#but this is some rlly cool theorising | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

artyandink · 7 months ago

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Hey, Zep!

😂😂 Oh Beau. This exchange made me grin. What's extra funny about this for me is that I've written a similar joke with Beau and hat-eating! Ah, how I love this cowboy sheriff. 🤠

This bit also had me cackling (I laugh at my own writing sometimes), and yep, we love our cowboy.

Aghhhh fuck! Not another "Michael" situation (pardon me for again referencing my own story with TMH, but this took me there immediately). Men are just "awesome" aren't they? 🙃🙃 I don't blame her for just focusing on Olivia from there on out.

Yeah, we don’t exactly love cheating men. Especially not the likes of Harry and Michael (I don’t mind you referencing TMH, dw) and yeah, Olivia’s a sweetheart. She deserves some love.

Also, I love, love, love "Landslide," and Fleetwood. That scene between Isabelle and Olivia was very heartfelt and some sweet hurt/comfort there. I like how you brought it back to Olivia's perspective (and trauma) in all of this.

I listened to the song, loved it and thought it fit rlly well! And yep, I wanted it to be how Olivia felt. She didn’t get to see her mom’s body. Elle had to endure it, but Liv had to theorise how it happened. I also wanted some aunt-niece bonding there.

😨😨 BRO! Even as a joke, that wasn't cool at all! Beau made up for it well, but damn. 😅 At least he's being very supportive in accompanying her to meet her wayward father.

Mhmm. That was an out of pocket moment, especially since it sent Elle spiralling for a mo’ (oopsie). And, if you pardon me…

CARRY ON MY WAYWARD SON-

Ahem.

But that meeting with asshole Cal was tense. It had me wondering why the hell he's here now, since he's been absent for so long. However, as we got to that action-packed cliffhanger, I'm thinking he must be connected to the criminals who shot Belle in the first place...

Well, we’ll just have to see, won’t we?

Light My Fire (Again) | beau arlen

Summary: “I thought I’d swore off love, Jenny.” I smiled, chuckling a bit as I looked down to my feet then back up the skies, taking in the twinkling lights. “God, I really thought I did, and I was doing such a good job at it too. But, well, I just… I couldn’t help it.” I wet my lips slightly, biting the bottom one. “It’s improper, but it’s true.”

SERIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

(divider credits go to cafekitsune)

A/N - Feedback is my fuel ❤️

three - landslide

PREVIOUSLY ON LMF:

I looked down at my hands, the hands that could’ve stopped everything, stopped her suffering, the hands that were only a flight of stairs and a trip down the hall away. My ignorance at the time was crippling. The cruel thought that Lucy was safe and sound. It resulted in Olivia losing her mom and everything she knew, and having to live with her auntie.

Not that I’m not the best option, but if I’d picked up my metaphorical magnifying glass and looked closer, I’d see. See that things were wrong. Someone was after her, I didn’t know who, but one psycho was out to kill her, and succeeded.

The one of many times someone’s success felt like it twisted my heartstrings. The worst success.

I remembered the desperation that I had when I first investigated Lucy’s murder. The wild look I had in my eyes when I spotted myself in the mirror, and then one like a wounded animal when I wound up battered in a hospital. I didn’t want to go through that again. Not the false hope that I’d get somewhere. I didn’t need it, I didn’t want it, I couldn’t handle it. I’d possibly go feral if I found out the truth, but all the same, Lucy needed me. It was always me and her. When she was nineteen and I was eleven , not wanting to let her go because she was everything I had and more.

I hadn’t had that stable of a home life growing up. My dad cheated on my mom with his secretary and left her when I was three. Mom did the next best thing to dealing with the loss of her husband, which was filling herself brain high with any booze she could find. Lucy had taken the job of taking care of me, and she did a damn good job at it. Even got rewarded with an apple pie, white picket fence life to boot. I couldn’t have been happier for her, because she deserved every bit of happiness she got.

Even if I didn’t want to deal with the inevitable pain of investigating into my sister’s murder, I owed it to her. I needed to bring whoever killed her to justice.

I reached for my phone, dialling the first person that came to mind who’d help me with this case. I bit my lip, jogging my leg as I waited for him to pick up. ‘Hey, darlin’.’ I heard Beau’s voice from the other end, cherry as ever. ‘What can I do for ya?’

“Hey, Sheriff.” I breathed out, looking at the cassette player with stony eyes. “What d’you say to reopening a cold case?”

I slammed a dusty, yet rather small, file down on my desk, with Jenny and Beau gathered around it. “This is what I have from six years ago. My sister, found by me in the backyard, eleven stab wounds in her chest. Cameras were off, no prints, killer didn’t go through the garden as there were no prints. It rained that night, so footprints were washed away.”

“Tough case, huh?” Beau sighed, folding his arms. “No prints, no murder weapon at the scene- the killer ain’t giving you much to work with.”

“No kidding.” Jenny looked over the case files. “Lucy didn’t have any enemies, by what this file says.”

“She didn’t.” I shook my head, sitting on the table. “Luce, she was… an angel, to say the least. Kind to everyone, always optimistic. I’ll be damned if anyone hated her.”

“No motive.” Beau muttered, looking up at me with slightly raised eyebrows. “Could this just be a random crazed psycho?”

“No.” I shook my head again, rubbing my chin. “Can’t be. Whoever it was knew how to get inside the house and through to the back. Only somebody who knew Lucy could do that. Somebody I know or someone she knew murdered her, and I ain’t resting until I find them.”

“Do we at least have any leads?” Jenny rubbed her forehead, looking over to me. “Any at all?”

“The cassette.” I shrugged. “It’s the last thing she left to me, and judging by the sounds behind the voice, it’s Lucy’s 42nd birthday party. I remember it, Mark was doin’ bad karaoke in the living room.”

“So this is essentially a note, but no suicide involved.”

“Somebody was sending threats.” Beau figured out, pointing at the case file with his pencil. “Think about it. Her voice ain’t exactly chirpy in that recording. Maybe a threat was sent, that she was gonna die soon.”

“A necklace.” My head perked up, my fingers snapping. “One of ‘em, it contained a raven’s feather. Or some of it. Lucy was a folklore major.”

“So she’d know it symbolises death and/or loss.” Jenny added, nodding. “That’s a start.”

“That also narrows it down.” Beau nodded, all of us going into a rhythm. “Somebody had to know she’d understand this reference, which also means someone close to her- good work, Belle.” He patted my knee proudly, giving me a broad smile. “At least you’re closer than you were before.”

“Hold on, though.” I held up a hand, frowning as a thought piqued my interest. “If that’s the case, if Lucy wanted to warn me… why now? Why at Olivia’s sweet sixteen?”

“Maybe it was something personal, something important to her.” Jenny shrugged, running a hand through her hair. “Maybe she wanted Olivia’s sixteenth to go smoothly, as if some threat would resurface at that time.”

“That’s what’s stumping me. Which person who we both know would possibly wanna harm my sister? Me, I’d understand, I don’t get on with everyone, but Lucy? Doesn’t make a lick of sense.”

“Is Lucy’s phone still kept safe?” Beau asked, deep in thought. “Maybe there’s some voicemails on there.”

“I’ll have to dig them up.” I replied before hearing a ping on my phone. I took it out, seeing the name lighting up on the screen, which made my eyes widen. I hadn’t seen this name in ages, not since eleven years. Not since I was 29, and I don’t know why I saved the number.

“Who is it, darlin’?” Beau frowned slightly, his lips also pouting imperceptibly as his eyes flickered down to my phone.

“Again with the darlin’?” Jenny chastised, and he let out a small noise in protest. My eyes were glued to my screen, trying to figure out if I was seeing things right. Jenny confirmed for me, snatching the phone out of my hand and taking a look at it, her eyes widening when she saw the name. “Cal Joyner.”

“The cheating dad Cal Joyner?”

“Yeah.” I nodded breathily. “He’s… here. In Montana.”

“Your dad in town, the cassette tape, this can’t be a coincidence. If it is, I’ll eat my hat. And trust me,” He chuckled deeply, “I love my hat.”

“There’s also how you can’t eat a hat.” Jenny contradicted with a judging look.

“I’m the sheriff, Hoyt, I will eat my hat if I damn well please.”

“Right, let’s get off the subject of eating hats.” I interrupted with a snicker. “I’ll talk to Cassie, see if I can get her and Denise to maybe research into possible news stories surrounding Lucy’s death. Maybe also get them to help with figuring out why my deadbeat dad is in town. You guys maybe look through the case files or whatever you can scavenge, see if you can find anything worthwhile.” I raised an eyebrow, looking between them expectantly. “Sound good?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

I didn’t find Denise at the desk in Dewell and Hoyt HQ, so I went straight to Cassie’s office, knocking before opening the door to find… Cassie and Cormac mid-make out. They jumped apart, wiping their lips while Cassie got off the desk, trying to act as if nothing happened.

Well, it’s not everyday that you catch two grown ass people making out on a frickin’ desk.

“Woah, Cassie, get some.” I teased, leaning against the doorframe with a grin. “You too, Cormac, haven’t forgotten you. Montana’s Thor Odinson- now, would you be a stud and give Cass and I a mo’?”

“Gladly.” Cormac hurried out, and I closed the door behind him, turning to Cassie with s as chuckle.

She opened her mouth to speak, but I waved her off. “Beau and Jenny won’t hear a thing.”

“Thank you.” She smiled in relief, breathing out with her hand on her chest.

“You’re welcome. Now, we have a bit of a problem.” I frowned, running a hand through my hair. “We’re reopening my sister’s case.”

“Oh, damn.”

“Indeed. We’ll need all the info we can get from you and Denise on the matter. My dad’s in town too, so I’ll have to see what’s up with that.”

“Wait- Cal Joyner?” Cassie raised an eyebrow, folding her arms. “Cheated on your mom, left when you were three Cal Joyner?”

“The very same.” I nodded, making a face that said I was feeling awkward. You lot can put that to your imagination. “Yeah, so I have to find out why he’s in town now when evidence from my sister’s case has suddenly resurfaced.”

“I’ll get on that with Denise.”

“Yeah, and I’m sorry I interrupted your getting on with Cormac.” I winked with a smirk, unfazed when she looked at me in exasperation.

“You’re not going to let me live that down, are you?” She sighed.

“No, absolutely not.”

I was sitting on my living room couch at midnight, flicking through my photo album of when I was growing up. Lucy’s broad smile and shining eyes when she saw baby me in Mom’s arms just after I was born. Another my first birthday, and Lucy was helping me blow out the candles. Lucy’s eleventh birthday, the last time Lucy was innocent and unassuming before Dad made off with his mistress. Lucy’s sweet sixteen, where she celebrated with Dean, her current best friend, me, a couple of family members and friends, including Mark, who was our next door neighbour’s son at the time. It was safe to say that Mark had always harboured a deep seated jealousy of Dean.

My eyes landed on a photo of Harry and I at a bar, and my heart felt like it was breaking all over again. The guy’s brunette hair and laughing brown eyes had always pierced my heart in a way that I couldn’t fathom. It hurt to know that those eyes didn’t look at me the way they used to anymore.

Harry was the first and last relationship I had after my sister was killed. After the car crash and I was in a bad place, which I labelled as the ‘withdrawal symptoms’ of stopping my investigation, I found him in an unexpected collision in a mall. He brightened everything somehow, made me feel like the only girl in the world until I found a text in his phone along with a very inappropriate picture.

Rhea: See you tonight, handsome ;)

I couldn’t help but think that he was just pitying me, pretending so he’d get the satisfaction that he helped someone to some extent. But here I was, moping over a guy like I was some hormonal teenager rather than a mature 40 year old. For a relationship that didn’t even feel real at this point.

After that point, I’d sworn off love and men entirely, instead deciding to focus on Olivia. The beautiful little girl who was my last blood reminder of my sister. Well, the last morally sound reminder. For the first three years, in the pursuit of my sister’s murderer, I’d neglected what I really needed to preserve. So I’d set up a rule - that men weren’t my priority.

“Aunt Isa?” Olivia was at the door to the living room, rubbing her eyes tiredly. I sat up, frowning as I saw her looking exhausted but freaked.

“Yeah, sweetheart? It’s late; are you ok?” I asked softly, my motherly instincts kicking in as I saw her trembling slightly. I didn’t wait for a response, setting the album aside and opening my arms. “C’mere, darlin’.” She hurried over, curling up in my arms. I held her tight to me, stroking her hair as I rubbed her back, my chin resting on her head as I let her calm down a bit. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“Nightmare. About mom’s death.”

“You didn’t see your mom dyin’, sweetie.” I kissed her hair lovingly. “It wasn’t real.”

“I imagined it. Filled in the blanks, and it was like I was watching.” I heard her voice tremble, which broke my heart at every quiver. I hated seeing my baby girl upset.

“Oh, Liv.” I whispered, kissing her forehead. “Sweetheart, I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry you had to imagine that.”

“Is this how you felt?” She questioned timidly, looking up at me, her blue eyes pleading me to be honest. “When you… when you found her?”

I paused, thinking about it. “If I was to describe it, it’d be like my world’s walls were fallin’ down. It was that, plain and simple. Your mom, she was an angel. Like you, she never truly got mad, she cared no matter what you did, she gave a lot of credit where it ain’t due. She took care of me even when I was your age and mopin’ about for no apparent reason, even though she worked a job. She couldn’t be more prouder of you, wherever she is.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.” I nuzzled my cheek on her head. “You’re such a beautiful girl, Liv. So smart, and kind, I know for a fact that if your mother was here, she’d never wanna let you go.” I stroked her hair, remembering Lucy. Her smile, her laugh, her tendency to call everyone ‘love’ because she had a damn lot to give herself, her frightened voice when making the tape…

I couldn’t focus on that. Instead, I hugged Olivia tight, focusing on her. She needed to feel safe. Deserved to feel safe, and that was what I could do for her. I started to softly sing the song that Lucy sang Liv when she was a baby, gently rocking her. It was Landslide, by Fleetwood Mac.

“I took my love, I took it down, I climbed a mountain and I turned around. And I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hills 'til the landslide brought me down...”

I was sitting in Jenny’s kitchen with Beau and Jenny, of course, the latter busy making lunch since I’d handled our breakfast. I was, again, scrolling on my Instagram, most of my feed Harry and Rhea the redhead. The guy even had the audacity to tag me in a photo, which I didn’t respond to or react to. Beau’s eyes followed mine, locking on the screen with a frown. “That’s Harry the jackass. Why are you lookin’ at photos of Harry the jackass?”

“He’s with the redhead he cheated on me with. Rhea.” I explained with a sigh, and he snatched the phone, not giving me time to protest as he looked at Rhea with an unreadable expression on his face. Then he smirked, nodding.

“I see the appeal.” He chuckled, looking at me playfully. Jenny gasped in horror, swatting his arm while I looked at him incredulously, taken aback by his audacity. “I mean, she’s gorgeous-”

“Beau!” Jenny scolded while I looked away, starting to internally panic. He… thought Rhea was gorgeous? Did he really? Was Harry justified in leaving me because I wasn’t good enough?

“I’m messin’ with you!” Beau raised his hands in surrender, taking another look at the photo before handing my phone back to me. “Sweetheart, Harry the jackass doesn’t even know who he’s lost. This Rhea girl? Doesn’t even hold a candle to you. She’s an LA three, or a Texas one. You are a ten in both worlds, darlin’. He doesn’t deserve you.”

“Thanks, Sheriff.” I sighed in relief, rubbing my face. Jenny patted Beau’s shoulder, giving him a look that said ‘I was about to rip your head off’. “You got me there for a second.”

“I got Hoyt too.”

“Yes, he did.” Jenny nodded, glaring playfully at Beau. “If you’d said that truthfully, no joking, I’d rain down hellfire.”

“Well, I’m glad I was just poking some fun.” Beau smirked, then patted my knee. “You’re gorgeous, Southern Belle. Ain’t no messing around there.”

I was about to smile and give him a compliment back, but I got a call from Cassie, and I picked it up, putting it to my ear. “Talk to me, Cassie.” I said, taking a breath out while a small chuckle threatened to escape my mouth.

‘Hey. Uh, Cormac just spotted your father at the Blue Fox Diner.’

“Cormac, huh?”

‘Yes. Now, we’re keeping an eye on him, but you should get over here quick.’

“Gotcha.” I nodded, then cut the call, turning to Beau. “Sheriff, can I have you as backup? So I don’t blow up at my dad?”

“Yeppers, let’s go meet the man who ruined your life so I can make him feel guilty.” He stood up, slinging his jacket over his shoulders.

“Beau, as be nice as you can.” Jenny chastised, but he shrugged.

“Sorry, Hoyt, no can do. If she hates him,” Beau made finger guns at me, “then I hate him.” He turned the finger guns on himself. “Can’t help it, it’s principle. Now, c’mon, Belle. Let’s meet this dude.”

I walked into Blue Fox diner, Beau rubbing his hands in excitement. “D’you mind if I get one of them there sandwiches?” He looked like a giddy schoolboy, and I rolled my eyes with a smile and nodded. Beau was always a sucker for Donno’s sandwiches. As he practically skipped off to get one, I found Donno staring at me. I locked eyes with him, then he broke into a small smile.

“Elle.” He said in a deadpan voice that did not match his face, but I’d come to know over the past two months that Donno was a lot more compassionate than he let on.

“Donno.” I grinned, feeling more at ease. “Nice to see you again.”

“You too.” His eyes went down to my stomach, where I found that my hand was resting protectively over my healing bullet wound. “You were shot.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “Are you ok?”

“I was shot, good eye.” I nodded, chuckling as I looked down at my feet. “But hey, I’m doing fine. Healing.”

“Good. I don’t like seeing you hurt.” Then he pointed to a booth, where a balding man was sitting. “That’s your dad. If you’re looking for him.”

I gave him a genuine smile, my eyes furtively glancing to that booth. “Thanks, Donno.”

“You and Sheriff. You make a good couple.”

I didn’t really know what to say to that. “Uh… thank you, but we’re not a couple.” And with the awkwardness now in play, I turned on my heel and met up with Beau, who was now holding a sandwich and munching on it. I nudged him, nodding to the booth which Donno had led me to, and he clocked Cal instantly. His eyes narrowed, and he swallowed his bite as we sat down. “Cal Joyner.”

“Can I help you?” He asked, looking between Beau and I with a confused expression.

“Sheriff Beau Arlen, sir.” Beau introduced coldly, his eyes steely as he looked at my father with pure disdain in his eyes. I’d mentioned my family history to him, which made him have a deep seated hatred with my dad.

“Deputy Isabelle Joyner.” I added, which, as expected, made Cal’s eyes widen as he sat up straighter, a wide grin cracking on his face.

“Isabelle?” He whispered, tilting his head as he scanned me. “You’re… oh, God. It’s really you. My little girl.”

“Back up for a moment, cowboy, I’m not here for a family reunion.” I frowned, drumming on the table with my fingers. “I’m here to know why you’re in town. My last contact with you was eleven years ago, and that was on a voice call.”

“It was my granddaughter’s sixteenth birthday.” He excused, looking at me incredulously while his fingers played with his collar, and I locked on the mannerism immediately. “I had to visit, right? But this town’s so big, i-it’s hard to find anybody-”

“You’re lying.” Beau pointed out, expression unchanging. Cal turned to him with an outraged expression.

“Excuse me, young man?”

“Flattered, but I’m forty. Ain’t that young.”

“He’s right, Cal. You’re lying.” I frowned, my fingers still tapping out an insistent rhythm on the table. After all these years, he’d had a character arc going from scumbag to scumbag.

“Isabelle.” Cal gasped in disbelief. “Cupcake, you’ll believe this man over your father?”

“Not to be cheesy, but this man is one of the most noble men I know, so I’m sure I can trust him over a man who’s been out of my life for thirty seven years.” Cal was ready to convince me otherwise, but I held up my hand. “You’re fiddling with your collar. First sign of anxiety and possible lying. Big Sky is rather a small place, everyone knows everyone, so I don’t see how it would take you long to find me. Third, defensiveness. Trying to detach me from someone I trust- so tell me, how can I trust you?”

“You can’t.” He whispered, but his eyes, which I shared (to my disgust), looked into mine with a silent plea. Which I ignored.

“There it is. The one thing I couldn’t do and never did: trust you.” I scoffed, and Beau leaned forward, taking the lead.

“See here, Mr Joyner, you are Belle’s father, and I will respect you that much, but a lot’s happened that somehow coincides with your arrival.” He explained with a low, intimidating tone. I glanced towards him, taking in his set jaw and raised finger. “Now, you’re gonna tell your daughter why you came back after all this damn time or we’re gonna find out usin’ methods that you won’t approve of, ie hard questioning and digging into the evidence we have, which I bet will uncover some nasty secrets.”

“It’s good that you elaborated.”

“Yeah, it is. Now, Mr Joyner, you need to speak up before we find out ourselves.” Before Cal could reply, we heard a loud bang and a scuffle, and when my head turned, I saw Donno wrestling a guy with a gun to the ground. Beau turned to me, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Stay put.”

“You know I can’t do that.” I protested, reaching for my own holster, but he grabbed my wrist with a warning look. I wanted to argue, but I knew what he was insinuating. I wasn’t healed yet, so I couldn’t fight.

“Stay. Put.” He then pulled out his gun, holding it up at the assailant. “Sheriff’s department, hands where I can see ‘em!” My eyes were locked on him, ready to jump in and help if need be while Donno was growling at the man for almost pulling a gun on me. I saw Tonya getting up from her chair, pointing behind me with a gasp.

“Elle!” She cried out, looking terrified. “Behind you!” I whipped around only for my head to snap back around, the muzzle of a gun connecting with my temple. My vision went blurry as my head spun, but I could make out an unfamiliar figure in the haze that I instantly tackled blindly, collapsing onto the floor in an undignified heap coupled by what felt like a gigantic needle through the hole in my stomach. I coughed for a moment, my hand covering the area as I was roughly rolled onto my back amid the struggle between Donno, Beau and the assailant. I managed to make out the silver glint of a knife, so I quickly crossed my forearms over one another and held them over my face so I could catch it just in time.

After what was a struggle for a few seconds, the guy seemed to have a change of heart, throwing the knife aside and getting me in the temple again with a gloved fist this time.

Neither of them felt great.

I heard Cal protesting against something, and Beau’s shouts as the former was seemingly roughly dragged away, my vision going from blurry to borderline black as I tried to recall… what the guy looked like. I could remember… grey hair, possibly Mexican… or Hispanic… strong… build… 6’ 4”…

“Belle! Stay with me, damn it! This is Sheriff Arlen, I need paramedics and backup…”

LMF TAGLIST:

@deans-spinster-witch @hobby27 @nancymcl @winharry

Let me know if you want to join the taglist, and do reblog or comment with your feedback, I’d appreciate it! Comment if you want an author’s cut :)

Love, Arty 💕

#zepskies reads #lovely reader #love the feedback #reader appreciation #light my fire

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tyrannuspitch · 3 years ago

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been reading abt this one genetic study and it is rlly interesting but also bc using modern genetics to infer stuff abt history is something i'm Aware you have to be Cautious of it does kind of result in me having Knowledge that i don't feel entirely comfortable thinking of as Knowledge. which is a v weird state of mind. esp when some of the original phrasing was already really cautiously vague.

(cut to ramble abt boring things i am in no way qualified to teach)

like okay time to ramble: i found it bc as part of a long slowburn identity crisis i got rlly frustrated with what little i know of history & not having a clue where to place myself in it - like, england has had so many different waves of migration and changes of regime, and also aristocracy-focused history isn't always good at even distinguishing between those, and if we don't even know which of those groups we're descended from... do we know anything??? (eg: fucking druids wld be talking abt The Old Ways and i'd be sitting here like. okay even if you weren't glorified wiccans, are they "the Old Ways"? are they??? is that our history or someone else's entirely? like, literally, i don't have any particular interest in doing this, but if i theoretically WERE to try and return to the religion of my prechristian ancestors, should i reconstruct druidry or heathenry or smthn else entirely?)

SO i basically wanted to ask how much, if at all, are the modern english descended from the various groups who have lived here. Who The Fuck Actually Are We

and i did basically get a cautious answer! (after finding better scicomm than the fucking guardian, which didn't even take enough care to clearly separate "english and cornish" from "british". fuck the guardian.) the actual conclusions we can pretty safely draw re: this question are:

1. the modern english have a v high level of similarity with other peoples of the uk (the study said "british isles" but roi was not counted), much of which appears to be v ancient dna, which means the genetic evidence directly contradicts the old theory that the anglo-saxons completely displaced/wiped out the britons of england. which is nice. love when my ancestors do not commit genocide on my other ancestors

2. the genetic "clusters" in england and cornwall showed a significant minority of dna (less as you travel north) theorised to be anglo-saxon - "between 10% and 40%". which, like i was saying, is both Information and Non Information. "congratulations participants, you're helping our understanding of history evolve bc you're def partly descended from the ancient britons but you also appear to have some anglo-saxon ancestry!" "oh cool. how much?" "oh you know... some". i know it doesn't matter in the real world but sjfkflshlk damn historic population geneticists u live like this? (they weren't even saying "25% +/- 15%". didn't even give us an average. just like. somewhere in this range lol)

(okay actually i am in Explaining Mode so here goes. afaict part of the problem is they're not even sure which common ancestry to be counting. only clusters in england/cornwall have any northern german common ancestry, but everyone in the uk has danish common ancestry - BUT the danish dna is significantly higher than average in groups w n.german dna. so the problem is: what's ancient, what's anglo-saxon, could any of it be viking? we just don't know.)

(they might have been able to tell by dating it but idk if they tried. and also some of their other dating was coming out Wonky - eg iirc the n.german dna is mostly dated to abt 300 years after anglo-saxon migration ended. so what's going on? did the two communities just take a v long time to integrate, or is something afoot?)

(also, of course - england is pretty genetically homogenous but there is still Some variety by region in this genetic component so making a sweeping statement abt "the english" is hard.)

3. there is a Mystery ComponentTM that makes up a larger segment than the alleged anglo-saxon dna, is found in england, scotland and northern ireland BUT not wales (so it's not just Basic British Ingredients), and matches northern france? i think they're guessing prehistoric migration for that. idk if they dated it. Hmmmm. ~Mystery DNA~

4. methodological info if you're concerned: they used participants from rural areas whose grandparents had all been born in the 50mile radius from them, so region-specific info should be p trustworthy, and the sample size was over 2000. they also found their "clusters" algorithmically and then plotted them back onto the map, so there shouldn't be confirmation bias there.)

(if i *were* to complain, looking at their map... scotland and wales have some gaps in them. some significant gaps.)

5. smthn we might genuinely be concerned abt in the analysis of these results - are we taking the results from places we know to have a historical migration as more meaningful than those we don't? looking at the results shows me every single cluster has a small but significant portion of common ancestry with modern belgium, maybe 1/12. (i'm looking at blurry pie charts, that's my best guess lol.) no analysis i've read has mentioned it.

on the other hand - idk anything abt the history of belgium but i wld not be at all surprised if their genetics were basically somewhere between germany and france, and we've already discussed both those places.

plus, possibly more relevantly - they DID scan for similarities with various other countries in europe and didn't find them. eg, no signficant/detectable common ancestry with the finnish. so if it's showing up at all, let alone as 10% or more, it's more than just random noise.

so it's knowledge but it's not knowledge but it's /more/ knowledge than not knowledge? yeah. i'm having a great time

6. assorted fun(?) facts for those who made it this far:

-the most unique place genetically they found was orkney (note: there were no participants from shetland), who showed ~25% norwegian ancestry, followed by wales, who as we remember have no Mystery DNA.

-the differences between cornwall and devon were minor, but they were definitely there and they followed modern county line p much perfectly!

-there were two different clusters in northern ireland and the west of scotland, but they DIDN'T break down into ireland vs scotland. it looked more like it might be a highland/lowland gael/gall thing. i don't know if they checked if the n.irish respondents were catholic or protestant but uhh probably better not to all things considered

-no matter how minutely you break down genetic differences, there is a large group covering much of england that is basically homogenous. you can tell genetically which island in orkney someone's from, but you can't tell the difference between people from north yorkshire and people from kent.

okay this has been a poorly explained ramble if you'd like to read the damn thing yourself it's this: https://peopleofthebritishisles.web.ox.ac.uk/population-genetics

nb that is their website for laypeople, i've looked at a few different interpetations of this but i haven't looked at the actual paper (yet? dk if i can be bothered going deeper. we'll see)

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