coming from, and when it comes down to the bare bones, I agree: the Gods can’t be defined by human labels. Gods are Gods, not people. They don’t have sexualities, or not in a way that we as human can comprehend, at least - even less in a way that fits neatly into our modern labels. Artemis is not “aroace”, or “lesbian”, or “bisexual”, or “straight”, or any other sexual or romantic identity. She is the Potnia Theron, Lady of what is by definition outside the constructs of our society, and greater than anything our mortal tongues could possibly put into words.
She is also open to be worshipped by anyone. All of the Gods are. There is a common fallacy, in the Hellenic polytheistic community (and in the Pagan community as a whole), that a person can only worship deities who resemble them. This is not only obviously wrong (in Artemis’ case, one need only to look to Hippolytos; see also Xenophon, a presumably straight man who dedicated a temple to her), it also makes no sense. What a strange place Ancient Greece would have been if only kings could worship Zeus! If only musicians and doctors could worship Apollon! If only farmers could worship Demeter! And who would worship Hades - the Dead?
Interestingly, I see this fallacy applied most often to gender and sexuality. I have never heard anyone claim only hunters can worship Artemis, but I have had to reassure an anon that Artemis will still accept her now that she’s sexually active. I think this is, in part, where the belief that applying certain orientations to deities is restrictive comes from - because if you believe people can only worship deities like them, then viewing a deity as part of X group means that only X group can worship them. I’ll say it again: this is historically inaccurate to Hellenic polytheism, unsustainable considering the many facets of the Gods and the impossibility to fit them into modern categories, and needlessly exclusive. If you relate to Artemis - and even if you don’t - you can worship her, full stop.
But I also think this excessive focus on gender and sexuality as restrictive highlights a trend that can be seen in society at large. Often, whenever a person, character, or in this case a deity is presented as non-straight, many (usually straight) people will denounce it as unnecessary, even graphic information. Queer-coded relationships are played off as “open to interpretation”, and explicit interpretation of them as queer is “pushing an agenda”. Having a non-straight orientation (or not being cisgender) becomes a limitation on what someone could be, and by extension, on how others can relate to them - as if it isn’t simply another experience one can have of life, just like having brown eyes or being left-handed.
The fact is that everything we represent the Gods as is limiting. Every single word we use to express divinity is reducing it to something we understand and are comfortable with. We have no choice but to do this, because the wholeness of a God’s being kills mortals (see: Semele). Depicting the Gods as human is limiting them. Using gendered pronouns is limiting them. Calling them by Greek names is limiting them. All of those are traditions meant to help us relate to non-human beings, but somehow, it’s the projection of queer identities onto them that is singled out as restrictive.
Again, I’m not saying Artemis is any specific non-straight orientation. None of us know that, nor if it’s even possible for her to have an orientation. What I’m saying is that she was described in certain terms by the Ancient Greeks, along with all her other characteristics, and those terms fit within the definition of what modern people call “aromantic asexual” (or, according to others, “lesbian” - like I previously stated, one being attested does not exclude the other). As an aroace myself, there is no reason why this cannot be one reason I relate to her. She is freedom, yes, and that means many things to many people; one of those, to me, is the freedom to be myself and to prefer the wilderness over someone’s embrace. I love the Potnia Theron, with all this heart of mine that has been called loveless, because she reminds me that who I am is sacred. She has done the same for others, in many different ways, none of which are worth any less, none of which restrict her worship to those who share them, none of which restrict her at all, because it is through the multitudes of human echoes that we find in her that we can glimpse her true greatness.
#bottom line: someone saying they relate to a deity based on a specific experience that they recognise in how that deity is depicted#and someone saying that a deity IS a thing and others MUST agree#and someone saying ONLY people who are that thing can worship that deity#are not the same thing#also in case it wasn't clear - this is meant in a friendly tone#i'm not annoyed with the screenshotted person i'm just explaining my perspective#artemis*#hellenic polytheism#Hellenismos
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Ok, I dislike talking about discourse but as an East Asian myself I felt too strongly about this to let it rest.
I am not directing this post to the poster of the text in this screenshot, I’m just pointing out how everybody grossly over generalizes this point. I am by no means defending the usage of ‘rats’, but I am not going to stand for having this problem get out of hand with this kind of white knighting.
NON-East Asian people dictating how “Rat” should be used/shouldn’t be used is pretty harmful and frankly very patronizing. Our experiences and opinions are not for you to decide.
I feel that the statement/comparison in the image above would be an over generalization/lumping of (BI)POC people’s experiences. It is not always the same, or equivalent.
Calling Black People “Monkeys”
Nobody would use this unless they deliberately meant it. The roots of this is deliberately racist, back to when Black people were considered “nonhuman”. Anybody who uses this is obviously using this to harm people.
The “Rat Slur”
The root of the general insult of “rat” isn’t exclusive to being used on East Asians. In order for “rats” to be racist, it will need additional anti-asian/anti-POC context. It’s been used before WW2 and beyond, but not always necessarily against a group of people.
Calling a fictional character (Hyde, most often depicted as a) white man “rat” isn’t racist, it’s just the same as calling somebody a snake for being a liar. It’s an insult, but it’s not a slur in this context. Calling it out in this context wouldn’t really be helpful or activism, in fact it just might make people become de-sensitized/not take it seriously anymore and use the slur as a meme DELIBERATELY against POC/East Asian folk in the fandom.
It does become a slur/problem if: the character being called a rat in question is headcannoned/portrayed to be POC/East Asian. That’s just blatant dehumanization and lack of awareness. This should be be called out. (( With this said, I expect you all to know I’m NOT giving you a slur pass on asians.))
⭐️ Just to be safe, when it comes to a POC/East Asian character, you should probably use other words than rat, (stinky, cryptid etc.) and people should definitely be more mindful about the word’s usage and context, and again, I am glad this was addressed.
Please reblog this.
I don’t want people going around claiming that ‘rat’ is the ‘asian n-word’, all while talking over my people’s experiences and opinions of the matter and getting needlessly mad for “our sake”. Not only that, but people are needlessly getting harassed online for this.
I feel that the call out post linked two unrelated things that just happen to have the same word, and potentially caused more harm to a group of people that weren’t even a part of this to begin with.
I’m really sorry to any of my followers that didn’t sign up for this kind of discourse, but as I said, I felt too strongly to ignore it. Answering asks and drawings will be back on schedule!
#gothic literature#gothic literature discourse#jekyll and hyde#tw racial slurs#tw racisim#discourse#tw anti blackness#tw wwii#tw propaganda#bipoc#poc#east asian
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Meme Waker: That Final Thing
okay aight here we go here’s the big idea compilation you’ve all been waiting for or something like that
since I’ve finally accepted meme waker’s inevitable fate, I’ll share what I’ve had laying around about it. prepare yourself for a wild ride.
first of all, what existed of the planned character key:
Nightmare = Link
Dream = Aryll
Cross = Tetra
Ink = The Entire Pirate Crew
Granny Gertrude = Grandma
Horror = Quill
Killer = Medli
Color = Komali
Dust = Makar
XGaster = Tingle (yes, you read that right)
Fresh = Fado (?)
Geno = Laruto
Blueberry = Niko
Error = Ganondorf
Giant Flying Chicken = Helmaroc King
Core Frisk = The King
XChara = Zelda
So XChara was going to fill the role of Zelda–basically, what was going to happen was that when Cross and Nightmare reached sunken Hyrule, which was replaced by the Omega Timeline, they encountered Core Frisk and with their magical Core Frisk powers that apparently exist, separated XChara from Cross’s body. Because Error was hunting him down for whatever villainous reasons (I dunno, maybe he wanted to find Overwrite or something), XChara was going to spend the near remainder of the comic hiding in the Omega Timeline from Error. It was a pretty neat reference to the fact that Error doesn’t know where the OT is.
Unsurprisingly, considering when I was working on this, Nightmare and Cross may have eventually started dating. They were going to kiss during a fight that involved them accidentally rolling down a hill and then likely spend the remainder of the comic referring to each other as boyfriends, with no further indication of romance between them. I never really mentally decided whether I was actually going to incorporate this or not.
In moments where someone needed to present a musical instrument, Cross was going to play a keytar.
There is a very high chance that the entire comic was going to end up being an elaborate prank set up by Ink and Error.
After being rescued from the Forsaken Fortress, Dream was going to get crossbows and… I dunno, maybe be useful with them sometimes. One consideration was that he was going to complain about being stuck in a glorified retirement home and request joining the party.
Nightmare was going to have a fake ID with the name “Nathaniel Meyer” on it.
When Nightmare eventually pulled up the Gaster Sword, he was basically going to do a magical girl transformation and get a new outfit. I was considering holding a contest where people would submit new designs for Nightmare before I realized that I may have wanted to do it myself. Meanwhile, Cross’s design change at the same time was going to pertain to the fact that he had such a hard time with his uniform that he just wanted to start wearing normal clothes.
When XChara was separated from Cross, it would indicate that Cross can’t use the hack knife anymore, so I had to think of a new weapon for him. I considered giving him arm mounts with knives in them for no reason other than being extra, but I was probably just going to end up going with a regular sword.
Nightmare and Cross were going to be mistaken for missionaries at some point due to Nightmare introducing Cross as his ‘companion’.
Nightmare’s fake ID is actually a driver’s license. Cross questions how he could get one when he’s only fifteen, and Nightmare responds with “what can I say? I live in the country.”
The Giant Flying Chicken was going to evolve into the Cyborg Giant Flying Chicken before Nightmare and Cross fought it. It was already a robot, but someone decided it would be fun to make it look more robotic for some reason. Maybe too many people tried to eat it.
Because Blueberry was going to replace Niko, that meant there was going to be a form of challenge that he would present to Nightmare and/or Cross. They were probably just going to play Dance Dance Revolution.
The dress that Granny Gertrude gave Nightmare was actually going to be infused with magical powers. Either Nightmare could only access the power of the Triforce when he’s wearing the dress, or it was going to be a piece of equipment that turned his sword into a fire sword.
Nightmare was going to come back to the Village of Old People to see that his grandmother had conquered it with capitalism.
Dragon Roost Cavern was going to be replaced with a Pokemon gym.
When Nightmare supposedly kicked Error’s ass at the end of the story, he was going to say something along the lines of “Because fuck you!” and it would be the first and only f-bomb in the whole comic. Nightmare would proceed to say that it was the first time he’d ever said fuck and that he felt dirty.
The Triforce of Courage was just going to be called the Triforce of Porridge for exactly zero reason.
Some incarnation of Buffmare was going to exist in the comic, but only in a sequence taking place in Nightmare’s imagination.
When Cross realized his backpack was missing, it was because I realized his backpack was missing. I forgot to draw it. I decided that the backpack actually fused with him to create a Zelda-style magic pocket.
Nightmare was going to try to control a seagull with the command melody, but he was accidentally going to start controlling Cross instead and make him run into a tree.
The Tree Spirit was going to hold official interviews for placeholder guardians in Dream and Nightmare’s absence. These placeholder guardians were going to be Neil, the overenthusiastic French furry, and Ccino, the local emo kid who is absolutely done with everyone’s bullshit, and exclusively because they were the only ones who applied for the job. Neil was going to have an ulterior motive of becoming Gaston’s successor.
Neil and Ccino were eventually going to ‘get together’, if you can even call it that, and for no other reason than shitpost reasons.
Nightmare may have had a showdown with the Giant Flying Chicken while riding the Great Charizard from Dragon Roost.
Another possible concept for whole story was that it was a bad self insert fic written by a younger version of Nightmare, but it’s really unlikely that I would’ve gone through with that.
Nightmare and Cross may have needed to go on a fetch quest to find Ink’s brush in the ocean because they accidentally lost it, but honestly that would’ve served nothing for the progression of the story. Because XGaster put a tracker on Ink’s brush, they were going to have to enlist his help.
and that about wraps up my notes, now let me throw what I had sitting around of a script draft–reading this was a trip because I forgot that literally 60% of it existed:
(inside the mountain)
Cross: holy shoe, EVERYONE has wings? how is this a thing??
Cross: I’m frickin jealous
Chief: Oh. You must be. Those guys.
Horror: yeah man, I enlisted their help to capture the Chicken Terror, but then they were all like yo, it’s a robot!
Chief: horror robot or not I told you that we weren’t going to capture the chicken terror for food because we’re not cannibals we don’t eat birds
Horror: but
Horror: we’re hardly even birds!
Chief: you know your job Horror. now get back to work. your actual work.
Horror: But… being the mailman sucks!
Chief: Do I need to confiscate your axe again?
Horror: OKAY FINE. I’M GOING. (flies away in a huff)
Chief: AND DO YOUR GODFORSAKEN LAUNDRY!
Chief: I apologize for that… so, how can I help you two today?
Nightmare: You guys have like, some pearl thing or something? We need to like, collect three of them in order to… save the multiverse… or something like that.
(Camera dramatically darkens.)
Chief: It’s just as the prophecy foretold…
Nightmare: oh god what
Chief: You see, young whippersnappers… legend tells of a great hero that would rise up and save a bunch of people in times of desperation that they don’t even realize are desperate. the great hero would travel far and wide in search of the Pearls of Shiny to finally retrieve a great weapon that he would use to strike down the evil that few knew existed. also the hero would have a sidekick wearing stupid clothes.
Cross: EXCUSE ME
Chief: THAT’S JUST WHAT THE PROPHECY SAID
Nightmare: okay, y’know, I’m just gonna roll with it. where can I get the pearl?
Chief: Well… that’s where the hard part comes in. You see, the pearl belongs to my son… but he’s been acting like an edgy teenager lately.
Nightmare: Great…
Cross: Is there a reason he’s being edgy? Maybe there’s something we can do to appease his hormones.
Cross: Free food works like a charm for me.
Chief: No, it’s more complicated than that. When one of our people becomes of age, they climb to the top of Charizard Island to receive a scale from the Great Charizard that will allow them to grow wings.
Nightmare: the… great charizard.
Chief: But lately, the Great Charizard has been throwing inexplicable temper tantrums. No one can get close to him anymore. And with my son being of age, he’s decently pissed off about this.
Chief: We’re thinking that the Great Charizard is displeased about something, and it is also causing our shortage of food.
Nightmare: Wait, you worship something named after a Pokemon?
Chief: Anyway, perhaps you two will be able to talk some sense into my son. Maybe he just wants to talk to someone his age that isn’t Horror or Killer.
Nightmare: What kind of names are those?
Chief: There’s a letter that I wanted my son to read, and I’ve given it to Killer to hold onto. You can go get it from him upstairs in the first room near the stairs, just tell him I sent you. He’s the little guy in the short shorts, you’ll probably recognize him when you see him.
Nightmare: Can’t you just call him here?
Chief: No, it is of upmost importance that you experience a basic fetch quest in order to become a great hero, because those fetch quests will become needlessly complicated before you even realize it.
Nightmare: ?????
Nightmare: I can’t even tell if you’re joking or not–
Cross: dude let’s just go get the letter
(scene transition)
(Killer dramatically turns around and it zooms in and says his name SSB style)
Nightmare: Wait, why do you get a dramatic introduction?
Killer: Dayum. New faces.
Nightmare: Why is everyone ignoring my questions??
Killer: (needlessly sensual voice) So, what brings you here? (walking closer)
Nightmare: (backs into wall) NO BUENO
Cross: You have a letter or something?
Killer: Oh. Yeah. Chief gave it to me for some reason. Yo, catch.
(He chucks it like a ninja star. Cross catches it between his hands in front of his face.)
Killer: Ey! You actually caught it!
Cross: I’m a trained ninja.
Killer: So like, who are you guys?
Cross: I’m Cross. He’s Larry.
Nightmare: NIGHTMARE. MY NAME IS NIGHTMARE.
Killer: Aw man, I know the feel of having a really lame name and wanting one that’s cooler.
Nightmare: No. Like. My name is actually Nightmare. My senile grandma called me Larry earlier today and this loser picked up on it.
Killer: There’s no need to lie. I understand.
Nightmare: I’M NOT LYING!
Killer: anyway make sure you get that letter to Color there’s something I have to do–
(Killer zips out the door behind them.)
Cross: what even the frick?
Nightmare: that guy freaks me the frick out.
Nightmare: literally. I felt like he was coming onto me.
Cross: you’re imagining things.
(SCENE TRANSITION)
Cross: all right Nightmare I literally do not trust your ability to communicate with another person in a way that will make them feel inclined to give us something so just let me handle this okay
Cross: okay better yet wait outside the room
(Nightmare makes a less than amused face.)
Cross: it’s for the greater good
(Cross walks into the room.)
Cross: hi my name is Cross and
Color: LEAVE
(Cross immediately exits the room.)
Cross: this is a lost causeNightmare: what
Cross: go make him bleed with your words
Nightmare: dude isn’t this the part where we give him the frickin letter
Cross: (pauses) :o
Cross: OH RIGHT
(Cross takes the letter and goes back into the room, leaving the door open)
Cross: oh yeah this letter is for you it’s from your dad or something
Color: Oh, wow. Can’t even be bothered to talk to me in person.
Color: Give me that thing.
(Color stares at the letter. It’s actually a letter from Killer filled with really bad pickup lines and other really creepy compliments.)
Color: What the hell, you said this was from my dad!
Cross: We thought it was–??
(Killer teleports in behind them, scaring the shit out of Nightmare)
Killer: Suuuup~
Color: Killer I swear to god.
Killer: Here’s the actual letter, though you might not be happy with it.
(He flings it at Color and it lands in front of him. He reads it over, rolls his eyes and throws it in the trash.)
Cross: So uh… I don’t know what the letter says but apparently we’re prophesied heroes collecting a bunch of pearls to save the multiverse and the pearl you have is–
Color: Can everyone just get out of my room already?
(everyone just leaves)
Nightmare: What even was the point of that stupid fetch quest?
Killer: Oh yeah, can you guys help me with something? Just a smalllll favor. And I can’t ask anyone else because I’m not supposed to do it.
Killer: I need some strong, reliable people…
Nightmare: Don’t touch me.
Killer: It’s just a small favor! And I mean actually small, it’ll take like two minutes.
Nightmare: I have doubts about this.
Killer: Great! Meet me out back by the spring.
Nightmare: Wait which side is the back–
(Killer is gone)
Nightmare: Cross which side is the back.
Cross: I don’t know??
(after spending twenty minutes going through the various exits trying to figure out how to get there)
Killer: What the hell took you so long.
Nightmare: Directions would’ve been helpful. There wasn’t even a freaking map anywhere in there!
Killer: The hollow is like the size of a middle class house! How difficult could it be to find out where to go?!
Nightmare: IT’S A DOME THERE IS NO BACK
Cross: OKAY, what matters is that we’re here, what the heck do we do now.
Killer: Okay, okay. (steps backwards) Look, if you look around here, it’s all a dried up spring. The Great Charizard was throwing a tantrum, a boulder fell down and it coincidentally plugged up the spring for the third time this week, which is literally our main source of fresh water. I’m honestly getting sick of this so I’m going to climb the mountain and see what’s going on because everyone else is too scared to do it.
Nightmare: God. You’re not gonna make us go with you, are you?
Killer: Oh, no way. I just need you to throw me up that cliff over there so I can get into the cavern that leads up the mountain.
Nightmare: Can’t you fly?
Killer: Not thirty feet straight up. Do these noodle arms look like they can manage that?
Nightmare: Whatever. But quick question. How the hell does one throw a person.
Killer: I weigh like fifty pounds. It shouldn’t be that hard. Also, if you’ve noticed, the wind is rapidly changing directions, so you’ll probably have the best effect throwing me when the wind is blowing that way.
Nightmare: Mhmm. Sure. Let’s just get this over with.
(Nightmare crouches down and Killer fuckin walks onto his shoulders)
Nightmare: Hey! Watch it!
(some way or another he throws Killer and Killer barely makes it to the cliff, face planting into the ground)
Nightmare: Well I guess that worked.
Killer: THAT WAS TERRIBLE!
Nightmare: YOU’RE WELCOME! COULD’VE JUST USED A DAMN LADDER!
Killer: NOBODY OWNS A LADDER HERE BECAUSE EVERYONE CAN FLY!
Nightmare: Then how the frick do people get up this cliff?!
Killer: THERE’S NORMALLY A BRIDGE BUT IT BROKE AND PROBLEMS LIKE THESE ARE PRECISELY WHY I’M CLIMBING THE MOUNTAIN TO BEGIN WITH! ALSO I’M LEAVING BYE. (turns and leaves)
(cricket cricket)
Cross: Nightmare we should probably follow him.
Nightmare: No.
Cross: What else do we have to do. We solve their problem, Color can get his wings and then he stops being emo and gives us the pearl out of the goodness of his heart.
Nightmare: I’m not risking my life for this! If that guy is willing to do it himself I’m going to let him do it!
Cross: Dude, look at that guy. He looks about at capable fixing whatever the problem is as Ink is at providing emotional support. If this happens to be anything like a video game, we’re the only ones capable of solving anything. Besides, what else are we supposed to do? Hang around and wait for something to happen?
Nightmare: All right, fine. But how are we supposed to do something? It’s not like we can climb up a thirty foot cliff.
Cross: No, but we can swim, right?Nightmare: What?
(Cross draws a line around the rock covering the spring. It dematerializes into red squares and water starts to spew out of the spring. They both run back towards the side and climb up the cliff they came from)
Nightmare: Dude, what the hell was that?
Cross: I can draw lines around things with my sword and they do that and go away.
Nightmare: … do they go somewhere?
Cross: I dunno.
(Meanwhile in Xtale, a boulder slams into the floor and almost crushes Fresh because of course he’s there)
(The spring fills up)
Nightmare: You know I’m starting to have second thoughts about this swimming thing seeing as how I’ve never actually–(Cross kicks him into the water)
(LATER)
Nightmare: YOU ASSHOLE I ALMOST DROWNED
Cross: You’re exaggerating.
Random Dude: STOP RIGHT THERE!
Nightmare: who.
Random Dude: YOU AREN’T GOIN ONE STEP PAST THIS POINT! YOU’RE LIGHT YEARS FROM FACING BROCK!
(nightmare squints)
(comic suddenly goes into a battle sequence)
Nightmare: whoa whoa what the hell is happening
Cross: oh my god it’s pokemon NIGHTMARE IT’S POKEMON
Nightmare: I DON’T HAVE ANY POKEMON CROSS THREATEN HIM
(Random Dude sent out MEWTWO)
Cross: DEAR GOD
Cross: LISTEN THERE’S A HUGE MISUNDERSTANDING WE’RE NOT TRAINERS WE DON’T HAVE POKEMON
Random Dude: tHEN WHY ARE YOU IN A POKEMON GYM HUH
Cross: Uh… touring?
Random Dude: OH
Random Dude: I SEE
(The Random Dude returns his Mewtwo.)
Random Dude: THERE HAS BEEN AN UNFORTUNATE MISUNDERSTANDING
Cross: Say uh, you didn’t happen to see a scrawny dude with wings pass through here, did you?
Random Dude: Oh yeah, he went into the next room and took the elevator to the top.
(silence)
Nightmare: Why are there always elevators.
(two seconds later, they reach the elevator and there’s a dude standing in front of it)
Nightmare: um excuse me we need to use the elevator
Dude: oh man I can’t find my glasses anywhere what do I do
Nightmare: excuse me I said move
Dude: oh man I can’t find my glasses anywhere what do I do
Nightmare: HELLO
Dude: oh man I can’t find my glasses anywhere what do I do
Nightmare: MOVE ASSHOLE
Cross: I think it’s a preprogrammed NPC.
Nightmare: UAGGGGHHHHH
(Nightmare throws himself into the person, but he slams into the STEEL WALL OF NPC)
Nightmare: CROSS TELEPORT HIM AWAY
Cross: wait are you serious what if that freakin kills him I don’t know where these things go
Nightmare: YOU SAID IT YOURSELF HE’S AN NPC
(Cross shrugs. He draws a line around the NPC and the NPC disappears)
(one elevator ride later)
Nightmare: (chokes) oh god
Nightmare: the altitude
Cross: nightmare this island is still lower than ink’s house.
Nightmare: PSYCHOLOGICAL ALTITUDE
(fwip)
Cross: Oh look, it’s that guy from earlier.
Nightmare: Got captured somehow. Why am I not surprised?
Killer: YOU KNOW WHAT SCREW YOU GUYS
(A really buff guy abruptly slams into the ground)
Buff Guy: FEAR MY WRATH, FOR I AM BROCK! LEADER OF ALL THINGS ROCK HARD
Nightmare: Look man, we really don’t have time for this, just let the shota hoe go, we’re just checking up on the huge-ass Charizard up there.
Killer: excuse me
Brock: I AM THE LOYAL GUARDIAN OF THE GREAT CHARIZARD! You can only pass if you defeat me!
Cross: what the hell is even happening anymore
(Loud gym battle music as the gate at the entrance of the clearing slams shut)
Nightmare: LOOK WE’VE BEEN OVER THIS WE DON’T HAVE ANY POKEMON
(Brock war cries as he sends out a very anime geodude)
Nightmare: can someone please tell me I’m hallucinating all of this
Brock: WELL, IF YOU DON’T HAVE POKEMON, YOU’LL HAVE TO USE A RENTAL
Cross: What? But rental pokemon always suck.
Brock: YOU MUST PROVE YOUR WORTH SOMEHOW! AND BECAUSE YOU’RE SMALL CHILDREN YOU OBVIOUSLY CAN’T PROVE IT THROUGH SUMO WRESTLING.
Nightmare: I’m fifteen!
Cross: Nightmare I think you’re missing the point.
Killer: Good god, just let them through and let me out of here, they’re the heroes of prophecy.
Brock: PROPHECY
Brock: GOODNESS ME I APOLOGIZE FOR THAT
(Brock returns his geodude)
Brock: YOU SHOULD HAVE SAID SOMETHING
Nightmare: That would have worked?
Brock: BUT! IF YOU WANT TO FREE THIS TINY FELLOW HERE, YOU MUST COMPLETE A DIFFERENT CHALLENGE! FOR YOU SEE, HE TRIED TO PASS THROUGH HERE WITHOUT WRITTEN PERMISSION!
(Killer rolls his eyes. Nightmare squints, literally pulling a notebook out of his shirt. He writes something in it, walking up to Brock and holding it up. It says “Let the guy out of jail you dick”)
Brock: AHA
Brock: WELL
Brock: I CAN’T ARGUE WITH THAT
(He stomps his foot on the ground and the bars in front of Killer go up)
Brock: DON’T BE CAUSING TROUBLE NOW KIDS
(He ascends back into the sky)
Cross: I’m not even going to ask. That entire conversation felt like a drug trip.
(Killer dramatically throws himself onto Nightmare)
Killer: I knew you would come around, my knight in–
Nightmare: Why did I assume that you had become any less creepy in the last ten minutes. Why did I even do that?
Killer: Because your heart told you to.
Nightmare: Dear god stop touching me or I will literally pick you up and slam you into the floor.
Killer: Feisty. Anyway, I figured out why the Great Charizard is freaking out all the time. His tail is hanging down into the room below him and something is chewing on it like all the time.
Cross: What? Then why doesn’t it just, I dunno, pull its freaking tail out of the room like a reasonable creature? Or maybe take care of the problem on its own?
Killer: The Great Charizard is like a five year-old. It’s self aware, but it expects all of its problems to be solved by everyone else and throws tantrums when that doesn’t happen.
Nightmare: Well that’s stupid. Why does everyone act like it’s some holy being then?
Killer: Because it’s a massive, terrifying dragon that can breathe fire?
ok unfortunately this is where the script ends but I hope you enjoyed that
oh yeah, and some extremely old art that I found:
as well as a brief consideration to make the characters human before deciding that I just didn’t want to work on the comic anymore.
basically you will notice that most of this doesn’t have a solid outline, and you’d be right: I never actually planned it that meticulously. I mostly just winged it and threw stuff in over the course of time and never even really planned anything close to a definitive ending beyond “maybe it was a prank”. sorry if this is like… anticlimactic, but it’s all I could find!
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9, 16 and 18 !
you always ask questions. you're my favourite mutual. ily
9. favourite brand of clothing?
(did I adjust the spelling in this question to non-American English? yes I did)
MOKUYOBI, without a single doubt!! This brand makes me feel more like myself than almost anything else. It's a splurge (mostly bc of shipping to Canada... curse you, customs charges) but I usually aim to grab stuff on sale, and it's worth it once or maybe twice a year. It's got the colour palettes I love so much combined with casual shapes and styles!! I don't love dressing in girly clothes but it's often hard to find my favourite bright colours in more androgynous styles.
I'm wearing a Mokuyobi t-shirt right now!!
16. if you had to get a tattoo right now, what would you get and where?
yells I've wanted to get another tattoo basically since I walked out with my first one, if I'm honest. I was so nervous going in, bc I'd wanted this tattoo for years at that point but I'm a big baby? but by the time it was done I was like. Oh. I Get why people get addicted to this, actually.
tattoo in question, though I actually think it looks even better now, having healed further:
...which is. a line from one of my favourite songs by my favourite band, flor. this particular line resonates with me a lot and means a lot to me. (the line is actually 'all this joy out of the ashes,' but we don't talk about that.)
anyway, all of that being a needlessly long lead-up to: if I were to get another tattoo right now. there are lots of things I want tattooed, but only a couple things I have specific design plans for, and one of those is also flor-related. the second time I ever went to see them, I was on my own and had been through a Rough Few Months, and wound up sitting in a back corner of the venue in tears after the show, just from being so overwhelmed. their frontman, Zach, who is The Sweetest Human Man Who Ever Lived, quit helping the others tear down (lol) to come sit with me until I was okay. this was only the second time he'd ever met me!! but he came and hugged me and just, made sure I was all right. at one point I told him, "you guys got me through so much this last year."
corny as it is, Zach's response was something I will never ever forget, because it meant so much, especially coming from him - someone who was such a comfort to me as a musician, but who scarcely knew me as a person and was still looking out for me in that moment regardless. he told me simply: "you got yourself through so much. we just helped."
I still think about that all the time. I cannot overstate how much it meant to me. so I've long considered having it tattooed, as well. Zach has continued to be unbelievably sweet and friendly every time I've seen him, and the last time I did so - back in fall of '19, which is TOO LONG AGO - I asked him to write those words down in a notebook for me: "you got yourself through so much." he actually wrote it twice after worrying that the first was too messy lol.
so. one of these days, I'm going to have those words tattooed onto me, in his handwriting. I've thought about putting them on the other forearm, but I have another idea for that one too - a line from a different song, one of my favourites from my other all-time favourite band, Motion City Soundtrack. I think it would be cool to have lines from two different songs that are really special to me, in the same font, in symmetrical spots? (also the line is "it's a pleasure to meet you" and would be on my right forearm and it chuffs me a little to imagine handshakes with that there, hah.) anyway, as a result I'm still not 100% certain where I would put "you got yourself through so much" - possibly underneath the ashes tattoo, where I can always see it. back of the shoulder is also a possibility but I like the idea of it being somewhere easy for me to look at.
GOD JESUS that was a long answer. I am so sorry. this is the problem when anything gets me talking about flor.
18. rant about your favourite musician
L M F A O I DID NOT READ AHEAD ON THESE QUESTIONS
anyway uh. yeah. it's flor.
I kind of went on a tangent about Zach up there, because he truly is one of the most wonderful people I've ever met, and I'm insanely grateful that he always greets me like an old friend. all four of the boys are like that, really; they're amazing at remembering individual fans and making you feel loved and welcomed when you chat with them after a show. but Zach is the best at it. one time he saw me on the sidewalk before a show that he didn't expect me to be at, and he got so excited he started singing, like- like just one long, high note. and even though I was crouched on the ground digging around in my bag and couldn't get up fast enough, he blew right past the other two girls I was standing with - both of whom he's known for years longer than he's known me lmao - to kneel down and wrap me in a hug. anyway he's one of my favourite people alive.
but to also rave for a moment about the band as a whole, rather than about the boys as people: flor has legitimately changed my life so much. I discovered them by accident and literally don't know who or where I would be now, four-and-change years later, if I hadn't. their music has been a comforting and uplifting constant for me since the first night I heard it. their shows have been some of the best experiences of my life - every flor show feels like being home, and being completely myself, and being so fucking full of joy, no matter what my life is like outside of that moment. their fanbase, the florfam, is full of such amazing people, and I've made so many great friendships amongst them. because of flor I learned to go to shows alone, and go into Toronto alone, both of which are feats I could never have imagined tackling before I fell in love with this band.
but even more, because of flor I learned to travel alone. I am an incredibly anxious homebody, and I still get nervous spending the night away from home most of the time, but for flor I got my passport renewed and travelled solo to the States - first on a bus, then the next year on a plane. I met up with friends I'd previously known exclusively through twitter, and it was like we'd known each other for ages. we hugged like old friends when we met and cried when it was time to part again. the Courtney before flor could never have done something like that.
I have grown so much because of falling in love with this band. I've done things I definitely never would have otherwise. I've written whole stories that would never have occurred to me without flor's music. a flor show feels like home, like love, like raw, abundant, riotous joy. I've never been anywhere happier. I've never gotten out of one without crying!! the music those boys make is my favourite in the whole world, and I keep it close to my heart always, but their impact on my life is so much bigger than that.
#long post#like LONG long holy shit I'm sorry?#but also oh my god Izu THANK YOU#you had no way of knowing how these questions would open me up like an exuberant can of worms but here we are#and I had SO MUCH FUN.#personal#survey#flor
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TLTNL- SEEN AND UNFORSEEN
Sirius easily caught the book and began thumbing through pages, muttering this would have been far easier if his twat of a friend would just hand it to him rather than losing his place every time. James ignored this and went to retrieve his son from Remus, quickly stepping out to change his diaper in the slight delay and then nestling back next to his wife with their child between them as Sirius started with residual triumph for Harry's finally able to speak out like he did.
Luna said that Harry might have to wait for the next issue for his article to be published, as her daddy was expecting an expose on the Crumple-Horned Snorkack.
"It's good to know I'm not everybody's top priority," Harry said indulgently. He may have a good feeling about that paper, but he still wasn't sure how much good it would do, so best to put it out of his mind for now.
The whole experience hadn't been easy for Harry, as Rita had demanded every detail Harry could remember.
Lily huffed in agitation that vile woman was pressing her son for those details, hating the irony that Skeeter had finally gotten her exclusive article she'd always wanted, but at least happy enough Harry was on board with this one.
Knowing this was his chance to speak out, he'd given everything he was asked, but still wondered if anyone would believe it. Yet the breakout of Azkaban left Harry with a burning desire to do something!
At dinner, Dean overheard what Harry would be doing and said he couldn't wait to see what Umbridge would do when she found out. Seamus was on his friends other side and apparently ignoring them, but Harry could tell he was listening.
"Guess it's better than calling you a nutter again," James frowned at this continuation, clearly the Death Eater breakout hadn't been good enough to push someone who should know Harry on some level back into reason.
Neville agreed it was the right thing to do, people should be made aware Voldemort was out there, what his Death Eaters could do. Harry caught Seamus' eyes, but the other quickly looked back down at his plate.
"You think Dean's secretly helping Seamus with all the spells he's learning from the DA?" James asked.
"Well I'm sure Dean hasn't exactly told where he's learned them from," Sirius reminded of Hermione's little spell with a proud smirk, "but I wouldn't be surprised either."
His dorm mates left not much later, but Harry stuck around waiting for Ron's Quidditch practice to be over.
Remus let out a low whistle of surprise for such a long running practice, his two friends looking far more disappointed they hadn't gotten to hear about that instead of two-thirds of that Hogsmeade visit.
Cho was spotted first, coming in with her friend Marietta. Hermione saw this and asked why he'd shown up so early before without her?
"At least Hermione can talk you through it," Lily told him, glad that her son had seemed to follow their commentary well enough, but it would still be even better if someone had explained this to him in his time.
"I'd rather just never speak of it again," Harry grumbled.
Harry stated it was a complete fiasco.
"Well I'm glad you're chatting with her about this," James smirked, "far more than I ever got, you've now experienced Sirius' advice first hand."
"Hey!" Sirius yelped, "it's not my fault the woman's the most stubborn creature at school." Sirius clearly repeated an old statement.
Lily raised a brow at him, before looking at a suddenly uncomfortable James, and asked, "exactly how many of your blasted attempts were of his doing?"
James had the grace to fail to answer that, Remus was laughing too hard to answer, and Sirius kept going loudly so he wouldn't have to.
He explained the whole instance, ending with her storming out, and asked of her what on earth had been going on?
Hermione told Harry he was tactless.
"Hey!" Harry spluttered, now much preferring his mum's words.
Lily was still watching James critically, and he was happily ignoring her look by playing with his son's fingers.
Harry was outraged that was her conclusion. They'd been having a nice chat until she'd brought up Roger Davies, and then it had all gotten out of hand.
Hermione began to patiently explain as if to an over-emotional toddler,
All three boys got a chuckle out of that, though none of this was improving Harry's mood at the lot of them ganging up on him in past and present.
that he shouldn't have mentioned her halfway through his date.
Harry spluttered in protest Hermione had asked him to, how was he supposed to bring Cho along without telling her?
Hermione said he should have phrased it differently, still with that maddeningly patient air.
Lily was smothering her own laughter now, finally distracted from eyeing James. Hermione, with her two male best friends, should know better than anyone what if felt like to explain these things to them.
He should have made it seem like a drag Harry had to do this, he'd much rather spend all his time with Cho, but Hermione really had made him swear so he now had an obligation and to really make her feel as if she was more important by pleading with her to come along. It would have helped if he'd also mentioned how ugly Harry found Hermione.
"That is so unnecessary," Remus stated as he eyed Lily, "I'm sure she'd find it just as insulting his pandering to her need."
Lily just shrugged. She wasn't going to try speaking for Cho. She was privy to knowing what Harry had meant and so understood her son's position better than Cho likely had. Plus she'd never had much insecurity in the man in her life, he'd never been secretive about his intentions. Yet at the same time, it was clear she was the only one in here who understood why Hermione had said it that way, it would have helped soothe Cho more than what Harry actually did.
Harry's only response to that was to say he didn't find Hermione ugly.
"At least I could have told you that wouldn't have been helpful in the face of Cho," Sirius offered.
"Thank you Padfoot, I think I could have worked that one out," Harry rolled his eyes.
Hermione just laughed, saying he was as bad as Ron, or perhaps not she amended with a sigh,
All five of them couldn't help a soft snort of amusement at Hermione suffering her own plight of love.
as Ron himself came stomping into the Hall splattered with mud and looking grumpy.
"I'm guessing practice didn't go well," Remus said conversationally.
"I still can't imagine coming away from a practice in such a bad mood," James stated, his tone enough to state the idea was lost on him. "Quidditch is how you relieve stress."
Hermione continued explaining for Harry that Cho was trying to make him jealous after he'd bought Hermione up, it was her way of seeing who Harry liked more.
Harry protested why couldn't she have just said that? Ron clearly wasn't joining in the conversation just yet as he sat down on the bench and began pulling every plate towards him.
"Dessert for dinner, that's got to be some consolation," Sirius chuckled.
Hermione just said it wasn't common for girls to be asking that.
"I love my wife," James needlessly declared as he grinned at her.
"I've never asked anything like this of you," Lily rolled her eyes at him.
"I know," he smirked as she made his point.
Harry said they should! He could have just told her he fancied her, instead of her bringing up Cedric again!
Hermione agreed it hadn't been sensible, but she was just trying to help Harry understand how Cho had been feeling.
Harry just muttered something about he wasn't looking forward to a repeat, or if he had to, maybe he could sneak Hermione along under the cloak so it wouldn't go as bad again, or maybe Ginny if she'd help him out in trade of getting her out of a Quidditch practice she so clearly hadn't wanted to be in...
Ron told Hermione she should write a book, translating things girls did so boys could understand them.
"That would be a bestseller," Sirius agreed.
"I love Ron just automatically took to the important part of that conversation," Remus snickered.
Harry agreed at once, but as Ginny joined decided to change the subject and asked how practice had gone?
Both said it was a disaster, Ginny stating Angelina was nearly in tears by the end.
"That poor girl," James said with honest sympathy. He'd been lucky to have such a fantastic team his final year, yet every time Angelina turned something happened to hers this year.
The two ate quickly without much more detail and then vanished to clean themselves up, Harry and Hermione finally going back to the common room to start some homework. They were interrupted by the twins showing up, asking if their younger siblings were around yet? When confirmed they weren't, they decided to share more details, having looked in on the practice, and stating what rubbish the team was.
Lily struggled to hold back a new wave of pig headed comments about the new mischief makers of this school, her restraint not helped at all by the sympathetic look growing on James.
George did defend Ginny wasn't bad, an oddity as none of them had ever let her play.
Hermione inserted this was because she'd been stealing their brooms since she was six and practicing on her own.
"Ginny keeps getting better with every mentioning," Remus chuckled.
"Absolutely better than the little fangirl," Harry agreed full heartedly, even if he did look back on that with far more humor than he would have thought.
George now looked impressed as he said that explained things.
"He's so casual about having his stuff being nicked," Sirius grinned as well even if he knew he'd have gone off on Regulus for doing the same.
Hermione tried her hardest not to look up from her work as she asked if Ron had saved one goal?
Fred rolled his eyes as he stated he was quite good when he thought no one was watching. Therefore all they had to do at the next match was have the whole crowd turn their back when the ball was at his end of the pitch.
All four boys groaned and shifted restlessly, James wishing more and more someone would offer Ron some actual helpful advice rather than just complaining about the problem.
Then Fred shifted restlessly as he looked out the window, saying Quidditch had been the only thing this place had been worth staying for.
"That was true several months ago now," Sirius scoffed, "I've no clue why they stuck around after what Umbridge pulled, I haven't heard a lick of revenge from them about it."
"Sirius," Lily said in exasperation. "They've been at it this long, even if they don't care about the grades they may as well finish school by this point they're so close."
"I thought the reason they hadn't bailed was because they didn't want their mum to have more worries," Remus reminded. "That's hardly gone away, if not worse with their fathers recent injury."
Sirius turned back to the book in hopes the twins would give some better answer.
Hermione looked sternly at them as she reminded of their exams.
Harry burst out laughing that the closest thing to have crossed their minds in here was his mother's words, and even she hadn't seemed that concerned about it.
Fred scoffed they were not worried about that one bit. Their Snackboxes were now good to go, Lee had turned them onto this essence of Murtlap and that had cured the boils.
James gave a loud applause at his son yet again helping out the twins, this time even unintentionally! Sirius though cracked up even harder as he realized it was Hermione who'd been the pin in this one, and wondered if anyone ever realized the connection.
"I want to know what possessed them to put that in what they eat," Lily crinkled her nose.
"A bit brilliant though," Remus grinned, "considering the essence is to help ease sore skin, and I can't think of a place they were more sore. If they'd put it on those boils, and realized it made them go away, then the next step would be adding it to their batch."
Lily narrowed her eyes with worry in here that this idea clearly didn't bother a single one of them, there was a reason she cooked in this house.
George kept on point and stated he didn't even want to go to the match this weekend, he'd kill himself if he saw Zacharias won.
"Kill him more like!" James scolded.
Fred corrected kill him instead.
Sirius whooped with laughter and James even joined in that time with glee.
Hermione said this was the whole trouble with Quidditch, it created too much bad blood between houses.
The boys looked properly scandalized at this, but Lily defended Hermione on this one. "I may not like the sport much either, but I think a few things could be altered to make it more bearable for those who aren't obsessed with it."
"Like?" James challenged, clearly already convinced she could offer nothing for this.
"What if, instead of pinning the house teams against each other, any person from any house could be on four separate teams? Captains would still be chosen one from each house, and you'd have to create some structure for how each team got players so that nothing too dirty could be abused during selections, but it would do even more good to support a school unity rather than having another way for them to compete against each other. We already have the House Cup for that."
Her speculation ended there, for now, but she looked around and grinned further when she saw none of the boys were immediately dispelling the idea.
Sirius scrutinized her for an extra minute, but failing to come up with an argument against that, continued for now.
She looked up in the silence to see all those around her looking at her with incredulity.
"Well she did say that to the three players who'd been booted off the team for something entirely not their fault," Sirius defended.
Hermione insisted it did, it was only a game.
James opened and closed his mouth in outrage, and Harry was quite thankful his friend wasn't here now, or she may have gotten her ear chewed off.
Then she snapped at least her happiness wasn't dependent on Ron's goalkeeping ability.
Remus inhaled through his teeth as he watched his friends blanch at that spurn even through the book.
Harry would rather have jumped off the Astronomy Tower than admit it to her, but by the time he had watched the game the following Saturday he would have given any number of Galleons not to care about Quidditch either.
"I blame this on your father," Lily told him.
"It's half Ron's fault," Remus said fairly, "he got Harry into the details of it."
"No," James shook his head to try and distract himself from his own disappointment, "I take full responsibility for this."
The nicest thing to be said, it was short. It was debatable what was worse in the twenty-two minutes, Ron's fourteenth failed saves, Sloper hitting himself with the bat instead of the Bludger, or Kirke actually falling off his broom in surprise after Zacharia had startled him.
"I'm going with that last one," Sirius said critically.
"I'm crying on the inside just hearing about it," James moaned at the display.
Ginny was the only saving grace, managing to make their team only lose by ten points, as she'd caught the Snitch under the other Seekers nose, the final score coming out two hundred and forty to two hundred and thirty, Hufflepuff.
All four boys simultaneously groaned at the idea so many goals had been made, but tried to cheer slightly Ginny had pulled that off! Harry in particular found it a novelty at all to be watching a game from his school and with his disappointment still had far more fun watching Ginny play his usual position than he would have thought.
That evening Harry at least congratulated Ginny on her catch, which went unnoticed in the common room which resembled a particularly dismal funeral.
"I can easily imagine," James hung his head in agreement, he couldn't claim his team had won every game either.
Ginny just said she was lucky, Summerby sneezed at the right moment.
"She shouldn't downplay her own win," Harry rolled his eyes.
"Like you would have done," Sirius snorted, which Harry failed to answer.
Then she changed to saying when Harry was back on the team-
Harry corrected he had a lifelong band.
Ginny corrected right back only so long as Umbridge was here,
"How did you need her to remind you of that," James shivered, "it's the only thing getting me through these."
"Really James? The only thing eh?" Lily demanded of him.
He denied answer, even if he wouldn't take his comment back.
and once Harry was back, she'd go try out for Chaser. Angelina and Alicia were leaving after this year, and she preferred goals to Seeking.
Harry had a very bemused smile in place the others all put down to him trying not to remember something about whether this happened or not.
Harry had nothing to say to that and instead glanced to where Ron was sitting all by himself. Ginny whispered Angelina still wouldn't let him resign, she knew he had it in him.
"Credit to her then," James agreed with enthusiasm, though Remus shook his head in a bit of pity as well, at some point that must feel as much like a punishment as encouragement.
Harry liked Angelina for her faith, but at this point may have found it kinder, especially after the pitch had yet again been filled with another chorus of Weasley is our King.
"I can't wrap my head around the fact that somehow banning the teachers from virtually talking to the students was okay, but not this song!" Lily seethed.
Fred and George wandered over again, Fred saying he didn't even have the heart to take the mickey out of his kid brother yet.
"It's really no fun if they're so despondent they won't react," Sirius agreed, Lily scrunching up her face at him as she thought he was entirely missing the point of not picking on someone when they were down.
Though it was tempting after that last one, then he mimed doing a doggy paddle in mid air as demonstration for Ron's abilities, but when no one looked around, decided to save that for parties.
"I'm sure he appreciates your restraint," Remus said deadpan, while Harry felt a nasty prickling feeling wondering why he couldn't remember Fred doing that again.
Ron took himself up to bed not long later, and Harry waited a few moments so he could pretend to be asleep.
"There's a proper mate," Remus said in understanding, before unbidden the idea of which one of his friends were more like that, and it wasn't the two in the room. He blasted that idea away quickly before it could poison more of his life.
When Harry went up there as well, he was snoring just a little too loudly to be believed, but Harry let him be as he sank into his own bed, still thinking about the game. If only he hadn't been banned, he may have been able to save his team some grace, he'd seen the Snitch fluttering by Kirke's ankle five minutes before Ginny had caught sight of it.
"He really is getting as conceited as you, at least about this sport," Lily snipped at her husband, before properly scolding Harry, "you don't know what you would have done in that moment as well, you've hesitated over the Snitch before so the other Seeker wouldn't come in as well. You might not have even seen it from where you were, you were in a different angle in the stands."
Harry did look a bit abashed at his moment, he'd never want to undermine what Ginny had done.
Umbridge had been sitting a few rows below Harry and Hermione.
"And we snuck down and pitched her head first to the ground below. After setting a teacher on fire, this was nothing!" Sirius kept going with absolute conviction as if reading.
"Technically Hermione did that," Harry pouted, "and you're never going to let that one go, are you?"
"No," all four said at once.
Harry shook his head at all of them before continuing to address Sirius, "and you know perfectly well there was no such thing said in there, even Dumbledore couldn't stop me from getting Cruicio'd by her if we'd tried-" he abruptly stopped, as if his tongue had rolled into his head and he'd had no other choice from the sting of his mind warning him further.
Sirius ignored where Harry had stopped and kept going with a mutter of wishes.
Once or twice she had turned squatly in her seat to look at him, her wide toad's mouth stretched in what he thought had been a gloating smile.
"Oh yes, because that's so much better than what I said," Sirius snarled in outrage, wanting nothing more than to sick a wild dog on her already and make this problem go away.
The memory left him raging with anger, and it took him several extra moment to remember he was supposed to be emptying his mind for his Occlumency practice.
"Have you once managed to do that?" Lily asked, an edge of fear trying to push out her exasperation.
Harry denied answering, which was answer enough.
He tried to do so, but his anger only managed to double and now he couldn't push past his hate for both teachers.
"I know that's what puts me to sleep every night," Sirius agreed with a smirk.
When he did nod off, he started with a dream about Neville dancing with Sprout in the Room of Requirements while McGonagall played the bagpipes.
"There's something really interesting in there," Remus said with a raised brow.
"Yeah, how come you didn't mention her wearing a kilt along with those?" James smirked.
"I thought only blokes wore kilts?" Sirius corrected.
"It was the first Scottish thing that came to mind," he shrugged, "that and potatoes."
"It was a dream!" Harry protested this conversation before it could go further.
They frowned at him for ruining their fun, but since McGonagall wasn't here as their foil, nor would they possibly have even dragged it out this far if she had been, he let it go.
He watched for a while before deciding to find the rest of the DA, but when he exited the room he found himself once again in the long dark corridor with a locked black door.
Harry made a guttural noise of frustration at being reminded of this again! Days weren't even passing in here, he wasn't even having the frequent dream as his memory returned except the two times so far, but as often as it was mentioned he may as well be.
For the first time, there was a crack around one edge, a hint of blue light creeping out. He moved forward, reaching his hand out to push it open no matter how futilely, but then Ron gave a rasping, genuine snore and Harry awoke in his room, with his arm outstretched to something miles away.
Sirius couldn't deny he'd had a rising sense of interest at this new alteration to the dream, but it also made him quiver with unease just as much.
He glanced up at Harry shivering at his side, there was some unreadable look on his face Sirius was more convinced than ever he didn't really want to know.
Remus either didn't notice, or as usual was muttering for himself and didn't seem to realize others could hear. "Well this can't be good, sounded like Voldemort's getting closer to whatever this thing is."
Sirius gave a heavy sigh in agreement before continuing loudly.
Breakfast the next morning started as usual, everyone else receiving their owl mail while Harry poured himself some juice, but then an owl landed in front of him. Considering he'd received all of one letter this year, he was sure this must be a mistake.
Sirius tried his best to hide his anger at this being true. He couldn't believe he was scared away from communicating with Harry! He'd even offered his pup another solution and the little birk had denied that out of some skewed idea he was protecting him! He wasn't even sure himself what it had been, but for Harry to clearly have just forgotten about it and not even bothered to check was maddening! He continued reading with far more hostility than a bit of mail should have offered.
He even checked the address on it, but the recipient was clear as day. Before he had time to react, half a dozen more arrived.
"This isn't like what happened to Hermione last year is it?" Lily asked in concern, remembering the amounts of hate mail the poor dear got.
"Luna said the article wasn't even out yet for him to be getting any," Remus disagreed, though now Sirius felt even more justified in his haste of reading.
The whole hall was watching in confusion at the flock of birds trying to surround Harry, but Hermione reacted first in digging one in particular out with a long, cylindrical partial tied to its leg and said Harry should look at this one first. When he unwrapped it, he found a copy of The Quibbler, with his own picture on front with the title declaring Potter Speaks Out: The Truth about You-Know-Who.
"Luna jumped ahead of schedule," James said with glee.
"Still not sure if I'm a fan of the rest of this showing up," Sirius said grumpily, eyeing the rest of the text with worry. If anyone had sent his godson a cursed letter, that meant Umbridge had let that through her screening of Harry's mail, and that wasn't going to go over well.
Luna appeared, shoving her way onto the bench near him so she could say her dad had got it out yesterday and sent Harry a free copy, she supposed all of these were letters from those who'd read it.
Hermione asked if they could go through them, and Harry bemusedly told them to help themselves.
"That's a better reaction than you usually have to getting attention," Lily chuckled.
Ron found one that was from a guy telling Harry he was off his rocker, while Hermione read out one detailing how Harry should be put in St. Mungo's for shock therapy.
Remus scrunched up his face in agitation for that particular suggestion, Harry was tortured enough thank you.
Harry found one that actually concluded in someone agreeing, and believing Harry.
Fred had one that said he couldn't decide what to think, and declared it a waste of parchment.
"Everybody wants to put their opinion out there, even if it isn't an actual opinion," Sirius said in an attempt at Remus' wise voice.
Remus rolled his eyes for his friend.
Hermione managed to find at least three more of people who Harry had convinced!
Ron found one from a woman who Harry had converted, and she'd sent a picture, he trailed off with a wow.
"Err," James said with concerned curiosity.
"I never got to see the picture," Harry answered with that bemused expression lingering in here, so he had no clue if Ron's reaction was to be a good thing or bad for that.
Inserting her girlish voice into their conversation, Umbridge arrived to demand to know what was going on.
"He sent out a request for toad repellent, he still didn't get enough," Remus said with a straight face.
Fred demanded if getting mail was a crime now?
Umbridge told him to watch his tongue or she'd start issuing detentions.
Lily bite down so hard on her tongue from shouting out in frustration for the grounds of this her eyes began welling up in pain. She could never stand the idea of that woman anywhere near Harry, never mind the casual way she dished out torture and no on in that school had done a thing to stop it!
Harry tossed his issue of The Quibbler at her for explanation, and then quickly looked to the staff table to see Dumbledore. He'd felt for a moment his headmaster was watching him, but for now it looked as if he was talking deeply to Flitwick.
"I've yet seen your instincts fail you," Remus said blandly, "so I wouldn't be surprised if you were right." It made none of them feel better this treatment was being continued as casually as Umbridge's.
Umbridge was gazing flabbergasted at the article, demanding what he meant by this interview?
Harry responded a reporter had asked him questions and he'd answered them.
Sirius let out a triumphant bark of laughter, everyone else getting a giggle out of that as well.
Her voice growing higher with anger, she asked of him when this had taken place?
Harry said his last Hogsmeade trip.
Her response to this was to ban him from further visits.
The three Marauders blanched in further outrage from that pond scum. The detentions were still worse, but if there was one thing she could do to strike them hardest, it was ban them from their home turf. She grew luckier by the page they weren't there in person to teach her a thing or two about how she was treating their boy.
Then began hissing how he dared!
"Yes, how dare he have a voice in saying what happened to him that doesn't conform to you," James said dangerously, that smile still in place turning eerie as he thought of yet more curses he planned on using on her someday soon.
Then she decided her message had not yet received, and took fifty points away from Gryffindor as well as another week of detentions.
Harry let out a low whistle even if his face was bland while he stated, "whoever would have imagined Umbridge would do me a favor in getting me out of an Occlumency lesson."
"This isn't funny Harry," James said flatly, his voice flat and his eyes flashing.
Harry raised his hands in surrender at once, wincing and regretting trying to make it funny even if in his own head he was still weighing the two on levels of awful and couldn't quite decide which was worse.
She stalked away with the magazine still in hand, and by midday had issued a new decree that anyone caught with this would be expelled.
Lily felt her mouth flop open in true resignation of the stupidity of these. How did they manage to keep getting more ridiculous with every one?!
The boys were so sick of these being made up on the spot and being passed as actual laws they'd even run out of insults for them, something they wouldn't have believed possible before.
For some reason, every time Hermione caught sight of one of these signs she beamed with pleasure.
"What do you mean, for some reason?" Remus asked Harry, he found the woman's own idiocy almost brilliant.
"Everyone already thinks I'm a nutter, and just cause I said something in a paper wouldn't really change that," Harry said, his spirits clearly hadn't kept hold of that warmth pushing back at the Ministry this had originally given him. "Now there's no way anyone's going to risk getting expelled just to hear my account of being a madman even more."
"Oh Harry," Sirius chuckled, while James shook his head affectionately. "You have no idea what Umbridge just did."
Harry continued to just look around at them, but Sirius kept going before Lily could explain like she was clearly fixing to.
Harry asked what had her in such a good mood, and Hermione explained that if there was one thing Umbridge could have done to make sure every single person read that, it was banning it.
Harry still didn't seem to get it, and was opening his mouth to interrupt again to say so, so Lily did state, "remember back to your first week, how you suspected everyone was talking about your first detention in hopes you'd start shouting at them as well?"
He didn't have to think long before the realization hit, and he nodded as she finished, "they do want to hear you, it's far easier to form an opinion of a first hand account rather than what Dumbledore said. I'm not promising it will change everyone's minds, but those letters you were sent was the perfect example of how this will put things inside school as well."
Harry suddenly turned eagerly back to Sirius now, hope finally filtering through every bit of him! Umbridge had managed to take away yet one more thing about school he loved, now he had managed to circle back around to being banned from Hogsmeade again. In return, she may have gifted him with his best weapon yet in spreading his story for him.
Hermione's statement turned out to be very true. They could no longer walk down the corridor without hearing people talking about the article, but not a corner of The Quibbler ever came into sight. Hermione even said the girls restroom was filled with telling each other about it.
"There's evidence as if we needed it," Sirius snickered.
Then the occupants had spotted Hermione and knew she knew Harry, and they'd bombarded her with questions, and they all seemed convinced of him now.
It was amazing to finally see him smiling in here, practically glowing. The idea of what he'd been put through this year had weighed on him for so long they'd hardly been able to recognize it until it was being lifted away before their eyes. Finally, something had gone right for Harry, and no one, not even Umbridge was taking that away.
Meanwhile, Professor Umbridge was stalking the school, stopping students at random and demanding that they turn out their books and pockets: Harry knew she was looking for copies of The Quibbler, but the students were several steps ahead of her.
All four of them already had that flippant smile set in place, one Harry had grown to associate with their idea they'd never be caught by the teachers of that school. The lot of them weren't long from their own teen years and hiding things from anyone and everyone, and they couldn't wait to see how others were doing the same.
The pages carrying Harry's interview had been bewitched to resemble extracts from textbooks if anyone but themselves read it, or else wiped magically blank until they wanted to pursue it again.
"Passable," Sirius said reasonably.
"Sometimes subtler can be safest," Remus shrugged.
Soon it seemed that every single person in the school had read it. The teachers were of course forbidden from mentioning the interview by Educational Decree Number Twenty- six,
"I never thought the idiocy of that one could be passed, could I please stop being proven wrong," James rolled his eyes.
but they found ways to express their feelings about it all the same. Professor Sprout awarded Gryffindor twenty points when Harry passed her a watering can;
"My favorite thing that teacher's ever done," Sirius chuckled.
a beaming Professor Flitwick pressed a box of squeaking sugar mice on him at the end of Charms before hurrying away;
Lily giggled affectionately for her old favorite teacher.
and Professor Trelawney broke into hysterical sobs during Divination and announced to the startled class, and a very disapproving Umbridge, that Harry was not going to suffer an early death after all, but would live to a ripe old age, become Minister for Magic and have twelve children.
All five of them got a crack out of that one. They seemed to forget a lot how much fun Trelawney could be and enjoyed the reminders.
The best part of all was Cho catching up to Harry, lacing his hand with hers as she whispered in his ear that the interview had been really brave and made her cry.
"Was, that an apology, or...?" James trailed off with a furrowed brow.
"She was holding his hand, I'll take that as a sign of forgiveness for meeting up with other girls," Sirius rolled his eyes at the girls further dramatics.
Harry had a soft smile in place, he was happy he'd found some more even ground with her, and they all wondered if they'd been dead wrong at the end of Harry's first date. Maybe he and Cho did make up and further on from there.
He was sorry to hear she had shed even more tears over it,
Lily couldn't help a further smattering of giggles, all boys considered crying a bad thing, even tears of joy.
but very glad they were on speaking terms again, and even more pleased when she gave him a swift kiss on the cheek and hurried off again.
Harry touched the spot on his cheek, his smile growing more as his face took on another tinge of red, and for once he could easily ignore the snickers of those around him. He could still feel something for Cho, and though it didn't feel nearly as powerful as he thought it would if he'd married her, perhaps his full memories just hadn't been returned yet and he'd have even more happy memories of sharing time with her.
Unbelievably, no sooner had he arrived outside Transfiguration than something just as good happened: Seamus stepped out of the queue to face him.
"Finally!" Remus said in relief. It hadn't exactly been a major drama, but it was still boggling the idea one of Harry's roommates had taken so long to believe Harry. Even not being close friends, Seamus really would have been expected to be one of those who'd know better.
He spoke to Harry's knee as he mumbled his apology, but firmly said he now believed Harry and had sent a copy of that magazine to his mum.
"It's a start," Sirius raised a brow at that.
"I accepted it," Harry said agreeably, that smile was finally so carefree in here, they were all still smiling as well.
Still better, was that whomever would have retaliated such as children from the Death Eaters he had named, could do nothing,
Lily smiled grimly to herself, beyond pleased as she realized they now had names for all of Voldemort's inner circle. There were still more out there, there would always be more Death Eaters, but if she could find one good thing in the throes of these wretched things happening to her son, it was the justice those vermin would get.
because in doing so they'd admit to having read the article themselves.
James pumped his fist in triumph while Sirius cackled, all five of them beyond words at this level of comeuppance.
To cap it all, Luna told him over dinner that no issue of The Quibbler had ever sold out faster.
"Imagine that," Remus said dryly with a friendly chuckle.
Excitedly telling him that her dad was reprinting, people found this more interesting than the Crumple-Horned Snorkack!
"Miracles," Sirius almost managed with a straight face.
Fred and George chose to celebrate this by hanging up a large banner in the Gryffindor dorm, the poster of Harry's face that they'd enchanted to shout 'Ministry are Morons' and 'Eat Dung Umbridge' loudly through the room.
All four boys got yet more laughter out of this, though Lily thought that was pushing it just a touch too far. Umbridge hadn't yet, but she half feared at this point the woman would show up and give the whole house detention.
The charm wore off after a few hours, and by the time night rolled around it was merely squeaking 'Dung,' and 'Umbridge.'
"I'm actually quite confident it would still be amusing," James corrected, thinking of some clever things he could do if he figured out the timing of those words.
Lily didn't argue the point even as she watched his calculating look with exasperation.
To the disappointment of people still chatting to Harry about the article, he excused himself for an early night as his scar began to prickle.
They hated how short lived Harry's happiness was, but before their eyes they saw he was already starting to twitch with unease again, rubbing at his scar, his eyes taking on that glazed look of pain all over again.
The dormitory was empty when he entered, sinking onto his bed and rubbing at his forehead which was paining him worse every moment. Hoping sleep would help, he laid down, and instantly fell asleep.
Lily shivered down to her bone even before Sirius could catch his breath to keep going. Harry hadn't stopped rubbing his scar in here since it was mentioned, and he was looking just as sick as described. She wanted to make Sirius stop, to go get him a cold press for his forehead if that helped him even for a second, but she knew the truth, she was just delaying. They could all feel it was happening again, Harry's fingers trembling and him pulling into himself as some new terrible memory was resurfacing, and the faster they pushed through it the better.
He was standing in a dark, curtained room lit by a single branch of candles. His hands were clenched on the back of a chair in front of him. They were long-fingered and white as though they had not seen sunlight for years and looked like large, pale spiders against the dark velvet of the chair.
Sirius hung his head, shook it for a moment in agitation for having to be right about this, and then took a very long, deep breath before reading the latest travesty of Harry's life in having to see what Voldemort was up to. It was lost on no one this was yet another level of advanced, Harry now seeing directly into Voldemort's mind, the only thing that could be said was at least Harry hadn't been awake as well, he'd fallen asleep, so there was some consistency in this. Even that smallest moment of understanding and knowing one thing about this was of the vaguest comfort.
In the small pool of light was a huddled man. In a high cold voice resonating from Harry's throat, he spoke about how he'd been ill advised.
Sirius looked wildly around, and waited very impatiently for Harry to meet his eyes. He didn't quite manage it, looking more above his left ear, but Sirius said with such determination, that Harry felt he had no choice but to look him full on, "that is not you!"
Harry had no response for that, but clearly Sirius wasn't doing a thing until he got something, so Harry gave a wobbly nod to his head.
The kneeling man craved his pardon, Harry responding that it was not Rookwoods fault.
Sirius twitched harshly again at having to say that, Harry half expected him to chew off his tongue in frustration, but thankfully he didn't call Harry on it again, they all knew it was only in Harry's mind so that would be how he'd describe it.
Then he demanded Rookwood was sure of his facts?
Rookwood seemed to agree, having worked in that Department after all.
Harry responded that Avery had told that Bode would have been able to do it.
Rookwood corrected Bode, the man himself would know it, which is likely why he'd fought so hard against Malfoy's Imperius Curse.
Remus could feel the usefulness of this information relating to a past event they'd heard about, but for now he was far more concerned hearing Harry wake up already and filed it all away. Unless Voldemort was going to be revealing his mortal weakness, seeing Harry in such intense pain from remembering this would never be worth it.
Harry whispered for Rookwood to take to his feet, and the man was in such haste to do so he nearly fell to the floor again. Even having accomplished this, he still stayed stooped, as if terrified to meet Harry's face.
James felt a disgusted taste lingering in his mouth at such an act he could never comprehend. Such proud Death Eater's treating any man like this was beyond him.
Harry praised Rookwood for this, murmuring they would have to begin again on new schemes with this information. Then he asked that Avery be summoned to him.
For the moment he was alone, Rookwood scrambling out of sight to do as told, Harry turned and found an image of himself in a cracked mirror. His eyes were red with slits in a flat white skull.
Harry hollered loudly in pain, screaming no! Ron found him like this, tangled in his bed curtains.
Sirius closed his eyes in blessing that was finally over, his grey eyes looked ready to shatter as he looked back to Harry with more concern than he ever had for anyone in his life.
Harry wasn't looking at any of them, his eyes tight shut and his jaw aching from clenching it so hard to stop his own scream. He hated these visions, hated how they kept inexplicably reminding him of this connection to Voldemort he had no control over, but most of all he couldn't stand to look at his parents while they were happening. The monster that had cut their life short, and Harry kept reminding them of it all happening just by continuing to live.
Inexplicably, they refused to think the same. That was the only explanation for Lily saying in a tone he could have easily found in Molly Weasley, "Harry love, we should take a break."
He opened his eyes slowly, breathing steadily through his nose to find the pair huddled into each other with, well him in their lap. Maybe they just couldn't disconnect the two from the infant who'd done nothing to the life he was cursed to live dragging everyone else around him with.
"No," he whispered, still unable to look at any of them, how his dad and friends were probably trying to stop themselves laughing silly at how he had to fight back tears every time this happened, wondering when Ron would start accusing him of the boy who cried wolf as it seemed he couldn't go any length of time without panicking over something. "No, I just want to," he gestured vaguely back at his stupid biography, trying to grasp hold of anything to take away these poisonous thoughts from himself. He felt like a curse, any managing of happiness seemed destined to be dragged back into the reminder of how quickly he could lose all of it.
Sirius couldn't make himself immediately keep going, sick with worry as everyone else for just what was going through Harry's head. At least no one he'd cared about had been attacked this time, but for a reason his godson could not explain, the more frequent these visions, the more Harry seemed convinced his life was going to end in ruin. He couldn't imagine how these could continue to get worse, but surely if they were to get better he wouldn't be treating these like a death omen.
Remus had to nudge him hard to get his attention before whispering in his ear, "we can only help by continuing, that's proven to work already, don't let him dwell on whatever he's blaming himself for."
Sirius gave a jerky nod of agreement, fighting past blurry vision for the print again rather than focusing on his distraught godson.
Ron had to struggle with his friend for him to roll free, before demanding if his dad was okay, had that snake attacked again?
Not one of them could blame Ron for this assumption, they would have thought the same if they hadn't knowledge of what it had been.
Harry sat up wildly, convinced his forehead was on fire as he explained in gasping breaths what had happened. Ron at first couldn't grasp what had happened, Harry had seen You-Know-Who?
Harry shivered, his seat the only thing keeping him upright. He couldn't understand how Ron had never looked at him with revulsion like he felt for himself during this. Yet he'd found it no more in Ron's face than any of those around him. He wanted to believe that meant something, but he was too stuck in his own pit to grasp anything else except how much worse this was all going to get before these stopped, if they ever did.
Harry corrected he had been You-Know-Who.
Sirius at least looked a little quailed from his earlier outburst. Harry wasn't even referring to Voldemort by name, he was trying to put some distance into what he'd just witnessed. Harry could never really think he had more to do with Voldemort other than the constant...bother he was in Harry's life.
Then Harry went to talking about Rookwood, and Bode's involvement.
Ron realized that Bode was bewitched to remove something, the weapon.
That feeling of significance from before settled on all of them now, Ron and Harry working this out for them feeling like just a little weight had been pushed away so they wouldn't have to immediately speak of it again while in here. Sirius wished he could be closer to done with this already, he wanted to force Harry to take a break from all of this, but he seemed determined now. Any time Sirius stopped for too long or glanced towards the kitchen, Harry actually would meet his eyes. They were too hard, a distance in them he seemed unable to beat away, but he could still look at Sirius with an expression clearly saying he wanted past this and the only way to do that was for him to keep going.
The door opened then, Dean and Seamus entering. Harry straightened himself at once. Seamus had only just stopped thinking him a nutter, and he didn't want him thinking anything else odd was going on.
"Priorities," James managed to say. It came out far too high pitched, but Harry gave him credit for trying when he still couldn't stop rubbing at a scar that wasn't even paining him in here, only in his memories.
Ron kept himself close to Harry in the guise of getting himself some water as he told him he had to tell-
but Harry said he wasn't telling anyone anything. He wasn't supposed to have seen this at all because of his Occlumency, they wanted him to shut this out.
Both Sirius and Remus flinched like Harry had tried to curse them. In this future of trying to convince him he needed to stop these, now Harry had clearly convinced himself more than ever he should be keeping all of this to himself rather than asking for help.
James noticed, and said firmly, "Harry couldn't have told you even if he'd wanted to, there's no way he could get a note like that out." He finished internally he didn't even blame Harry at this point for not wanting to tell anyone else like Dumbledore. If the man couldn't be bothered to explain his actions towards ignoring Harry's existence than his son certainly shouldn't force himself to be in his company.
By they, he'd meant Dumbledore.
Sirius had looked just a bit better at James' reminder, but it was both of some comfort Harry hadn't meant him, and also just a touch more hurtful he hadn't crossed his mind in wanting to say something about this.
He got back into bed and rolled over so Ron couldn't do anymore, yet could not fall back asleep as his scar continued to burn across his forehead. He bit his pillow in his urge not to shout out in pain, as somewhere far away, Avery was being punished.
Lily made a high pitched noise of concern, her infant in her lap making some fussing noises at his mother's distress. She spent several moments just crooning to him it was all going to be alright while watching her elder child, who was watching back with a look she couldn't place.
The next morning, the two told Hermione all of this over morning break.
She quickly put it all together that this was why Bode had been killed. He'd been regaining himself back and could tell what had happened, and they couldn't have that. Malfoy must have done all this, as often as he was in the Ministry and all of his connections.
"This really is all making a disturbing amount of sense," Remus grumbled, this wasn't helping with their whole trying to change the subject thing. Of course it was a good thing Harry was finally getting some answers, it was absolutely fascinating one scrap of information and Hermione was putting all of this together so easily and saving them from false theories that would only hurt Harry in their speculation.
Harry agreed he'd been there the very day of his trial, though Arthur had only said he was trying to sneak down there for that-
Hermione cut him off by gasping out Sturgis. She realized that Sturgis had been another victim of all this, Malfoy must have tried the same ploy on him, shooting the curse in hopes of catching someone guarding the door, but the Imperiused Sturgis had been caught even earlier in his attempts to break in, hence where he was in Azkaban.
"Oh Merlin," Lily sighed as that was crammed down their throats. As if the Order wasn't suffering enough these days. They supposed if they'd thought about this one after the last revelation of where the weapon was being hidden they would have put this together, but considering all the terrible things they'd been trying to keep track of while also trying to keep Harry's mind off of them, it was almost a relief Hermione putting this for them.
Harry finishing now Rookwood seemed to have told how to really get that weapon, and would probably be sent to fetch it next.
Harry had hated his premonitions from the very beginning, almost afraid of this knowledge in his head he couldn't access in knowing these answers, and somehow the worst of all was the feeling he was getting for who it was that would be sent for this.
Hermione went from nodding in agreement, to abruptly telling Harry off for having seen this at all.
"Well he's hardly been given a suitable way not to," Sirius scowled for her sudden change.
Lily frowned deeply, wishing Severus had given something more useful to Harry than the same repetitive advice that clearly wasn't being of much help.
Harry was taken aback at her change, but Hermione sternly insisted he was supposed to be closing his mind to these things and should be practicing harder at his Occlumency.
"It's almost hurtful she thinks I'm not," Harry grumbled, shaking his head and honestly wishing this whole thing would quit being mentioned lately.
Harry was so angry with her he didn't speak to her the rest of the morning, and his day didn't improve from there. The students were still laughing loudly about the last Quidditch game, and Weasley is our King erupted so frequently in the corridors Filch banned it from sheer irritation.
"The first good thing that man's ever done," Remus groused, Harry's mood feeling like an infection. They hadn't kept him smiling for a whole chapter before his high anger was pushing them all back on edge.
The week wasn't going much better, he couldn't shake that dream, but didn't bring it up again as he knew Hermione would only further tell him off for it.
All four of them could be seen rolling their eyes as Hermione continued to act more like a paranoid parent than anything, it wasn't soothing any nerves she couldn't be of any more help than Snape with anything to say other than more practice at something that was just causing Harry pain.
He wished he could talk to Sirius about it, but as that was out of the question, he tried to keep the idea at the back of his head.
Sirius chewed on the inside of his cheek unhappily for a moment, but was all the more agitated he couldn't come up with anything to tell Harry either except more transparent hope.
Unfortunately, the back of his mind was no longer secure these days.
His next Occlumency lesson went the same as always, constantly finding himself on the floor with a swirl of memories, mostly from his primary years and Dudley's old humiliations on him.
"Oh because that's really going to make me feel better," James said bitterly, fighting back the urge more every moment to walk out of the room and find something to curse.
Snape had again cut the connection, and demanded to know what the last one seen was?
They all jumbled together so much for him, Harry thought he was asking about the toilet.
"Err," Remus began, unsure if he wanted an explanation or it would only make things worse.
"I was eight," Harry began prattling off just for the sudden possession of not having to think about magic for a moment, who ever would have thought being bullied by Dudley would be considered a simpler time for him. "Petunia had just got done cleaning the bathrooms, and Dudley was bored so he wanted to see her yell at me. He tried to pick me up and put me in so I'd have to walk around the house with wet feet. That's where the memory ended for Snape," he finished, but continued on even though he didn't really want to, Remus had been right the first time, this probably wasn't going to make them feel better. "I bit Dudley so I wouldn't go in though, and then I ran out of the house till I came back near dinner, which I was denied and locked in my cupboard for because Vernon said the the teeth marks were still there. He told Dudley to bite me back, but he didn't want to because he said it was gross. So I said back I thought I should spend the night in the bathroom, I'd already been throwing up all day from nicking him."
He finished and looked around at them again, expecting to see yet more anger or something, but instead he saw an almost proud smirk from James. "Always love hearing you gave them hell back."
Harry managed an honest grin at him, hoping he'd return the favor by telling him some story from his youth again, and James happily provided. "Reminds me of the time Sirius bit Remus, and we got into this whole argument about what would happen if a werewolf bit a person while he was still human."
Harry busted out laughing more from surprise than anything as he demanded the obvious from his godfather, "why did you bite him?"
"I told him if he took one more of my sugar quills I would," Sirius shrugged, "he clearly didn't take me Siriusly."
Harry doubled up laughing all the harder while Remus rolled his eyes at the lot of them and tried to take the book away from Sirius to keep going. Sirius bared his teeth, Remus rolled his eyes harder, but Sirius kept going.
Snape corrected the one with the kneeling man in the dark room.
Harry denied knowledge of it as Snape tried to bore into Harry's eyes. Remembering eye contact was key in catching a lie in Legilimency, Harry looked away.
"I'm disturbed he's parted wisdom on you," James tisked even as he approved of this.
Snape was not fooled, asking how that particular place wound up inside his head?
"He has a very vivid imagination," Sirius snarked.
Harry tried to play it off as a dream, but Snape cut him off by demanding if Potter remembered why Snape was giving up his evenings for this tedious work.
"As opposed to counting your friends again?" Remus smirked.
"All none of them," Sirius agreed.
Lily frowned lightly at them, and James who wasn't bothering to repress a smile. She may be angry at Snape for treating Harry the way he was, but she still knew she'd never devolve into such petty insults.
Harry responded it was to learn Occlumency.
Snape said that Potter was correct and dim as he was, Harry finally looking back to him with hatred,
"That went without saying," James groused, Lily's eyes flashing in agitation again at once. Even for the one second she'd wanted to defend him it was gone again as he continued insulting her boy who in no way deserved it.
he would have expected after two months some progress. Then he asked how many more of these dreams had occurred?
Harry lied and said no more.
Again, Snape did not believe him, then asked if Potter was even trying? Perhaps he enjoyed these visions, thinking it made himself special, important.
Harry snapped how untrue this was.
Snape coldly responded that was true, he was in no way special or important. It was not of his business what the Death Eaters got up to.
Harry shot back that was Snape's job.
Sirius cocked his head to the side, some amusement for Harry snapping at him in there, but mostly wanting to make the jab Harry could do Snape's job and they wouldn't need the man around at all. It was all lost though before he'd even formed the idea, he still didn't want Harry having to deal with this, let Snape take the risk.
There was a glint in Snape's eyes as he whispered that was true at least.
"You impressed him," Lily said, narrowing her eyes curiously at such a response.
"I think I'm going to faint," James declared, they all looked astounded Snape hadn't just told Harry to shut his mouth again.
Then he at once pushed Harry into going again, hardly waiting past the count of three before Legilimens was used on Harry, and again he was flying through a whirl of memories. He was surrounded by a hundred dementors, he could see their shapeless mouths coming closer, but then he was back in Snape's office, the two overlapping each other and wobbling...Harry collected himself long enough to shout 'Protego.'
"Oh dear," Lily turned flat white in shock, but she hadn't a second to say anything even if she could have hazard a guess what this would do.
It did nothing to stop the flood of memories, but suddenly they weren't Harry's. A little boy sat in the corner crying as an unfamiliar man with a hooked nose shouted at a cowering woman with greasy black hair- a teenager sat alone cursing flies off his ceiling- a girl was laughing as a scrawny boy was thrown from a bucking broomstick-
She wasn't sure if Sirius just didn't care, or didn't know what that would do, but by the time he'd realized it, he'd simply kept going until he ran out before looking around at his friends with a contemplative look on his face.
"Well, err, I recognized that last one," Remus said awkwardly for Harry. "That was Mary Macdonald laughing anyways, our flying practice during first year."
Harry hardly heard him, the same stunned look on his face as the rest of the boys, before they all looked to Lily, who sighed deeply. "I'm not telling you, it's private." She said flatly without looking at any of them.
The fact that she knew what that first memory was about somehow made it even more awkward for them. Still, Sirius turned back with the same look on his face he always did when reading about Snape, he didn't consider how a parent treated you any excuse for what the guy kept doing to Harry.
Snape cut these off, Harry falling back as if shoved in the chest. He again found himself on the floor, looking up at his potions teacher.
Snape spoke in a carefully controlled voice that had actually been of some improvement, brushing his hand against the Pensive that was again in the room, as if checking to make sure the rest of his memories in there were intact.
"And now we see why," James muttered, his eyes still narrowed as he thought back to many insults he'd made in the past, and actually feeling a little bad for a few of them. He knew Snape would never do the same though, Snape knew everything Harry had gone through in his life and continued to treat him the exact same way.
Harry did not speak, feeling in the most danger yet. He was reeling that the same crying child had grown into a man with such loathing gazing down at him.
Lily had a hard time swallowing for a moment, stinging tears in her own eyes as vivid memories from her own childhood resurfaced. Realizing he'd run to her house in the dead of night and throwing rocks at her window until she came sneaking down. The two staying up in their little grove till sunrise wishing there was some escape from those who hated them. At least her own parents had been a bridge between her and her sister, and she'd tried to be that for Sev and his parents, but it had never truly worked, and she'd never even bothered to find out if it got better after she'd stopped speaking to him. She blinked back into the room to find James with his arm tight around her, brushing at the baby's hair and actually holding his tongue against whatever that look meant until she nodded to Sirius to keep going.
Snape instructed Harry to get to his feet, they were going again. Harry did so with dread, knowing he was about to pay for what he'd just seen.
Sirius ground his teeth together hard in frustration for that. Harry was about to be punished again for something from Snape's past.
Harry had not a second to collect himself before it started again, but this time he was revisiting the dark corridor from his memories. As always he ran down, and the blue light was peeking through again. Harry reached for it, and this time, the door opened.
He was in a circular room with floor and ceiling black as night, even more doors on every side of him, the only light coming from blue candles mounted on the walls. He had to keep going, push through into one of the next doors- but then he was back in Snape's office, the man glaring at him with more anger than ever.
Harry gasped wildly, startling so bad he nearly fell out of his seat. Sirius glanced to him in concern, then looked to the others for some sort of explanation. They all looked just as stunned though, unable to understand what was happening here.
"Harry's never been this far before, and Voldemort shouldn't have either!" Lily protested what she was hearing vehemently. "No one should be seeing this!"
"Maybe, maybe Rookwood has though," James ruffled up his brow as he considered the latest Voldemort news. "He worked in this place, right? So he would have shown Voldemort everything he'd seen, and now, now Harry knows as well," he finished sounding just as confused as when he'd started.
"Should it really work like that though?" Harry sounded just as panicky as his mother. "I don't want to know this, see this! I don't want all of his memories and anything he knows in my head!"
He sounded so desperate and panicky by the end, it truly broke the others hearts to see him like this.
"Oh Harry," Lily pleaded, letting the words tumble out on pure instinct. "You can't keep thinking like that-"
"How else am I supposed to think when it keeps being shoved at me!" He snapped back, but Lily wouldn't be deterred.
"You remind yourself why you're doing this! If you want Voldemort out of your head, then you work on every available way to do that! You're worried Voldemort's taking over your life then you remind yourself of all the people who are on your side and fighting to get rid of him!"
Harry kept watching her like he hoped she'd keep going, but she met his eyes and waited as they ebbed back into that calm, that understanding that had pushed him to cope with every terrible thing he'd relearned while here.
She nodded fiercely and waved Sirius on. It seemed to take him a moment, to watch the fifteen year old girl crying over the loss of her childhood friend be flipped into that mother who refused to see her child fall into the same hopeless feeling. He went back to reading with a smile of pride on his face.
He was panting as though he really had experienced all this in person.
Harry couldn't believe how grateful he actually felt towards Snape for stopping this. It was the first time in his life he looked past the hateful potions teacher and knew Snape could actually be of some help to his life if he'd quit insulting him every step along the way.
Snape demanded Harry explain that one, and Harry rubbed at a lump on the back of his head from falling down again while honestly saying he had no clue what that had been, he'd never been that far before-
Snape cut in hatefully he wasn't working hard enough!
Harry rubbed at where the lump used to be, suddenly more ashamed than ever for is poor Occlumency skills. His mother was right, and so was Snape, he'd never really tried to do this. It was of some comfort to him his father and friends rolled their eyes for Snape's jab, that they weren't blaming Harry for this...yet. He pulled away from that at once, there would never be a time they'd blame him because of whatever this connection was, right?!
Potter was lazy, and sloppy, it was no wonder the Dark Lord was-
Harry cut in to ask why Snape called him that, he'd only known Death Eaters to refer to him as such.
Snape opened his mouth, a crude retort clearly awaiting, when a woman screamed.
Sirius startled so bad he nearly dropped the book from surprise. Then he cast his mind out before anyone could get too panicky, and said the first thing that came to mind. "Finally, something entertaining is happening around there!"
Remus gave him a look of great concern as he demanded, "just what could a scream be used for as a good thing?"
"For shame Moony!" Sirius wagged his finger in his face. "Scream of surprise, scream of delight, hell even screaming in laughter! Don't get so dower on me a scream is only a bad thing now."
"I worry about him," Lily told James in an almost conversational tone of voice.
James agreed, but instead he told him, "well get on with it then, or we'll be spending the next hour with you recanting the last time you made a girl scream, and no one wants to hear that again."
Sirius rolled his eyes but complied anyways.
They both looked sharply to the ceiling, Snape asking if Potter had seen anything this would relate to on his way down here?
"Someone standing in the middle of the school screaming? Oh yeah, just slipped my mind," Remus rolled his eyes.
When Harry said no, Snape strode out, and Harry only hesitated a moment before following.
"I'm not even sure why you hesitated," James scoffed.
The scream appeared to have resonated from the large ring in the Entrance Hall, and Harry have to shove his way to get a view. The first face he registered was across the ring, McGonagall looked faintly sick at the proceedings.
Lily felt goosebumps erupt on her at this. If whatever was happening was upsetting McGonagall, but she wasn't stepping in, then what the bloody hell could be happening!?
Then he fully saw Trelawney in the middle, looking more mad than ever. She'd clearly fallen down the last flight of steps, her hair was flyaway and her glasses askew, all of her beads in a pool around her as if she were melting. Even her luggage looked strewn around at her feet. She was gazing up at someone Harry couldn't quite see, who must be standing at the foot of the stairs.
"What in the world..." Remus tried, and failed, but the shock was keeping them all from saying much of anything, Sirius hurrying through words so fast they were mashing together. None of them had a very fond feeling for Trelawney, but it was impossible to believe she was a spectacle without anyone stepping in to whatever mayhem this was!
Trelawney shrieked this wasn't true, she couldn't accept it!
A girlish voice responded surely this wasn't a surprise.
Harry finally got around the last person to see Umbridge, brimming with glee as she gazed down, her voice more feminine than ever with her own delight as she explained that though Trelawney was incapable of predicting the weather, she must have seen this coming.
"You have got to be kidding me!" Lily shrieked, the baby in her lap now fussing in his blankets in her lap. "That is, this isn't, how could she-" she forced herself to stop screaming because her child had joined in, but the anger wasn't being cooled one little bit.
"Why can't this stupid curse kick in early already," Remus scowled. "I want her gone well before the end of the year, like the staircase collapsing on her right now!"
Sirius was too shocked to keep going for a moment. Like Harry had said before, this had been forthcoming with how obvious it was Trelawney may not be around the rest of the year, but no one could have foreseen such a brutal showing like this.
Trelawney had tears pouring down her face as she stated this couldn't happen, Hogwarts was her home!
"Does she even have anywhere else to go?" Remus whispered. He really didn't know much about her except for her classes, but suddenly he wondered if she was like Hagrid, if she had no other place to call home like a few of the other teachers did.
He hadn't expected an answer, and it was probably kinder he hadn't gotten one, no one wanted to consider the alternative.
Umbridge stated this was her home,
"This is..." sick didn't begin to cover it, but James was failing to come up with another word. He'd never even seen some of the Death Eaters out there enjoy watching someone else in so much pain, in such a public way!
until an hour ago when the Minister had co-signed the Order of Dismissal. Umbridge requested Trelawney escort herself off the property, she was embarrassing them.
"How she dare!" Lily was still fired up over every detail of this. "Them! She's no right to put herself in line with anything to do with that school, with a decision no respectable person would ever dream of putting together!"
Even as she said it, her own gloating euphoria didn't dim, she was clearly enjoying the show as Trelawney sobbed in place. There were some muffled crying to Harry's side as well, and he glanced over to see Lavender and Parvati clutching each other with tears in their own eyes.
James was shaking his head in honest sympathy for the two. Though he couldn't imagine just standing around crying during this scene, he knew he would have been in Umbridge's face telling her what's what about this even for a teacher he didn't like. The woman may have the audacity to kick a teacher out of his school, but she couldn't force that teacher to leave the premises...yet.
Then his mind offered one last desperate hope, where was Dumbledore? Surely he'd find some way to stop this? The idea was dashed as soon as it had appeared though, as Dumbledore hadn't seemed to be doing much of anything these days.
McGonagall did step in then, marching to Trelawney's side and offering her a handkerchief and a firm arm around her shoulders.
Lily finally felt herself relaxing, just a touch, as she hummed with approval. McGonagall could always be counted on to offer up some comfort to those who needed it, she was still stunned it had taken this long for their old Transfiguration teacher to step in for this injustice.
McGonagall comforted Sybil she wouldn't have to be leaving anywhere, while Umbridge tried to contest whose authority Minerva had to be saying that?
The front doors opened in that exact moment, and Dumbledore made his entrance.
"I feel the need to reiterate the book now," Sirius beamed, "what an entrance."
Remus smacked him lightly and called him an idiot even as he was smiling as well. Finally Dumbledore's timing felt like it was back on their side.
What he'd been doing on the front lawns was anyone's guess, but he swooped right in on the scene and informed Umbridge that was not her position to claim.
Umbridge made a tinkling laugh as she said she was afraid Dumbledore had misunderstood the position she was in.
"I'm afraid you've misplaced your soul, but I won't be the one getting it back from the dementor," Remus groused.
"Actually, I heard that if a dementor kissed her, she'd suck out its soul," James stated.
Sirius laughed, the first time he'd really been able to do so when mention of those things had come up.
She again flashed the Order of Dismissal, and her role as High Inquisitor gave her power to fire Trelawney, whom she'd deemed not up to scratch.
Harry waited for Dumbledore's reaction, but he only continued to smile.
"What's he got up his sleeve?" James demanded with sudden eagerness, his kindling of hope finally being given life again Dumbledore would pull through on making this actually somehow better.
Dumbledore did not argue that she had the right to dismiss his teachers, not not to ban them from the grounds, that was still his ruling.
Trelawney tried to cut in through her sobs she would not be somewhere she was not wanted-
but Dumbledore kindly cut in it was his wish for Sybil to remain here with them.
"Ha!" Sirius barked in triumph, all five of them seconds away from pumping the air in victory. "Dumbledore's not going to let Trelawney just walk away from this!"
Harry was still grinning along with the rest of them even as he distantly wondered if Dumbledore had some ulterior motive for this other than just proving a point to Umbridge. He wondered if he was growing paranoid, surely Dumbledore didn't have to have a second reason for doing everything.
He turned and asked McGonagall to escort Sybill back to her lodgings, and McGonagall kindly did so, Sprout hurrying forward to Trelawney's other side. Flitwick came up behind them and enchanted her luggage as the four went back up the stairs.
"I love this place," Remus said wistfully. His best memories had been collected in those walls, and now he was adding another from a time outside his own. He'd never underestimated how lucky he was to even be going there, to be treated like any other student on a daily basis, and now he was getting the fortune of watching the teachers band together for one of their own again. He didn't even pity Umbridge, but continued waiting impatiently for that toad to be ostracized from such a place already, for daring to tamper with such a home for so many.
Umbridge watched all this with a frosty expression, and demanded of him what was to be done with her when the new Divination teacher was appointed and needed lodgings?
"You'd have to put her in that exact place eh?" Sirius said poisonously. "No other bloody room in that grand castle would be good enough, you also need to invade her room!"
"Dumbledore won't let her," James said with conviction once again, even this small win of Dumbledore's against Umbridge had finally restored his lacking faith in his old headmaster.
Dumbledore pleasantly informed that wouldn't be a problem, his new Divination teacher would prefer a ground floor.
"He works fast," Lily said slowly as they all paused in confusion of this. Apparently this had all taken place in less than an hour, which means someone very close to the Minister must have warned Dumbledore this was fixing to go down and the man acted lightning fast in getting a replacement set even before Umbridge had gotten the paper herself. It couldn't have been Percy, but they couldn't think of anyone else who'd know about this and been able to warn Dumbledore in time for him to go fetch, well whoever was getting the new job.
Umbridge shrilly cut in he'd found a new teacher? By Decree number Twenty-two-
Dumbledore cordially said that the amendment was only there if, and only if, the Headmaster was unable to find his own teacher, and on this happy occasion he had succeeded.
All three Marauders burst out laughing, a near euphoric mood at their headmaster pushing such a loophole into that doughy face!
He waved back to the grounds of the school still visible from the left open doors, and offered to introduce him now. Only the soft sound of hooves was warning before half a man stepped into the light, with pale blond hair matching his palomino body on his horse half.
Dumbledore announced this was Firenze.
Harry gave an awkward smile for this announcement amongst the shocked faces. His only memory of the centaur wasn't a particularly fond one even if his life had been saved by him.
"Well, who would have seen that coming?" Sirius blinked in surprise.
"This certainly is, unprecedented," Remus agreed as Sirius passed Harry the book, very obviously keeping it open for his spot with an obvious look at James who didn't get it.
Lily ignored the lot of them. Though happy Trelawney got some kind of win out of this, couldn't help but say, "well considering he once saved Harry's life, let's at least hope he won't pick up on Trelawney's trend of telling Harry he's going to die."
HPHPHPHP
Glory this was an emotionally messy chapter!
#Harry Potter#fanfiction#reading the books#OotP#Marauders#Jilly#James Potter#Lily Potter#Remus Lupin#Sirius Black
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