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Made in HollandI had never heard of a music box before she let me hold it. She said it felt too cliché to be real, and thats how she knew that there wasnt any such thing. But I could feel its weight in my hands and hear the tinny tune of its labor, and I started to think that maybe she was wrong.
She said you couldnt trust a musician, and thats all it was. A tiny, plastic, fake of a musician. She even said the sticker on the back had lied, and that it probably wasnt Made in Holland. Probably not any of the other European tourist countries, she said.
When it got so cold that we couldnt feel our fingertips and the sky hurt to look at, I played the music box and pretended I was Made in Holland too.
The LispMarietta suspected strongly by the end of the week, but had little opportunity to pinpoint any proof. She spent every spare moment with Henry in the subtle pursuit of slipping him up, jarring the conversation into unexpected turns. Yes became a rather indifferent okay or alright, no matter how many different ways she managed to ask for affirmation. He veered around plurals and possessives as if they were road kill.
How many balloons are there? she asked.
Eight, said Henry.
Not seven? It looks to me like there are seven.
Henry stiffened but didnt back down. Huh. I thought I noted one more.
You mean you thought you spotted it? Saw it, maybe? Noticed it, even?
Henry tied the balloons to the chair and turned to face her.
I didnt note it, he said.
And that was the end of that.
Marietta wondered if she was the only one to detect
The Man in the Bowler HatIn his defense, the man at the door looked more pathetic to Lydia than a red sock on laundry day. He gripped the wet bowler hat with two clenched fists, dripping considerably on her Wipe Your Paws welcome mat. She had trouble keeping her eyes open long enough to glare at him.
Four in the morning, she said. You know, like the little hand on the four, except you have a tad trouble seeing it, what with it being dark outside?
Miss, I know it might come as a shock to you, but-
Shock? No. Surprisingly, things dont seem very shocking at you-must-be-kidding-me oclock. The milk hasnt even come yet. You have me up earlier than the milk.
The man with the bowler hat studied the dahlias hanging over the archway of the front door. They were salmon, the color of doubt. We found her, Miss. And she wants to see you. We found her and she wants to see you as soon as you can.
Lydia was already searching for her shoes
Reunited (Sirius BlackXReader)
It had been a regular evening for you sitting in your home at Spinners end until Remus appeared in your fireplace causing you to let out a shriek.
"Relax it's just me" Remus chuckled dusting himself down before walking over to you.
"What possessed you to floo here?!" You asked confused while hearing your heart beating erratically.
"Dumbledore restarted the Order he sent me to collect you" Remus explained.
"And you couldn't have owled?" You glared at him.
"I could have but where's the fun in that?" Remus replied. You shot him another glare and agreed to go with him. You packed a bag when Remus told you, you would be staying at the order hesdquarters and went back out to him. He held out his hand for you to take and when you took it he apparated you to Grimmauld place.
"A little warning next time you asshole!" You groaned picking yourself up from the floor.
"Hehe my bad (Y/n) now come on there's someone who's dying to see you" Remus laughed making everyone in the kitchen shut
I, ResurrectedYou make a point of turning your back on him as you dig. Albert moans lightly, but, except for increasing the ferocity of your digging, you don't respond. There's no going back now. You've returned your library books, the shopping's done, and all that's left is to bury Albert and you'll be back on top of things.
The trouble is, Albert really doesn't seem to want to stay buried. This is, after all, the sixth attempt so far, and he just keeps turning back up and knocking on the door. It's getting ridiculous, to be honest. The yard is riddled with makeshift graves, and the stake you tried to send through his heart is discarded by the last one. His heart, impossibly enough, is still attached.
Albert moans again and when you look up, you see the dog licking his mouth. "Mr Tickles," you admonish, "come away from him!" The dog whines up at you. "Oh, come here, you stupid mutt." You pat him twice and send him home to the lady next door. He's probably been responsible for several of Albert's gr
Fresh HellShe missed the first sign that something wasn't right, and the second flashed past so quickly she mistook it for a misunderstanding. By the third sign it was getting a little more obvious, but still not enough to spark her curiosity.
The fourth sign, the one that should really have made her realise she wasn't alone, was the lovely scent of vanilla. She'd set her air freshener in the kitchen deliberately - it was one of those "spray when someone enters the room" types, and she'd left it focused on the door. She, meanwhile, was in the bedroom when the scent wafted around her. She put it down to lingering scent from an earlier spray.
The fifth sign occured late at night. She slept through it.
And so it continued, sign after sign of another presence in her house being ignored, misconstrued or simply unnoticed. She remained blissfully unaware and he, for his part, made good use of her ignorance. He had come from rags to riches, Hell to Heaven, and he was determined to make the most of it.
It's Always Blackest Before the ThroneCurriculum Vitae
Snake Cult Leader
General in the Legions of Shagamemnon
Reason Left Last Job:
Green, three-boobed alien women wanting to be taught the Earth-concept of love.
Has own armour (black leather with spikes).
Interviewer’s notes: This guy seems perfect!
I realise there is no way for me to get this letter to you but I feel in need of a sympathetic ear at the moment.
Things haven’t been going too well. I thought the dungeon was the way to go in order to gain power and riches but people somehow completely misinterpreted the whips and chains. Thought it was a place offering… erotic satisfaction. It all made me terribly uncomfortable.
So I gave up and swapped genres from Fantasy to Sci-Fi. But things didn’t improve and now I appear to have ended up in Gritty Realism. I’ve managed to get a minimum w
Forbidden love (Lucius MalfoyXReader) part 5You currently sat by Black lake your mind replaying what happened since before and during Christmas.
Remus stood in fun of you in his dorm holding your hands looking nervous.
"There's......something I need to tell you" He started.
"Your gay?" You guessed.
"What?! No I'm not gay!" Remus shrieked.
"What I'm about to tell you, you have to promise not to tell anyone not even James or Sirius" Remus said almost pleadingly.
"Ok" You nodded starting to feel nervous now.
"(Y/n)......Im.......... A werewolf" Remus whispered looking at the floor.
"A werewolf?" You asked after a few seconds. Remus nodded and you sighed in relief making him confused.
"Merlin I thought you were dying or something!" You said making Remus look at you confused.
"What?....Your not scared?" Remus asked confused.
"Remus I've had my suspicions for a while the way you always disappear on the full moon, your scars the way you tensed up when I asked could you help me with our essays we had to do on
Some Manner of Shocking TwistDear Miss MacAbre,
I have a somewhat embarrassing problem. As a recently deceased usurper of the throne, I’m having some difficulty adjusting to the afterlife. I understand that’s totally normal, and I’ve been very impressed by the advice on offer. The leaflet I was given upon arrival—So You’ve Been Besieged by an Army of Guys Dressed Like Trees and Your C-section Rival Lopped Your Head Off—was both helpful and unnervingly specific. I’ve taken everything it says on board and, though it’s hardly smooth sailing, I feel that I’m making good progress. My wife, who died shortly before me, seems to have acclimatised much more quickly and has already succeeded in gaining employment with a local magazine.
My real problem is that while I am content to slowly adjust to life after death, my wife is pressuring me to commit regicide once again. This causes no end of worry, as not only did it not work out so well for me last
Black Throne White Noise “Another mead.”
The barmaid slid the mug across the bar, watching in fascination as the leather-clad patron tipped his head back, angled the drink over the slotted faceplate of his helmet, and poured. It wasn’t exactly neat, but the chugging noises suggested that it was at least effective, and that was something.
“Hey, honey,” said the regular with the ample bosom and prominent Adam’s apple. “That’s quite a talent you’ve got there. And I like your style. Want to make me scream like a baby?”
“No.” He set the mug down and sighed.
There was a pause. The barmaid dunked a dirty glass into a bucket of water.
“This is really going to bother me if I don’t ask...are you a man or a woman?”
“Honey,” said the regular, “I can b
Bowie Day (FFM 26)I’m just reaching the peak of the arpeggio when my voice snaps like a twig.
I hiss plumes of colourful profanity – bad idea – that quickly degenerate into a great hacking cough. That very same cough has haunted me ever since the laryngitis; I run for the tap. Did anyone ever tell you that attempting to drink while coughing is a truly dreadful idea? No? Well, they should have. It results in a saga of cough, drink, choke, and literally repeats ad nauseum.
At some point during this lovely display, Cameron enters the room, looking concerned.
“Carmel, babes, you sound like shit – can you sing?”
I grimace. “Judging by my extremely scientific self-assessment, my vocal chords have gone on strike. Lost a full third of my top notes. It’s not looking good, Cam.”
Any other night this wouldn’t have been a problem. But tonight’s my night on lead, and instead of my usual flirtatious coloratura soprano, I’m cur
Harry Potter according to Facebook (includes ocs)
Harry Potter had friended Albus Dumbledore, Sirius Black and 7 others.
Sirius Black likes this
Harry Potter - Sirius Black
'Finally you get on Fb it's about time'
Sirius Black: Stfu Harry it's hard to get Wi-Fi here
Harry Potter: Well maybe you should pay for it instead of using your neighbours
Ron Weasley has updated his relationship statues to 'it's complicated'
Dailia Malfoy likes this
Bee Holmes: It's complicated?! We're either dating or not damit
Ron Weasley has updated his relationship statues to 'in a relationship' with Bee Holmes
Harry Potter: whipped much
Ron Weasley: shut up Harry
Lucius Malfoy has uploaded a photo and tagged Draco Malfoy 'baby photos FTW'
Dixon Malfoy, Remus Lupin, Harry Potter and 19 others like this
Draco Malfoy: FATHER REMOVE THOSE RIGHT NOW!
Lucius Malfoy: lol nope
Dailia Malfoy likes this commented
Pansy Parkinson: AWWW MY DRAYKIE IS SO CUUUUTE
Lizz Lucif: Bitch back the fuck off
Draco Malfoy likes this comment
Lincoln LogsLincoln Logs, she said.
You dont like them?
She smoothed out the wrapping paper on her lap and frowned. I asked for that poetry book. You know, the one with the picture of the tree on the front?
And I had planned on getting it for her until I saw the little sticker with the price on the back.
You cant build a house out of poetry, I said.
She burst into tears, and I got the feeling it was the wrong thing to say.
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