#also i love the scotland mention

[hemmohoran]

You're on Your Own Kid (a.i)

Pairing: Ashton Irwin x Fem! Reader

Summary: Based on YOYOK by Taylor Swift. You and Ashton are two best friends who drift apart even if one of you tries to hold on to the relationship.

Warnings: Angst. Language. Mentions of fatphobia, alcohol, drugs, cheating, eating disorders. Some grammatical errors (English is not my first language im sorry)

Word count: 5.6 k

Author's note: This is very me coded cause I needed to sort out feelings regarding two different broken hearts melted into one and several other things so, enjoy my pain, literally. Remember that we love REBLOGS over here and COMMENTS and TAGS and all of that so please, leave your love and SUPPORT YOUR WRITERS. Hope you like it and happy reading 🦋✨🌻

My Masterlist // Taglist on bio!!

Summer went away Still, the yearning stays

8 years old.

There was something so beautiful about the first day of summer break. Maybe it was the fact that the alarm clock didn’t go off and that the sun-soaked curtains were the ones that woke you up, softly letting the warm sunlight hit your face as a reminder that the best twelve weeks of the year were going to start.

Or maybe it was the smile that was immediately drawn upon your face as you heard your best friend call from downstairs:

“Oi, Y/N! What are you waiting for, you bugger?!”

Your barefoot feet touched the floor of your room as you ran to your window, watching with bright eyes and an excited smile as your next-door neighbor and best friend, Ashton, was already waiting for you, all dressed up in his bathers.

“C’mon! We don’t have all day!” He yelled again. You rolled your eyes.

“I’ll be there in 5 minutes!”

You closed your window and headed to the bathroom where you carefully prepared your bathing suit the night before when Anne-Marie came to ask your mother if you and Ash could have a playdate today. More specifically, Ashton was really excited to play with the sprinkler they just got to water the plants, and since neither of them got a swimming pool, he thought it’d be the best idea to combat the Australian heat that way.

Once your teeth were brushed, your hair combed, and your bathing suit on, you were ready to take on summer with your best friend. You ran downstairs to the kitchen, putting on your flip-flops and grabbing your strawberry shortcake backpack before grabbing a cookie from the counter.

“Bye mum!” You called, before heading toward the backyard door.

“Not so fast, young lady!” Your mother’s voice could be heard from the other side of the kitchen.

You sighed as you turned around. Looking defeatedly at the ground as you made your way to her. She stood tall with a crooked brow upon her face, pursing her lips as if she asked you a question even though she never did.

“What’d you got there, sweetie?” She asked, pointing her head toward you but to nothing in particular.

“Uh…”

“Didn’t we talk already about making healthier choices from now on?” She sighed, grabbing the cookie from your hand and giving you an orange instead. “Last year we let it go because of everything that was going on, but you need to start thinking about taking care of yourself, okay?” You nodded.

It wasn’t difficult to understand what she meant. You ate your vegetables and fruits, except bananas and the weird food grandma made that had seeds in it. But it was summer, and she made those cookies yesterday so, who was going to eat them, then?

“Good.” She smiled, cupping your face and placing a small kiss on your forehead “You’ll look so pretty when you grow up, I promise. Now, go play! But be back before sunset!”

“Alright!”

Your smile came back to your face as you walked and peeled the orange, crossing the backyard and opening the fence’s gate that connected your house to Ash’s. There, he was sitting on the ground looking attentively at the gate.

“Finally!” He groaned “I don’t know if you know what 5 minutes are but those were not it”

You chuckled “Sorry! Orange slice?”

“Thanks,” He smiled, getting a whole one in his mouth as he spoke, or tried to, at least “Nough checkth thith outh!”

He walked to the side of the house where he connected the sprinkler to the hose. And suddenly it was like a cascade of rain was falling over you. You squeaked in delight and giggled as you got completely soaked in under a second, watching in awe as the water rose to incredible heights for an eight-year-old and drew shapes in the sky before it fell down over you.

Ashton came running, jumping over the sprinkler and laughing as it moved around, creating new shapes that would soon cover the whole yard in water. You joined him immediately, allowing the water to soak away the heat of the first of many memorable summer days that year.

You played all day and all afternoon. Anne-Marie brought you sandwiches for lunch and stayed with you for a while, even playing with you as she held a small, baby Lauren in her arms, letting her enjoy the water as well. You and Ash would create the most bizarre adventures, imagining you were pirates having a final battle at a waterfall (his idea), pretending you were water fairies (your idea), and trying to see who could outrun the water (both your ideas, neither of you could win).

By the end of the day, you were both exhausted laying on the grass, giggling.

“I don’t want summer to be over!” He said, exaggeratingly throwing his arms to the sky to let them drop to the ground.

“Today’s the first day,”

“But that means one day less!”

“True…” You sighed “Maybe one day we can live on a permanent vacation. Where we don’t have to go to school or work”

“What do you want to be when you grow up?” Ashton asked, turning toward you.

“Like a real job or my dream job?”

“Aren’t those the same?”

“My mom doesn’t think so. At least she says my dream job is not a real job here so it won’t work”

“Your dream job, then”

“I want to be a singer,” You said, smiling.

Ashton looked confused “But that’s a real job!”

“My mom says it’s not” You shrugged “And I haven’t thought about my real job yet. So what about you?”

“I want to be in a band,” Ashton said with a confident nod “And I’m going to make it my real job”

“Can I be in your band?” You asked.

“Sure! You’re my best friend, of course, you can be in it! Now we only need someone who can play the guitar”

That day you went to bed with a smile on your face.

* I hear it in your voice You're smoking with your boys I touch my phone as if it's your face

17 years old

You halt at the door, take off one of your headphones, and turning back.

“What?”

Your mother, already huffing her way out to meet you halfway, rolled her eyes.

“I said, what are you wearing?”

“Clothes, mom” You answered, tiredly “I’m going to school, you know? The one I’m going to be late to if I don’t catch the bus?”

“Are you sure you don’t want to change?” She tilted her head, “It looks like that’s one of my shirts and-”

“It’s my shirt, mom. We bought it last week” She seemed to have something else to say but you just didn’t have the energy to hear it “I’m gonna be late, bye”

You put back your headphones again, letting Paramore silence the outside world as you walked in the opposite direction to the bus stop. No, you were not going to skip, but the words your mother didn’t say were clinging to the back of your heads like nails, so what if the normal fifteen-minute ride turned into a forty-minute walk? You had time, and plus, the windy morning could really help dry the tears that were already gathering in your eyes.

Crying is not something you did and you were not about to start now. You just got to toughen up, take her words with a grain of salt and keep going. It's not like you’re not making an effort. Is just that for her it is hard to see it since there’s no progress to be shown as fast as she would like.

You’re not in bad shape at all; you’re not a bad kid; your grades are good. It’s just that perfection has a standard in her eyes that you just haven't met yet.

Brick by Brick played for the third time in a loop before you got to school with a few minutes to spare. You smiled at a few of your classmates that you saw in the hallway and went to your locker, opening it to get the things you needed for your first class.

“Hey, you!” A familiar voice said next to you.

You smiled softly as you mindlessly handed Ashton your bag.

“Hey, Ash. Just one moment, please?”

He shrugged as he leaned against the lockers, watching as you put an oversized sweater over your clothes.

“We’re in Australia in April”

“I’m cold”

“Well, it is the year of the end of the world…” You rolled your eyes as you grabbed your bag from him and started to walk together to your first class “Icebergs will melt, the desert will freeze, kangaroos will take over the world-”

“Oh, I would be long dead before a kangaroo tried to fight me” You laughed.

“I’ll defend you!”

“So that our mothers could bury us next to one another? How charming”

The bell rang just in time for the two of you to take your seats. Biology would be the only class you’d share that day and you won’t be seeing each other again until lunchtime rolled around. By that time you were used to losing yourself in thought, especially on days like these where somehow nothing seemed to fit. Or was it because you felt misplaced? You would watch your classmates, smile at them, and make idle talk. You would take notes for your classes and answer the questions the teachers make. But there wasn’t a future here, nothing that seemed to last or that would make you want to stay.

Weekdays were routine that you would soon forget come the weekend. And now the desolated two-day break felt more like the same futile attempt to make something meaningful without succeeding at it. Looking at the window from your room made no sense anymore knowing that Ashton was most likely somewhere else entirely.

At the end of last year, some boy from another school messaged him on facebook asking him to play a gig with them. Since then, Ashton has joined their little band called 5 seconds of summer. A playful name for a band of high schoolers.

You’ve met them a few times and have watched them play whenever they had a gig near town. They were good and were rapidly growing a loyal fanbase with their youtube videos. But their ambition was bigger than just a hobby, and you could see it not just in the way Ashton talked about them, but in the gleam in their eyes every time they hung out or when they played. They were something else and they were ready for more.

However, that didn’t take away the fact that you missed your best friend.

“Earth to Y/N?”

“Huh?” You woke up from your thoughts in the middle of the cafeteria.

Ashton was sitting next to you, a concerned look in his eyes.

“Are you going to finish your lunch?” He said, pointing to your barely touched tray.

“Uh, no. You can have it”

“You’ve barely eaten”

“I’m not hungry” You shook your head, already sliding the tray to him “And you didn’t bring anything again”

He sighed “I forgot… No, I think I put my lunch in Harry’s lunch box again”

“Lucky him, then” You smiled “You’re still driving me home after school and to Mulligan’s later tonight, right?”

Ashton stopped chewing, closing his eyes as he swallowed thickly. Your smile fell.

“Ash-”

“I’m sorry!”

“Ash, you promised-”

“I know! I know, I’m a dickhead!” He said with regret the moment he saw how sad you looked. “But I promised Calum that I would sneak him out of soccer practice to go rehearse at Michael’s for our gig on Saturday and I completely forgot! I’m so, so sorry Y/N”

A sharp pain went through your heart as you took a deep breath before nodding. You looked down to avoid looking him in the eye, knowing that those puppy, hazel eyes would make you weak in an instant. Your thumbs twiddled with each other under the table, trying to take some of the tension away and distract you from the moment. It was no big deal. It was okay.

“It’s okay”

Ashton was not fooled by the whisper in your voice. “Y/N-”

“It’s okay, Ash. Really” You said more firmly this time, looking at him but not directly at his eyes “I can walk myself home, I need the sunlight anyway. And we can do Mulligan’s another day if you’d-”

“No,” Ash shook his head, “I said I’d be there and I will. I can cut the rehearsal short and I’ll meet you guys there! I will not miss it, alright? After all, you can’t wait for the midnight of your birthday another day, silly”

You smiled as you rolled your eyes, letting his arms wrap around your shoulders and bringing you closer to him, wondering if he can feel just how fast is beating.

* (9:25 PM) me: Ash, I’m already at the bar. I was late lol. So it’s okay if you wanted to stay longer with the boys

(9:55 PM) me: are you on ur way? I ordered us some beers ;) I finally got to use my ID

(10:30 PM) me: I drank ur beer

(11:30 PM) me: you’re not coming, are you?

*

There were two rings before he picked up the call.

“Ash, where are you?” You said into the night air and into the phone. Your classmates were inside the bar, waiting for you to sing happy birthday. But there were still five minutes to go and the person that said would be there was nowhere to be found.

“I- I am Ash,” He said before he exploded in giggles, followed by a fading chorus of familiar laughs at the other side of the line.

Then it hit you. He was still at Michael’s. He never left.

“Ashton, are you- are you high?”

Another explosive set of laughter hit you as an answer. You ended the call. The picture you took at the beginning of the year, with Ashton carrying you on his back as you both wink and make peace signs at the camera, mocks you as you try your hardest to be stoic for yourself.

You looked up to the moon and took a deep breath before coming back to the bar, an already perfect fake smile plastered all over your face as your classmates sang happy birthday at the top of their lungs, half of them already drunk. You didn’t know smiling could hurt that much till then.

By the end of the night, you tried your hardest to ignore the random comments that you happened to hear.

“Where’s Ash?” Someone would ask

“I heard he simply didn’t want to come,” Someone else answered. You didn’t know if to believe them.

The next day you woke up with a thousand messages of apologies and a notebook wrapped in wooden paper.

“For all the songs you’re gonna write”

Anyway

* I wait patiently He's gonna notice me It's okay, we're the best of friends

21 years old

To put it simply, L. A was a fucking nightmare.

Nowhere in the world have you seen such hypocrites smiling at each other like they were best friends all their lives. People were getting high in the backyard by the pool; couples cheating on each other in the same house; every up and coming having their realities shatter in front of their eyes as they realize what their dream industry actually is. And all of that is happening inside your own house in Beverly hills. Yes, you left the outbacks of Australia behind to chase the dreams you fought bravely to make come true. And without anyone’s help, you made it.

You went to college to please your mom, but finding your joy after Ashton had left soon after graduating high school was not easy. However, in order to pay some of your debts, you started working at the same bar you and your classmates used to hang out at. Cleaning tables and serving drinks was not as exciting as it sounded, but what really made it worth it was the open mic nights where anyone could come and present a bit of stand-up comedy or original songs to the public. That’s where you found your escape. Quite literally.

Soon, you were discovered, signed, and shipped off to Los Angeles where success has been modest but impressive for someone with such a short career. But dreams are not easy to maintain.

To have a dream in the city of dreamers is to be a fish in an ocean. Not rare and not exceptional either. It was intimidating and scary, all the more doing it all by yourself in a country where no one seemed to be your friend. People here knew of you, but they didn’t know you at all. Not really.

Maybe you don’t know yourself either.

“Y/N!”

Once again, a voice pulled you from your own thoughts and into your party again. From afar you noticed Calum’s wide smile as he headed toward you, pushing through the sea of people.

The only ones you know here in L.A are the ones that got away years before you did and were creating havoc among the younger fans. 5 Seconds of Summer was an absolute hit, and they were barely staying at the same place for more than four weeks straight, but you were thankful anytime they did. They were your friends or at least acquaintances except for Ash. They reminded you of home, and one person, in particular, reminded you that there was more than that to hang on to.

“Cal!” You called, hugging him as soon as he came close “I’m so glad you could make it. I have no idea who any of these people are! Where are the others?”

Calum shrugged “Michael got dragged by someone already. Luke… is complicated”

“And Ash?”

You didn’t want to sound hopeful. You didn’t want to give anything away with the tone of your voice or the way your eyes begged you to look around for him, see if he just got lost among the crowd.

“He said he’d come” Calum said, pretending not to know how you feel “You know how he is. Sometimes he says one thing…”

“To change it at the last minute.” You sighed “I hate that about him”

“It’s Ashton”

“I asked him to come and help me with the recording of some drums at the studio last week, did he tell you?” He shook his head “He said that what I was doing “wasn’t really his thing” so maybe I should just call someone else”

“He said that to you?” Calum said in disbelief.

You nodded “He’s been a real asshole lately. And I did get someone else in the end, but…”

“Yeah, I get it. It’s the principle”

But it was not just that. The Ashton you met at school was not the same Ashton you found as an adult. And yes, people are bound to change and you have changed a lot as well, but looking back it makes you question whether this person made changes to keep themselves in your life or to make themselves a memory of what once was a good old time. And you were scared Ashton could become the latter.

For many years, Ashton was the only one by your side, or at least that’s what you knew of. When he left for London all those years ago, you were happy that he could chase all those dreams he once shared with you in your backyard as little kids. But once you caught on with life and fate decided that it was time to meet again, it was like there were already so many people beside him that you felt out of frame. You were his friend first. But maybe he forgot.

“Ooop, he just texted” Calum chimed in, sipping on his drink “He’s right outside, I told him we’re hiding in the kitchen”

You chuckled as your fingers drummed nervously on top of the counter, trying your hardest not to look at the door. Not yet, don’t let him see you waiting for him. Just one moment more-

“What the fuck?”

Calum’s whisper made your eyebrows turn into a frown as you followed his gaze. Oh, how you wish you didn’t.

Entering your kitchen filled with people was Ashton, a smile so shy and welcoming at the same time, hand in hand with one of the most gorgeous girls you’ve ever seen in your life. Your smile flattered for one second.

“I guess he’s not with Jess anymore…” Muttered Calum. Jess? Who was Jess? And who was this girl if Calum didn’t know?

Your heart grew heavy as the air around you thickened, yet you couldn’t tear your eyes away from them. From afar, Ashton noticed you - or he noticed Calum, you didn’t know - and raised his hand to say hi and kept walking into another room with his new girl following him.

That’s it? Not even a proper hello? This is your house, your party… A sunken feeling enveloped you as you excused yourself to the bathroom, ignoring the pointed look Calum gave you as he let you go without asking questions.

The music was muffled inside the tiled walls. You locked the doors and went to the sink, leaning over it with your hands on either side of the counter. A shaky breath escaped your lips as you counted to ten over and over again, repeating to yourself that you were okay. You were okay, or you would be. You had to be.

As you raised your head, the mirror showed the reflection of a girl whose eyes beat red from tears she refused to shed. You could not be that girl tonight.

So you smiled at your reflection, practicing what muscle memory taught you good girls do when things don’t go their way. You smiled and fixed your hair, and smiled again. It didn’t matter that the image that kept playing inside your head was his hands tangled in hers. It didn’t matter that he didn’t even say hello. This was not about him nor your broken heart. You had to keep going so you had to smile. It’s not the first time it happened, you should be used to it by now.

One last deep breath and you opened the door, going back to the party. But as you made your way back into the kitchen, you bumped into someone going in the opposite direction.

“Woah! Hey, Y/N!” He said, smiling as he hugged you like he used to do.

For a moment you let yourself forget where you were and be hugged by him, letting the smell of his cologne be tattooed somewhere in your brain.

“Hi, Ash”

“How- hey, are you crying?”

“What?” You blinked a couple of times “Oh, no! One eyelash fell into my eye and I had to get it out, you know how that makes me-”

“Yeah, you get weirded out by eyes” He cringed.

An awkward silence set between the two of you, not knowing what to say now that is just the two of them. But you… Oh, you could say so much, you just didn’t know where to start. You wanted to ask about the tour, how it went and what was his favorite place to visit. You were dying to mention their new songs and how they made you feel. You wanted to ask about his family, how is Anne-Marie? Is Harry doing well in school? Has Lauren started high school yet and how does she like it? Do they still live in the same house you grew up with? Do they know the memories you shared? Do they even remember you?

Does Ash?

But standing in front of him you felt as if you had no right to ask those questions anymore. Ashton was not looking at you anymore, but at his phone, even when you were right there. Does he not have any curiosity toward you as much as you have about him? Does he not care?

You used to be best friends. You still were, right?

Yet, those questions were never asked as you just turned and kept walking. And when you looked back you noticed that Ashton hadn’t moved, hadn't noticed you were gone.

And if while you were looking you noticed some freshly made hickeys on the back of his neck, then you decided to ignore that as well.

(3:07 PM) me: saw two kids in a backyard playing mermaids with a sprinkler today. we never had that idea before (6:20 PM) ash 😜: i would've never consented to mermaids, mind you (6:30 PM) me: are you sure? (6:32 PM) ash 😜: nah, i would end up with a tail in the end (6:40 PM) me: do you miss it?

* From sprinkler splashes to fireplace ashes I waited ages to see you there I search the party of better bodies Just to learn that you never cared

25 years old

“Why am I not surprised?” Ashton laughed.

You didn’t notice his presence until he was standing in between you and the firepit in the backyard. He was wearing a shirt and a trenchcoat, lightly mocking your shivering figure as you sat outside on the last night of 2019.

“I don’t like parties” You answered.

“You never did,” Ashton said, sitting next to you “But that doesn’t give you the right to catch hypothermia”

“We live in L.A”

“Still,”

“I’m practicing”

“For what?” Ashton chuckled.

“Scotland,” You said, turning to look at him.

“Scotland? You’re gonna visit someone there, or?” He smiled, nervously.

“I’m moving there”

Ashton laughed loudly, “Bullshit!”

But you didn’t laugh along with him. Instead, you looked at him as the penny dropped and then moved your gaze to the fire again, finding comfort in the chaos. The only constant thing in your life.

Ashton blinked at you, elbowing you “You’re bullshiting me, Y/N”

You didn’t move, instead, you answered him in a monotone voice “Why would I?”

“What the fuck are you going to do in Scotland?!”

“The same, I guess?” You shrugged “I bought a house with a studio, my label has a branch there, I don’t do much touring so-”

“Were you going to tell me?!”

At this, you turn to him, almost as if to ask if he was serious.

“It’s not funny, Ash”

“The fuck is not! Of course not!” He shouted, getting up from his seat. The frown on his face deepened “You’re fucking moving away and you didn’t tell me?!”

“Why would I tell you?”

“Because we’re friends!”

At this, you couldn’t help but laugh. Like, actually, wholeheartedly laugh. Tears were at the corners of your eyes by the end of the laughing fit, even more so when you saw Ashton’s confused face standing in front of you.

Once you composed yourself, you shook your head.

“You can’t be serious right now”

“Y/N-”

“Honestly, Ashton. This- this is not funny, at all” You said, smile still on your face but your eyes getting redder as the tears gathered “You can’t- You can’t just come around every two years or so with a conversation and then yell at me and say that we’re friends as if you know what that means. No. Not with me, I- I won’t let it happen anymore”

You shook your head as a chuckle escaped your lips. “Ashton, tell me, right now. What’s the name of my cat?” He parted his lips but no words came out “What’s the name of my latest single?” Again, no answer “What’s the career I studied in uni before I came to the states?” By now, Ashton was looking down in shame “Ash, when is my birthday?”

That last answer broke your heart completely. You were hoping, wishing that at least that one he would get right. But his silence only confirmed what your heart knew. You closed your eyes as the tears finally slid down your cheeks, tired of being kept hidden all those years.

“Y/N-”

“No,” You raised your hand to stop him from saying anything else, “If it’s an apology I don’t want to hear it because it’s a little too late for that. Ashton, you have no idea what is like to have no one in your corner, and I pray that you never get to experience that. But all my life- all my life I’ve been waiting to be someone’s priority and when I finally put myself first, you come and try to berate me for it. I hate L.A. I had since the moment I came here. You had Calum, Luke and Michael, and countless other people to make you feel welcomed! but me? I had no one!”

All the feelings that were silenced over the years came crashing through. Unfiltered and uncensored. Like the fire in front of you, ready to spread out.

“And I tried to fit in. When I invited you and the guys and all of your friends, I wanted to make you feel that maybe I can still be part of this life as well! But they aren’t my friends, they’re yours. And you made no effort to even include me in your life as if I was someone that you tolerated from the past that’s long dead and gone. You have my memories, Ash. You have the same scars that I do, the same laughs, and the same tears from when we were kids till we were out of high school. We shared the same dreams and even though I knew you would make them more easily I prayed to god to take me where you would go because I knew that my place was with you, it didn’t matter where or how. I just wanted to be with my best friend, even if with time my best friend didn’t want to be my best friend anymore”

“Y/N,” His voice was small, fragile “That’s not true”

“Don’t lie!” You yelled through the tears “You’re being mean, Ash! You left me behind. You left me! And I’m still here, I was always here and you couldn’t see me, or you didn’t want to see me. You didn’t care! Could you look me in the eyes and tell me you didn’t know everything that was going on when we were kids?”

Ashton tried to keep his gaze up with yours but couldn’t, quickly looking away with guilt. You pressed your lips in a thin line as you nodded.

“I loved you, so so much. And I hate you for making me feel so unloved, so small and unimportant. I don’t think I can shake this now, and I don’t know if I can forgive you for making me hate myself this much when I did nothing to you”

You knew your words hurt him, but there was nothing you could say to take them back. You didn’t want to take them back.

You wiped your tears with the back of your hand and started walking back to the party, ready to ask an uber to drive you home.

Ashton didn’t follow, you knew he wouldn’t. And for the first time in years, you were glad he didn’t.

* (05:25 AM) Ashton Irwin: can we talk, please?

This number has been blocked from your contacts

* ‘Cause there were pages turned with the bridges burned Everything you lose is a step you take So make the friendship bracelets Take the moment and taste it You've got no reason to be afraid

28 years old

“You’re on your own kid, you always have been” You sang the last part of the acoustic set of your last album as the crowd went wild. You smiled at the small room, just a small acoustic session to start off the new era of songs about growth and finding yourself again after years of learning how to heal.

“There are many things in life that leave scars, things that we automatically assume about ourselves like muscle memory,” You said into the mic “For years we look for who to blame, and most of the time we carry that blame within ourselves and make ourselves believe that we are not worthy of beautiful things in the world. But I learned that even though these wounds and scars are mine, they don't own me as a person, they do not define me nor who I will become later in life. None of us are less deserving of love or the beautiful things in life just because we’ve struggled. And I-”

The words are stuck inside your throat for a moment, just a moment as your eyes make contact with the person standing in the corner of the room.

His arms are crossed over his chest, his smile is timid and a bit scared. But his eyes, although mature, kept that hazel glow that you’ve recognized anywhere. Even when years have passed.

“I will make my best to remind you how beautiful you all are” * * Tags: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @mystic-232 @talksoprettyjjx @theshyspy @hoodhoran @hoodharlow @littledrummeraussie @wastelandcth @bubblegum183 @irwin-fletcher-ash @wiiildflowerrr @in-a-world-of-fandoms @another-lonely-heart @aabc5sauce @in-superbloom @sadcupofcoffee @personalmuyverypersonal @vtte @as-hs-blog @himbohood @sofiaaraee @irwindoll @weasleytwinscumslut @fairytrice @colourfulcal @nibin0912 @hfkait @savagejane1 @youneedtocalumdown @pvnkcloud @ashtonsunflower @nicebasscalum @calumspupils @secretsicanthideanymore@alltimesos @wontlastimokwiththatt @cncoangelsss @whywontyoulovemecami @theimpossiblehologramtree @perriexed @abiancajg @rewmuslupin @icelily13 @bookthingz @lendeluxe

[mariocki]

New Scotland Yard: Fire in a Honey Pot (1.8, LWT, 1972)

"You make it sound very convincing."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Your Mr. Logan was seen at the club on the afternoon before it burnt."

"Oh, now, don't ask me what could have taken him there, to a place like that."

"You mean you've never heard of the protection business?"

"Isn't that what you're in?"

[artytaeh]

honeymoon!Mattheo? Also I'm so obsessed with your pages aesthetic, especially since I've been on this app for like 3 years and just changed my profile picture... anyways adore you and your writing <3

this is so sweet! i melt everytime i reread this rq, i swear. tysm for reading my posts and accompanying my writing, also for requesting 🌷 honeymoon!theo was a silly shower thought— i didn't plan to do a version of it. however, since you're asking, i just can't say no; so i hope that you like it, love! ♡

warnings: includes smut, so obviously it's advised for +18 readers; read at your own risk. brief mentions of trauma from being the son of bellatrix lestrange + the dark lord.

honeymoon!mattheo who felt like these next two weeks outside england, just the two of you, were like a blessing after your wedding day— don't get me wrong, mattheo riddle feels like the luckiest motherfucker to have been the one to marry you, the man who put that ring on your finger and to see you walking down the aisle to him. even so, fucking hell, how can a celebration for your marriage be so, so exhausting for the two of you? mattheo himself begged you to take off those heels; it was paining him to see you in them after so many hours, really!

honeymoon!mattheo who was ecstatic at the idea of going out of the country with you, of all people. sure, he's been out of england: he studied at hogwarts, which is in scotland; italy too, courtesy of theodore's invitations to spend a few weeks or most of the summer break at his family's estate; that one time that draco bragged about his wealth and took all of his friends to spend weekends or some days somewhere through europe. but travelling with you? that's different. this isn't a vacation with the boys; he's on his way to enjoy two paradisical weeks with the love of his life— just. the. two. of you.

honeymoon!mattheo who planned these vacations with you — where do you wanna go? how long would you like to stay? would you rather somewhere to rest and do nothing, or travelling around? truthfully, mattheo had his own preferences; as fun as it is to explore new places and unraveling different cultures, mattheo was a bit (a lot more) into seeing you in bikini most of the day. visiting a city or some nearby mexican tourist attraction is totally fine by him; a few were chosen by the two of you during a rainy day, cuddling on the sofa as you and him daydream about the sound of waves, sunny days and heat tanning your skins. with a laptop in front of you, mattheo checklists and makes notes of whatever was decided that day.

honeymoon!mattheo who jumps straight to the bed as soon as you arrive to the hotel's bedroom. soon, strong arms pull you close to him; mattheo spends some minutes like this with you, cuddling and feeling you close, nevermind how warm it is in mexico during this time of the year, not giving a flying fuck if you two are sweaty. mattheo riddle needs to rest after so many bloody hours inside a plane, and dealing with the airport's burocracy. fuck, there's a fucking spell for everything in the wizarding world, how come no one found a better way to travel between two continents already?!

honeymoon!mattheo who has his arm around your waist at all times. walking together? mattheo is there, hugging your waist, matching his usual long strides to your calmer pace, making sure that you're the one leading the speed of your walk. taking a stroll on a nearby city or exploring the streets? mattheo riddle won't unwrap his arm from your waist, fingers gently tracing the curve of your side, as you two comment about the beautiful streets you walk by and how good all of these restaurants smell. and, well, if his arm becomes bothersome because of the heat, mattheo is happy to hold your hand— as soon as it becomes sweaty, mattheo himself moves to your other side, to take your other hand in his, nevermind if he has to repeat this ritual every five minutes.

honeymoon!mattheo who drags you to play on the beach with him! this man will proudly buy a kid's kit for himself: a set with beach toys, including a bucket, shovels and other stuff to build castles on the damp sand. obviously, the set is green, if there's that color option— hey, all of those years as a slytherin, wearing a green tie on a daily basis, got him a little attached to the color, alright?!

honeymoon!mattheo who looks like a man preparing himself to go to war, as you patiently massage the sunscreen on his face, warm shoulders and back, along with the rest of his body; you don't trust your husband to apply the sunscreen correctly, since mattheo is all too impatient to go have fun. he does the same to you, of course; pulling you to his lap, big hands making sure that your smooth thighs are protected by the sunscreen— maybe a little too much, since you grow suspicious that mattheo caresses your thighs for a moment longer than necessary. hey, he's a man in love; can't a husband appreciate his wife's beautiful body?!

honeymoon!mattheo who lowkey tries to learn how to speak spanish, or at least simple phrases; thank you, hello, please, and perhaps being a little more observant to catch a curse word or two. god forbid mattheo catches on how to compliment you— now, each time you show your outfit, smile or do something as simple as existing near mattheo riddle, he grins and dramatically pronounces: 'guapissima! bonita, muy bonita.' — sneaking a squeeze on your bottom, pressing your body closer to his. you'd be at least a little annoyed, if mattheo's bambi eyes weren't so full of love for you. you know he means every single praise that rolls out of his mouth.

honeymoon!mattheo who sleeps a little more peacefully now, in mexico, far away from london and the looming notion of his ancestry. here, a continent away from his lunatic of a mother, oceans away from the knowledge of being the dark lord's son, mattheo riddle relaxes. you're married now; away from the chaos. during your wedding day, mattheo was terrified that something would tarnish this happiness with you. being physically away from all of that, on a country where no one blinks an eye at the surname riddle, mattheo is able to relax and let go of the overthinking habit he created since childhood. mattheo riddle isn't a cursed child anymore— at least not here with you.

honeymoon!mattheo who buys a lot of souvenirs. at least for theodore, he gets something that he knows that his best friend would find funny too; perhaps one or two things for his slytherin friends. then a lot of bracelets, or whatever the fuck you happen to stare for a few seconds. sundresses become part of your wardrobe, too, since mattheo argues that is sinful to not have you wearing such flattering clothes, choosing colors that you like the most, and compliment you the best.

🗯️ : matt, this is the third dress you're about to buy for me. i already have enough!

m : nonsense. you don't have any on this color, do you? besides, it's fancy to say 'hey, see this dress? my husband got it for me from mexico'; i'm helping you to brag, woman!

honeymoon!mattheo who hugs you from behind in the pool, trailing kisses from your left shoulder, cheek, neck, shoulder blades, until he does the same to the other side. he's not even attempting to convince you to lustful things— mattheo is just so in love with you. should an older couple or bitter tourists side-eye any of you, mattheo will kiss your cheek for a moment longer, staring menacingly to whoever is nosy enough to notice him and his wife. mattheo riddle, as always, doesn't even have to open his mouth; his serious expression and dark eyes being enough of a warning. as soon as they avert their gaze, mattheo goes back to the task at hand: kissing every inch of you with that silly little smile of his.

honeymoon!mattheo who takes full advantage of the jacuzzi on your bedroom. you should have expected it, as soon as dark eyes shine with mischief, a wolfish grin on his lips as mattheo riddle inevitably plans ahead— hours later, you'll find out exactly what was going through that devilish mind of his.

honeymoon!mattheo who is safe to say that fully enjoyed the warm water at night— calloused hands placed on your hips, thumbs brushing soothing circles on your hipbones as mattheo takes in the sight of you, naked on top of him, guiding your movements as you bounce on his length. mattheo fights the urge to tilt his head back and close his eyes, wanting to drown himself in the sensation of you so tight, so warm and wet around him— but then, he'd lose the bewitching vision of you, so mattheo bites his lip while his hands move lower and lower, greedily squeezing your bottom, hands full of the smooth, soft skin. mattheo watches you so intensely, that you're almost shy under his gaze; his strong arms embrace you so close to him, lips bruising the skin of your neck, collarbone, chest (and for a moment, you wonder if wearing a bikini would be safe tomorrow, giving each reddening, becoming purple hickey left on you) as he whispers against your wet skin. 'so pretty— such a good girl for me, aren't you? riding your husband so, so well. so wet and tight for me, huh? moan for me, baby. let me hear all of your pretty moans, hm?'

honeymoon!mattheo who is so gentle with you afterwards. without even having to ask, mattheo carried you back to the bedroom, patting your body with gentle movements so that the towel absorbs the water from your body, cooing at you. despite your tired demeanor, sore legs recovering on the comfortable mattress— mattheo riddle is all too energetic and blissfully satisfied, massaging your smooth skin with a body cream of yours; and trust me, it takes everything within him to not tease you, holding back any 'fun' comments about you after three rounds that got you absolutely wrecked.

honeymoon!mattheo who dedicated a part of these few days to read one of your favorite books. you see, mattheo riddle isn't really one to take reading as a hobby; at most, mattheo would have fun spending the afternoon at some bookstores to read bd, mainly about superheroes, or the ones that blaise brought from school breaks to lend to him. apart from that, mattheo's hobbies mostly revolve around drawing or listening to music— but he's making an effort for you, alright?! he is! look, he read five pages today, while you were tanning!

honeymoon!mattheo who brought a camera with him for the sole purpose to have photos with you during these weeks; as much as he adores all of your wedding photos, either with you, his best friends and other guests— this honeymoon with you must have physical evidence, not wanting to depend on his memory alone. mattheo plans to show most of them (*cough* the appropriate ones) to your children, if you ever have kids together, that is. the camera and him are present at the same place, at all times; like symbiosis, mattheo has the camera by his side to never lose the opportunity of a good photo of you.

photos of you while you're sleeping, dressing up or changing clothes, while you're relaxing on a chair near the pool to tan, swimming, at night with a flower tucked on your hair— one that mattheo picked up for you and fixed behind your ear. mattheo riddle will come back home with enough photos to decorate a wall. there's photos of you two together, too; silly selfies with you, some of them while you're sleeping by his side or on his chest, others blissfully taken by other tourists who offered such a favor. mattheo loves every single one of them.

honeymoon!mattheo who discovered that breakfast could be delivered in bedroom, four days after waking up a little earlier to shower, dress up and go downstairs to have the first meal of the day. ever since mattheo discovered such a wonder, never again— fuck that. he's having breakfast on the bed with you, requesting the staff to put an extra portion of your favorite fruits, which he'd then feed to you while the two of you are lazying on the bed after a shower, talking about whatever.

honeymoon!mattheo who suddenly doesn't hate that much anymore. at hogwarts, first years were a headache; little tiny humans that mattheo had to be careful to not bump against, or else they'd fall to the floor and god forbid professor mcgonagall saw it, should anyone accuse him of bullying. first years were also troublesome at the bloody hogwarts' train, running around like hipper active insects— however, this one little boy that came running up to you, giving you a flower? mattheo riddle couldn't help but smile, a smug grin on his lips as he crouches down:

m : hey, little dude— this beautiful woman is taken. hasn't your mother told you that flirting with a married woman is wrong? the husband might get you in trouble, you know.

honeymoon!mattheo who would complain a little less about the kids running around or simply existing around the hotel. there was this one little girl he saw at the pool, while you were getting drinks; curly hair, soft cheeks that remind him of your beautiful face— mattheo riddle is a weak man, and ever since then... baby fever. suddenly, the idea of a tiny human that is the perfect mixture of you and him, doesn't sound so scary anymore. i mean, if you and him ever had a baby, it'd be the most beautiful kid to exist; mattheo reasons that not having such a blessed child would be illegal, a heartbreaking loss to this world! (correction: a small sized demon that inherits mattheo riddle's troublemaker nature, and your charm that'll get them out of trouble ever. single. time.)

honeymoon!mattheo who tries at least once every single drink and cocktail at the bar. and more than that, makes you try them with him, which becomes a game of creating a tier list of the whole menu. mattheo will get you the colorful ones, being aware of your taste— and should you dislike alcoholic drinks, well, mattheo is a man that is unknowingly considerate, making sure to taste the drink first (so that he's sure that it tastes good, according to your preferences, of course), before giving it to you. lowkey, mattheo riddle who becomes a bit obsessed with those drinks straight from the coconuts— he might have like, seven photos of that, some of them being selfies with you.

honeymoon!mattheo who takes you dancing. hands on your hips, feeling as you sway them, gripping at them each time that mattheo riddle has to take a deep breath to not get a hard-on in the middle of the dancefloor. if possible, he'll learn how to dance the bachata with you— be it by a free class at the hotel or some bar, or even just by staring at an experienced couple dancing with ease. mattheo would be so happy to dance with you, twirling you around and pulling you closer to him, your noses brushing as mattheo looks at you with such intensity; the love of his life, this goddess in his arms. physically can't listen to one of those latino songs without immediately pulling you to dance a little with him; fuck the stares that you might receive.

honeymoon!mattheo who wants to live right here, at mexico.

m : fuck england, let's ditch london.

🗯️ : mattheo, darling, we can't do that.

m : why not?! here's the best— no rain, no people bothering us. why can't we just fuck and chill every day like we do here?

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🌿 ’

౨ৎ spend the summer of a lifetime with me ♡ ͡

let me take you to the place of my dreams . . .

🪻 ; . . . fandom : harry potter.

— ever since i posted my masterlist i've been receiving some requests; i didn't expect so many so soon! tysm for reading and requesting to my blog; i'll do my best to write and post each of them asap. ♡

the headers + gifs + icons aren't mine. credits to the respective creators ! 🌷

[twilightcitysky]

Everything Is Meant (long S2 analysis, part 2)

Part one here

Okay, so that's how I think the pre-creation scene and Gabriel's arc connect to Aziraphale's choice. I also think the ineffable bureaucracy speedrun exists to prove totally different things to Aziraphale and Crowley: Aziraphale loves that they can love each other but notes they have to run away to be together; Crowley sees this and immediately thinks "hey, we can do that too!", forgetting that running away is not a solution Aziraphale has ever been interested in. It's the mentality of an individualist vs a group-oriented mind, and neither of them is necessarily wrong, it's just that their priorities are different and they HAVE TO TALK ABOUT IT, which they don't.

Continued analysis under the cut:

3. Let's take the Job minisode. Why include it? We already mentioned that it proves Aziraphale remembers Crowley as an angel, since he mentions it. And he believes Crowley is the same person he always was, and that he doesn't want to harm Job's crops or animals or children. Crowley tries to convince him he's a Big Bad Demon who is all in on this assignment, but fails utterly to kill even a single goat, soooo... Aziraphale comes to the conclusion that he knows what Crowley wants. Alert! Alert! This is a big problem! Crowley says, "What do you know about what I want?" Aziraphale: "I know you." Crowley: "You do not know me." But because Aziraphale got it right this time, he goes ahead assuming he'll always get it right, which is a crucial failure when it comes to the final reckoning. He doesn't ever ASK Crowley what he wants, he just assumes. When you assume you know what someone wants, you usually assume their priorities align with yours... he couldn't be more wrong about that. The Job minisode sets up this dynamic for them, and they never really manage to change it.

The other thing happens at the end of the minisode. Crowley acknowledges two crucial points: 1) he's lonely ("But you said it wasn't!" "I'm a demon. I lied"), 2) he doesn't think Aziraphale would like Hell. Aziraphale DOESN'T like Hell. Aziraphale hates Hell for what they've done to Crowley. He doesn't see Heaven as innocent or benign, but importantly, Heaven has never tried to hurt Crowley directly. They never threatened his safety. They never tortured him (as it's heavily implied that Hell did). Fast forward to the last ten mins of season 2: Aziraphale excited to tell Crowley that he can be an angel again BECAUSE: he never has to go back to Hell. They can never hurt him again, not the way they did before. And he doesn't have to be lonely anymore.

Last point before I leave Job: Crowley has the chance to cause Aziraphale to Fall, here, probably. ("I lied to Heaven to thwart the will of God!" "You did, but I'm not going to tell anybody. Are you? ...good, then nothing has to change.") He doesn't take it. He doesn't want Aziraphale to be a demon. He loves Aziraphale as he is. "Angel" as an affectionate. Aziraphale certainly doesn't use "demon" as a pet name for Crowley. I think they set up this scene to contrast the final one, and show how deeply hurt Crowley is that Aziraphale suggest he change.

4. Moving on to Victorian Scotland. This one confused me at first. I was delighted that they brought back the "the lower you start the more opportunity you have to rise" dialogue from the book, but apart from that I didn't really see the point of it. It seems like the statue of Gabriel and the fact that he and Beelz ended up at that pub in the present were more or less coincidental.

The point, I think, is actually not the girl, but the doctor. He's a person who is trying to do good by working in a system that's deeply flawed, and engaging in questionable moral practices for the greater good. (Cadaver dissection is still an essential part of medical school. You need dead bodies to understand living ones.) He shows Aziraphale a tumor he removed from a child who died, and Aziraphale clutches it to his chest. The camera zooms in and lingers to tell us that this is a guardian through and through. He wants to protect people. He wants to do good with every fiber of his being.

To Crowley, it's enough to just "be an us" with Aziraphale. He doesn't really want anything more than that. That's an issue! For one thing, it fosters unhealthy codependency, and for another, Aziraphale would never be happy without the opportunity to help and protect people. It's an essential part of who he is. Metatron knows that, and he plays Aziraphale like a fiddle. The doctor showed Aziraphale that you can make a difference even in systems that are flawed, and even if you have to do things you'd rather not do. Aziraphale doesn't want to go back to Heaven, but he truly thinks he can change things; thinks he can be a guardian with some real power. In his mind, that's the right thing to do.

Last thing that happens in Scotland: Crowley saves a soul from Hell, arguably, by preventing a suicide. He gets in Big Trouble. Whatever happened to him downstairs resulted in him coming back up, leaning on a cane, and asking Aziraphale to give him holy water. Go back and watch that scene knowing what we know now about the Victorian minisode. Ask yourself how Aziraphale must have felt. He likely blamed himself for what happened, because if he hadn't meddled then they never would have been there in the first place. He knew where Crowley was, and why he was there, and he had to sit with that knowledge for years. He desperately wants Crowley to be safe; is perfectly willing to push him away to keep him safe-- which is what he does do, the minute Crowley gets back.

Now think again about what Metatron offered him. A chance to keep Crowley safe forever. He'd never be harmed again. Aziraphale is going to take that offer, no matter what else is asked of him. He's shown over and over again that he'll sacrifice his own happiness to make sure nothing happens to Crowley. And he'll do it without talking to Crowley about it first, because he is a moron who doesn't know how to use his words. Leading Crowley to assume that Aziraphale doesn't love him. The idiot angel is doing it all out of love, but because he doesn't make himself clear Crowley doesn't know that.

Part 3: Maggie and Nina, and their roles as mirror couple/ Greek chorus!

[thestoryofella]

telephone

summary: after a breakup with Sirius, allowing him to make a move to pursue his music dreams, you find yourself in an exciting game of telephone with his best mates, desperate to find out details of his new life. Unbeknownst to you, there are others involved in this game of telephone. 

warnings: slight angst (happy ending), fluff, miscommunication, two idiots, sfw mentions of sex, swearing

sirius black x reader ✿ 6016 words

Three weeks. That's how long Sirius and you had been broken up. And yet, every day still felt torturous. Your girlfriends had suggested that you try dating again, but you didn't think it was fair to the poor bloke on the other end for you to be so desperately hung up on your ex-boyfriend.

You still remember the day you two had broken up. Sirius had been pursuing music for a few years after graduation as a lead singer and had failed to succeed. It wasn't until a month ago that he'd come bursting through the doors of your shared apartment, saying, "I finally got a gig! Isn't that great?" At that moment, he'd hugged you so hard, peppering your faces with kisses, leaving you both blushing, giggly messes. That was the happiest you'd ever seen him after typically grueling auditions and gigs with low attendance.

It was great, honestly. You were so happy Sirius finally had the opportunity to pursue his dreams. However, what wasn't great was that the gig was in Scotland, with a well-known, but anonymous to you, rock band in Glasgow as their lead singer. You didn't want to ruin his initial excitement, so you'd kept your worries and fears about the location to yourself. When Sirius realized a seven-hour drive to Glasgow from your apartment and a full-time job in London was an issue, you two finally sat down to talk a week after he received the offer. 

He sat with you on your sofa, with cups of tea for you both. Your eyes were red and puffy, as you'd anticipated a breakup as soon as you two had agreed to discuss the upcoming move. After a two-hour-long discussion where Sirius had desperately tried to arrange to come on the weekends and subsequently realized the band schedule was unpredictable–not to mention he didn't have enough money to visit every weekend anyway–and you had realized you couldn't hold back the man you love from his dreams, you two tearfully agreed to call it quits for the sake of a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Today was also the day that Sirius was leaving for Glasgow. Despite being broken up and not talking regularly, he had asked you to come to say goodbye to him at the train station. So, here you were, head buried in the crook of his neck, both his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, inhaling his scent of cigarettes, amber, and cedarwood as you said goodbye to the man you loved. You figured the level of this embrace wasn't appropriate for people who were "just friends" now, but who knows when you'd hug each other again. You hoped this wouldn't be the last time you'd inhale his scent or feel his embrace; you desperately wanted him to stay. You hoped he didn't see the tears on your cheeks as you waved goodbye from the train platform. 

♡ ♡ ♡ 

It had now been a month since Sirius left for Glasgow. You'd been doing okay, better than you initially thought possible. Your heart was still recovering from the heartbreak of a breakup, but you'd been going to work regularly and hanging out with your girlfriends to make up for the loneliness that came with being recently single. You were still sad deep down, but having good friends and a hectic, time-consuming job was a great distraction from heartbreak.

Tonight, you and your friends planned to go to a local bar that you used to frequent with Sirius for drinks and darts. You got ready quickly, picked out an outfit suitable for a bar, and styled your hair hurriedly. Just before you were about to leave, you felt a ding in your back pocket and read a text from your friends telling you that they had to cancel.

Sighing, you shoved your phone back into your pocket. "Just my luck," you muttered. You were excited to see your friends and have a few drinks, but it doesn't seem that will happen. Unless… you were already ready anyway, why not go to the bar to have fun alone? You quickly decided that was a great idea and left in a hurry to walk to the bar. You made haste and walked to the bar quickly, excited to have fun and admittedly get a little tipsy after a long week.

Although the bar was only six blocks away–relatively short for London standards–walking in heels left you with blisters when you reached the door. When you entered the bar, you sat on one of the stools near the bartender and ordered an old-fashioned, planning to get buzzed quickly.

After downing approximately four old-fashioned drinks–though you'd truthfully lost count–you were solidly tipsy and ready to socialize with the nearest human. You had probably looked a bit odd hunched over at the bar hammering drinks alone, but hey, desperate times call for desperate measures, and you'd consider a recent breakup and friend cancellation desperate times. At this point, you could feel the effects of alcohol buzzing through your system. You were warm, admittedly just slightly sloppy, delighted, and ready to socialize with some people.

Spinning around on your bar stool to face the crowd, you peered among people's faces, looking for fun, friendly girls and playing a game that made it easy to join. Scanning left to right, you stopped once you saw two familiar faces: James and Remus. Usually, one would think you'd hightail it out of the bar after seeing your recent ex's two best friends–perhaps it was liquid courage or sheer stupidity–but you decided to waltz over to their high-top table and plop down next to them as they played a game of cards.

Startled by your non-stealthy, loud, and frankly drunk movements, Remus and James looked up simultaneously to meet your loopy, dazed grin and an embarrassing spot of red lipstick on your teeth you were unaware of. "Hi Remus, hi James," you spoke excitedly, any ounce of social anxiety smothered with whiskey.

"Hi, Y/N, having a fun night?" James spoke first, quickly noticing your inebriated state. He sported a friendly smile but looked a bit shocked by your entrance. You knew Remus and James well. The possibility of them not being your friends after the breakup had been difficult and saddening. Remus and James frequently accompanied you to Sirius' smaller gigs in London, and all four of you often got drinks after the show ended. By the time you and Sirius had broken up, you had considered Remus and James good friends and assumed they felt the same way about you. 

"I'm having so much fun," you near-shouted excitedly, a broad smile overtaking your features. Remus and James laughed in response, eyes crinkling as they observed your enthusiastic state.

Pausing for a second, figuring out how to phrase his next question, Remus asked, "How are you doing? Especially after everything that happened, if you don't mind me being intrusive." He wore a smile, but as his eyes scanned your face and figure, you could tell he was trying to analyze how you'd been coping with the breakup outside the bar.

You sucked in a breath, the feeling of air expanding your lungs dulled from the liquor but grounding you nonetheless. Not expecting the sincere question, you pondered on it for a moment. You had been doing okay with the band-aid of your job and your friends keeping you busy. However, you weren't sure if you were doing okay because you felt okay about the breakup or hadn't given yourself enough time to process it.

After digging deep down to address the wound in your heart, you decided it was the latter. "I've been doing okay. I've kept myself busy with work and friends, but I miss him a lot," you answered truthfully. Before Sirius got the gig in Glasgow, your relationship was almost perfect. Aside from the typical small arguments here and there, you two were infatuated with each other. Your breakup was necessary, but it wasn't wanted from either side.

Remus nodded, understanding what you meant and probably even the context of it all due to his proximity to Sirius. James interrupted the heartfelt moment with his typically cheerful attitude. "Well, if you're looking for more distractions, you could join us for a round of cards!" Although enthusiastic, his offer came out unsure, wondering if you wanted distraction or comfort.

You laughed in response, touched by his effort to comfort you even though you and Sirius were no longer together. "I think that sounds nice," you answered with a soft smile.

And so, over a few hours, you, Remus, and James drank multiple beers, played numerous card games, and divulged in far too many details regarding your feelings about your and Sirius' recent breakup. You told them you didn't know when you'd be ready to start dating again, that you missed the social connection and physical intimacy from a romantic relationship, and that you didn't know how much longer you could ignore the feelings of a brutal breakup with work and friends. They listened empathetically despite the inappropriate nature of you divulging these details with your ex's closest friends.

The excellent news is that alcohol hadn't just loosened up your filter but also James' and Remus' filters. Sirius was notoriously private, so his social media was no help finding details about his new life in Glasgow. Most of his posts were for marketing purposes. However, Remus and James were evidently mouthy drunks, and throughout the evening, you'd find out that although Sirius had tried going on dates, he stopped because the heartbreak was still too raw. Serves him right. When James shared that with you, Remus kicked him a bit too obviously, James flinching from his foot hidden under the tabletop, but the damage was done, and the information was stored in your mind.

"How is the gig going?" you asked. Although you had been craving details of Sirius' dating life, you also wanted to know how he was doing after years of hard work and sought-out gigs.

"I think he's doing okay. He took over for a lead singer who had a baby and listed his leave as indefinite, though he said it's weird being the new one in a band who has been together and known each other for years." Remus answered, James, nodding along. You hadn't thought about the social awkwardness associated with joining a band so late after its formation, but it seemed Sirius was adjusting well.

Staring at the somewhat blurry clock on the wall, you realize it is almost 3 a.m. and far past your bedtime. Gathering your coat to brave the cold weather, you leaped up from the bar stool and stretched your sore limbs. "Well, I have to get going, but thanks for keeping me company tonight," you offered your thanks with a small smile.

Remus and James looked at the clock in response, gathering their jackets and cards after seeing the time. "No problem, we're glad to hear that you're doing well," James smiled at you, his eyes crinkling up. He was always so friendly.

Walking out of the bar alone in the frigid night air reminded you of your loneliness again. Perhaps the cold air was sobering, or maybe it reminded you how nice it was to hold Sirius' warm hand on frigid nights like this and how his constant teasing always made warm, boisterous laughs escape your mouth.

♡ ♡ ♡

When you woke up in your apartment the following day, you still had on your clothes from the night before, recalling how you stumbled into the door and promptly passed out on the bed. Remembering the events from before with James and Remus–although delighted by the information you received–you expected them to never talk to you again, and even worse, you expected Sirius to hear about your nosiness and subsequently block you too.

So that's why you were surprised to see a text in a brand new group chat with Remus and James that read, "Cards and beer again next weekend?"

And so it began. 

♡ ♡ ♡

The next time you met up with Remus and James, you had a lot of life updates. For one, after reminiscing about Sirius and you walking home from the bar, you decided to go on a date to get him off your mind. It went terribly wrong. You went out for dinner with one of your coworkers, Charles. You two had sat awkwardly together while you devoured a steak, barely making any conversation outside of eating noises and sipping drinks in an attempt to get rid of anxiety. When he walked you home, he very unsubtly tried to get you to invite him upstairs, and by the end of his efforts, you were convinced the only reason he went out with you was to end the night in your bedroom. Now, things are awkward at work, and you've decided you can never speak to him again.

Trying to date again only made you want to get back together with Sirius more; you wished that was possible. You missed the comfort of being in a relationship with someone who knew you like the back of their hand. It never felt like an effort to converse with Sirius, even when it took you too long to come up with a comeback to his constant banter. It also never felt nerve-wracking or scary to initiate hand-holding, embraces, or kisses, only sometimes when he looked exceptionally handsome.

You were also incredibly frustrated. You'd resorted to looking at one of Sirius' few fan pages as a more minor artist and had discovered he'd been on a date. You had no idea how it went, but it dampened your mood nonetheless. Hypocritical? Yes. True? Also yes.

When you found yourself sitting across from Remus and James with the same beer as last time, lazily playing cards and more focused on conversation, you told them just that. Most people probably would feel stupid indulging in such personal endeavors to their ex-boyfriend's friends–you probably should feel more stupid doing so–but your friends are so busy, and you can't keep your tragic dating life to yourself anymore.

"And get this, after practically ignoring me the entire date and asking me to split the bill, he asked if he could come upstairs with me when we reached my apartment building! Isn't that ridiculous?" You rant to James and Remus about your date with Charles, feeling new waves of anger and frustration as you remembered the events. Although less wasted than last time, drinking multiple rounds of beer made you more loose-lipped than usual.

Remus' face crinkled in poorly concealed disgust. "Men like him have no shame. You would think he'd try to set things right as your coworker, but the fact he hasn't talked to you says a lot about him." James nodded in silent agreement.

Grumbling and propping your head into your arms on the table, you mumbled, "Ugh, I know. I wish dating wasn't so hard." Frustration sank deep into your veins. Being in a relationship with Sirius felt like one in a million. He was handsome, kind, thoughtful, respected boundaries, and made you so comfortable. Now, the first time you were thrown back into the ring, you happened to go on a date with someone who was Sirius's antithesis.

James patted your back in what was supposed to be a comforting rub. Then suddenly, he chortled. "You know, Sirius also has had trouble dating. He tried going out again with this girl he met at a bar. She went to the restroom and never returned after he told her he was a musician." Remus elbowed James in the ribs, likely for telling you something Sirius would not want you to know. You internally cheered; now you knew the answer to your looming question.

You shoot up almost immediately at the information, a bright light of warm, comfortable, purely selfish happiness burrowing itself in your chest. "Really!?" You ask excitedly, which both Remus and James laugh at.

"Hey, try not to look too excited! He's still one of my best mates," James laughs at your response, clearly bemused by your immediate shift in mood. A small smile graces Remus' lips, and a shiny, mischievous glint overtakes his eyes.

You try to tone it down a bit. "I know, I'm sorry. I know I'm being selfish. I just can't help but wish Sirius was still hanging up on me, too," you admit, letting a bit of sadness come to the surface of your emotions.

"You're still hung up on him?" Remus asked, putting a hand on your shoulder. You knew it was embarrassing to admit, but years of feelings don't go away after a couple of months. Of course, you were still hung up on Sirius. He had been your best friend, too, which James and Remus may have forgotten.

"Isn't that obvious? Of course, I'm still hung up on him. He was my best friend," you admitted quietly, eyes glazing over. You knew this was definitely something you shouldn't be sharing with James and Remus. But the smooth flush of alcohol in your system and feelings of nostalgia quickly overwhelmed your senses.

Remus and James noticed your heightened emotions, side-eyeing each other very clearly. You did not appreciate that. "If you tell him that, I will hurt you two," you threatened, narrowing your eyes.

Remus and James simply laughed but nodded at your empty threat, resuming your game of cards. "Scout's honor," James swore, swearing himself to secrecy.

By the night's end, you'd heard much about Sirius' gig, dating life, and adjustment to Glasgow. It sounded like it was going well, which you were conflicted about. On the one hand, you want the best for him. On the other hand, you're a selfish monster who wants nothing more than for him to come running back home to you. Not that you'd be the first person he would see anyway.

Over the next month, you had to travel to Paris for a work trip, severely restricting your scheduled beer and card games with Remus and James. This was highly displeasing; you wanted nothing more than to hound them for updates. The travel may be for the good, but it would help you move on quickly. And also help me seem less like a deranged stalker, you thought to yourself. Nonetheless, when you were back in a month, you, Remus, and James had beer, cards, and gossip planned again. 

♡ ♡ ♡

Paris was more fun than you could've ever imagined. Although you still had to work there, and this was the most extended work trip you'd ever been on, your boss was accommodating and perhaps lazy, allowing you to take most of the day to lounge around and explore the city.

And that's how you met Jean. Jean was a handsome Parisian man who did a fantastic job taking your mind off Sirius. You had met him at a nightclub about two weeks into your trip, at approximately 3 a.m.—who knew Parisians partied so late and so hard? When he slipped his number into your back pocket, it almost felt like fate. You weren't entirely convinced he was your soulmate, but you were getting close. 

You two weren't exclusive, but you found solace in spending the night intertwined, allowing you to escape the hotel and find romance after a long, painful, dry spell. Although a secret, tumultuous romance sounded quite appealing and much like a romance novel—which made you feel like a cool protagonist—you knew you had to talk to someone about your new fling.

The issue was that your girlfriends would be too nosy. They would want to know everything about Jean, including his social media, which could be disastrous. You need to talk to someone who would know, but they wouldn't grill you for information, so you decided on Remus and James.

You were hoping their oath to secrecy wasn't a lie because when you sent a text to your group chat that read, "Guess who can say she's been with a Parisian man?" it felt perilous. You were hoping you could unpack the details of your fling when you saw them again, not wanting to send a long text explaining everything.

However, when James replied, "I see you're going worldwide," with a winky face, your doubts eased a bit. It felt good having your secret fling off your chest, even if you knew telling James and Remus was an idiotic, terrible, but oh-so-relieving idea.

That night, you spent the night at Jean's again. You never really had much conversation with him. Your French was shoddy at best, and when he kissed the skin under your ear lobe after sharing a bottle of wine, it felt almost as good as a meaningful conversation. It was nearly enough to push away the memories of Sirius and you talking until your conversation ended with bellies and lungs tight from laughter, your faces wet from happy tears.

♡ ♡ ♡

It had been another week since you'd been in Paris. Things had slowed down significantly with Jean, especially after you'd realized that he could not cure your heartache. You both knew your arrangement, or whatever it was, was only short-term. He was handsome and into you, but he also lived in Paris and, hence, was not a viable option for you. He kissed you on the cheek when you parted, but it felt surface-level. Which it was, considering you had seen each other for only a week. 

Thinking of Sirius also still wanted to make you violent, to make you bang your head against the wall. When you'd shared that with James and Remus, they said he missed you and that things were tough in Glasgow, but you couldn't tell if they were saying it just to be excellent. Given the new low levels they'd observed you at, they had reason to. 

Today, you were walking to a coffee shop for remote work. If you'd consider staring at an empty Excel spreadsheet, work. When you said your boss was relaxed, you meant it. He'd posted a photo of himself at the Eiffel Tower eight times over the three weeks you'd been in Paris. 

You ordered yourself a cappuccino and sat down at a booth to lock in and watch TV shows on your computer while you pretended to be doing work. That was until you saw a familiar head of jaw-length black hair walk into the coffee shop: Sirius. 

No fucking way. You had to fight the urge to gasp out loud, bolt out of the shop, and abandon your electronics to escape the feelings of gut-wrenching heartbreak that reappeared upon seeing his face. He honestly looked a lot worse than when you'd seen him last. His face needed a good shave, he had heavy eye-bags, and he looked like he'd lost a concerning amount of weight since moving to Glasgow. You frowned at the thought of him suffering there. 

Apparently, he could feel your eyes on him because his gaze fell on you when he turned his head to scan the coffee shop. Internally screaming, you had to fight the urge to sink underneath the table and pretend you didn't exist. You should've run when you had the opportunity. 

His mouth opened in recognition and shock, a small smile curving upon his lips. Fighting the urge to pretend you didn't know him and run, you offered him a small smile and wave, gesturing at him to join you. This was such a bad idea that you internally face-palmed yourself at your unbelievable stupidity. You have been pining over your ex-boyfriend for months, and what do you do? Invite him to join you at a coffee shop and talk. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

He approached your table, pulling out the chair on the opposite end of the booth to sit down in. "Hi Sirius," you spoke first, quiet, maybe timid, but friendly nonetheless. Your heart felt like it could explode out of your chest, and levels of heartbreak, sadness, and longing flooded to the surface, seeing him so close to you. Not to mention, he looked unwell, and you wanted nothing more than to embrace him like you would've done in the past. 

"Hi, Y/N," Sirius said, too. You both looked at each other for a second, a cloud of awkwardness and heartbreak in the air. He inhaled deeply, "How are you?" he offered up, breaking the silence. 

"I'm doing okay," you answered truthfully. "I've been busy with work and seeing my friends a lot," and there's the lie. You stared at a spreadsheet all day, and the only friends you'd seen frequently were Remus and James, who were Sirius's more friends than yours. 

"I'm happy to hear that," Sirius responded with a small smile. He paused for a second, thinking about his following words. "I heard from James that you've been dating again; I'm glad you're doing well," He spoke again, a forlorn look glazing over his brown eyes. His lips wore a neutral smile, but his eyes told a different story. Upon hearing these words, your heart dropped into your lower stomach. I'm going to kill him, you thought. James was so in for it. The worst part was you weren't even dating Jean anymore. You weren't ever dating him; he was just a fling and a distraction. 

You needed to figure out how to correct this vital error. Clearly, Sirius had gotten the wrong impression about your dating life from James, that bastard. Despite your frustration, after thinking about it, you didn't know there was a use in correcting the error. After all, despite how pathetic and in love you were with Sirius, he was still in Glasgow. "Thanks, Sirius, I appreciate it," you opted to respond to his comment after thinking about your situation. "How are you?" you asked. Despite his interesting appearance, you had hoped he wasn't terrible. 

"I'm okay. I'm moving back to London soon, though," he smiled. Oh no. You swore you felt your heart drop on the floor. When you convinced yourself that this relationship was forever out of your grasp, he dropped this bomb on you.

"Oh! Really?" You ask with an empty, fake smile, though you were admittedly surprised by this confession. "I suppose it will be nice to be closer to James and Remus again!" You added. You hoped he thought it would be nice to be closer to you again, too, but he officially thought you were dating someone else, and it felt too late into the conversation to reverse back on the error. It would be both confusing and humiliating to admit you had gone on with the lie. 

He nodded. "The lead singer was on leave because he had a baby; even though he listed it as indefinite, he decided to start working again," Sirius answered honestly, explaining the situation to you. You swear you could feel your heart snap into a million little pieces. You and Sirius had broken up believing this job arrangement was permanent, but now it felt like all your heartbreak was for nothing. 

"I see. What are you gonna do in London?" you asked, trying to convince yourself he might get tied down to another band. That way, the heartbreak would feel a lot less awful. 

"I'm going solo," Sirius told you. His typical confident demeanor was shredded; he was excited, but his words left enough room for you to tell he was looking for your approval. 

"Congratulations, Sirius. I'm really happy for you," you said. You were happy for him; this had always been his dream, but it was easier to break into the music scene in a group. However, this was probably the worst situation for mending your heart. If Sirius was solo, he wasn't tied to a band or their touring schedule. If he didn't think you were dating Jean, it would be entirely possible for you guys to rekindle your relationship. You felt like going to the Eiffel Tower solely to climb it and throw yourself off. 

You took a deep breath, desperately needing to escape the situation and think. "I have to get going," you blurted awkwardly and rashly. "I have to go back to the office; my lunch break is over," you added in a quieter, more normal-sounding voice. You hoped Sirius would ignore that it was 10 a.m. and nowhere near lunchtime. It was a pathetic, poorly thought-out lie in an attempt to escape. 

"Oh, well, it was nice talking to you. See you around!" Sirius responded, clearly taken aback by your sudden departure. If you didn't feel like you were going to vomit up your breakfast, you would've felt bad, as he clearly thought you were desperate to ditch him. You were, not because you hated him, but because you still loved him. 

You nodded, quickly packed up your belongings, waved goodbye, and bolted out of the coffee shop, nearly tripping over your shoes on the way out. It was so embarrassing. You opened your group chat with Remus and James, sending a single text, "Traitors!" 

James' reply was a single emoji with their tongue sticking out.

♡ ♡ ♡

You had been back in London for a week, and after multiple texts from now-apologetic James and Remus, who had been apologetic from the start, you agreed to meet them again at the bar to talk. You were honestly still a bit upset. Knowing that there was now a possibility of getting back together with Sirius, which you had subsequently squashed, had reopened deep sadness. 

You entered the bar, immediately spotting James and Remus at your usual table. You sat down with a small smile; they were still your friends, and you waited for an explanation. 

Immediately as you sat down in the booth, James blurted out, "I'm sorry!" You nodded but raised your eyebrow, waiting for an explanation. "Please forgive me. I promise I thought you were dating Jean, and Sirius asked about you. I couldn't leave him hanging; he's my best friend." James blurted out the information rapidly, clearly apologetic and anxious.

However, there was only one piece of information that you immediately narrowed down on. "Wait, Sirius was asking about me?" you asked, shocked and slightly shaken. Here, you thought you were the pathetic ex-girlfriend hounding details out of James and Remus, but maybe, just maybe, Sirius was the pathetic ex-boyfriend, too. 

Remus responded with a snort, "Please, Sirius has been asking us about you nearly every day for the past three months!" James nods hurriedly, clearly trying to appease your worries. 

"And you didn't tell me?" you ask, a twinge frustrated—scratch that, a lot frustrated. You'd been ranting to them for months about how heartbroken and sad you were, only to discover that Sirius was equally upset.

"Well, we didn't know if he'd be returning either. We thought we were being good friends hearing you guys out. We didn't want either of you to know about the other in case Sirius stayed in Glasgow," Remus explained, his words coming out quickly. 

You nodded in response. Although you were frustrated, Remus's and James's explanations made sense. Honestly, you felt terrible dumping all that responsibility on them. 

"Well, we have to go. Bye!" James said, grabbing Remus' arm and running out of the bar. You gaped in response, shocked by how quickly they tried to run off. Their mannerisms made no sense until you saw a familiar face for the first time since Paris: Sirius. 

He looked shocked to see you approaching the table you sat at. "Hey, Y/N, what are you doing here?" That seemed like something you should ask him. 

"I just met up with James and Remus," you replied sheepishly. You didn't know if he knew about your continued meetings. And you hoped he didn't know that you had been milking them for information about his life in Glasgow. 

"Oh, they told me to meet them here," Sirius said. "I wonder if they decided to switch locations. I can go to meet them," he continued, using his thumbs to point towards the door and indicate his departure. 

You think you both knew that James and Remus had planned this. However, you also knew that Sirius was likely being nice and didn't want to make you uncomfortable since he was under the impression that you were dating Jean. 

When Sirius started to retreat, you saw his broad, tall figure walk out the bar's doors, a bell dinging as he left, and you knew you couldn't sit back. You couldn't let the man you love get away from you again. Knowing you could've done something to stop it, you couldn't deal with another heartbreak. 

You hopped up from the bar stool, running after Sirius's figure until you reached him two blocks away, in front of a brick alleyway. "Sirius, wait!" you nearly pant, clearly out of shape, reaching out to clutch his wrist. He turned around to face you, looking dejected. "I'm not seeing Jean," you blurted out–still out of breath–a rare moment of vulnerability. You wanted to smack your hand over your mouth. "He was just someone, something, to get my mind off you for a while." You felt like you needed a muzzle right now. 

His expression shifted from sadness to surprise but then again to emotions you couldn't put your finger on. “Y/N…” He began, but you quickly cut him off. 

"Please, I know I messed up," you admitted quietly. You were embarrassed. "I should've been honest with you. I should've told you I missed you and had been honest with you, but I didn't know if you would ever return. So I resorted to playing a game of telephone with James and Remus. I should've just asked you how you were doing." 

He looked bashful for a second, an emotion you didn't usually see on Sirius. "Well, you weren't the only one playing the game telephone. I kind of, maybe, told James and Remus to continue meeting with you so I knew what was happening in your life." He pauses for a second, trying to figure out how to continue. "And for the record, you didn't mess up seeing Jean; we were broken up, and you had every right to move on. I just selfishly wished you had been waiting for me."

You laugh at his confession. You should've known James, and Remus wouldn't have continued to update you without telling Sirius information, too. After all, he was their friend first. "I should've known they would sell me out to you and that they wouldn't be the most reliable relayers of my life." You sucked in a quick breath, "I wish I had waited for you, too; I just didn't know if you were ever coming home." If you weren't embarrassing yourself enough, you suddenly said, "I never stopped loving you."

A vast silence washed over the two of you for a moment, your sudden confession hanging over your heads like a ripe fruit from a tree, desperate to be desired. Then, Sirius reached out to cup your cheeks, both rosy from the cold air and the heat of your confession. His eyes searched yours before he spoke. "I never stopped loving you either," he admitted. 

A surge of relief flooded your system, along with bone-deep golden joy. You didn't let another moment pass before you wrapped him in a tight embrace, your head falling under his chin. He allowed a burst of happy, surprised laughter to escape his lips before wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. When you held each other, all the misunderstandings and doubts between you two melted away, replaced by love and closeness. You never wanted to let go of him again. 

After a moment, he pulled away, "You could've just told me you missed me, dollface." Although you felt touched, he had so quickly re-adopted your old nickname, you punched his arm nonetheless. 

"Shut up," you murmured, leaning upwards to envelop his lips in a gentle, soft kiss. When he smiled against your lips, you hoped you two could stay like that forever. 

[myownwholewildworld]

acta, non verba - i. a badge of honour

series masterlist | main masterlist | chapter 2 pairing: conqueror!marcus acacius x ofc!reader. synopsis: scotland, 83 AD after the battle of mons graupius. the romans have come up to the boundaries of their empire with a relentless desire to conquer the savages that inhabit the highlands. they won't rest until the Caledonian tribes are subjugated. Marcus Acacius is in charge of your clansmen's fate, but if such fate is similar to your family's, you know you need to do something about it. as the only living daughter of the tribe chief, your people look to you for leadership. power plays, treason, deception, rebellion, war, love, heartbreak, betrayal. and two souls, destined to despise each other, trying to navigate it all. a/n: well, here it is! the first chapter of my new series, set in what is now scotland, during the romans' conquest of the british isles in the 1st century. hope you guys like it! as always, all interactions welcome. thank you so much for reading! <3 warnings: 18+, mdni. death, aftermath of a battle, burial of family members. reader is an original character - female, has a name (callie) and a physical description, family history, etc. i'll try to keep the references to a minimum though. age gap (callie is 26, marcus is 48). mention of infidelity and becoming a widow. marcus’ and reader’s pov. i have taken some historical licenses for ease of writing (use of "clan" as synonym for "tribe", references to irish/celtic gods, the caledonian people speak modern scottish gaelic instead of a (proto-)brittonic language). w/c: ~4.2k. dividers by @saradika-graphics i'll be tagging some people at the end of the chapter who interacted with this post. dw, i won't tag you in the next chapters unless you ask me to! also, if you want to be removed from this post, please send me a dm.

A light breeze whistled through the nearby standing stones. The dying sun provided no heat, and the ethereal landscape was cold with hues of blue and grey. Despite the shimmering wildlife that came with the first hints of spring, the meadow was uncannily silent.

The crows cackling in the distance broke such tranquil peace and woke you from your slumber.

Slowly you blinked, something wet and warm covering your eyelids. You felt it slide down your skin, pooling in the dip of your collarbone. Your limbs felt so heavy, you couldn’t lift a hand to rub your eyes clean. In fact, you were so tired that even taking a deep breath hurt.

Your orbs fluttered shut, shattered and defeated.

Dhuosnos, God of the Dead, was calling you to His side. His presence was soothing, so inviting, the most melodic sounds guiding you to Him. With the eyes of your dying imagination, He extended a welcoming hand towards you, a soft smile on His mythical features.

“Come with me, sweet child of the tribes.” A guttural voice escaped His lips, so dark and sombre it enveloped you.

You nodded, gaze down, submitted to Him.

“You can’t just take her, Dhuosnos. Callie is yet to avenge them — her purpose must be fulfilled first before she can greet you as an equal.” A second voice, feminine, otherworldly and reassuring, interrupted your exchange.

Morrígan, Goddess of War, placed Her hand on Dhuosnos’ forearm as to stop Him from reaching you. A stone of relief, but also of disappointment, sat low in your stomach when He took a step back, head bowed towards Her.

Steadily you undid your curtsy, your green eyes locking on Hers. They were black as the night sky, Her pupils and irises indistinguishable from one another. You looked into the abyss of Her sight and felt a deep-rooted longing, one you never experienced before.

“You are not done yet, mo leanabh (my child). Your people await your return.” Morrígan palmed your trembling hand, escorting you back to the earthly plane.

“But…”, you turned around to look at Her, ask for Her advice.

But She had already vanished, a sweet scent of lavander left behind.

You gasped awake, your eyes so widened, the cloudy, sunset sky above felt like it was crashing down on you. You were laying down on a pool of mud. A deep, raspy grunt escaped your lungs as you tried to move your arms. When you couldn’t, you looked down, confused.

Aengus’ lifeless body was resting on top of yours. Your father’s henchman had made the ultimate sacrifice by hiding you underneath him, away from the prying eyes of the Romans. The dense liquid caressing the skin on your face was none other than his blood. A trickle of thick red dripped from the gnarly wound in his neck on to your cheek. His eyes were staring at you emptily, his soul had already left this world when you regained consciousness.

Your father, Murdoch of Inbhir Nis, the Caledonian Overlord, had come to the aid of the Taexalian Overlord, whose territory was succumbing to the legions of Gnaeus Julius Agricola, a Roman governor with a high desire to impress his Emperor, Titus Flavius Domitianus.

Your father had gathered as many fighers as the Caledonian lands could give him. Both men and women were called to arms when the tribes were threatened. Being the daughter of the Chieftain would not spare you. You would not have chosen differently anyway, had you been given the opportunity. Fighting for land, clan and honour was your duty as much as your brothers’ and sister’s.

The journey from Inbhir Nis (Inverness) to Cala na Creige (Stonehaven) had been unforgiving, with illness and evil lying in wait. But you all had been warmly welcomed by the Taexali tribe and were fed copiously, the uisge-beatha (whisky) being served like water.

Your combined armies, shy of fifteen thousand folk, had been ambushed at Raedykes during a repositioning exercise by the Roman troops led by Agricola’s most trusted man.

General Marcus Acacius.

His mere name made you sick, anger crawling under your skin.

Fighting off your own opponents, you had seen the Roman General charge against your father like a beast, wielding a gladius over his head. The metallic impact of their swords rang loud across the landscape. The men looked into each other’s souls, an exchange of words shared between them. You were too far to listen, too far to fully see what was really happening as warriors from both sides danced through the grass.

Then you foresaw it before it happened: the heavy Roman sword fell on your father, who was struck to his knees with the General’s blade lodged in his belly.

You tried to get to him, screaming “Athair (father)!” at the top of your lungs. His eyes locked on yours before he fell sideways. You lunged forward but didn’t get to him, Aengus stopping you in your tracks.

“No, Callie, it’s too late now”, he had sorrowfully whispered in your ear before throwing you off to one side to fend off an attacker.

And then blackness swallowed you, an enemy hit you in the head so hard you lost consciousness.

That was how you came to be where you were — with your back flat on the silt and Aengus’ body blanketing yours. The grey sky above you sensed your pain, and, at Taranis’ command, it parted in the middle. The God of Thunder released a downpour to clean the blood, soot and woad’s blue dye off your face and hair.

You cried your sadness away, rainy tears sliding off the corners of your eyes — your anger, your loss, your torment, you purged it all, sobbing until you were devoid of all emotion. Taking a deep breath, which caused a needling pain on your ribs, you pushed Aengus to one side to free yourself from his weight.

The thudding sound he made almost brought more tears to your eyes.

“Sorry, uncail (uncle)”, you muttered, hovering your fingertips over his eyelids to shut them for him. Now he could finally rest.

You stood up, your knees trembling like a newborn calf. A searing pain stabbed your skull, dried blood and dirt gathering on the wound on your scalp. With a straight back, you dared to look around you. The bodies of your own men and women were scattered around the hills of Raedykes. So many lives lost, you heard all your ancestors screaming from above, their cries falling upon you in the way of rain. The green, long grass was reddened with blood, but the weeping sky had started to wash away the atrocities committed by the Romans.

Then you saw him. Your athair.

“No, no, please, no...”, you whispered as your sight became blurry again, dragging your feet towards the fallen body of your dad.

Your soul tried to tear itself apart, become its own entity. You had to summon the last drop of the royal blood that ran through your veins to keep yourself in one piece. You knelt before him, craddling his bloody hand between yours. Unconciously your body rocked back and forth until you hugged him, laying flat on top of him.

Time stood still, like a thread on the expert hands of a wool weaver. It could have been minutes, hours or days, your pain too great to bear, to comprehend.

And then you felt a hand lightly tap your shoulder.

You startled, your mind and body jumping back into survival mode, gripping your sgian-dubh (small knife) close to your chest.

“It’s okay, mo phiuthar (my sister). It’s me, Torcall”, a raspy, masculine voice forced you to focus on the man in front of you.

He was your father’s most important tacksman and also husband to your older sister Mairead — your sweet Maisie, as you always called her. She was the eldest of the four siblings while you were the youngest. Always so witty and quick with a joke, Maisie kept up the spirits even when the circumstances were dire — in fact, before your paths had parted during the battle, she jested about your H-shaped shield being larger than you.

When you turned around, Torcall flattened his hands on your shoulders, slightly shaking you so you would come back to reality.

His blue eyes pierced through you, the situation becoming clearer in your mind. Thousands of your tribesmen were dead. Your father too.

“Maisie?”, you asked in a hush. Your heart clenched when your brother-in-law shook his head no. You were afraid to speak, but you did nonetheless. “Aodh and Somhairle?”

Torcall stared at you, his silence speaking loudly. “They are all dead.”

The air evacuated your lungs, feeling as if a spear had run through you. Learning about the death of Maisie and your twin brothers broke something within you, something fundamental and primal. They were your everything, your most trusted confidants. Despite being of different ages, you all were so tight-knit it was difficult to find one of you alone.

A heart-shattering wail escaped your lips as you bent over yourself, your chest snug against your knees.

Morrígan had unashamedly claimed most of your family that day, except for your beautiful mother. Now Her words made sense: you were yet to avenge them, to fulfil your purpose. She had spared you for a reason, not so you could pity yourself, knees deep in the mud.

To avenge them, you had to kill the hand who showered this tragedy upon you.

General Marcus Acacius.

A raven’s strident, gurgling croak forced you to look up to the skies — a subtle reminder that Morrígan was watching closely. The massive bird was circling above your heads, like a vulture waiting to feast on a carcass. With resolution, you wiped away your tears, your sobs now silent, and nodded at Torcall.

“I understand. How many…?”, your voice faltered before you could finish your question.

“A couple of thousands. We have found cover in the Dunnottar Woods while we regroup and… bury our dead.” Torcall replied, his eyes averted with the last sentence.

You had lost a sister, but he had lost a wife, the mother to his now half-orphaned children. “I’m sorry”, you muttered, your lips pouting once more.

“She died fighting, the death of a warrior.” His proud voice did not waver. “And your father?”

Your heart wept at his mention but managed to control the anxious fluttering.

“The General killed him.” Your teeth gritted with hatred.

“Mo bana-phrionnsa (my princess)”, one of your father’s retinue members bowed his head to you once you walked into the circle they had formed in a meadow between the trees.

A few dozen men were scattered around the area, fires lighting the dark night while shades of red and orange flickered, creating fiery, dancing shades. You held a torch and carefully waved it in front of you, looking at the faces who watched you back eagerly.

You saw in your men what was brewing inside you: despair, defeat, sorrow. All your souls grieving in unison — all of you had lost someone that day.

At six and twenty, you did not expect to be in this position. You were the youngest daughter of the Overlord — you were never meant to lead your people. The task ahead of you felt titanic, unachievable.

But you had no other option. General Marcus Acacius had forced your hand.

He came, he saw, he conquered.

And now you had to deal with the gut-wrenching outcome of his departure.

“We’ll go back home to Inbhir Nis. But before that, we must give burial to our people.” You had to make a herculean effort to infuse your tone with steadiness.

Torcall first, and then the rest, bowed their heads to you.

“As you command, mo bana-phrionnsa”, he replied, and quickly barked orders around in your stead.

Your chest felt heavy with responsibility and grief. What pained you the most was not being able to carry your brothers and sister with you back home. They would not be buried under the cairns near you family home with the rest of your ancestors.

And what was worst — thousands of lives now depended on you. The weight of your tribe's destiny heavily rested on your shoulders now, like Atlas carrying the heavens.

Maisie, Aodh and Somhairle had been lined up on a patch of wildflowers that you had picked yourself the night prior — their arms were threaded together with your sister in the middle. Your clansmen had also surrounded the makeshift burial pit with wood to aid the combustion.

As you placed the last stone on top of them, you also deposited a bright, bloomed thistle. The flower that blossomed in every nook and cranny of your beautiful motherland, despite the harsh winter or conditions it faced. Like the phoenix rising from the ashes, it would always come back, stronger and more brightful than ever.

Devotion, bravery, determination, and strength — the thistle was a badge of honour for the Caledonians.

With a renewed brawn unbeknownst to you, you threw the lighted torch and watched as the fire consumed the bodies underneath the stones.

There were no tears left within you. Only purpose and resolution.

The way back to Inbhir Nis was tiring and soul-crushing. Hiking through the Cairngorms had been a difficult task with so many people behind you, but luckily you all managed to make it through without any losses.

With each mile covered, you saw the devastation left behind by the Romans. If this was any indication of what awaited ahead, you should start bracing yourself for what you would see. It seemed that the Romans were set towards the northwest — Inbhir Nis was right in their path.

You quickly recognised the landscape as you walked towards Loch Moy. A thick, dark column of smoke towered above the pine trees. Your heart raced as you picked up your dark green skirt and ran towards the loch, ignoring the calls of your brother-in-law.

You could run through those woods blindly — this was the land where you were born, the land you were named after. Your name was an unusual one — Caledonia, in honour of the earth beneath your rushing feet. Just a few people called you Callie, mainly your family and closest friends. With your bright, fiery red hair, green almond eyes and a face dotted with freckles, you were the epitome of your people. That was probably why when someone new learned your name, they always said it suited you.

Dodging the last few trees, you made it to the edge of the loch. In the shallows, the crannog of Naimh, your community’s healer, was burning down to its foundation. You covered your mouth with a sombre expression, your eyes itchy because of the dense smoke and unspent tears.

The Romans had gotten to your settlement before you did.

“Callie, wait up”, said Torcall behind you, struggling to catch up with you.

He halted right behind you, the silence between you was almost tangible.

“The rangers have returned from their reconnaissance mission.” His voice was plain, contained. You turned your heard towards him, slowly, hardening yourself for his next words. “Your mother is dead.”

The last glimmer of hope within you vanished. A single tear skidded through your cheek — angrily, you wiped it off.

You were alone in this world. Everyone you cared for had been taken from you.

“Is everything to your liking, Dominus (Master)?”, the male roman servant asked in a low hush, head bowed, eyes fixed on the cobblestone.

“Yes, now leave”, Marcus dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

The General looked around him with a mixture of curiosity and disgust. He was accustomed to much more elegant surroundings. Although the barbarians did try, their architecture was nothing in comparison to Rome’s.

The castle he was in was small and it only had two floors. It was mainly made of sturdy, grey rocks and dark wood. The design was not very sophisticated, all square and rugged edges. It had two towers and a barbican. The decoration inside was bare, with just enough furniture and no luxuries.

The only warmth was brought by the colourful tapestries adorning the cold, thick walls — one had caught Marcus' attention at his arrival when he first entered the dais. It told a story he had not heard before.

A dragon-like figure lurked beneath the rippling surface of a lake, attracting the attention of the villagers. At dusk it would emerge, a guttural sound echoing in the dead of night, as if it was calling another. Any bìrlinns (wooden vessel) left on the shore would appear destroyed the next morning. Fishermen were worried and called upon the town's druids, afraid of the Loch Ness monster. To appease the beast, every full moon, the druids would whorship the creature, bringing oblations and sacrificies to quench its thirst.

Marcus made a mental note of keeping his distance from that Loch Ness. As a devoted Roman, he was wary of the mystic creatures that skulked in the depths of human fear.

Although he missed his home, he had several debts to pay. The Emperor would not accept no for an answer, so he had to be a reluctant participant in this incursion — in fact, neither Domitian nor Agricola had really asked him to tame the highlanders up in Caledonia. They knew his skills would be most needed in combat, having been praised by bards and poets alike after his many years in the battlefield.

At eight and forty, Marcus Acacius had had his good share of tragedy and death, both personal and in war. His life had not been easy, having to forge a name of his own since childbirth and then having been recently betrayed by his own spouse.

The thought of Livia still angered him — she had had the audacity of blaming him for her infidelity, accusing him of always being away, of loving Rome more than his own family. Her cheating had been going on for as many years as their arranged marriage, throwing a doubtful shade on his paternity to both his children.

His life had come crumbling down in the last few months, so maybe coming to Britannia had not been such a bad idea. Female adultery was a crime penalised with death and that was a decision that Marcus had yet to make — outing Livia’s unfaithfulness would condemn her to Pluto's realm. Did he really want that for who had been his wife for more than thirty years?

Pinching the bridge of his hooked nose, Marcus walked towards the only window in the room. The roman took a deep breath and exhaled steadily — he needed to think of something else.

His mind went back to the battle of Mons Graupius. The spilling of blood never became easier with time — if anything, it had become harder, splintering his soul further. If he closed his eyes, he could still hear the piercing, pained shriek of a woman as he imparted death on Murdoch of Inbhir Nis.

Her hair was dyed with black soot and tied back, her face covered in a blue paste and ash. He was too far to catch the colour of her eyes, but he thought them dark azure. The fierceness of her expression took him aback, her voice shouting a word he did not recognise. But his eyes did not have time to linger on the feral woman a few yards away, because a savage attacked him.

His hand stilled on the rocky window’s sill. The barbarians called this place Inbhir Nis. The stone castle was that of the chief’s family, atop of a hill with views to the scenery underneath. It was rudimentary and lacked many commodities — nothing comparable to his villa in Rome. The tribal settlement was formed of huts made of stone, timber and hay.

Agricola had decided to burn down the outskirts of the town and killed the wife of the clan chief making a macabre example of her, so the people would submit to the Roman’s yoke quickly, crushing any opportunity of rebellion. The message was clear: Rome would not tolerate being challenged. Anyone who did, would face the most painful of deaths. The governor left to go northward, leaving Marcus behind to rebuild the area to Rome’s standards. The emperor had deemed the location an important enclave for his empire, being the main town in the Moray Firth.

Marcus was standing in what he thought was the bedchamber of Murdoch. With the Overlord and his family alienated, the primitive people of the highlands needed educating and he had been given the task of doing so. Not a welcomed one, but he had a duty to Rome that had to be fulfilled.

With a heavy sigh, he undid the brooch at the base of his neck, relieving himself of the heavy, white sagum (cape) that was part of his attire. He threw it on the uncomfortable bed. He unfastened the golden, laurel-shaped bracelets around his wrists, and then proceeded to undo the tight knots that held his armour in place.

Then a knock on the thick, wooden door broke the silence of the room.

“Come in”, thinking it would be his male servant, he didn’t turn around.

“Dominus, dinner is ready”, a very soft voice with a very marked accent made him look over his shoulder.

A pair of very bright, almond-shaped, emerald-green eyes locked on his, framed by what he would describe as fire hair — so red it looked like a hellish aura crowning your head.

So bright were your eyes, he almost felt his soul being examined by your hypnotising gaze. Marcus had never seen eyes like those.

How dared he stand where your father did? Anger shimmered under your skin, but you kept it in check. When you realised you were holding his gaze for longer than what was appropriate for a servant girl, you averted your eyes, inspecting the stones under your feet.

Torcall called you mad for doing this, but you had made up your mind. If you really wanted to overthrow the Roman General and win back your family’s castle and land, you would need to sew yourself into his everyday life. Gain his trust, learn his secrets and use that information against him. Your people were counting on you for freedom, and you would not allow yourself to disappoint them. Even if it was the last thing you did.

“Who are you?”, his raspy voice filled the atmosphere as he resumed the task of undoing the ties on his armour.

Did he have no shame, undressing himself in front of a maid? Mind you, you were not an innocent servant, having been widowed recently. But still. The romans had no modesty, you assumed.

You had to think quickly. You had learnt that the governor and the general both thought the whole chief’s family dead, so you could not out yourself. A very few, selected people called you Callie, almost always in the intimacy of your home, when strangers were not around. Your nickname was precious to you because it was only used by those you loved.

“My name is Callie, Dominus”, you offered your nickname in a rusty Latin. It had been a while since you had to use a language that was not your native one.

“Callie.” The way your name rolled off his tongue gave you goosebumps. You didn’t like the way he pronounced it — it lingered in his mouth for too long, dragging each letter. You wished your words back, but you couldn't change it now.

Instead of clenching your jaw, you nodded. “Yes, my lord, I’m one of the servant girls who tended to the clan chief’s family before you.” You explained, your head still bowed.

You ventured your eyes up for a second, catching a glimpse of his naked torso. Unconsciously, you pursed your lips. The way your heart pounded loud for that one second made you furrow your brows in confusion.

He might be a gorgeous man, but he was a killer. And you had no taste for soulless murderers, that much you knew about yourself.

“Call my attendant, Atticus, to help me get ready for supper. I have no need of you. And ask the kitchen staff to heat some water and bring it up here.” His tone was emphatic, unwavering.

His rejection, in other circumstances, would have been most welcomed, but you needed him to trust you, to confide in you so you could plot his demise — to destroy him. This was not a good start to your plan, but you needed to play the long game.

“I could certainly help you with a bath now, Dominus, but your wish is my command.” You forced the words out, when in reality you wanted to spit them to his murderous face.

He just nodded in your direction, his movements stiff and measured. “Just my attendant will suffice, now go.”

With your fingers laced on your back, you curtsied, walking backwards towards the door of your father’s bedchamber. You could not seem too eager, or he would become suspicious.

When you were in the corridor with the door closed behind you, you took a deep breath and straightened your back.

You would not take no for an answer. Marcus Acacius would yield to you, whatever the cost.

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[journen]

do you have a list of good CoD fanfics, or favorite writers in general?? <3

Presented in no particular order, here are some of my personal faves / fics I really enjoyed, and my own summaries for them. Hopefully you enjoy, thanks for the ask, anon!!!

I didn't tag all the authors because I'm not sure if they all have tumblrs, but also I'm shy tagging people ahjdfhkaheje. If any authors here are mentioned tho and you have a tumblr, feel free to lmk and I can update this post to include your tag!!:)

Anything rated mature I colour coded the name in red, and anything explicit green. Not all the mature fics feature smut, but yeah! I didn't want to link anything tooooo explicit here, but if anyone wants any, I can definitely rb this post to add a few more 😅

Also, just beware the tags on any of these fics because some feature kind of heavy subject matter. 👍

COF FIC REC LIST:

A Very MacTavish Christmas - @m3rrywe4ther

Prob my fav fic in the fandom lololol. HUGE RECCOMMEND. It's about Johnny who gets roped into spending the holiday Christmas season with his , for the most part, very not so nice family, and Simon accompanies him. So much stuff happens in this fic and it's such a great character exploration of Simon and Johnny independently, but also as a couple, and just so much stuff happens in it lol again, HUGE RECOMMEND!!!

We'll make Death Proud to Take us - Literal_Satan

Fic where, it starts off really sweet where Simon goes to Scotland with Johnny to spend Christmas with him and his family, but things take a drastic turn when Soap's brother, a police officer/detective, gets a little too curious about mysterious Simon, and the story spirals from there. All the guys end up on this crazy goose chase tracking down some of the people who were involved in Roba's brainwashing operations. The fic gets v dark at times and deals with some very heavy trauma so beware, but it's SO. GOOD.

Dream a Little Dream - Angelicasdean

Again, one of my total fav fics in the fandom!! AU where Simon leaves the army to raise his nephew Joseph, who's the sole survivor of the Riley family massacre, and Johnny is one of the daycare teachers at the daycare where Simon takes Jo 🥺🥺👍👍

Pretend to love me like I do - FetteEule

Really cute fic of Simon who accompanied Johnny to Scotland for his sister's wedding, under the ruse they are dating. They are v much pining but not there yet. Features lots of really cute domestic moments and Simon being really sweet to Johnny's kid nephew 😭🧡

Something important - Anonymous

One of the fics that has me totally brainrotted rn. It's about Simon's who's been de-aged to 6 years old, and Price, Gaz and Soap all taking care of him and trying to figure out how he got turned, and how to turn him back! They all get tested on their abilities to care for a child, and unwillingly learn a lot of details about Simon's childhood they never knew. This summary doesn't do it justice tho, so I'd just recommend checking it out! Beware tho again, there is some dark childhood trauma stuff but there are warnings at the start of each chapter that contains references to it.

Seasons - StinglessWasp

In this fic every chapter is set during a different season and tells a unique sort of story/mission/interaction Soap and Ghost have. Definitely some v good angst&hurt/comfort stuffs too. Starts off pre-relationship, and explores their characters a lot! It's just really good HUGE reccommend lol.

What the Eyes Don't see - WhiplashRogue

One of my FAVESSSS! So the premise is like, Soap can actually see ghosts ever since he was a child (which most other people can't see and also don't believe in), and Ghost has 2 spirits attached to him that follow him around(Joseph, and Roach). The fic starts off pre relationship, and it mostly about Soap trying to learn more about these two spirits and discovering more about Ghost's past.

All that's said in the Low Light - Headlocket

Probably one of the most emotional I've ever read LMFAO. It's about Johnny, who receives a back & knee injury bad enough he gets discharged from the army, and is back in Scotland living with his parents as he recovers. He and Ghost lost contact a bit since the accident, and it's sort of a story of them reconnecting. This description doesn't do it justice, just read it, but it will emotionally destroy you lol

Time Loops Suck (series) - Enter_fand0m_reference00

The first installment of the fic takes the idea that Soap is stuck in a time loop during the alone mission! And all the optional dialogues and interactions in thE alone mission are separate attempts of his trying to survive the loops and rendez vous with Ghost. It's just sooo good!! And then there's a follow up fic where it deals with the mental aftermath of the loops and Ghost comforting soap through it, then there's 2 other installments of Simon who instead goes through a time loop! They are such great character explorations in how both Soap and Ghost experience the loops, and I whooleee heartedly reccommend.

Yellow Card - SkerryB

Soccer au fic!! It's so good! Simon is the captain of a soccer team Soap is drafted to as their new goalie. Simon has had a history with Soap before though, that he was the only goalie Simon could never score on! So that's how it starts, and it's just so good from there!! Simon's family are also alive in the fic and his nephew is adorable.

You swept me off my feet - @ghoulishhone

Ghost is down bad for strong Soap, the fic xD This was a fic Ghoulishone and I were paired together to work on for the Ghostsoap server reverse bang! They wrote the fic and I made some accompanying art. Just a cute fic of Soap having to pick up Ghost after he gets injured and some other shenanigans that ensues:)

Dear Mr Ghost - @shortcuts-make-long-delays

SUCH A CUTE FIC!! The majority of the fic is these letter/pen pal exchanges between Ghost, and Soap's young niece Chloe...it's just. So. Good. And was written by a friend of mine too! BIG RECCOMMEND.

Give me Hope and Let me Down - MechanicalBones

Some of the best Ghost whump I read lolll. Ghost is captured by some people with ties to Roba and tortured. Meanwhile Soap is on his way to rescue him, and eventually he does, and there's a lot of hurt and comfort. It's also a getting together fic. 🥺

Unspoken Love - Hammy101

( Super amazing oneshot. I feel I can't do this fic justice with any summary. Just read it. 🥺 It has decent Ghost whump AND domestic off duty cute ghost soap angsty stuff it's just one of my faves ever!!!!)

Except You, You can Stay - Iravaid

Really realistic, believable portrayal and expansion upon a lot of the key events that happen in the Ghost comics. From his childhood, to the mental aftermath of Roba, his family dying...it's heavy but really really good. And has a happier hopeful ending that's Ghost/Soap 🥺

Hat Trick of the Heart and the sequel Family, Gotta Love em - Librarian_FanFicFan

Absolutely am obsessed with these fics!!! It's an AU about Ghost who is recently discharged from the military due to injury, and on a flight back to London where he is seated next to Soap, a famous footballer/soccer player. Ghost doesn't know who he is tho, but they hit it off and exchange numbers. The second installment features Simon's family!!! And Tommy being dramatic and shocked over the fact his brother got the number of this famous sports player... SUPER CUTE IF YOU LIKE RILEY FAMILY STUFF.

As for my fav CoD authors I wholeheartedly recommend anything by:

RedClegane, m3rrywe4ther, Hammy101, TheEdwardianOne, Iravaid, and so many authors but I can't list them all ahaha...but hopefully this is a good start!

Hopefully this helps anon! Sorry it took me a while.

[scribblesofagoonerr]

hi guys!

so it's come to my attention that this whole few series might be a little confusing to read in a particular order so I'm just gonna try and narrow the explanation down a little bit...

so in order to probably understand monkey's personality first i would read a few bits from chaos fc which starts of as an aussie pest and an english pest who are best friends and love to cause chaos together!

these 5 fics are based around their time in melbourne and what they get up too

↪ i'm never babysittin' again! | mission: chaos fc | yer' a pair of pests! | wheres' dumb and dumber? | come get yer' kid!

from there there's a few fic's that follow on from this with monkey's different adventures in scotland and nashville, where's up to no good as usual

↪ wee' bit of haggis in scotland | yeehaw' it's cowgirl era | you can kiss my ass, cowboy!

following on from these if you want to read more about monkey's past then i suggest reading a lot of reserved feelings which kinda goes into the small details about monkey's reserved side when she first moved in with leah and jordan

there is also a bunch of head canons and blurbs that are related to this as well which will help to understand monkey's past better in monkey's background and i think it is also briefly mentioned in monkey moves in

after this i would recommend reading the separate mini series in which this introduces buddy and it gives a bit of an insight into what she is like and how she handles the separation between her two mums but this is wrote around the same time as monkey returns from her adventures in nashville

there's several more head canons/blurbs that are related to buddy through the time before she was born in ivf and pregnancy and and and even the introduction between monkey meeting buddy for the first time

if you wanted to read about the gender reveal of buddy then i would recommend the flashback fic to finding out the gender of buddy in oh baby! which is in the buddy & monkey series where monkey is so excited about it

the whole buddy and monkey: double the trouble series is pretty self explanatory and it's mostly about the two of them and the adventures they get up too, together

however, there's a few i would recommend reading together which would be the bubbles are pink, jackass! and then the farmyard adventures since that follows on from the swear jar fiasco

from there there's a couple of fics that are not really planned to go in any particular order which are buddy's first words as well as no more money for monkey and we brought a puppy home

there's also a good couple of head canons and blurbs related to this series the break up | euro final | buddy cheering monkey up | zoo adventures | training days | kimmy the babysitter

also the social media aspect of it which is reunited again and monkey's lioness debut

following along with the head canons and blurbs there's several in chaos fc which can be read in any particular order as well leah being drunk | making a fool of herself | monkey encouraging leah to drink more | monkey winding leah up the morning | captain kimmy & monkey blurb | england call up | media duties with monkey & kyra and continental cup celebrations

the four most current ones at the minute are the glastonbury mini series following onto both parts of whoa, we're going to ibiza I and whoa, we're going to ibiza II then from that its' my most current work which is the the haunting nightmares of the past

i hope this somewhat helps and it's not incredibly confusing to read now - there's more to come for all this so i will update this as and when i can!

and as always if you have any questions about anything then please feel free to continue to ask me anything whether it's anonymous or not, i love answering questions about this chaotic pair! 💗

[unsolicited-opinions]

Just saying like . Of your countries list a lot of these Are heavily criticised by those who take a stance against Israel’s government and current political status. Turkey and Northern Ireland being listed are banger examples. Also of the countries you listed with official religions, the depth of which religion is involved in general affairs varies drastically. I’m Scottish, you listed Scotland, the Church of Scotland has literally no influence on politics and laws, its heritage / a left over item by English Protestants more than anything. I do in fact, firmly think any country having an official religion meddling in state affairs is bad, actually, but the list you pulled together has such massive variety it’s not really making a big point imo. Afghanistan and like Scotland have very different levels of religious control over government and every citizens life. Both shouldn’t be there but, not comparable aside from the simple fact they have an official religion 😭

Cool. Tell me more about what level of ethnic or religious identity you think is okay in a modern nation state? Not joking - I think that's an important conversation to have and I'd like to have it.

I agree that the UK's level of religious establishment is mostly harmless. There is real freedom of religion, despite the fact that the Monarch takes vows to protect the Church of England and the Church of Scotland. There is real freedom of religion despite the fact that public funds go to religious schools. I don't think those circumstances are ideal, but I think the UK lives up to Enlightenment Liberal values by truly protecting religious freedoms for religious minorities and having laws against religious discrimination.

The same cannot be said, for instance (as you mention) for Afghanistan, Iran, or Egypt.

Meanwhile, non-Jewish Israelis have the exact same legal rights as Jewish Israelis. (If you would like to dispute this fact, please cite sources). As every citizen of the UK has equal rights of religious freedom, so do the citizens of Israel. Israeli non-Jews are judges and members of Israel's parliament, the Knesset.

So, how does this differ from the UK?

I totally agree with you that ANY establishment of religion is potentially problematic- But if Israel's identity as a Jewish state is bothersome while it has true freedom of religion which none of its neighbors have, I'm asking why Israel is singularly bothersome to its detractors for having an ethnic/religious identity.

And, again, I really would like to hear *answers* to this question which leverage facts and reason.

Lastly, thank you for offering a differing view without resorting to slurs or telling me to kill myself. I value and appreciate your civility more than I can adequately express.

It is one of my life's ambitions to visit Scotland. I loved how the Scots responded to Trump's visit. David Tennant made my week with this one.

Wishing you well in these awful times.

[marzipanandminutiae]

Do you know much about historical cuisine? Saw yet another anime with friends and they went the whole 'modern food always tastes better' bit. I feel tired of the trope and am wondering how different historical cuisine would taste compared to modern times. So anything you happen to know as a historian would be cool to know!

That varies MASSIVELY based on time and location. Like. Much more than fashion does, even, I'd imagine (in a given sub-region- I can talk about Mainstream European and Euro-American Fashion of the 19th CenturyTM but the food was so different in different countries that were dressing the same, if that makes sense? just as an example).

Food is often more globalized in a lot of places nowadays, so the characters might have more diversity of flavors from the regional norm than they're used to. But this could be a good or a bad thing- a woman from 17th-century Japan might love pizza and much sweeter Western pastries, or she might absolutely hate them. Which is not to say regional cuisines haven't evolved, too- a museum here in Boston used to have tastings of 18th-century-style hot chocolate, and it was very different from the modern sort. But that's the largest blanket difference across the globe that I can think of, food-wise.

Not sure what anime this was, so it could have been Japan-specific, but I feel like this gets applied the most to the 19th-mid 20th century UK and United States. The whole Captain America line about "food's better; we used to boil everything," for example, and the general belief that everything was bland mush in those areas until the 1950s and then it was incomprehensible Jell-O mold horrors until approximately the 1980s. And of course, none of that's true- there were plenty of dishes that used spices and different cooking methods, many of which are still popular today. See also: Jonathan Harker, a Normal 1890s Englishman, getting so rhapsodical about paprikahendl that he simply must have the recipe for his fiancee to make. There also WERE bland mushes and fluorescent nightmares, but there's less than ideal food today, as well.

(Note that I'm much less confident talking about the whole English StodgeTM thing as we get into the 20th century. That is outside my history wheelhouse and there's a lot of different stuff embroiled in it relating to class and such that I don't want to talk out my ass about. All I know is that I've seen plenty of recipes from as late as the end of the 19th century, from England and some from urban Scotland if I recall correctly, that made ample use of spices. Nutmeg, mustard, black pepper, rosemary, caraway, and cayenne pepper were especially popular (not all together obviously). There was a belief among the middle and upper classes that strong flavors of garlic and onion were distasteful to ladies, but the fact that cookbooks and such feel the need to mention it implies that those elements WERE being used in cooking generally, in the UK, at that time. So wherever the idea that All British Food Is Beige And Tasteless came from, it wasn't mainstream late Victorian cooking for adults as far as I can tell)

(They gave kids a fair amount of the beige and tasteless because they believed their digestive systems couldn't handle strongly-flavored- okay now I'm getting off topic. Read Ruth Goodman's "How To Be A Victorian." Anyway!)

tl;dr- The answer to "is modern food better?" is "that's literally impossible to answer as a blanket statement, since it's massively dependent on the character's original time, place, social status, and personal taste- and where they end up in the present, of course."

Now, I do agree that the trope is annoying the same way every single princess being totally shocked and appalled when her marriage is arranged gets annoying- not because it can't be true based on history and human behavior, but because fiction treats it as some kind of universal precept. Mix it up a little sometimes! Have a Regency character who comes to the present, finds out that her favorite local cheese isn't being made anymore, and loses her entire mind!

[get-back-homeward]

“You can read the other boys’ side to find out I’m the stinker. I think I’m right. But don’t we all! You couldn’t believe it! It’s a movie! Because I’ve had to take this action against the others, it looks like we can’t stand each other. I can really only speak for myself, but I still like the other three. And maybe it’s deeper than “like.” But at the moment, I’m not stuck on them. I’m not pleased. We are not amused at the moment! I am not loving them. But I know when it’s over I will really like them. People said, “It’s a pity that such a nice thing had to come to such a sticky end.” I think that too. It is a pity. I like fairy tales. I’d love it to have had the Beatles go up in a little cloud of smoke and the four of us just find ourselves in magic robes, each holding an envelope with our stuff in it. But you realize that you’re in real life, and you don’t split up a beautiful thing with a beautiful thing.”

“You know, there’s like three periods in my life. There’s the time when I was at school and just after leaving it. That was when I used to read a lot—Dylan Thomas, paperbacks, a lot of plays, Tennessee Williams, things my literature master had turned me onto. I used to sit on the top level of buses, reading and smoking a pipe. Then there was the whole sort of Beatle thing. And just now again I feel I can do what I want. So it’s like there was me, then the Beatles phase, and now I’m me again.

It’s rather serious—life. And you can’t live as if you have nine lives. I find myself doing that often. I think everybody does, saying in his mind, “I’ll get it tomorrow.” But I can’t do that anymore. Take One with the Beatles should have been like I said, with a puff of smoke and magic robes and envelopes. But we missed Take One, so now we do Take Two. And in the disappointment of Take Two—I feel I can always find something good in the bad—the good thing is that it really has made me come to terms more with my life. As a married couple, Linda and I’ve really become closer because of all those problems, all the decisions. It’s been very real what I’ve been through, a breath of air, in a way, because of having been through very inhuman things.

The Beatle thing was fantastic. I loved every minute of it. It was beautiful. But it was a very sheltered life. Why, somebody would even ring me up in the morning and say, “You’ve got to be at Apple in an hour.” It got very nursemaidy. If you are a real human, you’ve got to wake yourself up. You’ve got to take on these tedious little things because out of the tedium comes the joy of life…”

Life: Paul McCartney talks about the Beatle breakup and his new life. (April 16th, 1971)

(Note: I’ve temporarily removed the page scans from this post because Tumblr doesn’t seem to be uploading the inline-images in their original resolution as they should be. Will see to an alternative display solution, if I don’t figure something out within Tumblr itself!)   

—

An interview by Richard Meryman

So the separation became a divorce. On the last day of 1970, Paul McCartney filed suit in London against John Lennon, Ringo Starr and George Harrison to dissolve their partnership of the Beatles & Co. McCartney charged that their business manager, Allen Klein, was incompetent, and that the far-flung business affairs of their corporation, Apple, were a vast bookkeeping mess. Then the strained silence that had gripped the famous quartet for months became a war of words. In the course of a rambling 30,000-word interview in Rolling Stone, John accused Paul of trying to run the show. “We got fed up with being sidemen for Paul,” he said. George said he had once walked out because Paul had demonstrated a “superior attitude” toward him musically. Ringo claimed that Paul—“completely out of control”—had berated him over a conflict of album publication dates and said, “I’ll finish you!” Until now, Paul himself has remained silent. Recently he agreed to the following interview, in which he explains his motives and speaks in his defense. 

McCartney was interviewed in Los Angeles, during a recording session for his new album Ram. The album, which was partly recorded in New York, contains 11 new songs by Paul, including several written in collaboration with his wife Linda. It is scheduled for release May 15.

Keep reading

[ineffable-endearments]

The Crow Road by Iain Banks

I finished The Crow Road and had a little time to think about it. I'll put my thoughts under a Keep Reading in case anyone is trying to avoid spoilers.

As I speculated before, I think it's likely that The Crow Road is more related to Good Omens in philosophy than in plot. I mean, it's not that the plots necessarily have nothing in common, and we could be very surprised in the end of course, but now that I've read the whole book, its philosophical commonalities with GO are both apparent and kind of inspiring. Also, if I were a writer, I'd be more interested in dropping hints about what themes are important than telegraphing my whole plot ahead of time.

So here, I will describe the book and point out themes that I believe may reappear in Good Omens 3.

This is a long post. If you read it, make a cup of [beverage of choice].

Update on 4/20/2024: I made a second post: The Crow Road and Good Omens: Further-Out Thoughts

Below are mentions of suicide, death/murder, and sexual acts.

The Crow Road centers around a character named Prentice McHoan, a university student in Scotland who starts to sort out his complicated relationship with his complicated family as he explores the mystery of his uncle Rory's disappearance. Although the book is mostly from Prentice's perspective, the narration jumps around in time with the McHoan family. There are quite a lot of important characters to keep track of; the bare-bones summary I put below doesn't even include some of the important ones. I wanted to make the summary even shorter and simpler than this, but the truth is that this book is not short or simple, and if I made the summary any simpler, it might be downright misleading.

There are at least three major cultural aspects of The Crow Road that I am inexperienced with: the overall culture in the 1950s-1980s (I was born in 1988, so of course wasn't here for the relevant decades), the international experience of the Gulf War (again, born in 1988), and the history and culture of Scotland itself (I'm USAmerican with only reading as a source). As a result, I'm sure there are important dimensions to the book that I've missed. If someone has a different perspective taking some of these things into account, I'd love to know about it.

Also, keep in mind, there is a great deal of descriptive writing in this book. There are a lot of pages about the geography of Scotland, and about Prentice as a kid, and about Prentice's father and uncles hanging out together in their youth, and about various family incidents, and about Prentice spending time with his brothers and friends. At first, these passages seem to just make things more confusing, and in my head, I accused them of being "filler." But they definitely serve a purpose. They're a way of showing and not telling the characters' attitudes and relationships to each other. More importantly, because we get to actually live these experiences with the characters, they are what give all the plot points below their deeper emotional impacts. In other words, the everyday experiences give the plot its deeper meaning. They resonate with one of the core themes in the novel: that our experiences in life, rather than any supposed existence after death, are what matters.

The Crow Road's story is like this:

Prentice is rather directionless in life, and he seems to have trouble investing any energy in his own future as he moons over his unrequited feelings for an idealized young woman named Verity. Soon, Verity ends up in a romance with Prentice's brother, Lewis, and Prentice feels that Lewis "stole" her from him. Prentice has also become estranged from his father, Kenneth, over spirituality. Prentice believes there has to be something more after death because he feels it would be incredibly unfair if people didn't get anything other than this one life; Kenneth is not only a passionate atheist, but is offended by the notion of an afterlife.

Prentice's uncle Hamish, Kenneth's brother, has always been religious, although his religion involves a number of bizarre and offbeat ideas of his own, with inspiration from more traditional Christian notions. Prentice is not really sure about this ideology, but he's willing to talk to Hamish about it and even participates during Hamish's prayers, whereas Kenneth is openly scornful of Hamish's beliefs. Hamish interprets this as Prentice being on "his side."

Prentice has a few opportunities to go back and talk to his father, and is begged to do so by his mom, Mary, with whom his relationship is still good. Mary doesn't want either of the men to give up their inner ideas about the universe; she just wants them to agree to disagree and move on as a family. Prentice says he will visit, but he just keeps putting it off and off and off.

Prentice acquires a folder containing some of his missing uncle Rory's notes in the process of hooking up with Rory's former girlfriend, Janice Rae, who seems to have taken a shine to Prentice because he reminds her of Rory. Using the contents of the folder, Prentice wants to piece together the great literary work that Rory left unfinished, which Rory titled Crow Road; however, it becomes apparent that Rory didn't turn his concepts into anything substantial and only had a bunch of disconnected notes and ideas. He hadn't even decided whether Crow Road would be a novel, a play, or something else. The few bits of Rory's poetry for Crow Road read are bleak and depressing.

Prentice also spends a lot of time with a young woman named Ash. They've been good friends since childhood and seem to have a somewhat flirtatious dynamic now, but they aren't in a romantic relationship; mostly, they drink and hang out together. Ash tells Prentice bluntly to get his life back on track when she finds out he's failing at school, avoiding his family, and engaging in shoplifting. She is a voice of reason, and when Prentice insists to her that he's just a failure, she reminds him that actually, he's just a kid.

Prentice's efforts to figure out Rory's story or location stagnate, and he continues to fail at school and avoid his father. He then receives word that Kenneth was killed while debating faith with Hamish. In fact, Kenneth dies after a fall from a church lightning rod, which he was climbing in an act of defiance against Hamish's philosophy when it was struck by lightning; Hamish is convinced that Kenneth had incurred God's wrath. Ash is there for support when Prentice finds out about the death.

With Ash's help, Prentice returns to his hometown again to help manage Kenneth's affairs. Prentice speaks with a very shaken Hamish, who is handling Kenneth's death with extreme drama and making it all about his own feelings. Hamish tells Prentice that Kenneth was jealous that Prentice shared more in common with Hamish's faith than with Kenneth's lack of faith. However, this isn't really true, and as he contemplates his father's death, Prentice begins to internalize one of the last things Hamish reported that Kenneth had argued: "All the gods are false. Faith itself is idolatry."

As the chapters go on, Prentice is compelled by some of the meaningful items related to Rory that he discovers in his father's belongings. He gains a renewed sense of purpose trying to solve the mystery of where Rory went and what happened to him. Among the interesting items are an ancient computer disk of Rory's that Prentice can't access with any equipment he can find; Ash uses her connections in the US and Canada to find a computer expert who can finally open the files on it. This takes quite a while, since the disk has to be mailed and Ash's connection is investigating the disk only in his free time.

Prentice also discovers that his feelings for Verity have changed. He no longer feels angry with Lewis for "stealing her." At first, Prentice's narration describes this as his feelings "cooling" as a result of the trauma of losing his father, but interestingly, this soon means Prentice gets to know Verity as a sister-in-law without getting caught up in jealous romantic feelings. Verity gets along well with the family, and Prentice is actually happy to discover that she and Lewis have a baby on the way. Prentice's relationship with Lewis improves greatly as well, partly because he is no longer jealous and partly because he realizes he does not want to lose Lewis, too.

Ash's connection who was looking at Rory's computer disk comes through and sends the printed contents of the files to Prentice. The files reveal to him that Rory likely knew Prentice's uncle, Fergus, murdered his wife by unbuckling her seat belt and crashing their car. Rory had written out a fictional version of events and considered using it in Crow Road. I'm not clear on exactly how certain Rory was about Fergus's crime, or whether Rory would have intentionally reported Ferg, or whether Rory even had enough proof to publicly accuse Ferg of murder, but people would likely have connected the dots in Rory's work and become suspicious of Ferg. For this reason, Prentice believes Ferg murdered Rory as well.

Prentice confronts Ferg. He doesn't get a confession and leaves Ferg's home with no concrete proof of anything; Ferg denies it all. But Prentice is soon physically assaulted in the night, and it seems Ferg was almost certainly the culprit, because he hadn't been home that same night, and he had injuries (probably from being fought off) the next day. A day or two later, Ferg's body is found unconscious in the cockpit of a plane, which crashes into the ocean. It's uncertain whether this was a suicide, but Prentice suspects it was. Rory's body is then soon recovered from the bottom of a waterway near Prentice's home, where Ferg had sunk it years ago.

As the mysteries are solved, Prentice realizes his feelings for Ash are romantic love. However, it's too late, he thinks, because Ash is about to take a job in Canada, where she may or may not stay. Prentice also hesitates to approach her because he's embarrassed about his previous behavior, venting all his angst about Verity and his father. He isn't sure she would even want to be in a relationship with him after that. But the very night before Ash leaves, she kisses Prentice on the cheek, which leads to a deeper kiss. They finally connect, have sex, and confess their mutual feelings. Ash still goes to her job in Canada, but says she'll come back when Prentice is done with his studies that summer.

The relationship's future is somewhat uncertain because something could come up while Ash is in Canada, but Prentice is hopeful. The book ends with Prentice getting ready to graduate with his grades on track as a history scholar, fully renouncing his belief in an afterlife while he acknowledges the inherent importance of our experiences in our lives now, and enjoying his time with Lewis and Verity and his other family members.

What's the point of all these hundreds of pages?

Well, look at all of the above; there's definitely more than one point. But the main point I took away is that we get this one life, with our loved ones in this world here and now, and this is where we make our meanings. There is no other meaning, but that doesn't mean there's no meaning at all. It means the meaning is here.

It's not death that gives life its meaning. It's the things we do while alive that give life its deeper meaning.

The Crow Road is described (on Wikipedia) as a Bildungsroman, a story focusing on the moral and philosophical growth and change of its main character as they transition from childhood to adulthood ("coming-of-age novel" is a similar term that is interchangeable, but more vague and not necessarily focused on morality/philosophy). And, indeed, all of the plots ultimately tie into Prentice's changed philosophy.

After his argument with Kenneth, Prentice feels childish and humiliated, and as a result, he refuses to go back home, which leads to a spiral of shame and depression. Kenneth dies and Prentice realizes it's too late to repair the relationship, which also leads him to realize it's what we do in life that matters, and that therefore, his father's argument was correct after all.

At the end of the novel, Prentice outright describes his new philosophy. However, I can't recall one specific passage where Prentice describes the process of how he changed his mind (if anyone else can remember something I missed, do let me know). There is, however, a moment when his narration indicates that Hamish seems less disturbed by his own part in the incident that led to Kenneth's death and more disturbed by the notion that his beliefs might actually be true: there might actually be an angry, vengeful God. In other words, Hamish's philosophy is selfish at its core.

My interpretation is that when his father died, Prentice realized three things: how utterly self-serving Hamish's devout faith is, how Kenneth's untimely death proves the importance of working things out now rather than in an imaginary afterlife, and how much profound meaning Kenneth had left behind despite having no faith at all. After these realizations, a determined belief in an afterlife no longer makes our lives here more profound like Prentice once thought it did.

Also, it's worth noting that this incident changes Prentice's idea of partnership, too. He loses interest in this distant, idealized woman he's been after. In love as in the rest of life, Prentice lets go of his ideals, and in doing so, he makes room for true meaning, both in a sincere familial, platonic connection with Verity and a sincere intimate, romantic connection with Ash.

But what about the sex scene?!

Yes, indeed, at the tail end of the story, Prentice and Ash have sex and admit they want to be in a relationship together. Prentice's narration describes them sleeping together and having intercourse not just once, but many times, including some slow and relaxed couplings during which they flex the muscles in their private parts to spell out "I.L.Y." and "I.L.Y.T." to each other in Morse code. This is relevant because earlier, they had been surprised and delighted to discover that they both knew Morse code; it isn't a detail that came from nowhere.

I didn't get the impression that this scene was trying to be especially titillating to the reader. It was mostly just a list of stuff the characters did together. I felt the point was that they were still anxious about being emotionally honest, a little desperate to convey their feelings without having to speak them out loud, and awkward in a way that made it obvious that their primary concern was the feelings, not the sexual performance. They cared about each other, but they weren't trying to be impressive or put on a show; contrast this with previous scenes where Prentice would act like a clown in front of Ash to diffuse his own anxiety. I've always thought that being able to have awkward sex and still enjoy it is a good sign.

Okay, so what does this all have to do with Good Omens?

Here's where I have to get especially interpretive. I'm doing my best, but of course, not everyone reading this will have the same perspective on Good Omens, the Final Fifteen especially. I believe similar themes are going to resonate between The Crow Road and Good Omens regardless of our particular interpretations of the characters' behavior and motivations, but I suppose it could hit differently for some people.

The TL;DR: I see similar themes between The Crow Road and Good Omens in:

The importance of mortal life on Earth

Meaning (or purpose) as something that we create as we live, not something that is handed to us by a supreme being

Sincere connection and love/passion (for people, causes, arts, life's work, etc) as a type of meaning/purpose

Relationships as reflections of philosophy

The dual nature of humanity

Life on Earth as the important part of existence is a core theme in Good Omens, and has been since the very beginning. We all already know Adam chose to preserve the world as it already is because he figured this out, and we all already know Aziraphale and Crowley have been shaped for the better by their experiences on Earth. But Good Omens isn't done with this theme by a long shot. I think this is the most important thematic commonality Good Omens will have with The Crow Road. Closely related is the notion that we create our meanings as we live, rather than having them handed to us. Isn't this, in a way, what Aziraphale struggles with in A Companion to Owls? He's been given this meaning, this identity, that doesn't fit him. But does he have anything else to be? Not yet.

Partnerships as a parallel to the characters' philosophical development also resonates as a commonality that The Crow Road may have with Good Omens. Prentice's obsession with Verity goes away when he starts to embrace the importance of life on Earth and makes room for his sincere relationship with Ash. Note their names: "Verity" is truth, an ideal Prentice's father instills in him; "Ashley" means "dweller in the ash tree meadow" in Anglo-Saxon, according to Wikipedia, and "ash" is one of the things people return to after death. Prentice literally trades his high ideals for life on Earth. We see in Aziraphale a similar tug-o'-war between Heaven's distant ideals and Crowley's Earthly pleasures, so I can see a similar process potentially playing out for him.

I don't particularly recall a ton of thematic exploration of free will in The Crow Road. However, there is a glimmer of something there: Prentice feels excessively controlled by Kenneth's desire to pass down his beliefs, and part of the reason Prentice is so resistant to change is simply his frustration with feeling censored and not being taken seriously. As the reader, I do get the feeling that while Prentice is immature, Kenneth made major mistakes in handling their conflict, too. And Kenneth's mistakes come from trying to dictate Prentice's thoughts. There is likely some crossover with Good Omens in the sense that I'm pretty sure both stories are going to take the position that people need to be allowed to make mistakes, and to do things that one perceives as mistakes, without getting written off as "stupid" or "bad" or otherwise "unworthy."

Suffice it to say that the human characters in Good Omens will also certainly play into these themes, but it's hard to write about them when we don't know much about them except that one of them is almost certainly the reincarnation of Jesus. This also makes me suspect perhaps the human cast will be 100% entirely all-new, or mostly new, symbolic of how Aziraphale and Crowley have immersed themselves in the ever-evolving, ever-changing world of life on Earth. Alternatively, if we encounter human characters again from Season 1 or 2, perhaps the ways they've grown and changed will be highlighted. For example, even in real-world time, Adam and Warlock have already, as of the time I'm writing this, gone through at least one entire life stage (from 11 in 2019 to 16 in 2024). They'll be legal adults in a couple of years, and if there's a significant time skip, they could be much older. If characters from Season 1 do reappear and themes from The Crow Road are prominent, I would expect either some key scenes highlighting contrasts and changes from their younger selves or for stagnation and growth to be a central part of their plot.

The more I write, the more I just interpret everything in circles. Hopefully this post has at least given you a decent idea of what The Crow Road is like and how it may relate to Good Omens.

I'll end this post with a quotation that feels relevant:

Telling us straight or through his stories, my father taught us that there was, generally, a fire at the core of things, and that change was the only constant, and that we – like everybody else – were both the most important people in the universe, and utterly without significance, depending, and that individuals mattered before their institutions, and that people were people, much the same everywhere, and when they appeared to do things that were stupid or evil, often you hadn’t been told the whole story, but that sometimes people did behave badly, usually because some idea had taken hold of them and given them an excuse to regard other people as expendable (or bad), and that was part of who we were too, as a species, and it wasn’t always possible to know that you were right and they were wrong, but the important thing was to keep trying to find out, and always to face the truth. Because truth mattered. Iain Banks, The Crow Road

[i-may-be-an-emu]

TELL ME ABOUT THE MEN!!!!!!

HELLO!!!

GLADLY :DD

THE MEN. :)

They’re called shoot from the hip (sfth) and are @shootimpro on youtube, tiktok, instagram, facebook, x/twitter, as well as on linktree, patreon and ko-fi.

They’re London based but have done shows outside london like in Scotland (Edinburgh Fringe) and even to Spain. They want to hopefully go to other countries in the future too!!

From left to right they’re Sam, Tom, AJ and Luke :)))

(this will probably be LONG so putting a read more lol)

Ok so they do improvised comedy and their shows have two halves (generally with a break in the middle) they play lots of short drama games in the first half and then improvise 20-30 minute (on average) plays in the second half, sometimes with another game at the end.

The plays are so much fun (they’ve got 38 of them up on youtube so far!!) and they’ve also released two full specials (full shows) which you can find on their channel :)

(just a note that for a few of the older ones (apart from the first one) they were filming on an iphone and just projecting their voices, the the audio and image quality can be hard to deal with)

they have SO MUCH CONTENT because during covid they did zoom-style improv shows with eachother and you can watch them as a patreon

they also have SO MANY VIDEOS that are just the regular public ones!!!! They upload short ones of the games and some 5-10min ones of the games too, as well as the long forms (plays)

Now some info about the guys :D

Samuel Thomas Russell-Holmes:

Birthday 21st July 1989 (35)

Married this year and expecting a baby!!! :)

wears a red flannel a LOT (less recently, but still a LOT, it’s his Thing)

he says some very risky things sometimes but also has the audacity to look shocked when the others do it lol

Fav colour is green

he’s 5”10

brown eyes

currently producing a radio show for the bbc called wing it (available in December!)

if he were a Disney Princess he said he’d be Rapunzel

VERY GOOD AT ANIMAL (specifically goat/sheep) NOISES

kisses Luke a lot lol (kisses all of them a lot, but specifically Luke- I counted like the madman that I am lol)

great at talking in Spanish gibberish, often paired with opening his shirt buttons

loves fantasy things

wrote an audiobook called “Evergreen”

his mother and grandfather are/were successful actors

Has a drama degree

Low spice tolerance

has eaten raw egg live on camera

can be a tad egotistical but we love him

Thomas Mayo-Woodman/Hodgson-Mayo:

HES SO TALL (this man is almost 2m tall- he’s 6”5.5 :0)

brown eyes

his birthday is 10th July 1989 (35)

Married to a drag king (@pipdream on insta, tiktok, youtube, ect.) who’s pronouns are they/them

Wrote a graphic novel (it’s called Future it’s about space lesbians)

literally one of the sweetest and kindest souls on this planet I’ve never met him but every time he says anything it’s like WOW OK YOURE SO NICE AND KIND AND WONDERFUL (everything I’ve heard from people who’ve met him is SO NICE)

SO GOOD AT IMPROVISING (specifically Shakespearian-style) MONOLOGUES

his favourite colour is red

has two english degrees (very good with grammar and words)

has adhd

makes a garbled choking noise very well (you have to hear it to get what I mean I guess lol)

has eaten a teabag live on camera

He’s the “dad” of the group

Very hard to make him laugh on stage (but he’s been laughing more, recently!!) and each one is treasured

so kind did I mention he is kind

lovingly called a squid or squidboi by the fandom because of one time he like stuck his hands in his sleeves and was like “I’m a squid”

does a lot of admin work for sfth and handles the finances (at least he did, they might have someone for that now I’m not sure) and takes care of the patreon

Alexander Thomas Jeremy (AJ):

Birthday on 4th November 1991 (32)

CONFUSION KING /aff (he gets confused easily but we love him for it)

He’s bald and gets made fun of for it RELENTLESSLY (again, lovingly)

Absolutely ANGELIC singing voice

Blue eyes

born in Manchester(UK) but grew up in France (fluent in French)

makes movies/short films on youtube!! He’s working on a new one now and you can find them @atjeremy on youtube (that’s also his insta and you can see stuff about his films there too!)

does a lot of the editing for sfth and has a lot of input into which longforms to upload apparently (all of them decide tho I think)

he’s such a himbo (/aff)

fav colour is blue

He’s 6 foot tall

On their covid livestreams would always forget to get costuming ready

his rapping is BEAUTIFUL (words that barely rhyme at all and make NO sense 😌)

can deliver GREAT one liners

so good at playing children it’s crazy

can do magnificent cartwheels and loves to jump on the others with no warning

lots of muscles but lost an arm wrestle against Tom

Thinks he can’t do an Irish accent but I think it’s pretty good

also has a drama degree

Luke Christopher Manning

Birthday is the 23rd October 1989 (currently 34 about to be 35)

Hazel eyes

hes not short but he’s the short-EST, 5”7.5

gets made fun of for his height a LOT (lovingly!!)

SO good at accents

so good at playing women

also so good at playing children

such a good actor overall

says THE MOST UNHINGED THINGS

people think he’s innocent (somehow) but he’s SO unhinged

took his pants off live on stage (wearing underwear but still lol) (AND it’s on youtube hahaha)

lives in Spain with his long term girlfriend (fluent in Spanish)

so much attitude in such a small guy (/aff)

often compared to Macaulay Caulkin looks-wise

plays bass guitar in a band

Teaches acting (to kids??) in Spain

also has adhd

also has a drama degree

His favourite film is back to the future I believe

So confident in himself (this is a very good thing)

people say he “doesn’t age” and looks really young but I personally think he does look his age

sometimes called “Luke Womanning” as a play on his last name because of how amazing all his female characters are

They’re all really close friends and met at uni and started doing improv around 13 years ago together! Started gaining popularity 2022 and are gaining more and more fans every day!

Um. Whoops I wrote a lot lol. (It totally hasn’t been an hour of me just writing this hahahaha)

anyway I love them so much :)))) (as you can probably tell)

anyway!

THANK YOU SO MUCH ANON THIS ASK MEANS SO MUCH TO ME :DDDDD

[scotianostra]

October 11th 1297 was the date of the letter from William Wallace to the mayor of Lübeck.

Today in 1297 a letter from Sir William Wallace and Sir Andrew Moray to the mayors of Lübeck and Hamburg was drawn up, saying that "The Kingdom of Scotland has, by God's Grace, recovered by battle from the power of the English".

This is a remarkable piece of history, and I am honoured to have seen it in person when it was on loan to Scotland a few years ago.

The Lübeck letter was first discovered preserved in the Lübeck archives in the 1820s. It was often mentioned in books thereafter. In 1942, Lübeck, on the Baltic coast of Germany, was attacked by Allied aircraft. As a result, the town's archives, including the letter, were moved to a saltmine for safety. At the end of the war, the Soviet army took the papers east. The archives were later handed over to the archive administration of East Germany, but the medieval documents were not among the records. It was assumed that they had been lost.

In the 1970s Lübeck documents were found in the archives of the USSR. In 1990, after some negotiation, the town's medieval records, including Wallace and Murray's letter, were returned to Lübeck.

There have been calls for the letter to be returned to Scotland, whereas it would be nice to have it to display in one of our museums I think it is as much a piece of Lübeck's history as ours, and also as recipients of the letter it is rightfully there property.

Originally, there were two letters; one to Lübeck and one to Hamburg. The contents were identical and the letters were scribed within a month of the Scots’ success at Stirling Bridge.

The translated letter reads......

"Andrew de Murray and William Wallace, leaders of the army of the kingdom of Scotland, and the community of the same kingdom, to their worthy, discreet and beloved friends the mayors and communes of Lübeck and Hamburg, greeting, and increase always of sincere friendship.

It has been intimated to us by trustworthy merchants of the said kingdom of Scotland that you by your own goodwill are giving counsel, help and favour in all causes and business concerning us and our merchants, although our merits had not deserved this, and therefore all the more are we bound to you to give you thanks and a worthy recompense, to do which we are willing to be obliged to you; and we ask you that you will make it be proclaimed amongst your merchants that they can have secure access to all ports of the kingdom of Scotland with their merchandise since the kingdom of Scotland, thanks be to God, has by arms been recovered from the power of the English. Farewell.

Given at Haddington in Scotland on the 11th day of October in the year of grace one thousand two hundred and ninety seven.

We request moreover that you will see fit to forward the business of John Burnet and John Frere, our merchants, just as you wish us to forward the business of your merchants. Farewell. Given as before."

Significantly, the letter carries the only known impression of William Wallace's personal seal, which shows the Scottish Lion Rampant on the front and on the reverse, a strung bow with a protruding arrow. The inscription appears to read ‘William, son of Alan Wallace’, which is interesting in relation to determining just who Wallace was exactly. An Aleyn Waleys – described as ‘tenant le Roi du counte de Are’ – signed the 1296 ‘Ragman Roll’ and he is quite possibly William Wallace’s father.

Another thing about the letter is the fact that Moray is involved with it, Andrew de Moray was, in the North of Scotland every bit as important as Wallace, history tells us that he was wounded at Stirling Bridge and died of his wounds in November so how involved in this was he?, if I had a time machine I would use it to learn more about Wallace and Moray.

This is a great piece of history and as I said earlier, I would love it to be part of our archives and on display in a museum, but it is the property of the people of Lübeck and we as a nation are grateful that they lend it to us on occasion.

[hipsdofangirl]

puppy seal love

selkie! seokmin x reader

according to wikipedia…selkies are mainly associated with the Northern Isles of Scotland, where they are said to live as seals in the sea but shed their skin to become human on land.

for context: i imagine selkie coats in human form to be actual jackets. in this headcanon format, the arrows are connected with the idea directly above.

major warnings: after the physical dash-lined break there is 18+ content, so MINORS please do not go past, not accurate selkie lore but i would love to know more (also my personal take on some lore), not proofread, bss mentioned,

wc: unknown

selkie! seokmin who…

- collects rocks and pebbles for you

- collects various sizes of shells

- notices your necklace lathered with charms

- misunderstood and became sad when he saw you punch tiny holes into the shells. he immediately kissed you when he saw you put them on your necklace as charms

- gets jealous easily but cover sit with a smile. he later eases into the feeling and gets over it when comfortable; however when someone new comes around the process occurs again.

↳ his jealousy isn’t normal anger, most of the time, but a longing sadness and self-deprecation, knowing that he is technically a monster in the eyes of society

- uses his seal puppy eyes (in both forms) to get what he wants from you; if you do that to him, he will squeal and literally do anything for you

- catches many fish for you and tries to outdo others as a mini way of displaying dominance; even if you don’t eat them, he still will.

- rarely talks about his true feelings and thoughts about his technical double life yet yearns for it to be resolved

↳ it’s up to you to breach that barrier and break down those walls to get him to vocalize these thoughts; after that communication is his game and you both will never not understand how the other is feeling

- has the voice of an angel and gets compliments at work (as a singer at a local bar)

↳ you get jealous when the pretty men and women go up to him and compliment/flirt. seokmin doesn’t entirely see the process of flirting and engages in conversations

↳ specifically after you both open up to each other he is able to sense your possible jealousy and politely brags about you and ropes you into the conversation

↳ sometimes he won’t though so it purposely leads to something…

- leaves his coat lying around and is patiently out of sight, waiting for you to pick it up to either hang it up, put it in his room, or when you know he is there give it or wear it

- has a habit of clapping when he laughs in both forms

- when mad he won’t say anything but you can find him often looking at the sea or in his seal form alone in his room when he thinks you aren’t there

- when you’re sad or petty-angry will turn into a seal and attempt to lay on top of you, tickling your neck with his whiskers to hear your beautiful laugh once more

- has friends who were skeptical of him having a human mate due to controversial opinions and his somewhat-gullible personality

↳ however, when seungkwan recognized you were the one friends with his vernon and chan he warmed up to you well

↳ hoshi didn’t at first and portrayed it as shyness; it wasn’t until he accidentally saw you giving seokmin’s coat back (after you guys were together) and be weary about other of their customs, he knew you were a keeper and now he won’t stop following you and keep asking to go swim with him and play fetch

↳ seokmin loves these moments of watching some of his loved ones bond but gets pouty when you pat hoshi’s form one too many times after a perfect catch

↳ seokmin will then drag you out more to practice and show off until they both want to compete with you as the ref and pitcher

- loves to circle you when swimming in his seal form; he just loves when you embrace him as he is when you cant verbally understand him

↳ even on land will unconsciously circle you playfully and always have some form of contact with you; especially when you both parade each other around.

↳ in both forms, you can imagine his wide smile and crinkling eyes as he brushes against your body

- as a child, was scared for his sister when she had to go to the surface. he knew that females were more in danger and went with her whenever he had the chance.

↳ you never met his sister or family yet. he hasn’t seen them in a while as well. sometimes, when you go to the water alone, you spot words scrawled onto the sand and you believe they may be addressed to you.

↳ when seokmin stands at the edge, tempted to fully return, he sees the same handwriting encouraging him to keep moving forward.

—————

- lets his eyes darken when you thrust your head at him whether you’re angry or joking

↳ he doesn’t have the heart (nor want you stop) to tell you that’s a sign of a female wanting to mate

- always nips your neck while his hands ensnare your waist. the first time, you turned your attention to him and he just smiled before skipping away

↳ after getting tired of his innuendos you decided to tease him back and bite his neck: you both ended up with a lot more marks later that night

↳ this new power you have found… whenever you want him in the mood just bite his neck or his biceps or thighs or just anywhere. his grunts turn into whiny moans when you bite that one sensitive spot

- makes love with you when you wear his coat; however, because you get so easily hot in it, you both can’t go for long in it. he wanted to fuck you while you wore it many times but know you can’t take the actual heat

- will nuzzle the crook of your neck after getting you both cleaned up—more kisses ensuing

- won’t feel the affects of mating season until he wears his coat. do what you want with that information and good luck.

.

.

after a few months of courting and officially being together, you researched more about selkies, desiring to understand him better. you want to read his mind. you do not dream to offend him, scared of his frail nature; as if with one small push, he would fall to the ground and shatter before scattering. after both of your efforts to make it work, you dread the thought of falling apart, crushing your perceptions of one another; it would only add more fuel to the fire regarding both of your species.

after scrounging around online, there are two conflicting hypotheses about them that caught your attention:

you hope they never come true.

1. ‘they may be reincarnations of souls of people who once drowned…coming back for mysterious reasons—good or evil.’

2. ‘eventually, selkies must return to the sea; they are to never come back till 7 years have passed.’

however, seokmin told you that selkies thrive off communication! he wouldn’t lie to you to save his own skin, right?

a/n: my first actual piece of work/draft in the notes app that i finished. i was originally gonna post a short story, but i didn’t like it,,,so i made hcs instead. that’s why you can see little bits of info that don’t make too much sense haha.

puppy dog eyes?? nah make him a water type!!!!!

i have more ideas i want to headcanon out, but i love seokmin too much; also, this being in my notes, i need to get rid of, so i can make room for svt concert vids 😋.

taglist: @jcxbliss

[aphroditelovesu]

Can I ask for a Yandere Mary Stuart general headcanons? From Reign? I love your writing! ❤️

''Love may be irrelevant to people like me, but to you it is not.'' — Mary Stuart.

❝ 👑 — lady l: here it is! You came at the right time because I'm rewatching Reign with a friend and I absolutely love Mary, so I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! Also, thank you. ❤️

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, mention of death and murder, kidnapping (?), mention of torture, overprotection.

❝👑pairing: yandere!mary stuart x gender neutral!reader.

Mary Stuart is fun, witty, and very kind to anyone who shows kindness or is unable to defend themselves. She is a Queen and behaves like one, most of the time at least. She cares a lot, listens to her heart a lot and this is dangerous, especially when you are involved. Mary is captivating and she will captivate you in one way or another.

She would hardly think that there is anything wrong with the way she feels about you, Mary would probably think that she just cares about you a lot and that's why she feels that way. But when her thoughts become darker and more graphic, when she begins to imagine the slow, painful death of that servant who was so kind to you, Mary knows that there's something wrong.

Mary may try to do something about it, but she won't. She's already suffered so much, dealt with so many bad things, so why couldn't she let herself have you? She is a Queen and does not have the privilege of being able to love freely, but you make her feel like she can. As if she was just a normal woman and not the Queen of Scotland.

She adores you, that's all. Mary loves spending her days next to you, listening to you ramble, while she lays her head on your shoulder and listens to you talk. It is Paradise itself, as far as she is concerned. You make her feel good about herself, even with those disturbing thoughts she has.

Mary would love to spoil you, it's her way of showing how much she values ​​you. Mostly letters written by her, she pours all her love into those words and will blush like a little girl when she hands it to you. She always gives them directly to you, as she doesn't trust anyone but you.

You are the only person she truly trusts, her best friend and confidant, you are the only person who knows all her secrets and who she turns to whenever there is a problem or needs advice. You are the one who has all the power over her and she is happy to allow it.

Mary is kind and benevolent, a fair Queen, but she can and will become ruthless in some situations and one of those situations is when you are involved. She will not be partial at any time and will remain firmly by your side and defend you with claws and nails. And everyone knows that annoying her doesn't usually end well.

She will be quick to be cruel and protective, ordering the torture and death of any poor soul who crosses her path, your path. Mary will not tolerate any possible threats to you or her. You belonged to her and she was going to make sure the message was clear.

She is paranoid about your safety, having experienced many fears and horrors herself, Mary will not allow you to suffer the same as her. If she can keep you locked in a place only where she can see you, she will. She is fully aware that it is not right, but her fears overwhelm any rational thought she may have.

Mary is quite possessive and this becomes more than obvious when you hear her reprimanding a servant who accidentally touched your arm. She is incredibly possessive over you and will make it very clear to everyone who you belong to. If her hard look doesn't do the trick, Mary will resort to other, more definitive means. She will have no remorse, however. Hands stained with innocent blood will mean nothing as long as she can hold you in her arms.

She always needs to have you around, you are a comfort and what keeps her together when she faces something difficult and painful. Knowing that you are there for her is enough for her. Mary had become increasingly demanding of your presence, going so far as to publicly ask for your opinion on matters of state, even if you are not a noble. This shows how much she values ​​you.

Mary is a calm person and usually acts straight, but she goes from 80 to 180 when it comes to you very quickly. She has no control over how she feels about you and will just let her overwhelming feelings and dark thoughts dominate her. But if you remain willingly with her, she'll be willing to try to fight them.

If something were to happen to you, may God have mercy on their souls, because Mary won't. She will be unstoppable and everyone will know the bad side of the Queen of Scots. Mary will only stop when she has you back safe and sound, and even then her desire for revenge will not be completely satisfied. No one messes with what belongs to a Queen and gets away with it. And Mary will make sure they don't end up alive.