15 March 1985 @ 05:51 pm
WHO: Ethan, Lee, & Andre Jordan THE JORDAN MEN
WHAT: Early morning wake up calls!
WHEN: LIKE. Some time last week lmao
STATUS: Finishing in comments!

---Andre, is that a fanny pack? )
15 March 1985 @ 05:18 pm
For 3/14!  
Scarlett took a step back so that the fan could get a proper shot with their camera, the flash nearly blinding her. But, she maintained her smile. How could she not? She'd just finished playing the best game of her life! Ever! She was never going to do anything like that again---but who knew? The World Cup was far from over. As she was handed quill upon quill to sign her autograph away on a wide variety of parchment, shiny paper she wasn't sure of, pictures of herself, jerseys---one goal. She'd only let in one goal!

"I've got an action figure?" she let out in genuine, loud surprise as a fan presented her with the toy. The little figurine of her strode around the crevices of her palm and Scarlett gaped in awe. "Thank you! I didn't know this had---thanks!"

That fan got a special picture as Scarlett through her arm around his neck. Merlin! She tucked the figure into her front pocket and continued down the line. This was quite literally the best day of her life. Scarlett couldn't think of a single time she'd felt happier, she couldn't wait to go meet up with her parents tomorrow morning for breakfast (it was far too late for her elderly folks to go out for celebrations). She just...it was just bloody fantastic.

"And who should I make this out to?" she asked, not looking up at the fan as she took hold of the match program. Scarlett scrawled her signature over her image on the cover, grinning at how remarkable her bloody team was.
07 March 1985 @ 07:38 pm
She had been standing motionless on the lift for a vague five minutes now, fingers hovering over two buttons on the switch board. One would bring her back to her and Holly’s room, for it was very late and she should already be asleep by now, and the other….

Saoirse felt her hand spring to life, and quickly her thumb jammed down a decision. Tomorrow was a very important day; tomorrow would be her first World Cup match, tomorrow needed all her focus, tomorrow (today?) could not be filled with the doubt, misery, and guilt that had been plaguing her for the past three weeks. She had to--- no, she must---

The lift door pinged open, and with quiet feet Saoirse ambled onto the Welsh wing of the tournament’s housing facility.

She felt tired of feeling tired, tired of feeling miserable, and most importantly, tired of feeling cold, empty, and unhappy with herself. What had happened between her and Howell…. that hadn’t been what she wanted, it certainly wasn’t what she continued to want, so why it had occurred, with the strike of her hand no less was not…

Knowing that he was here, with a few floors always separating them, had been maddening at first. She had wanted to see him constantly, talk to Howell everyday, stupidly hoped that fate would intervene and allow them a fleeting moment in which they could share their lost days with one another. But then, as the week had progressed, that frenzy within her began to fade, and it quickly occurred to her there was a feeling nothing as terrifying as that. Losing her ridiculous, encompassing thoughts meant an outcome she did not wish to see realized, and it was because of this fear that had lead her to brashly uncover where Howell specifically was staying in a previous late-night stroll entirely unrelated to this one. There wasn’t much time left, was there?

Pulling her hair back, Saoirse easily stopped before her intended destination. It was not difficult to locate the door she wanted, the rooms were numbered the same in Irish quarters. Not waiting any longer, she knocked gently at first, and after a few silent moments, pressed close to the door.

“Howell?” Her voice sounded small, as she felt thus, and uncertain. A couple of more silent moments passed, and her lips formed into a frown. Perhaps it was too late, in both senses. Resting her forehead against the wood, Saoirse closed her eyes. “Howell?”
01 March 1985 @ 01:50 am
WHO: Thomas and family!
WHAT: Portkey Terminal!
WHEN: Getting ready to leave for New York!

I'll put a picture of your adorable face on her mobile )
28 February 1985 @ 08:20 pm
Vinny had been a very poor version of himself these past few weeks. He'd made decisions based on his childish emotions, said things that shouldn't have been said, and hadn't built up the nerve to apologize for his shitty behavior. That's what it was, shitty behavior. He wasn't a child anymore, he shouldn't be letting himself get so wrapped up and upset by things that didn't really matter, not at the end of the day.

He examined one of Gleny's bags with a thoughtful expression, wanting to go over their check list one more time. It was a strange feeling, sending her off on this grand trip while he stayed behind. They'd done practically everything together for the past year, so it was more than being jealous of her New York adventures. It was a yearning to be apart of them with her. He'd be all right though, they'd be all right.

Vinny's hand unconsciously ran over the top of Tristan's head, the boy having pushed under his arm. Gleny had made the decision to trust him with taking care of her son during her time in New York, and that faith him him helped push him out of the pity-party he'd been throwing himself.

"You've got your journal, right?" Vinny said softly. The terminal of the portkey port was closed off to the public, allowing the quidditch players and media heading to New York some private last minute moments with their family and friends. With all the people, the noise should have made it hard to hear, but it was more of a soft lull and it kept his voice low. "I haven't sent international owls in ages, I don't remember how long they take..."
26 February 1985 @ 05:13 am
Who: Winnie Llewellyn & Adian Rosenberg
Where: Twilfit and Tattings, Diagon Alley!

He really had no desire to return to Hit-wizard lock up. )
25 February 1985 @ 10:52 pm
Who: Cameron Montgomery & Nicola Scarpin
What: false identity! an American in London! Scandal!
Where: Diagon Alley!
When: last week!

She must entertain this Cameron Montgomery further to obtain the full story. )
25 February 1985 @ 02:18 am
Owl to Rose Knightly  
Happy Birthday

21 February 1985 @ 07:28 pm
Seth had spent the rest of his practice after his exchange with Savannah in a constant state of annoyance. He was sure that she hadn't meant it the way it sounded, but the words still settled under his skin. If your brother says nothing will fall apart, I trust that it won't. Well she hadn't just agreed to marry Henry, now did she? Seth knew that he had a lot to make up for, he had dug a pretty deep hole their first marriage, but he couldn't help but have hoped that her saying yes to his proposal meant that she trusted him.

He couldn't go back to having the first reaction being what did you do. And he certainly didn't want his wife relying on his brother to talk him out of doing things he shouldn't. By the time he made it over to Savannah's flat, Seth had managed to let go of most of his frustrations determined to talk this out as a level headed adult. If they had any hopes of their relationship to work, Seth had to know Savannah trusted him and his judgement. He knocked on the door as he let himself in, "Savannah?"
20 February 1985 @ 02:08 pm
Who: Howell Williams & Saoirse Mullet
Where: bookclub!
When: before Valentine's!

This was definitely a good thing. )
18 February 1985 @ 09:05 pm
Flynn was sure the day was never going to end. It didn’t help that he kept checking the clock to make sure it was still working, though usually he was able to banter with the customers when they came in to make a purchase – his knowledge of music had grown significantly after spending so much time around the Dorny’s. One of them was usually singing along with whatever song was playing in the background, and they were usually very theatric about it. It was like working with performers who didn’t actually sing or play instruments, but he found them more entertaining if he had to be honest. They let him do pretty much whatever he wanted when he was at the store, so long as he also did his job of course.

Today, he had done everything he needed to do before his shift had started: he reorganized all the albums since the afternoon crowd had shifted a lot of them around, he restocked the receipt paper, swept a bit, and as he had promised, moved a few copies of Mattie Scarpin’s record to the front of the store so they were more prominently displayed. He was glad to see a few copies had sold since his shift had started, though if he had to be honest he was kind of glad the store was pretty quiet since it gave him time to finish some sketches he had been working on. He was just starting on the shading of Wolverine when he heard the bell of the door jingle, signaling a new customer had walked in.

His eyes lifted from the paper, the beginning sequence of ‘California Dreaming’ playing in the background as he looked over to acknowledge the woman who had just entered. He gave her a few seconds to look around before placed his pencil down and approached, keeping his distance since some people thought it was more bothersome than helpful whenever he offered assistance.

“Need help with anything?” He asked with a slight lift of his brows, showing she had his attention if she needed or wanted it. There was something awfully familiar about her, though he couldn’t place his finger on where he had seen her before… She was beautiful though, and he hoped she didn’t just brush him off and send him back to watching the clock and shading. He only had another half an hour or so until his shift ended and the store would close, but minutes were starting to feel like hours because of how dead it was.

Artwork credited to timmayer
17 February 1985 @ 10:45 pm
WHO: Octavius Pepper & Mira Jasper
WHAT: Some wrangling
WHERE: Mira's
WHEN: Immediately before this thread

You can’t possibly hear that through the door. )
16 February 1985 @ 07:57 pm
for misses fawcett  

february fourteenth
next to her pillow when she wakes up

(miss s fawcett)

february fifteenth
on her vanity, tied with a bow


february sixteenth
a set on her bedside table


february seventeenth
sent through the post during lunch


february eighteenth
waiting on the kitchen table  


february nineteenth
all around the house when she wakes up


february twentieth
  casually laid out on the bed


16 February 1985 @ 02:06 pm
"Dedalus, have you seen Elphias?"

Phoebe stood in the doorway of Dedalus Diggle's office, hands clasped together in front of her, a nervous look in her eyes. She was using every fiber in her being to maintain her composure, to keep her cool. She just needed to know if--she wasn't sure what she really needed right now, because the thought that Elphias had explained his...his...if he had told Dedalus and not her, Phoebe wasn't sure how well she would be able to handle it.

She simply didn't understand. She didn't....she knew that they'd had their fights, which were mostly her letting out her frustrations, but...but she'd always tried so hard to be with Elphias, to be there for Elphias, so what...what had changed? Was it supposed to be so hard? Phoebe couldn't honestly believe that she'd missed the signs, she knew she hadn't ignored...Her eyes shut for a moment, and she let out a shaky breath, trying to seem concerned, but not give away how ready she was to lose absolutely control of herself.

Her eyes shot open and she batted them prettily, smiling quickly at Dedalus to keep his concern at a minimum. She straightened her back and looking quickly around the office. "I'm sorry to bother you so late."