Nope this isn’t a traditional rose, but then we aren’t always that traditional :) but it is a flower for my wife on Valentines Day, I haven’t been posting much lately because, well, life it just gets in the way sometimes. But after almost 9 months apart we are finally together in the same country, the same house and wake up next to each other each morning :)
I’m starting a new life in the PNW in the good old US of A, after arriving late at night in a snow storm!!, but the sun is shining today, just have to find a job now :)
Being an old fashioned englishman not prone to public outburst, well not too often I just wanted to use today as an excuse to shout out loud and proud just how much my girl means to me.
We are not teenagers anymore and have both been through shitty times, but my wife to me is the best, and I am the luckiest man around!! she has this amazing strength to still see the world in all its colour and happiness, where she sees a glass half full, i always used to think someone would steal the glass let alone it was half empty, she has an energy that astounds me, an wonderful intelligence and open mind that makes our discussions about the world and all it diversity endlessly enjoyable even when we agree to disagree as sometimes happens, we did grow up on separate sides of the globe, but its all good. She has taught me to be more patient and understanding not something i have often been famous for. We balance each other and when she does get tired i will be there to hold her and protect her.
Married can mean: best friends with super duper loads of benefits!! so special girl here is a golden flower thats shines through all weathers and makes me smile, just like you ha ha!!
Y/N moved to Mystic Falls, Virginia a year ago in the hopes of starting over. She wanted to be something other than a hunter, she had always hated that life and one day, she left it. Of course, Mystic Falls is overrun with supernatural creatures, but most of them seem to be good so she doesn’t have to kill them. None of her new friends know about her past, but now there’s a supernatural creature on a killing spree in and around Mystic Falls. How long will it be before her past catches up with her?
Pairing/s: Klaus x Caroline (Mentioned), Fem!Reader x Caroline x Bonnie x Elena (Platonic), No others yet
Characters: Fem!Reader, Damon Salvatore, Stefan Salvatore, Caroline Forbes, Elena Gilbert, Bonnie Bennett, Jeremy Gilbert, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel. Klaus Mikaelson, Matt Donavon & Tyler Lockwood (Mentioned)
"Saint Patrick's Day!" A Zootopia Drabble that will be harder to read if your drinking
“Now you see why I like to come here occasionally” nick said, gesturing up to a wooden sign that had “the red fox” carved into it, along with a reddish carving of an ancient fox.
“Yep, just as I thought” Judy said rolling her eyes.
“Now despite the old look of that sign, it’s a pretty modern place inside”
“I’ll take your word for it, but next time we’re going to a bar that has ‘bunny’ or ‘rabbit’ in the title”
“Then I look forward to it carrots”
“Just don’t wear that outfit next time. You look like such an idiot” Judy said, looking over Nick’s clothes for the the hundredth time that day. It consisted of a greener variant of his standard Hawaiian shirt, but rather than an assortment of random plants, this one was covered in 4 leaf clovers. His tie had the 6 colors of the rainbow streaking down it, with a pot of gold at the tip.
“It’s saint Patrick’s day, carrots. I have to be in the spirit, Unlike you”
Earlier in the day, when Judy first laid eyes on Nicks crazy outfit, the fox had pinched her because the bunny’s attire did not have any green in it. After that Judy went home and changed into a green shirt so Nick would shut up about not being in spirit.
“Of course even without the shirt I have a natural green color” Nick pointed to his eyes. “Now come on”
The couple walked into the pub, which, on the inside, looked a lot cleaner than you would have thought. A couple of mammals were busy playing pool and talking to each other, while at one end of the bar a weasel had fallen asleep resting his head on the counter and hugging a small chair cushion.
Nick and Judy sat down at the bar and the bartender came over. Nick ordered a blueberry flavored alcoholic beverage and made sure to get a carrot flavored one for Judy.
“I know what you like” Nick said, handing her the drink once the bartender came back.
“Not that it’s hard to guess that I like carrots, you’ve know me for a while and I’m a bunny after all”
“Well maybe not all bunnies like carrots” nick said sarcastically as he shrugged “Although that would surprise me. But I know for a fact that you do like carrots, carrots”
Judy chuckled as the pair clinked their glasses together before drinking the liquid inside.
“What do you want to do tomorrow?” Nick asked
“I guess just hang around the apartment, maybe watch TV or play a game, snuggle, the usual. Oh! Wait! We could also get some extra case work done”
“I prefer the former”
“I knew you would”
The bartender made sure Nick and Judy always had full glasses as the couple continued to talk about little things. Time went by and soon the sleeping weasel woke up and left, and another mammal came into the bar and asked the mammals playing pool to give him their clothes. But Nick and Judy were to busy with each other to notice anything.
Soon a bunch of empty glasses lay on the bar, and the pair was speaking in slightly distorted voices.
“Want to play a ( hic ) game?” Nick asked
“What’s……. it about”
“It’s called lucky 7” Nick said gesturing to the bartender.
The bartender brought over 2 trays with 7 shot glasses on them, all filled with a different liquid.
“The object is to dri-drink all 7 as quickly… as possible”
“Your on” Judy said, a determined look going across her face.
“Ready” nick said taking a glass in his paw “go!”
Both fox and rabbit quickly lifted the glasses to their mouths and downed the substance inside before moving onto the next glass. The pair took glances at each other to see where the other one was at. Within a few seconds, all the glasses were dry.
“DONE!” Both yelled at the same time as they set down the last glass.
“Rematch?” Judy said
“Actually that was the last we had of… almost all of those drinks” the bartender said.
“Well then… we’ll do it later… and I’m ( hic ) sure that I’ll win” nick said leaning on Judy.
“Prepare to eat your words” Judy said, playfully grabbing Nick by the tie.
For a few seconds the pair just looked into each other’s eyes before Nick spoke.
“Kiss me carrots. I’m ( hic ) Irish. Wilde is an……. Irish name”
Judy smiled before pulling Nick close and planting a kiss on his lips.
“Is there…. more where that came from?” Nick said smiling.
A few hours later Nick and Judy walked out of the pub, laughing together and leaning on each other. They hailed a cab and went back to Nicks apartment. Luckily the driver didn’t mind their laughter and hugging. After getting home, it took multiple tries for Nick to get his key into the lock and open the door. The pair stumbled inside and shared another kiss as Nick shut the door. They walked to the bedroom and crashed on top of the bed, splaying themselves out in an unusual position before quickly falling asleep together.
“Ohhh…..” Judy said waking up the next morning and rubbing her head. “What happened last Night?”
“Mmmmmm……. let me sleep” nick said in a muffled voice. “I don’t feel so good”
“Uhhhh…. same” Judy said, resting her face against Nick’s snout.
“But… I seem to remember…. that we had a good time together”
A smile spread across Nicks face.
“I seem to remember that as well” Judy said as she looked into Nicks half open eyes.
“Would you want to… do it again sometime?”
“Of course, sleepy fox” Judy said, planting a kiss on Nicks snout.
I’d like to thank my friend @crewefox for giving me some ideas for this. :D
Summery~ Murphy MacManus notices you at the bar of McGinty’s and promises himself that he will look after you when he sees a man taking your photo. Without telling you who he is, without telling Conner about you, Murphy goes on to live two completely different lives–that is until they have to merge in order to save you.
Fandom; Boondock Saints
Murphy MacManus x Reader
Warnings: It’s a Boondock Saints story, prepare for cursing and violence
The dark haired man picks up his last cigarette and slips it
between his teeth. You had been watching him all night, almost stalking the
man. He was interesting, the way he moves and the way he spoke, almost like an
“Another one, l-l-l-lass?” Doc sputters as he brings over
the bottle you were still drinking on. You spent most of your night at the bar,
drinking away at the whiskey Doc continues to pour in your glass. Once or twice
you accepted a cigarette off a stranger trying to take that empty stool beside
you, but you weren’t looking for that.
“Sure,” you smile at the old man, thanking him once your
glass was full again. He was always so kind to you. You knew you could ask him
for anything and he would be there for you, though you only knew each other
through your father’s business, which you still had no knowledge of.
“D-d-drink up.” He chuckles and walks away, limping over to
the two men who must have been brothers. The dark haired one sat up in his
booth to let the man slip in beside them.
It wasn’t as if you were looking for a hookup, because you
weren’t, but this man was insanely attractive and you felt your heart race any
time he would glance your way, never really seeing you. Or if he was, he was
very unattracted to you and you didn’t want to deal with that humiliation. It
was bad enough you were watching him, wondering what he may do next.
You sneak another glance at him. His eyes are piercing into
you. Bright blues connecting with your eyes from across the bar. It’s hard to
tell for a second, but his head tilts ever so slowly to the side as he sets his
elbow on the table, taking a drag from his cigarette and letting the smoke pour
out of his lips like a fountain. The corner of his mouth twitches up.
Heat rises to your cheeks and you turn away, drinking the
last of your drink and setting a few bucks on the bar to pay for the night. A
small thought enters your mind; Doc told them. He knew you were watching him,
knew you were secretly planning to take him home. But would Doc do such a
thing? He was mostly a quiet man when it came to your business. When men asked
about you, he simply told them you were his granddaughter and he would beat
their ass if they touched you.
Either way, you didn’t want to sit around and find out.
You grab your purse and get to your feet, ready to rush out
the door and head home, when you felt a presence lingering a few feet away.
It was the dark haired man. He was standing over you,
looking at you with those piercing blue eyes, a slight smirk on his face. “Where
ye goin’, lass?” He asks, that Irish accent flowing out of his lips so
“Um,” you blink a few times. Was this the alcohol working? “Home.”
You swallow and it feels like a lump in your throat, throbbing fast and almost
causing you to choke. You clear your throat and it’s still there. It’s hard to
speak. “Home, I think. I need to go home.”
Now with any other man, you may have been bold and asked him
out right then and there, maybe even flirted a little first. It was this man,
the Irish kid, that made it so hard to think about anything. He is stunning up
close as well as far away, his accent gives you goosebumps across your skin,
and that curved lip, the smirk…
He tilts his head to the left, then to the right, studying
you. His hand shoots up and he’s pulling you close by your hip. He’s strong, forceful,
but at the same time he’s gentle. “The man sitting behind us likes taking
pictures of you.” He whispers in your ear. His voice sends more chills down
You hesitantly place your hand on his chest and look up at
him. “How do you know?”
The man gently tilts your chin up, giving him a better view
of your reddened cheeks. “Ye are not the only one t’at watches, lassie.” He
winks and pulls you to the door with him, his hand still firmly on your hip as
he leads you.
The wind outside was rough and stung your face. You didn’t
think to grab a jacket before you left the apartment today and you weren’t
expecting to end up at a bar and stalk this cutie beside you for four hours
The street was bare of any other life, maybe a car or two in
the distance, but that was it. It’s nearing two in the morning, and you have
work in just a few hours. This wasn’t like you at all.
“Feelin’ any better?” He asks, walking down the street with
you. It should have been a sign to just run away. He may have other intentions
that just saving you from a creep-o inside, but you felt… safe with him.
“Actually, I do.” You feel him let go of you and you’re a
“It’s a wee bit chilly, here.” He shrugs his oversized coat
off and drapes it around your shoulders. “Aye, looks better on ye.” He
You pull the coat around yourself and his smell instantly
hits you. Beer and cologne. You close your eyes and picture him in the morning,
spritzing a little cologne on before heading out to the bar with his brother.
It was cheap, probably bought in a small corner store somewhere near here, but
regardless, it was masculine and fit him perfectly. Perhaps it has a little
drift wood in there.
“Are you sure?” You ask once you notice he was only wearing
a short sleeve v-neck.
He nods. “Aye. Name’s Murphy.” Both of you stop on the
sidewalk, far enough from the bar to feel a little safer. At least no creepy
men are taking photos of you.
“Y/N.” You smile, looking up at him. “Thank you. You’re such
“Dunno about t’at, sweetheart.” He rubs the back of his neck
innocently. “Jus’ don’t want ta have you hurt.” He smiles sweetly, modestly.
You decide this man was worth the late night. Seeing him in
the bar with his brother, he was hyper and a bit vulgar, though now he was completely
charming, caring, even.
“Will you walk me home?” You ask.
A flash of surprise crosses his face. “Aye.” He wraps his
arm around you, holding you close as he leads you down the sidewalk and closer
to your home.
I don't see why anyone likes you you're a piece of crap
I know right. Even I think that about myself :D matter of fact there are tons of reasons to Hate me which I’ve said several times before so lets count em down ^u^
Reasons to Dislike JaxBlade :)
I’m Overly Optimistic….like annoyingly so at times. I look at the glass Half Full and my lifes been crappy but I always see the good. A lot of pessimist people I met don’t like me cause they think I’m fake but hey Most of the time this is me appreciating the good times though to lead into my next one.
I can be a tad emo at times.…There are times where i feel like my friends dont like me at all, I’m burden to them and they are just being polite especially if we go long bouts without talking and i feel all alone and depressed and Kinda clingly. Luckily Im working on that day by day
I can be a Bit Cocky and Arrogant at times. I’m proud of my body and like to show it off cause I used to be fat and seeing myself improve eveyday gives me a slight ego boost and I like to show off.
I can be a such an Attention Whore: In so many areas xD especially If I’m at a place I like to be center of attention and take off my shirt to show off even though
I have mediocre results for a fitness person: I’ve working out since I was 16 and I’ve barely added that much mass to my frame. Speed and Strength have skyrocketed since back then but I’ve been working out Damn near 10 years and my physique honestly isnt that impressive even though I like to gloat
I’m kind of a Perv Not like peeking through windows and stealing womens under-roos but I love women, I love booty and I love breasts. I love the concept of an hour glass woman with curves in all the right places and thats the primary stuff of my Special blog
I can be the Biggest Dick if you’re an Asshole to my friends: when people insult me I gotta thank all those years of bully beatings for giving me tough skin cause i can get on but if someones fucking with a friend of mine or someone close I become like a fuckin supervillain and If they are out of shape and being an ass to my friends I let lose and break their self esteem. Luckily with all the meditation I do now I dont do that as much and focus on my day
I’m indifferent on a lot of things that people get upset over: Like a lot of people can be pissed off and ask me my opinion and Im usually like “yeah that sucks” and they get mad at me cause I’m like Meh. The last time i remember that was that Dear Fat people video that a lot of people bashed and while I personally didnt agree with how she was saying her message as a person who was beaten up and fat shamed and used that as motivation to get in shape. It honestly didnt bother me that much and I didnt think anything of it but a few people got mad at me cause they thought i was promoting fat shaming with my indifference
I’m all for Gay people and their rights: so Some people may call me a “Fag lover” or something cause Im supportive of the gay community BUT i do know something about me. I was at one of my Best friends’ , since we were 14, Wedding 2 years ago he’s gay and been that way since he said he was 12, and I met his husband there and his husband was cool and an awesome dude and I thought they were great. But when they said “Kiss the Bride”I looked away. and I notice I do that a lot when I hang out with my gay friends marcus and kevin and they kiss I just look away. I’m happy that they are happy and in love but seeing two men kiss makes me a lil uncomfortable SO I HAVE to work on myself to be a bit more liberal
I’m Black: so Racists hate me just cause of the melanin in my skin so theres that
The Brony thing: I used to be a Hardcore brony back in 2011-2012 till I dropped the term and now Im just a casual fan of the show. So Some people can dislike me because I watched it and others call me a poser and fake cause im in my Buddy Racebest’s Bronies React videos but i dont use the term brony for myself anymore since im just a casual fan of the show so theres that.
I Prefer Dubbed over Subbed anime
I’m kind of a Man whore
I’ve Lied to the ones I loved the most and the ones I was closest to because I was scared that they’d leave If somethings wrong with me I usually laugh it off and kind of do a Lie of omission if someone asks. So I need to work on being more open to people who care about me
I dont like the Pixar film Up xD and some people have legit told me they hate me for that and unfollowed me
I Quote my Bullying story a Sickening amount for Motivation and Inspiration for people.
I like seeing Criminals and bad people in general die in horrible ways and think they should be put down for the count instead of imprisoned.
If its not Fitness, Health, Exercise, Anime, Cartoon, Comic stuff I can be considered borderline retarded at points
I can be Overbearingly Overcaring for people I care about at points that I come off as Irritatingly clingy
And theres a WHOOOOOOOLE Lot More that I openly admit and all I can do is acknowledge it and work on bettering myself like a Redemption Arc Yeah like Kenshin when he went from Battosai to Heroic Samurai or Vegeta mass murdering warrior to Lovable Family Guy. Its gonna take some time but I’m willing to work on it But I’ve already accepted all my faults so I can use them to better myself
Warnings: M for some language. Don’t read if you’re sensitive about weight issues. Eventual smut not in this chapter.
There was something mesmerizing about having the ability to transform the human body, at least for Jimin it was. Countless of men and women with various shapes and sizes has come to him in hopes of improving their bodies for many reasons. Some to get used to a healthier lifestyle, others to gain muscle, or some to lose weight. His job as a personal trainer had its ups and downs. The worse was whenever a client wanted to quit the training because they couldn’t handle their fitness schedule leaving him without work until he could find another. However, the pros outweighed the cons and what he enjoyed the most was the results. It was extremely satisfying not only for the client, but for him to see that all the hard work had been paid off. He loved the boost of confidence they get once they had reached their goals.
Okai who are you and are you some kind of mind reader because I have thought about this ship beforehand. Funnily enough I roleplay both of these characters and I think they would be perfect together and here’s why:
R00ts and Geno hare some many things in common while also having quite a few things that are that oppose one another. They’ve even experienced some of the same things.
Both of them have died and been locked away from the rest of the multiverse for x amount of time in a vast empty space i.e R00ts fell into the core and was left in the Bygone while Geno died in the genocide run and got stuck and the save screen.
R00ts also has his on battle scars but they aren’t ever bleeding like Geno’s.
Personality wise, Geno and R00ts would work so well together. I have to ways I play Geno: Pure salt and anger. Stubborn as fuck. (Perfect for AfterDeath ships) and shy, closed off and anxious 24/7. (It’s pretty much a younger, version who hasn’t been left to fester into a salty ball of revenge.)
Both of these Geno’s are negative and hate themselves albeit in different ways. While Geno one accepts his name and doesn’t care of you beat him into the ground Geno two struggles to accept compliment and prefers other names such as Gene, Gen or Sans. He’s prone to Reapers offers to reap him and this has actually happen in character. I couldn’t stop it.
R00ts on the other hand: Stars he’s a ball pure positivity and good times. While he suffers his own troubles with his entire existence and identity he’s always ha glass half-full kind of skeleton. Not only that’s he’s patient and persistent but knows when people just need their space. He tends to worry far to much for his own good though.
This really counter balances Geno’s nature and offers a healthy and supportive environment for the baby.
Now if you add Reaper into the mix Sorry I couldn’t help myself. then we have and interesting ot3 where it turns out Reaper has problem with hoarding half dead glitches and anomalies to death. From what @lunar-eclipse has told me, who plays the Reaper in my DeathR00ts ship, Reaper might be a little jealous of R00ts at first but this soul bound couple are pretty open to poly relationships. One is a god and the other is quite literally immortal due to a certain connection with a certain code based void Reaper and R00ts have an eternity to live and will most like have many different character join and leave their relationship for whatever reason.
The good news is though that either way, whether Reaper likes them or R00ts both would happily accept and try the relationship to make the other happy. This opens up a multitude of different ot3′s and because we rp them in town where people can’t die and Reaper can’t kill people with his touch everyone is safe in the space of that time. He also has gloves that negate the effects so he can hold peoples hands.
Stars, if you actually read all that I am impressed there was just to much to tell but in the end R00ts and Geno would be a beautiful things and I feel like I should try and draw more of this because just look at theeeem.
Either way thank you for this ask I have spent all day doodling this idea because it made my day. This also gave me an excuse to go into a little detail on DeathR00ts’ relationship and R00t’s in general. I hope you found this interesting or whatever and if you have any ideas for other ships I would love to hear them!!
The question now is… what would we even call these ships?
Hi there! Just wanna say I absolutely love your blog! I wanted to request headcanons of Akutagawa, Dazai, Atsushi, Chuuya, and Mori (if that number is too big then just the first 3 are fine! ^-^) with an S/o that is an artist, but when they get really into their paintings/drawings, they don't always pay attention to the boys?
(I did general artist HCs too, I hope that’s okay?)
For the sake of Akutagawa’s interior decoration, it’s probably a good thing you’re an artist. The only thing clothing his otherwise naked walls is your artwork. No matter what you paint, it’s going on display.
Painting is one of the few things Akutagawa compliments often and openly. Art is one of the things he appreciates most; the fact that such emotion and intensity can be displayed without words amazes him. Normally, Akutagawa wouldn’t be anywhere near as vocally encouraging, but he wants you to know how much genuine pleasure your work brings to him, so he praises everything from your brushstrokes to your color choices.
Secretly, Akutagawa slips your sketchbook in with his belongings if he’s going on a long trip for the Port Mafia. Looking at your drawings comforts him, and the lines winding across the page quickly become his solace when the two of you are apart. Even when he’s countless miles away from you, a mere glance at your sketchbook’s pages makes the distance seem a little less cold.
Akutagawa doesn’t want to pull you away from your hobbies, especially ones that he enjoys as well, so he’s a bit more reluctant to recapture your attention while you’re focused on art. Despite this, he still takes your sudden cold-shoulders a bit personally, even if they’re not intentional.
After awhile, Akutagawa will flat-out tell you he’s sick of you tuning him out. He points out that he really doesn’t have that much time to spend with you, what with all the Port Mafia business he’s got to handle. If you still don’t pack up your supplies, his mood sours instantly. Akutagawa doesn’t dare start putting away your tools himself- he’s worried he’ll screw something up and you’ll be forced to scrap countless hours of work. Instead, he sits perhaps three feet away from you, glowering. He stays there, glaring, still as a statue until you’re simply too uncomfortable to continue.
Dazai praises your art exuberantly and often. There’s no one in the ADA who hasn’t been victim to him waxing poetic on your mastery of shading, the delicacy of your lines, the poetic beauty of your finished pieces. Often, he’ll google complicated artistic terms, just so he can compliment every possible thing there is to point out. Plus, he sounds smarter when he uses words like ‘chiaroscuro’ (even if it’s not always employed strictly in the right context).
Often, Dazai seeks out art exhibitions in Yokohama for the two of you to peruse. No matter the quality of the pieces shown, Dazai always pretends to be disappointed, bemoaning the fact that none of your art is there. Whenever you pick out a work that you like, Dazai sidles as close to it as the gallery attendants will let him. After scrutinizing it for awhile (he usually whips out a magnifying glass), he draws back, sighing dramatically and shaking his head. Dazai points out all the aspects that you could’ve done better, mourning the fact that this got into a gallery and your work remains displayed only in his home.
Depending on the mood he’s in, Dazai either is alright with letting you alone as you work on your art, or he simply can’t handle being ignored. If he’s in one of the latter moods, kiss any potential progress good-bye. When you focus on your art instead of him, he’s immediately scheming ways of drawing your attention back. All of his brain power is channeled into getting you to acknowledge him.
Dazai tries every trick in the book. He starts off with sweet little kisses, smattered on your cheeks and neck, but it only goes downhill from there. If you don’t give in instantly, he morphs into a whiny toddler. Dazai creates racket in the background, pokes at your cheeks, complains about how cruel you’re being, pouting face about two inches away from yours. Things only escalate the longer your will holds out. Once, he set off the fire alarm just so that you’d acknowledge him (he apologized, but he wasn’t really sorry. Setting it off was so satisfying, not to mention effective, he’s got a burning desire to do it again.).
Atsushi’s simply amazed by your skills. Whenever you show him a finished piece, he beams, eyes shining with awe as he admires your work. Atsushi’s never been too talented with a pencil and paper, and your creative prowess is only one of the countless reasons why he adores you.
Unless you specifically allow him sneak peeks, Atsushi avoids your unfinished pieces like the plague. To him, something just doesn’t feel right about glancing at such a personal object in progress. If he does happen to notice an uncompleted project, he’s instantly apologizing to you, begging forgiveness for invading your privacy.
If you let him, Atsushi loves to sit back and observe as you work on projects. He admires the way your hands swerve across the paper, sweeping lines with unbelievable grace and precision. He also thinks your facial expressions as you concentrate are adorable. Every time your nose scrunches, or your tongue pokes out of your mouth in concentration, Atsushi can’t help but grin, delighted at your sheer cuteness.
Although Atsushi feels a bit slighted when you spend hours fine tuning artwork instead of hanging out with him, he would never dream of interrupting you. Your level of focus amazes him. As long as you’ve got a paintbrush or pencil in your grasp, Atsushi doesn’t disturb you, occupying himself with something quiet and unobtrusive. He doesn’t even want to cause accidental breaks in your concentration, shying away from all loud noise and distracting activities while you’re at work.
When you’re in your zone, Atsushi keeps close tabs on you. Meals are left by your workspace to ensure that you don’t forget proper nutrition, there’s always a full water glass somewhere nearby, and his inner mother comes out when it’s long past time to pack it up; Atsushi strongly ‘encourages’ you get enough sleep (ignoring him results in an indignant cold-shoulder; he’s trying to look out for your health and you brush him off?! Unacceptible), no matter how much progress you’re making
Soon after he discovers you’re an artist, Chuuya’s constantly bothering you to paint something for him. He insists on paying commission. If you won’t let your recompense be money, he’ll settle for paying you in kisses.
Instead of keeping a photograph of you with him, Chuuya holds onto a pocket-sized self portrait. Staring at your likeness, one that you created, brings a smile to his face no matter where he is. The picture especially helps when he’s called away on long Port Mafia tasks; glancing at the image every so often eases some of the loneliness of being apart.
Chuuya will love anything you create, but he’ll especially enjoy a scene of Yokohama at night, with the lights glimmering over the water, or a portrait of you two together. After letting you pick out a suitable frame, he hangs every art piece you give him somewhere noticeable; usually, it ends up decorating the walls of the front hall or dining room. Chuuya’s special favorites go in his bedroom. When you’re not with him, it helps ease his loneliness if the last thing he glances before he falls asleep is one of your artworks.
You have to be careful complaining about your art supplies when around Chuuya. He’s prepared to splurge any amount just so that you’re outfitted with top-of-the-line tools. Whenever he notices that your pencils are growing dangerously short, or that your paintbrushes are fraying beyond redemption, he immediately surprises you with replacements. They’re always an unbelievably expensive brand, probably foreign, and usually, your initials are etched somewhere.
Chuuya will never directly let you know that he’s annoyed when you’re ignoring him. He’ll try every trick in the book to coax you away from your art, though. Chuuya taunts you with the promise of your favorite meals, tries to rub your shoulders until you’re putty in his fingers, even hints at all the other, more… exciting things you could be doing instead. If you’re completely determined to work on your art, he’ll eventually let you be, but he won’t go down without a fight.
Mori’s absolutely delighted when he finds out your artistic ability. He encourages all of your hobbies, but this one, he’s especially enthusiastic about supporting. Mori’s no art critic, but he does enjoy browsing pieces. If you’re the one to create it, his interest only skyrockets.
To Mori’s absolute glee, Elise takes a liking to your art, too. Whenever you’re slaving away on a project, she’s probably got one she’s working on, too; she likes to pick out the same subject as you and compare when you both finish. Mori can never decide which is better when pressed for his opinion (usually by Elise). They’re both masterpieces, he insists, and there’s no competition between masters. Both artworks are hung up together, a plaque underneath them identifying the pieces as a collaboration between the world’s two greatest art masters.
Without telling you, Mori calls in a designer and sets up a massive studio for you to work in. The room is fully equipped with every art supply your heart could ever desire. It’s absolutely gorgeous; there’s windows overlooking gardens filled specially with all of your favorite flowers, and skylights littering the ceiling filter in moonlight when you want to work at night. Mori brushes it off as nothing, insisting that artists of your caliber need work spaces that measure up to their skills.
Generally, Mori leaves you be when you’re devoting all your attention to your art, although he’ll whine a bit. After he complains for a few minutes that he deserves your attention just as much as any canvas, he abandons the pursuit of your acknowledgement. Mori’s busy enough that he can occupy himself until you’re ready for him again. He’ll be mopey until you’re back in his arms, though.
There are, of course, exceptions; when Mori’s looking for sex, no amount of charcoal smeared on your hands is going to stop him. He’ll fuck you right against an easel if he has to. In addition, if Elise wants your attention, he’ll stop at nothing to fulfill her demands. Mori will ensure you give the girl what she wants.
#TwinPeaks Star Kyle MacLachlan Reflects on Agent Cooper’s Past and Looks Toward His Future
In an interview with THR, the actor relives some of his favorite memories from the original ‘Twin Peaks’ run and offers a tease or two about what’s ahead.
During a recent appearance on The Tonight Show, host Jimmy Fallon asked Kyle MacLachlan what the actor could reveal about the upcoming Twin Peaks revival. His answer, of course, was virtually nothing, except for one tongue-in-cheek tease: “It was damn good coffee.”
It’s no wonder MacLachlan can’t say much, given Twin Peaks creators David Lynch and Mark Frost’s insistence on keeping the Showtime series’ story under tight wraps. Few characters are shrouded in more uncertainty than MacLachlan’s Agent Dale Cooper, with the possible exception of Audrey Horne (Sherilyn Fenn), who seemingly exploded in the final episode of the series. (Fenn is one of the more than 200 actors aboard the revival; it’s a good bet she survived the blast, but then again, who knows?! This is Twin Peaks, where dead does not always mean dead.) In the season two finale, Cooper entered the dark spiritual realm known as the Black Lodge, where he became the newest vessel for Killer BOB (played by the late Frank Silva), the denim-wearing demon responsible for killing Laura Palmer (Sheryl Lee) and condemning her father Leland (Ray Wise) in the process.
What version of Agent Cooper will we see in the new Twin Peaks, set 25 years after that devastating cliffhanger? Will it be the soulful optimist who loves few things more than a damn good coffee paired with a slice of cherry pie? Or will it be a BOB in Coop’s clothing, bursting through the Douglas firs to terrorize this eccentric Pacific Northwest town over the past two decades and change?
Of course, MacLachlan won’t say one way or the other. He’s much happier to weigh in on the process of filming the new Twin Peaks, reuniting with Lynch once again after several years apart, and what it was like to live through some of the most iconic moments of the series: the Red Room and the bananas BOB twist included. Here’s what he told The Hollywood Reporter about all of that and more.
How are you feeling, now that the world is days away from putting eyes on the new Twin Peaks?
It’s funny, isn’t it? It feels exactly that way: a long time coming. But it feels like we’re all coming into focus now, and everyone is turning our way. It’s very exciting. There’s been a lot of activity.
How often were you thinking about Agent Cooper in the years since you last played the character?
You know, off and on through the time that it was not on. It’s a character who really stayed with me. He’s one of the greatest characters that I have ever played, certainly. I always thought in the back of my mind that we could actually return there at some point in time if the stars aligned. It’s not that I was sitting around hoping it would happen, but I felt it would be kind of fun were it to happen. It was always a “what if.” Were it to happen, it would be really fun to revisit. It wasn’t something where I was thinking, “We have to get this done.” It was more, “Well, let’s see what happens. Let’s see if a story develops with David and Mark.”
There are several reasons why Agent Cooper has endured as a character, including the fact that he’s such a soulful and optimistic force in what’s often a bleak world. Do you view him that way?
Definitely. I’m kind of that way in life. I tend to be more optimistic than the other way. The glass is always half full, I think, at least in most things — maybe not my golf game. (Laughs.) But! As far as the show and that character, he’s intuitive and he’s obviously empathic. He has a great love of the people around him, and a great love for them. I think he considers himself a fortress against whatever the dark side might be — the world of BOB and all of that — and I think he takes that role very seriously. To be able to step back into the suit and continue on this journey has been really fun and rewarding.
No, not at all. When I spoke with David about it, and he told me what was happening, we didn’t talk much about the journey itself, just that he and Mark were working on this. I was excited about the prospect, because he said, “I’m going to be directing every episode.” And I felt, “Wow.” If you’re going to return to Twin Peaks, there’s no better way to do it than to have the creator also be the director of every frame. That, to me, was very exciting. But no, no trepidation at all. Just excitement, and curiosity, certainly, about what the story was going to be, and the journey that Cooper was going to be taking.
You and Lynch have worked together on a variety of projects, and there are few better people to weigh in on what it’s like to work on a Lynch film set. Can you describe the experience?
He’s unlike anything else. The environment he creates for us is so supportive. There’s a lot of humor involved. There’s tremendous focus. There’s a clarity of vision. If for some reason he’s not sure about something, he sits and thinks about it until he’s sure. There’s no forward steps without knowing where we’re going. But that’s not to say he’s not open to happy accidents, as well. That’s one of the catchphrases about David’s process: If there’s something that happens that’s unexpected or accidental, as opposed to rejecting it outright, oftentimes he welcomes it in. He counts it as life. Those things can be very revealing and important. There’s room for that in the creative process. It’s a real pleasure working with him, whether you’re talking to an old-timer like me or people who have just come on for the first time. To a person, they’ll say that it was one of the best working experiences they have ever had.
The revival is shrouded in secrecy. We know nothing about the story, except that it takes place 25 years after the original series’ cancellation. What’s your view on all of the secrecy, the fact that the details of the plot are being held so close to the chest?
I think it’s terrific. I’m excited about the idea. I’m actually thrilled about the idea, that we’ve been able to keep it under wraps, which was the idea from the very, very beginning. When I had my first reading of the script, I read it at the studio in a room by myself. Of course, I didn’t tell them I took photographs of every page … (Laughs). No, I didn’t do that. They let me read it all the way through, and then I had to pass the script back. The pages were then distributed out, and I was one of the ones who had most of the script, which I needed. Most people just received what was pertinent to them. Again, it was an effort to keep things contained, and also to help us. That way, if anyone asks us about the story, we could say, “I don’t really know!” As opposed to feeling an obligation to say something, or maybe you would feel compelled out of your own sense of whatever to say it’s about this or this. There were no opportunities for that. I love that people are going to be embarking on this fresh. For something that’s so well known, it’s going to be a whole new journey. I think that’s wonderful.
The only thing I can say is that the journey continues. I have said it’s almost as if Twin Peaks never stopped. The world of Twin Peaks, the environment and the town and the people, have all continued to live on, and now we’re dipping back into that world and taking a further journey with them. We’ll catch up on what’s happened after these 25 years. Beyond that, I can’t say much, other than it’s David’s vision. I feel like it’s going to be something that’s as unexpected and compelling as the original was when it was first broadcast — in a different way, of course. But it has that same kind of power and magic going forward. I, like you and many people, am curious to see how the audience is going to respond.
Lynch has talked about viewing the new Twin Peaks as an 18-hour movie, versus an eight-episode television series. Do you agree with the distinction?
It was definitely a different structure. Instead of traditional episodes that were handed out one by one, this came as a very long feature. He’s made a point of calling them “hours” or “parts.” In his mind, he’s directed an 18-hour movie that was fractured into 18 installments. It’s different in the telling of the story; maybe not different in the playing, because the scripts were already broken into scenes, anyway. You’re concentrating on smaller pieces. But when you go to assemble it? I’m sure the editors were looking at it and going, “What are we going to do?!” The assemblage, I’m sure, was very different.
The reading was one thing. When you actually get into the environment, it’s completely different. David was having us do some unusual things, like walking backwards. I didn’t do too much backwards stuff, thank god, but Mike Anderson (The Man From Another Place) and Sheryl Lee (Laura Palmer) had to do some backward talking. We all know how that can translate when it’s run forward: It’s oddly disturbing and surprisingly effective for such a simple technique. I knew going in that it was going to be a little bit strange, and I was also wondering, “Is this going to work?” That’s the thing: You can shoot it backwards, but at that time, you weren’t able to run it forwards to see what you could expect. They could play the audio back so you could see how close you were to matching, to see if people could understand what you were saying — which is why they provided the subtitles as well, I think. You knew something odd was being created, but you didn’t know the impact yet.
It ended up being quite iconic.
Oh, yeah. Super frightening. And unexpected, too. I think a lot of people sat up on their couches and exclaimed: “What am I watching here?” (Laughs.) “This doesn’t seem like any TV that I’ve seen before!” And that was the idea.
A personal favorite moment is when Cooper throws rocks at bottles in order to narrow down suspects in the Laura Palmer case…
Yeah, me too. (Laughs.) It was such a great day. We were outside, drinking coffee, having fun, and I was just there throwing rocks at bottles. There are few things as satisfying as throwing rocks at a bottle, with the expectation being that if it hits, it’s going to explode. It was really perfect, actually. David had no problem just rolling. We were burning film in those days. We were burning through thousand-foot mags, as I kept throwing rocks. He was shooting from behind me so he could see the whole thing. I missed a ton. And I said, “David, are you sure you don’t want to cut?” And he goes, “Nope, we’ll keep rolling.” I threw a bunch, and I finally nicked a bottle or something. It took a while. There were a few very close ones. But what he was capturing, and I didn’t realize this, is that everyone was watching me, and each time I threw a rock there would be a [collective gasp from the crew]. You think it’s going to happen! You never really get tired of watching, because you think, “This could be the rock that breaks the bottle!” I realized later that that’s what he was going for. He was going for that moment of expectation that would hopefully be fulfilled. It just took me a very long time before I made it happen. (Laughs.) And then he gave everyone else a chance to throw rocks. We didn’t film that, but everyone had their chance. It was such a fun day.
Season two of the series is something of a mixed bag, with a very strong start in those first nine episodes, before losing its way in the middle of the season, when Lynch became less involved. What was your experience of shooting that season?
I think we all felt the pressure to resolve the mystery. Not internally, but from outside. The studio was saying, “We need to figure out who killed Laura Palmer. People are crazy about this.” I think it was episode nine where they have that final sequence [with Wise as Leland Palmer], which I thought was beautiful. Everything leading up to that was pretty amazing. It was a culmination of the big mystery. There’s a variety of thoughts about what happened later. I personally thought the “Who killed Laura Palmer?” mystery was such a strong engine for the show onto which we laid all these eccentric and unusual characters and this incredibly unusual environment, that to come up with something equally compelling? It just didn’t happen. It was a great potential for a story, it just somehow didn’t capture the audience in the same way as, “Who killed Laura Palmer?” We were going forward and doing the best we could. It was an interesting enough storyline, but it wasn’t interesting enough, you know what I mean? That’s where we lost people. Once you give people the resolution to that, it’s kind of done. I think we all realized that we revealed it all … maybe not too soon, necessarily, but maybe there was another way to keep it going where that question wasn’t answered. (Pauses.) Anyway. That’s me looking back! Hindsight and all. But the end of it all, the last episode of that season, it ended with what I thought was, “Okay! Now the engine’s revved up again. We have a very interesting question of, 'What’s going to happen now?’” Unfortunately, it was too late. Which is why it’s so beautiful that we get to return after all of this time and pick the story up and move forward and hopefully have some answers.
It’s one of the most brutal cliffhangers in television history. As we were speaking about before, Cooper is such an optimistic man, so to see you doing almost a Killer BOB impression … it’s such a foreign way of looking at that character.
I was excited by it. I was already thinking, “This is a journey that’s going to be very interesting.” I don’t know if we knew at that time that we had been canceled yet. But I remember thinking, “Wow, I am ready to go!” And of course it was nipped in the bud. But I was so excited about the idea of being able to explore, as an actor, what that might look like.
Did you work with Frank Silva at all to incorporate BOB’s mannerisms into your performance?
No, not really. I watched what he did. When we were trying to do the mime thing towards the mirror — because he was on the other side — we worked on that in sequence. Apart from that? Not really. It was just trying to capture that moment, and whatever it was going to turn into. I didn’t know what it would turn into.
What do you remember about working with Silva, who passed away a few years after the series ended? He was so memorably terrifying as Killer BOB.
He was a lovely guy. Quiet, and kind of funny, and very humble. He was nothing like the character he played. I find that this is more often the case than not, that the guys who play the villains are the nicest and sweetest guys you can possibly imagine. And that was Frank. He was such a sweetheart.
As we look forward, knowing that there’s so little you can say about it, do you have an out-of-context way of describing the new Twin Peaks? A word or two that might not make sense right now, but maybe will make sense once we finish watching the season?
Oh, man! (Laughs.) I could probably come up with one, or two, but I would be worried that speculation would start, and then David would call me and say, “Okay, what did you do?” (Laughs.) I don’t want to get in trouble! But there will be some interesting reveals, I think. Unexpected, too. Which is fun. I’ll tell you what has been fun: It’s been very fun to read and follow along with people’s ideas and thoughts, and what they think they know, and watching that and smiling and going, “Ah, they have no idea what’s coming.” That’s very fun.
Do you view this as the end, or as a new beginning?
It’s a good question. I don’t know. David has said: “Everything is Twin Peaks.” It leads me to believe that there are other stories to tell. I think it’s just a question of whether David and Mark want to tell them. I don’t know. But I’m happy. Revisiting the character, working on this character again, was really such a thrill. And working with David again. It had been a long time since we had the director-actor relationship. That was spectacular. Hopefully it’s not the last time. I hope there’s more that we can do together, whether it’s Twin Peaks or not.
1-never eat alone
2-always drink a full glass of water before eating
3-drink a sip of water between each bite
4-never ever eat more than half of anything
5-always chew 20 times
6-never eat anything without knowing the amount of calories in it
7-no snacking ever
8-if a rule is broken, punishment must follow.
I am a walking contradiction because I am exclusively selective. I have no problem of letting toxic people go, but I don’t have the will power to walk away from you. I have shut the world out before, but I can never shut you out. I am an emotional mute with all my loved ones, but it’s easy for me to be verbally expressive to you. I view everyone as a glass half-empty, but you are always my glass half-full. I believe that endings are inevitable, but yet I never want us to end.
-You are my exclusive exception. Always, and forever.
Alas, I’ve been a little busy, so please accept this revamped, rewritten and slightly polished fic, as opposed to anything completely fresh.
This originally stemmed from an ask where someone wanted to see Snape’s talent for Potions being acknowledged, and him gaining his Potions Mastery on merit.
“You wanted to see me, sir?”
“Ah, Severus,” Slughorn beamed at the student before him, as
the rest of the NEWT class filed out of the dungeon. “This way, my boy.”
Snape’s eyes narrowed as he followed Slughorn from the
seventh year Potions classroom and into his sumptuous office. Unlike Lucius, and Regulus, and countless
other Slytherins, he’d never been invited into Slughorn’s office. He’d certainly never had an invite into the
Slug Club. Not that this was a Slug Club
invitation. Not at quarter past four on
Snape loitered awkwardly in the doorway, clutching his
schoolbag against his slight frame.
Slughorn turned from the ornate cabinet where he was pouring himself a
drink, and waved Snape in. “Do sit down,
do sit down!”
Snape shuffled forward, and Slughorn flicked his wand,
causing the door to slam shut. “A seat,
Severus!” Slughorn repeated, as he sank heavily into his own chair.
Snape approached the chair furthest from his housemaster,
and slowly lowered his bag, perching himself on the very edge of the seat. Slughorn frowned at the boy’s actions, and
gave a small cough in displeasure, but did not comment. He merely made a great show of summoning a
side table and placing it before Snape, balancing his drink on it, and then pulling
his own chair closer to the wary student.
“Now, my dear boy,” he started, “you are aware that you are
supposed to attend a follow up session regarding your career choices?”
Snape didn’t answer.
“Accio,” Slughorn muttered, and a number of parchment pages
flew through the air from his desk. He
quickly rifled through them. “Where is
it, where is it? J…M…Parkinson, no, no,
Rosier, no, aha! Snape!” He pulled one from the stack and held it triumphantly
aloft, whilst banishing the rest to his desk.
“Now, from your initial session before your OWLs…”
Slughorn fell silent as he stared in confusion at the blank
parchment. He turned it over, and back,
and then over again. Finally, he raised
his head and looked at the sulky boy seated across from him. “Ah, now, Severus. This is a little embarrassing, but I don’t
suppose I gave you the copy from your last session, did I?”
“I’ve never had a careers advice session, sir.”
“You’ve never ha-” Slughorn blustered, grabbing his
handkerchief and running it dramatically over his forehead. “You simply must have! I see all the Slytherins!”
“Not me. Sir.”
Slughorn peered helplessly at the blank parchment before
him. “I’ve never…not once…I…” He looked again at the boy before him, who
was shifting awkwardly in his seat.
“Can I go now, sir?”
“Why on earth didn’t you say something, boy?”
Snape sat silently, glaring at the ceiling, annoyed that he
hadn’t been allowed to retreat to his common room. He willed his housemaster to lose interest
and cease his line of questioning. When
he eventually glanced back down and made eye contact, Slughorn was still
peering intently at him. Snape sighed,
and when he spoke, his voice was low. “I
asked around. The others said…”
“The others said what?”
He shrugged, as if it was of no importance, but his sallow
cheeks filled with colour. “They said
that you didn’t offer career advice to half bloods.”
Slughorn thumped his fist against the small table between
them. “I OFFER CAREER ADVICE TO ALL!”
Snape tensed, and immediately gripped his wand. Slughorn winced at the boy’s swift reaction.
“No, no,” Slughorn said, quietly, placating him. “I wasn’t angry with you. Put your wand away, Severus.” He stood, exhaled deeply, and strode over to
the drinks cabinet. He poured a generous
measure of firewhisky into two fancy glasses.
“Here,” he said, pressing one into Snape’s hand, who looked at it, eyes
“You’re of age, aren’t you, boy?”
Snape lifted the glass, almost recoiling as the fumes from
the strong smelling liquid reached his nose.
He looked at Slughorn, who had his own glass raised.
“Cheers,” said his teacher, and brought his lips to the rim
of the glass.
Snape did the same, and then his face twisted in anguish as
the strong liquor burned his throat. To
his horror, he could feel a tear forming at the edge of his right eye. He rubbed his sleeve against it, and when his
vision cleared, he saw Slughorn smiling oddly at him.
It was then that Snape noticed Slughorn’s glass was still
“Ah, you youngsters.
Always able to hold your liquor,” he laughed, and poured another
generous measure into Snape’s now empty glass.
“Still, I would take that one much more slowly, else this meeting will
be over before it’s started.”
Snape could feel his flush of embarrassment disappearing as he
realised that Slughorn thought he’d swallowed his drink as a statement, and not
simply through ignorance. He nodded, and
this time, took a small sip of the harsh liquid, and then placed the glass down
on the table between them.
“Now,” Slughorn said, pulling out a quill with a flourish,
and starting to write on the previously blank parchment. “Tell me about your favourite subject.”
“And what do you like about Defence?”
“Very good. Am I then
also to understand that you have an appreciation for Charms?”
Snape shrugged. “It’s
Slughorn raised an eyebrow.
“All right? How can you expect to
create your own spells if your charm work isn’t exact?”
“Professor Flitwick doesn’t allow us to experiment,” Snape
said, simply. “Three flicks this way,
four flicks that way,” he grumbled. “What
if four flicks this way, and three flicks that way gave better results?”
“I believe that’s why Professor Flitwick is the teacher,
Severus,” Slughorn said, trying to keep a hint of amusement from his voice,
“and you are his student.”
Snape pursed his lips.
“Anyway, Defence is better than Charms.
I like duelling. And learning how
to control dark creatures.”
Slughorn peered at him over his paper. “Controlling dark creatures? I suppose you took Kettleburn’s class
“No? May I ask why?”
“It’s a bit too dangerous, sir.”
Slughorn snorted and took another sip of his drink. “Indeed.
Indeed. And what else?”
“Herbology could be worse.”
“A glowing recommendation indeed,” Slughorn smiled. “I will be sure to pass your critique to
Despite himself, Snape smiled back. “I mean, it’s not bad or anything. It’s not Divination, or Arithmancy-”
“Divination I can understand,” Slughorn said, cautiously,
“But I am surprised to hear that you don’t enjoy Arithmancy.”
“I don’t believe in fortune telling.”
Slughorn gave a tight smile.
“I am certain your teachers would disagree with the nature of their subjects. Arithmancy, in particular, is practically a
“Ancient Runes is a better way to spend your time. You can learn a lot from ancient magic.”
“So, Defence and Ancient Runes are your favourite
subjects? With,” Slughorn gave a quick
half smile, “Charms being regarded as ‘all right’ and Herbology ‘could be
“I didn’t mean it like that about Herbology. I still wouldn’t want to do it as a career,
but I can see it’s useful.”
“Ah, Potions. I was
hoping you would say that. You had me
worried there for a moment.”
Slughorn smiled kindly.
“You are a fan of my subject, are you not, Severus?”
“Yes, sir. It’s my
Snape paused, considering.
“Both,” he said, finally. “I like
them both the same.”
“Well, you have a certain amount of talent when it comes to
Potions. When you’re not blowing up your
cauldron, that is.”
Slughorn stopped writing.
“In fact, it amazes me that a boy who has such a grasp of the theory –
and your essays, Severus, are nothing short of excellent-” Snape flushed at
Slughorn’s words, not used to receiving such high praise. Slughorn stroked his chin thoughtfully. “-it astounds me that you cannot grasp the practical.”
“It’s not that I can’t brew,” Snape muttered, a note of
petulance in his voice.
“The simple potions, certainly,” Slughorn conceded. “I recall that you were rather competent up
until your OWL year. You used to sit
next to Lily Evans, didn’t you?” he said, a small smile creeping across his
face. “Perhaps we should re-arrange the
“No! Don’t!” Snape’s
vehement response caused Slughorn to raise an eyebrow.
“Very well. However, I
shall say it plainly: your NEWT
examiners will not take kindly to you exploding the contents of your pewter
across the classroom.” Slughorn tried
not to roll his eyes as he watched the angry young man grab his bag and rummage
“Severus,” Slughorn continued loudly, “unfortunately, as
impressive as your understanding of the theoretical is, there isn’t much call
for wizards who cannot practice what they preach. Even, I fear, the Ministry would not be
intereste…” Slughorn trailed off as an
intricately annotated textbook was thrust before him, Snape’s thin hand
trembling slightly as he held it.
Slughorn said, taking the proffered book. He turned the book at an angle, staring at
the tiny cramped writing that filled the page.
“Thirteen Sopophorous beans? Crushing them instead of cutting?” He looked back at Snape, his brow
furrowed. “Clockwise as well as
“It works. Sir.”
Slughorn flicked through the rest of the book, noting the
cramped but detailed instructions littering each and every page. He stood, abruptly, and clicked his fingers,
motioning for Snape to follow him back into the classroom.
“I want you to brew,” Slughorn said, simply. “I am going to brew, and you are going to
brew. Get the ingredients from the
cupboard.” He stared at the unmoving boy. “Well?
Come on! Twelve beans for me,
thirteen beans for you.”
Snape nodded. He
almost dropped one of the jars in the storeroom, and he hastily wiped his
slightly sweaty palms on his robes before taking a deep breath and
continuing. He laid the ingredients out
on the desk, whilst Slughorn gathered the equipment. Together, under Slughorn’s watchful eye, the
young boy brewed using his amendments.
An hour later, Slughorn stared in shock at the perfect
potion produced by his student. “In
under an hour,” he noted, glancing at his watch. “Severus, this is…something special.”
“And the rest of your book?
You’ve done this with other potions?”
Snape shrugged non-committedly. “Some are better than others. I can only experiment in class.”
Slughorn tapped his finger against his lips. “Interesting.
You try out the most dangerous things under my guidance? And that’s why you often blow up your
Snape looked down at his shoes, his voice barely more than a
stared intently at Snape, but the boy didn’t speak again. “Please don’t mumble, Severus. Enunciate!”
“It’s not your guidance, sir.” He glanced up, and saw Slughorn
frowning. He quickly glanced down. “It’s the most expensive things, sir,” he
muttered, his voice dropping again.
Slughorn stared at his student. “Are you telling me that you don’t experiment
because you cannot afford the ingredients?”
Snape’s cheeks flushed.
“I am not like the other Slytherins.
“I am aware of your background,” Slughorn said,
awkwardly. “You are telling me that you
could make these refinements to other potions, but you cannot experiment
because you do not have access to the ingredients?”
“Answer me! Is that
“Every Monday and every Wednesday,” Slughorn said, a note of
finality in his tone, “you will come to this office and practice your potions.”
“No arguments, Severus,” Slughorn said, waving him out of
the classroom. “I will see you here on Wednesday.”
“It’s not that I’m not grateful, sir – but what about
Quidditch, sir?” Snape blurted out,
Slughorn struggled to prevent a hearty laugh escaping. “I didn’t think you were so inclined.”
“I don’t mind it,” he said, defensively. “I’m not that keen on flying on a broom,
“We’re short, sir.”
Snape grimaced. “We’re down four
players since Ave, Mulc, Reggie and Ev got in that brawl last week, and Professor
McGonagall and Professor Hooch suspended them for the rest of the year. You know what Ev’s like when it comes to
Quidditch. He’s said that the rest of us
have to turn up to practice, no excus-”
“Enough,” Slughorn said, raising his hand. “I don’t need to know about the Quidditch
tactics of Evan Rosier. Very well. You shall attend my classroom on Mondays and
Fridays, leaving your Wednesdays free for Quidditch practice.”
Snape hoisted his bag over his shoulder, still looking
anxious. “What about the others,
sir? What should I tell them? They’ll think you’re giving me preferential
treatment if I just turn up here.”
Slughorn smiled. “I
would suggest blowing your cauldron up during the next lesson. I can easily hand you a detention for a term
“Oh, and Severus?”
“Make it good, won’t you?”
For once, it wasn’t his own cauldron that erupted. At the start of the lesson, Snape purposely
flung a flobberworm across the room, causing Potter’s cauldron to impressively
spew its contents three feet into the air, and across four tables. Moments later, Snape deliberately threw a
bezoar towards Potter’s neighbour, catching Black’s hand as he was in the midst
of carefully dribbling precious Dragon’s blood into his mixture.
The fallout was unforgettable. Legendary, even. Students yelled and screamed, cauldrons were
spilled, and ingredients were flung aside.
Without exception, each and every student pointed at Snape when
Slughorn’s shouting reached crescendo, and for Snape’s part, he laughed loudly
– impudently – as Slughorn issued him with detention. His mirth only abated when Slughorn lost his
temper, and finally shouted that due to his ongoing impertinence, Snape had lost
two nights a week for the rest of his Hogwart’s career.
Vengeance was sweet.
Snape was still smirking to himself as he sauntered out of the
classroom, pleased that he’d managed to make use of Slughorn’s instruction and
upset both Potter and Black at the same time.
He pulled up short when he saw Lily waiting outside the classroom with
Potter, her expression furious. Instantly,
Snape’s smile dropped, and he self-consciously pulled his shoulder bag tight to
“You’ve really changed.”
“Says you,” Snape retorted, hotly.
“Look at his face!”
Lily pointed to the marks on James’ cheek where the potion had
splattered against him. “You could’ve
“Disfigured him?! It
was only a Mandrake and a few Flobberworms,” he snapped. “It’ll wear off by tomorrow.” He glared at the pair, and muttered under his
breath, “I’d have used Bubotuber pus if I wanted to disfigure him.”
“You’re lucky Slughorn gave you such a harsh punishment,
Snivellus, else I’d be reporting this to Dumbledore,” hissed James.
“Go ahead,” Snape sneered.
“I’m sure he’ll be shocked that a Slytherin wannabe Death Eater would do
such a thing to our beloved Head Boy.”
“Ignore him, James!” Lily pulled on her boyfriend’s arm before he could retort. Snape wasn’t
certain whether she had already grown tired of their argument – tired of him,
even - or whether the mention of James’ Head Boy status reminded her that they
both had far more to lose than Snape did if their disagreement turned physical.
He felt as if all of the colour had drained from the world
when she shook her head and looked him straight in the eye with burning
hatred. “I was so wrong about you. There’s just no reasoning with you
anymore.” She barged past him, her elbow purposely
digging into his ribs as she dragged her boyfriend behind her.
James allowed himself to be pulled along, but ran his wand
over his throat, and pointed at Snape whilst mouthing, “You’re dead.”
Snape sank back against the cold stone wall, watching
silently as the pair fled up the dungeon stairs, hand-in-hand. His efforts had almost been worth it, but the
distaste in Lily’s eyes had rather ruined his rare moment of triumph.
Snape’s heart skipped when he walked into the dungeon. He’d nervously paced outside for several
minutes before pushing the door; he knew Slughorn was well respected, and
seemed honourable enough – but then, Snape had witnessed too much disappointment
to consider any promises a sure thing.
He’d half expected the door to swing open and to be confronted with the
cauldron scrubbing detention that his classmates believed him to be attending.
Instead, to his pleasure, he saw a long line of ingredients covering
the bench, and he almost tripped over his shoelaces in his haste to start work.
True to his word, Slughorn provided all of the ingredients
Snape required - even those which he hardly dared touch, knowing from his days
in Hogsmeade with his nose pressed up against the glass of Slug and Jiggers
that they’d cost someone – Hogwarts, Dumbledore, Slughorn himself, even – a
small fortune. He wasn’t about to blow
his opportunity be being greedy or irresponsible.
The first few weeks were fantastic, and Snape made subtle
refinements to several potions, and overhauled half a dozen more – but then,
Slughorn slipped. Black earned himself a
week’s worth of detentions after tripping Snape in class, causing his carefully
brewed potion to splash over the floor, melting one of the flagstones in the
process. Without thinking the action
through, Slughorn carelessly issued Black with a week’s worth of detentions –
which meant that Snape had to put up the pretence of a real detention.
Scrubbing out cauldrons would’ve been an unpleasant enough
job, but it was made many times worse having to share a bench with a braying,
mocking Black – let alone losing his evening of experimental brewing. Thankfully, Slughorn realised his mistake and
let Black off on Thursday night with a stern warning, and a lament about how
sincerely sad he was that he hadn’t had Sirius in Slytherin like the rest of
Black had been his usual subtle self, crowing loudly with Potter
about how he’d evaded detention, whilst Snape was having to endure months for
his earlier transgression – but Snape was so relieved to hear that he’d got his
Friday experimentation day back, he couldn’t bring himself to care.
“Excuse me, Professor,” the first year said, breathing
heavily at the doorway of the Transfiguration class. “Professor Slughorn says that Severus Snape
must report to his office immediately.”
“This is most irregular,” Professor McGonagall said, drawing
herself up to her full height. “What’s
this about, Severus?”
“I don’t know, Professor,” Snape replied, honestly. He looked at the Hufflepuff in the doorway.
“I don’t know either, Professor,” said the young Hufflepuff,
“but Professor Slughorn and Professor Dumbledore are together and waiting.”
“Well,” said Professor McGonagall, slowly, “if Professor
Dumbledore has requested such a thing, then we must acquiesce. Severus, collect your things, and you can
return here tonight after dinner to continue your classwork.”
“I’ve got Quidditch pract-”
“Tonight,” McGonagall said, raising her voice, “or you do
not have permission to leave now.”
“Good, now go.”
Severus scooped up his papers, and – arms full - followed
the Hufflepuff down the corridor.
“What’s this about then?”
“Dunno,” replied the Hufflepuff. “But Slughorn looked very excited. He gave me a whole box of crystallised
pineapple for coming to get you.”
Taking a deep breath, Snape knocked on the door to the
Potions classroom and was surprised when Professor Dumbledore swept the door
open. “Ah, Severus. Do come in.”
He stepped into the room, past Dumbledore and his eyes
widened when he saw the man standing at the back of the room. Slughorn appeared to be bursting with pride.
“This is the boy?”
“Severus Snape,” Slughorn said, urging Snape forwards to
shake the hands of the guest.
“Snape?” The man
raised his eyebrows as he pulled out of the handshake. “Can’t say I’ve heard that before.”
Malfoy was right; this was what his life was going to be like – forever
cursed by a Muggle moniker.
“Ah, Libatius, what’s in a name?” said Professor
Dumbledore. “I do believe Horace invited
you here for a demonstration?”
Slughorn placed a hammy hand on Snape’s bony shoulder. “This boy can do things with a cauldron that
will make your head spin.”
“I doubt that very much,” said Borage, scowling. “Horace, my dear fellow, you have been
inviting me here for years. Each year
you promise so much, yet your students deliver so little. I have told you my terms before, and yet you
still insist on this charade.”
“Now, Severus,” Dumbledore said, firmly, “I believe you have
an appointment with Professor McGonagall?”
Snape glanced down at the watch Lucius Malfoy had gifted him
for his seventeenth birthday. “Yes,
sir.” How had he missed dinner? He’d been working for hours on end. He collected his bag and he quietly
approached Slughorn and Borage, who were peering over several of his
cauldrons. “Nice to meet you, sir,” he
said, holding his hand out. Borage
nodded, and Snape had the feeling that he’d been utterly dismissed.
“Off you go, Severus,” Slughorn said kindly, and with a
sinking stomach, Snape departed.
Snape turned at the sound of Dumbledore’s voice. The Headmaster passed him a note. “Pass this to Professor McGonagall, please,
Professor McGonagall scanned the note, her expression not betraying
her feelings. “Very well,” she said,
calling a house elf and passing the note to it.
A moment later, the house elf returned with a spread of food from that
“It appears, Mr Snape, that you missed dinner. I thought I did not see you in the Great Hall
tonight. I have been informed that you
are to eat whilst you study, although
please do not smear any sauces on your paper.
I refuse to mark parchment that is covered in food.”
He sprawled across the desk, his nose close to the parchment
as he filled the page full of his tiny, cramped writing. McGonagall rolled her eyes; no matter what
scathing comments she wrote on his essays, he always managed to turn in more
than was necessary. There was simply no
dissuading the boy from his research.
After an hour, she stood, and dismissed the Slytherin. “I’m sorry about Quidditch,” she huffed, “but
your classwork is more important. There
are only a handful of games left in the season, of course.”
Snape nodded, but as he stood to leave, the door burst
open. “Well done, my boy!” Slughorn
boomed, marching in to the room.
“Minerva!” Slughorn returned her greeting bombastically,
mistaking McGonagall’s annoyance for enthusiasm. “Now Severus, down to the dungeons and gather
your things. Professor Dumbledore is
making the necessary arrangements with your parents as we speak!”
“Horace, what on earth is this about?”
“Libatius Borage wants you as an apprentice, Severus.”
Snape’s knees went weak, and he gripped the desk before him.
“The pay is a little ungenerous, but then, that’s Libatius
for you,” Slughorn admitted. “What
you’ll pick up in experience, knowledge and connections – well, my boy, that’s
“He’s not sat his NEWTs,” McGonagall said
disapprovingly. “You’ll affect the boy’s
career if he leaves without them.”
“Oh, Libatius has agreed to special dispensation,” Slughorn
said, waving his hand. “Details,
details. With an apprenticeship under
Borage, young master Snape here won’t want for anything else.”