partial beard

On to @thebisexualmandalorian‘s gift!

Blacklist abby’s ficmas if you don’t want to see these

Fandoms: Star Wars
Characters: Boba Fett, Captain Rex, Commander Wolffe, Fulcrum/Ahsoka Tano
Pairings: implied Wrecksoka
Rating: T
Warnings: Fictional Swearing, Angsty Teenager™
AU: Boba is lowkey adopted by his older brothers

At a shady bar on Nal Hutta, Boba Fett was just looking for some anonymity. With the last skirmishes between Republic holdouts finally over, people were feeling none too friendly towards clones, even small ones.

Thankfully, the bartender didn’t much care about Boba’s age; as long as he had the credits, he could order whatever he damn well pleased.

It was a big galaxy, it should be easy for Boba to slip through the cracks and disappear, to never see anyone who knew his past ever again… but then a horrifically familiar face walked through the door.

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Untitled Fremione

Pairing: Fred/Hermione
Rating: G
Chapters: 1
Word count: 2,724

Setting: Takes place during Goblet of Fire. Actually starts the very moment Fred and George cross the age line to put their names in the Goblet of Fire.


Been a long time since I posted Fremione! This was born of my insomnia at 4am. No beta, so I hope it looks alright. Should I post it on Title suggestions?


They only had a second to savor the feeling of victory before…

Fred and George were thrown back across the floor. Hermione straightened in her seat, craning to see past other students, yet not bothering to get up from her spot. When Fred and George rolled over and sat up, long white beards flowed down from their jaws, the length of which could rival Professor Dumbledore’s. Hermione chuckled to herself and shook her head before reopening her book. She paused however when she heard the dying laughter rise again, even louder than before. Because of the crowd that had gathered, she was forced to stand in order to see. She had no idea what had started the scuffle, but Fred and George were wrestling on the floor. Hermione huffed and made her way over, pushing through the hooting and cheering crowd.

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Help the Homeless (to Help Yourself)

So, I’m in a bit of a sticky situation.

Some quick, basic background information to help you along and then we’ll get started with the problem - Four months ago I moved to the west from the northeast, mainly because I hate the cold, but also because the city happened to house the college of my dreams. This means that my family currently lives literally across the country from my tiny, underfurnished apartment. My roommate Kate likes to stay out all night and drink. She pays half the rent and respects the tradition of pajama/movie night Thursday, though, so I keep her around.

Anyway, about two weeks into my new life, I finally found a decent coffee shop to invest my time in. Seriously. Perfect. Not a big business, not over-busy in the morning, not so hot that it scalds my tongue every goddamn sip… It’s the perfect cup of joe, alright?

Not kidding - the next day, while I am still riding the high of this glorious discovery, I find out a homeless tramp lives in the adjacent alleyway.

And he takes a liking to me.

It’s not terrible at first. I’m not usually one to strike up a conversation with strangers. I mean, I’m a thin, seriously lanky, pale dude, with about as much muscle as you would expect a small kitten to have. And I respect the whole “teach people not to attack instead of teaching someone to defend themself” ideology but there was still no way I wasn’t considering self defense.

Turns out I didn’t need it. Although he looked off-putting, the vagrant who introduces himself to me and asks what my favorite book is (The Once and Future King, T.H. White) seems like a totally harmless, if not mildly touched, old man.

I don’t remember much about our first meeting, but something sticks about him telling me I looked lost, an awkward laugh on my part, and him then going on to proclaim that my hair was “too light” (I’m a natural blond) and “styled weird” (meaning messy). Despite this, he miraculously grew on me pretty quickly. In fact, more often than not, I would buy him a coffee in the morning too, and he would walk with me to my bus stop. The first few times I was slightly worried about him taking note of this crucial location to my life, but he never once made a fuss when it was time for him to leave. We had some pretty great conversations on our block-walks.

We’ll call him Al, because even though I’ve tried, no matter what, I still can’t bear to leave him nameless.

Al and I talked about a lot of things. We had a lot of similar views about the world. He said that he liked to go to the center of town and listen to the music young people played there. He said he liked to go to bookstores with the change he saved up. The only time I ever asked him why, he said, “This world, well- it’s a shitty one, son. No two ways about it. But in a bookstore, there’s millions of worlds that are slightly less shitty, or where it’s equally shitty, but the characters get better hands that I never got. So I like to share that time with them.”  Hearing him talk about the things he loved was one of the greatest pleasures of my life. His playful eyes lit up and he got a small smile on his partially-hidden-by-beard lips. He looked away to the left as he spoke slightly softer.

“What’s your all-time favorite book, Al?” I asked him after that.

He looked at me from the side of his eyes and smiled beneath that long, mangy beard of his. “It hasn’t been written yet,” he confessed. “But I’ll know when I find it.”

“Okay, well then, what’s your favorite, er, experience you’ve ever shared so far?”

He turned to face me full on, then. He looked me dead in the eyes and said softly, “This one.” It was the first moment I was sure beyond a doubt that I liked Al. I don’t know why I never invited him back to my house for a shower and a sandwich or something. I know Kate wouldn’t have minded. I think, at the time, I convinced myself that it was because of all my schoolwork, or that my budget was too low to care for him the way he needed it. I was selfish, but Al was nice. He never asked or imposed or even insinuated that he would like to see where I lived or use my phone.

And then, a month and a half later, out of the blue he stops showing up. I ventured as far into his alleyway as I dared the day it happened, but his treasured sleeping mat and plastic bag of books were nowhere to be found. I bought him a coffee and left it at the mouth of the alley just in case I had missed him, and I took my walk to the bus stop. It felt pretty weird to be alone. The bus regulars whom I had never spoken to actually asked me where Al was.

The next day the coffee was still there. I checked - the cup was full and cold. So, being a college kid in America and battling serious budget issues already, I couldn’t buy a coffee to waste again. I did check around the city’s homeless shelters, food pantries, and even the local emergency room as soon as I got a chance, though. Nobody had ever heard of anybody remotely like Al.

So, eventually, I let it go.

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here is part 2 to four men and a baby :) soozzz it took like 7 years, it always takes a while for me to get inspired… anyway, i decided after this chapter the rest are not necessarily going to be in chronological order, just a bunch of related one shots so if you have any requests for this series let me know :)

When Michael was five, all he wanted for his birthday was a Tamagotchi.

He could still remember his sixth birthday party; how he had spent the better half of it starring longingly at the growing pile of presents on the picnic table, how none of the gifts looked quite the right shape, and how his mom had ruffled his dirty blond hair, uttering a phrase she used all too often in his childhood: “Patience, baby bear.”

Michael has always been a lot of things: loud, tactless, impulsive, and determined but never patient. Thankfully, his mom has always known him better than anyone else, and only made him wait long enough to secure a Spiderman party hat over his messy hair before gathering everyone so the birthday boy could finally open his presents.

Carelessly tearing the wrapping paper off of gift after gift, he was disappointed again and again when what was unwrapped was not what he had been pleading for. He was grateful, of course, for all the gifts he received, saying “thank you” with a toothy grin (even when his grandma gave him that dumb ugly sweater), but he couldn’t help but be extra grateful when his dad placed one last tiny package in his lap, joking “I think you forgot one Mikey.”

He spent the next two weeks with the egg-shaped game clutched tightly in his tiny palm; feeding, cleaning, and training his little electronic pet with a dedication that rivaled any true parent. He was probably on track to be the most responsible six-year-old Tamagotchi owner ever… and then he met Calum.

He didn’t mean to start spending more time playing with his new best friend rather than tending to his responsibilities as a virtual pet owner. He didn’t mean to lose the key-chain in the mountains of clothes and toys that comprised his bedroom. He certainly didn’t mean to forget it there until his mom made him clean his room so Calum could come over for their first official sleepover.

When he found it moments before Calum’s mom dropped him off, his poor pet Todd was dead. The first order of business for “Mikey and Cal’s First Sleepover” was holding a funeral for the forgotten Tamagotchi, with Calum holding Michael’s hand as he said goodbye to his first pet, and decided that maybe parenthood just wasn’t for him.

Now he was twenty and not much has changed: Calum was still his best friend, his mom still knew him better than anyone, and he still wasn’t sure if he was the most qualified to take of a election pet, let alone an actual human baby.

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I was watching a movie in which a the gay protagonist got the ever loving shit beaten out of her after she came out. So as I love suffering thought of my gay hockey sons. 

While Bitty has two years of 1 in 4 maybe more at Samwell left Jack doesn’t. Bits is out because he can be Jack’s not out because he can’t be. Jack doesn’t have this safe environment where he can be his true, open self. After he graduates Bitty moves in with Jack and gets a little job at this local bakery eventually taking over and running it himself. He still runs his blog, explaining  to his growing fan base that he has moved in with his boyfriend but the dear just can’t risk a guest appearance. But if you listen carefully sometimes you can hear a low chuckle coming from the next room in the background of his videos and once or twice even some quiet French conversations while Bits was prattling off his newly adapted blueberry cobbler recipe. Then there’s the issue of clothes: Bitty has had to re-shoot countless times as he started the video in a shirt that Jack  had warn just a tad too recently or special Zimmermann  fanmerch that wasn’t on sale to the general public yet. 

This isn’t easy for Jack either. Obviously Jack’s still playing for the NHL so he’s already pushing things having Bits live with him but after Bits starts making it to more and more of his games- practically all of his home games- Jack can barely handle not scooping Bittle up into a kiss after a particularly good game. 

They told Jack’s parents first, during Bitty’s junior year when he went up to Montreal with Jack during Christmas. ((They told them almost as though they were seeking advice.)) Then Jack came out to Tater, as talking about “his girl” finally became too hard. Jack then quickly told Shitty, because something seemed wrong about Tater and his parents knowing but not someone who was practically his brother. Bitty told Lardo drunkenly causing her to laugh and said she’d known practically since the fourth of July. They told Bitty’s parents on the fourth of July a year after Jack had properly met them both. And they told the rest of the Samwell team after Bitty graduated, getting a mix of thoroughly upset (Ransom and Holster)  to thoroughly overjoyed (Chowder) responses. 

Bitty had been living with Jack for a year when he told the entire Falconers team. Jack proposed to Bitty a week after he told them. Jack wanted too tell the world that he had this wonderful  supportive fiance who came to his games and  lived with him and made him so so so happy. 

But Jack plays for the National Hockey League. Jack had a career. and while it was unfair his manager and everyone else advised against it. And when Jack got completely enraged and threw a chair his job was threatened. 

Then the rest of the Falconers flipped their shit. The team that Jack subconsciously decided didn’t care all that much for him stood by his side and demanded that he be allowed to come out and tell the world about his beautiful sweet pie making fiance or they would walk.  

Clearly after a few days of a complete hot mess and Guy coming close to fighting their Coach they were set. It was decided that Jack and Bitty would come out at a press conference the next week. When Jack relayed the story to Bitty that night he got a little lighthearted scolding about how it wasn’t worth his job and that if he had to wait until Jack was ready to retire he would. He then blushed and asked if Jack really threw a chair over him and promptly covered the boy in kisses. 

They decided to wait until after the playoffs to get married and then to wait until after that to officially come out. The waiting was more of Bitty’s call as he didn’t want everyone managing Jack’s career to hate him too much and with the high hopes that Jack would win the publicity that would follow with the wedding would hopefully good.

The Falconers did win the Stanley Cup that year. Jack and Bitty did get married shortly after– the main complication of their wedding was deciding whether or not Jack should shave his beard, partially just for the irony of having a gay man getting married with a nice full beard. But when Bitty off offhandedly said he missed seeing his “perfectly chiseled” jaw and cheekbones Jack shaved without batting an eye. 

The wedding went over well and everything was finally finally perfect for them. BUT when Jack and Bitty did come out, what followed wasn’t exactly pretty. A couple of guys from the other team would call Jack the worst names before games and while he could deal with it Tater and Guy didn’t stand for it and got pulled into the box on multiple occasions. It wasn’t until someone shouted out that he was married to a “little blond twink” that Jack actually played into it. He socked the guy in the jaw and provoking him to fight back almost breaking Jack’s nose– when Tater stepped in and ended up breaking the guys collar bone. (Couldn’t be said who actually broke it though  as everyone on the Falconers was practically on top of the guy for hurting their lil’ Zimmboni… or at least that was the story everyone seemed to be sticking to) 

Afterwards Jack came out with a statement saying how they had waited so  long to just be themselves and the fact that other people couldn’t accept them for it was appalling but he still apologized to other guy and hoped in the future they could play a more civil game. 

A few other guys across the NHL followed suit telling their own stories about bigotry on the ice and how it should not only be stopped in hockey but everywhere.

At Renoir’s Home, rue St-Georges (formerly The Artist’s Studio, rue St.-Georges), 1876

Pierre-Auguste Renoir

French, 1841-1919
Oil on canvas
18-1/8 x 15 in. (46 x 38.1 cm)

Renoir’s only studio group portrait records an informal conversation among his friends in his Montmartre studio. The central figure holding a book and appearing to lead the discussion is the art critic and Renoir’s biographer, Georges Rivière. The bald, bearded man partially hidden to the right is painter Camille Pissarro. Less definite are the identities of the other three men.

The Norton Simon Museum