#but with that said i see no reason to believe george Should have known how she really felt

[calamitydaze]

long tag ramble below u have been warned

[moontopuff]

YOU'VE CHOSEN: GEORGE WEASLEY

WHEN HE REALIZED HE LIKES YOU

I think he realized it on a normal evening, you were sitting in Gryffindor common room with twins; you on the couch, Fred on the armchair of course, and George sitting on a carpet in front of you. They were talking about their new invention; Fred mostly talked about the outcome of said thing and how testing was going, meanwhile, George was talking about how he came up with the idea. It wasn't much known in the Hogwart, but George was better at potions; better at making them and changing proportions to make something new.

you, of course, knew that, but you couldn't help but see that sometimes George was a little bit shy about his knowledge, as if it would make him a not good enough Weasley twin or something. Honestly, you couldn't know.

but, u didn't want him to feel any less because of this, so, you were listening intently to the origin story of making up this new thing, and when he ended you complimented him:

“Honestly, it’s all in the potion proportions!” George declared, his eyes lighting up as he spoke. You leaned closer, captivated, sensing the flicker of uncertainty in his voice. He always seemed to second-guess his brilliance, as if it might be too much for the room. “That’s so cool, George! You really know your stuff,” you said, breaking in as Fred rambled on about the grand plans for their next prank. “What if you added more of the—what was it—Gillyweed? Would it be more dangerous, or would it just go kaboom?” George blinked, taken aback by your enthusiasm, a shy smile creeping onto his face. His cheeks flushed a soft pink, and he rubbed the back of his neck, clearly not expecting your genuine interest. “Maybe both!” he replied, a hint of excitement in his voice. It was a quick reaction, and to mask the sudden warmth in his cheeks, he slid back into his usual, mischievous teasing self. “Ohh, should I expect you to get a crush on me now, for my incredible potion skills?” You rolled your eyes, laughter bubbling up. “Shut up, George!” you shot back, a playful smile on your lips. With a grin, you turned to Fred. “Now we know who the smarter twin is~” George’s laughter mingled with yours, as Fred pouted. As 'smarter' twin met your gaze and saw your smile, something shifted in him—a spark of something deeper, something new, and he wasn't just sure if he liked it or not

CRUSHING ON YOU:

he gives you sweet but joking-sounding compliments, wanting to make you smile/blush but not being obvious with it

started seeking your presence in every room; the great hall, classes, outside, or quidditch playground. He just wanted to see you, hoped to see you, and was over the moon when he actually saw you

after that one time you complimented his potion skills; every time twins show you their new invention he unconsciously seeks your compliment. He may not know this himself, but you realized it, after one time you didn't say anything about his role in the thing, and he looked like a pouting, sad puppy...

him actually beaming after you compliment him

sometimes, his eyes subconsciously drop to your lips when talking to you

George would start helping you carry your books to classes. He would reason it, that he's doing it for something else you did (u never have idea what he's talking about), but he just doesn't want to admit it yet.

his heartbeat faster every time you suddenly touch him or show him any affection. Of course, he hides it with his usual playful expression, but he leans in your touch, and just hopes you're obvious to that

when it's crowded in the hall, he likes to put his hand on the small of your back to make sure you don’t get separated. First time he did it, you were flustered as crazy, and he didn't even realize what he did until you were already in the class! When he realized, he just joked that it's because you're getting lost too easily, but do you really believe in that...?

Him getting flustered yet excited to see you cheering over him (and Fred) during Quidditch matches. When it's a hot moment you even call his twins names, and it helps his determination (he has to win for you)

teacher catching him gazing lovingly at you. Sometimes they just let it slide because *young love*, but sometimes they ask him what he's doing and he comes up with an excuse or just shrugs

He’d find himself staring at you even in the Great Hall, as everyone is eating, and isn't it quite something for one of the Gryffindors to stare lovingly at Hufflepuff table?

unconsciously starts talking and thinking more about you when you aren't around. Like, the classes you don't share together, and something happens and he's like "Y/N would scrunch her nose and giggle at that, I can just see it" or while you eat at your house table, and George casually starts talking about you to Fred and Jordan "Isn't she clumsy, lately? Nearly fall on her face while going today to the library!" not realizing his obvious puppy eyes.

George, being the more emotional twin, enjoys just being his calm, sometimes worried or serious self with you. He's happy that you don't only like him (and Fred) for being funny guys, but also like him when he's too tired or too worried of being a fun guy. He likes having emotional and serious conversations with you.

CONFESSING TO YOU

He didn't want to confess to you for the longest time, not because he's shy, but because he's insecure. He loves Fred more than anything, but he can't help but sometimes feel that people prefer him. And so, he was bloody terrified, that you would be just another person who would prefer his twin. And he couldn't hear you say it, because it would break him, he knew that.

so it wasn't until Fred finally decided to speak with him about matter. Encourage him, tell him that Geroge is your favourite twin and it's obvious to everyone. And after a few days of that, he finally confessed to you.

people would assume that being Weasley twin, George would be confident and confess with a boom, but no. At said time he felt like nervous wreck, feeling his palms sweating, and his tongue-tied as if hexed. Nonetheless, one evening, as you two were strolling through the school grounds, he finally confessed with a nervous smile.

And you? Well... You couldn't be happier.

YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH HIM

simp, soft bf, pouting when you're annoyed at him

loves you to the moon and back

compliments you everyday, from general to very specific things

"You're the most beautiful person in the Great Hall.""That mole you have on [place] suits you well. I love it. Can I kiss it?"

after you two started dating, he started doing unconscious things, like fixing your clothes after hugging you or having out session, and also fixing your hair when the wind makes it all in your face. It's like breathing for him

Forehead kisses. holding hands always. back hugs at random times.

You were already comfortable with him as friend, but now, as you are with him, you feel that you can turn off your brain, and be hundred percent sure that he will make sure you will not get hurt.

he’ll never ever cross your boundaries (unless you want him too?)

he’s in touch with his emotions, so you’ve probably seen him cry and be furious a few times.

somehow you made a habit of napping on each other's shoulders. Sometimes even on each other's thighs...

he always lean into your touch, even when he's with his brother or friends. he would never be embarrassed of loving you

normally isn't easy to be flustered, but when it comes to you... well, let me tell you, that you have your ways of making his cheeks pink

as your bf he will sometimes do silly, gentleman things like; holding an open door for you, trying to stall stairs for you so u can make it on time, or leave some cute paper charms on your table.

will treat you like royalty you are

when you're too tired to get back to your own common room, he would give you a piggy back ride

pretty sure, he would give you massages when you're tired (in exchange for a kiss ;))

he wants to know even more about you

wanting to - somehow - be part of your hobby. For example; if u like reading, he would ask you to read out loud for him, or ask to borrow your fav book, so you would have a new share topic to talk about. And if you like make-up, he will gladly let you use himself as your model (and will be pretty serious if you ask him which look you did, he prefers!). And if you like sports/quidditch, he will train with you or be your biggest cheerleader. He just wants to support you.

so he may, or may not, make this invention especially for you (not for the prank, but to brighten your day and make you smile)

tickle fights

you wearing his jumpers, obv

holds your hand when anxious

now that you're together, he doesn't only stare lovingly at you at classes, but also holds your hand under the desk

cheering for him in every Quidditch game and even wearing his shirt to show your support (unless it's against Hufflepuff... then you're supporting both teams)

him showing off on his broom, making sure you're looking at him

him flying straight to you, after the end of the game (includes sweaty kisses)

your outside make-out sessions are often interrupted by curious animals coming closer to you (he's used to it, he knows that animals just like you, but can't they be curious when he doesn't have his tongue in your mouth??)

you stealing some food from Kitchens and bring it to your bf, when you know he's working on their new intention (he often forgets about eating)

him being surprised seeing you as if it was the first time, but tiredly grinning at you, giving you a quick kiss, and a strong hug, to keep himself going through the night

him grinning at you lovingly, as he's observing you naming the plant he gave you

if u have an allergy to something or just don't like specific food, he makes sure Molly knows it before he invites you to burrow. He may be a tricker but he knows when to hold himself, because he never wants to seriously hurt you or upset you

as his partner, you're making it to the stadium of Molly's favourite in-laws, placing you next to Harry & Hermione

overall, he loves you like crazy, you understand each other and support each other, love full of cuddles and emotional support

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

If you would like to read again how you met twins and how friendship with them looked like: [Click]

If you decided to change the twin: [Fred Weasley route]

[chilling-seavey]

Clash of Perspectives: Analyzing the Dual Narratives Behind the Verstappen and Russell Public Dispute

Disclaimer: This 'essay' is entirely my opinion, aimed to be from an unbiased point of view. I like both Max and George as drivers and as people; they are both on my 'favourites' list. This post is not hate and should not be read as such; this is supposed to simply offer a viewpoint from both parties, perhaps educate on what has been going on, and discuss what I believe is fair or unjust in this back and forth. This is essay is not about debating if the Qatar qualifying penalty was or was not fair; this essay is about the social and very public dispute between Verstappen and Russell.

Last weekend, after receiving a 1-place grid penalty after qualifying pole in Qatar, Max Verstappen spoke to the media about how the penalty discussion was handled in the stewards' room. He had many things to say about his counterpart, George Russell, who had apparently insisted upon Max receiving a penalty for alleged 'impeding' despite neither driver being on a fast lap. Since Max's words to the media, social media has been ablaze with F1 fans taking sides and at each other's throats over this back and forth. There can be a lot to say here and I through this essay, I hope to inform others about what has been happening while also offering my personal opinions on how both Max and George have handled this situation (as of December 5, 2024).

I have broken it down into three topics for ease of reading. Please read everything carefully before commenting or engaging in conversation; especially if your response differs in opinion than the ones written here. Discourse is always welcome but let's please be respectful if our opinions differ. At the end of the day, we're just fans of a bunch of millionaires who don't know we exist.

1 - George's Character

My main 'concern' from this last weekend is the comparison to how both parties handled themselves in the face of this situation and how they spoke about their counterpart. The main reason I decided to make this essay was because the main discussions (and, honestly, hate) I've seen across social media since this issue arose is mainly stemming from these initial comments delivered by Max.

December 1, 2024 — Max

This whole initial interview shocked me, honestly. It's been known that when Max was starting out in this sport, he could be very brash and his reactions were arguably immature. This season, I have been very impressed by how he has generally carried himself in the media from weekend to weekend. Even when the title fight with Lando got very heated, very tense, and words were said, Max always seemed very calm and collected and mature when asked about it by the media. He got major brownie points from me for this because it showed he was capable of understanding the time and place to be overly harsh or angry or critical and he held himself very articulately and maturely in interviews. There was no belittling of his counterparts [Lando, at the time] and nothing of the sort.

So, seeing this statement from Max as of this weekend, I was very disappointed in how he carried himself and how he treated the situation with George. Of course, Max has every right to be frustrated and upset and angry and whatever other emotion he had been feeling since the stewards meeting; I am definitely not arguing that. As I'll touch on later in this essay, what was said in the stewards' is never publicized for reason so we don't know what really happened in there. Maybe George was very angry and brash (and last weekend he already seemed to be in a grumpy mood re: McLaren sprint 1-2 situation) in that meeting, maybe he said some things he shouldn't have, but that's not an excuse for Max to speak to the media like this. Yes, Max has every right to be as angry as he wants at George, regardless of what went down! He could throw darts at a picture of George's face on his drivers room wall for all I care! That's his business.

Speaking to a disagreement with a fellow driver is one thing. Expressing disappointment, frustration, feelings that something was unjust is one thing. But this statement was entirely passed the line of mature or respectful or, frankly, professional. This isn't just some example of 'Oh, that's just Max just being Max and telling it like it is'; he can still be that way — true to who he is — but also be respectful. I've seen it throughout this season with how he carried himself in regard to the tensions with Lando. He is capable of it and I don't underestimate that he's smart enough to know that.

I've seen a lot of social media content now all content that Max 'brought the truth about George out' which I believe is incredibly unfair. Claiming that George is two-faced simply because he acts one way in media duties/in front of the camera and a different way off camera doesn't make him two-faced or conniving. It makes him a mature and respectful professional.

I think there’s nothing wrong with George or anyone acting differently on camera than behind closed doors. In order to put myself in the shoes of the drivers in instances like this, I always try to view this sport like a career…like a day at the office. The drivers being in front of the cameras is like me talking to my clients. I should be censoring myself, carrying myself politely, respectfully, maturely. I reflect the company for which I am hired. If I am super mad at my boss or a co-worker or a competitor or anything, I’m not going to be bitching about it to my client. That’s not right or appropriate. Hence, why George might 'appear more polite to the cameras’. He’s carrying himself professionally in a situation that requires it.

On the other hand, if there is an issue between co-workers and our boss, that’s where we can be more pushy, more ourselves, or whatever else we need to be to get our point across. We want to fight for what we think is right; it’s a private place away from our 'clients’ or the public in this matter where we can do this. Of course, we don’t know the extent of this specific situation because none of us were there, but I think Max (and, later, in his reply, George) laying all that out to dry on a public platform is still uncalled for. What happens in the stewards’ space isn’t publicized for a reason. Just like what happens in my 1-1 meetings with my bosses doesn't get spread all over the office and to my clients. That’s the behind the scenes work. Their private discourse.

I don’t see it like George being 'two faced’ as Max seemed to imply and how some fans have seemed to take it. I understand it to be he composes himself professionally in front of his 'clients’ to reflect the name of his 'company' to the best of his ability, and, behind closed doors, he can fight a little more and be a bit more open and brash for what he wants to achieve. That’s honestly incredibly mature of him to do. Never have I seen him be 'secretive' or 'conniving' or anything like that. I also believe that Max wasn't trying to be conniving or manipulative by stating these things about George; just that his emotions were high and he's human.

December 5, 2024 — George

I loved this response from George. I, myself, have had people — even in my professional life — try to come for my character and my integrity and I know how much that can hurt, especially when you, yourself, know how you carry yourself. In knowing this, George had every right to defend himself and I think he did so incredibly respectfully but firmly, and didn't slander or hate on Max in any uncalled for way in these above quotes.

"He's entitled to his own opinions" stands out the most to me; he's not getting angry at the fact that someone isn't a fan of him currently or is upset with him. He carried himself how he thought was best, did what he needed to do, and if Max needs to sit with those emotions and chooses to step away from him because of it, he has the right to. That is so respectful of George to say and honestly I was in awe by these screenshots.

George made great points in his interview with SkySports (One | Two) in reminding us that F1 drivers 'fighting' for penalties against their rivals isn't new. He even mentioned how during the Qatar GP this same weekend, Max was insisting on the radio that Lando be reported for not lifting under the yellow. He had every right to do that, just like George had every right to push for a penalty where he saw fit after the qualifying incident. Whether George was quiet and submissive in the stewards or if he was raising his voice and being very persistent is irrelevant here; it doesn't justify Max publically slandering his name and his character.

Whether Max is 4x WDC or hasn't earned a single point in the sport, that doesn't excuse anyone to come on public media and slander someone's name to unjustifiable amounts. Expressing discontent, disappointment, frustration is one thing — it's understandable and appreciated by the fans to see that insight where necessary — but to this extent is nothing short of rude. Max is human at the end of the day and he's not a perfect person; no one is. In knowing this, it wouldn't be fair to hold this situation against him for the rest of time, but being disappointed in how he handled it is valid.

2 - Max's Character

Although the initial situation here was surrounding how Max spoke to George's character last weekend, George's response from this week contained a lot of things to analyze as well. It wouldn't be a comparative study if I didn't look at both sides fairly.

December 5, 2024 — George

Although George did deliver the above statements in a way that was still generally respectful and professional, I believe that he was getting a little bit too into the discourse here. Sure, there may be another argument to have that there was some truth behind his claims of Max being a harsh racer, willing to do anything and everything to get to where he is at the top, and a few moments this season (at least, that I can speak to having witnessed) on the radio where Max might have come across pushy/whiny to 'get his way'. However, I never like to use radio messages as examples or to hold against someone, because that's when everyone's adrenaline is at its peak and its easy to say things in the heat of the moment, in a rush of passion.

One one side, there can be an arguable bias in George's statements here as a rival driver also fighting to be the best but also as a die-hard Lewis fan and as Lewis' teammate. I think — and this is my personal opinion and assumption — that George may 95% of the time take Lewis' side. That doesn't make George wrong or a bad person, that's just his own preferences and biases. Just like how you reading this might be a die-hard fan to one driver but your friend might adore someone completely different so you sometimes clash heads on certain topics. That's your individual biases arguably altering your arguments. Again, that's not to say it's a bad thing. It's just what it is. You fight for what you are passionate about.

Looping back to my main point of this essay, however, I will reiterate the fact that George is going a bit off topic here and I don't necessarily agree with how specific and in depth he went. Especially saying that "people have been bullied by Max for years now". Max isn't the first driver to say harsh opinions and statements about fellow drivers to the media and I'm sure he won't be the last. It's borderline too 'personal' and, yes, although he delivered it respectfully and there may be an arguable truth behind some of the words, I don't think any of this above statement was necessary for the situation at hand. It made it feel almost too 'political'.

I have also seen people using the clip of George and Bottas from 2021 as a way to claim George is a "hypocrite" for saying the above. That is a weak and lazy excuse, just looking for something to use as ammo to had more hate to the fire. Looking at the bigger picture and how someone has grown and changed over the years and through their experience is important. If George was crashing into people and then hitting them for it on a monthly basis, perhaps your argument for this would stand. George wasn't here saying Max sucks and he's always rude and violent and a million other things, he made a few fair points that have proof for backup from the past, albeit was unnecessary to bring up in this instance.

My above statements stand here, too. Maybe even more so here. This feels very gossip-y to me and, again, uncalled for. I wanted to make this quote have it's own notes because the ones above here borderline too far, this one is very much too far. Very unnecessary and unneeded.

3 - The Alleged Threat

I first heard of Max's alleged 'threat' towards George on a SkySports broadcast (I can't currently find the link, if you have it, please let me know so I can add it in) where the commentator was saying many people had overheard Max threaten George. This was brought up by George upon his media interviews this week and then immediately responded to by Max as well.

About this threat, George is quoted in a SkySports interview as saying: "I don't want to bring this to the stewards...I had no intention of bringing this up [...] but he made it personal". In my viewpoint, this quote shows that despite this supposed threat (whether it's 100% true or not, we don't know and we might not ever know), he was willing to move on from it without blowing it up and coming for Max publicly. This is a fair statement given that George felt is necessary to defend himself against the slander towards his character in a situation where otherwise there might have just been big feelings but leaving it on the track.

December 5, 2024 — George

December 5, 2024 — Max

At the end of the day, what hasn’t been publicized is a game of he said/she said. We can hope they’re being truthful but we have to remember that they haven’t been sworn under oath to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help them God, so both will ultimately have their personal biases that will skew their recollection of the reality of the situation. They are also humans who will often express themselves of come across to other unlike how they indented. Max saying "he's exaggerating" might be the truth, or it might simply boil down to how his confrontation or his words might have come across to George in terms of his tone or underlying meanings. It doesn't mean that one is more correct than the other.

Overall, I think we should take the claims of what happened off camera with this understanding. In all honesty, it’s none of our business. What happens in the stewards isn’t publicized for a reason. We can hear either side tell their story but the only people who know what really happened are the two involved. We shouldn't come at George for being a 'liar' when we weren't there. Just as we shouldn't come at Max for being a 'bully' because, again, we weren't there.

This leads me to my next point in mentioning that Max claims here that you don't have to share everything that happened behind closed doors. I agree with this. As I mentioned above, the stewards is not publicized for a reason, and George took it a bit too far with the information there, going far into details from the past that weren't necessarily relevant to share. Yes, he was respectful in delivering this, but it wasn't needed.

And, yet again, Max has returned with throwing slander on George's name. "Loser", "backstabber", "dramatic". Instead of owning up to how he handled the initial media statements from the previous weekend, he kept at it. Once can be easily excusable; boiling down to a bad day, maybe he had something going on behind the scenes, maybe he's just human and made a mistake in how he handled it, simple as that. But twice? Days apart? This really disappoints me. I really like Max and his tell-it-like-it-is style of honesty but there comes a time where it crosses a line between honesty and rudeness.

Additionally, there is something to say about Max staying true to himself no matter where he is, that can be a positive thing. He's not swayed by outside forces. However, in such a media driven career that he has, where everything is publicized and scrutinized and can have such intense consequences, I think he needs to remind himself of 'time and place'. Like I mentioned earlier, he was great this season in handling questions about the fights and 'name calling'/'finger-pointing' from Lando, always aiming to be respectful and mature, so this is very jarring to me. He can still stay true to himself but be respectful. He can still be blunt and straight forward but not tear someone down at the same time. One does not excuse the other.

To me, the way someone carries themselves in their professional life versus personal life is so important. George seems to have a good grasp on this and I thought Max had started to develop this too.

4 - The Takeaways

I hope this was at all helpful in gaining a better understanding of the situation. I am just so tired of seeing blatant hate on my social media pages about Max and about George. Discourse and expression of opinion on a topic is one thing but taking to the level of making jokes on someone's behalf or being straight up rude is unneeded. From what I have seen so far, the Max 'hate' has been more on the discourse and disappointment side whereas the George 'hate' has been so incredibly brutal. This surprises me given that the issue Max had with George in the first place wasn't even publicized. We have no idea what happened, so why is everyone feeling the need to agree with him when you don't know these people in real life and you weren't there to witness the situation in the first place?

To those who are making posts with digs at George such as belittling his skill, persona, or performance (i.e. "George has no trouble putting himself in the wall, he doesn't need Max's help with that" or "george would [be dramatic and] say that max told him he hopes he dies") are incredibly uncalled for and presumptuous and, yes, I stand by my prior claim that it is immature. You think that is funny but it's really not. You can not like a driver and still be respectful on public forums. You can disagree with a driver, express your opinions, and still be respectful. Just because you think the person won't see it doesn't mean a) they won't or b) their fans want to see that. It just makes you look petty.

I don't anticipate either party apologizing, which is their own prerogative. Honestly, I'm just glad this happened at the end of the season so we can let it go and let the two involved parties deal with this as they see fit. It's only theirs to deal with anyway.

Let's have a safe a respectful final race of the season.

Additionally, I would like to hear from those who genuinely believe George is two-faced. If you have tangible proof of these claims, please feel free to slide into my ask box. Please be respectful though. I will delete any messages that are unnecessarily rude or hateful. We don't have to agree, but don't be offensive either. I don't have the time or patience for that.

Sources, Max: independant.co.uk | motorsport.com Sources, George: motorsport.com | racer.com

[cinnbar-bun]

The Chain I

Relationship: Johnny Joestar x GN!Reader, minor Diego Brando x GN!Reader

Prompt: "Running in the shadows, damn your love, damn your lies / Break the silence, damn the dark, damn the light."

Summary: You've known each other for so long, ever since you were kids. But after he's become so unrecognizable, you have to wonder if being chained to him is worth it anymore.

Rating: SFW

Word Count: ~3.5k

Notes: Childhood friends to haters to lovers later, no spoilers for part 7, BUT mentions of death/spoilers of Johnny's backstory. Slight love triangle for this chapter, Johnny being a major douche, angry fight at the end, minor swearing. This chapter takes place pre-part 7.

Taglist (message me or fill out the form in the pinned to be added!): @gingernut1314 @adeadcreator @starr-l1ghtt

Read on my AO3 here!

A/n: I got nothing to say besties I love causing Johnny pain!!!!

“Nicholas, Johnny, remember that I have a guest coming over today. Can I ask that both of you remain on your best behavior?” George said sternly, a subtle warning that if the two acted up, there would be consequences to pay for it. The two boys agreed, back straight as they awaited the ‘guest’.

George exhaled and uncrossed his arms. “You two will not need to be in the study when they come by. My friend has a young child, around your age, Johnny. I expect that you two will treat them properly.” 

George didn’t wait for a response, walking away to prepare himself. Nicholas and Johnny glanced at each other, wide, eager smiles on their face as they thought about who they’d see. 

When the ‘guests’ finally arrived, Johnny momentarily forgot his manners, ignoring the man and instead glancing for the child George talked about. When his blue eyes landed on yours, something within him stirred, as if he was magnetized to you. 

He ran to you, grabbing your hands in his, and gave a toothy grin. “I’m Johnny! What’s your name?” 

Johnny could never explain why he was so drawn to you. You, likewise, never stood a chance against a fate when it came to Johnny. You two were practically attached at the hip, almost never seen without the other. 

Johnny (but mostly Nicholas) was the one who taught you how to secretly ride a horse whenever you visited the estate. You taught Johnny different plants he should avoid and what was edible after he had a mishap with poison ivy. Johnny liked getting lost in the forest with you. You liked staying up at night and pointing out different constellations with him from your book. 

“That’s a shooting star!” Johnny yelled, shooting upright and pressing his finger against the glass window. 

“What? Really?” You squinted. 

“Yeah, but you missed it, slowpoke,” he rolled his eyes as he flicked your forehead. 

“I’m not slow…” 

“And yet you’re always last when it comes to racing,” Johnny smugly pronounced. “What are we at? 1000 - 0?” 

“Ugh, you’re a jerk,” you huffed. “Now, you saw a shooting star. You gotta make a wish.” 

“Oh, right,” he said as he turned around to the face the night sky. He closed his eyes, exhaled, and clasped his hands together. “Okay, did it. I wished we’d be friends forever.” 

“Johnny!” You shouted. “You can’t tell me that, now it won’t come true!” 

“Don’t tell me you believe that old thing,” he snorted. “Come on, you know it’s not true.” 

“But what if it is? Now we might not be friends.” 

Johnny glanced back at you and sighed before he took his seat back on his bed next to you. “Nah. I know we will be friends forever. Even my dad thinks you’re part of the family now.”

“But how do we really know?” You asked anxiously. Johnny tapped his chin and shrugged. 

“Guess we don’t. But I’m not gonna believe a dumb superstition. We’re a team, right?” He insisted, putting his pinkie out to you. You felt yourself ease up at his confidence and wrapped your pinkie around his. 

“Yeah, a team.” He smiled proudly at your words. 

He had no reason in his mind to think of anything else. The four years you two had known each other had to have solidified your bond for life. His luck may have been strange, but you were a constant in his life. That wasn’t changing anytime soon.

You both should have known it was the beginning of end. At the age of 9, you and Johnny stood by Nicholas’s coffin. Johnny had clung to you, sobbing that it was all his fault, that he was the reason Nicholas died. If only he had just drowned Danny like George asked, if only he just listened, then Nicholas would still be there. 

He was fundamentally changed by Nicholas’s death. Why wouldn’t he be? That was his dear brother. You had grown to see Nicholas as an older brother as well, the type of good-natured sibling who made sure you and Johnny were happy. But Johnny was not Nicholas. 

You knew that. Johnny knew that. Most of all, George knew that. 

But Johnny kept continuing to go back on his horse, insisting he was fine, demanding you stop asking how he was. He was good. He would race. He would make George proud. He would honor Nicholas through his racing.

Johnny devoted so much time to racing, as if his life depended on it. Perhaps it did, in his mind, but you were still there, watching. You would read quietly by the small bench as Johnny lectured his horse for not jumping as high over the hurdle today. You would do your schoolwork while Johnny timed himself again and again, practicing lap after lap. Sometimes, Diego Brando would come to you and start a conversation with you. 

Johnny wouldn’t pay attention, too busy fixing the reins of his horse to care. And you, who really didn’t have much else besides him, hated seeing your best friend so hurt. So you would wait, as usual. 

“Do you think I’ll be able to make my dad proud?” Johnny mulls one evening as you both drink on the hill you two frequented as kids.

“I think you will,” you begin. “I think he’s proud of you now.” 

“That’s a damn lie and you know it.” 

You pursed your lips and took another sip. “I’m sorry.” 

“Yeah. So am I.” 

It only seemed to get worse from there. Johnny would make time for you infrequently, still trying to keep up the idea of you being his ‘best friend’ to those around him. You didn’t know which you’d rather deal with at this point; his total silence towards you while hordes of girls and celebrities flocked to him, or his half-hearted attempt at clinging to the friendship you two had. Both killed you inside, and despite knowing deep down that you should cut your losses, you still stuck around. 

You stuck around when he asked for you to cover for him while he was out drinking with some friends. You stuck around when he made you do the group project by yourself because some rich governor wanted to meet him later. You stuck around when he didn’t say a word as a ‘friend’ of his made fun of you for being so clingy towards Johnny like a lost puppy. 

You knew you shouldn’t have stuck around for that. You knew you deserved better. 

But that stupid, stupid part of you that yearned for Johnny to just treat you like he did before always won out over logic. That ridiculous voice inside you said that being hurt by Johnny was better than no Johnny at all. Because Johnny was your best friend, your first friend. 

Johnny was a lot of your firsts, in fact. He was not only your first friend, but the one who first taught you to ride a horse, the one you first slept over with, the one you did your first trip with, and your first kiss when you two tried to copy what you saw a couple do as kids. Scarily enough, he was not only those things, but he was also your first love. You stupidly fell in love with your childhood best friend. Like a damn cliche, you fell for him, never recognizing that the warmth you felt for him went just beyond friends. 

But it was too late to even confess this, as he had already was on his third girlfriend of the month, never sparing you a glance beyond a ‘thanks’ for doing his work. You would be foolish enough to try, but naive you that wished for everything under the sun for just a chance with Johnny still stayed. Maybe one day he’d wake up and recognize the people that encircled him after his race didn’t care. Maybe one day he’d notice that you were still there, cheering him on for his races, even as he came in second almost every time. Maybe, maybe, maybe, that foolish wish he made under the star would come true and you’d stay friends forever. 

Like always, you sat on the bench by the training grounds of the estate, reading for the upcoming test you would have soon, that Johnny would likely want you to summarize for him and his buddies. You heard footsteps approaching, but didn’t stop reading. 

“Johnny, what do you-” 

“Me? Johnny? Please. I thought you’d know better than that by now to compare me to him,” a smug voice reproached you. You looked up in confusion before noticing the cocky stature of none other than Diego Brando. 

“Oh… Diego. Do you want me to leave?” You asked, beginning to pack up your things. Diego only ever made casual conversation with you after all these years, so you had no clue why he was walking up to you so suddenly. 

“Hm, no. I just couldn’t help but notice that Joestar boy left you alone again.” 

You rolled your eyes as Diego taunted you. “If that’s all you came here to tell me, you can leave. I don’t need to hear that from you.” 

“So sensitive. You’re beginning to resemble a cornered dog.” 

“Diego, enough. Seriously. Just leave me alone if you have nothing nice to say,” you glared. 

“If that’s what you wish. I was going to offer you a chance to go for a ride with me, but if I am so horrible that you don’t even wish to talk to me, then I’ll be on my merry way. Goodbye, maybe that Joestar will throw you a bone one day,” Diego sneered as he turned around and waved his hand. 

“Huh? Wait!” You shot up and followed after him. “Why are you offering that to me?” 

“Must I explain it to you?” “I would like you to.” 

“Hah. No,” he deadpanned. “And look at you, already following after me. It seems you can’t help but listen to those more powerful than you.” 

“I’m not doing it because-” 

“I don’t really care,” Diego replied, throwing on the saddle for his horse and fitting it properly. “Would you like to come, or not?” 

Johnny despised Diego more than anything. He’d be furious if he knew you were even talking to him. Diego sensed your hesitation, sighing dramatically and extending his hand to you. “If you want to go waiting around like a lost sheep for that boy, by all means, go ahead. I’m offering you a horseback ride, not a marriage proposal.” 

Within an instant, you threw your reservations away and gripped his hand, letting him help you onto the saddle. He was right. Johnny was busy elsewhere and this was just a simple ride around the estate. Why should you care what Johnny thought now? 

Diego snorted in amusement as your brows furrowed, but didn’t make another comment, instead, snapping the reins of the horse against it, causing the horse to begin galloping. 

For the first time in a while, you had an enjoyable evening. You simply basked in the wind as Diego expertly maneuvered the horse around. It didn’t take much before you two began talking to each other, pleasantly surprised by how Diego was talking to you when Johnny was not around. It was like seeing a whole new side to the genius jockey that he rarely ever showed before. 

Soon, though, he took the horse back to the stable and promptly helped you off. You were about to collect your bearings and go when he spoke once more to you as he was rummaging through a box of supplies for tending to his horse. 

“You should really stand up for yourself for once.” 

“Huh?” 

“You heard me. Are you really going to let that boy trample you all over every day? Come on. It’s pathetic to witness. Even I felt bad seeing you like that,” he replied in an even tone. While his words were harsh, it lacked his usual mocking tone. 

“I don’t need your pity, Diego,” you stiffened, knowing he had a point. 

“I know you don’t need it. What you really need is a spine. Too bad all the money in the world can’t afford you that,” he commented. “Oh well. It’s not my place. But if you get tired of being that boy’s little mule, you can come to me. I’d be happy to have you as a cheerleader for me.” 

He looked you in the eyes this time. Instead of a haughty, egotistical smirk, it was a frank smile. You were taken aback by his casual friendliness and nodded. 

“Thank you. And thank you again for the ride. I needed it.” 

“Hmph. Don’t go around telling others that, though. Lord knows I don’t need more tabloids on my ass over this.” 

“I won’t. It’ll be our secret,” you said as you began to walk back to your original spot at the bench with a more relaxed stance. For once, there wasn’t a heavy pit in your stomach that threatened to consume you, but a gentle warmth that slowly blossomed there. 

That warmth didn’t last long when a few days after, Johnny and Diego were set to compete in another race. Of course you were going, that was always a given, and like always, Johnny gave you a ticket to let you in. Even if he was never around much, he left you the tickets in your bag, almost as if it was just expected of you. Perhaps it was, at this rate. You’ve been doing this for almost five years now. 

You sat in the bleachers next to a few other familiar faces- mostly the elite who came to socialize or discuss some business and gamble, or younger people who came to try and entice the racers into giving them more attention. You were to offer moral support and comfort Johnny when he’d get frustrated for being silver. 

It was a while before Johnny was set to race, but when he did, the crowd whispered in hushed tones if he would finally surpass Diego today. Some had bet on him, while others kept to their trusty pick of Diego. The gunshot went off, and the horses sprinted. It was close. So, so close. Johnny was more determined than ever to win this race, and it showed in the near sliver of space between him and Diego. 

Come on, Johnny, come on!

You held your breath, but as it was for so long, close was not close enough. Diego had won, but only by a measly half a second. Your heart dropped as Johnny grimaced and hurried his horse back to the stable. Silver was not good enough. Silver would never make George look at him. Not while Diego was winning race after race, surrounded in heaps of gold. 

You stood up to go meet with Johnny, hurriedly wanting to comfort him and offer more words of encouragement that would probably amount to nothing. Because nothing was enough, not until he won. Just as you were in the stables and looking for Johnny, someone clearing their throat beside you caught your attention. You turned around and saw Diego, that smug look on his face again as he held a gold trophy. 

“Not even a congratulations?” He joked. 

“Oh, sorry. Congrats, Diego. You did wonderful out there, today,” you complimented him. Even if Johnny was your friend, Diego was clearly a special prodigy at horseriding. It was no wonder he was called the ‘genius jockey’ all throughout America and Europe. You were about to continue when he grabbed your wrist. 

“That eager to see Joestar? I’m sure he can wait. I wanted to ask you something,” Diego began. 

“Hm? Go ahead.” 

“They’re organizing a party for my win soon. Tomorrow night, actually. I’m allowed one guest. Perhaps you’re interested in ditching Joestar for the evening and coming with me?” You gasped and felt your face heat up. 

“Diego, I-” 

“Are you kidding me?!” A voice yelled. You jumped at the tone but knew instantly who it was. Diego snorted and placed a hand on his hips. 

“Well now. Can’t you see we’re in the middle of something, Joestar?” Diego snapped. 

“Back the hell off, Brando, I don’t wanna deal with your shit right now,” Johnny venomously spouted. He stomped over and stood between you and Diego. “Is that what you’ve been doing? Huh?” 

“What? Johnny, what are you talking about?” You replied, confused at why he was suddenly aiming his vitriol at you. 

“You know damn well what I’m talking about! I invited you here, and now you’re planning trysts with this asshole?” 

“I didn’t even-” 

“What kind of friend are you?! You know how much I hate him! Why are you going to see him behind my back?” 

Your blood began boiling at all these accusations. You clenched your fists and jaw, trying to control yourself. “I didn’t do anything behind your back. Diego just asked me a question.” 

“Please, Diego never justs ‘asks’ questions. And don’t lie to me. I saw what you two did the other day!” 

“So what? It was just a little ride! It’s not like we did anything!” 

“So you admit you’ve been seeing him!” Johnny pointed a finger at you. Diego made his presence known again and stepped closer. 

“What, jealous, Joestar? That your ‘best friend’ finally opened their eyes and prefers me over your lousy company?” 

“Yeah, right. I don’t give a crap about you, Brando!” Diego didn’t respond, instead spitting at the floor near Johnny’s decaying shoes. 

“You talk big for second place. A second-rate jockey like you should know better than to try and insult me after that piss-poor performance you gave today.” 

“You damn-” Johnny nearly launched at Diego before you held him back. “What the hell? Let go of me!” 

“Johnny, seriously? You can’t go attacking people!” You lectured. 

“Why the hell are you defending him? Huh? You like him that much?” 

“It’s not about liking, Johnny, it’s just-” 

“Just what? Think you can suddenly do better than me? You ain’t that special!” Johnny screamed at the top of his lungs. Time froze as you saw Johnny’s eyes widen in horror at what he just told. Even Diego was taken aback for a moment before you let go of Johnny and swiftly smacked him across the face. 

“Screw you! You’re horrible!” You trembled, the years of anger and humiliation now getting to you. Johnny held his cheek with his hand as you unleashed everything you felt inside. “How can you tell me I’m a bad friend when you never acted like a friend in years?! How can you get mad at me when I wait around for you, when I embarrass myself daily thinking one day you’ll treat me like an actual person and not a damn dog?!” 

“I didn’t mean to-” 

“I don’t wanna hear it from you, Johnny! I should’ve done this earlier! I should’ve stopped hanging around and wishing for you to grow up! Because you never will! You’re an even bigger asshole than anyone else I’ve ever met! All you do is think you’re hot shit, when really, you’re just an insecure little brat!” 

Johnny’s face furrowed as his ego felt more bruised than before. “Really? If you think I’m such an asshole, then why don’t you just go?” 

“I will! I don’t wanna see you ever again!” 

“Oh yeah? See if you’ll get anywhere without me being the one to prop your name up! See if you’ll be anyone if I didn’t give you some attention!” 

“I hate you, Johnny! I wish we never even met!” Your voice echoed in the stables. Johnny’s hands shook in anger as he gripped the second place trophy tight. You were breathing raggedly, but all Johnny could see was Diego smirking at him, as if taunting him. Rubbing it in his face that he caused this, that your frustration was all his doing. 

In a fit of rage and guilt, Johnny flung the trophy at Diego, only barely missing the English jockey. He didn’t bother to stay in the stables any longer, instead walking away from you for good. 

“Yeah, well, have fun with him then. Go suck up to him as much as you can, because when I win, I’m not gonna let you come back,” Johnny bitterly stated, ripping off the gold pin you got him so many years ago as a good luck charm and tossing it to the dirt. 

“I’d never want you back anyways,” you spat, solidifying ten years of friendship coming to an end, never to be seen as anything more than a bad memory.

[wildpeachfarm]

Just saw a thumbnail for a commentary YouTuber commenting on the ‘dream vs Connor’ situation, and it was awful. The comments however seem to be proving that the greater internet is finally starting to see all these fake CCs for what they are, and also how horrid the treatment of Dream is. So I guess that’s nice, cause YouTube is where the core fanbase is for Dteam and seeing a majority of them on their side right now is amazing.

Irrelevant CCs continue to prove one thing. They’re irrelevant for a reason. Their entire content is based on shitting on someone els-which is fleeting, and adhering to a mob that will turn its back on them the second they make a mistake. And none of them can handle being in dreams shoes, cause they get just a teeniest taste and cave immediately.

They couldn’t make the drituation stick, and the gogcident seems to be more on George’s side now, everyone is airing out petty grievances against Dteam, and they’re all looking like fools. I could cry. We’ve waited for days like this. The Brighton bastards pissed off the commentary YouTubers, which is NOT something you want to do. I never thought I’d see the day. Twitter is still Twitter, but everywhere else is starting to realize things.

Caiti shot herself in the foot by taking this whole thing public, and her friends solidified the beginning of the end for her by doing what they did. George may have “lost” on Twitter, and some of his “friends” may have publicly turned on him, but her career is done. She lost her passion and outside of Twitter, no one really believes a word she says.

Who knew it’d take a misguided, reactionary 19 year old to catapult the general public opening their eyes to the vitriol Dteam has been facing for years? And her friends airing out their petty grievances was the nail in the coffin. I said continuously during my four years in this fandom that the tides will change for Dream, and people will be making exposés on how the internet treated him. I don’t think it’s quite that time yet, but we are getting close.

I feel for Caiti in the sense that losing your passion for something you once loved sucks. I’ve been there and it’s awful. But she brought it upon herself the second she removed her autonomy in the situation and didn’t even listen to George’s response. That is the bare minimum of what she should have done, and she didn’t, so she created her own end, albeit probably unintentionally.

To the anon doom posting about Sapnap leaving George, go back to Twitter or TikTok. That energy isn’t wanted here. If Sapnap and George didn’t leave Dream during the drituation, they’re not going to leave George when he makes a mistake. They’ve all clearly stated they love each other, and having known each other for over a decade, it would take a lot to lose a friendship that deep and with that kind of longevity. We were walking on eggshells for a bit, but that’s his brother. Take your doomposting elsewhere.

Sorry this is more of a ramble; had a lot to say and needed a place to go with it. Appreciate my morning tea, always.

One last thing.

It will never be Dteamover.

Proud dteamolo right here. (With the caveat of Sam cause he’s never wavered from those boys)

-L :)

always a pleasure to hear from you L!

And yeah I am surprised to hear that apparently youtube is taking Dream's side with the connor stuff (so far?) but I will take a win no nonetheless!

Crazy how much this has spiraled but at least people are giving dteam at least a TINY benefit of doubt now

[queenmelancholy]

Guys, I have written my first fanfic ever! And it’s about Thomas Barrow! Yayyy! This is the AO3 link. Please read it if you have time and tell me what you think :)

Title: "I'm Home."

Summary: It was July 1930 and Thomas was revisiting Downton Abbey. He had been homesick for a while in America under the pressure of being half exposed to the limelight and found himself missing his family back at Downton. He dealt with his belonging issues and nostalgia during the journey.

Characters: Thomas Barrow, Guy Dexter, Charles Carson, Elsie Hughes, Beryl Patmore, Daisy Mason, Anna Bates, John Bates, Phyllis Baxter, Mary Crawley, Robert Crawley, Cora Crawley, George Crawley, Sybbie Branson

Word count: 2807

Thomas wasn’t sure about how he should feel as he walked down the stairs to the servant’s hall for the first time in two years. He wasn’t wearing his livery anymore. Deep down he was thrilled to tell everyone how much he had seen in America. But he felt ashamed of boasting to those who used to work alongside him. After all, he was the most bitter about Branson and Gwen when they found happier lives with their socially superior partners. Thomas knew that Guy saw him as equal, but still, the similarities laid bare. He felt awkward about this. 

Guy repeatedly told him not to worry. They were his family and there was no reason why anyone would not be happy for him. But Thomas reminded himself that it was not true. It couldn’t be. How could Mr. Carson give him a warm smile he so craved like he wanted from his own father, when this man thought Thomas deserved to be horsewhipped? How would Mr. Bates congratulate him, when he violently smashed Thomas against the wall and called him a filthy little rat? How could Mr. Moseley care a bit about how he was doing now, when he seemed so annoyed by Thomas when he was struggling to even face himself? People just wouldn’t be easy on him, even after all these years. And Thomas knew himself was the one to blame. 

Although people said they were his “family” for twenty years, he couldn’t bring himself to believe it. He owed them a heartfelt apology for what he had said and done. They owed him their apologies, too. Thomas didn’t know why he couldn’t just say sorry to them the day he left the house. Things would’ve been much easier if he did. But he wasn’t sure whether they’d do the same if he had said then - it was probably why he didn’t say it in the end. Deep inside, he was still angry with them. He had been angry all along. 

Perhaps some things were just destined to be wrong and left unresolved. Why would he expect anything different now? 

During the two years in America, Thomas had followed Guy everywhere to film and do publicity. Guy’s friends were all very nice and welcoming. Thomas got close to a few of them through their cricket matches every week. He enjoyed spending time with this small circle of friends as well as his private time with Guy in their house. 

Nevertheless, Thomas was very much aware that the journalists had suspected his relationship with Guy from the start. It was true that America was an open society and most people were friendly towards them, but Thomas wasn’t very comfortable with being in the limelight. Newspapers would make up fake stories about him and Guy for gossip, and he disliked it. Every now and then, he would see his face in some local tabloid, and passers-by would sometimes give him the side-eye. He felt judged all the time, like his private life was put on the table for everyone to see, and they only saw him as that. Thomas found himself in this peculiar situation where he had to keep his mouth shut about an open secret, one that was known by millions of people. He didn’t even know how to behave in public anymore. 

Surely he loved Guy a lot, and he knew Guy loved him as much, if not more. But sometimes he just felt a bit tired of hiding behind the name of a dresser. And all these people who didn’t really know them would talk about them behind their back, saying things that weren’t true. Although he had Guy with him, Thomas just felt more lonely being surrounded by all these strangers in the strange city.

Thomas’s depression was slowly taking over him again. Sometimes he couldn’t sleep at night. He missed home. He wanted to talk to Mrs. Hughes about the things that were troubling him. He knew she would pat him on the shoulder and say no worries, all things would be fine. He wanted to open up to Phyllis about his insecurities and she would give him the wisest advice; he wanted to chit chat with Daisy about the silly little things, argue with Mrs. Patmore, play with the children, and many more things. He even missed Bates as his sparring partner. Thomas just needed someone who actually knew him, from when he was that spiteful young boy and watched him grow into this mature man. 

He knew the people back at Downton wouldn’t hurt him, not anymore. They were his family. He was safe with them. He knew it at last, but it might be too late to admit that. 

One day, Thomas just couldn’t hold it in anymore. In tears, he told Guy he was homesick. Guy was very worried if he was not doing enough to make Thomas feel at home. But Thomas reassured him that it was not his fault - in fact Guy was the only reason why he hadn’t fallen apart till now. Thomas blamed himself for being a coward who just knew how to run away from his problems, like he did during the war and many other times. He didn’t even have enough determination and perseverance to make a new life of his own. 

“That’s not true,” Guy told him, “Look how far you’ve come already. You have been through a lot. I know. You’re the bravest person I’ve ever known. If anyone had told me that there’s this nice bloke named Thomas Barrow who had been put through the wringer like this, I would think they were writing the protagonist for their upcoming production.” Guy laughed a little and pretended to contemplate, “Hmmm… if so, that character would be so challenging to play.”

Thomas kept looking at the ground. He blinked his eyes in silence before he mumbled, “Then that film would be a blockbuster. But I bet you couldn’t play the role.” He slowly smiled, “And you’d have to be really lucky to get a ticket for it.” They looked at each other and giggled.

“Yeah, that character would certainly be a legend. And I’m glad to know him,” Guy replied satisfyingly.

Finally, he persuaded Thomas to go back to Downton for a week to catch up with the Crawleys and their staff. Guy’s filming schedule was packed so he couldn’t travel with him. Out of guilt, Guy offered to pay for the travelling expenses and bought Thomas his commercial plane tickets. Thomas was reluctant at first but he eventually gave in to the temptation to fly for the first time in his life. Before he boarded the plane, he once again thanked Guy for what he did for him and promised to get better soon. 

As he flew across the Atlantic, Thomas couldn’t help but think about Richard’s words, “Fifty years ago, who’d have thought man could fly?” Well, he was flying now. And he felt simultaneously happy and sad about it. What would Richard be doing now? Did Jimmy finally get settled down? Was Edward watching from heaven and being happy for him? Thomas looked out the window and tears ran silently down his cheeks. 

Soon he arrived in London and travelled north to Yorkshire by train. The scenery gradually changed from city to countryside, and Thomas became more relaxed as he was surrounded by nature. The wind blew through his face and loose hair. He could smell the freshness of the grass and see the blue wide sky. It was a beautiful sunny day.

Once Thomas planned to visit Downton a month ago, he wrote to Mary as a courtesy. He didn’t want to make it a big deal to the downstairs lot so he kindly asked Mary not to tell anyone else. Mary understood that and agreed to keep it secret. Thomas knew that in fact she was excited to see everybody’s surprised faces when he appeared out of the blue. Yes, Lady Mary would be so. Thomas thought to himself and smiled a little. 

His ride back to the Abbey went smoothly and everything along the road was familiar, only that he no longer needed to walk the long way on foot. Time seemed to have paused in the village. Thomas could almost see his younger self stepping out of the post office after sending that telegram to Philip. It was like yesterday. How could these places still look the same while so many things had already changed? He thought of William and Matthew, as well as Ethel and Lady Sybil. He felt sorry for them. “I’m the one who got away.” “Gives hope to us all.” The days when they were here were long gone, but had they ever really left? Thomas suddenly felt overwhelmed by his complicated feelings towards this place he called home. Perhaps part of him had never left, too. 

When Thomas arrived at the Abbey and rang the bell, it was Mr. Carson who opened the door. They were both stoned and stared at each other for longer than usual. Thomas surely expected Carson, but he wasn’t prepared to see this tight-lipped wrinkled man with a head of grey hair standing in front of him. Was Carson this old when he left? He couldn’t remember clearly. Carson was equally shocked. The troubled man that he once supervised suddenly turned up as a guest to the house he managed. Didn’t he finally get rid of Thomas after he met the movie star? Carson shrugged as he recalled that. But he had been reminiscing about the downstairs life with Thomas’s cheeks lately - it was too peaceful without the naughty boy in the servant’s hall. It was somehow boring. Carson was surprised that he would find himself missing Thomas Barrow - like a strict father missing his difficult son. At times he would tell himself that maybe Thomas had found his happiness out there, so there was no need to worry. 

“Mr. Carson, it’s nice to see you.”

“You never fail to surprise us, Mr. Barrow.”

They stood at the front door, both a little unsettled. “Who’s that?” Asked Lady Grantham from inside. “We have been visited by an old friend, My Lady.” Carson raised his eyebrows as he couldn’t believe these words came out of his own mouth. Neither could Thomas, who remembered clearly how he was greeted last time he entered through the front door as acting sergeant. Carson and Thomas nodded politely at each other before they went into the house. Thomas exhaled a deep breath of relief. 

Both Lord and Lady Grantham were very much amazed by Thomas’s visit. They were eager to know how their former footman-turned-butler had been doing these two years. So they had a short conversation about Thomas’s life in America, and Robert seemed a bit too excited as he told Thomas about how it reminded him of his Eton days. Carson couldn’t control his eyebrows, while Mary cheerfully watched on and gave Thomas knowing looks at certain points. 

It was afternoon, the servants had been working on their chores at different corners of the house. So Carson went off to summon them all before Thomas entered the basement. He wondered what Carson would have told them.

Meanwhile, Thomas used the time to revisit his old room in the attic. No one used it after he’d left. He noticed how humble his room was compared with the luxurious room he shared with Guy. The furniture was still in place but it had lost its warmth as there were no traces of living any longer. A layer of dust had formed on the surfaces of his old cabinet and desk. Thomas felt strange. He remembered Dryden Park, the run down estate of Sir Michael Reresby. Would this room ever be used again? Was he its last occupant? What would it become in a hundred years’ time? Thomas sighed and took a last look at his room for eighteen years. He said goodbye to it and closed the door lightly behind him.

After a while, Thomas found himself descending the stairs to the servant’s hall. He felt his heart beating faster as he got closer to the bottom. When he was almost there, Thomas caught a glimpse of the framed writings hanging above the entrance to the servant’s hall - “Watch and Pray.” He was relieved that it was still there. He changed it when he was the butler. Thomas remembered how for fifteen years he walked past the former one every day that said “Trust in the Lord,” and couldn’t help but feel betrayed by God and everyone. He was furious then. But now Thomas was glad that he had grown into a better man and there was no need to be bitter anymore. 

Suddenly Thomas heard Anna’s voice from the servant’s hall, “Be quiet! Mr. Barrow might hear.”

“Oh, I can’t wait! Mrs. Patmore, just come and sit down!” Daisy was apparently in an exciting mood, and what on earth was Mrs. Patmore doing?  

“I just want to make sure it looks perfect.” 

“It’s very beautiful, Mrs. Patmore. I’m sure Thomas will appreciate it.” It seemed even Mr. Bates was here to welcome him. Thomas thought for a moment about what snarky things he could say to Bates. No, he wouldn’t do that, not today. 

“Mr. Barrow may be here any time soon. You get ready now,” Mrs. Hughes said softly. Who was she talking to?

Thomas had anticipated this moment for a month. He kept thinking of his guilt and how to make apologies. Things might have improved, but at the bottom of his heart he still thought they didn’t like him as much as other servants. And he could not fully embrace them for how they treated him in the past. Their misunderstanding towards him could perhaps never change. How could he truly belong here? Or anywhere? But the strange conversation just now might hint that things were not as bad as he’d thought. After all, they were the only people in this world who really knew him. So Thomas plucked up his courage and stepped into the servant’s hall. 

Three shadows rushed forward and hugged him around the waist. “Mr. Barrow!!!” The children shouted with joy. “We missed you a lot,” little George said softly as his big blue eyes looked up at Thomas. Oh god, these children had grown so much. George was almost reaching Thomas’s shoulders. Sybbie was already a young lady and Thomas could see Lady Sybil in her. Marigold was with her parents in London, but Thomas missed her nonetheless. The third little one was Johnny, who was always joyous and nothing like his father, much to Thomas’s delight. It was great that the children had not forgotten him. In fact, they couldn’t be happier to see him. 

Thinking of it, Thomas’s eyes began to well up and his face turned red. “Alright now,” Mrs. Hughes said to the children, “let go of Mr. Barrow or you will choke him out.” They laughed and Thomas noticed something on the dining table. It was a beautifully decorated chocolate brownie cake - Thomas’s favourite. “It was intended for the family’s afternoon tea today. But I asked if we could use it instead and Lady Grantham kindly agreed,” Mrs. Patmore explained. 

Thomas couldn’t believe it all. Why? Was this their apology after all these years? Had he been wrong about them all along?

He couldn’t look up at them but smiled shyly, “Thank you very much. Thanks for this warm reception. You don’t need to do this. I’m not worthy of it.” 

“Don’t say that, Thomas,” Daisy said, “We’ve all missed you. And your mischief, of course.” 

“I really don’t deserve any of this…” Thomas could no longer contain his tears and started to cry. The children couldn’t understand what was happening. They grabbed his hand and looked with worried eyes. “Why are you sad, Mr. Barrow?” Sybbie asked, “Tell us and we will find ways to help you.” Thomas cried even harder. He couldn’t control himself. 

“Mr. Barrow is just too happy,” Phyllis tried to explain it for him, “He has missed us as much as we missed him. So he is very happy to see us all at once now. Aren’t you, Mr. Barrow?” She approached him and offered him her handkerchief. 

“Yes, I am,” Thomas said as he wiped his tears, “I’m just too happy to see you all again.” There was no need for other words. 

Everyone’s eyes slowly turned teary as they smiled with contentment and joy. One thing was sure - Thomas was very much missed and loved here around the servant’s table. They didn’t know it before, neither did he. But now the big boy had come home.

“Welcome back, Thomas.”

Thomas smiled and replied softly, “I’m home.”

[kpopbestie96]

Chapter Eight

You let your friends in, excited to have George, Dani, Gabby and Bella (the friend that got sick and couldn't go to the concert) over. This was your third time seeing her, but you both became fast friends - as if you both have known each other for years.

"Okay, so I got the Uber for brunch. He should be here soon." George said who was dressed up in a black tank top that sat underneath a black fishnet top, paired with light denim pants that had holes on each side showing off their thighs, wearing black Doc Martens.

"Ugh I can't wait to have mimosas in front of me! It's been a stressful week at work." Dani said who was wearing a plain baby blue tub top, paired with white joggers, with blue and white Nikes.

"I love your outfit!" Gabby complimented as she wore a black tennis skirt with a light purple crop top that was off the shoulders, showing off her small kitten tattoo on her left shoulder, hiding a bit underneath her light purple bralette.

"Thanks but love yours more!" You wore something so simple, a cute dark green, silk, summer dress that you paired with short black heels.

"I think someone's at the door," Bella mentioned, who was wearing a simple short pink dress with flats that had white daisy's sitting on top.

"Oh okay!" You didn't know who it could be, peaking through the peephole to see Melissa. You saw that she tried to call but decided to ignore it. Something must be wrong, you thought when opening the door.

"I'm sorry to bother you and you probably don't want to talk to me but this is important." You could tell the urgency in her voice and the scare in her eyes.

"Come in..." You opened the door wider for her to walk through.

"Why the fuck is she here??" Gabby asked, standing up ready to fight.

"Gabby, hold on," you put your hand up. "What's going on?"

"It's Sarah.. she's pretending to be you...."

Everyone in the room gasped like a Spanish telenovela, couldn't believe she would do that. "What the fuck?? How??" You wondered.

She took in a deep breath before explaining how she dyed her hair, changed her makeup and sent him a message posing as you.

You stood in your spot, couldn't even began to fathom what Melissa was explaining.

"What a bitch!" Dani blurred out.

"What do I do?" You pressed your head against the wall and looked up at the celling. I knew it was too go to be true.

"We have to put it all over social media!" Gabby threw her idea out loud.

"Yes let's do it!" You said jumping up from your seat.

"The Uber is here," George announced.

"Let's get in, eat and get to work when we get there! This is now a defcon one!" Gabby yelled, laughing while everyone made their way out the door.

"Thanks for telling me," you said walking with Melissa to the elevator after locking your front door.

"No problem I feel bad for what happened. I'm truly sorry."

They got into the elevator, took it to the lobby, seeing their Uber waiting for them outside. "Melissa, wanna come with us?" You asked, accepting her apology.

"Really?"

"Yeah, come on!"

...

The second the waiter took the drink order everyone began to discuss the plan, with Gabby taking the lead. "Okay, so we should post her Instagram account on Twitter and say it's her. We'll post our videos along with it as evidence."

"What if crazy fans come after me?" You feared, knowing there are some "fans" who are going to send you death threats.

"First off, your account is private. Two who gives a fuck. The fact Chan is looking for YOU, they can fuck right off," George noted, seeing how serious they were being.

"Yeah but what if they find my job and..."

"Babes, you need to chill. You'll get to be with THE Bang Chan from Stray Kids! Who fuckin' cares about anyone else," Bella said touching your hand, looking deep into your eyes.

You put up a faint smile, nodded your head that you understood.

"Should we post this now?" Melissa asked.

"No, closer to maybe a reasonable time in Korea. Right now everyone should be sleeping, so I say here in a few hours."

"Yes! You're so fucking smart Gabby!" You praised your best friend.

"I'm your fairy Godmother for a reason!" She smiled, waving a invisible wand around.

The waiter dropped off everyone's drinks, "I propose a toast," Gabby said raising her drink in the air. "To Y/n and Chan!"

"To Y/n and Chan!" Everyone cheered, clanking their glasses together.

You took a sip of your drink, praying this all works.

< Previous chapter Next chapter >

[myemuisemo]

"On the Great Alkali Plain" part 2, from Letters from Watson, arrived in my inbox this morning, bringing with it a predictable cloud of dust from approaching horses (since this isn't a George R.R. Martin novel, so we're not going to introduce characters just to kill them off immediately).

But what a caravan! When the head of it had reached the base of the mountains, the rear was not yet visible on the horizon. Right across the enormous plain stretched the straggling array, waggons and carts, men on horseback, and men on foot. Innumerable women who staggered along under burdens, and children who toddled beside the waggons or peeped out from under the white coverings.

Either we're running late on the Oregon Trail (since Doyle did not have social media to live-blog progress across the dusty waste) or the year 1847 is important, and these are Mormons.

“Shall I go forward and see, Brother Stangerson,” asked one of the band.

These have got to be Mormons.

“Nigh upon ten thousand,” said one of the young men; “we are the persecuted children of God—the chosen of the Angel Merona.”

Tell me you're a Mormon without telling me you're a Mormon.

“We are the Mormons,” answered his companions with one voice.

OMG, they're Mormons.

This makes the geographic names a little dicey -- the Mormon Trail ran through Wyoming, similar but not identical to today's I-80, so the Rio Grande River should be nowhere nearby -- but Doyle didn't have access to Google Maps, and it's not like his readers in the UK would go factcheck. Even with the Transcontinental Railroad completed back in 1869, most places in the Great American Desert were still remote in the 1880s, and California on the far end was still feeling the effects of isolation. Doyle also misspells the Angel Moroni and uses a masculine-ending name on a Sierra, so he's working from popular myth and the memory of things he's read. I wonder how many letters with corrections he received.

(At the time Doyle was writing, "Mormon" was the term used by the group themselves. Since about the 1980s, church leadership started urging the use of "Latter-Day Saints" instead. When I lived in Phoenix, that's near a big LDS population in Mesa, so I wince at using the older term. From here on out, if I'm quoting Doyle, I'll use "Mormon," but if I'm talking, I'll stick to LDS.)

The big reason the LDS wagon train is headed west is because they practiced polygamy at the time, and this was considered both illegal and immoral in larger U.S. society. (That's not a critique of polyamory today, when enthusiastic concept and clear rules are normalized.)

So far Doyle's account of the LDS party is generally positive -- they're organized, efficient, knowledgeable about their surroundings, prepared for danger, and responsible toward people needing rescue, if a bit holier-than-thou -- but I can't believe he's going to handle polygamy with anything other than distaste.

Polygamy is the thing LDS have been known for (to their chagrin after the mainstream LDS church banned it), so at the end of this section, Doyle's original audience is split into two groups:

Readers who have no real idea what a "Mormon" is and accept it as just one more crazy American thing, who now figure Lucy is rescued and wonder what goes wrong later to lead to murder; and

Readers who know about polygamy and are feeling dread for Lucy.

[wellpresseddaisy]

Use Any Means part 10

If he was asked, years later, what he’d eaten for dinner the night he met Mr. Du, Percy Weasley would be completely incapable of answering. He remembered it as one of the better meals he’d eaten in several weeks (mostly as it wasn’t hastily eaten cafeteria sandwiches), but the contents remained a mystery. Hermione shattered his concentration on his dinner companions by sending a note down to the dining room right before the cheese course. He unfolded it and tried to focus on the words:

Percy,

Ron just told me that he forgot to mention one important point from last year. Umbridge forced Harry to write lines with a blood quill for much of the year. You can come up and see the scars if you feel the need to verify this.

Hermione

Percy rose without even thinking about it.

“I’m terribly sorry, but I think I need to speak with Miss Granger immediately.”

“Of course, Mr. Weasley,” Mr. Du sounded amused for some reason as he rang for a footman. “Ah, Reynolds, could you take Mr. Weasley up to the day room, please?”

Percy followed the young footman uout of the room, his mother’s

“He isn’t usually so distracted, Mr. Du, although I know he hasn’t been eating or sleeping properly. I…oh yes, this would do it. I’ll show you, Mr. Du, but you’ll have to remain calm.”

trailing out the room behind them.

Did she know? Did everyone know? He’d worked so hard to protect his family over the last year, once he worked out what the Minister wanted. He knew before that awful argument, but who else could get information out? He got the position he did  because Fudge thought he was a useful naif and he could organize a schedule like nobody’s business. Did the Minister know what Dolores had been up to at Hogwarts? Or had he sent her there to be rid of her simpering for a year? Percy could never quite tell where things stood between them, honestly. Fudge seemed to lean on her in the strangest ways when she was at the Ministry. Without her, he seemed almost normal. Percy had just about got him to admit to You-Know-Who’s return privately when that mess at the Ministry happened.

The clean-up alone gave him the headache. Writing a statement for Fudge and handling his own feelings on the matter nearly had him down with migraine. He still couldn’t quite believe they’d lost Sirius Black. Sirius, who had been his only link, who wrote him the letter that started him collecting information for the Order. Percy didn’t know what he would have done without Sirius’ encouragement during some of those dark days. Sirius understood estrangement from one’s family and just how much it hurt, even when it was a necessary evil. As if he hadn’t see through the Minister’s ulterior motives in thirty seconds. He’d helped raise Fred and George, for Merlin’s sake. If he missed something that transparent then he deserved what he got.

He just wished he could have saved his mother some heartache. She worked so hard to keep hearth and home together and he’d…best not go down that road now. That road led to weeping into a teacup and far more mucus than one should have to handle in a day. Bill and Charlie each sent a howler that he still blushed to remember. As Sirius said, sometimes you simply had to do what needed doing and pay the price later. He could carry his family’s anger with him as long as he needed to if it kept them safe. That was all he wanted and what did it get him? His brother and sister rushing into peril (again) and Harry tortured for a year before losing his godfather.

Why the hell hadn’t Sirius flooded him? He’d told the man and told the man that if anything kicked off at the Ministry he was to know first. He could have…perhaps he could have stopped some of it. Perhaps he could have kept Sirius out of it or Ron or Hermione from being so horribly injured. They’d mocked him as a perfect, but he knew the value of a querulously official tone. People might think one weak, but that was how one claimed the element of surprise. If he’d known about Dolores…did Ron truly think he’d allow that sort of thing to go on? Did he believe Percy would allow a child his mother claimed as one of her own (a young man his brother claimed as brother) to be grievously injured? To be tortured?

Percy had worked himself into such an affronted lather by the time Reynolds coughed discreetly and said,

“The day room, Mr. Weasley.”

that he forgot all decorum and slammed the door open.

“How dare you keep something like this to yourself, Ronald Bilius?” he thundered.

Gone was Pompous Perfect Prefect Percy who couldn’t get anyone to mind him. This was pure enraged elder brother, like Charlie’s big hand landing on your shoulder as he growled ‘You’re knicked, sunshine’ or Bill’s incredibly weary ‘Right then, could you run me through your thoroughly asinine plan one more time, please’. Ron straightened up from his sideways slump on the sofa with a horrified squeak. Percy watched as he scrambled among Hermione’s books, trying to right the mess his sudden shift created.

“I can certainly promise you that the minute you turn seventeen I’m hunting up Great Grand Aunt Viola’s hairbrush. What would ever make you think to keep actual torture a secret?”

He heard Reynolds choke on a laugh as he closed the door. They’d certainly give the Servants’ Hall something to talk about tonight.

“What on earth…” Hermione finished rescuing her books and stacked them on the side table.

“And you, Miss Granger. I expected more sense from you.” He scolded.

“You’re the one who wrote that letter!” Ron protested, standing to square up with him.

When had his little brother shot up like that?

“Which I expected you to see straight through! I taught you about ulterior motives when you were four, Ronald. I thought you might remember.”

“Ulterior…” Ron’s voice trailed off as he thought. “You utter prat!”

“Do you really think I wouldn’t see straight through Fudge and Umbridge’s machinations? Fred and George had more guile in their little fingers when they were three than those two have ever managed between them. Of course I saw through it. The best I could do was make you angry enough to stop speaking to me, all of you. Although I had some hopes my brother wouldn’t be a complete idiot about it.”

Ron spluttered something, probably something foul which Percy decided he didn’t need to know, while Hermione looked thoughtful.

“You’ve been sending information to the Order, haven’t you?” she asked.

“Mr. Black,” Percy confirmed.

“I thought you were so wrapped up in the Minister that you’d never lift a finger to help.” Ron admitted.

“I could have tried. With Dolores at Hogwarts I was slowly bringing Fudge around. Next time you decide to form an extracurricular fighting force, could you possibly let me know? I could have had him laughing the whole thing off and not attempting to arrest Dumbledore.” Percy suddenly felt every single hour of overtime he’d worked.

“Then you shouldn’t have been such a berk at Harry’s trial.” Ron muttered.

Percy stifled the urge to remind Ron who taught him how to use a fork.

“I wasn’t at Harry’s trial. Dolores suggested that I would have trouble with impartiality so I spent that morning reorganizing the filing system.”

“But Harry saw you there as a clerk. You hardly even looked at him.”

Percy’s mind whirred. Could someone have…one wasn’t perhaps as careful in the Ministry, at work, as one might be elsewhere. He could have shed some hair and it could have been used in Polyjuice, he supposed.

“This has suddenly become a touch more complicated.”

“Do you believe us about the blood quill?” Hermione asked.

“Of course I believe you. You’re none of you liars and it’s exactly like Dolores.”

“Then sit down a minute and have a cup of tea or something. Mum’s right—you look peaky.” Ron slouched to a sideboard and poured a cup of tea.

Hermione stared until he moved to an easy chair across from the sofa and sank into it. A side table scuttled over to park itself by his arm rest. He patted it absently. Ron brought his tea over and then went back to the sofa. Merlin but he felt like a perfect again, dealing with miscreants.

“Now, from the beginning, please. What happened between Harry and Dolores?”

“And you’ll look at Harry’s hand?” Ron pressed.

‘I’ll look at Harry’s hand, I promise you.”

“We, er…” Hermione sighed, looking a bit chagrined. “The truth is I used my injury from the Ministry to guilt Harry into giving up the memories of his detentions. Madame Pomfrey took them for us and sealed them so you know they haven’t been tampered with. He’ll probably be put out with us, but we can give them to you, if you think you’ll need proof.”

“I’m going to the Minister directly after this,” Percy said. “It’s a bit delicate now, with the blood quill and Harry being the Black Duke, but I’ll talk Fudge around. The memories will help. Now, from the beginning.”

He fixed Ron and Hermione with a Look and they began talking.

--------------------------------------

Ron fiddled with the tea set at the sideboard for a moment before pouring himself a cup. He felt like a complete and utter juggins, not trusting Percy. He should have known, should have read that letter again instead of pitching it onto the fire in a rage. He throat hurt from all the talking. Percy took them over and over and over the year before he produced a dictaquill from his breast pocket and set it on parchment, making them say everything over again. Even feeling as he did, knowing Percy had everything under as much control as he could have him a sense of relief. He’d just wanted someone to do something about…about the whole terrible year they’d endured. All the decrees and the Quidditch ban and Harry bleeding everywhere all the time and Umbridge’s smug, today face every time she made one of them hurt. He should have tried to trust Percy.

Wasn’t Percy the one who was always there to help? Bill and Charlie were brilliant, but they weren’t interested in little brothers much. Percy had helped Mum and kept him entertained and taught him all sorts of things. And he repaid that by taking a leaf from Fred and George’s book as soon as he could.

“Ron, please stop fidgeting and come sit. They sent up a plate of sandwiches.”

Ron sighed and brought tea over to the sofa for both of them. He felt awash with it now, but he wanted to be awake just in case Harry woke earlier than expected. Sandwiches might help.

“What did Percy mean about finding your great grand aunt’s hairbrush when you turn seventeen?” Hermione asked suddenly.

Ron choked on his ham and cheddar.

“You can’t just go asking people things like that over sandwiches, Hermione!” he protested once he cleared his windpipe of crumbs.

“You aren’t people; you’re Ron.” Hermione bit into an egg and cress daintily.

“You could have waited until I swallowed,” he complained.

“Well?”

“It’s just…” Ron stopped and stared down at his plate. “You know magical society think my family is strange, yeah?”

“I didn’t think it was everyone.”

“I reckon it is, about, at least in the Hogwarts set. It isn’t just Dad or the Burrow being what it is. It’s…Mum and Dad have never hit us.”

“That’s strange?”

Her tone suggested it shouldn’t be strange, but Ron kept staring at his lap.

“You know how old fashioned people can be. I know loads of people at Hogwarts wouldn’t dare behave at home how they will at school. Bet they catch hell for it, though. Someone’s always going to tell, especially if it'll get them out of trouble.”

“And your parents don’t…Ron that isn’t strange at all. My parents have never laid hands on me, either.”

“It is in this world.” Ron gestured to the room. “Here your parents…they don’t own you, but there’s a lot more allowed. The magical world left the non-magical one when physical punishment was normal and…and considered the right thing to do for the good of one’s soul. Dad got injured early in his career and had to stay back at the office. They had all these non-magical journals that did research on raising kids and they all found that hitting didn’t work. Dad brought them home and Mum read them and they decided together. So, yeah, everyone thinks we’re weird and spoiled or something like that.”

“I’m still not sure where the hairbrush comes in.” Hermione reached over and grasped one of his hands.

“Oh, that’s to get people off Mum’s back. She’ll mutter something about it or tell us that we’re going to regret it when Dad gets home if we aren’t behaving. People still know, though. But the seventeen thing…” Ron felt his cheeks heat and struggled not to snigger.  

“What on earth could be so embarrassing?”

“It isn’t, not really. Mum…she…we’ve all of us asked why and I think I asked when Mum was distracted because she told me about their decision and how they never wanted any of us to be afraid of them or telling them anything and then…then she told me that it was perfectly acceptable for adults to decide they wanted…that in a relationship and some people liked to be in charge and enjoyed a more traditional set of roles and…er, that’s about when she realized what she was saying and almost ran out of the room because I was nine. So now when Bill or Charlie or Percy is annoyed with us they, er, well the birthday thing. Percy usually isn’t that open...must’ve really hacked him off.”

Hermione snorted, pressing her lips together. “Sorry…sorry, Ron it’s…”

“It was pretty funny at the time. Still is, now. Mum’s face, Hermione.”

“But it’s really…”

“Not sure how common, honestly, but accepted, yeah. I know there’s a few I wouldn’t want to be…Merlin, what if someone found someone like that for Snape?” Ron went off in a peal of laughter. “I’m imagining Lucius Malfoy interviewing people. Dad says he’s always talking Snape up at the Ministry. What if he’s trying to get him off his hands?”

“He’d eat them alive, honestly.” But she giggled anyway. “Really even OWL and NEWT students?”

“If you’re under their roof then you’re under their rules. Some families have different rules, too, like you might be of age for the government at seventeen but the family charter says it’s twenty-one or twenty-five. Mum has some corkers about people she knew. It’s one reason some get married so young.”

“How do you wrap your head around it? Especially considering how, oh, I don’t know, Malfoy behaves at school. Or Smith, who is a complete toe-rag.”

Ron shrugged. “I reckon it’s growing up knowing and knowing we were different.”

“And…was it Fred’s left buttock? They make it sound like a giant joke.”

“It is now because Dad apologized and promised it would never happen again. And it hasn’t. I think Dad was more upset over all of it than even the twins, but I was three.”

“Do you think there are any books…” Hermione began.

Ron fought bravely but lost his composure completely. “A how-to or maybe a stud book…” he managed around hiccups of mirth.

“Ronald! Don’t be crass or it will be a how-to manual!” she thwacked him with a cushion.

“Oooh-er, promises!”

Ron hauled a cushion over his face and howled as Hermione bashed him over the head.

[laventadorn]

rough draft of two nje ch 15 scenes

so rough you could exfoliate with them! feel them strip the dead cells right off and leave your skin glowing and healthy*

*results not guaranteed

i've had an ass-kicking cold for the past four days; as in, it's kicking my ass. while i wait to breathe normally again, have some... more draco pov? idk why it's so easy and fun to write him -- maybe because i'm not emotionally invested in him and he's kind of a wet rag.

Harriet leaned over the bar, pinching the bridge of her nose. 

“You did not tell me,” she said in a low voice, “that it was this many people.”

“Well, I – didn’t know they were going to be this. Numerous,” Hermione said (squeakily). 

“They must’ve told their friends,” Ron muttered. “I swear we were just talking to prefects in our year–”

Asteria patted Harriet on the back. Her hand might’ve been shaking a little (or a lot). Harriet didn’t blame her one bit – instead of a few prefects, all the Gryffindors in their year had turned up – Dean, Seamus, Neville, Lavender, Parvati and her sister Padma with her; Ginny and the other girls on the Gryffindor Quidditch team; Fred and George; that Luna girl from the train; a handful of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws from their year who Harriet only knew in the most general way from sitting classes with them for five years; and, most surprisingly, Cedric Diggory and Cho Chang. At the sight of this many people trooping in to discuss her teaching them defense spells, Harriet had considered faking poisoning to get out of it – surely in the Hog’s Head it would be believable that she could’ve accidentally picked something up, even if it was just a long-term growth on her butterbeer bottle. 

In the end, the most she’d done was woodenly excuse herself and hunker down at the corner of the bar. Hermione, Ron, and Asteria, who’d been sitting in increasingly loud silence as the number of attendees grew, had scurried after her.

“Should we make a break for it?” Ron asked in a low voice. “I see a door behind the bar there. Probably leads to the yard.”

Harriet took off her glasses to scrub her hands over her face. Then she hooked the ends back over her ears with a sigh. “No . . . we’re already here. Anyway I’ve made more of a prat of myself in front of a bigger number of people.”

“You won’t make a. Prat of yourself,” said Hermione firmly. Asteria nodded vigorously, though she looked about to faint.

The barman gave a soft snort, like he didn’t agree. He seemed sort of familiar, but Harriet couldn’t place him. He was rubbing a dirty glass with an even dirtier rag, and she got the sense the only reason he hadn’t told them to bugger off was a disinclination for speaking to customers. 

“How can you say that, after knowing me all these years?” said Harriet to Hermione; she patted Asteria on the arm. “I make a prat of myself hourly. All right, let’s get this over with.”

Fred and George were handing out dusty bottles of butterbeer to the five-times-larger-than-Harriet-would’ve-preferred group that had overtaken a couple of tables to one side of the taproom. As she approached, all eyes pinned on her, and she almost made a break for the back door after all. She realized it was one thing to make a prat of herself spontaneously and quite another to get up in front of a bunch of people prepared to make a prat of herself. 

“Er,” she said. 

#

Draco breathed the open air in Hogsmeade. The best thing about it was that it was currently Pansy-free. 

Actually, he’d been having some good Pansy-free time lately. She was so fired up with this Inquisitors business, she’d stopped resembling a human-shaped growth on his arm. Prefects had to follow certain guidelines, but Umbridge’s Inquisitors had more leeway to properly abuse power. Draco hadn’t really known Pansy would have the initiative, but she’d proven quite good at conjuring up random infractions to inflict on people; other Houses were leaking points in small but significant totals. He was sort of impressed, but if she wasn’t careful, she was going to wind up with a head full of leeks when somebody snapped and hexed her. 

He’d also seen her scheming a lot with Daphne, probably to get back at Potter. He’d heard Tracey warning Daphne off – “You don’t want Potter as an enemy, don’t you remember?” – but he hadn’t said anything to Pansy. Aside from the fact that she wouldn’t listen, it wasn’t his business to make her smart about it. Besides, if she was busy crafting Potter voodoo dolls in dark corners, she wasn’t clinging on to him. 

Yes, he had a lot of time to himself lately. It was . . . rather quiet. 

Really, he wasn’t sure he liked it. His mind tended to go places that were dark and full of shadows. 

And yet talking to people was so much work these days. They hadn’t been – where he’d been.

(Wasn’t it pathetic? He was fine now. Why should he still struggle to fall asleep in the dark because it was dark?)

He was drifting down a side street when he saw something peculiar: Asteria and Potter meeting up with – Granger and the Weasel. 

He edged behind a street lamp, but he was far enough away that they didn’t spot him. But he couldn’t be too careful: Gryffindors might be oblivious as a fence-post, but Asteria had been better taught in Slytherin. And he’d noticed her tall form and fair hair. 

Asteria was hanging back a little behind Potter, who seemed to be making introductions, if the way Granger was smiling and Weasley giving a cringingly awkward wave was any indication. Asteria sort of twitched at them. Well, she could be cringingly awkward too, even if she was enormously good-looking and of much better breeding than the Weasel.  

They didn’t linger long after these first hellos, but headed off down the street. Potter still kept herself between Asteria and the others, as if providing a shield. 

Still edged behind the street-lamp, Draco reached up and touched the brooch he always wore on his lapel since his mother had given it to him - a Black family heirloom that activated a concealment spell with the right trigger. A quick check in a dusty shop window showed a nondescript wizard, not suspiciously plain, but unremarkable, standing in his place. 

Off he went after them. They stopped one street over and, after a brief pause in which Potter traded looks with her cronies, headed into a dingy building that Draco recognized from his third year, but had never ventured near since. 

The Hog’s Head? 

He almost turned to make a very dignified exit in a very opposite direction . . . but he reminded himself that the barman wouldn’t recognize him like this; his mother did not pass on useless trinkets. And besides, if Potter and cronies were about to get tossed out on their ears, he wanted to see.

The bar was the same as he remembered: filthy, low-class, poorly lit. The same candles stuck to the dirt-encrusted tables in their own wax; the same bay windows that probably hadn’t been cleaned since the goblin rebellion of 1612; the same floor you couldn’t see for all the grime and sawdust. The same bartender. . . 

You are not Draco Malfoy; you are a gormless nobody named Deacon Pines. 

He took a seat at the bar. The barman glanced at him with a sardonic gleam in his eye.

“Firewhiskey sour,” said Draco, with an accent that made him sound like Potter. 

The barman stared at him a moment longer with a gimlet eye, but made the drink and shoved it over. Draco held a single sip in his mouth, trying not to cringe. How his father could drink these. . .

Potter was sitting in a corner, easily visible from his seat at the bar, talking in low tones with Granger and the Weasel. Asteria sat at her side, content to be ignored, but looking round the room. He had actually never had call to observe her this closely or at leisure: she almost always faded from notice, and she seldom spent time in places around loads of other people. But shielded from notice beside Potter, she didn’t seem as jittery as usual. 

Then her eyes widened. Draco couldn’t help looking over his shoulder, and almost spat out his mouthful of whiskey.

A whole troop of people were marching across the threshold. The barman even dropped his scowl of suspicion to gape at the amount of Hogwarts students now cluttering up his taproom. Draco hunkered down at his spot at the bar – he wasn’t Asteria, shaken up by somebody looking in his mere direction, but he didn’t fancy being noticed by this crowd of Slytherin-haters when he was alone and unallied.

He glanced up; Potter had come to the other end of the bar, and was leaning over it like she wanted to brain herself on the edge. Asteria was patting her on the back. Granger and Weasley seemed to be attempting some pep talk. 

Draco suddenly had a vision of himself having a minor wig-out in the corner, and Crabbe and Goyle trying to offer advice while Pansy rubbed his shoulders. He almost swallowed a burning mouthful of his rancid drink. As if Crabbe and Goyle would care enough to think of something to say – or be able to, even if they did. As if Pansy would be able to get over herself long enough to be soothing. 

He couldn’t hear the conversation, but after a moment Potter straightened up, face resigned, and turned back to the slack-brained crowd. What was she nervous about? 

“Er,” she said eloquently. 

All right, so maybe she was nervous because she had the public speaking skills of a puffskein. 

She darted a look at Granger, who moved up next to her. 

“Thank you for. Coming,” said Granger in that stop-start way she had these days. “Well, we – put together this meeting for – people with concerns and – questions about. . . some recent things.” She swallowed; Potter, arms folded, shifted her stance a bit so that her shoulder was touching Granger’s. Granger’s chin came up a little. 

“And because we need to learn Defense and certainly there’s no – proper teacher this year – ”

“Hear, hear!” said one of the heinous Weasley twins. A titter went through the group. 

“I take it you’re worried about passing your O.W.L.s too?” asked one of the Ravenclaw swots. Behind Granger and Potter, Weasley rolled his eyes. Draco would never agree with the Weasel, who was barely literate, but Merlin’s beard, did Ravenclaws ever shut up about grades?

Granger was answering that question when a blond Hufflepuff from their Quidditch team – Zanius or something – interrupted her with a nasally voice:

“I have a question.”

Potter raised her eyebrows at his tone, but said, “Yeah?”

“Why’d you bring her here?” He pointed behind her – at Asteria, who went bright red. “Everyone’s seen you palling around with a Slytherin, but to just waltz in here together – how do you know she’s not a spy for that Umbridge?”

Asteria shrunk in on herself. Weasley scowled at that wart Zanius, but everyone else held their breath, as if waiting to see how Potter would handle this. They’d surely been wondering the same thing.

“Asteria is my friend,” said Potter coldly, but the look in her eye blazed, even in the smoke-stained light. “If you don’t trust your friends, that’s not my problem – nor is who I choose to be friends with any of your business. If you don’t like it, you know where the door is.”

Asteria looked up at her, and if those weren’t stars in her eyes, Draco wasn’t a Malfoy. Zanius’ mouth hung open a little, before he turned a dull read.

“It was just a question,” he muttered. 

“Right,” said Potter, with sarcasm so good a Slytherin wouldn’t have been ashamed to use it. “Glad to answer it for you.

“So,” she continued into the weighted silence. Her nerves appeared to have been tempered in the fire of Gryffindor righteousness; she no longer looked like she wanted to leap over the tables and run out the door. “If anyone has any real questions – ones about blokes called Voldemort, or anything you actually came here for – now’s the time.”

The Weasley twins traded raised eyebrows. Several people looked impressed, a couple like it was their turn to want to scurry out the door. Draco certainly wouldn’t want Potter looking at him with that eye – it reminded him more than a little of the barkeep’s when he’d nabbed a third-year Draco asking for firewhiskey, or McGonagall’s when she found Crabbe doing unspeakable things to a mouse in class. 

“Is You-Know-Who the one who hurt Hermione Granger?” asked a sweet, soft voice – Draco thought her name was Loony Lovegood. Pansy made fun of her sometimes. Pansy said she was a nutter; Draco thought dotty. Her earrings looked like orange radishes, making her an even worse dresser than Potter.

Potter looked at Loony in silence for a moment, that militant light dimmed. Granger put her hand on Potter’s arm. 

“Yes,” she said simply. “Harriet saved my life.”

Murmurs shifted through the crowd like wind through the treetops. Draco looked down into his disgusting drink. 

What would that be like… murmured a voice in his mind. 

What, being captured by the Dark Lord? Granger’s a Mudblood, and she was only taken because she’s Potter’s best friend, so she made the best bait. Your family is loyal. . . you’ll be safe.

But Potter had gone to rescue her – somehow . . . and had gotten her out. 

What would it be like. . . to have a friend like that?

[unchataparis]

Reasons Why Lila Rossi Is One of the Best Miraculous Characters

I am not defending anything as I don't believe opinions need to be defended. That being said, I would like to announce that I am firmly aware Lila isn't a stereotypically good person, one might even call her – bad. But I do strongly believe Lila is a good character (even if she's not a particularly well-written one).

[Note: Have not seen Season 5 yet, I do not know what is going on there. All my rationale is based off Seasons 1-4.]

1. Lila is INTERESTING

Think about it. Every time this girl has stepped onto the screen, when has she ever failed to do something to generate controversy, scandal, and send the fandom collapsing in on itself like an undercooked soufflé scrabbling over her actions? The events of Caméléon and Ladybug cemented her notoriety in the narrative, and, coincidentally, her presence in Season 3 are what also sent the fandom over the Point of No Return. It got to the point where Chloé became preferred over Lila, if the amount of Chloé & Marinette 'best friends' fanfics on AO3 say anything.

Despite her tremendous impact on the story however, not much of Lila is known. Her family, her past, why she lies, or how she even wants her infatuation with Adrien to turn out (again, has not seen Season 5).

2. Lila is COMPETENT

Lila joins league with Félix in being teenage villains who can accomplish Papillombre's job much better than him. I firmly believe that much of Gabriel's bumbling and ineptitude is due to cartoon limitations and the need to dismiss common sense for the sake of telling an entertaining story, but nonetheless – like Félix – Lila displays an attitude of ruthlessness, cut-throat determination, and will which allows her to gain the upperhand over the heroine of the story. Both Félix and Lila alike has managed to overwhelm, throttle, and push Marinette/Ladybug to despair that Papillombre has yet to reach.

More than that, Lila is in absence of many of the powers that make Gabriel formidable. She's not rich or famous (yet), neither does she have minions, or a Miraculous on her chest. But while these scarcities should make her more vulnerable and less impressive, they only add to her legend, increasing her mysteriousness, movement, and competency.

After all, Gabriel Agreste has a schedule, reputation, and history to keep. Lila Rossi can flicker in and out of society for all anyone cares.

3. Lila is COOL

She really is. If I'm asked to select one Miraculous character to embody and borrow the style of: Lila, no contest. Her hair, her playsuit, her jewellery, her boots. All Miraculous characters are dressed in atrocious Y2K fashion (which are admirably accurate to the era) paired with obnoxious colour palettes, but Lila's stye is more stomachable than average.

Beside, Lila has a quality that many characters in Miraculous lack: confidence, and a paucity in need to doubt her own actions. The heroine display plenty of anxiety and guilt, so does her leading male co-star. Even stoic characters such as Gabriel and Kagami hesitate at times. But apart from Félix, Lila is the only character I can think of that's 100% in at all times. In her case it's not an entirely positive trait as many of her actions could use some self-reflection, but the boldness is refreshing.

I always found the IT girl characters and Queen Bees more appealing than mousy protagonists, Regina George over Cady Heron, and Mackenzie Hollister rather than Nikki Maxwell. It's just so much more interesting to see the world from the perspective of someone who's out to conquer it rather than survive it. Beside, the outfits, the attitudes, what's not to love?

Lila is a complicated, messy, dislikable character, sure, and she bears a certain one-dimensional-ness of her writing which makes her generally unrealistic. But Lila is also an important part of the storyline, a future Papillon (or as the rumour mills go), and in the short few appearances she's made, Lila has been more of a threat to Ladybug, more of a wrecking ball to Ladybug's psyche, than Gabriel has been throughout the etntire show. Honestly, I'm firmly of the belief that if it isn't for Lila's involvement, Miraculous' fandom wouldn't be as active and operative as it is today.

[okwritingandpain]

Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da: The Beatles x Reader

Chapter 14

"I can't believe that happened." Y/N muttered as she looked around frantically outside. George and Ringo looked at each other and whispering behind her. 

"Y/N." George said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "John told you that he and Aunt Mimi didn't get along very well, right?" 

"He very much implied it." She replied, watching Ringo and George exchange another glance. 

"This happens...almost every time we come here, but...I never seen him...have this reaction and definitely not with Paul involved." George explained.

"You're bloody blind, George. He was getting defensive. You saw how he reacted to you and John. He's obviously jealous." Ringo snapped.

"Of what, Ringo?" George hissed turning to glare at Y/N. The three stood in silence for what felt like forever. Ringo finally made a deep sigh as he walked up to one of the windows to check on the commotion.

"Of Y/N. I should have known it would go like this. I could just tell that Paul was bursting at the seems. It's almost like he just knew something about you, Y/N." Ringo muttered. George didn't seem to be listening to Ringo as be paced the grass angrily.

"What do you mean by that?" She asked, walking over to where Ringo stood.

"Paul always talked about this song. Yesterday or something and he remembered you playing the piano with him." He explained, watching John and Paul yell at each other. The two looked absolutely furious. So in the end she had messed it all up. The whole point of her being there was that she was supposed to prevent everything and now...it was worse somehow.

"How do we fix this?" She asked, heading back to the door.

"I don't know if we can. They have to talk this out." Ringo tried to reason with her. George came up behind the two.

"Yes, give them time. They obviously aren't in any mood to be in a relationship of any kind. Maybe Y/N should look for someone better, hm?" George put on a smug look. She couldn't believe it. She had messed up everything and now everyone was different. They changed...Ringo and George were arguing their brains out and it all became so overwhelming. She couldn't take it as she ran from the house and down the street. Her senses overwhelmed her until tears flowed from her eyes. There was nothing she could do. Nothing. She had failed Paul and everyone else! Running across the street, one of Y/N's hairpins fell. Going to pick it up, the brightest lights flashed in her eyes. Then everything went dark.

"What did you do?" A familiar voice asked. Y/N's eyes slightly opened as she tried to get a sense of her surroundings. She was on something black like a piano. Wait she was on a piano. A very modern piano. Sitting up, she was shocked to see the Paul McCartney that had put her in the past in the first place.

"What?" She asked, not quite understanding what was happening.

"Now your awake, huh?" Paul's face was stern and cold. "Do you realize what you have done?"

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to--"

"There is nothing to apologize for...except for breaking up our bloody band!" Paul snapped as he pulled out his phone. Strange enough, the search engine said that the Beatles broke up in 1962.

"That really sent you all over the edge?" She asked, scrolling through the articles.

"Yes, your death. That's what sent everyone over the edge." Paul hissed, snatching his phone back from her. Her death? She must have been hit by a car sent back here.

"What happened to everyone?" Y/N asked, confused as ever.

"One thing you did do right was that everyone is alive." Paul explained, "None of us reached any crazy popularity except for...believe it or not Ringo."

"You've got to be kidding." She replied. Ringo of all people. He was talented that's for sure, but the most popular out of the four of them? Now that was a stretch.

"Honestly, I'm shocked too, but now we have a more serious issue. Getting the band back together." Paul muttered.

"Are you sending me back in time again?" Paul shook his head.

"We're going to make the biggest comeback in history." Paul smirked.

"And you still need me?" She asked, raising her eyebrow.

"Now more than ever, Luv." He said. "You are going to bring everyone together. They all think that you are dead, but we know the truth and now...and now everything can be fixed." 

"Why do you want this to be fixed? What is there to fix? Life played out the way it was for a reason and now you want to change it!" She snapped, getting off the piano to confront Paul. 

"You went along with it!" 

"I had no choice! You blasted me into yesterday or whatever and now you expect me to work with you. You're Paul flipping McCartney and yet you can't even be what people loved." She frowned.

"I play music and give people the joy of music. I've never heard of anyone who looked up to be for anything but my music!" 

"They look up to the fact that you never gave up and took the easy road. You and the rest of the band got through so much together! Now you're just trying to fix something that can mend what's broken, but that's not how life works, Paul! Life happens and yes it hurts for the longest time but one day it all changes because you realize that there is no point in dwelling on something that can't and won't change!" Y/N grabbed anything that she could remember leaving there and she stormed out. Paul didn't know what to say as she left. What was he supposed to say to that? He just wanted the glory days back. He knew what he had to do to fix something that could be mended. His relationship with the one person he didn't even realize he had screwed over. 

"You say I can't mend anything when I know I can mend our relationship. Just like the others, this can all change." Paul opened his phone to call someone. 

"Hello?" 

"Hi, is this John Lennon. I'm sure you know who I am..."

[f0point5]

Okay I feel like there’s a common misconception of hating on wags cause girls want to be one and yes that is the case for some girls but most girls who run gossip pages would actually not want to be wags cause if your are dating a hated driver you are fucked.

To say that wags get unnecessary hate is a lie, they get criticized more than anything, we all know its mostly the wags that do stupid shit just to get attention, (also before going into this I’ve never seen lances gf getting criticized, its always just lance and people question how they started dating, but they do just so they can find another reason to hate on lance.)

To say that all wag get hate just cause they are dating a driver and people are jealous is actually stupid cause often times fans of other drivers will come after the wags as a way of hating on the driver himself. We see this happen all the time, some max fans can’t stop bringing up checo cheating when hating on the Mexican, like honestly if him and his wife have moved on so should everyone fucking else.

Now when it comes to Lewis fans and Max fans hating on Kelly, like can you honestly blame them, who in their right mind as a mother thinks it’s normal to post your daughter naked, to have your daughter in a taxi without a seatbelt or car seat mind you in the video P was standing by the fucking window, people question how Kelly gets credit for being a good mom when she continues to do questionable things, she uses her daughter and max for clout, but it’s okay cause all wags use their boyfriends for clout right. Also don’t forget to mention that Kelly literally admitted to having a magical night with max when he was barely 18, hell for all we know he could have 17 and she was 27. But sure people have no fucking right to criticize her for her fucking actions, people have no reason to say she’s a fake activist when she posts about what’s happening right now and then posts an ads 3 post later, people have no right in criticizing her for defending her racist dads views, no one can criticize her for talking about overconsumption when it comes to holiday sales but she sits there with over 200 clothing items in max’s fucking home, no can criticize her for saying MAX IS A FUCKING STEPFATHER, after HE HAS SAID MULTIPLE TIMES HE’S NOT CAUSE P’S DAD IS IN HER LIFE. But yeah no don’t criticize her, she’s doing nothing wrong, fuck if that list wasn’t so fucking long I would go on.

People can’t criticize or judge Alexandra for deadass quitting university to fucking follow a guy around who is known to dump he’s girlfriends after 3-4 years cause he simply got fucking bored.

People rarely criticize Heidi from what I’ve seen, they mainly just make fun of Daniel for being with her for so long and not marrying her. But what I do I know right.

People can’t criticize Carmen for leaving her job for George like who the fuck does that, also people make fun of her calling him GR in her fucking post cause that’s actually fucking weird just call him George like fucking hell.

People can’t criticize Rebecca’s past simply just cause they liked Isa and cause Rebecca and Isa are the polar opposite from each other.

People definitely can’t criticize Luisa for lowkey using Lando for clout like fuck dude have you not seen she’s on dancing with the stars now and as far as I’m aware of, she wasn’t so popular like she is now, after her and Lando broke up. (And I literally hate bringing her up but everyone does, so whatever)

People can’t criticize wags for using their boyfriends for clout cause apparently none of them do, but that’s simply not true. I will believe you when it comes to both lilies cause one is extremely private and the other one has been more known cause golf has started to become an even bigger sport.

But of course everything a wag does is fucking perfect and they definitely don’t use these guys for clout, no one wants to become a wag, unless your Magui who is clearly desperate to be one and same with Kelly no offense. But holy shit guess what, if you guys can defend a wag from getting hated on why can’t you guys hold that same energy and defend a driver for getting on as well. Cause I’m sorry to say, but Max, Lando and Lance are some of the most hated drivers on the grid. But yet still ain’t no one defending lance, like holy fuck but of course no woman deserves the hate but a guy does.

How about instead of defending a wag from “unnecessary hate” why not defend a driver who gets unnecessary hate as well.

At least most gossip pages keep the same energy when it comes to wags and drivers.

At the end of the day most of these wags where just regular people till they started dating a driver.

Also this is in no way to hate on anyone I’m just trying to understand how the hell can you defend some of these wags actions and hate on everyone who points them out and or throw a pity feast for the wag when they get called out for it, but you won’t do it for the person these wags are dating.

✨U N W E L L ✨

I’m not even reading all this. I’m just not. I don’t have the energy.

I read the start, so I guess my point is, if you’re not jealous…what actually are you? Bored? You’ve got a calendar year free to write about people who date people who don’t know or care about you?

What is your damage?

Happy, fulfilled, balanced people don’t have this much negativity to point towards people that they don’t know and whose lives do not affect them. Get a life. Goddamn.

I’m only posting this to illustrate the craziness that exists when people can’t detach themselves from famous people and can’t deal with their own irrelevance.

Please go send this stuff elsewhere if it serves you in some way because I literally don’t have time to adequately respond.

[richardsphere]

Some Unconnected Ramblings on RWBY V9E6

So i bit the bullet and watched the Bees episode, Im still not entirely certain i'll watch the seasons I missed or watch future episodes as im not certain it'd be good for my mental health, but I needed to see the bees at least. I dont have much of an opinion on the bees tbh, the scene was good in execution if clunky in its inclusion. Yangs little wiggle-skip on the first step was absolutely adorable, The pairing works and its nice to see RT have the balls to go for it, even if i dont actually believe the people claiming it was "planned for certain" from the start. (i believe it was planned in potentia, but kept with deliberate deniability in case of backlash with Blacksun and YangXSomeoneElse as emergency fallback options)

You know, i kind of like how Jaune treats the cat. Like i dont agree with any of it, but it makes sense for the character and narative. Like, its clear that he's projecting more then just his own insecurities. He's projecting his experiences with every other authorityfigure in the known universe onto them.

From Ironwood's sociopathic sacrifice of the innocent. Lionhearts treacherous sacrficice of hundreds of hunters Ozpins manipulation and willing sacrifice of Pyrrha.

Jaune has literally no reason to believe that anyone in any position of authority or power could ever choose NOT to sacrifice the innocent for their own dubious, nebulous goals. and i sort of respect it as a narrative direction. (I acknowledge its not a healthy worldview to have, skepticism is healthy and good, cynicism is toxic and kills the soul). I just hope that JRWBY can dig him out of the cynicism before the story turns him into fallen hero territory.

I also dont think that Jaunes story is the "truth", but unlike most comments people make about it. About how he's working with incomplete data, making wrong assumptions about which twin lived, assuming malice in acts that might be different within context, and the clear show of how a decade of hindsight has tainted his view of Alix's childish naivete into an image of horrid sociopathy. Everyones talked about all of these.

but the thing i find most interesting is how he's seemingly slandering himself in his retelling.

As he retells the story, he makes it sound like he was less a guide and protector painted in the fairytale then a particularly railroad-heavy DungeonMaster, as if he was overly controlling and downright manipulative in his handling of the kids. Meanwhile we the audience know for a fact that Jaune is a good person at heart, and Jaune is demonstrably great with kids (as long as said kids arent possessed by a thousand-year old sociopath, Liches' Georg is an outlier and should not be counted). And we know Jaune was verry well aware of the dangers of the Everafter, just one misstep, one wrong tree touched and he lost decades of his life. Clearly we can reconstruct that he wasn't this shady figure he was painting himself as, he was a worried adult trying to protect two naive children from an inherintly hostile ecosystem where any whimsy the children acted on could verry well have seen them shrunk, aged, otherwise altered or possibly killed outright.

But decades of grief have tainted his own selfimage to such a degree he now believes himself to have been this malicious parasite on the kids adventure.

Also i like how he has a point about the Reincarnation-amnesia=death of personality thing. Like yeah, even if the soul continues to exist, without the memories its not really the same person.

I dont think Alice "poisoned" jaune, i think Alice cooked them all dinner using EverAfter ingredients, served Jaune first while having a talk over dinner and just played with her food long enough to see Jaune faint from poison. (before a Punderstorm/Jabberwalker/Other threat forced them to move on without him).

I dont believe him for one second when he says the cat is some sort of psychopomp, and i definitly think the cat returned to him after the twins went missing because the cat was legitimately worried about the nice and helpfull guy who'd just ate poison.

I do believe the cat is weird though, like its ability to subjegate free will is shady and creepy, its design screams "I am definitly the crown reforged into a new sentient entity by the blacksmith". I think the cat used the smith and/or tree to free itself from its godly prison, and is in essence the only "free genie" amongst the four.

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Tuesday 11.. March 1834

6 20

12 10

my cousin had come a little in the night – fine morning F54° at 7 5 – writing little paragraph in answer to Miss W-‘s indecision about Lidgate – out at 7 ½ - by Charles Howarth’s into my  walk and an hour  there– then with Pickles or one other till 9 ¾ at which hour breakfast in the little sitting room – my father had printed prospectus of the history and antiquities of Halifax by Mr Edwards Alexander the attorney - Letter 3 pages and ends and 1st page crossed (forwarded by Dr. Belcombe from York) from M- Leamington – very affectionate and very judicious answer to my last – hopes I found Miss W- better ‘Is she une malade imaginaire  because Steph says in speaking of her to me  ‘if Miss Walker was poor she would probably not be sick’ ‘ Has anything passed in reference to the occurrences of last spring, and have you any reason to believe an answer on the same subject, if again required, would be different from that which you received last year. Freddy, since you have been in York, my thoughts have been perpetually full of you  I do love you dearly and fondly come what may my heart is not unfaithful and still as formerly and forever  my joys by yours are known   ‘What you say on the subject of making things answer is I doubt  not true as applied to you, because you have energy of character to do with your mind, what you will

SH:7/ML/E/17/0006

but not one in a thousand could in reality so bend to circumstances - you are one whose practice can be made to accord with your theory, but nevertheless there is no reason why you, with others, should not profit by the maximum of ‘look before you leap.’  - I know quite well, that it would take much more to make you satisfied than you think, for my own feelings have more than once brought the conviction that even now she  who occupied the ‘fairy visions of your youth’ would have new lessons to learn - you won’t allow it, and I know you argue well against it, but your views of domestic life are changed  and I am quite assured the people and things that could have made you happy some years ago, would not do so now, without the help of your ‘I will make it answer’ - that all, and  everything, you undertake may answer will always, dearest Fred, be my earnest prayer - God knows what time may bring to us both, but my visions for the future, do not offer a much brighter prospect than the present presents  - as the last 18 years have passed, so do I expect will be those to come, and the only comfort I have to cling to is, the circumstance that if I have few individual pleasures, I at least enjoy that of doing good to others   There are many who would have been sadly off without me, and in having done good, I can, and do, perpetually find my best consolation.  Should anything under existing contretemps deprive me of this solace, life would be altogether a burthen.’  - How one false step in early life may blast the whole remainder upon days! Poor Mary! She has disappointed me too cruelly;  but her fate, as it was her own making, is more pitiable than mine – the new lessons she would have to learn, are, how to regain my confidence - it was in losing this, she lost the all she now regrets - and  her affection for me now is the forced tribute of esteem - Marian, too, had a letter which she said annoyed her -  on inquiry – It was from Mr George Brearleyrn Terrace Grove Mirfield  to whom I wrote for her the following answer    Sir my sister has just received your letter which she has very properly put into my hands as also a copy of her answer of the third of January to your previous letter which answer ought to have  prevented  your giving her any further trouble  I hope you will deem this communication from me sufficiently  explicit and that you will see the necessity of for bearing either to write again or to call at Shibden Hall on any plea whatever I am sir etc. etc. etc.  A. Lister   Marian much pleased and obliged and being just going to Halifax put it in the post herself  out again at 12 for a little while then came in and wrote all but the last 9 lines of today - out again at 2 and from then to 7 ¼ out with one or other - chiefly with John Booth planting out flowers in my walk then moving large white rose tree, and Persian lilac, and large Aucuba japonica from the terrace to the other side the upper garden door - Mallinson Pickels and his son John and Dick helped to move the latter - In the meantime Mark Town, Mr Jospeh Akroyds’ watchman  came to take the Hanging Hey & Flat Field 11D.W. at £2 the tenant paying all taxes - will come again about them tomorrow -Dinner at 7 ½ - coffee and read till 8 ½  the 2nd series Waldensian Researches from p.382 to 425 - Pickels and his men at the terrace - Mallinson and his man at the chimney (walled (bricked) in my father’s window) Charles and James H- at the cupboard with drawers for the upper buttery and John Booth shifting gravel and soil in the morning and flowers and shrubs in the afternoon - an hour with my aunt -  wrote 3 pages to Miss W- till 11 ½ - very fine day - F55° now at 11 35 pm.

[the-firebird69]

George hasn't died fully or Jesus Christ and Trump is around and it is a curse of his castle but the first two are in tombs and trump is slated to fry. It's not a very hopeful place but it does have its uses in the history is known and the max are to blame.

Zues Hera

It's true too like demanding it he says he doesn't have enough money and they're laughing for some reason it's because he's poor all the time because of them idiots and they want to put him in there to threaten him to try and kidnap him and it's going to light it up a lot it's already a war against them and it's not really funny so we are watching them closely but their attitude is terrible. And they say we need the threat and so forth and they understand what he's saying with the hate you Blue and the other items and they say that they're not impressed with inside they do think something's wrong. They also think that he might be up to stop his brother who's out of control and they let out of control and are not controlling. There's a lot of things to say but that's one of them and it is a weird place to put him. Hey we looked at it and it looks like Trump is not going to make it and he can say our son is the daddy all he wants and nobody really believes it and they say he's associated is not really just because they had him do it but that doesn't change the fact that they plan on getting rid of him and he was in that thing for the most part and the secret documents get stored in it okay that sun won't have right axles to any secret documents and he says it would heat them up to where he should be it would feed himself up so it feels like gradual way to go there it doesn't look like there will be they can build this place in a month and it looks like it would be only possibly would be complete in July so that's what we're looking at and it's terrible there's a lot of stuff going on but that is something to watch out for and it's what the civilism is it's true it's going to go from not much symbolism to a ton of it and we are going to have to be aware of what's going on

Thor Freya

Also notice that they are planning on building the roof as it showed and it's going to be sticking way up in the air and hurricane Central how are you trying to rip the roof off to go to the troops in from the top you really need these guys are such an a****** but still the place is built like a picture house even the lumber and I can withstand massive loss of hurricane Force it was a block on it it's not cold anywhere and the roof is bolted on and we'll see to it we don't want to have any problems this place is a massive pain in the ass control and the store they still are but really people might not accept living in a nice house at all unless it's got some weird ass history very weird and it's going forwards. Here you see the two idiots getting into a Nissan and it's not much of a car to be up there so people are a little upset and said where did you rolling here and a new Nissan for this it's about the movie and stuff and I said no it's not so they started yelling or Japanese or sometimes s*** or some dumb thing and boy these guys out there but now I'm going to have to stop them and shut them down it's too much

They're retarded people and they lost all their power and can't hold it it doesn't look anything like anything else that's what it is and that's what it looks like

Thor Freya

Olympus

It actually looks that way to a lot of people it's a weird plan we have but there's no other way to do it as long as in danger and this would make a little less and yeah that place could stand a mass of hurricanes and even maybe tornado or two because you put the block on you have to put steel up these days we have enough talk going on around here they don't want anything like that for him and what we say is so what your jerks murderers and you don't care about anyone else and you're doing things so don't make sense you're going to take you down you to get to know what's going to happen. He's going to be in a castle and it is great to be a wonderful one and finally it is because we hate you so much more luck and he's right Trump is going to be defending that place even though we're going down with it Mary and Jc we will be defending the Disney room too this is really something

Macs