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itsduckinghard · 5 days ago

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James May: why Top Gear didn’t need to sack Jeremy Clarkson

As his new programme about famous explorers hits Channel 5, the former Top Gear presenter talks to Andrew Billen about life after The Grand Tour

Friday January 31 2025, 12.01am GMT, The Times

We are, obviously, in a bar, although not the Royal Oak, the pub James May part-owns in the Wiltshire village where he lives, but the Cross Keys, near his other home in west London. We have secured an unheated games room at the back, but it does not stay unheated for long once May spots its wood-burning stove. He is soon making a fire. As he works, he delivers a mini-lecture on why the stove door should initially be kept ajar so as to adjust the ratio of oxygen to carbon dioxide, and what to do thereafter (close the door). I thank him for this gratis masterclass.

“But I don’t think anybody really knows,” Mays says. “Well, actually, the Scandis do, because they write big books about it. They love a bit of log bollocks.”

When we meet he is a week off turning 62, but although he trembles in the January chill, he looks otherwise as roadworthy as when he joined Jeremy Clarkson and Richard Hammond on the BBC’s Top Gear two decades ago. This testy, testosteronic triumvirate became heroes of the counter-counterculture, reactionary in everything from their jokes to their alcohol consumption. (This mid-morning, May, a fan of beer, wine and spirits, is on the hot chocolate, because there is one beverage he hates and it is coffee.) When Clarkson crashed their telly vehicle in 2015 and was fired for assaulting a producer who had failed to conjure a steak after a day’s filming in North Yorkshire, May and Hammond resigned in solidarity, but the three did not have to wait long before Prime Video pounced on them. For another eight years, they bumped and bounced classic cars around the world until The Grand Tour was itself hauled to the scrapyard last year, by which time the trio were multimillionaires and — or so they would insist — heartily sick of one another’s company.

But age cannot depreciate May. His hair, for one big thing, remains defiantly Seventies roadie. “I either look like I’ve had some sort of weird Victorian ailment or a bit like Valerie Singleton in her Blue Peter days,” he says of having tried it shorter. With his white moustache and goatee, I say he is going a bit Big Yin. “I think,” he says, “men have a duty to experiment with facial hair.”

Last summer he broke his wrist falling off his bike after failing to negotiate a puddle, and without his regular ten-mile cycle rides he has felt “podgy and lethargic”. You will clock his bandaged hand on Channel 5’s James May’s Great Explorers, in which he disassembles the myths and scrutinises the nuts and futtocks of the voyages of Christopher Columbus, Walter Raleigh and James Cook. The three-parter is funny and irreverent — at one point he calls the British Museum “the world’s largest lost property office” — but also one of the most seriously educative series he has made (and he has made nearly 30 since 1998). For Channel 5, his signing is a big deal and its PRs have supplied him with briefing notes, because, he explains, they think he is senile.

“So it reads here, ‘Channel 5 is the destination for unmissable, high-quality factual programming.’ That’s not the sort of thing I am known for, is it?”

Or it. When Channel 5 launched, it was famous for its soft porn.

“Yeah, porn,” he says turning faux-naive. “Apparently a lot of teenagers look at porn now on the internet, whereas when I was a teenager, it was something you might find on a building site, if you were lucky.”

Or in a hedge on the way to school. Pretty vanilla by today’s standards (I believe). “Not even sex. In some ways I’m glad I’m not young any more. It sounds like hard work.”

The briefing notes put to one side, we turn to his series’ verdicts on history’s great grand tourists. He accuses Cook of being party to a “land grab by an empire [British] hellbent on world domination”, calls Raleigh a “wild boy with a taste for violence” and relays the unwelcome news that Columbus was the largest single trader of enslaved indigenous people of his era. Such debunking may surprise those who assume that Clarkson’s politics were something that his Top Gear amigos had also navigated towards. Does May, I ask, think Kemi Badenoch will approve of Great Explorers?

“Is Badenoch pro or against reparations? She would be against, wouldn’t she? Well, my first response to your question would be, I hope she enjoys it. And I hope…”

She learns something?

“I mean, I don’t want people to get the impression that this is a deep analysis of the psychology and policy of colonialism. It is really about navigation and sail technology and barrel-making and biscuits. Those ship’s biscuits are so awful.”

The thing is, I say, he is a centrist who identifies as a “bloke”, but the term seems to have been colonised by the right.

“I think the definition has changed. Being a bloke used to mean camaraderie. And then, at one point, it meant being dependable and handy, and then more recently it came to mean sort of endearingly hopeless. Now ‘bloke’ possibly means yob. Men are being, in many ways, belittled. My idea of man-ness — and I would say this, because I’m not a tough guy or anything like that — is a kind of dependability and practicality. Men are supposed to be able to do things. They’re not supposed to rejoice in their own uselessness and think it’s cute, because it isn’t. It’s feeble.”

I suppose people could be suspicious of him because his shows have featured so few women (although some are interviewed on Great Explorers including — political correctness gone mad — a female skipper). Does he enjoy the frisson of male-only company?

“I like the company of women because I find them really fascinating and they’re sort of the most wonderful thing on earth, but there is a camaraderie that men have when they’re trying to achieve something. You see it on building sites and factories where things are being made. There’s a bit of a movement going on, people saying, ‘Oh, we need to reinvent safe male spaces,’ and I used to think, ‘Oh, sod off. They’re called garages and workshops.’ ”

And if you’re posh, gentlemen’s clubs.

“I’ve been to a few of those places and if it’s blokes together eating too much red meat and farting a lot, I haven’t got much time for it, to be honest. But a load of blokes building a shed or playing darts, I could go for that. But I’m perfectly happy if there’s a load of women there as well.”

He has been with his partner, Sarah Frater, the dance critic, for 24 years (he has said he felt he left it too late to have children), but does he have platonic women friends? “Yes, loads. Some of them I’ve known for 45-plus years.”

I imagine his technique with women was to make them laugh.

“Well, maybe a bit later on. Not when I was young. I think I was actually too nerdy. I was a bit of a late developer.

Were there girls at his school?

“I went to a modern comprehensive. I had lots of girlfriends and things.”

But no sex involved?

“Not until I was about 16.”

That sounds quite early to me, I say (envious). “Sixth-form college. I must have been 17 actually.”

‘I don’t actually think our Top Gear had to end’

May hates the television cliché of celebrities on personal “journeys” in order to discover themselves. “I think, ‘Oh, f*** off!’ Find out some stuff and tell me something authoritative, or at least considered.” For him, one of the merits of Great Explorers is that it is about journeys to the end of the earth, not the soul.

Compare and contrast The Grand Tour, the diesel-oiled phoenix that rose from the ashes of Clarkson and co’s Top Gear. During its run, the show increasingly depended on our interest in its presenters. Particularly once the portable big-tent studio that substituted for the BBC’s aircraft hangar in Surrey was decommissioned, The Grand Tour no longer gloried in its cars. Instead, we watched hoping to observe the drivers’ characters revealed under pressure. The problem was, every time crisis stripped off a layer of self, the new layer revealed looked exactly as tough and leathery as the one before. And if it was insights into an inter-bloke dynamic you were interested in, you could never be sure the trio’s hostility was scripted or spontaneous. Someone’s car would break down and the other two would gloatingly zoom past. But why wouldn’t they, since a film crew with its attendant mechanics, was already at the beleaguered party’s side, ready to help?

I would judge last September’s feature-length finale of The Grand Tour a masterpiece, epic, funny and moving — because parting is always such sweet sorrow, even for frenemies. Only in the most limited sense, however, was The Grand Tour factual programming. In one scene the three smelted a pile of silver trinkets bought cheap in Zimbabwe and came up with the idea of moulding them into accessories for their cars, in May’s case a solid silver steering wheel. In the morning it had miraculously been fitted to his Triumph Stag. It was magic realism, I say, not documentary.

“It was a pantomime, really, I think. We ask you to go along with it. I mean, it was a mixture of things that were obviously deeply and knowingly contrived, but then a lot of the stuff that made it in was just stuff that happened. The expression in television is, ‘The universe will provide.’ If you’re going to drive across the spine of Africa or drive through India, stuff is going to happen. It just is. If the cameras are rolling, well, you’ve got your content.”

Perhaps, to continue this line of thinking, the universe provided for Clarkson, Hammond and May when stuff happened in that Yorkshire hotel in 2015. Perhaps ten years ago this spring the universe decided to give Amazon’s then newish streaming service a blast of front-page publicity and make three motoring journalists super-rich. Or perhaps the trio’s split from the BBC was avoidable?

“I thought it was very unfortunate and I don’t actually think our Top Gear had to end because of it. I think it could have been patched up and put down to a bit of high stress and flightiness, to be honest. It happened. It’s regrettable and it’s unfortunate, but it didn’t need to lead to the collapse of something very successful. Maybe these things are ordained and it was time for us to move on. We had been doing it by then for a decade, I think, more. And I never imagined it would last as long. I went into it from magazine journalism and I thought it would be a good laugh probably for a couple of years.

“I mean, without being big-headed about it, we were Top Gear and we were one of the biggest TV shows in the world at the time. It was quite an intense environment and it’s not entirely surprising that it occasionally went off the rails. If we’d been AC/DC or Thin Lizzy, nobody would have been the slightest bit surprised.”

And they were blokes.

“We’re all blokes and we worked quite hard and quite long hours and it was exciting but it was quite difficult.”

Did they fight? “No, not seriously. We used to squabble but, no, we weren’t Fleetwood Mac. We didn’t get that bad. We didn’t end up absolutely loathing each other, taking legal action against each other or anything like that.”

Although I have always thought May and Clarkson shared the same speech patterns and that Hammond was Sorcerer Clarkson’s devoted apprentice, the three, May says, were never very alike. “I like to think of myself as fairly liberal. I think of the other two as Stuckists, trying to live in the Twenties. I’ve always said Jeremy is a bit of an Edwardian and Hammond is Toad of Toad Hall with his little waistcoat and his vintage car.”

On location, May and Hammond convened meetings of “James & Richard’s Debating Society” (up for debate one night: how do you know a dog is a dog?) and the club has never been dissolved. “Jeremy never really got involved in that. I think he just thought we were being boorish or something. Or maybe he doesn’t have very many views on, say, a society that grows vertically and then falls over.

“I think Jeremy likes to have strong opinions. It’s what on the internet would be called, ‘Trust me, bro.’ But then again, when we went to the North Pole years ago, I spent many days sitting alongside Jeremy Clarkson and indeed sharing a tent with him, and we had some very entertaining discussions about banalities like food from our childhood and people’s trousers. Stuff like that.”

Does he share Clarkson’s view, as expressed on the GT finale, that electric vehicles are unreviewable as they are, like fridges, just “white goods”?

“No. I completely disagree with him on that. We have debated that quite a lot. I think the electric so-called revolution — it isn’t one really, as we’ve had electric cars for well over 100 years — is a great experiment and it makes cars interesting to talk about again. I know what he means because he’s saying there’s no engine to fall in love with. We have become very obsessed with internal combustion mainly because it’s flawed and it’s the flaws that make it fascinating. It’s a bit like people.”

‘I saw Jeremy recently. He seemed all right. We just seem older’

It strikes me that TG and GT were never about friendship. They were sit-docs about people who had to work together, and more The Office than Last of the Summer Wine. May likes that thought. “We’re not natural friends. That’s actually why it worked. I often looked back at Top Gear and The Grand Tour and thought in many ways I didn’t really belong on it. But that’s exactly why I was on it. It needed one of each of us for it to work.”

At the end of the last Grand Tour, the three stood on a mound on the Makadikadi salt pan in Botswana and gazed in opposing directions. Then they roared off towards their different horizons and we saw May delete his colleagues’ numbers from his phone. He came up with the joke, he says, but when I ask whether they will ever work together again, he says he wouldn’t have thought so, no.

So how are Clarkson-May relations? The former has banned the latter from his pub, the Farmer’s Dog in Oxfordshire, but May says he wasn’t intending to visit it anyway, given it is 80 miles from his own hostelry. I ask whether, when Clarkson had his heart attack (which is how Clarkson described it to Newsnight in November), May rang him. “I didn’t read that bit. I thought he was warned that he would have a heart attack. I did actually see him a few weeks later, at a funeral, unfortunately, of someone we both knew. He seemed all right. We just seem older.”

The three have certainly ended up in different places, Clarkson, most successfully, on Prime Video’s Clarkson’s Farm, Hammond on his car restoration show Richard Hammond’s Workshop and May in his nerd-fest, James May and the Dull Men, shown, like Hammond’s programme, on Discovery+. None appears to be on a route back to the BBC, although May advised the corporation to release Top Gear from the state of permanent suspension it has been in since presenter Andrew Flintoff’s accident in December 2022.

“I think it should come back. There have been mutterings about Amazon reinventing The Grand Tour as a sort of Son of Grand Tour without us. I think it’s time to reinvent the genre of car programming. There must be another way of doing it, but it will require some other young and worldly people to work out what it is. I don’t really know what it is.”

For May, however, it does seem the end of the road for him and Prime Video, the streamer having terminated his shows Oh Cook!, in which he learnt to cook, and Our Man in…, in which he explained the ways of Japan, Italy and India to blokes. Has Amazon cancelled him?

“I don’t really know, to be honest. I remember at one point, Amazon told me they wanted to do either really big stuff like their James Bond series or Lord of the Rings, or very small things like Oh Cook!, which for them was a tiny budget programme. But then they changed again and just wanted to do really big things. So, that wasn’t me. I’m not big enough or I don’t have enough viewers. Channel 5 is a nice home.”

He muses on what he might do for it next. A surgery programme maybe. “I mean, I would actually like to film a hip replacement.”

I wonder, however, how much he misses the travel, given that for Great Explorers Channel 5 flew him no further than Seville, supposedly on the grounds that if you replicated their original voyages the series would take at least 11 years to make.

“Yes, I still get excited about getting on aeroplanes and passport control and so on. But I’m also quite enjoying staying at home or going to places in Britain like I did in my childhood. I’ve done enough deserts and rainforests. If I want to go to Italy or Scandinavia, which I also love, I can just go on a simple holiday.”

We must not forget that Amazon left May and his former colleagues so rich that a weekend break in Europe is the smallest of change, and even a divorce such as the one Hammond announces days after I meet May is quite doable. May never reveals how much Amazon paid him, but the fact he owns two homes, his own gin business, nine cars garaged in an underground bunker (in London he drives a VW Polo and a Tesla) and a light aircraft, gives us an idea. It is far from the middle-class comforts he grew up with as the son of an aluminium factory manager in Bristol, then Newport in Wales and then Rotherham. Although a good-with-his-hands Blue Peter lad rather than a groovy Magpie viewer, he resented the BBC’s assumptions about its audience.

“There was that show called Why Don’t You Just Switch Off Your Television Set and Go Out and Do Something Less Boring Instead?. There were always kids on who had things their grandpa had made them like a go-kart or they had a sailing dinghy or a radio-controlled aircraft carrier or something and you used to watch it and think, ‘Oh, f*** off!’ ”

Like those Enid Blyton children who lived in big houses and had uncles with another big house by the sea?

“And a cook. That used to really annoy me because it was very overindulged rich kids with things that I didn’t have.”

And now he has?

“I don’t really think about that. I think the secret to a happy life — and I always thought this and I pretty much stuck to it, even when I was flat broke in my twenties — is to live within your means.”

So he doesn’t really think about money? “No, not really.”

That is a luxury for most people, isn’t it? “Well, it probably is unless they strictly live within their means.”

‘I read a lot of poetry’

We know that Great Explorers, a series visibly intent on living within its means, is not about its presenter’s self-discovery. Nevertheless, watching it you glean hints of who May is when not being sitcommed on The Grand Tour. I ask which of Columbus, Raleigh and Cook is his favourite.

“Columbus was obviously a bit of a badass. He ended up clapped in irons by his own king and queen. He definitely enslaved people and he definitely brutalised people. Raleigh? I think in modern terms we’d call him a grifter, wouldn’t we?”

I thought May, who studied music at college, plays the harpsichord and collects art, might appreciate Sir Walter, the sonnet-composing renaissance man.

“And some of his poetry is quite good. Some of it is pretty awful. People like Sir Philip Sidney are rather better. I read a lot of poetry and I’ve even written a bit.”

Does he still?

“Not very much. I write haikus.”

Can he give me one?

“Forest of bamboo/ What then should we make of you?/ Probably a hat.”

Take that, Raleigh. So Cook, with his cartography and science, is his man?

“Because I think he’s a bit of a nerd.”

It is time to go. Gathering his briefing notes, May realises triumphantly he has not referred to them once. The wood-burner is dying down, but the fire in my interviewee’s belly? It burns bright. James May is the eternal combustion engine that never combusts into anger, the Grand Tourist more likely to write a poem than raise a fist, a bloke, but one suited to the age of the electric car.

James May’s Great Explorers starts on Channel 5 on February 13 at 9pm

#james may

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kybelles · 11 months ago

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for the choose violence ask game: 10, 16, 18!

HELLO BABY!!! sorry in advance since this is all about DAMEN DAMEN and DAMEN cause duh... ik it's not a trendy expression anymore but he really does live rent free in my head 💔

10. worst part of fanon

OH DEAR..... yk i'm trying really hard to not sound deranged and delusional but i feel like there are so many skewed interpretations of damen even though the books are literally from his pov. here are some of them:

a. "damen is an unreliable narrator" i've literally gone to battle with people over this take cause NO HE'S FUCKING NOT?? you say 'damen didn't see laurent's good qualities and was overly judgemental of veretians' i say damen not fucking with his captors who's been nothing but awful to him doesn't mean he was unreliable!! it wasn't like laurent was a golden angel and damen willingly hated on him for nothing. book 1 laurent treated him horribly and damen had every reason and right to not trust him or find him honorable.

b. "damen was a fuckboy who discarded the people he slept with the second he was done with them before laurent" breaking news: if someone sleeps with a lot of people that means he has no respect for them and is bound to treat them like shit! the lack of canon evindence doesn't matter!

(if the take is about damen not being in love with his partners before laurent then i'm on board!! it's the implication that damen was an inconsiderate sex partner that boggles my mind cause... did we read the same books?)

c. "damen is actually bad at sex" is a take/joke(?) i've seen MULTIPLE times and it never fails to make me think what a fucking stupid thing it is to say ❤️

d. "damen learned empathy from laurent" ????? lmao. anyways...

e. "damen was lazy and kastor picked up his slack" is everything ok with your eyes? when's the last time you've seen an ophthalmologist?

f. "theomedes neglected damen" damen literally spends page after page reminiscing about his father's words, advices and their last days together. he also says theo was the only parent he knew all his life and since someone needed to raise him to be this fascinating gentle giant... 1+1=3???

g. any interpretation where damen is some sort of neanderthal who is a selfish spoiled and clueless oaf who needs to be educated by girlypopboss laurent OR where he lets laurent walk all over him and has no agenda of his own. just... no.

16. you can't understand why so many people like this thing

any setting where laurent is downright cold and rude towards damen FOR NO APPARENT REASON and yet damen is still obsessed with him, again for some mysterious reason??? not to sound like some know-it-all condescending bitch (tho i suspect to some degree i'm already infamous and some ppl dislike me bc of it 🥺 oh well...) but i think most people forget damen only started giving laurent the time of his day once laurent started showing him basic deceny during pg. i really don't think he'd be interested in someone who rebuked him at every chance and showed no interest at him.

(some ppl give jokaste as an example to excuse this but damen only says jokaste wasn't easily courted aka she didn't immediately jump into his bed (which is admirable omg... i wouldn't be as strong...) he never said she aloof towards him)

18.it's absolutely criminal that the fandom has been sleeping on...

THE FACT DAMEN IS A HUGE NERD!!! seriously, who listens to FOUR HOURS of poetry in one sitting... we all tend to focus on his martial insterests but ik my boy is also a sophisticated man 💅

#TYSM FOR THIS ASK!! i sincerely apologize if i talked too much 🥹#also sorry for committing no doubt a ton of grammatical errors lmao #captive prince

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mariana-oconnor · 2 years ago

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The Naval Treaty pt 3

Yes, we apparently have got to the point where I'm memeing myself.

Right, last time, after Percy, Watson's old 'pal' from school failed magnificently at understanding how to protect confidential data, he followed an old woman into the night and the stress gave him a brain fever. Meanwhile, I'm still certain that Joseph Harrison, who has not been implicated in any way, is involved because I am a well-balanced and entirely reasonable person.

Mr. Joseph Harrison drove us down to the station

See! He's trying to get rid of you! 🤣🤣😂

“It's a very cheery thing to come into London by any of these lines which run high, and allow you to look down upon the houses like this.”

Last time we had Holmes looking out a train window: Ugh, look how terrible the countryside is! I can't bear it.

The contrast is palpable.

“The board-schools.” “Light-houses, my boy! Beacons of the future! Capsules with hundreds of bright little seeds in each, out of which will spring the wise, better England of the future. I suppose that man Phelps does not drink?”

Board schools are not the same as boarding schools, the internet tells me, but the first state run schools with no religious affiliation. I was about to be cynical about Holmes' view of children and Victorian educational standards, but I can't. He's right, those schools were important and really did pave the way for a brighter future.

And then a bit of mental whiplash as he snaps back to the case at hand, because he's Holmes.

In answer to the question, I can't say whether Percy drinks alcohol, but he definitely has a caffeine addiction that he should work on. If not for that, he wouldn't be in this mess.

Also, it was unreasonable of his uncle to expect him to copy so much text in a foreign language in one night. But even so, Percy needs to work harder on curbing his need for coffee.

"Then came the smash, and she stayed on to nurse her lover, while brother Joseph, finding himself pretty snug, stayed on too."

Oh, so he's just hanging around leeching off people, huh? Exactly as I suspected! This is just the beginning. Clearly, he's been a wrong'un all along and I will be vindicated.

"But to-day must be a day of inquiries.” “My practice—” I began. “Oh, if you find your own cases more interesting than mine—” said Holmes, with some asperity.

First of all, Watson does have a job, Holmes. I get that you want to play with him, but he does have responsibilities. You really shouldn't be bitchy about that.

Second, if Watson actually cares enough about his patients to ditch you, that would be the first time ever.

“I was going to say that my practice could get along very well for a day or two, since it is the slackest time in the year.”

See. No problem at all. Why would Watson ever do his actual job when he could be running around with Holmes? What a preposterous idea!

"...there is Lord Holdhurst.” “Lord Holdhurst!” “Well, it is just conceivable that a statesman might find himself in a position where he was not sorry to have such a document accidentally destroyed.” “Not a statesman with the honorable record of Lord Holdhurst?”

Oh Watson, my sweet summer child. Out there believing in unicorns and fairies and honourable politicians.

I discounted him because honestly, a political plot involving the politician uncle and corruption seemed too spy thriller. Also, the time frame of everything being nine weeks ago, I think discounts a political motive because if there were spy games going on, it would be far too late to do anything about it. Of course, it might be the case. These stories have surprised me a few times so far.

“£10 reward. The number of the cab which dropped a fare at or about the door of the Foreign Office in Charles Street at quarter to ten in the evening of May 23d. Apply 221b, Baker Street.”

The Bank of England inflation calculator tells me that's equivalent to approximately £1000 today, which is a pretty impressive reward for a little bit of information. Honestly, I'd expect people to be climbing out of the woodwork to say they saw Queen Victoria herself driving the cab and dropping off Jack the Ripper.

"Why yes, Mr Holmes, I saw a man with a long white beard and carrying a large sack. No, it was right odd, y'see: he didn't go in through the door. He climbed up on' roof and went down the chimney, that he did."

"And then, of course, there is the bell—which is the most distinctive feature of the case. Why should the bell ring?"

This is what I'm most interested in. What is up with that bell?

He sank back into the state of intense and silent thought from which he had emerged; but it seemed to me, accustomed as I was to his every mood, that some new possibility had dawned suddenly upon him.

Tell me! Tell me! I need to know. The bell is plaguing me.

a small, foxy man with a sharp but by no means amiable expression.

So Lestrade is a ferret and Forbes is a fox. Must all police officers be described as animals? This appears to be a pattern.

“You are ready enough to use all the information that the police can lay at your disposal, and then you try to finish the case yourself and bring discredit on them.” “On the contrary,” said Holmes, “out of my last fifty-three cases my name has only appeared in four, and the police have had all the credit in forty-nine. I don't blame you for not knowing this, for you are young and inexperienced, but if you wish to get on in your new duties you will work with me and not against me.” “I'd be very glad of a hint or two,” said the detective, changing his manner.

Forbes changes his tune pretty quickly here, so he seems open minded enough. Although it does seem a bit like he doesn't understand the purpose of Holmes. Yes, he's supposed to take all the evidence the police give him and try to solve the case. That's kind of how being a detective works. I get the emphasis here is on 'yourself', but still.

I like this exchange, because we've already seen in the stories that Holmes really doesn't care about the notoriety or the accolades - though he's more than willing to display gifts he's given in his own home - it's entirely the case and helping the people involved that he cares about.

Not sure he really needed to say that 'you are young and inexperienced' bit, though. Seems a tad direct.

“We have set one of our women on to her. Mrs. Tangey drinks, and our woman has been with her twice when she was well on, but she could get nothing out of her.”

OK, I thought it sounded unlikely that there were female police officers in the late 1800s, and it seems like the first female police officer in London was in 1919. But it definitely appears from this that they have women working for them - unless one of them has set his wife on a suspect, which... fair. Fascinating either way.

Also, Mrs Tangey has an alcohol problem, that could be an angle.

“What explanation did she give of having answered the bell when Mr. Phelps rang for the coffee?” “She said that he husband was very tired and she wished to relieve him.”

Alright, so it either was her, or she's involved in some way. Which I think we already suspected, but this clarifies that no one impersonated her without her knowledge, at least.

“Did you point out to her that you and Mr. Phelps, who started at least twenty minutes after he, got home before her?” “She explains that by the difference between a 'bus and a hansom.”

That's fair. Not everyone can afford their own taxi. Check your privilege, Holmes.

Standing on the rug between us, with his slight, tall figure, his sharp features, thoughtful face, and curling hair prematurely tinged with gray, he seemed to represent that not too common type, a nobleman who is in truth noble.

I may have rolled my eyes at this bit. Watson sometimes needs to back off on his earnest belief in the glory of England and its political and social systems. He's so classist it's actually painful at some points. Even if he's saying the type is 'not too common' it just makes me wrinkle my nose.

I also don't like Lord Holdhurst, but that's mainly because I believe hereditary nobility is immoral and also because he is a tory politician. There was never any hope of me liking him. I don't think he murders puppies, but I bet he'd pass legislation saying that murdering puppies is okay in certain circumstances if his old chum wanted to start a puppy murdering business and was a generous donor.

"I fear that the incident must have a very prejudicial effect upon his career.”

Yeah, that I do agree with.

“But if the document is found?” “Ah, that, of course, would be different.”

This, I do not agree with. Not after nine weeks, anyway. If it had been a couple of hours and the document was found to have fallen down the gap between the desk and the wall then he could probably just be given extra training and not allowed to touch confidential documentation without supervision for a few years. But it's been nine weeks. That treaty is lost. Even if it's returned, he still lost it for nine weeks.

“Did you ever mention to any one that it was your intention to give any one the treaty to be copied?” “Never.” “You are certain of that?” “Absolutely.”

OK. That cuts off that line of thinking, as Watson's insistence on him looking 'noble' clearly means we're supposed to believe him. But we already knew it wasn't him.

Because it's Joseph Harrison.

“If the treaty had reached, let us say, the French or Russian Foreign Office, you would expect to hear of it?” “I should,” said Lord Holdhurst, with a wry face.

Like I say, any political motivations would have been thoroughly completed by now, before Holmes was even called upon, so that's not likely.

“Of course, it is a possible supposition that the thief has had a sudden illness—” “An attack of brain-fever, for example?”

Given he called Holmes in, I sincerely doubt Percy's involved. Again, if this weren't a Sherlock Holmes story, there's a slim possibility it could be that his brain fever cause amnesia meaning that he doesn't remember taking the treaty and causing the whole problem, but that doesn't seem like a likely plot here.

“But he has a struggle to keep up his position. He is far from rich and has many calls. You noticed, of course, that his boots had been re-soled?"

OK so now we give him a motive, when you've all just gone on about how he's a 'fine fellow'? Are Lord Holdsworth's money problems going to be relevant to the plot? Maybe. We've heard nothing of Percy having any cousins, so as it stands he might be his uncle's heir. Not sure how that would lead to the treaty being stolen, but we'll bear it in mind.

Ah, and then Watson is racist again. Native Americans this time. These stories are really trying to spread the racism around, aren't they. This whole section is strange though, because it's about how Watson can't read Holmes' face, when multiple times (in this very story) he's said how he knows Holmes so well that he can instantly tell from his face what Holmes is thinking.

“God bless you for saying that!” cried Miss Harrison. “If we keep our courage and our patience the truth must come out.”

She and Watson should get together and have optimist meetings.

Although, it's definitely your brother, Miss Harrison. I don't know how, but it is. It's got to be. We're running out of suspects. Mrs Tangey seems like she might be involved, but I doubt she's the mastermind behind events.

Maybe Joseph just bribed her into trying to discredit Percy, she saw the paper and thought 'well this looks important' and took it not really knowing what it was.

But that doesn't explain the bell. Unless it's because she was drunk and she stumbled and grabbed it. Or she didn't really want to be doing it, so she pulled it in a weird attempt to get caught. Or she let Harrison in and then saw him stealing something and pulled the bell, only to be threatened if she said anything.

“Yes, we have had an adventure during the night, and one which might have proved to be a serious one.” His expression grew very grave as he spoke, and a look of something akin to fear sprang up in his eyes. “Do you know,” said he, “that I begin to believe that I am the unconscious centre of some monstrous conspiracy, and that my life is aimed at as well as my honor?”

He's probably right to be worried - maybe not for his life, but I'm pretty sure this entirely thing is aimed at him, not the treaty. But at the same time, this does not sound like the thinking of a mentally healthy person.

"A man was crouching at the window."

No. No, you see it could be him. Of course you're going to want to make it seem like it was someone from outside forcing their way in. To keep the suspicion off the people who live in the house. It has to be him. Has to be.

Did he have a knife, or was it just something that looked like a knife... like...

uh...

The thing he used to unlock the window?

"As it was, I rang the bell and roused the house. It took me some little time, for the bell rings in the kitchen and the servants all sleep upstairs. I shouted, however, and that brought Joseph down, and he roused the others."

Oh oh... convenient, being the first person on the scene, huh? Was that because you weren't in bed asleep at all? Mr Joseph Harrison?

(If I am by some miracle right about this, it will be entirely undeserved as literally the only reason I decided it was him is because he seemed too happy and his sister is getting married)

"There's a place, however, on the wooden fence which skirts the road which shows signs, they tell me, as if some one had got over, and had snapped the top of the rail in doing so."

Okay... well... well... that doesn't really fit with my theory at all, but maybe it's a coincidence. People climb over fences all the time. Maybe it happened ages ago. I bet they don't check the fences every day. Totally not a sign I'm wrong.

“Oh, yes, I should like a little sunshine. Joseph will come, too.”

Why?

No, seriously. Why? Percy says Joseph will come, but not his fiancee? That's weird. Is it because Joseph is stronger if Percy needs to be carried back?

"I should have thought those larger windows of the drawing-room and dining-room would have had more attractions for him.” “They are more visible from the road,” suggested Mr. Joseph Harrison.

And right here we have the classic Columbo moment. I know Sherlock Holmes came first, no need to send me angry messages. But this is something that happens in Every. Single. Columbo. It's part of his method, it's kind of his whole method. He makes a comment about 'I wonder why the murderer didn't do x' to the person he (and the audience) knows is the murderer and the villain, in an attempt to cover their own tracks, immediately presents an explanation.

“Do you think that was done last night? It looks rather old, does it not?” “Well, possibly so.”

Aw shucks, is Holmes not falling for your clever ruse? What a pity!

“Miss Harrison,” said Holmes, speaking with the utmost intensity of manner, “you must stay where you are all day. Let nothing prevent you from staying where you are all day. It is of the utmost importance.” “Certainly, if you wish it, Mr. Holmes,” said the girl in astonishment.

Not the weirdest thing Holmes has ever asked a person to do - still remember Watson pretzeling himself behind the headboard that one time - but still kinda weird. I hope she has some sort of enrichment in her enclosure. Tell me she has a bookcase at least.

“Why do you sit moping there, Annie?” cried her brother. “Come out into the sunshine!”

Look! LOOK! He's trying to get her out of the room. He hid the treaty in the room and now he's trying to get it back but he can't! All aboard the Joseph Harrison train, next stop: Vindication.

Got to assume that even though Joseph wasn't present when Holmes was speaking to Anne, or when he was speaking to Percy, he will be aware that Percy is not in the house. But he'll only be able to break into the room by the window again, so I guess that is the plan. To catch him red-handed.

#Letters from Watson #The Naval Treaty #Sherlock Holmes #long post #It's beginning to look like I'm right #But that's absolutely nothing to do with my problem solving ability and everything to do with my natural paranoia and distrust #Also ACD has a type #We saw it in The Copper Beeches and in The Greek Interpreter #Men who laugh too much and smile too easily

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coralinehecc · 2 years ago

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Corals Monthly Update #3

HOHOHO!! FIRST BLOG POST OF 2023 AND I’M NEARLY 2 WEEKS LATE!!! Super sorry about the long wait! I’ve had tests recently and only got off of school like a few days ago haha! So! Welcome back to my monthly update on what I get up to in my life! Now, before we get into January, I, for the final time, have to tap back into the previous month. Curse past me for thinking the 21st was a good day to start doing these!!! ANYHOW! The rest of December and early January were a BLAST! But lemmie talk about what happened after I made the last update. CHRISTMAS!! I had a great time with my family and I got a bunch of fluffy things cuz that’s apparently the easiest thing to get me now. We also had dinner on Christmas day with my Grandparents like every year. Over-all that day was very fun! I even got drunk playing Minecraft which was funny for everyone in VC. The next few days weren’t anything exciting, however my brother Finn had a bunch of his friends over for his birthday which was chaotic. But the excitement picks back up on the 28th! BECAUSE SKYE AND VI CAME OVER FOR NEW YEARS!! We’ve been planning this since like, June, so it was awesome seeing them again! We did all kinds of stuff from shopping to playing some awesome games! (I am now chronically addicted to Ultra Kill thanks guys)

We even did some baking! Here is our glorious creation I dubbed, “The Jimothy”.

Overall the rest of December was awesome! I’m glad I got to celebrate New Years with my besties! Overall, I’ll give it a 10/10! Best way to end 2022 >:D Here’s a few more misc photos hehehhehe

NOW! FOR JANUARY!! January started off still vibing with the guys. However they would then go home on the 4th which sucks. But before that, both Skye and I spent a lot of money on consoles that are almost as old as ourselves. They bought a fucking PS Vita and I got a motherfucking Wii. We both had fun with em and I even helped Skye homebrew their Vita since I wanted to put PebbleCD on it (I failed but shut uuup) But yea, sadly the guys had to go and it sucked! But I still had a great time. There’s a bit of a gap here right up until the 12th, where finally, the big event happened. CAREY IN THE HOUSE WENT LIVE!! I had finished it a few days prior but figured I’d build up hype by posting it on that Friday. AND IT SURE WORKED! The video blew up faster than any of my videos before it! I am so happy the response has been overwhelmingly positive. I also love how the only main complaint that was common amongst people was that Careys exaggerated accent was annoying which, yea can’t argue against. For anyone wishing for more CITH content, I did a behind the scenes mega thread over on my twitter if you wanna have a deeper look into the production! I’ll even link it here: https://twitter.com/Carey_Black_/status/1619731723352444928 Now, to move onto why it took me forever to make an update. My mock exams.. BUT BEFORE THAT!! THERE’S ALSO THE FACT THAT MR WULF AND I WERE ABLE TO ARCHIVE THE ORIGINAL EDDSWORLD BANG BOOM SPLAT PROJECT FILE!!

This all started because Wulf wanted to edit the credits for his arcade BBS build since I was helping him out and since I said SWF modding is hard he just casually asked Psycosis and after seeing his WIP cabinet, gave Wulf the FLA! So a current “BBS arcade version” is in the works by yours truly thanks to both the generosity of Psycosis and the fact that Mr Wulf is a fucking mad man who could stop global warming in a month if he wanted to LOL! Here’s Wulfs finished Cabinet btw!: https://twitter.com/MrWulfOfficial/status/1622295302685315073 But yea, for real. My mock exams were a pain! For those outside of Ireland or have a different name for em, Mock exams are, well, exams that act like a practice run for your finals. They’re always harder than the actual finals and are usually graded stricter too! Why? Who knows! The Irish education system is a joke. I feel like I did somewhat ok in them anyway? Some were definitely worse than others but overall it was more of an inconvenience. I did get this really cool art piece out of it however.

Exams would later spill over into February and like I said at the start, I finished and got off school a few days ago. Overall, this month was about a 7/10. It was pretty good, especially in the Eddsworld department, but mocks and other personal tid bits I didn’t mention here dragged it down for me. Since February seems to be mostly me being off school, I hope this month will be better haha! Only time will tell! Thank you for reading! And I hope to see you next month!! (Hopefully on time too haha!)

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gamebunny-advance · 2 years ago

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Probably the Last of my Thoughts

Pikmin 4 Spoilers

Actually, while I previously thought that Dingo either has special solo missions or that he collects things in 100% areas, I think some of his side dialogue actually implies that he might be a "free pass" for dandori challenges or that he might act as a helper in such levels. So what I'm thinking now is that if you keep failing the challenges, then he may offer to either clear them for a cost or he's an AI that gathers items on his own alongside you to make clearing the dandori challenges easier.

If that's the case, then I do hope there's still a great enough incentive to do them yourself. I support "easy-mode" accessibility options as long as there's still incentive to take the challenge on yourself. Either way, if this really is what he does, it seems like the game is going to value "completion" over "challenge" which is giving me Pikmin 3 vibes in a way I'm not certain about.

Also, I didn't realize until my latest run that you collect pieces of Shepherd's diary and logs from her predecessors. They're probably going to be the source of most of the lore, but since half of said lore is gonna be from her point of view, she may turn out to be a well-rounded character the same way Olimar was in the first and second game. Now I just wonder how many people besides me are going to care about it since she's not the player character.

I never really bonded to the Pikmin 3 leaders despite them having personalities, since their main goal (collect fruit) seemed so impersonal despite the urgency of their situation, and the comic relief moments never really landed for me. It's just not funny to me for Charlie to be the butt of every joke when he doesn't seem to really deserve it most of the time. Like, I get the set-up of having the great respected hero be kind of bumbling, but that only really works if you see them in their prime beforehand. So he just starts bumbling and disrespected and ends bumbling and disrespected.

It kinda felt like they were going the same route with Shepherd, with her apparently being an accomplished captain but only being found in compromising situations, but I think her diary is either gonna really help or hurt that. From extra dialogue from the rest of the rescue corps, they all seem to really respect her, and vice versa, and despite her current achievements, she, just like you and everybody else, have been thrust into a challenging situation that you're having to suddenly adapt to. There's probably even more riding on her, since she has a legacy to live up to, so I'm interested to see if that plays into her character at all.

I'll also say that I like hearing the extra dialogue about and from the other guys too. While they do seem like archetypes first, and characters second, the little bit of character I've already gotten has endeared me a little more to them than the aforementioned Pikmin 3 leaders. Maybe it's because their archetypes are already more "extreme" than, "nice plucky boy" and "bitch," so there's already more room to add subtle details about them in the side dialogue. For example, even Collin, who seems to be the generic "nice guy" like Alph, has a relatable backstory about working to fund his education. And there's Dingo, who despite going down Charlie's route of being the tough guy with fantasies of romance at the very least has a reason to have a crush on the captain where Charlie seemed to pursue Brittany just because girl.

I'm not saying any of this deep or innovative characterization, I'm just saying they're more likeable upfront than 3's leaders. It feels like they're actually a group that had some history together, vs. 3 where they were essentially strangers learning and failing to get along without any emotional payoff for that journey. Like, I can imagine these guys around a campfire and telling stories together into the night.

However, that's all on the side and isn't gonna make or break the game either way. You don't play Pikmin for the story or characters, you play Pikmin because the puzzle solving of trying to do everything as efficiently as possible is addictive. Pikmin has never been a social sim, so a good story/characters are just a bonus rather than a necessity. However, I also think that kid of thinking is part of why I find Pikmin 3 so unmemorable. Of course, the game being fun in itself is a great point, but if the game is too easy, and the characters aren't relatable, then I probably won't have any lasting memories of it.

But I'm pretty hopeful for this game.

#gbunny writes #pikmin 4 #spoilers #hopefully this'll be it for a little bit #i think i've got everything out of my system #now i just gotta wait a month for the game to actually come out #anyway i'm talking a lot of shit about the P3 fellas #but i don't hate them #i just don't like them more than the hocotatians who came before them #and i'm liking the new varied cast much more #the problem with P3's leaders is that the hidden depths to their characters are SUPER buried in the end of day notes #since the game is so easy #you're likely to always hit a story beat at the end of every day #so you're not gonna get the 'misc' diaries #like did you know that alph is into poetry and has several poems he can read at the end of the day?#i didn't until i read it on the wiki #things like that just don't come up in the main game most of the time #and since i didn't experience it myself #i just don't have high opinions of the P3 crew #the addition of the piklopedia in deluxe probably helped that a little #but i just couldn't bring myself to get that game twice #so i dunno if i'd feel differently if i'd played that version

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theweasleysredhair · 4 years ago

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In Safe Hands [G.W.]

Character: George Weasley

Word Count: 4339

Requested?: Yes/No

Summary: George is just very attractive and his hands are even more attractive.

WARNING: this is NSFW, 18+, smutty, sexy times, idk how else to say it. including oral (female receiving). also a lot of mentions of hands, arms and veins bc i canny control myself apparently.

Tags: @gracemayhateyou @acciotwinz @rexorangecouny @mischi3f-manag3d @obsessedwithrandomthings @whizbangs-78 @heart-of-tempered-steel @harrysweasleys @ickle-ronniekins @wand3ringr0s3 @theweirdsideofstuff | message or send an ask to be added to my smut taglist - you must be 18+!

Disclaimer: Gif isn't mine, credit to whoever made it

A/n: i put two requests for my event together as i decided to write a full fic based on george’s hands purely because prompt 9, which both requesters selected, refers to hands - enjoy!!

Prompts used:

3. “I may or may not have left some... marks.”

9. “God I love your hands.” “Let’s put them to good use then.”

23. “Didn’t know you wanted to get into my pants that badly.”

49. “Behave.”

~*~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK! REBLOGS ARE ABSOLUTELY FINE! <3

+ + + + +

You’d always liked George - why wouldn’t you? He was funny, charming, handsome. You’d be stupid not to. It had started back in Hogwarts - you were friends with the twins; close friends. And that’s all you thought of them as, until one fateful day in your 7th year where you made the regrettable decision to meet the twins after one of their last games of Quidditch before Umbridge had banned them, and George had emerged from the Gryffindor tent freshly showered, shirt hanging over his shoulder, trousers low on his hips.

And that’s when you’d realised you liked George as much more than just friends.

You hadn’t known how to deal with him at first, how to act around him, once you’d realised how you felt. Because every time he laughed, every time he ran a hand through his hair, you felt yourself positively swooning, as cliché as it sounded.

It took a lot not to accidentally blurt out your feelings to him, not that you were helped by Fred, who noticed the slight differences in your behaviour - holding onto hugs from George a tad longer, the way you looked at him when he didn’t realise, how flustered you got when he’d rest a hand on your knee - and made it his mission to make your feelings as obvious as possible in front of his brother.

George must’ve been the most oblivious person however, as he never noticed the hints or the longing smiles. Or maybe that was because he was busy trying to stop Fred from making his own crush on you so obvious, trying to hide his own longing smiles, and the way his eyes lit up when he made you laugh.

The twins had left Hogwarts soon after you’d realised your feelings, in a fit of fireworks, and then suddenly you were dealing with Umbridge alone, with her detentions alone. Not that you blamed them for leaving at all - you knew they were out living their dream and all you could wish to do was support them. It didn’t make being at Hogwarts any easier though, dealing with all the Educational Decrees. However, you thought the space and distance would help you to get over George, and it did.

Until you saw him again in his shop. The twins had sent you a letter in the middle of your NEWTs asking you to come and work for them, an offer that you gladly accepted, however arriving at their store on your first day - after the initial overwhelming feeling of pride at seeing how well their store was doing, how successful they were - you knew you weren’t at all over him.

He stood there, a smirk etched on his face, suit fitted to him as he crossed his arms over his chest, standing on the stairs in the shop as he looked down at you, and your felt your heart racing, cursing yourself over still being so hung up on the man.

His eyes slowly took in your appearance - you’d worn a cute sundress, due to the warm weather, your hair falling loosely around your shoulders and George felt his own heartbeat quicken.

He’d fancied you since his 6th year, most likely before that, the realisation hitting him when he had seen you dancing with some prat from Ravenclaw at the Yule Ball, when you should have gone with him. After that, after seeing how utterly stunning you’d looked that day, with your ballgown and hair done, he knew he’d never be able to look at you the same.

And even now, after not seeing you for months, you didn’t fail to leave him speechless, so effortlessly beautiful in his eyes that he couldn’t help but look at you as though you’d hung all the stars in the sky.

“Long time no see, eh love?” He spoke, moving down the last couple of steps and towards you, “Still gorgeous as ever.”

You grinned at him, “Always the charmer, eh Weasley?”

He chuckled, opening his arms to wrap them around you to bring you into a warm hug, one you gladly accepted as you wrapped your own arms around his waist, taking a deep breath as the familiar scent of his cologne enveloped you, making you grin. He rested his chin on your head and closed his eyes, smiling as he felt you nuzzle into his chest.

Merlin, he thought being away from you had lessened his feelings for you but in that moment, with you in his arms, he was struck with the same realisation he’d had in his 6th year - that he was in love with you.

And, unbeknownst to him, as your grip around him tightened a little, the hug lasting a tad too long to be friendly, however neither of you mentioning anything about it, you’d come to the same realisation.

Which brought you to now.

Being around George again was amazing, you had to admit. And whilst you hated the way you kept fumbling with products, or how clumsy you’d get around him - something Fred still loved to tease you about - you also adored how he made you feel, how happy, how content - he made your life that much better, a light in an ever increasing darkening world.

You’d been working with the twins for a few months, and it was amazing, truly a better job than you could have predicted. What made the job difficult, however, was trying to keep cool when George walked around looking like he did, interacting with the guests, making the children laugh at his jokes.

Godric, could he get any more attractive?

He’d seemed to up the ante this week, almost on purpose you swore, constantly walking around in just his shirt and tie due to the summer heat, the lack of a jacket meaning you were faced with doing your job and working with customers whilst also trying not to stare at the way his shirt fit snugly around him, or how his forearms were showcased due to him rolling his sleeve to his elbows, veins appearing any time he tended his arms, whether that be due to moving things around the shop, demonstrating how certain products worked, or lifting and moving heavy equipment.

The latter of which currently occurring, as Fred had left George alone to deal with a delivery after the shop had shut.

You were stood at the Pygmy Puff display, moving cages around and making sure they were well looked after when you heard some grunts coming from the store room, as if someone had picked up something with a lot of weight. You then heard footsteps behind you, making you pause with the last - feisty - Pygmy Puff in your hand, the rest having been put into their cages.

You turned around, breath hitching in your throat as you took in the sight before you. Namely, George Weasley holding what appeared to be quite a heavy box, if his staggered breathing was anything to go by. He’d shed his jacket somewhere in the back, along with his waistcoat, leaving him in just his shirt, which was tightly fitted and, you noticed as he placed the box down on top of another cardboard box, stuck to him a little with sweat from the heavy lifting. His sleeves were rolled to his elbows, showcasing his forearms, and you found yourself gulping as your eyes wandered down the prominent veins, to his large hands, one of which was pulled through his messy ginger hair, pushing the strands out of his face.

And he had no idea.

He had no idea at all that suddenly you couldn’t focus, that suddenly all the breath had left your lungs, that suddenly all you could think about was how his hands would feel on you, holding your waist, gripping your hips, squeezing your thighs. How his fingers would feel inside of you.

George looked over at you and shot you a grin, one that made your heart race even more than it already was, “Bloody big delivery today, eh? ‘S what happens when I let Fred order the ingredients.”

You gave him an almost starstruck smile, which he accepted gladly, before reaching up and undoing the top two buttons of his shirt, pulling at his tie to loosen it, your jaw dropping almost comically as you secretly watched him.

He noticed halfway through his action that you’d gotten extremely silent, your mouth open ever so slightly and George wondered if it was because of him. Merlin he hoped so, because if you wanted him as much as he wanted you, well, he’d be happy to take you right there and then against the till counter.

He turned away to disappear back into the stockroom, biting his lip as indecent thoughts filled his mind, heading to grab the next couple of boxes.

Back on the shop floor, you took a deep breath, rubbing your eyes and cursing yourself. You should not be stood ogling your best friend, much less your best friend who was also your boss, no matter how attractive he happened to be. You should be going through the boxes to separate ingredients out, helping with the displays and doing your job.

But no, instead you were stood, still holding the Pygmy Puff that was now trying to escape your hands, imagining all the things you wanted that man to do to you. And what you wanted to do to him.

Merlin.

You popped the Pygmy Puff into the cage, and wandered over to the box that George had just brought in, trying to push the thoughts of how you could see the outline of his abs through his shirt away as you began pulling out different ingredients.

He came back around the corner, holding two boxes this time, the top one covering most of his face due to the size, allowing you to stare longingly at the way his fingers were wrapped around the edges of the boxes, gripping tightly. You bit your lip as he turned from you to place the boxes down, watching as the shirt moved closely against his back, accentuating his shoulder blades as he bent down and Merlin did you wish you could see his muscles without the shirt.

“Need any help?” You managed to stutter out, trying to act as if you hadn’t been staring at him. Still bending over as he sorted out the boxes, he paused his actions and looked up at you, shooting you a cheeky grin. “Don’t you worry at all, love, I’ve got it, I am extremely strong after all,” he winked, and Godric, didn’t you know it, “You just stand there looking your best, that’s all the motivation I need.”

And suddenly you’d forgotten how to speak, how to breathe. You just nodded, though he didn’t see as his attention was back on the box in front of him. You watched him sift through the products, fingers moving nimbly, occasionally bringing out the odd jar or packet, sometimes throwing it in the air and catching it before placing it to one side.

He brought out a smaller box of vials, which he held from the top, placing it in front of you and gripping it tighter to emphasise his hands when he saw your gaze lingering.

He smiled to himself, pushing his sleeves up - making you swallow harshly - as he pretended not to know you were watching him, all the while flexing just for your benefit.

You couldn’t help the way your eyes kept drifting over to him, couldn’t help that watching him be so efficient with flipping glass jars in the air and holding different ingredients made you that much more attracted to him. You couldn’t help your thoughts racing, thinking about asking him to use his hands on you and-

“Godric, I love your hands.”

Your eyes widened in shock as his head turned to you, your own hand covering your mouth as you realised what you’d just said, and you began stammering out, “I-I... I didn’t mean- I- George-“

George gave a pretend look of shock, as if he hadn’t purposely been working you up for the last however-long. “You like my hands?” He asked with a smirk, glancing down at them before his gaze fell back on you, taking in the sight of you being so flustered. You got lost in the way his eyes held yours, and you could do nothing but nod slowly, making George bite his lip and step forward.

His heart was racing at your confession, not quite believing it was happening but very much wanting to do something with that information, “If you like them so much, let’s put them to good use.”

“W-what?”

George looked you up and down, his tongue darting out to wetten his bottom lip, “You like my hands, and I wanna use them on you, darling. You going to let me?”

You took in the way he was looking at you - like all his dreams had come true, like you were the only thing he cared about, like he loved you. “Absolutely,” you breathed out.

And suddenly his hands were on your waist, bringing you closer to him as he brushed his lips against yours, savouring the first few moments of you being so close to him, before kissing you properly. His lips were soft, moving against yours in a way that, had you not have known any different, you may have thought he’d been kissing you for years. It felt familiar, yet with an added layer of something new. A kiss that made your skin feel like it was on fire, that, as he angled his head to deepen it, made your stomach flutter, and mind race.

It was so perfect, even with the occasional bump of your noses - so perfectly George - that you didn’t want it to end. He pulled away a little, pressing more kisses to your lips before he began moving down to your neck, pressing open mouthed, hot kisses to your skin, making you let out small, breathy moans, feeling him smile against you.

You ran your hands down his chest, playing gently with the buttons and pulling his tie completely off, and heading towards his belt as he licked the skin just below your ear.

Beginning to unbuckle his belt, you also “accidentally” brushed against the evident tent in his pants, and he pulled away from you to grin, “Didn’t know you wanted to get into my pants that badly, love.”

You rolled your eyes playfully and bit your lip at him, making his heart beat a little faster, “Your fault for bringing that delivery in so attractively.”

You’d managed to unbuckle his belt and pulled him back in for a kiss, him mumbling against your lips, “Might get Fred to order stock more often then if this is what happens.”

He led you over to the stairs, stumbling a little up the bottom two steps before trapping you against the banister for a moment, holding you close to him as he continued to kiss you, his tongue easily gliding into your mouth.

Between kisses, and George pulling your shirt off, you made it to the apartment above the shop, heading down the hallway and bumping into the cabinet that was stood between the bathroom and Fred’s room, before arriving at his bedroom door, which he nudged open with his feet, bringing you inside.

He held you by the waist, fingertips tightening a little as he pulled away from the kiss for air, and to lift you up so he could throw you onto the bed, the impact making your breasts bounce and George breathed out a, “Fuck, c’mere.”

He crawled on top of you, your back arching into the mattress as your arms looped around his neck, playing with the tufts of ginger hair at the base of his neck as you brought him back in for another kiss. Your hands moved down to begin unbuttoning his shirt, something you’d been imagining all day, before throwing it to the other side of the room, George doing the same with your bra.

A few moments later, you’d both shed the rest of your clothes, leaving you bare against him, breasts pressed against his chest, his arms either side of your head, supporting his weight above you. You could feel his breath hitting your hitting your lips, his face centimetres from yours.

In stark contrast to the compromising position you were in, George looked down at you with love, a look that warmed your heart as you gave him a small, almost shy, smile.

“You know I- uh- I love you, right? I’m in love with you, darling.” He looked almost vulnerable as he said that, his eyes flickering across your face as his lips parted a little.

You lifted your head up so your forehead rested against his, hands clutching his shoulders, “I’m in love with you too, Georgie.”

“Me or my hands?” He joked, making you shake your head and laugh. You pretended to think for a moment before replying, “Maybe both.”

“Let’s see if I can make you come from just my hands then, shall we?” He grinned, making your heart race as his fingers danced down your stomach before pressing against your clit.

“So wet for me,” He commented, circling it slowly, smirking at the way you let out little breathy moans, before he entered a finger into you, taking advantage of the way your back arched in order to take one of your nipples into his mouth. He sucked on it, gently nibbling as he pushed his finger in and out of you, before adding a second finger, stretching you out a little.

“George,” you breathed out as he moved to your other breast.

He continued moving his fingers against you, in you, and you felt the familiar feeling of pleasure building in your stomach.

After being so wound up from watching him, you knew it wouldn’t take much more to reach your high, and as he continued to kiss your breasts, you breathed out slowly, almost embarrassed at how quickly he’d managed to turn you into a pile of mush at his touch.

“I’m close,” you whimpered, as George moved from your breasts to your collarbone, his thumb adding a little more pressure to your clit as his fingers moved.

Picking up his pace ever-so-slightly, he brought you closer to your high. He felt you clench around his fingers and pressed a kiss to your jawline. “Come for me princess,” he whispered against your ear in a low tone, making you shiver.

George watched the way you closed your eyes, mouth open and head tilted back as your high washed over you, pleasure running through you, and felt himself harden at the sight.

His fingers continued moving against you, although at a slower pace, and your hips jolted towards him at the overstimulation, “‘S a good girl.” He leant forward, pressing his body against yours as he kissed you gently.

“Think you can come for me again, love?”

You were breathing heavily from your first orgasm, though with the way his fingers were moving against you, you knew you’d be reaching your second before you could properly catch your breath. You nodded at him before he began trailing back down your stomach and settled himself between your legs.

You shivered as he lightly pressed kisses on the soft skin of your inner thigh, his hands squeezing your hips, before he licked into you, making you gasp out and clutch the bedsheets tightly. Letting out a moan as he pushed a finger back into you, you closed your eyes, head falling back against the headboard as you breathed out heavily from the way his tongue was moving against you.

You bucked your hips against him involuntarily, causing his free hand to push your hips back down and he looked up from between your legs, his eyes catching yours as he smirked against you, “Behave, darling.” You moaned as the vibrations of just those two words travelled through you, the hand not enclosed around his heading towards his messy hair and running through it, pulling at strands as you felt his tongue flatten against you.

Feeling your second orgasm creeping up on you, you wrapped your legs around his head and let out a moan as you felt George groan against you. Your second high felt more intense than the first, and the feel of George’s tongue pushing inside you made you moan out loudly, the feeling taking over you before you relaxed against him, legs falling onto his shoulders.

“You look so pretty when you come,” he grinned, moving back to hover over you. He pressed himself against you, rocking his hips against yours, arm muscles tensing as he held himself up over you.

You whined a little at the feel of him moving against your sensitive clit, making him smile.

“You ready for me, princess?”

You wrapped one hand around the back of his neck, the other reaching for his hand to intertwine your fingers together, “Always, Georgie.”

At your go-ahead, he pressed a kiss to your lips and eased himself into you, making you both moan out. “You feel so good wrapped around me, love,” he praised as he pulled out of you before pushing back in again, “Taking me so well.”

He moved against you, skin brushing against skin, his spare hand moving to touch any place he could, running his fingers down the curves of your body, before biting his lip as he pulled his hand from yours to grab your wrist, taking your other one from around his neck and holding them above your head, making you whimper as his arms flexed.

“Do you like what my hands can do to you, love? How I made you come from nothing but my fingers?” He groaned against you, feeling himself edging towards his own high.

“Yes... yes!” You breathed out, your eyes closing as you felt your high arriving fast, “George you feel so good.”

George groaned again, feeling you clenching around his cock in the same way you did around his fingers. He leant forward to kiss you, still holding your arms above your head and suddenly pleasure coursed through your body, and you sighed against his lips, him twitching and coming inside of you soon after with a deep growl.

He fell against your shoulder, pulling himself out of you before laying beside you, letting go of your wrists as you instinctively curled towards him.

George’s eyes wandered over to you, a smile small playing at his lips, taking in the way your hair was falling across his pillow, your eyes shut as you breathed heavily, eyelashes fanning across your cheeks, your hand resting on one of his biceps.

His gaze travelled across your neck and down to your collarbones, then across your breasts, a smug smile gracing his face. You opened your own eyes, catching his shit-eating grin and raised an eyebrow at him wearily, “What’s that look for?”

“I may or may not have left some... marks,” he replied cheekily, biting his lip, pupils blown wide as he took in the sight of you marked by him, pressed up next to him.

Your jaw dropped a little and you shook your head with a laugh, “Oh bloody hell, Georgie!” You stood up quickly and headed to the mirror across the room to check, fighting the urge to both laugh and smack him when you saw the red and purple marks littering your skin.

George sat back on the bed, eyes raking over your body, enjoying the sight of your bare bum and back, and found himself biting his lip and imagining all the things he wanted to do to you that night. His eyes lingered on the curve of your bum and he fought the urge to grab you again and pull you down onto him.

“I like them on you, they look hot,” George said with a grin, and you playfully glared at him in the mirror.

“You would think that.” Turning back around to him, you just missed the way his gaze flickered to the marks on your breasts and up to your neck, George feeling extremely proud of himself and his work.

“Yeah, it just shows people you’re mine I guess,” he shrugged unapologetically and gave you a smug grin, looking you up and down as you walked back over to him.

“Oh I’m yours, am I?” You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest and unintentionally accentuating your breasts to him, making him let out a groan as he reached for you.

“Of course you are.”

He pulled you back down onto him like he’d imagined before, your bare chest against his own, his large hands holding your waist as your nails gently scraped down his arms.

“Fancy a round two?” He asked, one of his hands already beginning to head back towards your clit.

Your eyes closed as you sighed contently as you felt his fingers press against you, enjoying the feel of him, “I could be convinced.”

As you were straddling him, you felt him harden more than he was against you, and you opened your eyes to meet his own, darkened with lust, his fingers still moving against you as his other hand gripped your hip.

“Oh princess, how about I make you come for a fourth time tonight? And then again. And then again. And again after that. Would that convince you?”

You bit your lip, pushing yourself against his hand and grinned at him, “I reckon it would. Or maybe I’ll just ride you instead.”

He picked up the pace of his fingers against you, and you let out a moan from above him as one of your own hands covered his on your hip, making him smile cheekily at you,

“Ride me then, darling, and then I’ll make sure you can’t walk in the morning.”

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley smut #george weasley imagine #george weasley imagines #4.6k follower drabble event #hp #harry potter #all queue have to do is follow the spiders

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lizadale · 2 years ago

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Miss, since apparently it's the gremlin's birthday, here's the tale of when I tried to make him in ts3 before moving on to make the puppy.

So I play in a version with all the expansions of the game, yeah including Katy Parry's (i like the windows that are in it). One of the expansions is the Supernatural one which introduces Vampires, zombies, witches, werewolves, and fairies.

Now, which of these creatures you would choose for Dimentio to be? The most fitting answer is a fairy.

The fae is the only kind of creature that floats around and has an extended life span that isn't undead like zombies or vampires. (It also has limited magic with nasty side effects when it gets low, but this trait is shared with the witches) so, besides the wings, it kind of fits him well.

So I make the sim (make him grumpy, shy, irresistible, bookworm and hydrophobic) randomise the zodiac three times for luck, decide to make his placeholder lifetime wish of being a writer and place him in the world to research how to make him not age. Everything looked alright up until that point.

But I must have done something wrong because I'm not even 3 mins in and, for some unknown reason, he wants to join the educational Career, being a teacher and stuff. I got him to the job because even if it is out of character, bad things happen to my saves when I ignore a sim's first wish.

Then I saw how to make him not age without killing him or transforming him into a vampire. That being using the lifetime reward age-freeze potion, it needs Dimentio to be happy enough to get 80.000 happiness points.

Getting that in-game is very hard, like, the most happiness points you can get is 15000 by completing his lifetime wish, you can do that only once, and the second most is 3000 by completing a wish. I didn't (still don't) have any idea on how to cheat my way to get these points, I would need to get it as he gets older and then get the youth potion for him to look right.

Because I don't have the time to do that, I decided to change his name to Fail mentos and played one more week before closing his save for good.

I didn't mean for it to get this long, sorry.

i cannot

so basically: "i need to keep dimentio as happy as possible on this file, but ain't nobody got time for that"

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mighty-ragnarssons · 4 years ago

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Knocked Up | Modern Vikings AU | Chapter I

Relationships | Modern Ivar x OC Summary | Ivar always thought he'd be one of those people that never find the love of their lives. But then he found her - or, as the story goes, she bumped into him. He never saw it coming. Then he had to deal with it, and all the consequences that came along. Warnings | some smut, a little angst, harassement, teenage pregnancy

You can read in AO3 as well (click here).

Chapter 1

There was no one in town that didn’t know about the Ragnarssons, the children of the famous Ragnar Lothbrok. They were fearless, they were reckless, and they were dangerous, just like their father. That’s what everybody said.

Bjorn was the eldest, the first-born of Ragnar’s first marriage with Lagertha. There had been a daughter too, Gyda, but she had passed away terribly young. After that, Ragnar had only sons born from his second marriage, this time with Aslaug. First came Ubbe, then Hvitserk and Sigurd. All of them perfectly healthy and strong boys that, much like Bjorn and to Ragnar’s amusement, took after their father in several ways. Unexpectedly and accidentally, however, there was a fifth child, the last son of Ragnar, Ivar.

Ivar was very different from his brothers.

Born with a bone condition, he was crippled from the start. It was not just his legs that wouldn’t allow him to ever walk on his own, but a whole lot more pain coming from his frail bones that were never to be trusted. No wonder he grew up as a vulnerable, angry, and sad kid, despite being his mother’s favorite and most protected son. And now, as he was becoming a man, people called him mad and a drunk, a wild card with whom everyone rather stay away from. Ivar didn’t mind, he preferred to be tamed than to be pitied after a lifetime of being looked down on. In fact, he would do everything in his power to remain like this. It was the only way to prove himself and stay out of his brothers’ shadow and, most importantly, his father’s to who Ivar was the least favored son, something which hurt the boy more deeply than his constant physical pain.

“Hurry up, Ivar. Crawl faster, or else when we get to the club Ubbe and Hvitserk will have gotten all the best girls” Sigurd’s voice echoed loudly through the house.

Ivar was there a second later clearly annoyed at his brother’s mocking tone. “Last time I checked, dear brother, you need me to drive you. So shut up. Let’s go.”

Sigurd couldn’t argue back. He did need Ivar to drive them to the club. He kept failing at taking his driver’s license. It was humiliating to have to need his crippled brother to drive him, but Ubbe and Hvistserk, the bastards, hadn’t been home. Minutes afterward Ivar was behind the wheel of his accessible SUV and off they were.

Thirty minutes later they were skipping the line to get into the club. The Ragnarssons had their ways. If there was one circuit in which their name was known by everyone, it was the nightlife one. No party would ever start without one of them being there. Ivar and Sigurd joined Ubbe and Hvisterk in the VIP area. As usual, Ivar took a corner where he knew he’d spend the next few hours drinking, smoking, and glaring at the dancing crowd. Perhaps if someone caught his eye he’d make a move, but usually, it was more like his brothers to do that.

“There you go” Hvitzerk handed him a joint “Don’t look so serious, Ivar. The night is young. Enjoy!” By the looks of it, it was clear that he was already a bit high. But again it was Hvitserk and unusual would be to find him sober. “A lot of pretty ladies out there. Want me to pick one for you?”

Ivar knew Hivtserk was only joking, but he still didn’t like it. His brother, ignoring Ivar’s cold glare and much to his annoyance, started pointing out to random girls who were dancing. “Oh, look at that one. C’mon Ivar, ain’t she a treat to stare at?”

Thankfully, Hivtserk stopped his stupid game once their oldest brother Bjorn joined them, bringing shots to everyone with the help of his wife, Torvi.

“Brother, to what do we owe the honor?” Ivar said, throwing one of his ironic smirks.

“I bring good news. Father is going to be released from jail sooner than expected. In three months to be exact! I had to pull some strings but it’s settled”

The news was received with different reactions. Sigurd didn’t seem that happy, while Ivar was the opposite. Ubbe was the first one to hold one of the shot glasses and started the toast “To Father! To Ragnar!”

Ragnar had been in prison for almost three years due to white-collar crimes, having been convicted of corporate fraud and money laundering. His sentence would’ve been of more than ten years, but Ragnar had his ways and was able to cut a deal for five years. And now, apparently, he would only serve almost four. Throughout this time it had been Bjorn taking over the leadership of the family’s successful business, Northmen Ventures, of which all of Ragnar’s sons had become the sole shareholders just before he was imprisoned. This explained why they were one of the richest families in their Norwegian city of Bergen.

Bjorn, now age 30, had been the natural successor of Ragnar. Not only because he was the oldest and perhaps the favorite son of Ragnar, but also because at the time he was the only one with a university degree, having just graduated from Law School. Yet, all of Ragnar’s sons were meant to get involved with the business. At least that was their father’s wish. Ubbe, now 24, had just graduated from Architecture School but had recently joined Bjorn on the company’s executive board. Ivar wasn’t given the opportunity to help out, something which he grudged his older brothers - for dismissing him for his age, despite the fact that he’d watch and learned as much from his father as possible since an early age. Now 19 he was a freshman in college taking Business Administration. Then there were Hvitserk, 23, and Sigurd, 21, the ones more adamant about following in their father’s footsteps. Hvitserk was using the money they were all getting to sustain his pricy bachelor lifestyle, and so was Sigurd who dedicated most of his time to art and music. Neither tried to pursue a higher education degree.

“Don’t get too excited. Father will be back and then what? It’s not like he cares about us.” Sigurd, the mood killer, chugged his beer aggressively “He didn’t let us visit him in prison not even once. Not even Mother was allowed to. He didn’t even care for sending a postcard for Christmas!”

“He must have had his reasons.”

“And he left us the company”

“And so what? He just wanted to prevent it from ending up in the hands of the government. Fuck him! You might all want to play the role of doting sons, but I’m not gonna tag along” After this Sigurd stormed off.

The remaining brothers looked at one another. A little bit of what Sigurd had just said resounsed with them, but at the same time they were excited to welcome back their father. Things would be very different with him around.

“I say we celebrate.” Ivar said, not minding Sigurd. He couldn’t wait for his father to be back so that he could prove himself once and for all. He was no longer the defenseless crippled child he was when Ragnar went away.

Despite the good mood he was in about Bjorn’s good news, Ivar wasn’t vibing with the club’s atmosphere that night. Hvitserk and Ubbe were making out with some random girls, Sigurd was nowhere to be seen and Torvi and Bjorn had left already. Instead, he was craving for some adrenaline and he knew just the way to get it. Texting his dealer, he left the club with the help of his crutches.

Nothing was to stop him except that on the way out someone bumped into him almost causing him to lose his fragile balance. Fury grew on Ivar who was about to yell at whoever made the mistake of infuriating him that night, but that’s when her face lost the blurriness of a few seconds ago and Ivar lost his balance again but for a completely different reason.

“Oh, no. I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to...shit”

“Bitch, get back! For the hundredth time, you’re not getting in!”

The girl’s expression quickly turned one of desperation. “I told you I have to. My cousin needs help! Don’t stop me, please” Her words were towards the bouncer that was now pulling her back, but her pleading eyes were on Ivar as if asking for help.

“Hey, let her go!” Ivar didn’t know why, but his rage got up to new levels when he saw the bouncer getting his filthy hands on her. “I said back off. Take your fucking hands off of her.”

At Ivar’s command the bouncer let her go. It didn’t matter that he was a big muscle guy, Ivar took a step towards him and faced him with a cold death stare.

“She’s coming in with me, do you understand?”

“Ragnarsson, she is a minor. I can’t let her in.”

“I’m not asking.”

His tone set it. He nodded so that the girl got in the club ahead of him. She didn’t even say a word, going immediately in. Ivar had to hurry himself inside to catch up.

“Fuck, there’s so many people” she noticed looking absolutely lost.

“Let me help you.” he offered.

“The bathrooms. My cousin... she called me, she didn’t sound fine… I’m worried something’s happened... She said she couldn’t move” she was trembling as she spoke. Ivar reached her hand with his.

“If she is here we are going to find her.” he assured her “Follow me”

It was not typical of Ivar to help a lady in distress but as he was guiding this girl through the crowd of drunk dancing people he couldn’t understand the need he was abruptly feeling for shielding her and, worst of all, to comfort her. These feelings left him uneased, but he was not going to dwell into that right now. If his suspicions were right and her cousin was somewhere in the club, then she was probably drugged to the point of unconsciousness and in a position to be taken advantage of.

They swiped all the bathrooms at the club until at last they burst into one where a girl was noticeably knocked down in a corner.

“Cathrine!” the girl immediately crouched down on her cousin. “Cathrine, can you hear me?”

“All of you, get out” Ivar demanded the girls who were inside. Some tried to complain, after all he was the guy in a female bathroom. These same girls that had paid no attention, or they just didn’t care, to the other girl on the floor. He then went outside as fast as he could and got a water bottle.

“She’s awake, but barely. Says she 's dizzy. She’s not talking right”

“She was likely drugged” It wouldn’t be a first in that club “Make her sip some water” he threw the water bottle at them. He really wanted to level down to them, but with his crutches and all it just wouldn’t go well. “I’m gonna find help.”

He ‘raced’ to the VIP area. Only Hivtserk was there with a girl on top of him. What was wrong with his brothers for acting as if their corner was a place of public foreplay display?

“Hvitserk, I need your help!”

“Go away Ivar” he grumbled and continued to suggestively run his hands on the brunette over his lap.

Ivar had to take the matter into his hands. The first thing he found was a leftover cocktail on the table which he threw at the girl. Her immediate squeak was so high and audible despite the deafening music. She practically jumped from on top of his brother.

“You crazy motherfucker!”

“What the fuck Ivar?”

“I don’t have time to explain. Come with me. I need your help.”

Usually he didn't have much faith in his brothers - after all they were a pain in his ass most of the time - but this time he was really hoping to call on Hvitserk’s good senses. Fortunately his prayers were answered and his older brother followed him back to the bathroom

“What’s going on?”

“There’s a passed out girl. We need to get her out of here.”

“Would you go so far as in to get laid, little brother? Oh, you sicko”

“This is not the time for jokes, asshole. You’re the sicko for even suggesting that”

Ivar was almost regretting getting Hvitserk to help, but the truth was that he alone wouldn’t be able to carry the girl out from the bathroom. The moment they got in there Hvitserk got a bit more serious and kneeled next to the two girls.

“Let’s get her out of here”

Together with Hvitserk, the girl helped raise her semi-unconscious cousin. People inside the club were so fucked up that they didn’t drop one second to look at them leaving.

“Take her to my car” Ivar indicated and so they did. He unlocked his metallic grey SUV from afar and went on to open the backdoors where they laid the girl. “Let her get some fresh hair. It will do her good.”

“Should we take her to the hospital?” Hvitserk suggested.

A loud “No!” came from the inside of the car.

“She can’t. It will be too complicated” said the other girl but not without hinting her dissatisfaction.

Ivar finally took a moment to fully look at her. Dressed in just a pair of jeans and a warm sweatshirt, she was lean and tall, but at least a good ten centimeters shorter than himself. Her blonde hair was tied in a messy bun with some strands falling down on her face. He had to hold the instinct to gently brush those aside. And her eyes… They were a very greyish blue color like he had never seen before. They were mirroring worry and nervousness.

“I’m calling a cab. Thank you for your help. I don’t know what I would’ve done if it weren’t for you” she said facing Ivar and Ivar only.

“I can drive you.” he offered without thinking.

“We already bothered you enough -”

Ivar cut her off “Nonsense. I’m going to drive you” he declares in a way that offered no other option.

Relief poured from her gaze “Thank you”

It was quite the drive, further out of Bergen’s city center. By the time they got there the passed out girl - Cathrine - had regained consciousness, albeit feeling nauseous and dizzy. Hvitserk carried her alone in his arms to the inside of the house and further into her bed. It was time enough for her to fall asleep like a rock.

“She seems just to need some rest. Keep her hydrated when she wakes up.”

“If she was drugged then it should wear off her system soon”

“Noted. I don’t know how to thank you both”

“You could go on a date with one of us, how does that sound?”

“Hvitserk!” Ivar admonished in reaction to the girl’s shocked expression “Please, ignore my brother. He, too, has drugs that need to wear off his system”

“You’re no fun, Ivar” Hvitserk couldn’t argue back on the drugs part. “A pleasure to help, milady. Until next time” He did a silly bow and left the apartment back to the car.

“Is he always like that?”

“Most of the time, yeah.” Ivar shrugged his shoulders “Hand me your phone” Because she did without complaining, he got it and put his number in there “I’m Ivar Lothbrook. Whenever you need help.”

What he really wanted to say was ‘text me’. He didn’t have the nerve for that, tho.

For the first time that night she finally showed a glimpse of a smile “Honestly, thank you. I don’t know what I would’ve done without your help, Ivar Lothbrok”

Her hand was touching his and for a moment everything seemed to stop. The way his name sounded on her lips… A shiver went down his spine. He wanted to hear it again, but most importantly he wanted to know her name.

But in that exact moment a horn yelled. Goddamned Hvitserk. He was going to wake up the whole street, which was the opposite of what the girls had asked. “I better go drive him home now or else he’ll wake up the whole neighborhood”

Yet Ivar was finding it difficult to leave. To leave her. Another honk made him take the necessary steps.

“I mean it when I say for you to use my number whenever. Stay safe”

He finally closed the door behind him and walked back to the car, but not before looking over his shoulder. There she was, by the window, waving goodbye with a shy smile on her face.

He needed to see her again.

The next morning Ivar woke up rather hopeful of seeing a text message. Seeing there was none, his day didn’t kick off exactly on the right terms. Throughout the day he checked his phone more times than he cared to admit and each time he grew impatient and irritated. What was it about that girl to make him like this? It’s not like he usually gave a crap about whoever he met.

“What’s wrong with you? You’ve got a right cob-on” his older brother Ubbe asked later that day when they were all chilling by the firepit in the backyard of the Lothbrook’s home.

Although in Norway it was uncommon for people their age to still be living at home, in their case that’s how things were and worked out great most days. Usually it was just the four brothers and the house was big enough for them not to be in each other’s ways.. Their mother, Aslaug Lothbrok, ran one the country’s finest art galleries. After her husband’s arrest she had moved her gallery to the capital city, Oslo, instead of their home city. Lately she spent most of her time there rather than at home.

“It’s nothing. Leave me alone”

“He’s hung up” teased Hvitserk “Still thinking about the pretty blondie from last night, brother?”

Right that moment Ivar wished he could smack the mocking smiles out of his brother’s faces.

“Well, well, well Ivar. Didn’t know you had company last night.”

“He didn’t. Not exactly. None of us did” Hvitserk proceed to put Ubbe on the loop in regards to their little episode last night. “Instead of asking her for her number, our little brother gave her his. Wrong move, dude.” Ivar immediately regretted telling this to Hvitserk. “Don’t be so bummed out, Ivar. There’s plenty of fish in the sea. Speaking of…”

A blonde Ivar doesn’t care much about exits their home in Sigurd’s company, both appearing content which can only mean one thing. Margrethe is a constant guest at the Lothbrok’s and probably the only female with the fame of being acquainted with all of the brothers’ rooms. Although a favorite among the Ragnarssons, to Ivar she’s nothing but an unpleasant company he is forced to tolerate after they fall out months ago.

“If that’s the fish you’re hinting at, I’d rather go vegan” Ivar mumbled under his breath.

I hope you liked it! It’s my first Vikings fic :) Sorry for any mistakes, English is not my native language. At least five more chapters will be on the way.

#knocked-up-fic #vikings fic #vikings fanfiction #vikings fanfic #modern vikings #modern vikings au #modern ivar #modern ivar au #ivar #ivar the boneless #ivar x oc #ivar x original female character #ivar ragnarsson #ragnarssons #my fiction #ivar lothbrok #knocked up fic

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supercorp-hosie · 4 years ago

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My thoughts for Legacies 314:

1) Clarke!!! I like his air of cockiness when he do all this things, and especially when Hope break this air😂😂😂 I think since the show is constantly letting him show up like this, maybe at some point he will eventually turn up or be brought back by my Sowanby team? Oh my Holarke heart! I just love their dynamic like how I’m entertained by Lizdon dynamics🤣🤣

2) I still see that artifact that was broken because of Landon unnecessary move, why? I thought the arc was over? It’s just hilarious when Clark tried so hard to break it, even using explosives, but Landon just break it by throwing it to the monster😂 these brothers, I can’t 😂 (I know it’s because of the presence of Cleo, but still, funny!)

3) Okay, the way Hope just ended up with Wade, doing a drama about undying teenage love, I can’t imagine 🤣🤣 sorry Hope, but Wade can be a good teammate. And Wade has a last name - Rivers! Congrats! Poor Jed, another person that’s appear later than him and got a last name.

4) I just inevitably thought about the other witch Gaby, and relates back to Penelope😆. What if Penelope comes back and starts a war with Finch, that would be fun🤣 I can imagine they somehow would have to work together to protect Josie if something happens to her. They can look past that because they both care for Josie so much. Penelope/Josie/Finch anyone? (I’m secretly shipping Penelope and Finch too in my head, OMG can you imagine the volcano erupting? Enemies to lovers trope??)

5) Finally SBS has a teacher other than Alaric now.

6) I do think that the compelling works. Anyway, considering what’s going to happen, I’m certain that somehow Ethan is going to remember what happened with MG. If he’s going to be a supernatural, I’m rooting for vampire. We are really lacking vampires here.

7) I love Hope’s magical surges♥️ and how other students is taking that like it’s a normal thing around them. Unlike the school tour.

8) I love Hope needn’t to turn around to know that it’s Josie right away♥️ and Josie do catch up things around Hope when she’s not around after she returns.

9) Josie lied to Hope that Lizzie needs help(even though it turns out to be true doesn’t mean she didn’t lie), to help Hope with her mental state. Is this toxic or supportive?? Maybe I should just count it separately?

10) The twins clothes!! Contrast colours, love them!

11) I wonder who drove there....Hope didn’t have a dl in s1 (but two years has past now?) while in 307, Josie apparently walked to Mystic Grill to find Finch(but Lizzie did drive before in s2)....so? I bet it’s Hope...but how the hell did they even have time for driving education?

12) Hope, looking at Josie: like I said, trap. 😂😂but she just doesn’t even get mad at Josie?? Exactly how many times did she let Josie escape like that?? Poor Landon got grilled when he lied😂

13) We don’t worry about dick here🤣🤣🤣🤣

14) I love Finch just confidently stand up for herself, challenging Jed. But no, I don’t like Jed being thrown down by a new wolf again. But having female alpha is appealing too, I love to see that when Finch challenge the old system, then get to improve the abusive hierarchy towards the omega/new wolf in the pack. I was conflicted. I love how they resolved the issue in the end! It’s win-win situation and I love how Jed and Finch bond! Brotp/Sistp! And I love that from Finch perspective, we can see that the wolves let Jed win because they love Jed as much because they know Jed cares about them a lot and just willing to let him win. Not because Jed was oppressing them.

15) Btw, I can’t believe they are using pool/billiards/snooker to decide who becomes the alpha. Really I just don’t like how it works, like leading a pack is a game. But some wolves are born alpha. In real life, a pack’s alpha is always the one to lead hunting, be vigilant of any threat that can harm the pack, they really care for their packs, like Jed. Whilst there’s this beta position in the pack, they recognise the alpha’s leadership, help the alpha keeping others in line, help take care of other members too. Just like what I’d imagined, Finch can fit the beta position very well, for the time being, because of their dynamics. I’m not saying that Finch doesn’t fit as alpha, I think that beta always has the potential to be the alpha of a pack. I just love that now the dynamics in the pack somehow really resembles how the social hierarchy of a pack of wolves in real life.

16) appreciation to Finch being badass at pool/snooker/billiards

17) when Andy just called Hope’s name, why don’t the trio be surprised? It’s not like they even meet before?

18) when MG showed up, I just immediately believe in him. Love that Alaric defended him. I understand Dorian though, he’s always sensitive of rippers as his family was butchered by one. Please don’t blame him too much. MG living in a cave breaks my heart, I just recalled that Hope was homeless when she’s out of Malivore too! Double heart breaks.

19) MG diaries! I’m so proud of him, even Alaric validates his effort and his kind heart! I just rewatched 106 last night to do some fact checking for my hosie interactions 2.0 and twins relationships 1.0. MG has always wanted to be a superhero that saves lives. He has grown so much, from first fighting zombies, to super squad fighting monster, until now, saving normal people lives. I bet now Penelope can’t laugh at him when he first pitched his feelings to Penelope. Good job!

20) I’ve talked about the Finsie sitting together, so I only want to talk about how the relationship between Finsie is healthy for one another (for now, and at least they are not cringy for these two episode).They function independently and Finch doesn’t need to constantly worry about Josie all the time, like what Penelope fear of. Ofc it may also because that the twins have grown healthier.

21) even though Hosie were mind controlled, I just love how they have unspoken understanding between each other😂 Josie doesn’t need to tell Hope to make Lizzie stay with them to have Hope “as sonnum” Lizzie. Then only Josie said “stay with us”.

22) Hizzie hugs, and HOPE ANDREA MIKAELSON 🤣

23) I just love how Lizzie knows what to say to break Josie’s peace, while Josie knows how to break Hope’s peace. I see another spoken parallel from 308 about blindspot😂 Lizzie -> Josie -> Hope.

24) so if the drug sometimes doesn’t work on Lizzie, that means that there are times that Lizzie is really blue! Really at peace! I’m so proud and happy for her! Go Lizzie!

25) “ALL I WANTED FOR YOU IS YOUR HAPPINESS” this is so powerful! My Hosie heart! And really the last painful sentence, is fact. I’m sad for Hope because she’s so into that relationship until she can’t bring herself to do it and only leads to Landon leaving, but it’s also classic Mikaelsons(I feel), never giving up for their love ones. Appreciation to Landon, but still it’s strike three for leaving, please don’t let them be together again. It’s derogatory to Hope’s self-esteem.

26) I love badass Hope so much!! All the bodies she left! If I’m not already gay, she would have bent me into a mosquito coil by that scene, (so bent that I can’t be straight anymore). I love how Josie just let Hope outing her anger on these witches, freeze Andy, waited patiently for Lizzie and Hope to deal with Andy together.

27) I died laughing at these Pandemonium 🤣🤣🤣🤣 the badass trio in panda suit😂😂😂😂 I can’t! They’re so cute! And the height difference🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

28) How Hope tries to focus and dead serious in dealing with the upcoming monster but fails inevitably and miserably at Josie’s antics! All Josie does is laughing cutely at Hope and poking(?) her.

29) I love the trio so much!

30) haven’t watched any Star Wars, so I really thought that the one in the mask was Clarke until the Star Wars theme song started😫 too bad that Landon must have missed it.

31) Lizzie kissing Ethan is the last thing ever to have crossed my mind, so again, what the fuck?(sorry, language)

32) when I first thought about team building, I was thinking about finch + MG + Jed + Kaleb, but pack bonding, I’m satisfied too.

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iampikachuhearmeroar · 3 years ago

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yknow while this hellsite continues on the whole religion discussion thing, i’d like to jump in on it with my experience particularly with leaving catholic school.

like aside from my angsty pop-punk/emo etc teen phase (which’ll obvs be weaved into story later on) that led me to have different views from the church and aside from the whole sexism thing that i endured over my year 10 formal/junior prom in 2010 and 2011 from staff there….. i found it within myself incredibly hard to leave there… mostly because i’d known literally 1/3 of my year group at catholic school since kindy/kindergarten or some other point in primary school.

this affected my choice to leave and it was quite tumultuous inwardly. knowing the safety and predictably of the people i was with for all those years was a comfort to me. i knew their parents due to parent mixer bbqs that we’d have after mother’s day and father’s day liturgies- although i hated the mother’s day ones mostly, due to personal reasons. but to leave that comfortable place for overly loyal, kinda sorta shy (although everyone who knew me at that school wouldn’t’ve described me as shy bc i was a very loud show off because of drama class 😅) and by year 10, very lonely, highly socially anxious and depressed, teen me was terrifying. it meant losing her friends and stability and she obvs hated that thought. it meant leaving the one one place she ever felt good at something, drama class.

obviously, after she did leave for public school, she visited the catholic school on a few separate occasions, to try and keep the connection “alive” or whatever the fuck she wrote in a fake deep status on her fb (that i now get in my fb memories every year lmao). but it all ended pretty badly, when everyone from that school stopped talking to her once high school finished. no one invited her out. or if people did try to invite her out, like a couple of people did, it always fell through…. and it made her feel like she was just a bad luck charm or whatever other low self esteem talk she was telling herself. there was quite a few moody statuses around that too lmao.

but yeah. leaving catholic school was a massive thing for me back then, because even though i hadn’t gone to church on sunday for literal Y E A R S at that point; i still had a strong pull to that school because i’d known SO MANY kids at that school from primary/elementary/grade etc school, regardless of their year group level. because if there’s one thing catholic school was good at, it was networking 😂. you knew everyone, and everyone knew you. it was safe, it was sound, so i didn’t want to leave.

but once you leave, you lose your friends and what almost felt like an extended family (although they obvs weren’t). but at the same time, i’d grown to hate the safety and almost insularity of the school, because as i mentioned earlier, you felt like you could predict how people would react or behave in class/events etc.

i felt the above distinctly, because as i’ve mentioned plenty on here, from years 7-10 i was a very emotionally demonstrative kid. in some classes (mostly religion and PE when i was bothered to participate) i’d end up in shouting matches with the teacher or other students…. or y’know just have a casual meltdown in the middle of class, which many people saw as “attention seeking” behaviour. i felt watched, i felt ready to snap, and to quote the ever present All Time Low i felt like the bridge lyrics from “therapy” (which was/is quite obviously somewhat partially about the price of fame and hollywood imo- but that went over teen me’s head at the time lmao):

“arrogant boy, love yourself so no one has to, they’re better off without you (better off without you). arrogant boy, cause a scene like you’re supposed to, they’ll fall asleep without you; you’re lucky if your memory remains”

like yes. i’ll admit those bridge lyrics being applied to this time is rather overdramatic, in hindsight, but hey. that was teen me for ya lmao. and don’t even get me started on applying ATL’s song “sick little games” to this at the time as well 😂😅. anyway. from all the “lms and i’ll tell you what i like about you” trend statuses that people were doing back then on fb, i’d gained the tag of “cool/chill girl”, my crush rich boy, once called me “outrageous” because of how loud i was and how willing in years 7-9 to scream out stupid song lyrics like “i want to fuck dog in the ass” by blink 182, fight song by marilyn manson and then idek probably my humps by black eyed peas at the top my lungs through the very few halls that that school had 😂😅. i was being purposely and annoyingly offensive most of the time.

but eventually, once it came to things like one of the girls in my group wanting to run for vice school captain and the other girls in my group A L W A Y S being given leadership positions (LPs)….. while i always had to apparently “repent” my behaviour by being made (in theory from my teachers) to sit alone at lunch because of my “embarrassing” and “unseemly” behaviour at the so-called “training”/ “retreat” days we had for things like being peer support leaders for the new cohort of year 7s etc etc. i felt like everyone was just waiting for me to leave…. and that they couldn’t stand my “embarrassing” presence and that i’d ruin my friends chances of being selected as co-captain or whatever other bullshit LPs they wanted to run for. but still. i felt like i couldn’t leave. just. how do you leave a bunch of people that you’ve known for so long???

and even when my teachers were nice enough to give me a chance in a leadership position once; in that dastardly bullshit internet safety workshop thing that they should’ve literally just hired a professional workshop co. to do….. but to save money they used students in my year group instead. so, instead of being marked by my teachers on this program; i was marked by the catholic education office. they had a lady come in from the ceo to judge/mark us while presenting…… and this lady went off at teen me for “not being professional, responsible and respectful” or whatever the fuck the woman told 15/16yo me…. which teen me then fired back with “i don’t have to be fucking professional and responsible!!!! IM FUCKING 15!!!!”.. so from then on i was never given an LP or any other type of “peer support” role against my friends who were littered with offers for them. mind you, i did call a whole room of 14 year olds “a bunch of cunts” or the like and then stormed out thinking that i’d made a solid point, so the CEO woman had a good reason 😂😅….. again in hindsight.

of course there was also the bitterness of teen me being angry at the english dept for not giving her a spot in the top class of english in her half of the year. but as i’ve said previously on other posts, i’ve forgiven this because i did essentially fail one shakespeare in class assessment in year 8 or year 9 😂. but i strongly felt this during my time at catholic school bc my friends believed that i should’ve been in the top english class too lmao.

but aside from those troubles and foibles, i still found it incredibly hard to leave. to leave the perceived closeness of that group of girls, who would sometimes walk me down to the office and sit with me in “purple room” while i waited for the teacher that had to act as my therapist almost lmao. even though i always told my friends to leave me be and go back to class bc i felt bad about dragging them out of class for so long.

but yeah. with all the above behaviour, the song lyrics to me at the time made sense bc teen me just felt so pressured to fit into the whole “funny, cool, outrageous girl” bs box that people had put her in…. but at the same time she wanted to escape it bc she was just *flyleaf voice* SO SICK of being laughed at instead of laughed with (atl weightless reference here kids) just because… like she DESERVED to be taken seriously for fucks sake, and not a be a “monkey do funny dance” person… she obvs felt this the most in drama class. where in the shakespeare unit, she picked a medley of romeo and juliet and taming of the shrew monologues to do for her monologue. although she nearly did lady macbeth throwing herself off the tower, to be hella edgy…. but she opted not to do that in the end. but she picked serious pieces bc she was sick and tired of being classed as the one trick pony go-to funny person.

okay. this really went off topic. but y’all get the point??? the decision of leaving catholic school was a hell of a ride for little 14-16yo me. it was confusing, terrifying and tied up in years of being overly judged and feeling like people wanted me to leave bc they were sick of me. it was tied up in years of mid-class meltdowns that had become kind of routine for me to have, and that people were just brushing me off as “attention seeking”…. but also ironically waiting for me to snap at any second for another wild shouting match or walkout; which would then make me look like i was “unruly” or “untameable/unmanageable” or whatever the fuck….. but i couldn’t take that anymore, for the final senior years. i HAD to leave it.

again it was hard to leave for loyal little teen me, despite how lonely and isolated she felt. why leave your friends when you’re comfortable??? but also: why stay in this toxic environment where people are just waiting for you to either shut the fuck up and put up with it or just blow up and absolutely lose your shit??? that’s just unhealthy asf. and the only unruly thing that’s happening here is the complete lack of mental health help or management in the aussie education system; but most especially in religious schools.

#life #about me #shut up ilona #ilona’s catholic school memories #ilona’s catholic school rants #sorry it’s another tl;dr in the feels post lmao

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xmyshya · 4 years ago

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Bumpy road

summary: What if two of your favourite boys were pining after you? genre: angst, fluff, crack warnings: stupidity special thanks: the whole HQ Headquarters DS, for giving me ideas, for hyping up, for everything, I love you all. a/n: Colour coded! Red for Kuroo, Yellow for Atsumu, black for neutral/both! There's an Easter Egg! wc: 3.9k words

[April]

“Please take a seat in the last row”, your eyes followed an extended arm of your new homeroom teacher until they landed on a boy with the messiest bedhead you’d ever seen. He didn’t seem to pay much attention to you though, instead resting his eyes on a faraway point on the other side of the window. Until he heard the noise you made while shuffling your chair, that is. “Hiiiiii, I’m L/N Y/N, nice to meet you neighbour!”, a wide smile formed on your face. “Kuroo Tetsurou, nice to meet you too”.

One week later, you were standing on the gym's threshold, filling your lungs with a deep breath before taking the first step in as a new manager. Volleyball had never been a sport close to your heart, but you had had some experience with it, as well as basic knowledge, so you were up for a challenge. All the more reason to after being asked by an unexpectedly fun friend. And being able to spend more time with said friend. But more time spent on talking came with another consequence. You started hearing rumours and whispers. Things like wow, she’s really talking to him or oh, another victim to his charm reached your ears from everywhere. “Kuroo, am I not supposed to talk to you or something?”, slipped your lips one day. You might as well continue, since he already heard you and was now looking at you with a confusion clear in his eyes. “I just heard people being… surprised about this”. “Oh, apparently I’m either intimidating or hot enough to be a fuckboy”, you choked on your own saliva. “You’re what?” “Intimidating or hot, or both”, did he really say that with a straight face, not once but twice? You just burst out laughing, eyeing him up and down. “Sorry, where?”, laughter bending your body in half, you bumped your head against the desk. “Ouch”

[July]

School premises were swarmed with sweaty boys. Some of them were familiar, like Bokuto or Akaashi, who had been friends with Kuroo for quite a long time. You recognised Karasuno, also known as Country Bumpkins, due to a practice match 2 months prior. The rest? Well, you only knew they were parts of the Fukurodani group. There was a mock game going on, and you, being a diligent manager, observed every move of your teammates to give them performance feedback. Further into the game though, your eyes shifted more and more onto your best friend’s lifting shirt, every time he went for a block. Or spiked. Or served. And wow, his thigh muscles were really… “Okay people, time for a break!”, a shout somewhere near you brought you back to reality. You stood up and made your way to the door, to catch some fresh air, while you bumped into quite a firm body. Looking up revealed it was Kuroo. His smirk made you wonder if he noticed your stares. His wink convinced you he, in fact, did. “Y/N, your name should be Neon, cause daaaaaamn you’re a perfect 10” “So you must be Helium, cause I sure as hell want you on top of me on a table”, few people whistled. Oh shit. His reaction gave you an extra boost of confidence, because now it was painfully obvious that all the rumours about the man in front of you were pretty much it, rumours, since his ears could as well be beacons. You winked at him on your way back to the door, and he still stood there dumbfounded when you looked back after reaching it.

[October]

Something had changed. You couldn’t quite put a finger on what exactly, but it was different. Like a tiny heat wave whenever your hands brushed, and they brushed more often. Like an extra beat of your heart whenever you felt his touch on the small of your back. Like your eyes lingering on for a second longer, before dropping to each other’s lips. Like a blush tinting his ears when you smile at him. Or like the way his heart clenched, when your thick tears threatened to burn their way through his chest, because the world had been unfair to you once too many, while the only thing he could do was to hold you so tight and kiss the top of your head so gently.

[November]

Having to stay late at school really was a blessing, when it was just the two of you in an empty train compartment on your way home. Otherwise, you surely would be scolded or at least stared at, because the decibels of your laughters while fooling around were beyond socially acceptable limits. He was now chasing you, fingers threatening to tickle you once you’re caught… You started to turn just in time for your back to hit the wall, and you definitely didn’t expect him to be so close, with the way he hovered over you and his hand making a loud thud. Or maybe it was your heart. “Oh sorry, the train bumped”, there was something in his eyes that compelled you to look into them, even when he leaned on his forearm above your head. He was so close, you could almost feel his breath on your skin. “Are you sure it’s not you falling for me?”, a chuckle in your throat died instantly as you saw his eyes open wide in fear for a fraction of a second, before his usual cocky smirk curled his lips again. He booped your nose before leaning against the wall next to you. The rest of the way home was silent.

[January]

It was time for you to run to your own team’s match. There was no way to miss a game for a manager, even if it was just your presence serving as a support on court. Your eyes slipped down to your watch only for a moment, but it was enough for a disaster to occur. You felt your body clash with another. “I’m so-” “Watch where yer running, ya fucking idiot”, you really wanted to apologise, you really did. But obviously not anymore, not when the other person was shouting at you like that. “Excuse me?! And where the fuck did your eyes go, huh? And don’t you dare speak to me like that”, your finger digging relentlessly into this stranger’s chest, despite his posture being so much bigger than yours, rage boiling in your veins blocking successfully any feeling of intimidation. “Do ya have any idea who ya talkin’ to? Miya Atsumu of Inarizaki, ya pig”, he straightened up and lifted his chin, looking down at you with a half smirk. You, however, only raised a brow. “Ooohhhhh…”, you squint your eyes for a moment, tapping a finger on your slightly pouty lips. “Never heard of ya”, you gave him a wide smile as you continued your rushed steps towards another gym. “W-wait a sec!”, shit, you really didn’t have time for this, “I uhh, sorry? I thought ya were one of dem stalking fangals and uhh...”, it was clear he wasn’t used to apologising. “The way ya talked back at me was so freaking cool! Can I have yer number?” You were shocked that he dared asking you that after the insults he spouted. Even more so, when you found yourself tapping your digits into his phone.

Nekoma won the match. Not that it was surprising, you always believed in the boys, and you had believed in their plan. But now that the game was over, you were heading to have a sneak peek at your Crow friends. You didn’t expect the situation to be so dire. From the scoreboard, your eyes moved to their opponents and… oh shit. Preparing to serve was HIM, none other than self-proclaimed “THE” Miya Atsumu. He noticed you too, surely, because he was grinning your way and oh my god was it a wink? Because it definitely looked like a wink. The whole match was a pain to watch. It had you hyped, it had you devastated, it had you crying and laughing uncontrollably. But when Oranges finally won, indescribable joy overwhelmed you, while you screamed and jumped around. Sudden hand on the small of your back startled you, emotion quickly replaced with surprise and confusion when you saw Kuroo attached to it. He hadn’t touched you in 2 months. “C’mon, time for us to go”, he pushed you gently towards the door while staring down the blonde setter behind your back. His gaze said he was taking up the challenge.

In the evening, the whole team was gathered in front of the tv to watch repetitions, over and over again, and figure out a strategy. Honestly your focus only could last that long, mind already looking for distractions, when you heard a ding from your phone. [unknown]: Ya know, could’ve been less happy about our loss. ‘M heartbroken now. [Y/N]: That’s what you get for playing against my friends ;) who’s this, btw? [Miya]: Whaddya mean ‘who’?! It’s Miya Atsumu here! [Y/N]: Aaahhhhh… Never heard of him :D [Miya]: We gotta change it then “Maaaaan, I wish we could play against Miyas”, Yamamoto’s voice dragged you back into the room. “Yeah, me too”, Kuroo hissed through clenched teeth.

[February]

Recent weeks were crazy. Preparation for college entrance exams was consuming most of your time, along with your sanity. If only Kuroo was with you, he would surely tell you to take a short break, instead, your mind was spiraling into educational anxiety. Am I doing enough? What if I fail? What if I forget something? What if… the soft sound of a notification brought you down to Earth. Miya Atsumu sent you a friend request. Ah, right. You were overworking yourself so much lately, that you almost stopped replying to his texts, still you were sure to receive at least one every 2-3 days. Request accepted. Just when you were about to re-focus on the textbook in front of you, another notification came. Miya Atsumu liked your photo. Amused, you click on it only to discover the picture was from… 4 years ago. Reaction disappeared, however, almost as quickly as it appeared. On the other side of the line Atsumu’s hands were shaking and sweating, his face red, as his brain was sent into an overdrive. Oh no, oh no, ohnonono, what have I done, has she noticed, do I look desperate, what do I do now, whatdoIdo. But you never said anything about it.

[Miya]: Ya need ta relax once in a while, ya know? [Miya]: Stress ain’t bringing in results [Y/N]: Wow, so you can say something wise :0 [Miya]: HA. HA. HA. [Miya]: Now please wouldya get me? I dunno Tokyo too much. 10 minutes later you were scanning the crowd on the train station in search of a familiar blonde. It wasn’t too hard to find him, but unexpectedly… he had company. Of 2 other guys, including one looking exactly like him, except for a different hair colour. They were introduced to you as ‘Samu (apparently Atsumu was too nervous to go alone) and Suna (he would never miss a spectacle like this). “So where do you need to get to?”, Suna looked at his friend with amusement, and you could swear you heard his twin whisper “she doesn’t know?”. Suddenly you had a phone screen right in front of your eyes, pictures of your favourite cafe on display. How did he.... “I wanna take a certain gal here”, Atsumu tapped on the screen, his eyes focused intensely on yours. As soon as you shifted your gaze from his mobile to his face though, he looked away. “Let’s go then, I guess”

Having your favourite hot chocolate in your hands would have been relaxing, if not for the deafening silence and weird smirks between two extras. “Soooooo, care to explain what you’re doing here?” “Sightseeing?”, blonde sitting opposite of you looks quite adorable with the pink tint, hand on the nape of his neck. Wait, adorable? “Yeah, y/n here being the sight, OUCH”, Suna jumped in his seat, definitely kicked by Atsumu. Maybe he was right, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to have a breather from books and notes. On the other side of the window, Kuroo was clenching his fists, as he watched you laugh, not really sure of the reason behind his anger.

[April]

Being late on the very first day is a bad omen, you cursed as you ran through the campus. It was NOT your fault that it was so needlessly big. It also wasn’t your fault that you spent way too much time searching for motivation to attend this class, which was clearly added to the program to harass students. It was bound to be the most boring subject, you just felt it in your bones. You opened the door to the lecture hall as quietly as you could, and then tiptoed to the nearest free seat, eyes trained on the lecturer (you thanked gods she was turned back to the room). Luck was on your side, she hasn’t noticed. “Whatcha doin’ here, babe?”, a sudden whisper and lips barely brushing your ears made you jump in your chair. You almost screamed, but the man’s reflexes were almost inhuman, as he covered your mouth with his hand. Truthfully speaking, it might have been better to prevent your knee from bumping against the desk, because now you had all the unwanted attention. And a hurting knee. “K-Kuroo?!”, you whisper-shout back at him. “I knew we enrolled in the same university, but same class?” “I think this might be the only one, since it’s mandatory for everyone” You thought this course might actually be your favourite.

Obviously he noticed it. It was impossible not to, since the pisshead was a new follower on almost ALL of your social media. Not just a follower, no. He was commenting on nearly each photo, and reacting to every. Single. One. At first Kuroo was just mildly annoyed. Then angry. And then he could feel his blood boil whenever he saw his name under your post. He wasn’t going to tell you though how he checked every hour or so if you had replied. That day, when you both sat in your room, working on some early assignment (two heads are better than one), your phone was blowing up. Tetsurou knew who it was, he saw the bubbles popping up on your screen. You didn’t pay attention to them, much to his relief. On the other hand, Atsumu was going crazy. “Samuuuuuu, she ain’t replying!” “Samuuuuuu, ya think she’s on a date?” “Samuuuuuu, did I annoy her too much?” “Samuuuu….” “Shut up, Tsumu” “Y/N? Smile for the photo”, he laughed when your head snapped towards his raised hand, and your eyes opened wide. Kuroo pushed the shutter button exactly when you smacked his arm. “What the hell’s wrong with you?!”, notes and the search engine slowly reclaimed your main focus, partly because you wanted to hide a blush blooming on your cheeks. “Just wanted to commemorate our first study session in our university life!”, he mused as he entered First assignment with the best girl <3 - @y/n in caption and pressed <upload>. Let’s see if you react to this one, asshole. He didn’t.

[May]

[Y/N]: Are you okay? You’ve been awfully silent lately. [Miya]: ‘M ok! Didn’t want to bother ya. [Y/N]: Huh? [Y/N]: Why the sudden change? [Miya]: Idk, maybe I shouldn’t text “best girl <3” [Y/N]: Atsumu… You’re an idiot [Miya]: Am not! He was. He realised this few days later, right before hopping on a train to Tokyo. Or rather… his brother made him realise this. “Huuuuuuuh?! Whaddya mean I like her?! I mean, I do, she’s cool, but whaaaat?!” “Tsumu… Yer about’a get on a train ta see her!” “So?” “Yer an idiot” “Hey! That’s what she said too!” Looking back at it, that might have been true. Maybe. After all, he was on his way to a city 500 km away, just to see… a friend. Would he do that for just a friend?

He found you outside, and he swore it was the prettiest scene he had ever seen. Gentle breeze blew your hair, as you basked in the sunshine. With your floral dress you reminded him of a flower praising the sun. In that very moment he regretted he hadn’t bought you anything, not even some flowers. Not that they would compare to you. He watched you turn to him in slow motion, as if he was in a movie, and you were about to jump into his arms. You just smiled instead, but its brightness could rival the orb up in the sky. At that moment, he knew he was gone.

“So ya say… there’s anime about volleyball?” “Yes! And it’s so good! Seems pretty accurate too!” “Ya hafta show me! That’s so cool!”, he reminded you of a kid, with his eyes shining like glitter, and a smile covering at least half of his face.

He had exactly the same expression, when he suddenly stopped walking and you bumped into him, ice cream spreading nicely on your nose as he was taking a selfie of both of you. And then again at the train station, when he was worried his arms might have lingered a tad too long around your waist, but you didn’t pull back. Later, a screech could be heard in your room as that photo appeared on your timeline. With your name attached to it. In yer face, rooster bastard, Atsumu thought as he had clicked the <upload> button. Kuroo only scoffed, original much. But if that’s how he wants to play…

[July]

Lunch break was your favourite part of the day not just because it was, well, a break, and not only because of lunch. It was the time spent on talking, goofing around and stealing each other’s food, together with Tetsurou. That day, however, exhaustion took over and you couldn’t do much more than just lay your head on the cantine table, your hair a messy veil. “I can’t wait for summer break to come, I want it to come already! My brain is so tired” “Hang in there! It’s just 2 weeks of exams, and then we’re free!” “Why are you doing this to me, Kuroooooo” “I’ve always been a nice person” His hand was soft as he gently uncovered your face, strand by strand. “Wanna go somewhere and relax a little before all hell breaks loose?” Soft hum was the only thing leaving your lips as you melted into his touch.

The sun was merciless, as if its sole purpose was to burn the Earth to ashes. The fact that you were ankles deep in a stream and shielded by dense leaves didn’t help at all. Undeniably though it was soothing for the soul. “Okay, let’s move on”, Kuroo said, despite wanting to watch you forever. There was something about this relaxed expression that strung the cords of his heart. Yes, you looked happy. It took you too short a while to have shoes on and be ready to walk again. Summer breeze felt wonderful as you climbed up a rocky hill, scorching heat finally letting up a little. Temptation to just stand there with eyes closed and arms open wide almost too strong. Still, you let yourself submerge in it enough, not to notice a slippery boulder. You were preparing yourself for the impact, but instead, you felt a pull on your wrist and then a firm chest in front and a strong arm around your waist. “Please be more careful”, a whisper rather felt than heard, barely louder than a breath. This and his scent intoxicated you. “Let’s go?”

The view was magnificent. Just behind the hill, there was a lake, as clear as glass. Its naturally azure colour was tinted with golden afternoon light and rosy flowers covering the trees growing around the coastline. Some of the petals were floating on the surface, between the sun kissed shimmers. It was truly breathtaking, both of you wished you could stay in that moment. Neither of you noticed, none of you had let go of each other’s hand.

[Y/N]: Random thought. [Y/N]: What if I were a werewolf? [Miya]: … [Miya]: Are ya? oO [Y/N]: Hmm? Would it be a problem if I was? [Miya]: I… ‘m allergic to dogs… :( [Miya]: I swear I’ll get meds! [Y/N]: Wow, such a sacrifice! You would do that for me? [Miya]: I would even hunt squirrels for ya! [Y/N]: Squirrels? [Miya]: Or whatever werewolves eat [Y/N]: Wow, I’m speechless “Samuuuuuuuuu, she sent me a heart! A HEART!”, the fluttering in his chest was almost unbearable. “Shut yet mouth, ya simp! It’s 1 am!” He wasn’t a simp, of course not. Sure, he did watch whatever you recommended to him, and listened to whatever song you said you loved. He did research on things you had said were interesting, and rushed to his phone whenever it announced a new message. But being a simp? Him? Never.

[August]

If this wasn’t heaven, you didn’t know what would be. Warm sand under your back, cool water coming in waves to wash the heat off of your skin, and the sun watching you from the clearest sky. You heard a click somewhere behind your head, and opened your eyes to see your relative, showing proudly their creation. “You just looked so blissful, Y/N. Couldn’t help it”. You couldn’t blame them. You didn’t remember feeling this much at peace either. “Send it to me, please!”

Tucked gently in your covers, you were swiping through your gallery, admiring the pictures you and your relative had taken. After another round you finally decided which ones you wanted to share with the world, a mixture of landscapes, sunsets and portraits. As soon as you were informed about the post being up, you silenced your phone and closed your eyes ready to sleep… This might have been one of the best decisions you had made recently. You had never seen that many alerts on any of your content. Majority of these were from Atsumu, who obviously made sure none of your uploadings went unnoticed, which spread a warmth in your chest. What really caught your attention though, was how many times one particular picture was mentioned. Yes, the one on the beach. It was almost scary. {Kuroo}: Babe, you shouldn’t expose yourself like that, there are thirsty bois around. {Atsumu}: Who tf are ya callin’ thirsty?! {Kuroo}: Never said I was talking about you, but I guess I found one {Atsumu}: Listen here ya smug ass’ole, ya think yer funny? Suna only sent a gif of popcorn eating {Osamu}: Okay Y/N, as much as I find this exhilarating…just choose already, spare those two poor souls! Suna sent another gif, this time a very disappointed one.

Choose? Wtf does that mean? And then it hit you. Kuroo suddenly getting touchy again after distancing himself from you. His sudden clinginess whenever Atsumu interacted, phone in plain sight. Miya’s constant attention. His willingness to travel and never asking for anything in return. His eagerness to learn about anything you liked. Had you really been so oblivious for this whole time? Well, it could wait until you were back home.

Memories flooded your mind as you were typing the message, your heartbeat rate over the roof, your hands shaky, but you knew you needed to do this. For your sake. For his sake. One last glance over the text “I think it’s time for us to talk…” before you press <send>

Epilogue 1 - Kuroo Epilogue 2 - Tsumu Epilogue 3 - both

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llendrinall · 4 years ago

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What would Harry and Draco be like if they were parents? How would your take on it be from their child/ren's birth to adulthood?

Sorry if my English doesn't sound right.

Well, on the one hand I don’t think either of them would want to have children. Or rather, neither wants to be a parent. Harry knows too well what a bad childhood does to you and I imagine he would be terrified at the prospect of something happening to Draco and him and leaving his child an orphan. Sure, Ron and Hermione would take that hypothetical kid, but what if something happened to them too? And to the rest of the Weasleys? And Luna? And Neville? What would happen to the kid them? James and Lily gave Harry a godfather and it didn’t stop Harry from growing up in an abusive home. So Harry would be super anxious about that, imagining more and more elaborate scenarios in which anyone remotely capable of raising a kid without giving them life-long trauma would be unavailable, and Harry’s kid would end up in hard and uncaring hands, just like Harry and Neville.

(And I’m sure Neville doesn’t help on that respect when he says he won’t be having kids and if he has any, he wants them to have their mother surname. No Longbottom will have a claim to them).

Draco knows his parenting role models are awful. He was extremely spoiled while also suffering immense pressure. Draco got all the candy and gifts he ever wanted, but he was also expected to excel at school, be a powerful wizard and become a Death Eater. It’s not that he doesn’t have a frame of reference, it’s that the one he has is really, really, bad. How do you go not giving your child a mix of anxiety and self-absorption? He would sure like to know.

On the other hand, I’m sure that Harry will adopt anyone who stands still long enough. He is not one to let pain make him hard and cold. Rather, his suffering made him more compassionate.

So he and Draco would eventually adopt a kid (or two or three). Although they might also get an accidental biological magical child too. Let’s give the kid a name, just to make writing easier. Say, Celeste. Celeste the most likely adopted, but still possibly biological magical child.

Celeste would be happy and loved. Probably an only-child for a long time, because both Harry and Draco would still be scared at the notion of parenthood. Celeste would learn quickly to entertain themselves and relate to adults better than to other children.

Harry would stress about Celeste’s wellbeing and having them be self-reliable. Draco would insist on letting the child express themselves and find their own interests. There would be a lot of mistakes and doubts, but overall they would do fine.

Celeste would grow up under the assumption that candy exists only as a Weasley family tradition. Like, candy is something that the Weasleys do but no other household has it. Celeste has certainly never seen a candy treat that didn’t come from Weasley hands.

It’s because Draco has this weird crusade against treats. He got so many as a child! It’s a wonder Draco didn’t develop an eating disorder. There were many other aspects where Draco was spoiled silly, but since he wants Celeste to have a broom and learn to fly young, and also play an instrument and what’s the word? A game-boy, Celeste ought to play muggle games too, Draco is focusing on treats and candy which are completely banned at their household. The Weasleys just ignore the prohibition. It evens out. Celeste has some candy, but not as much as they would otherwise get.

I love the idea of Celeste developing magic (especially if they are some sort of magical biological child, because people would see them as Potter 3.0 Malfoy edition) receiving the Hogwarts letter, going to Diagon Alley to buy a wand, everything, all the little traditions and rituals, and once they arrive to Hogwarts… they don’t like it. Beautiful magical place, yes, but it’s still a boarding school. Putting aside that everyone, from teachers to students, looks at them weird because of who Celeste’s parents are, Celeste misses home, isn’t making friends because it takes them a while to open up and overall is having a bad time.

So Harry and Draco take Celeste back home. No questions. Their child wrote saying they didn’t like it there, so Harry and Draco removed their child from that situation immediately. There is no reason they can’t apparate every day for lessons and even if there were, even if there were all kind of obstacles… Their child wrote asking for help and harry and Draco want to do better.

They take Celeste home, where Celeste has all their stuff, is happy and can see Oso. (Oso is the family dog. A huge mastiff so called after a picture in a children’s book. The picture was of a bear, but to be honest Oso does look like a bear to any well informed three-year old).

Of course Hogwarts doesn’t agree with the new arrangement. Harry reminds them that on Halloween of his first year they had a troll roaming inside and things only got worse after that. Harry is told that most of those unfortunate events where a consequence of Voldemort. Nowadays Hogwarts is perfectly safe and perhaps Harry is letting his anxieties take undue hold of him.

“What about the student bullying?” Harry says, with heroic calm. He would rather set the desk on fire.

“What about it? There are centaurs in the forest, but no bulls, I assure you, and as you well known, Mr Potter, students are prohibited from wandering the forest. I do think you are seeing threats where there are none”.

Ah, of course. The wizarding world isn’t familiar with the concept of “bullying”. The application and execution, they know it well, but they don’t’ have a word for what is considered normal conduct.

Celeste attends the rest of the year as if it were a normal school, which is widely criticized although there are also many other parents interested.

And then… The academic year ends and Celeste drops out of Hogwarts. The whole wizarding world comes to a stop, although one should specify that in this case “the whole wizarding world” means “English wizarding society”. The continent doesn’t care if a child attends school or not. Welsh and Scotland care, but not enough to come to a halt. They do discuss it, but they go on with their business. It’s the English wizards who seem to have a problem with it. From September to December the papers write about nothing else.

The things is, Celeste has acquired some of Harry’s anxieties and is concerned with how little they were learning at Hogwarts. A lot of magic, yes, but nothing on language (and Celeste loves reading and learning languages) and even less about math. Not that Celeste likes math, but they worry about not knowing how to adequately manage the family fortune when their parents are gone. You know how wealth does not last three generations? Well, it certainly won’t if Celeste doesn’t learn how to balance expenses. Celeste wants to learn enough that they won’t be vulnerable to their solicitor., and when they put it that way even his gransfather has to admit there is a point.

(And maybe Harry failed Celeste here, letting his child worry so much about becoming an orphan, but Harry routinely receives dead threats and Draco has suffered two attempts on his life, so).

Harry couldn’t be more proud. No benevolent-looking wizard will take advantage of Celeste. Draco is also very happy because Celeste’s muggle school has art lessons in the curriculum and they have Drama as an extra-curricular. Celeste doesn’t want to sign to Theatre, but the mere fact it’s there pleases Draco immensely.

The ministry makes Celeste sits the OWLs in order to keep their wand. There are parents asking about educations alternatives, so the Ministry hopes that once Celeste fails people will accept Hogwarts as it comes, none of that day-school nonsense and hiring qualified teachers.

Except muggle school prepares you really well for the study process (or maybe, it simply prepares you better than magical schools do) so Celeste excels at the written exams. They do really, really, well, which is something Hermione Granger had been predicting for the last four years but nobody listened to her, so she is even more chuffed than Harry and Draco. Hermione has won sixteen different bets and is going to bring parliamentary reform to the education system.

Celeste’s spell work could see some improvement, but they have no trouble conjuring a corporeal patronus and that still qualifies as an automatic O in DADA. With that and some luck in Transfigurations, Celeste graduates Hogwarts having only attended a year. Lucius Malfoy, who is still racist but above all is a social creature and social climber, gives a week-long ball to celebrate his grandchild academic achievement. He also gifts Celeste a summer trip around Europe. Correction, because Lucius knows both Harry and Draco, but specially Draco, are very strict with gifts, he makes a donation to Celeste’s school language club. Did Lucius pay so thirty-odd muggle teenagers can spend three weeks around Europe practicing their foreign languages? Why, he sure did. And you won’t disappoint said children, will you Draco? I will take the money back if you ask me to, but little Prisha will be crushed.

There is a Prisha in Celeste’s school. Lucius is either weirdly stalkerish or paying attention to Celeste.

So maybe Celeste has inherited some anxieties and complexes, like many children do, but Lucius has become a better person and a pretty cool grandfather, so overall I think Harry and Draco are good parents.

#harry potter #draco malfoy #grandpa lucius malfoy #drarry #verse: drarry parenthood

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like-rain-or-confetti · 4 years ago

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How would the Romanians react to an autistic person (I am autistic)

DISCLAIMER: This is a big one and I will deem sensitive. It should be said that I am not diagnosed with Autism but do have people in my life with the condition. Therefore, I very much might get something wrong and/or have answered this with my own personal knowledge and experience. I've also used a quick Google search once or twice. NONE OF THIS CONTENT is to upset or offend anyone but will be mentioning sensitive topics such as intolerance within historical era's.

So these two have almost no experience with humans. Unless you want to include feeding on them until death.

Plus their era isn't going to help them.

It depends on how far on the spectrum the human is in terms of if it's their are different mannerisms and behaviour. The Romanians will pick up on them immediately considering it odd or even a human trying to be rude. Unless someone tells them about autism, they won't have a clue about even the existence of the condition. It will have to be explained that autism hasn't become more common recently, it wasn't rare even in their time. Society was simply intolerable of those behaviours and deemed a person incapable or flawed in those times.

If Autism is explained to them they'll learn that these individuals with the condition aren't heartless, rude or lacking empathy. Therefore, anything they say and do in the Romanians company isn't insolence. They'd have to be told that those with autism can be confused by social signals like facial expression, body language and tone of voice. That's important because those without such conditions are highly dependent on those signals. The Romanians being a classic example in such dependency.

The next is to clarify that it isn't something to be cured. They very likely know that for themselves given the explanation they have been provided. It comes into the newer concept for them that everyone has their own specific set of needs and sometimes those fulfilled by society standards aren't enough. It's really getting them out of the mindset they grew up with that they had to adapt to survive in their own society and therefore, 'change to be like everyone else and their socially acceptable expectations'. It may be alarming to the Romanians at how flexible so society is today. For example it wasn't too far away in history that left handed people were getting extreme harmful methods by education and adults in general to be right handed instead. Being left handed was considered almost evil seemingly because the word 'left' derives from the Anglo-Saxon word 'lyft' which meant weak. Whilst such an example is far beyond their time to begin with, you can imagine how societies progression is like a stranger to what they were accustomed to.

It might be best for them to grasp the condition by using more relatable examples at first. Such as socializing within children. Even not having have something such as Autism, some children prefer to be on their own and actively avoid being around a lot of people at the same time. We'd deem them as loners, introverted or shy. Whilst there are other children who are very extroverted, love making friends and take part in games and playing with others around them. We'd deem them social butterflies. Both of these are possible with autism. There are many who like to make friends and be around others just as much as there are those who'd rather be alone and enjoy their own company. This would definitely illustrate a clearer picture for the two. They'd recall those in their coven who fit such descriptions, those who were incredibly sociable whilst there were others who sought and enjoyed solitude. Of course it would be clear that whilst the example was children, it could be said the same for adults. So much so, they'd pick that up on their own without the promoting.

This next one is the big one. The big hurdle that has been around since civilization or whatever you'd like to deem...I'd say even before the enlightenment era. This biggest myth there is about Autism is that those diagnosed cannot learn. This is absolutely not true. The fault history has had and to some extent still has today is that if you don't fit the exact standards of what the education system or society seems ideal then you must be incapable of learning. This is a load of shit. Of course, through no fault of their own, the Romanians would immediately think this but no-no, we're getting educated today boys. As mentioned before, everyone has individualistic needs for them specifically. We can't blame the Romanians when they came from a society that tossed any kind of individualism to the side but we're gonna help them out. It's the same way. Those with autism most certainly can learn. Some, depending on the severity, need a different form of teaching methods and more time to really learn what is being taught. Some people pick things up better than others but we don't determine we shouldn't teach someone who's falling behind. As long as someone knows how to teach that specific person with a style tailored to them, the person will very much learn. However such time and effort wasn't given back in their era. So this is a whole other thing to them. The human race has moved past the demand someone knows something. We've progressed from being violent/hurting children to get a point across.

They'd greatly appreciate how refined those with Autism could be. Learning, skills and talent aren't just in what you can recite out of a textbook after all! Hearing that there are those who aren't so good with maths or languages but excell at drawing? They love it. If you have a talent then you should nurture it. The Romanians can't fault anyone for that. An example would be the man who inspired the film 'Rain Man' Kim Peek. From what I remember of psychology. Kim Peek had a photographic memory and could remember things like pages upon pages of a phone book. Highly intelligent stuff but whilst at a restaurant and told he was speaking too loud, without fail he'd slump into his seat, sliding down so that he appeared smaller in attempt to lower his voice. They'd be fascinated but you'd have to remind them that not everyone who has Autism displays such apparent behaviours. There are many who are on the spectrum and no one would have guessed upon meeting them.

So there is a lot of learning on their part but they would pick up very easily that those with Autism are very much like the rest of the population. They might act a little different sometimes or miss a social cue every now and then that leads to a very confusing encounter but that doesn't make them any less of a vibrant personality with likes and dislikes like everyone else who also deals with good days and bad days like everyone else. Whilst being Autistic is a part of being who someone is- that doesn't mean they won't have difficulty sometimes. The Romanians would be very sympathetic to that, recognising how confusing some daily situations can be to really grasp, especially when having a bad day.

They'd want to know if those with Autism consider it to be suffering constantly, a constant doom and gloom. They'll be relieved to hear it most certainly isn't! It isn't like suffering from an illness, it's living with something that's just a part of who you are and sometimes like everyone else, challenges will be faced.

Now that we've got the whole teach-the-Romanians segment let's pretend they know about Autism and their reaction upon meeting someone with Autism for the first time. They're watching every miniscule movement. They're already very good judges of character and will do their best to try and pick up on the expressions and movements of the person to make sure they aren't crossing any lines. They're very polite but are much more patient, ensuring the person is aware that their is no expectations. They don't need to worry if they make a mistake as they've likely already picked up that the person meant well. If anything they'll be more patient and give benefit of the doubt.

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project-sour-grapes · 4 years ago

Text

My Precious Entitled Career

Despite my “success,” I've come to the realization that how I approach everything is wrong.

I am a professional in tech and an artist. My friends call me patient and hardworking beyond what is expected. In high school, I was one of those never-crack-a-book honors students with a fancy scholarship. However, when I look inward, all of these good fruits seem like an accident.

I was recently let go from a tech company that your average zoomer would know the name of. There was a conflict around compensation that played out over a week or two that escalated into my being terminated. While the decisions I made were kosher with my contract and were built upon advice from other professionals who had been in my shoes, I now consider my approach to be a failure. It's important to note that I don't regret standing up for myself, as that lesson was overdue for separate reasons. However, my mindset throughout the conflict did not serve me any good and I've now seen the severity of my entitlement and self importance through a magnifying glass.

I could detail you the statistics on median pay for my job, my old company, my state, etc. I could state why the situation seemed unjust and why I felt underappreciated and fooled. Maybe it was unfair on paper, and maybe I had the right to be angry, depending on who you ask. But I don't care anymore.

Time has been plentiful for my unemployed self. I have spent it ruminating, walking, and listening to audiobooks, one of which is Ego is the Enemy by Ryan Holiday. In one chapter, Holiday details Jackie Robinson's struggles as a black man trying to play professional baseball. If anything was fair on paper, it would have been Jackie Robinson fighting back against the racists (which he did and was arrested for when he was younger). But as a professional, he was encouraged by others to ignore racism and just beat them in games. And he did. He didn’t fight anybody anymore, even though he would have been right to and those idiots would have deserved it. Being a famous baseball player and fully grown adult yet being treated like a non-human or a child is the peak of unfair. But Holiday’s book’s point is that looking past unfairness towards the mission is sometimes necessary to accomplish it.

I'm not saying my life struggle compares to Jackie Robinson's. In fact, that is exactly what I'm not saying. My "unfair" situations pale in comparison to his. He climbed Everest and I'm over here upset about an ant hill. And in some sense, I made that ant hill myself. I mean that if he can experience literal crimes and keep his head up, then I need to shut my damn mouth.

What is the correct approach to my work then? Let's rewind a bit. Full disclosure, my old approach to my life's work was this:

I am going to work myself to death for you, and if you don't give me the world in return, that is a moral failure.

Isn't that a biting statement? There is the entitlement out in the open. I'm not proud to have thought this way at all, and I'm sorry to all of you have had to put up with this mindset from me. But there it is.

Now. Where do we go from here? Well, during my unemployed ruminations over the past few weeks, I came across Dr. Alok Kanojia's (AKA HealthyGamerGG on Youtube) video on motivation, fairness, and how we're not entitled to anything. He talked about how, since life is unfair and unpredictable, we are not entitled to the results of our actions. We don't automatically have the right to the outcome of an action. We only have the actions themselves. Studying doesn’t entitle us to an A+. We are only entitled to the studying itself. That’s the way of the universe. In my old job, I prioritized work above all else. I forewent classes that I ended up failing or dropping. I begged to work overtime. I was, in the words of multiple others, "kicking ass." Then I decided I was entitled to something because of it. And I got angry when that was not satisfied. That is where I went wrong. It is true that I was promised a few things that did not come to fruition. Maybe it was morally acceptable to be angry about unfulfilled promises. But like I said, I’m done caring about that. That's not what it is about anymore.

What is it about is action. All we have in life is our actions. The more I think about what I value, the more I see the emphasis on action.

When we say to live in the present instead of the past or future, we're talking about action, since the present is the only time action can happen

When we roll our eyes at the person who says "I'm the idea guy," we're valuing action

The concept "Show, don't tell" works, because it is about action

Giving your soul to a job/person/thing who didn't even ask for it, then holding out your hand and saying "Gimme" is not about action. It is focused on outcome. Maybe it’s not fair that we can’t expect equal rewards in return for our work all the time. And on paper, it really is. Give X, get X. Seems fair and logical. But for me, for that to be the starting place and the motivation for my work no longer serves me. I’m not saying fairness isn’t a worthy goal or that it is bad. Fairness can be the outcome of a good mission. But it is not required to complete the mission. And it’s not going to be the sole motivator for my decisions, because life is grey and humans can’t always deliver on promises, through no fault of their own. What I'm not going to do anymore is throw my hands up and say, "Sorry, this is unfair so I quit.”

Where this leaves me is that I'm reconsidering my career--not only how I approach the work but the field I chose entirely. In the past, I tried to do biomedical research, but I failed. I have also enrolled and unenrolled in many an EMT class and have taken and failed Biology, Chemistry, and Physics classes repeatedly. This was all because of a hazy dream of being a doctor that has sat in the back of my mind every day.

I kept trying out this doctor dream, but I would always hit a tiny snag, exaggerate it, and give up. I have gone through about 10 multi-month cycles of this for years. And guess what the snags were:

That professor gave me a B+ instead of an A on a single exam. Pre-med education is inherently unfair, and I'm not putting up with this.

I have to study this bio concept that I probably won't even use if I become a real doctor. That's a waste of my time, so I'd rather fail/drop than learn it.

Doctors have to get up at 5am? That goes against science on sleep schedules, so I'm not going to do it.

How pissy and entitled? Who thinks like that? Me, apparently--or who I hope to be "old me."

How did I get so caught up in what is fair or unfair that I lost sight of the forest for the trees? News flash, self... everything is unfair! Gym is always packed? Unfair. Fighting cancer? Unfair. Some idiot who cares less than you do got picked for the job? Unfair. Hell, the unfairness of life is half the reason why we even get up in the morning. Name a career that isn’t about taking an unfair situation and turning it into a better one. (If you can, maybe don’t do that career.) We do stuff as humans, because it’s unfair. Or the alternative, not doing it, would be unfair. If doctors threw up their hands because disease is unfair, we’d still be fighting polio. I wouldn’t make it one second in caveman times with my old attitude. The hungry lions staring at my caveman camp don’t care what I think is fair.

So here's the mission. We are going to look unfair things in the face and still do them. Despite their unfairness. Despite the fear that something will take more than it gives. Despite the brain saying, "This is inefficient, so let's not do it at all." In fact, it's because of their unfairness that we will do them. Then we can leave them better off for someone else. Or do them better the next time. I am calling this Project Sour Grapes. It starts right now.

#sourgrapes

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