The first time FP and Alice met was when he and Fred went to Pop’s. He flirted with her as he and Fred made their order and even though Alice knew he was clearly flirting with her, she just gave him a sweet smile.
(also, i blame this gif because this gave me the headcanon and the fp x alice feelings):
FP and Alice have this ongoing flirtation that is either a running gag/humor for them both or they have this tension in the air that they tried dating for real at some point.
Alice loves FP as much as how she loves the rest of the Horse Mints (being Mary, Hermione, and Fred) but if she were to even go out with him, it would be to prove a point to her parents and infuriate them. That doesn’t mean they that look at each other as last resorts, but they know that they get something out of it anyway.
One time when the group were hanging at Pop’s, Alice threw some of the fries FP ordered in his mouth, but he missed with the other two fries that was aimed at him. meanwhile, (Marisol is breaking character when) Hermione is suffering because of her two friends that she cried and laughed at the same time.
FP, who just skipped an entire week of school, arrives to school wearing his white t-shirt and black jeans and Alice remarks with “Why are you wearing that to school?” to which FP remarks with “Why do you still go to school?”
Alice and FP take pleasure in mocking Fred whenever it’s about him pining after mary that one time when they caught Fred staring after Mary again, who was walking to her locker, FP and Alice began to act out Fred and Mary’s wedding ceremony with FP standing up with his arms out, proclaiming “Dearly beheaded, we are gathered today to witness this man take this woman..” and Alice is too busy laughing at his remark that she couldn’t even make something up to mock Fred, and FP stops mid-sentence to look at Alice, laughing at his joke.
Alice and FP got drunk and kareoked to “Don’t You Want Me” and left the bar to make out in his car afterwards. When they sobered up and remembered that they made out, they didn’t make a big deal out of it and just complimented each other’s skills in kissing.
When FP babysits her mom’s friend’s baby girl (with her) it’s like payback for leaving her with Fred and his talks about a future with kids. She greets him by throwing a towel at his face once he opens the door to her house, and as FP is handling the baby so well, Alice is cackling at him and quotes all his sayings that he doesn’t see himself being a father, doesn’t like kids much, and is unsure about his future. And then FP starts talking to the baby about how Alice is being mean to him.
The baby is finally asleep and FP and Alice collapse on the couch together. Feeling bored, they start talking over whatever they’re watching from the TV. Alice brings up his proclamations of not being parent material again and FP just tells her “Stop, just stop."
"I don’t know. I guess I’m just scared of messing up, that’s all.” he adds, shaking his head.
The first time Alice and the group saw FP with a goatee, she commented that he looked like Satan.
Sad and Tragic Stories- Damian Wayne/Robin X Reader
You watched as the light faded away, casting a faint orange glow to the city you call home. Usually you would be finishing homework or reading a book, but you felt like watching the sun sink into the horizon. You snuggled closer into your knitted blanket and watched the sun finally disappear. One by one, the lights on the streets and the rooms in the buildings glimmered with pale lighting. You hated that the light pollution in Gotham prevented you from seeing the stars, and often pondered on booking a flight to the Atacama Desert in Chile to stargaze for hours. Even Dami- You shook your head. Of course you had to think about him, you scolded yourself. You sighed and returned your attention to the illuminated city. Why did he have to do it? You had no idea why, but a little voice in the back of your mind always says that it’s your fault. You knew you did nothing wrong, but what caused him to abandon you when you needed him the most? Your mother is in the hospital, your siblings are on the other side of the country with your father, and now you lost the love of your life. You felt warm tears fall down your cheeks and immediately wiped them off. You thought about the scene in The Outsiders and thought about its relatability. Nothing Gold Can Stay held an immense truth to you and there was nothing you could do about it. The doctors said that your mother only had a few months to live due to her wounds from the mugging and gave you many looks of pity and reassurance. You didn’t need anything from them, you needed your mom back, you needed your family back together, and you needed him. A faint knock from your apartment door interrupted your thoughts and echoed throughout your dark apartment. You stood up and abandoned the blanket at the window. When you reached the door you looked through the peep hole in the door and saw your elderly neighbor, Mary, holding what looked like her famous double chocolate chip cookies. You slightly smiled at her kindness and opened the door.
“Hi Mary. How’s the mint plant I gave you?” you asked.
Your smile faded when you saw blood dripping down her head.
“Mary, are you alright? You’re bleeding! Let me go get my medical supplies,” you stammered.
You were about to get the medical supplies but Mary collapsed onto the carpeted floor. You immediately rushed to her and tried to find the wound. There was bruising on the back of her head and a huge cut to go with it. Cackles could be heard to your left and caused shivers to travel up your spine. When you gained the courage to look up, the psychotic clown himself was munching on a cookie and staring at you with bloodshot eyes. You stood up and ran into your apartment, desperately searching for your phone. As you were running through your apartment, two gunshots taunted your ears. You collapsed and screamed. Excruciating pain erupted in your chest and abdomen. Tears clouded your vision and streamed down your face.
“Awwww. Don’t cry, girlie. Your neighbor over there is only knocked out and you are invited to my party!! There will be balloons, candy, cake, and a few other people I invited!! It’s gonna be a blast!!”
You screamed when he grabbed your wrist and dragged you across your carpet. He dragged you through the hall and into the elevator. You felt disoriented and nauseated, and the pain was becoming too unbearable. You felt your blood oozing out of your wounds and attempted to cover your free hand on the bullet wound in your chest, but your hand was too heavy. Everything was gaining a darker tone and soon you were too tired to keep your eyes open.
“Don’t worry, girlie! I’ll make sure Harley will fix you up for the party!”
You woke up on a table with leather straps wrapped around your torso and legs. The rough material dug into your skin, obviously bruising it the longer you remain trapped. Humming could be heard and music could be faintly heard off in the distance.
“Oh goodie ya awake!” a female voice squealed.
You moved your head to the right to see Harley Quinn in her usual red and black outfit with a matching psychotic smile on her face.
“Mistah J was wonderin’ when ya were gonna wake up. I’ll go tell him!!”
She happily bounced out of the room and slammed the metal door shut, leaving you alone in, what looked like to you, a torture chamber. Where do they get the frickin money for this?? You squirmed in the restraints until you got your right arm free. You felt around your torso for the bullet wound and came in contact with stitches. You frowned and put your hand near the bullet wound on your abdomen, which were also stitched. You heard footsteps coming from the opposite side of the door and fearfully slipped your hand back under the leather strap. The door bursts open and cackles flooded into the room.
“I hope you had a good nap, because the party is about to start!!” Joker exclaimed excitedly.
“I’ll get her chair, Puddin’!” Harley said while walking toward a decayed wooden door.
She pulled out a very colorful wheelchair that had matching leather straps with the table. While she was pulling out the wheelchair, Joker picked up a syringe from the metal table and plunged it into your neck. Your shout of pain was muted by his gloved hand. He pulled the syringe out and removed his hand.
“Just to make sure you don’t leave the party early.”
He then started to unbuckle the straps and drag your limp body onto the wheelchair. Harley fastened the straps on your arms, torso, and legs and started wheeling you through the dark hallway. Any attempt at moving a single centimeter went to waste and you were soon pushed into a room with faded bright colors and a massive broken window. She placed you in the empty spot in between black and yellow chairs and left you to join Joker across the room.
“You might be wondering why I brought you here! Well, I guess it all started when I saw a little bird frequently visit your window. You know what I thought? ‘Hey! The boy blunder either is a peeping tom, or cares about this girl!’ Your neighbor’s cookies were fantastic by the way,” he commented, “and now we’re waiting for my other party guests to arrive! But first, I wanted to give you a present for coming to my party!”
Harley handed him a small case and let a huge smile grow on her face. He opened the hatch and pulled out another syringe, but this time the liquid was green. Your eyes widened and your breathing rapidly increased. Your heart was pounding out of your chest and almost exploded when he was only inches away from your bruised neck. You felt the needle pierce your neck and soon its contents went into your bloodstream. Tears shed down your face and soon met the floor. He yanked out the needle and threw it onto the ground, the sound of glass breaking echoing throughout the room. He looked up to the ceiling and smiled.
“Hello, Batsy!! A little birdie showed me this wonderful flower!! Well, now she’s wilted, but that’s not the point,” he laughed.
“Let her go, Joker,” Batman’s deep voice demanded.
Joker tutted, “You always have a poor choice of words.”
He kicked your wheelchair towards the broken window and watched you drop. You couldn’t even let out a scream. You always thought that you were going to die happy, maybe have a few kids and a loving husband watching over you. You guessed the universe decided that was too kind.
“(Y/N)!” a familiar voice called out.
You felt the back of the wheelchair being grasped and you were suspended only a few yards away from the ground. You were slowly lowered to the ground and Robin quickly ran to your side to unfasten the straps. Once they were removed, he pulled you out of the chair and held you closely. After a couple of seconds, he readjusted you so he was carrying you bridal style. Just as he thought you were safe, you started laughing uncontrollably. His eyes widened and he ran as fast as he could to the Batmobile.
“Father! Please tell me you’re finished with the Joker, (Y/N) was injected with a newer version of Joker’s toxin.”
“I’m coming,” his father responded.
He looked back to you and hoped that it wasn’t too late to save you. Your face was stuck in a smile and tears were falling down your dirt covered face. Your face was getting paler and paler by the second and your body was seizing. He urged himself to go faster and finally met his father at the Batmobile. He handed your shaking body to his father and watched his father inject you with the antidote. You stopped laughing in a few minutes and faded out of consciousness.
“This will help, but not permanently. If this is a new toxin, then we need to have the proper antidote for her to recover.”
Damian nodded and glanced at you once again. This was the reason why he broke off your relationship: to make sure you were never involved and harmed. He had failed and you received the penalty. Bruce placed a hand on his son’s shoulder, hoping to provide him some comfort. Damian removed his father’s hand from his shoulder and made his way towards the passenger seat of the Batmobile. Bruce sighed and looked back at your unconscious form. He secured you into the gurney and walked to the driver’s seat. This was going to be a long night.
Once Bruce had taken your blood sample to made the antidote to the new toxin, Damian never left your side. Dick and Tim often came down to give Damian food and offer to watch you while he slept, but always refused to sleep. When Tim failed to persuade him, he left the room to help Bruce out with the antidote. After thirty minutes of arguing, Damian promised to sleep when it turned 9:00. That gave him ten more minutes to watch over your lifeless form and hope for the best.
“I know you’re the last person you would want to see right now,” Damian said, “but I never wished to hurt you, or put you into harm’s way. The reason why I ended our relationship was to protect you. Everyone I care about has been harmed in this type of life and now you have been too.”
Damian swallowed the lump in his throat before continuing.
“I have heard from many of my family’s experiences of either losing or having their loved ones harmed. I couldn’t imagine seeing you dead or harmed, so I did what I thought was best. I have read many tragedies, and I had to remind myself that they could become reality. They are sad and tragic stories, just like ours. I tried to prevent it, I have done everything I could to protect you, but it wasn’t enough. The reason why the Joker found you was because of me. I watched over you ever since I broke your heart, my cowardice led me to believe that you wouldn’t be safe, but I was the true reason why you were put in harm’s way. I am sorry for causing you this much pain. I wish that we didn’t live in this cruel and unjust world, but fate was not on our side. I hope that it will be on our side now.”
Damian grasped your hand and laid his head on the cot, finally letting sleep pull him into unconsciousness. Dick soon entered the room to tell Damian it was time, but was surprised to see him fast asleep with his hand holding yours. He slowly closed the door and walked toward the Bat Computer.
“Damian is asleep,” he told Bruce.
“Good,” he replied, “he needs his rest, especially after tonight.”
Molly Hooper rolled her eyes. “You know, as captain, you really should read the schedule. Do you even know where we’re going?”
“Of course I do,” he bristled, tucking his hat under his arm, squaring his shoulders. “We’re flying the Beechcraft Premier to-“
“No,” Molly shook her head. “That’s later, if the weather is good. We’re on the old bus today. And I’ll have you know we’re on this pick-up-drop off because of you.”
“Me?” he stopped walking, turning to face her so she did the same.
“Yes you!” hands on her hips, glaring up at him. “If you hadn’t kissed me while the speaker was still on-“
“I don’t recall you disliking it!”
She colored modestly. “No, I didn’t dislike it,” she answered, quieter, realizing they were still in public. “Sherlock, I love my job, I love what we get to do, we get to fly…”
“I know,” he nodded soberly, understanding her loss of words. There was no feeling like it. They were privileged enough to pilot some of the best aircraft in the country. Molly had once upon a time only been a sometimes co-pilot for him. John Watson had flown over one-hundred missions with him, until he was transferred to Lockheed-Martin, met the woman he decided he was going to marry, and then started up his own flight-school. Thus far, he and the newly-minted Mary Watson were teaching students to fly old aircraft- beautiful Lockheed Electra’s and smart little Piper Cubs and Cessna 172’s and thrillingly noisy WACO’s. Sherlock was…only a little jealous. Still, when he was given orders that Molly Hooper would be returning as his co-pilot, his heart skipped a beat. They worked well together, she was brilliant, beyond clever, and made a thirteen-hour flight seem like three. She wanted to be a flight instructor one day. She was excellent at what she did, and was happy to assist wherever she could. It was the flight to New Zealand, ten hours in when he turned to ask her to announce over the com about the sights, knowing she liked to do that sort of thing. Instead he kissed her, and she reciprocated. Unfortunately, the com was still on. He and Molly found themselves in the office of his elder brother, and owner of the company, quite angry at them both for their conduct.
Somehow, and it was a miracle, after three weeks of separate piloting and both having to practice touch-and-goes separately, they could fly together again. During those three weeks unable to work together, they made time after work to discuss the parameters of their relationship. They had decided they wanted the same thing, and after a discussion with Mycroft and several of their peers, they decided to take up an old offer from John, to help run his flight school in the country. Business was growing for the Watson’s, and they needed two more pilots who knew the planes mechanics as well as how to fly them. It would mean Sherlock and Molly would both need refreshers on the old aircraft. Still it would mean HR wouldn’t be breathing down their necks, and they’d still get to fly.
As they crossed the hanger bay to start the pre-flight checklist, Sherlock reached, and very meaning, drew her against his side, pressing a kiss to her temple. About to thank him for the gesture, she opened her mouth and suddenly yelped, feeling him pinch her bottom.
“Sherlock!” she gave him a shove, her laughter behind her blush was unmistakable. She handed him the checklist, trying very hard to be annoyed at him. “It’s our last set today, don’t spoil it by having it cancelled! So behave.”
“Fly the plane?” he quoted, and she nodded.
Rising on tiptoe, she kissed him once before she took his hat, placing it on his head, setting it at a cocked angle. She grinned, admiring him a moment.
“Fly the plane.”
‘Fly the plane’ is a phrase taught to pilots, meaning you are the one in control, don’t let the machine run you, just ‘fly the plane’.
They’re incredibly perfect and I’m obsessed with them, however it seems the stomach joint has been sanded too much so it’s actually a different shade of green than the rest of he body. It doesn’t really show in photos which is good but irl it’s a little distracting. But they’ll probs be wearing clothing over it anyway.
The mint green is a lot darker irl than it appears in photos, especially fairyland company photos.
Also it’s a realllll bitch and ¾ to attach the mermaid tail on, I had to restring them to do it.
Nem, nem a Neoton Família stárjáról van szó, hanem Balázs Ferenc nevű beugrós mosogatónkról.
Kedden betelefonált, hogy “éppen most tudtam meg, hogy a lányom ikrekkel terhes, dupla nagyapa leszek, kicsit berúgtam, úgyhogy inkább nem megyek”.
Ma Péter, a másik beugrós mosogatónk tűnt el nyomtalanul, mint a Mary Céleste legénysége: tudni kell, hogy a cégünknél minden héten csütörtökön van fizetésosztás, ilyenkor a mosogatók/takarítók két napig részegek.
Kemény szakma a vendéglátás.
Úgyhogy a cégközpontból felhívták Balázs Fecót, hogy munkaképes állapotban van-e, és a pozitív válasz alapján beirányították hozzánk. BF többé-kevésbé józanul megérkezett (csekély háromnegyed óra késéssel) és munkába állt. Én közben pörögtem, mint a ringlispíl a hadronütköztetőben: ebédeltetés, hidegszervízes csoport, Dining City, goblinok focimeccse, rabokfasza. Órákig tartogattam magamban a távozni akaró mérgezett folyadékokat, de olyan fél 6 körül éreztem: nincs tovább.
“Hol a Maci?” - bődültem fel fájdalmasan (a személyzeti helyiség kulcsára ugyanis egy plüssmaci van gumírozva - ennek is megvan a maga sztorija).
“Balázs Fecó van lent” - mondta rezignáltan L. Fecó, az állandó mosogatónk (aki 150 centi, 38 kiló és egy tigrisfog-nyaklánc lóg vánnyadt mellkasára, azonkívül egy régi agyvérzéséből kifolyólag többé-kevésbé mentális kihívásokkal küszködik).
Néhány perc múlva a továbbra sem magyar poplegenda visszaérkezett, és a hőn áhított kulcsot a kezembe nyomta. Lelifteztem a -2. szintre, ahol a mi kis meghitt helyünk van, kinyitottam az ajtót és megtorpantam, mint egy harci ló, ha vérszagot érez; az experience-et talán úgytudnám legjobban érzékeltetni, ha azt mondanám: olyan volt, mintha Hulk Hogan tiszta erőből homlokon kúrt volna egy rothadó polipokkal töltött gumikalapáccsal.
Egészen döbbenetesen büdös volt: a ragadozóját rémülten elűzni vágyó skunk minden bizonnyal élete keresményének a felét felajánlotta volna a receptért cserébe.
Mikor felmentem a konyhára, tapasztalatomat megosztottam a séffel, aki ezt bölcsen magába temette, majd mikor néhány perccel később Balázs kollégánk is elindult a kiürülés magasztos helye felé, kaján mosollyal nem szóltunk semmit.
Amikor visszatért döbbent és némileg zöld arccal, már röhögtünk.
Balázs Fecó egyértelműen a világon a legbüdösebbet szarja.
U.i.: A séfünk munkamoráljáról annyit, hogy miután végzett a melóval (este 8-kor, reggel 7-kor kezdett, a szerencsétlen), nekiállt domestossal vécét súrolni, távozása előtt elmesélte, hogy a retyó kívülről is szaros volt, ami azért tényleg X-akták.
ez elég vicces volt. a szintén dél-szudános doktorin dolgozó Zoé barátomról csak annyit tudtam, hogy Cambridgeben nőtt fel. mondta, hogy Izland és Észtország között ugorjak fel pár napra, rengeteg hely van a szülei házában. azzal fogadott a buszról leszállva, hogy a mamája vacsorával készül. a csattanó persze az, hogy a mama nem más, mint Mary Beard, a világ egyik leghíresebb ókorásza, Cambridge classics tanszékének professzora, a BBC állandó szakértője, a TLS szerkesztője stbstb. és persze remek szakács, pompás volt a fügés paprika!!! beletelt pár percbe, mire túltettem magam a dolgon (nemrég olvastam a Pompeiiről szóló könyvét). azzal váltunk el, hogy ha bármikor arra járok, feltétlenül ugorjak be egy gin tonikra, akkor is, ha Zoé nincs otthon :)
Duane laid in the courtyard on his back, staring up blankly at the sky as he waited for time to pass. Most of the student body should be in class at the moment, including himself, but with just being in study hall he decided skipping on class was not going to hurt anything. Plus it meant that he got the entire courtyard to himself.
In all honesty, it probably looked like there was a unconscious body dumped in the front yard to Beacon, but at this point, the large faunus didn’t really care if it drew any attention. Teacher or student, not much could get him up. Or so he told himself as he heard the footsteps heading toward him.
Maybe he doesn’t want to act out drowning his character’s wife with his not-exactly-wife-because-they-were-never-married-but-now-an-ex Amanda
Sherlock gets to kill another third of those triplets, just as they deserve for hurting both Sherlock and John, Gabrielle Ashdown, which would be a nod to TPLoSH in how Gabrielle aka Ilse aka Mrs. Ashdown aka the villain German spy is both defeated by Holmes and is eventually executed
And Mycroft gets to kill the 3rd triplet sibling who has blackmailed him into selling his brother to Jiminy Creeper, Mary Sherrinford aka The Other One
“My husband is 3 people” = TSo3
“My wife is 3 people” = T6T, TLD, TFP
We still haven’t seen in T6T ginger “Mary”, if Amanda Abbington’s Instagram is to be believed
We also haven’t seen “Mary” in the Setlock Mint and Mustard restaurant
T6T is Sherlock detail-rich alibi for John killing Mary