#I still find Boris' hair hard to colour

[stroblitz]

Such gossipy boys. I wonder who they are talking about~

[ingek73]

You can’t truly understand the royal race row unless you’ve felt the sting of skin tone bigotry

Georgina Lawton

The row over Omid Scobie’s new book has reignited a depressing debate about mixed-race identity, with our voices barely heard

Wed 6 Dec 2023 10.00 GMT

Meghan in a white coat and hat and Harry in a black suit and tie with military badges.

There are a few words and phrases I’ve muted on X (formerly Twitter) for a while, including: mixed-race, biracial, interracial relationship, and royal race row. But I would have had to have thrown my phone in the sea to avoid part two of the latter, involving Archie’s skin tone, Meghan and Harry’s unofficial biographer, Omid Scobie, and his new book, Endgame – in which the two royals who apparently commented on Archie’s skin colour before he was born were named in the Dutch-language version of the book (which was promptly pulped by the publisher).

I do sympathise – with Archie first and foremost, that is. Before he is even able to talk, his heritage has been loaded with meaning, his very existence described as progressive, transgressive, a step forwards or a step backwards, depending on whom you speak to. Being born into a story over which you have little control is a heavy load to bear. Many people of colour in white spaces and “mixed-race” people will relate.

To me, the most tedious part of this race row is the “is it racist, is it not racist” dance. While Meghan and Harry have yet to break their silence, Boris Johnson has declared that it is “not remotely racist” to query how dark a baby may be. Timeline trolls and rightwing thinkers repeat the same refrain. But rather than getting into this pointless back and forth, we need to think about why these kind of comments about skin tone are still being made in the 21st century; and those directly affected by these words need to express why, and if, it makes them feel uncomfortable.

Personally I’d quite like it if no one passed comment on my particular “mix” ever again – and I don’t think that’s too much to ask. Quite recently I was sharing a late-night taxi with someone who commented on the low “timbre” of my voice. He confidently put this down to the Nigerian side of my heritage and compared the voices of his mixed-Jamaican friends to his mixed-Nigerian friends, concluding that west Africans had voices like mine, and that I couldn’t “pass” for Jamaican. I shut this down quite quickly, but found myself tiptoeing around my language, lest he would feel that I was calling him racist – which would inflame the whole thing. I also had no backup.

I can definitely relate to having white people analysing one’s appearance or “phenotype” as a mixed-race person, trying to work out which aspect comes from the white side versus the black side. The comments are rooted in eugenicist-style thinking: they are ultimately a hallmark of darker days gone by when the justification of the subjugation of black people was rooted in proving their non-humanity. Whether or not there is ill-intent behind these kind of comments doesn’t really matter. The onus is on the person making them to educate themselves and make a pledge to do better.

Trying to empathise here is key. Many people will never really know what it’s like to be in a room full of people to whom you are related, or you know quite intimately, and overhear a remark that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and makes you wonder: do they think those things about me?

In my book Raceless, I wrote about experiences like this: the reality of being raised in all-white spaces when you are not white. Many people have written to me over the years, some of them multiracial, some of them not, to say they recognise the fatigue and mental anguish that comes from standing out in homogeneous settings. When Meghan spoke about her troubled time within the royal family and the racial minefields she walked through, I didn’t find it hard to relate – as I’m sure was the case with many others. But she was shut down, brandished a liar and a drama queen, and effectively forced out of the country by our mainstream press.

Many people of colour in white spaces and those of mixed backgrounds battle every day with the idea that their very existence represents a crossing of boundaries, a disruption of long-held beliefs around kinship and belonging. Your experiences and your skin shade can also be called into question by those with whom you share loving and intimate experiences.

Instead of pretending these instances don’t happen in modern Britain and in our families, we need to let those affected speak up when they do – to avoid repeating the same old mistakes.

Georgina Lawton is the author of Raceless: In Search of Family, Identity, and the Truth About Where I Belong

[watching-pictures-move]

Movie Review | The Curse of Frankenstein (Fisher, 1957)

This review contains spoilers.

So apparently I watched this a couple of years back alongside a bunch of other Hammer Frankenstein movies and didn’t like it very much for reasons that I couldn’t recall (and didn’t note down in a review at the time), so this is going to be one of those reviews where I revisit a movie and try to make sense of my past opinion and figure out how much of my inferred prior reasoning holds with my current review. There are two outcomes possible here. One, I was right originally and I still don’t like the movie. Or two, I’m right now because I like the movie and will forgive myself for my past opinion. They say you win one hundred percent of arguments against yourself in the shower, the same holds here.

Anyway, I liked it more this time around but what I suspect was one of my original reasons, that the pacing wasn’t the tightest, likely holds. While this runs less than ninety minutes, it doesn’t actually rush to get to the monster by any means, and compared to The Horror of Dracula, which I’d seen before and is certainly swiftly paced, this feels comparatively… deliberate would be the kind word, sluggish would be the less charitable. Anyway, at less than an hour and a half, I didn’t find it a challenge to get through this time around.

I will say that I’ve liked but not loved most of what I’ve seen from Hammer and Terence Fisher, as the things I’ve liked about them have always felt like 75% of something I’ve found done better elsewhere. Certainly the movies carry a good deal of style, but it feels neither as rich as the foggy expressionist touches in the Universal movies or as vibrant and decadent as what Mario Bava and the Italians would do in a few years. I did find it interesting how much of the visual style here consists of tableaux that camera pans across, letting us soak in the production design, and I think Fisher genuinely loves the laboratory sets with the strange, complex shapes of the vials and jars and beakers and the intoxicating, sinister colours of the chemicals contained within. The big shock moments, like the monster’s reveal, or a closeup of a bleeding facial wound, are played for maximum impact, with the camera zooming in nice and close. It’s helpful to remember that these were the frontiers of graphic violence before the splatter film proper came into prominence, and you can see how Herschell Gordon Lewis takes a similar tableaux-esque approach while significantly upping the gore factor in Blood Feast.

And it’s perhaps unfair to compare them, but I think Boris Karloff’s take on Frankenstein’s monster is so iconic that I find it hard not to compare other onscreen versions against it. Karloff imbues the monster with a certain humanity which I think is lacking in Christopher Lee’s take. There are moments of pathos, like when the monster stumbles around after a lobotomy like a wounded animal, but his monster is largely mindless, existing less as a character than a prop for Frankenstein himself. (I will say that scene got an unintended laugh out of me. Frankenstein declares "I've started on brain surgery", and then we cut to the monster looking like he had his hair done by Mr. Bean of London.) But Peter Cushing’s portrayal of Frankenstein is where the movie distinguishes itself, depicting him as unambiguously evil, not just breaching ethics in the pursuit of science, but flat out murdering his mentor (who moments ago warned him about the dangers of going too far, which he apparently takes as a challenge), siccing the monster on his mistress when she reveals she’s pregnant and later threatening to have his fiancée killed. This probably plays even better the more familiar you are with Cushing, as you can better appreciate the subtle way he imbues menace into every reassurance. I will say that these things probably make this a less complex emotional experience than the James Whale Frankenstein movies, but there’s enough room for different approaches.

And one last reason I liked this more this time around is the presence of Hazel Court, who I’ve grown to appreciate as a welcome addition to any movie she’s in. Having seen her play gleefully evil in her Roger Corman Edgar Allan Poe movies, it was nice to see her play an outright sympathetic character, and she’s certainly good at it, despite wearing a number of extremely cozy outfits that look like they were made from blankets, on top of the usual bosomy dresses. I gotta say though, the scene where Frankenstein’s friend Robert Urquhart tries to get her to leave is so funny. Urquhart is doing a terrible job of convincing her of the danger she’s in, telling her that she has to leave, but he can’t say why, but it’s because of the experiments Frankenstein is doing, but he can’t say what they are. Just awful. If I were to intervene, I would have happily violated the Victorian Era equivalent of the bro code and presented her with the whole story, been a much better shoulder for her to cry on, abandoned the experiments and whisked her away to safety. The story would not have been a tragedy had I been in his place.

[lexi-evans]

𝙷𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚝 | 𝙲𝚎𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚌 𝚍𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚡 𝙼𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚍! 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛;𝙵𝚝.𝙳𝚛𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢

Pairing: Cedric diggory x fem! Mermaid reader and Harry x Draco and professor's Remus Lupin x professor Sirius Black!

Didn't really plan on making it this long but—

CEDRIC LIVES! (I CAN'T BELIEVE I WROTE A FIC THIS LONG!! WHAAAT? —also please like and reblog🥺 I worked really hard on this fic) ❤💛💙💚

“But—professor if you already knew about then why call me, now? Why not before?” You asked, patting the fawkes on his head, gently. As it sat on your lap. Professor Dumbledore peered at you with his half moon glasses.

“Because we need you're help—now” You were surprised when he said, why in the world anyone would need you're help? “I'm sorry—professor, I don't quite understand, what you're saying”

Professor McGonagall entered the room and sat by the nearest couch.“No one knows the black lake better than you do, Y/N. That's why we need you're help” Professor McGonagall said.

“what is this about professor?” you asked, curiously. None of this make sense at all. “The second task, Y/N. It's in the Blake lake. We're going to take who is more important to our champion's and put them under the Blake lake, with a very powerful incantation. And the champions has to rescue them before 1 hour passes” professor McGonagall explained, you carefully listened to everyword she spoke.

“Wait—what? Er,you mean the task is in the black lake!?” she nodded her head, you shook you're head violently. “No—professor! This is a bad idea! If anything happens—then everything will go wrong, I can't—I'm so sorry, professor”

“Y/N, I believe you made a few friends in the black lake?” you nodded, “only a few—you have no idea what kind creatures lies in those water, professor. You're risking lives!!!” you said, you're patience wearing thin.

“I know—I know, you know the underworld better and this is where we need you're help, alright. You're job is to look after the champions, just making sure they don't get any injured—you're not allowed to help them but only make sure they make it out, alive”

“Make it out, Alive?” you sighed, heavily. You don't want anyone to get hurt, Not Harry, Not cedric, No one! “Alright, I'll do it—it's not like I don't want them to get hurt—I'll do everything in will, to protect them” with a heavy heart you agreed, at least for the sake of Harry.

Ever since his name came out of the goblet, he isn't himself. His boyfriend, Draco is doing his best to cheer him up. You felt the urge to protect the kid, from anything. He, of course is like a little brother to you.

“well, that's settled then” clapped professor Dumbledore. Professor McGonagall stood up from her seat, gesturing you to come along with her. “professor, you do realize what you're doing is not okay, right?” You asked, as both of you exited dumbledore's room.

“I know, Y/N. It's not in my hands to stop, now isn't it?—don't give it a much thought,alright? You'll be fine, don't worry”she said, giving you one last hug before leaving you alone.

Sighing you skipped down the Hallway, when you heard familiar laughs coming from the classroom. You turned around and decided to go in. “No—Sirius! Stop!! I can't brea—Ah, Y/N.” remus said, Sirius stopped tickling him.

“Hi, Y/N.Out for a walk, eh?” Sirius asked, settling down on the chair next to remus. “No, professor—I just talked with professor McGonagall and professor Dumbledore” they looked at each other, before looking at you with a confused face. “About the second task” their faces turned serious when you mentioned the task. You took a seat on one of the benches, Sirius looked at you intently. “Did Harry figured out about the egg, professor?”

“No, Y/N. He still didn't, says it makes a horrible noise whenever he opens it” Remus said. “The Blake lake” you glanced at both of them. “The second task”.sirius looked frightened, scared for his godson. Remus had a horrified look on his face. “That's what they said—I was planning on telling, Harry but since he hasn't figured out about the egg. I'm not going to—”

“It's okay, Y/N. There's nothing we can do, can we?” Said, Sirius. You shook you're head in pity. “what were they even thinking, Remus? They're going to kill these children with these kind of dangerous tasks”

“but—what does have anything to do with you, Y/N”

“You'll see professor, it's not for me to tell you—but you'll see. Please not worry, I'll do everything—anything to protect him. I give you my word” you were not kidding, when you said that. In fact, you meant every word in that.

You stood up, wanting time for you're own thoughts, “I'll take my leave, professor's and please don't tell anyone about this” they nodded slowly. You went outside.

Straight to the Blake lake, you stared at the water, intensely. Slowly loosening the tie around you're neck, you took of you're robes and jumped in the lake. In blink of eye, you're tail appeared with a huge splash, you dove in.

“Moony, I'm so scared—what if? What if something happens to him in the lake? It's too dangerous, Remus”

“I know, Love. But we can't do anything— remember what Y/N said, this has to do something with her. Trust me, she's an amazing witch I've seen—she gave us her word, I can see she meant it” Remus spoke softly, taking in sirius hand slowly rubbing it gently on his tender skin. Placing a soft kiss on his forehead.

“I just hope you're right, moony”

“But—I'm always right!?”

»»——⍟——««

The following week went by, swiftly. You became close with the members. Especially Cedric. At first you just thought he was a show off because of his fanclub but he was genuinely nice.

Fleur... Well, she's great. Such a sweet person. Sometimes you get confused when she speak but she's cool.

Krum.. Well, you only managed to speak with him few times and... Yeah, he's not much of a talker.

Harry, you adore this kid. You knew him since first year, he's you're friend and obviously Draco too. They're such a cute couple, you absolutely love of those kids.

“Hey, Harry! Draco” You sat next to them, Harry smiled at you gracefully. “Hey, Y/N, morning” said, Draco. Despite, the fact that he's a Slytherin. Ever since Harry and him started dating, Draco spent most of the time with you guys.

“so, Harry. Did you figured out about the egg, yet?” He nodded.

“I did, Cedric gave me a clue though —wouldn't have done it without him” Harry spoke quietly. You remembered the night, the little adventure you guys did, or so it seemed like, in the prefects bathroom.

“Come on, Ced!” You giggled, dragging cedric with you towards the prefects bathroom. You're footsteps echoed through the wide hall. “Y/N!! Slow down!” He laughed at you're excitement. “Oh, My snail walks faster than you” the moon was shining, bright. You felt wide awake just as the moon itself.

You said as you both came across the statue of Boris the Bewildered. You stood by the door and whispered the password “pine fresh”

The door creak sound echoed, meaning the door opened. Pushing the door, you ushered cedric to move along.

It was softly lit by a splendid candle-filled chandelier, and everything was made of white marble, including what looked like an empty, rectangular swimming pool sunk into the middle of the floor.

About a hundred golden taps stood all around the pool’s edges, each with a differ- ently colored jewel set into its handle. There was also a diving board. Long white linen curtains hung at the windows.

A large pile of fluffy white towels sat in a corner, and there was a single golden framed painting on the wall. It featured a blonde mermaid who was fast asleep on a rock, her long hair over her face. It fluttered every time she snored.

“Y/N, what are we doing here? I'm a prefect, myself. You know I can report you, right?” he said, teasingly. You rolled you're eyes, playfully. “Not if I told you, I know how to figure out the egg, right? ” his eyes widened.

“go ahead, ced—report me” you grinned, devilishly. “no, you don't!” you looked at him, dead in the eye and said “Try me” before walking towards the pool and slowly took off the shirt, exposing the skin underneath.

“Y/N—you do realize I'm right here, right?” Cedric blushing madly. You stood there, in your bra and shorts on. Giving him a 'really?' Look. “I'm aware” you said, bending slightly pulling your shorts down slowly.

Cedric stood there awkwardly, looking at everywhere but you. You turned around placing your hands on you're hips. “You're not really planning on taking a bath with clothes on or, Are you?”

He shook his head, with his cheeks dusted with crimson colour. Without any further a do, you jumped into then pool and splashed water on him. “Hey!” He scowled lightly. “hEy” you said in mocking tone.

“Haha—very funny, Y/N” he said, you're getting impatient “don't just stand there,you daft–bimbo! Get in” he rolled his eyes before started taking of clothes his own. You swam around, making sure you didn't make such a mess.

You're hair slowly, turning into (F/C) color. As you're tail slowly, came into the view, “if you do—Y/N!! You—what?” you giggled softly, turning around to face him. You're skin,looked little paler than before.

You batted you're eyelashes playfully at him, looking at his shocked face with you're (F/C) eyes. “Like what you see, cedric?” you said, teasingly smiling at him sheepishly. The whole school is going to see you in you're mermaid form when the task day comes.

His gaze still lingered on you're lower body. You stretched out your hand, asking him to take it. When he touched it, you pulled him into the water. Laughing hysterically. “Gotcha”

He got up, and glared at you. Whistle you were still laughing at his face. “You better stop laughing, L/N” he said, watching you laugh at him. “Or what you gonna do?” you asked moving a little bit closer than you guys were already there.

“You might not it, L/N” He only called you, L/N when he's being serious. You, however find it very hot. He was only a few inches away from you. His few drops were dripping from his hair, “Oh, I think I might”

His eyes flickered down to you're lips and then your eyes. with any warning, he smashed his lips against yours, you immediately kissed him back, wrapping you're arms around his neck, smiling into the kiss.

You are absolutely smitten for this boy, it's been only few days but you felt like you know him from years. You're relationship with him.. Is magical.

“didn't think that would happen” He spoke breaking the kiss, as both of you ran out if breath. “did you?” you grinned, kissing him,again. After you're make out session.

“you were born with this?” He asked, you nodded shrugging. “A half—mermaid” You laughed a little playing with the bubbles. “I was born this way, I can change my appearance, at will”

“Kind of, messed up, isn't it?” You asked, blowing the bubbles. He shook his head, “I think you're pretty amazing and you're beautiful no matter what you are—human or—mermaid”

You faced him “Really?” Looked at him shocked. All you're life, you thought you were just—

“yes, you shouldn't talk about yourself like that Y/N—” He wrapped his arm around your shoulders, you rested on him. “It isn't always our choices, for everything we got. I love you and you also should love yourself” he placed a kiss on your temples.

You never felt so safe and this secured before. Does he truly care about you?

“So, how does this work?” He asked, holding the egg in his hands. “put it under the water” He did what you said, luckily this time it didn't scream. “Now wh—” you pushed his head under the water, along with you.

“Come seek us where our voices sound,

We cannot sing above the ground,

And while you’re searching ponder this:

We’ve taken what you’ll sorely miss,

An hour long you’ll have to look,

And to recover what we took,

But past an hour — the prospect’s black,

Too late, it’s gone, it won’t come back.”

You laughed as cedric took deep breaths. Then he turned to you “what does that supposed to mean?”

“Am I going crazy or —is Diggory seriously staring at our Y/N?” Draco asked, narrowing his eyes over the Hufflepuff.

Hermione who also noticed the famous Hufflepuff staring at you, laughed. Ron just rolled his eyes, went back to eating his food. You were too busy talking with Harry, you didn't notice.

Draco knows what you guys were talking about so he didn't bother asking, he trusts you. Were like his big sister, for both of them. These two were also very overprotective for you. Says they don't want to get you, heartbroken.

“Y/N!! I keep telling Draco—I don't dance and he says He'll teach me!” said, Harry Irritatedly. You laughed. “I will teach you!!!”

“No!!!” Harry dramatically whines. You glanced at hermione who's biting her lip to control her laughter, once you're eyes met both of you burst into laughter. “come on, Harry—I mean how bad could you be at dancing,hm?”

“You have no idea, Y/N. Last night , we practiced the dance together because he wants to impress our little ferret here. In conclusion, he suck at dancing” Ron exclaimed, following with a heavy sigh.

Draco pouted looking at Harry, omg he's so cute. “For me? Pretty please?”

“Stop! No not those eyes—draco!! Fine” Harry reluctantly, agreed. Who can say no this little cutie here, eh? The lot of you, continued eating, talking and lots of giggles from you, Hermione and Draco, though.

“Okay, alright—Let's talk about Y/N, here” Draco hushed them all, you laughed a little“what about me, dray?” you asked, confused. “Any reason, why diggory can't take his eyes of you?”

“what are you talking about, Draco—I don't, I don't understand?” you said, dryly.

“professor—you don't understand! If cedric really cares about me, then—I—how am I supposed watch over the others?” You panicked, looking at professor McGonagall. “I shall talk to professor Dumbledore about this situation, Y/N—don't worry”

“what about cho? She's close to him. She's his best friend!”

»»——⍟——««

The yule ball came, quickly. Cedric asked you to the ball which you gladly said yes, for. The night took it's toll. Professor McGonagall and professor sprout were standing behind you as you stood in front of the mirror. Looking at you're reflection.

“professor i—don't think I can do this!” you said, nervously. “Nonsense dear, you look amazing” professor sprout said, professor Lupin came into the room. “Professor McGonagall they—need you in the great hall”

Professor McGonagall nodded before leaving, you were standing in her room for Merlin's sake.she always looked after, as if you're her own but you never understood why? Nevertheless you were glad to have her. You were grown, alone. Having her always made you feel,happier. Professor sirius I mean black—peeked into the room. “Oh my—Y/N you look splendid!”

“Really?”

“Yes, Y/N—”

“professor McGonagall chose this dress, for me”

“Minnie, did a great job then!” Remus smacked sirius head, you giggled at you're professor's. You were always close to almost every teacher, except snape. You never understood why he's always so cold?

“The real talk is about you professor's!” you said, grinning. “You two look wonderful, rather very charming” You said, teasingly. Remus let out a laugh. Sirius flipped his hair “You can say it, Y/N—you're astronomy teacher looks better than DADA teacher”

“Enough! With the chitchat! Time for the ball, Let's go” said, professor sprout. “chop chop” The entrance hall was packed with students too, all milling around waiting for eight o’clock, when the doors to the Great Hall would be thrown open.

Those people who were meeting partners from different Houses were edging through the crowd trying to find one another. You slowly made you're way towards the stairs. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself.

“well, don't you look—magnificent” you heard a familiar voice behind you, smiling you turned around. “Thank you, Freddie” he smiled along with his twin. “Seriously, Y/N. You look amazing—now I regret not asking you to the ball” said, George.

You giggled, “You alright?” Fred asked you, you looked at him, nodding. “Just..... Nervous” They smiled, softly. “There's no need to be—Diggory's got the most amazing girl” Fred kissed you're forehead.

“come on, we'll escort you to you're date” George offered his hand. You neatly tucked in you're arms linking with both of them, Fred to your right and George to you're left.

At the entrance of the hall, you found cedric standing nervously. Beside of Draco and Harry who couldn't wipe the grins of their faces. You have to admit it—they're such a cute couple.

Harry nudged the older's side, cedric finally lifted his head up. And his eyes met yours. His jaw almost dropped at how beautiful—gorgeous you looked. Harry and Draco smiled greatly at their friend. You we're striking down with the twins elegantly,arms linked with yours. He swore he never seen someone so breath-taking.

Carefully, step by step the twins helped you walk down because it's a little bit hard walking with such a pretty dress and heels. And they led you to Cedric “Hi” You said, anxiously. “Hey... —you look angelic”

“And you better take good care of this Angel, mate” Fred slowly pulled away his arm. Angelina came towards Fred smiling happily. “Don't want any broken bones now, do we?” George winked, as they head off.

“Mischievous one's, aren't they” He laughed, you turned to Harry who was smiling at something Draco said. “Harry!” You hugged him,“Hey Y/N” He hugged you back. “My little prince Charming is looking good in his suite” you ruffled his hair.

“I'm here too, you know” Draco rolled his eyes, it's clear he's jealous. “Aww, c'mere” You hugged him, softly pecked his cheek. “you're so cute, when you're jealous did you know that? No wonder Harry likes you so much” you pinched his cheeks. “Are you boys, ready? I wanna see my favorite couple rocking the floor” you said, feeling more confident than you did before you got here.

Cedric laughed, as if you said something silly. “well we d—” Professor McGonagall’s voice called, “Champions over here, please!” “I'm so not ready—let's do this” said, Draco. You giggled softly.

Professor McGonagall, who was wearing dress robes of red tartan and had arranged a rather ugly wreath of thistles around the brim of her hat, told you guys to wait on one side of the doors while everyone else went inside.

they were to enter the Great Hall in procession when the rest of the students had sat down. The doors were closed. “Ced—Cedric stop! Stop staring at me like that” you said, blushing. He smiled, like he's achieved something great. But he was genuinely liked you for real.

“You look marvelous, did you know that?”

“Oh my god” you covered you're crimson face, with your hands. “do I have to dance?” whined, Harry. Draco rolled his eyes at his boyfriend. “come on, Harry! You'll be fine! Just look at me, only!”

Once everyone else was settled in the Hall, Professor McGonagall told the all of you to get in line in pairs and to follow her. You've done what you've been told and everyone in the Great Hall applauded as all of you entered and started walking up toward a large round table at the top of the Hall, where the judges were sitting.

The walls of the Hall had all been covered in sparkling silver frost, with hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy crossing the starry black ceiling.

The House tables had vanished; instead, there were about a hundred smaller, lantern-lit ones, each seating about a dozen people.

The light music echoed, alarming it's time for dance. Cedric gently placed his hand on your small waist, taking your hand in his. In the corner of your eye, you saw Harry and Draco who were grinning like idiots.

“I like this” you said, staring into his eyes. “I like being with you” you said, making it a little bit clearer. His face soften at you're words. “Thank you”

“For what?”

“For making me feel this way” you said, placing your head on his chest, listening his heart beat as you guys continued dancing slowly. “it's too early, I know—but I love you” said, Cedric as his grip tightened. You lifted you're head looking at him, shooked. More people joined the dance.

“you mean that?” He nodded, “I know it might seem like a joke—but I'm being serious” He said, sincerely. You waited for him to say ‘I'm kidding’ or ‘sike’ but nothing came.

You pulled away you're arms, quickly wrapped them around him, pulling him into a tight hug as if you're life depends on it. “don't leave me”

“I'm not planning on it, darling”

Both of you continued dancing for the next few minutes, till you saw professor Lupin and Professor black sitting on one of the chairs. “I'll be back” you said, hurrying over to the couple.

“Hello, Y/N—having fun?” Remus asked, generously. You nodded “Clearly, you're not! Come on professor” You extended you're hand. “professor black!” you gestured towards the dance floor. Sirius took you're right hand, and stood up.

“Don't be a part pooper,Remus! Get up” said, sirius. You laughed “Don't want to keep you're boyfriend hanging professor, come on—look even Harry's dancing!” Remus finally gave in and stood up.

You led both of them, next to Harry and Draco. “You better not step on my toes, black” threatened, Remus. Sirius chuckled. “Since when did I ever step on you're toes, moony”

Remus rolled his eyes at his boyfriend, playfully. “I see what you did here” Cedric whispered in you're ear, you shrieked. Slapped on his chest, lightly.

“C'mon, Love!” He dragged you away from the couple so they could have some privacy. On you're way you saw Dean and seamus. Dean looked so done with his Boyfriend.

Seamus caught your eye and waved, Dean then followed his eye and quickly waved when he saw you, you waved back smiling. “Having fun?”

“Not much fun but since I'm with him, you know I can say a little bit fun” said, Dean boringly.

You leaned forward and so only they could hear“I overheard professor Dumbledore talking about the weird sister's performance here, now. Get ready, shit's about get wild”

Seamus cheered loudly but dean shushed him off. You winked at them, walked away with Cedric. “we'll sit down for a bit! I know you want to dance for weird sisters music”

You grinned, he's just caring for you. The two of you talked for a while until Dumbledore stood up

and asked the students to do the same. Then, with a wave of his wand, all the tables zoomed back along the walls leaving the floor clear, and then he conjured a raised platform into existence along the right wall. A set of drums, several guitars, a lute, a cello, and some bagpipes were set upon it.

The Weird Sisters now trooped up onto the stage to wildly enthusiastic applause; they were all extremely hairy and dressed in black robes that had been artfully ripped and torn. They picked up their instruments.

“C'mon ced! Let's go!! It's the weird sister's!!” you clearly forgot you're wearing heels and decided it was the great idea to run and almost fell, Cedric was quick enough to catch you just in time. “Easy there, love”

The crowd danced wildly, you laughed loudly as you're hair dances behind you. Dumbledore was waltzing with Madame Maxime.

He was so dwarfed by her that the top of his pointed hat barely tickled her chin; however, she moved very gracefully for a woman so large. Mad-Eye Moody was doing an extremely ungainly two-step with Professor Sinistra, who was nervously avoiding his wooden leg.

“HEY Y/N!!!” Harry yelled, getting a glimpse of you dancing in the crowd with Cedric by you're side. “ALRIGHT THERE, 'ARRY?”

“I THINK DRACO IS GONE MENTAL”

“IT'S JUST THE MUSIC!! LET IT FLOW!!”

The Weird Sisters stopped playing, applause filled the hall once More. And another song, started playing but this time it's faster. You came across Fred and Angelina, who were dancing so exhuberantly that people around them were backing away in fear of injury.

You pulled Cedric by his tie so he can leaned down “like I said Shit's gone wild” You yelled in his ear, causing him to grin. “Of course”

By the time songs ended, you were exhausted. Cedric noticed this and slowly led you out of the crowd so you can have some breath. You're face turned red and sweaty from all the dancing. “well, that was fun” Said, Draco from behind.

You noticed the couple walking towards the chairs beside you. “I wish this night was longer” you breathed, Cedric looked at you confused “why?”

»»——⍟——««

Before you know it, the day finally came. The second task is today. The entrance hall contained a few last-minute stragglers, all Leaving the Great Hall after breakfast and heading through the double oak doors to watch the second task.

All the students made their way to the Blake lake, as awaits the boats to take them to the stands. Almost everyone left, You walked with Harry by your side. “Alright there, Harry?” he nodded. “You?” you shook you're head. Sirius had his arm on Harry's shoulder and Remus was walking along side with him.

“All my life I only hid my secret... Away from this world. And now—I just. Don't know” He nodded understanding. The night on the yule ball day you told Harry and Draco about what's going to happen.

“I hope Draco is alright, can't find mione either” Harry says, disappointed. “They were held as hostages, Harry. Last night I went in there, to look—took permission from professor Dumbledore”You said, kicking the small pebble. Remus and Sirius looked at you with widened eyes.

The four of you reached the dock, Harry, Remus and Sirius got inside. Remus extend his hand for you to take and get in. You shook you're head, while laughing.

“She doesn't need a boat, Remus” said, Harry smiling. You winked at him. “You guys go ahead” They nodded, paddling the boat. You watched them go a little bit furthermore.

Sighing you took off you're clothes and started sprinting down the dock, then jumped into the cold water.

“Miss Y/L/N? Miss Y/L/N? Are you here?” professor Dumbledore called out, no one responded. The students looked quite confused why professor Dumbledore is looking for you. Cedric eyes searched around, but couldn't find you.

Suddenly, you're head popped up from the water. Professor Dumbledore let out a relief sigh. As students gasped. “can't get rid of me that easily, professor” He laughed. To others you looked like a complete different person but with same face.

Lugo bagman stood up pointed his wand at his throat as he had done at the World Cup, said, “Sonorus!” and his voice boomed out across the dark water toward the stands.

“Well, all our champions are ready for the second task, which will start on my whistle. They have precisely an hour to recover what has been taken from them. On the count of three, then. One . . . two . . three!”

The whistle echoed shrilly in the cold, still air; the stands erupted with cheers and applause; without looking to see what the other champions were doing, Harry pulled off his shoes and socks, pulled the handful of gillyweed out of his pocket, stuffed it into his mouth, and waded out into the lake.

You waited patiently for professor dumbledore to give the signal. You were used to this cold temperature but you don't know long they can be in their. “Miss Y/L/N, here is going to look after our beloved champion's since she knows the underworld better and has known for year's—I must warn you, better not make any remarks about Miss Y/L/N or—we'll be have to make sure, none of you does it, again”

“Wicked” said, the twins at the same time. “GO! Y/N!” Cheered Ron, loudly among the students. You waved at him. He grinned

“Miss Y/L/N—it's time”

“wait! —” said professor black. Sirius walked over to the edge of the stand and leaned forward you swam a little bit further so he could speak with you.

“Please, look after my godson Y/N. I'm counting on you” he said desperately. “Please not worry, professor. I'll protect him no matter what—I promise”

You turned around and dove in, making you're tail splash huge mount of water.

You swam as fast as you could—there's no sign of anyone. You came across forests of rippling, tangled black weed, wide plains of mud littered with dull, glimmering stones.

You swam deeper, hoping you could find any of the champions. Then you caught a glimpse of Harry, He got his wand out of pocket and used a spell on the grindylow.

You sighed in relief but immediately panicked when you saw more grindylow's surrounding Harry. You swam, faster and then you hit few of them with you're tail. Then used you're hands to make bubble boost making knocking them unconscious.

“Harry!” you hugged him, “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” you're eyes scanned him for injuries. He has few scratches on his legs, “Y/N! Please I'm fine” He said, swimming away. You watched him leave, well at least he must've known what he's doing.

You turned around and swam further searching for other champions, your hair flowing behind you. The deeper you went the more eerily the surroundings got. Some things wrong, you can feel it.

You were about to turn around until you heard something coming from the deep, dark green weeds. You know it's dangerous, even for you. But you went in. What if someone got stuck?

You're eyes widened, it's fleur she's got struck in between the weeds and few grindylow's were attacking her. You kicked away few of them but many more are coming. You have to get her out of here. You used bubble blast, again but there's too many of them.

You managed to get them off Fleur, she's crying in pain you can tell. The problem in being water is—no one can understand you're pain, you can't feel the tears. You made a huge wave, and sending it straight towards them.

Knocking them off, “Fleur? Fleur!” you called out but she doesn't seem alright. You held her tightly and swam towards the stands very fastly. It hurts a little bit, putting too much pressure but you didn't care.

All you cared is about saving her. The crowd waited anxiously for someone to arrive, You're head hit the surface.You swam toward the deck “Professor!!!” you called out for help. Professor McGonagall who is closer to the deck, came in to give a hand. Madam maxime gasped “Fleur!” she looked horrified.

“She's unconscious! Help her—I have to go back” You quickly spoke to Professor Dumbledore, beside stood professor Lupin and professor black worriedly.

You know the exact location where the hostages were held, you're sure the champions must've found them by now.

When you got there, Harry was surrounded by the merpeople, a spike was held near neck as he was floating near Hermione. You angrily swam, towards them. “Get back!!!”

Of course they know you, you came in here more than twice, every week. You went in front of Harry, protectively helding him back.

“You take your own hostage,” one of them said to him. “Leave the others . . .”

“No way!” said Harry furiously — but only two large bubbles came out.

“Your task is to retrieve your own friend . . . leave the others . . .”

Harry shook his head, furiously. “Harry! Take Draco and leave—she's krums hostage” you said, calmly. “please”

He sighed in defeat. You turned around when you saw Cedric swimming towards you. He pointed towards the watch, the time is almost finished. He cut cho free.

“Is krum coming?” you asked, he nodded. “Go” He swam away, with cho in his arms. Even though you know she's his friend you can't help but feel jealous a little bit but you trust him.

a human body in swimming trunks with the head of a shark. . . . It was Krum. He appeared to have transfigured himself — but badly.

The shark-man swam straight to Hermione and began snapping and biting at her ropes; the trouble was that Krum’s new teeth were positioned very awkwardly for biting anything smaller than a dolphin, and Harry was quite sure that if Krum wasn’t careful, he was going to rip Hermione in half.

Darting forward, Harry hit Krum hard on the shoulder and held up the jagged stone. Krum seized it and began to cut Hermione free. Within seconds, he had done it; he grabbed Hermione around the waist, and without a backward glance, began to rise rapidly with her toward the surface.

You smiled proudly at Harry's actions. He could've just taken Draco and leave but he wanted to make sure his friends were alright.

He turned to you. “Fleur didn't make it, Harry” you said, worriedly. Her sister... If Fleur didn't rescue her and then—she's gone?

His eyes widened, Harry tried to speak but only bubbles came out his mouth. “if we don't rescue her now and then she's lost to us”

He looked around, the merpeople isn't anywhere near you two. “I'll take care of them, you go” he nodded in agreement. Harry darted forward and began to hack at the ropes binding the small girl to the statue, and at last she was free.

He seized the little girl around the waist, grabbed the neck of draco's robes, and kicked off from the bottom.

You were too busy, dealing with the merpeople you didn't notice some of them slipping past and went towards Harry. “Argh!” you winced when the spear peered you're skin on lightly.

Over the surface;on the stands Cedric was facing back and forth. The time is almost over and Both Harry and you didn't return. He knows something gone wrong. “I'm going in” said, Cedric removing the towel that was wrapped around his muscled body.

“Mr.Diggory—it's against the rules, you're not allowed to go in” Cedric let out a frustrated growl.

No matter how many you fought, it seems they keep coming. Finally, you looked at Harry. His flippers were gone, he was struggling to swim with Draco and Fleur's sister.

Harry no longer can breathe oxygen, with all the strength left he pushed Draco and Fleur's sister towards the surface. The merpeople surrounded him. “Harry!!” You kicked away, the merman and swam towards him quickly. You glanced at the surface, Draco and Fleur's sister are safe. Draco helped Gabrielle swim towards the stands.

You caught him, but suddenly, a grindylow came out of nowhere and gripped on you're tail. You yelped. Using the strength left in you're hands, you blasted away the grindylow. You guys were few feet away from the surface.

You pushed Harry towards the surface and then sent a wave with you're tail causing him to break into the surface. You felt enormously relieved.

Harry breathed heavily as he reached the surface. He swam towards the stands. And was immediately wrapped up in towel. “Oh, Harry! Finally!” Draco kissed his head, hugging him tightly.

Cedric made his way to Harry. “Ha—Harry where's Y/N?” He asked, worriedly. “she's—still inside, i—” He was cut off when Sirius walked over and hugged him tightly. “she saved me” he finished taking in deep breathes. Everyone looked at the water worriedly.

You got away and popped up into the surface, right in front of the docks. Professor Lupin helped you get up on the stands, you were still in you're mermaid form. You breathed heavily, you laid on the deck. Cedric walked over to you, taking you in his arms protectively. He wrapped his towel around you.

You're eyes shot up, “Harry!” you searched around, he over to you with Draco by his side. “I'm here, Y/N” He smiled, “thank god” you breathed out. “No, thanks to you” said, Draco gracefully.

You laughed, leaning back onto Cedric's chest. He placed a kiss on your temple. “You got me so worried, Y/N” you smiled. “I couldn't be more thankful to you Y/N, for what you did! I owe you” Draco hugged you.

You stretched out you're left arm, motioning Harry to hug you. He smiled, and joined you three. “Thank you, Y/N” Draco said, again. You just saved his life (his and his life? Harry is his life so his life, I say).

He pecked you're cheek, just like you do for him. You didn't stand up, because of you're tail. And you don't want to shift back because.... You're clothes?

Harry pecked your other cheek, causing you to giggle. The others seemed to be in aww at you're interactions with the boys. Fleur walked over to you guys. “You saved me, thank you, Y/N. Harry thank you for saving my sister even though she's not yours”

“well, I have loads of help” he said turning to you. You giggled hugging him, Draco smiled widely. “And you—you helped her” she said turning to Draco, he might have helped her sister swim “Ah, yes a little bit” she kissed his forehead “thank you” she left went back to her sister.

Draco turned to you guys with a weird expression“didn't expect that”.

“I could never thank you enough for what you did today, Y/N. No matter how many times I say it, it wouldn't be enough” said, Sirius seriously.

“thank you for keeping you're promise, Y/N” said Remus sincerely. Harry looked shocked “You promised them? To keep me, safe?” you nodded. “I didn't save you just because I promised them, Harry. I saved you because you're my friend—a brother—a family—I love all of you” you said looking at Cedric, Harry, Draco, Hermione, and ron who stood by her side then Sirius and Remus. You smiled widely.

“A hug?” you asked, sheepishly knowing you'll be crushed the next second. Every one hugged you. You felt tears glistening in your eyes. You may not have grown up with love and affection in you're life before you got into hogwarts.

But you never felt so loved before. “come on, Y/N. Let's get you dressed” said, Cedric and tried to pick you up, but you slipped out, “Nah-huh I'll meet you at the land” you said, jumping in the water purposely splashing water on everyone.

“Y/N!!!!”

“IT'S SO COLD!! HARRY I'M SO COLD”you heard draco's voice, saying dramatically. “I only think you're hot, draco” “THIS IS NOT TIME FOR FLIRTING!”

»»——⍟——««

Few years later;

“I can't believe this is happening” you said, trying so hard not to cry. It's you're graduation and now you know it's time to say goodbye to the place you called home for years.

“Yeah,I'm gonna miss this place” Said, Cedric looking at the fountain in the courtyard. “I'm gonna miss everyone” you said, as a tear fell from your eyes. “me too—gonna miss the adventures that and competition's which nearly killed us” He wrapped his arm around you.

“Remember how we met? I was assigned to watch over you guys” you said, recalling the memory. “I do”

“and I'll never forget it”

“So, now what do we do?”

“I'll be in training to become an Auror”

“I know” “I love you” “I love you too”

“Y/N!! Y/N!!!” you looked up and saw Harry and Draco running towards you. You smiled at them, over the years they've grown up so much.

You still remember the greesy haired Draco and messy raven Harry like it was yesterday. “Hey boys” you said, blinking off the tears. “we know it's you're last day at hogwarts” said Harry hiding something behind him.

“So—we got you a present” beamed Draco. “Aww, you know you guys don't have to” you smiled at the younger. “don't be so nice, Y/N—you're gonna love it”

He showed you the present—“is that a pygmy puff?” you gasped, “oh my god, it's so cute” you squealed. “yep, got one from the joke shop—Fred and george gave us this for free” said Harry

“when we said it was a gift for you, of course” Draco laughed. You took the small pink fluff ball into you're hands, you almost melted at how soft it was.

You handed the pygmy puff to Cedric, he gently held it in his palms, it looked so small in his hands🥺 You hugged Harry and Draco tightly.

You'll miss these boys, the most. “I'll miss you two, so much” you said, through tears. “us too, Y/N—don't worry! We'll graduate before you know it and then visit you whenever we want” beamed Harry.

You laughed, “Of course! Anytime you want, doesn't matter” Draco bought up his sleeve and wiped off you're tears.

“We'll see you soon, Y/N”

»»——⍟——««

“NO! WE'RE GOING TO MY USE MY LAST NAME!”

“NO!! WE'RE GOING USE MY LAST NAME”

“WHat is going on?” you heard familiar voices, turning around stood there Fred, george and Your husband, Cedric in their suits. You let out a frustrated sigh. “They're arguing over who's last name they're going to use”

“Are you kidding? The wedding's in 5 minutes” said, Cedric checking his watch.

“Now they're arguing??” Asked, Fred who looked so done with the engaged couple.

Hermione groaned loudly, “Come on guys, let's go it's time”

You laughed at them, none of them really changed. Same kids from school, it's a good thing though.

❃.✮:▹ The end ◃:✮.❃

BONUS:

I was watching the IT movie,again the other day. It's horror film written by Stephen King and it couldn't help but— (I saw this one in Pinterest and I don't know what—but)

Anygays, I hope you guys enjoyed this fic and also thank you guys so much for 200+ likes for my “𝚈𝚞𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚙𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚎| 𝙳𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚘 𝙼𝚊𝚕𝚏𝚘𝚢 𝚡 𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛! 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛” Fic and like I promised here, Cedric's fic.

[artificialqueens]

Chase the Shadows Away (Taywhora) - Juno

Summary: It’s April 2020, the UK is in lockdown, and Tayce gets a hand-delivered letter from her neighbour Aurora which may change her life.

A/N: So this is set during lockdown and does mention covid, so please bear this in mind when reading if this will be a worry, but otherwise I hope you enjoy. CWs in place for alcohol, mental health mentions, and non-adherence to lockdown rules at one point. 

Otherwise it’s quite fluffy with some h/c. I hope you enjoy.

The first letter Tayce got was in early April.

She hadn’t had much post since the whole country had been locked down, no one allowed to move outside their front doors for more than once a day for threat of fines and penalties and even getting sick. Most of the letters she was getting this week had been birthday cards for her absent housemate. She’d put the various brightly-coloured cards and Amazon boxes in a pile outside Viv’s bedroom door, and gave the pile the middle finger every time she walked past it.

But today there was a plain, white envelope, with “Hi” written on it in glittery red pen, and when Tayce opened it, she found a piece of notebook paper that had been folded at least four times, and Tayce nearly threw it across the room with the effort it was taking to open.

This had better be worth it.

When she got it unfolded, she read the three lines in the same glitter pen, then again, and once more just in case.

‘Hi, I’m Aurora. I’m on my own in my flat 7D because my housemate moved home because of lockdown, and you seem to be alone too. Want to write to each other? X’

And Tayce couldn’t hold back the rush of emotion, as much as she tried - but she was alone, and she took comfort knowing only these four walls would see tears stream down her face.

——

Tayce was on her own in the flat.

In the day time she opened her work laptop, thanking god she was allowed to work from home; throwing a hoodie over her pyjama top just in time for the 9am meeting where her boss grinned at everyone and told them all to keep swimming and chin up and whatever other self-indulgent bullshit she had read in her How To Motivate Your Teammanual in the chapter about Managing Pandemics. 

Tayce was still surprised at how much bullshit her workmates seemed to swallow; all of them with the same broad smiles and straightened hair and shaved chins and eyeliner, for fuck’s sake - but Tayce copied them, knowing that not painting her own smile and her own eyebrows on was damning herself for the inevitable call and the simpering It’s Good To Talk conversation, followed by u k hun xx to be flashing repeatedly in the work WhatsApp group from all the team.

In the evenings, the only noise was the clink of the glass bottle against the wine glass. One glass was enough to make her a little sleepy, two was enough to make her dance, and three was enough to make her post something cryptic on her insta story and see if anyone DMed her. 

Sometimes they did. 

Joe liked to crack a few morbid jokes about how it was the apocalypse and we were all going to be dead by 2021, which didn’t help Tayce in the slightest. Ginny would message “You alright, bab?” at three in the morning, but never reply to any other message. Tia would send Tayce a picture of the banana bread she’d baked as if that would cheer Tayce up.

And Cherry sent her a message one time, telling her to look after her mental health, and then Tayce felt bad because Cherry worked for the NHS and only seemed to work and sleep right now, her insta photos showing her looking more and more gaunt, with #ClapForHeroes and #ProtectTheNHS appearing at the bottom of all her posts.

Nothing curbed the gaping black hole in Tayce’s chest, sucking everything that was good from her body and leaving her a shell.

Until the letter arrived.

——

Two days after she’d posted her own letter back to 7D, another letter arrived, in the same glittery red pen, this time addressed to her, with Tayce written on the front of the envelope this time.

‘Hi Tayce (sp?) nice to meet you, don’t worry I don’t know what to say either! Where in Wales are you from? I’m from Nottingham but I came to London for uni and didn’t leave! Are you still working rn? I got furloughed which is a bit shit. And my housemate is staying with her boyfriend so she can’t move back. Have you been clapping for the NHS? Someone on my floor was banging a pan or something!! Hope your ok? WB Aurora xx’

“I’m making a new friend,” Tayce had said to her mum on the phone later that night.

“In lockdown?”

“She’s delivering me letters.”

“How?”

“By hand, mum.” Tayce forced a laugh. “You know. Through the letterbox like a normal letter.”

“I hope you’re washing your hands before and after you open them, are you?”

“Yeah, of course,” Tayce grimaced as she said it.

“Good. Stay safe. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

One of these days, Tayce thought as she disconnected the call, she might be able to say it without her voice breaking.

——

By mid-April, a full month since lockdown had started and two weeks after the first letters between them, Aurora had given Tayce her instagram handle, and Tayce had given hers in return. Tayce found herself spending all of her Good Friday skimming down the page on moreauroramore, looking through all of her new pen pal’s photos and trying desperately not to look like an idiot by accidentally double-tapping any that were obviously over a year old.

Tayce had pictured Aurora in her mind as being over-excitable, short, with dark hair and lots of dusty pinks and baby blues and other pastel colours as her aesthetic, maybe with pot plants and cat pictures and cutesy little slogans surrounded by hearts. Instead she’d found a smolderingly attractive woman with a ridiculously versatile and sophisticated sense of fashion; one photo in a rococo-inspired summer dress, and the next in a cerulean blazer, matching trousers, and stilettos. Her hair was platinum-blonde, but it was hard to tell her eye colour as she seemed to own a never-ending plethora of colour contacts; and the eyebrow ring in the early pictures was replaced by a silver septum ring in later ones. 

Her own insta looked quite plain in comparison, Tayce thought to herself. The landscapes she liked to post were interesting to her but probably not to the magnificent person on Aurora’s insta. The last picture Tayce had taken was of herself with her brother and niece in red rugby shirts just before the Six Nations was on; the last selfie before the last time she’d gone home which was … only February, she realised. 

February felt like years ago.

When Tayce had awoken the next morning, she was greeted by the doorbell, and an Amazon driver sprinting away the moment she opened the door. A letter was on the doormat, in the familiar red glittery pen, and a single chocolate Easter egg. 

‘Happy Easter Tayce. Don’t know if you celebrate but lol thought you would like some chocolate anyway! Don’t eat it all at once. Aurora xx’

It made Tayce’s gut wrench with guilt that she hadn’t thought to get Aurora one.

But it made Tayce even more pained, once she had clicked onto her instagram, to see that moreauroramore had liked all thirteen of the pictures she’d posted this year.

——

The zoom call at the end of April with the others from her uni group, saw not just Cherry missing, but also Ellie and Veronica.

“Ellie’s moving this week,” Lawrence nodded at the screen, “but that was all she’d tell me. She didn’t say where. Or if she’s staying in Dundee or anything. I just know she’s still trying to get her internet set up and I think she’s a bit stuck.”

“What about Vee?” Ginny asked in a low voice.

They all recognised the somber tone. They’d all taken it up. A change in their voices that all of them recognised in a kind of collective telepathic awareness. A hush in the calls, as if someone were dying, or had just died. Whenever anyone was missing, it was always the same worry circling all of their minds: what if it’s covid what if it’s covid what if it’s -

Tia was shaking her head. “It’s not covid,” she said, reading the minds of everyone through the internet, but her voice was still solemn as she continued. “I spoke to her mum. She’s -“

“Say depressed, Tia, it’s fine.” Bimini spoke gently, but not all of them were as open as Bimini was. Especially when it came to Veronica, who was a brick wall when it came to showing what she was feeling.

“She’s - not in a good place.”

“Say mental health,” Bimini said, shaking their head. “It’s okay to not be okay.”

“I don’t think that’s gonna make her feel any better, Bim.” Tia rolled her eyes. 

“We’re all feeling this,” Pip nodded. “We all need to talk to each other.”

“Veronica won’t. Not yet. We just need to be there for her when she does. Anyway, who’s done anything interesting? Anyone else been trying banana bread? Everyone managed to find bogroll from somewhere now? No one is having the same problem that Joe had when she -“

“I don’t think we need to go any further with that one, love,” Joe muttered.

“I’ve made a pen friend.”

Everyone sat in stunned silence at Tayce’s sentence, mouths open like fish at feeding time.

“A pen friend? What is this, 1986?”

“Shut up, Ginny. I think that’s kind of cute, actually,” Tia mused, tilting her head to one side. 

Tayce nodded. “Something a bit different. She lives in my block of flats. Two floors up from me. Been nice, to talk to someone, ever since Viv buggered off to her boyfriend’s house. Seriously, as soon as Boris announced lockdown she was jumping in her car and off to Liverpool.”

“You said she was a bit flaky,” Tia said sympathetically. “What’s your new pen pal’s name?”

“Aurora.”

“A-what?” Ginny raised their eyebrows. “Can we just call her Rory?”

“No.”

“We should get her on a call with us when Veronica’s back. Ronni and Rory, sounds like Ant and Dec will have some stiff competition when they get wind of that.”

“Ginny -“ Tia began, but Tayce was trying to hold back a chuckle. 

——

‘Someone is talking about a street party on the 8th of May. Are you gonna go? I was gonna stay indoors but if you’re gonna go outside i will too xx’

Tayce knew she shouldn’t be thinking of meeting strangers outside her flat while the pandemic was ongoing, but she hadn’t seen a familiar human since March other than on a zoom call screen. 

‘Hi Aurora, yeah i will go outside for a little bit. Look forward to meeting you properly instead of over letters! Tayce’

And Tayce finally stopped hesitating, adding two kisses on the end for the first time.

The weather was meant to be lush for a May bank holiday, as Tayce knew because her colleagues wouldn’t shut up about it. Almost eight weeks of lockdown were beginning to show the cracks in all their faces - no more eyeliner, and even Linda in Accounts had stopped posting boomerang videos of her kids doing Joe Wicks workouts while she waved her arms behind them. 

So Tayce was over the moon when Friday rolled around and she could slam the Dismiss button on her phone alarm, turn over and sleep in until noon. Once she woke up though, she sat up with a jolt in her bed and realised she’d have to get ready; somehow it was important that she looked right today. 

It was a power play, she knew it. An armour. But there was just something about clothes that made her mood turn in an instant. Her favourite leather jacket was probably a bit too heavy for the warm sunshine - warm sunshine? In May? - so she opted for the black denim instead and a skirt that hugged her slender figure, leaving her hair loose and wishing she’d gone for a trim before the lockdown. Maybe she should take her scissors to it? 

She held the only scissors she had to hand - a pair of craft scissors - and wondered what her hairdresser mum would say if she knew that her daughter had taken non-styling scissors to the 30-inches of hair that she had. 

No - better not. Her mum could give her a go over once the lockdown period had ended.

Someone was playing tunes on a speaker already when Tayce came down the stairs, dragging the garden chair Viv had left behind and brushing the digestive crumbs off it. One of the neighbours she recognised from her floor handed her an ice-cold can of Fosters which she sipped, not really enjoying the taste but relishing the freedom of it all. She knew to keep two metres from everyone, and she knew Cherry would absolutely murder her if she disobeyed that rule.

As soon as Aurora came into view from the block of flats, Tayce knew that keeping to the two metre rule would prove a little harder than she had first thought.

Aurora’s insta pictures showed a fashion model trapped in a little box on a screen, striving to get out - but in the flesh, she looked as if she had just rolled out of the living room after a Tiger King marathon. The grey jogging bottoms paired with the crop top and zip-up hoodie were probably too warm for today - 23 degrees, the radio kept repeating - but she made them look so effortless and stylish that Tayce suddenly wanted to buy some. Her platinum hair was piled in a messy bun, dark brown roots showing but the lackadaisical nature made it seem like Aurora meant it that way.

On her insta page, Aurora was way out of Tayce’s league; but here in life, she seemed a lot more accessible, a lot calmer, a lot more real. 

Maybe it’s armour for her too. All this perfection in the photos. God. Why did I wear this?

She dropped her own deck chair down a reasonable distance from Tayce, taking another can of Fosters from the same neighbour and cracking it open. She took a swig, wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, and waved.

“Hi, Tayce. Here we are, then!”

“Yeah,” was the only thing Tayce could think of in response. Really cool. Very clever.

But Aurora was talking animatedly about how much she’d missed the sun, as she pulled a pair of sunglasses from her pocket and leaned back against the deck chair, claiming “Tesco are having them on sale - two for £12, so I got two - what else am I gonna do on furlough other than sunbathe!”

And the more the Fosters flowed - their neighbour’s 24-pack almost completely gone before 5pm, he seemingly wanting to give a can to the whole block - the more Aurora opened up her life history to Tayce. 

How much she wished she was still in Worksop and could go on the long walks into the forest. How she’d give anything to hug her mum, a care-worker, and how she FaceTimed her shielding grandad every Sunday at 6.30 just after he finished his tea. 

But most of all, how lonely it was every single night being alone in a flat in a huge city. Aurora dabbed her watery eyes with her thumbs as she described how much she loved everything that London had to offer when it was full of people, not dead to the world like it was now - and in this hollow place that lockdown was, she’d discovered that a city - any city, however exciting - was just a built-up area if you had no one to share it with. 

Tayce hadn’t expected to cry. She’d cried maybe once or twice this whole time in lockdown, still too numb to have taken everything in that was happening. But the moment she’d opened her mouth, suddenly the Fosters had started talking for her too, and she was spilling out her worries onto the pavement below them as Aurora rubbed her back. 

How her mum was furloughed from the hairdresser and her dad was always out in the lorry up and down the country. Her brother and sister-in-law, and her niece, were all still fine in Newport, but Tayce had missed her niece’s birthday, having to settle for blowing her a kiss down FaceTime and promising her through gritted teeth and cold fear that she’d give her the biggest cwtch ever as soon as this was over.

But now Tayce was in tears again, this time on Aurora’s shoulder, releasing her sorrows onto this woman who she had only exchanged written words with; now seeing her true soul laid bare in emotions that just refused to stop once she started. Aurora’s gentle hands ghosted through her hair, but then gripped Tayce tightly to her chest, planting a long, tender kiss on her hairline. 

How had this happened? How had social distancing become this? Two people, thinking they were islands, clinging to one another for dear life?

Tayce held her for too long.

Aurora’s hands froze as she realised what she had done at the same moment Tayce had.

Cherry is gonna kill me.

Aurora walked with Tayce back to her flat as the sun was setting. It was nine in the evening, the heat finally starting to break, and both of them were aching and tired, spent from their tears. Aurora gave Tayce’s hand a gentle squeeze but said nothing else, her eyes red underneath her sunglasses, and Tayce had felt herself harden once again, turning the key in the door and closing the outside world back to where it should be.

——

After two weeks had passed, both of them not developing any symptoms after their contact, Tayce had an idea. 

She put the letter through the letterbox in 7D at midday when she broke for lunch, and had a reply by half past one, a new record for Aurora.

‘Tayce, I’d love to form a support bubble with you. I thought you would have one already thats why i didn’t ask! Want to put on a film tonight and just chill? Bubble bud? Aurora xx’

So Tayce saw inside Aurora’s flat for the first time that same evening. After work, she practically sprinted up the stairs, thankful to get away from more of u k hun xx and her still-simpering colleagues.

It was very clean, as if it had only just been cleaned that day - freshly-washed surfaces, hoovered carpets, a sparkling bathroom - and Tayce marvelled at how tidy and orderly things were, a stark contrast from her own living space which had evolved into a nest of mess by now. Aurora’s living room and kitchen space were one area, with a mismatched sofa and chair facing the tv screen, hooking up a PS4 - Tayce hadn’t counted Aurora as a Dishonoured player either. The wall opposite the window was filled with small pictures of past fashion models - Kate Moss, Agyness Deyn, Cara Delevigne - all with matte black frames which had obviously been painted in lockdown, as one was on the coffee table drying over a copy of Hello magazine.

“My housemate’s not coming back, I can see it happening now,” Aurora shrugged, “so why not make the house the way I like it while I look for someone else to live with?”

Aurora poured Tayce a huge glass of wine, and that was followed by another; while she topped up her own glass liberally and kept shifting on the sofa as if trying to get comfortable. Tayce, for her part, took the chair instead, while Aurora tapped on the PlayStation controller to try to get Netflix up. The more she drank, the more cumbersome the controller seemed to become in her hands, until Tayce leaned over and took it away from her, Aurora’s fingers lingering a little too long on it before relinquishing.

When Aurora got up, meaning to pour them both a fourth glass of wine, she slipped on something and tumbled into Tayce’s lap in the chair, tittering something that sounded like “god I’m clumsy” through the giggles that came from her, unable to stop. Tayce slapped her on the back as she started coughing, but as that died down, Aurora straightened up, picking up Tayce’s hand in hers and drawing her up and away to join her on the sofa.

Lockdown had been so fucking lonely.

Aurora’s hand in hers was all Tayce needed to dissolve every wall she was still rebuilding from May Bank Holiday.

Aurora’s eyes were on her, she knew; through her peripheral vision as she tried desperately to cling to her focus on whatever episode of Tiger King this was.

When Tayce finally met her gaze, she averted it, turning her face to the window opposite them. Almost … playfully.

So Tayce looked back at the TV screen, but Aurora’s hand squeezed at hers, thumb in her palm pressing right in the centre, the pressure somehow travelling all the way to her gut. Tayce turned back to her, and this time Aurora did not look away.

“God, you’re gorgeous.”

Aurora looked at her through her eyelashes, lips parted in a smirk, curiously searching Tayce with her gaze as if wondering what her next move would be.

Tayce blinked incredulously. “Me? Like this? What do you mean, I’m gorgeous? Have you seen yourself?”

“And that accent, oh my days -“

“Go to Newport, we all sound like this.”

But the wine was hitting hard now and oh god lockdown is so fucking lonely and Tayce’s feet on the floor suddenly felt unsteady and Aurora was so fucking close to her on the sofa -

——

Once the hangover was gone, the memory of rest of the night felt like a dream, or maybe a nightmare. Tayce wasn’t entirely sure when she’d gone back to her flat, but she had, long before night had fully fallen and long after she was sure the burgeoning friendship she was finally making with someone lay in tatters two floors up from her.

The wine had washed away the strength she’d had, leaving her raw and vulnerable, and all the affection that had been growing since Aurora had first held her bubbled and burst into life. And Aurora must have felt the same magnetic pull, drawing them together across the sofa, nail marks still present in Tayce’s back that she could see in the mirror, a bruise forming on Tayce’s collarbone as Aurora had dipped a little lower. 

It had been Tayce who had halted it - not because she hadn’t wanted to, but because she couldn’t decipher how much of this was affection and how much of this was just two lonely people, starved of company, starved of normality, seeking and clinging to it in any form.

And now it was the following day, and Tayce still didn’t know.

The group call at the end of the day was interesting. She stretched over the back of the sofa in her living room to grab her water, and that must have been enough to flash a sliver of skin. 

“What’s that?” Lawrence asked loudly, prompting everyone else to go quiet. “Tayce? What’s that on your chest, hmm?”

“I didn’t see anything.”

“You’re not wearing your glasses, Ginny, you can’t see shit. What’s that on your chest? Why d’you have a bruise there?”

“Hi!” Ellie’s voice as she joined the call unexpectedly saved Tayce any further embarrassment; everyone shrieked when she came on, having missed the last two zoom calls following her move. “Thank God my internet is working now, I’ve missed all your faces!”

Tayce silently thanked Ellie’s timing and contentedly listened to the rest of them as they chatted about everything and nothing that they’d all missed. All of them were there; even Cherry showed up about twenty minutes in to wave at them and blow them kisses, her face even more pallid than before; before ducking back out to go to bed. 

Only Veronica was still missing.

“She’s been messaging me,” Tia explained, “and she said she’s feeling a bit better, but since she got furloughed, she’s feeling like there’s no point getting out of bed or getting ready because there’s nowhere to go.”

“Send her some love,” Tayce said, but Tia snorted.

“You send her it! She’s gonna feel better if she knows we all miss her.”

It was true though, Tayce realised after they all disconnected. They all seemed to be drifting apart, no more energy to continue with these online gatherings, even though there were so many virtual meetup groups and apps that there almost seemed to be no excuse now.

She looked back through her phone messages. She hadn’t messaged Veronica since early April, taking her silence as a sign that she wanted to be left alone; but what if it wasn’t? Veronica was a closed fist, everyone knew that. And Tayce’s brother? Again, early April, and a quick call the week after for her niece’s birthday. 

Lockdown, and self-isolation, seemed to be one and the same. 

So Tayce spent the rest of the afternoon sending messages to everyone she had neglected since then. Maybe they would reply, and maybe they wouldn’t - but there was no harm in reaching out, no negative consequences. 

By the end of the day, she was fielding messages back and forth from everyone she thought she’d lost through lockdown, the grey cloud over her head starting to lift, the fuzzy feeling disappearing and clarity settling in. She felt light, lighter than she had in weeks; and warm as the summery days they were getting in this late-May spring.

Towards the end of the day, she got a message back from Veronica at last.

Veronica: I’m doing ok. I got up and went for a walk today just to the park and back. It’s really nice although my hay fever sucks. Thanks for checking in on me i appreciate it x  Veronica: Oh also Tia said you had a hickey on the group call haha tell me what her name is x

Tayce was surprised to realise she was grinning at the phone as she read Veronica’s message, her fingers stroking the mark on her collarbone as if to savour the vivid image that it sparked in her head.

——

It was three days after their drunken kiss on the sofa that Tayce had another letter through the door. The same red glittery pen, the same scrawl, but the writing a little smaller as if Aurora wanted to diminish herself.

‘Hi Tayce. I’m really sorry if i came on too strong this week. Can we go back to friends? Want to hang out tonight, bubble bud? Aurora xx’

Tayce swallowed down the part of her that immediately rose up and cried that she … didn’t want to just be friends. 

Then it hit her.

God. I only met this girl properly this month. What’s wrong with me?

But she replied and immediately started clearing the house. 

She put the pile of Viv’s birthday cards and presents from the hallway floor into a cupboard under the sink, giving it the middle finger again; put the six-weeks worth of laundry on to wash; cleaned all the dishes; and dragged the hoover out of the tiny airing cupboard and got to work on the carpets. The hard floors she swept, and carried the bin bags out to the communal bins, all before midday.

“Who needs Joe Wicks workouts?” She muttered to herself, panting, as she tugged some marigolds over her hands to sort out the rest of the kitchen. 

By the time it was six, and time for Aurora to arrive, Tayce thought the house looked much better, and honestly, she felt much better too. The little spring clean she’d given the place had cleared a little clutter from her head as well. 

It’s nothing to worry about. She’d just coming over for food and -

Tayce grimaced as she realised she hadn’t thought of what to do for food. She thought back to the beans on toast she’d had at four and kicked herself for not thinking of that. Dominos was still delivering, so she brought up the app and busied herself looking through the list of pizzas.

Aurora hadn’t arrived by ten past six, and Tayce started to worry.

Maybe she’s changed her mind.

But Tayce refused to let that thought take any root. She looked at the clock, which of course seemed to slow down from having eyes on it, and firmly told herself that she would message Aurora at quarter past if she wasn’t here before.

With a minute to spare, Aurora turned up, grinning merrily and waving the bottle of rose in Tayce’s face.

“Hey bubble bud! Sorry I’m late, well I’m always late, sorry in advance if you expect me on time for anything!” Aurora took a step inside and her jaw dropped. “Wow, your place is well nice!”

“Thanks,” Tayce grinned, although she wasn’t sure what Aurora was looking at. Tayce wasn’t allowed anything on the walls from what her landlord said, but Aurora wouldn’t stay still - checking out the titles of the handful of CDs Tayce had brought down to London with her; scanning a nail along the books on the shelf above the TV.

“It’s nice to hold a book sometimes,” Tayce shrugged, “rather than just read it on the kindle app.”

When Aurora got to the kitchen, Tayce cringed. She’d have to confess.

“I haven’t got in anything to eat. Only - only some bread.”

“And pot noodles,” Aurora added, opening a cupboard and helping herself to the contents as if she’d lived here her whole life.

“And pot - oh, are you thinking, maybe …”

“No way!” Aurora slammed the cupboard door and grabbed her keys again. “Be right back!”

Ten minutes later and Tayce was at the hob over the oven with Aurora, dicing onions while she cut up a red pepper, mince that Aurora had grabbed from her own fridge was out and ready to go in too.

“I needed to use that up anyway,” she shrugged. “Please tell me you don’t just eat bread and pot noodles, Tayce, please. I need to give you a cooking crash course if you do! Didn’t you learn to cook at uni? Or didn’t you do much cooking before you went? Oh my days - no fry the onion off first, with the garlic - I’ll chop the mushrooms, Jesus Christ pot noodles …”

“I know how to cook, give me some credit!” Tayce murmured, but she couldn’t stop smiling. “I just haven’t been to the shop yet, it’s been a long week.”

Aurora closed her eyes and hummed in appreciation. “Just keep talking to me, please.”

“What about?”

“Anything! Your life, your family - I don’t know, house prices, I don’t care - but that accent, ugh -“ Aurora shivered.

“Yours is cute, too,” Tayce smirked.

Aurora looked at her reproachfully. “You’re lying.”

“Yeah, I am.”

It was no use. The air was full of electricity, static around them, and before Tayce knew what was happening, suddenly they were kissing again, this time stone-cold sober, while the onions burned shadows into the bottom of the pan.

——

Viv gave her notice on the flat at the start of June. 

“I just can’t afford to live here anymore,” she explained, sighing, when she got back and started to pack up everything in her room. “I’m gonna see if I can get some work back home.”

Tayce was numb, although she knew Viv didn’t mean it personally. It wasn’t her fault that she’d been made redundant straight after the lockdown ended, and it made sense that she wanted to be near her family. It was now four months since Tayce had seen hers, and she missed them every day, although she had been sticking religiously to her new routine of calling her parents every Saturday night and her brother’s family every Sunday afternoon. 

“I’m sorry that’s putting you in a tight spot, Tayce,” Viv muttered, hugging her, and Tayce hugged her back.

“Can’t be helped,” Tayce replied, which was all she could think to respond with that wasn’t an inarticulate growl in frustration.

Viv was adamant she would pay her final month’s rent, and pay her half the utilities even though she wasn’t there. But she had to go home.

“How was your move?” Tayce asked Ellie on the next group call on zoom.

“Shite,” Ellie replied, “but partly because we struggled finding someone to move us. There’s plenty of places around, plenty of places to rent and stuff, because everyone’s moved back to where they came from.”

“You’ll find somewhere else to live, bab,” Ginny murmured in a soothing voice to Tayce, stroking the side of the laptop screen as she liked to do to show affection now that she couldn’t hug anyone. 

“I know,” Tayce sighed. “It’s just a pain in the arse.”

She wasted no time. One of the spare room websites was always open in the background, and she was refreshing, looking maybe a little further out from central London to see if anywhere was cheaper, but nowhere was.

Then she spotted the dot in her own block of flats, and clicked the advert.

That’s - that’s Aurora’s flat.

Now she remembered. Aurora had mentioned something about her housemate moving out! It must now be official. 

She read through the advert - how was it £50 cheaper than what she was already paying? - and looked at the contact name for the housemate, and there it was in black and white pixels: Aurora Martin, use form below.

Grabbing a piece of notebook paper - one of the last bits left, she’d been ripping them all out to write to Aurora - she penned a letter, one of what might well be the last ones, and jogged upstairs to post it through her letterbox.

The response came back to her in less than an hour, a new record for Aurora.

‘Tayce! I’d love it if you wanted to move in here! OMG. My landlord will want references from yours, but if you can get them quick then he can approve you really fast, he’s working from home. OMG you made my day. Come up at 7pm xx’

“Work contacted me today too,” Aurora beamed as she settled with Tayce on the sofa. “They want me to start back next week! Can’t wait. Need to get that coin again now! I mean, I’m dead grateful, you know, that I still have my job and I was on furlough so the government paid most of my wages, but it will be nice to have the full package again!”

“What is it you do again?” Tayce asked.

“Oh - I work as a fashion buyer. But because fashion’s kind of stopped right now, most of the designers are shut. Reopening now, especially the ones in mainland Europe! Can’t wait to be on the phone to them all again.”

“Wait. You speak to designers in other countries?”

Aurora nodded. “I speak French and Spanish.”

“You -“ Tayce was dazed. “I didn’t know that!”

“Well why would you? I mean you’ve only known me a couple of months!” Aurora laughed, and leaned back closer to Tayce, her perfume overwhelmingly sweet in the air. “You’re not gonna know everything about me yet, bubble bud.”

“No,” Tayce purred, “but I can’t wait to find out.”

——

By the Monday after the move, early July, Tayce was all set up to go. She’d moved the bed into the corner as she liked it, arranged her books into a rainbow as she liked them, and unfurled the posters she’d been unable to hang in her last flat, mostly punk bands that she liked, Bimini’s band’s poster, and the noticeboard with all the tickets tacked to it of all the gigs she’d been to. The vanity with the mirror that she’d brought from home fitted perfectly next to the window so she could do her makeup with natural light; and it was large enough for her work setup, which was where she was now.

The flat layout was almost identical to the one she’d just left, and the room was the same one - Aurora having the slightly bigger room - but it felt a lot more comforting, knowing she wasn’t alone here any more, knowing she had a little more freedom in decorations, and knowing that the hollow feeling in her chest was starting to slow down for good.

She turned off her work laptop at five as normal, which was when Aurora came in. Tayce pulled her in, giving her a peck on the lips. 

“They’re gonna love you, I promise.”

Aurora just made a moan in the back of her throat and put her face in her hands, shrinking away from the vanity.

Tayce turned on her personal laptop, logging into zoom and connecting to the group chat. Her monthly uni call was set to half four today for some reason, and everyone else was already all there.

“Tayce! We wondered where you’d got to!”

It was Veronica’s voice, and Veronica’s face was in the top left. She still looked a little tired, and the shirt she was wearing looked suspiciously like a pyjama top, but she was here with them all, and this was a big step for her.

Tayce beamed at her. “So good to see you!”

“The move went alright then, bab?” Ginny asked.

Tayce nodded. “And there’s someone you should meet.” She pulled Aurora into frame, who still looked uncharacteristically shy for a moment before waving at the people on the screen. “This is Aurora.”

“Aurora!” Tia squeaked. “Like the princess!”

Aurora rolled her eyes. “Yes.”

“So we’ve got Rory and Ronni here together at last!” Lawrence exclaimed, while Veronica gave the camera two fingers.

But Tayce just grinned at her friends on the screen, far apart but together in this strange way. Aurora’s nails dug into her shoulder, still a little nervous, but even that was fading as she got more comfortable. 

Aurora had been right - the city was just a lot of bricks in intricate patterns without someone in it that made it a home. 

And this just might be becoming one.

[adie-dee]

Your OC’s Backstory December Special

Yep, my entry is 5 days late, but I’m just happy I got it done. I’m also posting all four prompts in one post, as I wrote 2000 words total.

This is from before Bethany was cursed. For those who have read my previous backstory pieces, Bethany’s brother Harrison is no longer a baby. Instead, he’s now her adult older brother. She still finds him dead a few months before she’s cursed, though

HOME

My pink crayon was missing.

I searched through the drawing room, trying really hard to find it, as without it I couldn’t finish my picture.

“Are you meant to be in here?” Harrison asked just as I stuck my head under the sofa. 

“No,” I replied, sitting back up. “But I needed to do some drawings and this is the drawing room and I’ve lost my pink crayon!”

“It’s a different type of drawing in ‘drawing room’,” he said with a smile.

“Daddy said that too, but I don’t understand!” I whined. If it was really just a living room, why didn’t they call it that? 

Harrison kneeled down at the coffee table. “So what are you drawing?”

“It’s our house,” I said, joining him. “And that’s Mummy, and Daddy, and you, and me!” I pointed to each bit as I spoke. “But I need my pink crayon to finish Mummy’s garden and I can’t find it!”

“And what about this?” He pointed at a scratch on the table.

I covered it with my drawing, which he immediately removed.

“It was an accident,” I mumbled. “But I can fix it.”

I didn’t understand why Harrison laughed when I picked up my brown crayon.

“Allow me,” he said, taking it from me. He placed his hand on the scratch and whispered something magical, and when he lifted his hand the scratch was gone. 

“Wow!” I wished I could do magic, but Mummy said I didn’t have the spark. “Can you use it to find my crayon?”

“I don’t have that kind of magic,” he told me. “But why do you need the pink? The picture looks finished to me.”

I looked at the drawing again. It was obviously not finished, why did he think it was? “The flowers are missing,” I said slowly.

“Oh. Well, could you do orange flowers? Or red? Purple, maybe?”

“That is a good idea!” I picked up the purple crayon and added in the flowers, then handed the picture to Harrison. “This is for you. For when you leave so you don’t forget me.”

“What makes you think I’m leaving?”

“I heard you,” I mumbled. “When you were on the phone--”

“In my room,” he finished for me. “Which is eavesdropping. Hasn’t Dad told you that’s a bad thing to do?”

I thought for a moment. “Yes. Five times,” I said, holding up five fingers.

“Well you don’t need to worry: I’ll be back a lot. And I’m not going to forget you!” He hugged me. “How could I ever forget my baby sis? Especially with this amazing artwork.” He held it up again. 

“It’s upside down,” I giggled, turning it. “See?”

“Ah yes, I see now.” He stared at it a moment longer. “This needs to be our secret though, ok? I won’t be moving until next year, and I haven’t told anyone I’m going yet.”

I did a big nod. “I can keep a secret!”

“We both know that’s not true.”

“I can keep your secrets!” I corrected. “And when I’m grown up I can live with you too! And our home won’t have rules about eating vegetables. Or making my bed every day. And I can have a drawing room of my own!”

“Sounds good, kiddo,” Harrison said, cleaning up my crayons. “Now let's get out of here before Mum finds us and you get in trouble again.”

HOLIDAY

Dear Diary,

Last night was the shortest night of the year! 

We had a party to celebrate, and Mummy and Daddy didn’t even make me go to bed at seven. I got to stay up all night! 

There was lots of yummy foods that I got to eat that I don’t normally get to eat, like jelly babies and cake and ice cream, and Harrison even gave me something called cordial, which is like a lolly but it’s a drink! I wanted to taste what he was drinking too but he said it was grownup cordial and I wouldn’t like it. 

I got to play with other kids too which was really really fun! And I didn’t even get in trouble when I got dirt on my dress from when Brett threw it at me.

After everyone went home, me and Mummy and Daddy and Harrison took the stairs behind the gate up to the roof. Daddy called it a puppet, I think. It was a nice flat bit on the edge of the roof with a wall around it, and we were up there to wait for the sun to rise! I didn’t have to go to bed at all!

I fell asleep anyway, even though I tried real hard. But then Harrison woke me up and I got to see the sunrise, and WOW! The sky was orange and yellow and pink and it was so pretty.

I’m really really tired now. I even fell asleep at the breakfast table and had to clean milk off my face, which made Daddy laugh and Mummy frown. Harrison wasn’t there but he would have laughed too. 

Mummy has put me to bed and wants me to have a nap. And I will, diary, I will, but not before I tell you a secret. I found the bag of jelly babies and hid it in my dollhouse. I don’t get many lollies so they’re my secret and I’m going to eat them all.

Once I have my nap. Night, Diary!

GIFT

Bethany…

I pulled the blanket over my head, hoping that was enough to make the monster go away. 

Bethany…

The monster started scratching on the floorboards too and I pressed my hands to my ears. “Go away!” I yelled, the way Mummy and Daddy had told me to. “Daddy says you have to!”

BETHANY!

My mattress jumped under me, making me scream. I stood up on my bed and did my biggest jump, but I landed closer to the bed than I wanted to.

I’m going to get you!

I screamed again and ran for my bedroom door, pulling it open and running down the hallway until I reached Mummy and Daddy’s room. 

“Daddy daddy daddy!” I yelled, banging on the door. “The monster won’t go away!”

As soon as the door opened I ran into their room and threw myself on their bed. 

“Can I sleep here?” I asked Daddy, “Pleasssseeeee? I told the monster to go away and he didn’t listen and I’m scared!!” 

“The monster cannot hurt you,” Mummy said, joining Daddy at the door. “He will leave if you ignore him. Now please, Beth, go back to bed.”

I burst into tears. “But he’s scary!”

Daddy sighed and sat on the bad next to me. “What did you say to it?” He asked. 

“That… that… that you said he had to go away!”

“Oh Beth,” Daddy said with a small smile. “You have to tell him you don’t want him there. Then he will leave you alone.”

“But what if he doesn’t listen?!”

“He is trying to scare you, nothing more. As your mother says, he will not harm you. I promise. Do you believe me?”

Still crying, I nodded.

Daddy lifted me off the bed and carried me to the door. “Run along to bed, princess,” he said, putting me down. “We will talk more in the morning.”

I dawdled down the hallway, wanting to be anywhere but in my room.

Suddenly, a large monster appeared at the end of the hall and I screamed again.

“Bethany!” The monster yelled, stepping out of the shadows.

I started to giggle. That wasn’t a monster, it was Harrison. The monster never came out from under my bed, anyway.

“What are you doing up?” He asked me.

I told him about the monster.

“Wait here,” he said, then disappeared into his room. When he returned, he was holding a brown teddy bear. “I bought you this,” he said, handing it to me. “I was going to give him to you earlier, but you were already in bed when I came home.”

The teddy bear was soft and fluffy and cuddly, and I hugged him to my face. 

“This is a very special bear,” Harrison continued, crouching down next to me. “I gave him magic. So when the monsters make you scared, just hold him tight and he’ll make them go away.”

“Really?”

“Really really.”

I beamed at him. “Thank you!”

“But he needs a name.”

I looked at the bear again. Mummy had told me names were important, and I wanted to make sure I got it right. “Boris!” I announced. 

“Boris it is.” Harrison ruffled my hair then stood up. “Come on, kiddo, let’s get you back into bed.”

“Why aren’t you in bed?” I asked. He was still in his daytime clothes too, which was strange.

“Because I’m a grownup.”

“Mummy and Daddy are grownups too.”

He picked me up and smiled. “They’re old grownups,” he said, carrying me back to my room. “And grownups can go to bed whenever they want.”

“I can’t wait to be a grownup!”

“It’s a long way away.” He tucked me into bed. “Goodnight, Bethany.”

“Night, Harrison.”

He pulled the door closed behind him.

Bethany…

I hugged Boris tight, just like Harrison told me to. “Go away!”

The monster didn’t reply. 

NEW YEAR

A hand touched my shoulder. 

“Boris!” I cried, hugging him tight. The monster was back, he was going to grab me and eat me and—

“Bethany,” a voice hissed, clearly not that of the monster. 

“Harrison!”

“Shh!” He switched on my bedside light. “I want to show you something,” he whispered, “but you have to promise not to tell anyone.”

“I can do that,” I said, sitting up. “I haven’t told anyone you’re leaving. I nearly told Daddy but I didn’t.”

He held his pinky out to me. “Pinkie swear?”

“Pinky swear,” I repeated, hooking mine onto his. “Now can I see?”

“Yes. But get your slippers.”

Holding Boris tight I jumped out of bed and ran over to my wardrobe. My slippers were nowhere to be seen so I pulled on my gumboots instead. I liked my gumboots. They weren’t boring colours like all the clothes Mummy bought me; instead they were pink and purple and had flashing lights in the bottoms. Harrison always got me nice things, and wearing them with my nightie made me feel like a princess.

“Can you be quiet in those?” he asked once I came out of my wardrobe. “We don’t want anyone to hear.”

I replied with a big nod.

He led me out of my room and into the drawing room, pausing to pick up one of my crayons off the floor. “Cover your eyes,” he whispered.

I did as he asked, and heard something go click.

When I uncovered them, the back of the fireplace was missing, and there was a rickety staircase instead.

I almost squealed with excitement. A secret passage! 

Harrison ducked into the fireplace and I followed him, climbing the stairs, and suddenly we were on the roof. 

But not the nice flat part where I got to watch the sunrise. This bit was steep and covered in thick red tiles.

“Why are we--”

Harrison shushed me again. “Mum and Dad are on the parapet,” he whispered, pointing to where the nice bit was. “They wanted you to stay in bed but you’re five now, and a big girl, and I wanted you to see.”

“See what?” 

Just as I spoke there was a big explosion overhead, one made of purple and green sparkles. Then red, and blue, and silver. Some were big circles and others shot up like rockets, and even the bridge was covered in sparkles. It was so pretty. Not as pretty as the sunrise, but still really really pretty.

Harrison picked me up and I reached out, trying to catch the falling lights.

“Happy new year,” he whispered.

Suddenly I gasped. “Does this mean you’re leaving me now?” I don’t want you to go!” Tears formed in my eyes and I rubbed my face onto his shoulder to wipe them away.

“Not yet. I have a few more things to organise, so I’ll be here for the rest of summer. And when it’s time, you’ll be the first to know.”

[fortheheavenssake]

MM ANON II - 1

April 15, 2020

1. April 15

MM ANON …… doctor gone batty……… LA for dummies ……… Doctors Within Borders ……… social insistence ………… hugs not bugs……… absolutely isolated Kate. ……… “ not a whisper ma’am ……… St George’s chapel of course!!…………… with humility skippy, with humility.

2.

Mm anon verified

MM ANON … to forgive Devine. To accept ones shortcomings is a hard pill to swallow especially if like myself your behaviour Is mired in self justification and blind contempt … it’s taken me a long time to ask forgiveness ……… and pride is a killer of the spiritual light. To those who can find forgiveness on their heart I thank them, humbly and sincerely. ……… MM ANON

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3. April 30

MM ANON ……… the only virus ………… wonderful children to hug…… magnificent isolation ma’am……… dirty Megan,clean Harry ……… will never be the same ………… big things for a future princess ……… home cooking ………… “ ground control to major Tom” ………. “ and wash your bloody hands!!!……… an archificial birthday ………… trooping the colours???

Thank you! Happy to have you back!😊❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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4. April 30

MM Anon

MM ANON …… Many thanks skippy ……… a privilege to return to you all ……… graciously thankful to pg , skippy and all anons. Callidus er populum

Welcome back….😊💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

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5. May 1.

MM ANON … it’ll cost us thousands …… “ ‘‘tis the times’ plague , when madmen led the blind “……… 🎼 all the clubs have been closed down 🎼………… “ if you both don’t stop fighting I’ll send you to Madagascar “ ………… “ one makes ones bed”…………… “ well wash your bloody hands AGAIN!!”…………… “ there so funny on screen Philip” …… Quo victuals est super eam et irrumabo …………… next slide please.

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6. May 2.

MM ANON ……… bless all who come here……… stay safe ……… not sneezing season ……… birthday girls world following ……… sitting on the toilet screaming and howling ……… Plasma fantazma?……… 🎼give a little bit 🎼……… “ I swear ,I’ll send you to bloody Madagascar “……… “another top up sir”………” leave the poor man be Philip “……… “no ma’am not yet” ……… Wilfred!!!!!………… “ Bloody Wilfred!!”……… conspirators will spread another sort of virus.

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7. May 3

MM ANON ………Lucrezia Markle……… For her own well-being … she’s kicking and sedated ……… safety net for Harry ……… a very private LOCK-down ………” GATEWAY“intervention …… “NHS Catherine , Sterling work darling “ …………” yes ,I love Frozen 2” ………… PTA……… “ your experience would be valued ma’am”……… “ I myself am best when least in company “……… absque misericordia

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8. May 4

MM ANON …… granny flap…… delusions of gran-tour…… “ aye, some wantid er’ but Walt dis-ney “…… a p****hub offer worth millions …… a secret return …… Lottie leaded Cambridge assault ……… “ a very prominent speech for VE DAY ma’am”. …… unlocking the unlock able ………… 🎼day by day…🎼………… pause ,pray, proceed. …… optimistic optimism???

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9. May 5

MM ANON …… Thank Dear anon for interpretation …… and yes if you’re struggling dear pg … prayers and hugs

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10. May 5

MM ANON ……… “ hi Kate , how wonderful to hear your voice “😂😂😂………… Archificialy archificial. ……… 🎼but sometimes,ya get what ya need🎼……… “ if you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue “……… a Duchess,a Duchess and a Duchess walked onto a bar……… tunc non transiet ……… an infectious tube……… my my margarita ……… let go let god. ……… ( and Thank skippy).

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11. May 6

MM ANON ………… archificial anniversary ……… “she hasn’t a bloody clue “ ………I speak for Meghan ……… 🎼he’s a real nowhere man🎼……… “ the fool doth think he is wise…… “………… 🎼come fly with me (not)🎼……… A few weeks more …………” we do the outside first Philip” ……… Bloody jigsaw………” Sydney!!!!! “……… “ Mmmmm , interesting, a virtual Balcony “ …………… “ yes , a new medal is appropriate” ………… unlockdown!!! ………… “ give us a hug”.

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12. May 6

MM ANON ……… Sooooooo , where is Harry in the duck / rabbit video????????????????? An archificial attempt to ingratiate herself as a mother of a surrogate child. She looks a tad sheepish 🐏🐏🐏🐏🐏🐏🐑🐑🐑🐑🐑🐑. 😂😂😂😂

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13. May 7

MM ANON … Spider Sandwiches ………… the photographic phenomenon ………… “O Christ, she knows her way round a Cannon” ……… “ modest, small and incremental “ ……… “ she’s still spitting bullets over the duchesses children “ ……… “ my goodness, Charlotte trumps everyone”. ………… another modest outfit. ……… the books a flop, who would buy it? ……… “ dada duck duck”…………”ANOTHER sex tape!!!!! “…………… her irrelevant life………… desperately seeking ANYTHING………… a sad demise Rachael!!

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14. May 7

MM ANON …… dear and inquisitive anons ……… THE RIDDLES ARE “ ENTERTAINMENT “ only, a parody and lightness of spirit and soul! It’s a privilege to be here , by the grace of Skippy …………… enjoy!! 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

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15. VE Day 75, May 8

MM ANON …… My mother was a plotter at Northolt fighter base in 1943 where she met my father who was a pilot, I remember her saying that the Polish pilots were the bravest men she ever met. ………… we shall remember them 🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧

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16. May 8

MM ANON …… The Queen, god bless her……… blackout ……… the king/ the Queen the nation ……… never give up, never despair ……… the home front……… 🎼some sunny day 🎼………… 🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧………… 🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸……… 🇨🇦🇨🇦🇨🇦……… and all who fought ……… a day like no other……… at the going down of the sun and in the morning ……………… ‘ we shall remember them.

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17. May 9

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜MM ANON ……… Dear pg , your gracious tribute to the riddle. I Ended the post in tears ………………… respect.

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18. May 9

MM ANON …… “ it’s an unlock Jim, but not as we know it “……… on yer bike……… 🎼that’s life,……🎼………… Bar Wars………… survival of the fit-test……………”a vulgar mansion “…………… Spider sandwiches……… an emotional exhibition, Bravo!! ……… now that’s TRUE grit…………… be- bop-a-loo-la RIP……… The Serenity prayer……thank you for this forum xxxxx…………… it will end ,…one day!!

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19. May 10

MM ANON ……… Rachel 43………… archificial 15 months ……… hospitality will become inhospitable ………… the R factor ………… “Henry, don’t do that”. …… return to school??? …………… no guidelines …………… be alert,the country needs lerts………… risk assessment!!! ………… an issue of safety ………… it’s the economy,stupid!! ………… test, Trace and isolate. ………… a silver lining 🌈🌈

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20. May 11

MM ANON …… Thrive???………… definitely Malibu ………wear a mask ………… confusing but amusing ……… a question of credibility ……… 🎼 we can be heroes ……🎼…” what ever happened to wrinkle cream?”……… love and hugs to all our anon friends ……… 🎼 now there are three steps to heaven 🎼………… Brave New World ……… a quiet Queen.

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21. May 13

MM ANON …… for saving my mother ……… father ……… grandmother …… grandfather …son …��… sister……… brother……… daughter ………… thank you for saving my life nurse / doctor /……… how can I EVER thank you all ……… from the bottom of my ❣ ……… I can never find the words ……… my gratitude is unending ……… god bless you all. ……… GOD BLESS YOU ALL!! 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

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22. May 13

MM ANON ……… “come on Kate, off to Queens”……… Charlotte goes first……… “George ‘ get your bicycle “……… 🎼bye bye miss American spy🎼……… 🎼listen , do you want to know a secret 🎼……… stay alert 🤣🤣🤣……… trains, planes and automobiles……… driving miss day-see? ……… FOUR!!!! …………… an art gallery,when??……… single prayers please.

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23. May 13.

MM ANON …………… to all who visit ………… riddles are entertainment only … a parody ,a light and fluffy expression. 🤣😂🤣😂🤣😂Thank you all for understanding.

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24. May 14

MM ANON …… school of thought ……… bulldoze in and takeover ……… Braveheart & Boris ………… dead theatre ……… GOT………… Charlotte summer ……… anticipation of antibodies ………… China???………… death of Hollywood ………… 🎼blow a little whistle 🎼………… we have no plan B……… I’m so bored ………… “ we’re gonna need a bigger fence”

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25. May 15

MM ANON ……… a lovely surprise ……… sweet Charlotte ……… it’s teaching Jim, ……………”Harry, you know you’ll always have a place “……………”he’s not happy Catherine “ ……… R1………… re-train………… clubbings, clubbed…… Tea-CHING…………… “ yes, that’s a really good question”…………2 metres for ever???………… a rally in Calais. ………… GBHMTQAOGC 🇬🇧🌈🇨🇦

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26. May 16

MM ANON …… “ I’m keeping my tennis shoes on”……… “I’m not getting out of bed for less than 3mill” …… cold nose undercover ………… a learning yearning ………… “friends thou hast, and there adoption tried “…… …… 🎼ya gotta give a little 🎼……………… “I’m not happy about them returning William “ …………… “ One needs ones hair attended too”………… “ I’ll bloody cut it myself !!”……… “ I know!! … SYDNEY!!”

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27. May 17

MM ANON …… a Diamond evaluator ……… Of no consequence whatsoever ……… straight to credits. ………… LA Confidential ………… 🎼no sir I don’t mean maybe 🎼…………… 🎼Don’t fence me in🎼…………… “ I want Adele you a story “……………… The man from U.N.C.L.E. Harry …………… “ ones lockdown sucks” ………… “ miserable without Boddys old thing “ …………… “Sydney’s slacking “.

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28. May 18

MM ANON ……… a personal loss………… the Dynamic Duo………… FPhishing……Nlcola Nike Snike ………… Hydroxy- foxy(do not do this at home)…………………” a suitable case for ( shhhhh) treatment “ ………… “ no comment “ …………… “ a game of cards old thing “…………… “patience Philip ……………” ………… ma’am , it’s Charlotte and George on tic-toc…………… “dance, gan, gan, you dance, … Sydney!! 

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29. May 19

MM ANON …… Ana-adversity …… the gathering marital storm…………” first family visit will be the United States when normalisation hits ma’am” …………”life will return ma’am”……… Who is that? …………… guesting the testing ……… “ they won’t return early ma’am”…………… “one speaks to Catherine,daily , and the little ones” ……… “it’s interminable Sydney,” …” a Little top-up sir”

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30. May 20

MM ANON … Regarding the gathering of unhappy people, slutmeg only invited the men she had slept with , with their +ones ……… the members of the RF who attended treating it as a pantomime and a priceless observation of side- eyes and laughter. HMTQ look at slutmeg… EPIC. 😂😂😂😂😂😱😱😱😱😱

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31. May 20

MM ANON ……… 5 years old ‘ COVID security ……… transmission admission??……… 1st. June. …………… A pollution solution ………… free at last……… kiss 💋 me 😱😱😱………… another Father???…………… Spanish,French and judo 😂😂😂…………… lies,damm lies, and MM……… an expensive squat………… A Greece-y gamble. ………… “ is one sitting comfortably’ good, Once apon a time “

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32. May 21

MM ANON …… “what , seen at Lympstone “………… a Diplomatic retreat ……… A-Nul-ment………… NY bio-diver-city……… facegrime ………… Charles, a man for all see-sons……… thermal Heathrow ………… 1st Solo address ………… high-end-ing ………… “ clever children, such a lovely dance”……… “ no darlings gan-pops with Sydney “………… “ yes’ we’ll all bake a cake “………… “ pretty Jim-jams Charlotte “.

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33. May 22

MM ANON …… 88 two fat ladies ……… two blacked out Discovery’s in St Leonard’s ……… Priti Draconian …… pray,or else!! ………… gel my temperature ……… wash your hands then wrinkle cream ……… a memorial event ………… Hong-Gone…………” well, wake him up Sydney!!………… “bloody hell Sydney “ ………… “ sorry ma’am , Charlotte wants to play bingo”……… “ wonderful , clickerty duck”

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34. May 23

MM ANON …… 44 million? ………… anons’ how much on clothes?………… “still looked trash”………… evidences of past yachting 😱😱😱😱😱………… LA EX?? ………… “ in Exeter”…………… “ Josh Stones!!“………… a second peak? ……………not in Spain 🥳🥳🥳………… meanwhile in WC. ……… “ gan gan I want a tiara “ ………… “ and one day you shall “ ……… “ is nanny back Catherine?”……… “where’s my bloody slippers “ ……” your wearing them sir”

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35. May 23

ANON … As we all submit our little posts give a thought for the reason we can , it’s the ever faithful skippy and her eclectic forum ……… love, prayers, animals, history, royalty, and silliness ……… god bless you dear skippy 💜💜💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

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36. May 24

MM ANON …… Cummings going?………Lottie nottie going ……… Harry’s 💡 idea……… “give birth? Incapable!! ……… “during yachting “………… “ I’ve seen the evidence “ ………… “ she lied to TBRF” ……… MOS knows!! …… 🎼we’re all going on a summer 🎼………… to pray or not pray………… “ Pleeeeez gan gan!! “……… “ one day you shall sweet girl” ……… “ next year , if things are admissible “ ……… “ he’s a tad grumpy ma’am”……… “ ignore him Sydney”

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37. May 25

MM ANON …… Charlottes WWWeb……… Rules, What Rules. ……… in flight,flight. ………… Tinsel down……… hugs not bugs ………… non essential retailers open ………… no pubs, sport , cinemas, theatres, …………… Cummings,a shaggy dog story. ……… a very angry electorate ………… “ I want to go school gan gan”………“let’s see your dancing “………”no, school gan gan!!……… “ Oooooo, whats mummy doing “ ………… “ Sydney, refreshments ‘please.

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38. May 25

MM ANON …… MEMORIAL DAY …IN HONOUR OF THEIR SERVICE ……………… 🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇨🇦🇨🇦🇨🇦🇨🇦🇬🇧

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39. May 26

MM ANON …… Kate re-opening high street……… “excellent, as retail ambassador “……… W&K will have the public’s ear” …………”a late family tour ma’am’……… “ that’ll put a a Kate among the pidgins” …… “ a damaging tome sir “……… “ opening book shops, how’ll that work?……… “you can’t handle books……… “ o’ Philip, a quiet night”…… “ bloody hell !! What’ no tic-toc ?……… “nanny’s organised bingo”:…… “ ahhh, ……… Sydney ‘ something strong!!

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40. May 27

MM ANON …… KATE MIDDLETON IS A FUTURE QUEEN! She has three beautiful children and a loving husband, solid, grounded and intelligent. THIS IS THE FUTURE OF OUR MONARCHY ,I THINK SHE HAS MORE SPIRITUAL STRENGTH. AND WILL BE THE FOUNDATION OF THE CAMBRIDGE FUTURE. GBHMTQAOGC 🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧

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41. May 27

MM ANON ………”I get tired of Lottie tic-toc-ing” ………… “little Louis gets tired using the trampoline “……… “ I’m off to Queens,tennis “……… back on his Ducati……… Nanny is making 🥘 paella ………… “I’ve managed to acquire that box set ma’am” …… “ Gangs of London or The Sopranos“……… both ma’am”……… “bloody epic Sydney “……… “ is that bumbling Minister still running round the palace “……… “ tell him to piss-orf”……… “ top-ups”

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42. May 28

MM ANON …… MM drone ing on…… tittle Tatler ……… lockdown tour T-shirt ………… ahhhhhhh, rate!! ……… school digital haves’ digital have nots……… rid the clap!! ………… one metre ………… “ it’s football Jim, but not as we know it “………… “To his good friends, thus wide lle ope my Armes: ……… “ look Philip,it’s Louis bouncing “ ……… “they have a new dance”……… “ return of a routine“…………” Maria and Lottie swimming “ …… “bloody hydrotherapy on Sunday “……… “ I think that’s enough Sydney “

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43. May 29

MM ANON ……… looting/ shooting ………… “ tic-toc Nanny”………… “ ok! Charlotte, get Louis too” ……… “ George,do it properly “……… W&K , It’s a challenging schedule ma’am” …………” there having a bike day at Brands Hatch with Ducati “ ……… “ Nottingham cottage ma’am”………… “like old times ma’ am”……………” I’ll have a quiet word with Donald “………… “ not Philip, his diplomacy is wanting”………… “exiting times ma’am”……… “ one shall insist on compliance Christopher “

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44. May 30

MM ANON …………… another billionaire friend ………… she lies on lies…………desperate for attention ……… a roadmap to nowhere ……… up up and away ……… all white on the night …………LTA talks with Kate ………… MENSA with Charlotte??………… “ bright as a button ma’am”. …… “ not this side of the family “………” there coming over next week”………” Mmmmm , live tic-toc”……… fairycakes Sydney.

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45. May 31

MM ANON …… it Musk be love ……… nine elms………… agent provocateur ………… teetering on the edge………… body cams?? ………… amateur photographers unite ………… front line statue ……… 🎼I heard it on the grapevine 🎼………… “ no darling not today”……” we’re going to visit gan gan” …………”staying overnight ma’am” ………… “ a few days Sydney “………… “ tomorrow night, it’s a little concert Philip, don’t get grumpy “ ………… “bloody hell, I’m low on refreshments. “

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46. June 01

MM ANON … Balmoral Fern………… plastic Nile. ………… in the Bunker ………… Autopsy …………………Truth , Justice and the American way ………… WC welcome …………… “ would one know how to barbecue Sydney??” ………… William will oblige ma’am……”one prefers coronation chicken “…………… “unicorn sausages ,Lottie George??……… “just salad ma’am. “

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47. June 02

MM ANON ……… keep your distance ………” it’s a curfew Jim , but not as we know it “ …… “ A plague o’ both your houses “……… house today , gone tomorrow ………… “all lives matter “ …………… cut and roots and streaks ……… B&EC are reluctant to return ………… Minister misleads testing ……… office of national ridistics ……… 🎼I I see a bad moon rising 🎼………… blackout Tuesday ………… “ “wear a body-cam old thing, then I can pretend I’m riding “ …………… “one would look ridiculous Philip!!”……… “ Sydney, stop pouring “

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48. June 03

MM ANON …… 2020 another royal baby ………… development in Portugal ……… more charges eminent Minnesota ……… a wet summer ………… ISS a strange smell? ……… … London protests …………NAACP……… size 12 , and the shoes 👠 ……………” mummy , mummy- goes viral ………” we’ll old thing, I wasn’t expecting that ending “……… “ so enjoyable Philip ‘ anymore Sydney?……… “ I think Catherine has Peaky-Blinders ma’am” …… “ is it a bit GBH ? “ ……… “ yes ma’am”……… “Ohhhh goody”.

——————

49. June 04

MM ANON ……MM heartfelt acting……… W&K just heartfelt 💓………… the Tatler connection ………… 🎼stormy weather …………… 🎼………… MadDog…………2nd degree. X 4……………… 14 days to binge. ……… a Russian contamination …………vaccine summit ……… ”that’s a terrible selfie Philip, it’ll frighten her” ………” let Sydney do it!! “ ……… “take one together ma’am” ……… “ give me the bloody thing !! “ …… bloody tic-toc “ ………… “ one zooms” ……… “get him some refreshments Sydney”

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50. June 04

MM ANON …… “ Heartfelt video “ anything heartfelt in the life of MM is self indulgent. A selfish PR attempt to seem engaged in the national conciseness Her agenda …… “how can I make this about ME!!! “ this woman is so shallow. ………… a Caucasian of infinite insults. A pitifully example of insecurity and ego. A walking talking resentment. God help her!!

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51. June 5

MM ANON …… never look a gift bandwagon in the mouth…… everyone is crawling out the woodwork ……… “I’m covert 19 , fly me” ……… M&H on the March??? ………… over 40,000………… flight attendant/ ……… the dodgy R…………… mandatory masks ………… The Amazon too ??? ………… online celebrity … “ There here Philip “ …………” one has to distance darlings “ …… “ yes there lovely shoes” ……… “ look Philip, live tic-toc “………” it’s wonderful wonderful “ ………… “amazing, he’s shot up “ ………” shall we have a little refreshments?”

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52. June 6

MM ANON …… the battle of Whitehall ……… agent Provocateurs………new trading …… it’s a Sunday Jim ,but not as we know it ………… social distancing got wet……… antibodies have the answer ……… R is above 1 in the SWest Of England. 😱😱😱😱……… second spike😱😱😱………🎼when I was 65 ,it was a very good year 🎼………… “ look it’s mummies wedding “ ……… “it’s mummy gan gan” ……… “ yes , so pretty the coach “ ………” I want one “ ……… “ one day sweetie, one day” ………” will you come gan gan ? “ ………… “ I’ll try darling “.

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53. June 7

MM ANON …… I’d like to thank pg /LK and all the anons who attempt/ solve and interpretations of the riddles that skippy graciously lets me post 💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻💓💓💓🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿🇨🇦🇨🇦🇨🇦🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧Many thanks to all those who partake.

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54. June 7

MM ANON ……who’s her next favourite millionaire ……… Malibu?? ……… NYC??……… another sad video cry for help ……… archificial ( firsts words) 🤣🤣🤣………… mad / bad & dangerous to know ……… “ it’s me, me film me!! ………… “ turn around!! “ ……… “ he’s not letting her agenda rule” ………” this is not up for debate “………… “yes ones looking forward to traveling up there “ ………” get in touch with the Gillie” …………… “ can one travel to ones other residence?…………… “ can’t find my bloody glasses, Sydney!!

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55. June 8

MM ANON ……D.O.J.……… A Stern retort. ………… the sept. Soothsayer ……… A 14 day suicide for the trade………… in court today ……… Beatrice tooo tu!! …………… wonderful Wessex……… more photos from Kate??? ……… no fuss birthday ………… “ shall one suggest a gathering of 8 .” ………” no, silly’ Balmoral?? ……… MM desperatum iri videbatur……

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56. June 9

MM ANON ……… everyone and their brother,brother ……… wow!! What a photo Kate!!…………… little Louis gets a surprise …………… a well rounded future of three( four) ……… A birthday tic-toc dance………… “ do Catherine , come and bring the children “………… “maybe a change of routine “………… “ Both of you are an example hope”……… “ yes George,I’ll see if we can get to a match”

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57. June 10

MM ANON … Gone……………everything is now B&W…………… “ but’ tomorrow is another day”………… “ but old thing, I look like bloody Bela Lugosi” ………… “ shutup Philip”……… “ just Take the bloody picture “.………”they’ve hardly ever been on a train William “………… “ yes , they’d be very excited 😜 “ ………… 🎼we’re all going to the zoo tomorrow 🎼…………… she lies for exposure……… yachting’ secret exposure !! …………… this time it’s explosive!! ………… “ great scoop Beth.”

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58. June 11.

MM ANON …… dib dib dib……… one metre before July …………care-ing monarch online ……… 🎼What picture,what a photograph 🎼………… DOC museum of photography ? ………. Columbus falls……… “ I shall insist it’s the best TTC old thing “ …………a trace race. ………… Sunday Balmoral?? ………… “ plenty of fresh air for them” ……… “ in the lodge” ……… “C&C can stay here” ……………” your good at this zoom lark old thing “…………… “Group Of eight, a dinner party

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59. June 12

MM ANON …… for the anon who thinks she has superior knowledge of the riddles and has a problem with the wonderful interpretations of LK and pg. ……… I suggest you join the other ignorant anons who pay us a fleeting visit ……………THEN DISAPPEAR!! Skippy, we’re the ones who love you 💜💜💜💜💜

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60. June 12

MM ANON …… my BFF , sacked……… mr President,welcome ……… on mental health ‘ goal……… “they’ll still turn up old thing “………… “ they won’t see anything Philip “ ……… Boris,incandescent!! ……… “🍕 Pizza night children “………… “ thecrown old thing “ ……… “ NO!!” ………… “ we haven’t finished peakyblinders” ……… “ bloody brummies” ……… “ PHILIP!!………… Sydney ‘ we’re out of your refreshment sir “ ………… WHAT!!

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61. June 13

MM ANON …HMTQ was social distancing ……… beautiful in blue……… “ amazing bloody parade “…… to Broach the subject …… “ you looked magnificent old thing”. ……… KHAN GET IT RIGHT …… a WEE disturbing …… hugs 🤗 not bugs……… the China syndrome ……… open market 😱😱😱………… won’t ring Beijing …………… “ Ahhh, Sydney, you refreshed the refreshments “ ………” ignore him Sydney “………… “ I found an old vidio TTC , 1975 Old thing, our favourite hits” ……… “ those were ones days” ………” we looked the mutts-nuts old thing

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62. June 14

MM ANON …… Adeleville……… Westfield?? ………… Charlottes delivery …………… 🎼grab the cash with both hands🎼………… another scam charity …………… she’s a race… ist ………… she publishes the book ………………… we will destroy her, we have the tapes…… “ no more Mrs, nice ma’am!! “ ………… “ ones gloves are orf Christopher ………… “ it was a very good year,old thing “.

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63. June 15.

MM ANON ……… Shetland lift-off……… LIZA with a ‘ don’t know em……………” it’s shopping Jim, but not as we show it……… “ matter of fact it’s all dark” …………… first jet easy ………… Brexit,old white guys drinking a lot. …………… a moment of reckoning ……… a virtual Wimbledon?? ………… Catherine to the rescue …… “ Ahhh , a relaxing night old thing “ …………… “Sydney’s provided a new box set” …… “Boardwalk Empire” ………“ bit violent old thing” ……… “ Epic Philip!!”…… “ones usual Sydney “………… “great!! No bloody tic toc.

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64. June 16

MM ANON …… “she Ascot nothing on me” ………… para-thanks William ……… PC , LOST weight??…………Oxford,Oxford ……… STIR-oid ………U-Turn dinner …………… falling tragedy ………… the Paris peasants are revolting ……… ……… “ we can still dress-up cabbage 🥬 “ ………… “Anne, my yellow ensemble”……… “Sydney ‘ a photo”………… “that’s a keeper, old thing” ……… “ here we go , tic-toc, the three of them” ………… “O, and Catherine!!” ………… “ ehhhh, And William “ ………… “ make it a double Sydney “…… “ how entertaining Philip “

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65. June 17

MM ANON … Goal no goal, offside!! …………red zone……… rear ended,whoops!! ………… saliva sample ………… another rally?? …………… a £ 900,000 paint job. ………… madam NYC incognito …………ZOOM to William ……… mutant outbreak confirmed ……………… NDA bombshell. …………joining the UN? …………… Chile lockdown ………”how many episodes old thing “ ………… “ yes , that Nucky chappie is a tad violent” ………… “ she’s meeting at Wimbledon “……………… “ Nanny’s taking them to the zoo”

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66. June 18

MM ANON ……… “NEVER………… “ ………” mon dieu” …… 🎼some sunny day 🎼……… “ good to meet again Mr President “………air corridor ……… “ to be honest,he was an obnoxious old bastard” ……… world beating 🍒……… non app- licable …… “ Bolt-hole. ………… self interest ……… BOE- more money!! …………… pepper sprayed……… “ O Philip, it’s the last one “……… “Always Downton Abbey old thing”

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67. June 19

MM ANON …… HMTQ boost……… cup cakes in kings-him ………… Garden-send-her ……… September kids ………… hack Australia ………… Bei-ching ………… Charlotte & George together ………… no longer alert ?? ………… “ get packed Philip we’re orf soon” ………debt, what debt? ……… slave day………… ONS………… “ bubble bubble- toil and trouble” ……… 🎼teach your children well🎼………… “Sydney ‘ don’t forget my tigger PJs”……… 🎼swing low,sweet chariot 🎼………… “ Cabbage ‘ it’s tic-toc time”.

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68. June 20

MM ANON ……… Hello!! ………… “ It’s a rally Jim , ……… viva espana ………… 🎼drink, drink, drink,🎼…………… black wall……… MM , another agenda!! ………… bollotics ………… “ Kate and William,the children are with nanny “ ………… “ Dover Sole and lemon parfait old thing “………… cream caramel,and Irish coffee Sydney!! ………… “September 9th ma’am. …… “ Stay over Catherine “

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69. June 21

MM ANON … give us a hug………… Duchess of Cambridge Royal collection ……… in the footsteps of lord Lichfield ………… EOS C700 Christmas present … … “ slow the testing down”…………Kung-flu…………… Size matters………… reopening NYC……… “ get ya hair 💇🏽‍♀️💇🏼‍♂️cut” …………… “ 🙋‍♂️🙋‍♀️🍺 “ ………… Rachel for president?? …………… archificial daddy day?? ……… spotted in St Johns Wood.

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70. June 22

MM ANON ……… noose-car……… Ahhhh, Germany……… BOE-meltdown ………… free at last………… testing the TEST!! 🏏……… Terrorisk ………… ONE ,small step………”I think She’s turning Japanese”………… Saint Lennox …………… A rush of wind…………… “ well now you’re free to be reunited with the little monsters”……… “ bloody hell’ what a joy” ………… “ O Philip ‘ hugs 🤗 lots of hugs” ………… “ and live tic-toc , I can hardly wait “ ………” I’ll have to muster some liquid courage, Sydney!! “

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71. June 25

MM ANON ……”they seek him there” ……… your services are no longer required ……… street rumble ……… phwew, wot a scorcher………… we’ll fight them on the beaches ………… it’s sunburn Jim , but not as we know it ………… mutation sensation ……………🎼you’ll neeeeeeever walk alone🎼……………… sign on the million dotted line ………… take the TRASH out…………… “ a letter ma’am”.

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[amphtaminedreams]

Filling the Met Shaped Hole (No, Not Like That): The Best Red Carpet Looks of Awards Season 2020

Hi to anyone reading,

I want to jump straight into things and ask a question. Which is the best Met Gala theme of the last 5 years and why is it Heavenly Bodies: Fashion and the Catholic Imagination?

Seriously though, despite the fact that I’m not sure anything will top Heavenly Bodies with the preceding and succeeding Met Galas being relatively disappointing (the camp theme definitely could have been taken further and lets not even talk about the Comme Des Garcons disaster), I still get excited for the gala every year, staying up til whatever hour of the morning so I can see all the fashion live. Of course, it makes complete sense that this year’s event has been postponed until October given the circumstances but the chosen theme of Fashion and Duration had the potential to be quite interesting, so I hope we do eventually get to see it; whilst I don’t miss endlessly scrolling through photos of every white male celebrity wearing the exact same suit and tie to the point where fangirls claim Harry Styles to be a pioneer of breaking gender norms because he wore a pink top, I long for the days where we could all temporarily coexist in peace and harmony thanks to the internet’s collective dragging of the Kardashians for paying no attention to the theme whatsoever. We should’ve guessed life as we know it was about to be flipped on its head when they actually turned up in something interesting last year.

What I’m trying to say is that I would love nothing more than to jump back in time to when tomorrow morning’s top Google search would be best Met Gala looks, and not how many lives did Boris Johnson’s fuckery cost us today. So in honour of the lack of trivial content, I thought I’d fill the Met shaped hole in our lives (amongst many other unfilled holes; today the freezer door at work hit me on the ass whilst I was putting ice cubes out and I think for a split second I got all flushed) by putting together a collection of my personal favourite red carpet looks from this year’s awards season and their respective afterparties: the BAFTAs, Brits, Critic’s Choice Awards, Golden Globes, Oscars, SAG Awards, and the Grammys to finish with.

Enjoy!

British Academy of Film and Television Arts Award (yes, that’s the BAFTAs but I needed a longer title)

(L-R: Zoe Kravitz in Dior, Rooney Mara in Givenchy, and Scarlett Johansson in Versace)

I am a British fan of television and arts but I will gladly say it: of all the awards ceremonies, the BAFTAs is hardly the most exciting, and the red carpet even less so. As I said, lots of boring men in boring suits and middle aged women being dressed by stylists who seem to think we’re dead from the neck down by the time we hit 40 and dress us accordingly so. Any hint of a décolletage explicitly forbidden.

There were a few good looks, however. From left to right, above we have Zoe Kravitz in Dior, Rooney Mara in Givenchy and Scarlett Johansson in Versace, who looks so amazing I almost forget that 1). Versace is going down the drain and 2). Scarlett Johansson would stand in front of a forest and take the role of a tree if she could. Which, along with her whole defence of Woody Allen, is really shit-she’s genuinely great in Marriage Story and an otherwise talented actress. As for Zoe Kravitz, she is up there with Robert Pattison as one of my biggest crushes right now and looks amazing in literally everything she wears, and Rooney Mara is consistently low-key yet elegantly dressed. 

(L-R: Greta Gerwig in Gucci, Florence Pugh in Dries Van Noten, Renee Zellweger in Prada)

Renee Zellweger proved an exception to the rule when it came to women over the age of 40 generally having clueless stylists-her dress is beautiful, very reminiscent of the delicate, demure beauty of 50s icons such as Grace Kelly and Audrey Hepburn. Florence’s dress, I actually really loved. It didn’t seem to go down all too well with actual Florence Pugh fans but red and pink together is an elite combo; I’m still firmly on the “surprised that it works but I’m into it” train. I mainly included Greta’s dress for the green velvet, to be honest; it’s disappointingly low-key for Gucci but nice enough all the same.

(L-R: Andrew Scott in Paul Smith, Charlize Theron in Dior, Daisy Ridley in Oscar de la Renta, and Emilia Clarke in Schiaparelli)

I was particularly excited to see Emilia Clarke in Schiaparelli-yes, I adore her because she played Daenerys Targaryen and I was ride or die for that bitch but also whenever I see her interviewed she has the most exuberant energy and honestly I want to be best friends. It’s not the most interesting dress Schiaparelli has ever put out there, but I like the fact that she went for something unique all the same.

Forest green is a colour I find hard to resist which is why I included Andrew Scott’s otherwise kinda basic suit (points for it being velvet) and Daisy Ridley in Oscar de la Renta. As elegant as the dress is, I would love for her stylist to have really leaned into the forest nymph vibes I’m getting and do something a bit less uptight with the hair and makeup; like imagine loose curls with tiny braids and hair rings and a dark lip and a slight smoke around the eye and...yes, I have very specific visions, I know. As for Charlize Theron, her work with Dior is the only reason I care about the brand; there’s definitely a case to be made here for giving Maria Grazia the benefit of the doubt, assuming that she tries all the prototypes on women who look like Charlize and that that’s why she’s happy to send dresses that are otherwise relatively underwhelming down the runway. 

The Brit Awards

(L-R: Charli XCX in Fendi, Ellie Goulding in Koche, Hailee Steinfeld in Fendi, and Harry Styles in Gucci)

In my opinion a much better reflection of quintessential British style than the BAFTAs, I originally ruled out including any music award ceremony red carpets in this post until I saw Maya Jama and Charli XCX’s looks. Consider me pleasantly surprised by Hailee Steinfeld’s cobalt blue burnout dress, a classic incarnation of the regal bohemian aesthetic Fendi channelled in their 2019 haute couture show. Plus Charli’s emo take on Glinda the Good Witch is also Fendi, driving home for me just how much I love their collections. I don’t know if I’d be sure about Ellie Goulding’s dress on the rack but the simple styling makes it work and she looks gorgeous, and Harry Styles looks just as pretty in a Gucci look that is MADE for him.

(L-R: Adwoah Aboah in Vivienne Westwood, Celeste in Gucci on the far right! I’m not sure who the guy in the middle is, I’m sorry and if anybody knows drop me a message and I will correct this immediately!)

Unfortunately, Harry Styles and Celeste didn’t get to pose together because this is really a perfect his and hers Gucci look; I feel like seeing one outfit next to the other would really highlight the quirky elegance of each. That being said, it feels criminal to talk about elegance without including Adwoah Aboah in Vivienne Westwood in the sentence; the dress is obviously stunning quality on its own merit, but Adwoah is what elevates it from unremarkable to ethereal. Fuck the weird ass knight figure that’s currently on top of the Brit Award, this woman is the definition of statuesque! Put her on top of the trophy you cowards!

And just to get it out of the way, when it comes to the guy in the middle, to quote Keke Palmer:

Sorry to this man.

Honestly, I saved all the red carpet photos from a Nylon (I think it was Nylon?) article back when the awards aired and towards the end of the photos they stopped including names-this happened a few times when I was looking through red carpet galleries. I reverse image searched where I could but not every photo turned anything up. If anyone does know who this man is, message me so I can include his name. He looks sick, and as far as suits go, this one is built upon and accessorised enough that it’s actually a look rather than the same old variation of a suit we’ve seen a million times before that may as well be the straight man’s designated red carpet uniform. 

(L-R: Maya Jama, Neh Neh Cherry in Bottega Veneta, Laura Whitmore)

And now the woman that forced me to include the Brits red carpet in this post in the first place: Maya Jama. Don’t get me wrong, my mind isn’t blown by this dress on its own, I probably prefer Laura Whitmore’s (Jaded do a similar newspaper dress and I’ve resisted adding it to my basket for 6 months now, this is the ultimate test of whether or not I finally cave), but Maya looks fucking MAGNIFICENT. The fit, the gloves, the confidence with which she carries it, it’s all SO good. Considering the timing, this is basically her Princess Diana revenge dress levelled up, 2020′s Jessica Rabbit moment. 

(L-R: Maya Jama, Ellie Goulding, Kendall Jenner)

Obviously anything is gonna be a step down from the red carpet look but Maya’s Brits afterparty outfit was cute too, if a tad Pretty Little Thing. 

Don’t ask me what Kendall Jenner was doing at the Brits afterparty btw, because I have no idea. We live in a world where the Kardashian-Jenners just seem to occupy every public space possible and I’ve begrudgingly accepted it at this point. I don’t have the energy to question it-and it helps that green catsuit is actually Very Cool™. 

For the last of my favourite Brit Awards looks, we have a few more afterparty photos-from left to right we have Charli XCX again, Lizzo, and Anne Marie. It was Charli posting her dress on Instagram that sent me searching for afterparty looks in the first place; apparently wearing nothing but feathers and crystals is something that appeals to me, and the more I read that statement, the more it sounds spot-on. I’d categorise it as gothic glamour hoe, and slot it in with the rest of the night-out clothes in my wardrobe that I think I’ll finally have the balls to wear out of sheer desperation once this lockdown is over. The Blossom to Charli XCX’s Buttercup here, we’ve also got Anne Marie looking extra AF and I loveeeee it; it’s an ensemble somewhere between a high-end version of Alaska Thunderfuck’s candyfloss Sugar Ball dress from season 5 of Drag Race (Alaska DID deserve to win AS2 nation, rise up) and a low-key version of a Katy Perry California Dreams Tour costume. I don’t call it low-key as a drag, just a regretful admission of the fact that maybe wearing a cupcake bra which squirts whipped cream out of the boobs is a bit too much for most of us. 

Critic’s Choice Awards

(L-R: Alison Brie in Brandon Maxwell, Chloe Bridges in Azeeza, Cynthia Erivo in Fendi, Florence Pugh in Prada)

I was going to say the Critic’s Choice Awards is kind of America’s version of the BAFTAs but then I remembered that the BAFTAs is really the only big TV and film awards ceremony we have here in the UK and that it’s kind of sad that I have to compare our most high-profile red carpet of the year to L.A’s most low-key one. Getting Cynthia Erivo and Florence Pugh to infiltrate is the best we can do. 

THAT BEING SAID! 

They both look amazing. This is Florence’s best red carpet look of this year, imo (she the prettiest icicle I’ve ever seen), and Cynthia Erivo’s arm must ache from serving the entire awards season. And in Fendi! Taste!

Side note before we move onto the next set of looks: has anybody else watched Alison Brie in Mad Men and Community simultaneously and experienced the extreme cognitive dissonance that comes from watching her play a tragically nerdy (relatable tbh) 18 year old and an overly-sophisticated 30 something married to an ad man in the 60s at the same time? Weird, but anyway! The orange dress with the red lipstick is channelling Marina Diamandis’ Froot era style subtle sex appeal and is a timeless, playful combo. Put the hair up into a beehive and it’s Megan Draper on a date in Cabo-don’t know much about the place but I know the sea is aqua and the sun seekers are blindingly white and the cocktails are plentiful (and whatever colour you want them to be), and all that together is a juicy palette if we’re talking cinematography. The Mad Men directors are out there somewhere shaking their fists at the sky that they never got to consult me on that, I’m sure. 

(L-R: Phoebe Waller-Bridge in Dior, Saoirse Ronan in Erdem and Zendaya in Tom Ford)

Zendaya’s red carpet look was the stand out of the Critic’s Choice Awards for sure; the skirt I can do without but I hope that hot pink metal breastplate ends up on display somewhere because that is ART, and she is the perfect person to wear it. The Tiffany Pollard “she's so powerful” meme was made for this moment. 

Also, can we talk about Phoebe Waller-Bridge backing up my Dior 2019 Haute Couture wasn’t *that* bad hypothesis? Because unless I’m mistaken this is one of the dresses from that collection and it is quite beautiful. Yeah, black mesh isn’t going to start a revolution or anything but it’s so delicate looking it almost seems out of place on a red carpet-I don’t know if it’s the structure of the bodice or the tulle but I can totally see this in a gothic ballet, whether that’s sensible in theory or not. Probably not. But then again I did quit ballet when I was 10 after months of getting people to near poke me in the eye on the way out of class so it would look like I’d been crying and I didn’t have to go to my lessons after school. So what do I know? Fuck all, in case that wasn’t clear. I also feel a little vindicated by Saoirse wearing one of the Erdem dresses I loved from last year’s collection-if multi-award winning actress Saoirse Ronan’s probably ridiculously well-paid stylist liked it enough to pick it out for her then I guess I’m doing okay in terms of taste levels.

(L-R: Olivia Wilde in Valentino, Lucy Hale in Miu Miu, Mandy Moore in Elie Saab, and Margaret Qualley in Chanel)

The last few Critics Choice Awards looks I picked out above aren’t thrilling or anything but they’re cute enough to include-from left to right we have Olivia Wilde in Valentino, Lucy Hale in Miu Miu, Mandy Moore in Elie Saab and Margaret Qualley in Chanel. It’s kind of besides the point, but Margaret worked with Chanel throughout awards season and I just wanted to add my two cents in here and say that I think she’s the perfect person to collaborate with (also think Laura Harrier would be a good match, anyone agree?) and that in a similar vein, I urge Miu Miu, the creative directors of which I’m sure are eagerly awaiting the opinion of irrelevant Tumblr user amphtaminedreams, to work with Lucy Hale more often. I feel like if girl stopped starring in those shitty Blumhouse horrors and did something a bit more sophisticated she’d fit the brand right down to a T.

The Golden Globes

(L-R: Cynthia Erivo in Thom Browne, Dakota Fanning in Dior, Jane Levy in Steven Khalil, and Janina Gavankar in Georges Chakra)

Finally! I hear you cry! A more exciting red carpet! It’s not the Oscars, but celebrity stylists still pulled the big guns for this one, the Golden Globes probably being considered the second most prestigious American awards ceremony of the year. Plus Dakota Fanning was there! Big yay for me! She and Elle can practically do no wrong in my eyes and are probably the only 2 women that could take on Dakota Johnson and Jennifer Lawrence when it comes to established red carpet style. 

Cynthia Erivo did it again, of course, as slick, as dignified and as regal as she was at the Critic’s Choice. The woman really has got this power stance thing locked down; she always seems so cool and confident in everything she wears that the whole getting dressed up to go out out out (we call going to the club going “out out”, but I’d say a red carpet is a slightly bigger deal than my local club with the sticky floors hence the 3rd out) thing looks like second nature.

(L-R: Zoey Deutch in Fendi, Karamo Brown in Grayscale, Lucy Boynton in Louis Vuitton and Kat Graham in Georges Hobeika)

Lucy Boynton was another of my Golden Globes stand outs, and in general is someone who I really look forward to seeing at red carpet events. She (or her stylist, I don’t know how much of a role she plays!) always seems to commit fully to an outfit and sees it as part of a whole concept where the makeup, hair and accessories are equally as important and that is a girl after my own heart. 60s space age empress is the theme here and I’m all about it-well, either that or a feminine editorial take on the tinman from the Wizard of Oz but the former sounds a bit cooler and does way more justice to how good she looks so we’ll go with that. Quick shoutout to Kat Graham too because she looked absolutely radiant. 

(L-R: Shailene Woodley in Balmain, Winnie Harlow in Laquan Smith, and Zoe Kravitz in Saint Laurent)

The trio above I really couldn’t skim over, Winnie Harlow especially; my America’s Next Top Model grudges aside, she consistently turns it out at every event she’s invited to. She’s another woman that wears pieces with such confidence that they look like they were actually made on her body-even if the garment itself isn’t the most breathtaking in the room, she’s the one that draws my attention. Though she’s got these dainty, other-worldly qualities about her, what you’d expect to be a gentle presence is firm and commanding and whilst the sharp drama and glitz of the dress probably helps, that’s just the way Winnie Harlow is naturally, based on her other red carpet appearances. 

Zoe Kravitz is an interesting one because, on the one hand, her looking amazing with that bone structure (I would trade a vital organ to look like that any day) is a given, but it does also seem like she went out of her way to do something a bit different this past awards season. I have always loved her street style for its trademark edge and the androgynous, oversized silhouettes that she leans towards, and the overt femininity of her red carpet dresses is that grungy, skater girl aesthetic completely flipped on its head. It’s cute, and if anyone can pull a dress as kitschy as this off, it’s Zoe. She’s got that just rolled out of bed look we all dream of that screams “I’m over this shit” whereas the rest of us have to rely on dark circles to get the message across. It’s very weird to think that she and Shailene Woodley were in Divergent together, especially since Zoe in particular has changed so much since. 

My main note with Shailene was just that I got excited to see that Balmain dress off the runway-it was one of my favourites from the S/S 2020 collection (IIRC, mostly on the basis that I’m pretty sure it wan’t haute couture), and it looks good! Not wildly good because I’m not sure the fit of the dress is inherently all that flattering, but still good-she makes it work.

(L-R: Taylor Swift in Etro, Sofia Carson in Giambattista Valli and Scarlett Johansson in Vera Wang)

I know a lot of people online didn’t seem to like Taylor Swift’s dress, but she looks cute, imo. I will say that I’m surprised it’s Etro! At first glance I would’ve thought Carolina Herrera or Oscar de la Renta or something along those lines. And predictably, I think Sofia Carson looks flawless. If you’ve read any of my other posts you’re probably sick of hearing it but I really can’t resist anything that is this modern Disney princess, like powder pink layered tulle? Feathers? What did you expect me to say, ew? I think deep down my clothing preferences will always be that of a 9 year old girl and you know what, that’s okay. Sometimes. Well, when it comes to red carpets. That’s when you can kinda get away with it.

(L-R: Bell Powley in Miu Miu, Billy Porter in Alex Vinash, and Charlize Theron in Dior)

There’s a few things worth mentioning when it comes to the above outfits. Firstly, and most importantly, I need to proclaim my love for Billy Porter. No man is doing it like him, honestly. To compare Harry Styles in his pink suits is unfair. The drama and the beauty and the flair that Billy brings every awards ceremony is on another level and that’s all I have to say about that. If you disagree, I’m gonna need a bullet pointed essay-I am that firm in my opinion.

Second, Bell Powley in Miu Miu semi confirms the direction their PR team tend to head in when choosing women to work with. I might be totally alone here but I feel like she and Lucy Hale both have one of those porcelain doll faces which work really well with Miu Miu’s signature girlish silhouettes and overly-ornate details. 

And thirdly, just to restate my earlier point: someone give Charlize Theron a pat on the back for bringing some life to a Dior design. That is all.

(L-R: Jodie Comer in Mary Katrantzou, Joey King in Schiaparelli and Kaitlyn Dever in Valentino)

All the newcomers really turned it out too, which is a sentence I type through gritted teeth; to call Jodie Comer of My Mad Fat Diary origins a newcomer pains the former depressing 2013 black and white Tumblr user in me, though I suppose to the US audiences uncultured in the ways of British teenage angst Vilanelle is her breakthrough role. And how Vilanelle is this dress too!? It’s bold and it’s attention-grabbing and it’s fun and it is definitely very theatrical female fictional villain that you were inexplicably drawn to as a child before you realised why as an adult-”oh, it’s because she was hot”. 

Joey King in Iris van Herpen was a pleasant surprise too considering that when I first looked through the red carpet photos I only knew her as the girl who was in that shitty Netflix original-having watched her in The Act, I apologise for the dismissal! And I admire the sartorial choice! I adore Iris van Herpen designs but as a short girl, wearing one of her dresses to a red carpet event is a risky decision-I hate to admit it because casting a diverse range of people for shows is something I have come to expect of my favourite brands, but the appeal of a lot of IvH pieces comes from the movement of the garments on standard willowy runway models. Fortunately, the styling is really complementary here, and whilst it can’t be denied that the dress itself does swamp her a bit, I liked that she and her stylist stepped out of the box. 

Kaitlyn Dever’s red carpet look is obviously a lot more typical, but you can't go wrong with a Valentino dress, and this one in particular is so suited to the aura she gives off-it’s young and it’s fun and it’s fresh and the intricate floral print, otherwise muted if not for the spring influenced pops of pink and red, is timelessly pretty.

(L-R: Akwafina in Dior, Saoirse Ronan in Celine, Beanie Feldstein in Oscar de la Renta, and Renee Zellweger in Armani)

Lastly, there was Saoirse Ronan in Celine-one of my highlights of the night; she looked phenomenal, a glacial toned dream, and it was pretty different to what I generally expect to see her in. I might be way off base and in need of a bit of a review of her red carpet style, but I feel like she usually leans more towards pretty than edgy with regards to her styling at these kinds of events and a loose fitting, gun metal glittered slip dress is, imo, the perfect way to hit that previously uncharted midway point between the two.

(L-R: Kate Bosworth in Prabal Gurung, Kathryn Newton in Valentino and Sarah Hyland)

Now onto the afterparty looks, and I’m not gonna lie, they’re usually the highlight of the ceremonies for me; I feel like the initial ceremony is all about looking respectful and maintaining that whole dedicated actor image, whereas it seems the literal point of these showbiz parties is a competition to be the best dressed person in the room. Competition really makes people step their game up, and we always get to see more young talent whose style tends to be more current than that of the people we see on the red carpet. 

I’ve got to say, as annoying as I found her character in The Society, I have to overlook that gut instinct of irritation when I see Kathryn Newton and accept how stunning everything going on here is; honestly, she looks like an angel, and I feel like the team at Valentino must reeeeally like her to put her in that dress.

(L-R: Alexa Demie, Ashley Benson in Georges Hobeika, Maude Apatow and Barbie Ferreira)

Obviously I was super excited to see the Euphoria girls on the red carpet, especially Alexa Demie-she does 90s/early noughties inspired glamour better than anyone else on the young actor scene right now and her personal style and the sass she does so well as Maddy Perez shines through every time. Whilst Barbie Ferreira’s look is more casual and achievable for the rest of us in terms of wearability, it’s just as interesting a take on the same period; the delicate pink makeup, hair and jewellery with the 90s inspired slip dress in light teal is a red carpet take on soft grunge for the ages. As for Ashley Benson, she always looks gorgeous and that’s all I’m gonna say before I get emotional and start going into a rant about how her and Cara Delevigne’s relationship was one of the only good things about this shitshow of a year and how now that they’ve broken up the single flame of hope inside me has been extinguished and how their sex swing is gonna get so lonely with them caught in the middle of an ugly custody battle and-

You get the idea.

(L-R: Storm Reid, Sophia Bush in John Paul Ataker, and Sydney Sweeney)

(L-R: Billie Lourd, Paris Hilton, and Camila Morrone)

The Oscars

(L-R: Charlize Theron in Dior, Cynthia Erivo, and Florence Pugh in Louis Vuitton)

Ah, the Oscars. This is where the big money is really spent, and bad decisions are made-in fairness, this year’s winners were a lot more satisfying than usual and I think all of us felt that Parasite was a well-deserved win. I really thought it was gonna be Once Upon a Time in Hollywood just as a bit of a token gesture to Tarantino considering it’s his 9th film, though undoubtedly his worst of the ones I’ve seen, so I was relieved that this wasn’t the case. That being said, it still pains me to see the horror genre being ignored by the academy-in my mind, Florence is here for her performance in Midsommar just as much as Little Women. 

At the risk of getting repetitive, just assume my opinions on Charlize Theron in Dior here are the same again, that Cynthia Erivo is still bringing goddess energy (this is probably my favourite of her looks), and that against the opinion of the masses, Florence looks divine in this colour. I mean, when I say the masses I just mean the people I follow on Twitter, but still, I just wanted be an excuse to be dramatic so that I could insert a meme.

(L-R: Natalie Portman in Dior, Regina King in Versace, Scarlett Johansson in Oscar de la Renta, and Sandra Oh in Elie Saab)

Once again, Scarlett Johansson’s stylist is doing God’s work; this outfit is everythingggg-the Oscar de la Renta dress is probably my favourite thus far. Like we’re talking angel, but make it fitted and sexy, and I hope you read that in the Tyra Banks voice I intended because 2 memes in a row would rob me of any credibility I’m building as a fashion account and I’m not ready to trash that for bad memes just yet; give it a couple of mental breakdowns and I’ll be there. Natalie Portman’s look was a favourite of mine too, with the cape over the top adding a sophisticated touch to the celestial, slightly bohemian feel of the dress. I initially found the detail of the names embroidered into said cape to be quite moving-in a dream world, directing would be my career of choice and so I really admired the statement-but finding out that Portman herself is the only director hired by her own production company ruined that for me a little bit. Then again, multi-millionaire celebrities making performative gestures for good publicity and not doing all that much to make any real change? Colour me shocked.

(L-R: Beanie Feldstein in Miu Miu, Brie Larson in Celine and Billie Eilish in Chanel)

Now, of all the Miu Miu looks so far, I think Beanie Feldstein definitely got the best one. The intricacy of the embroidery, the silhouette, the old Hollywood stye curls-it’s all so graceful. I’d say this is probably her best look of awards season and she and her stylist did a really great job.

And as for Billie Eilish...Guys...do you think she might be wearing...Chanel...by any chance? I’m not sure.

Seriously though, as far as an oversized tweed suit with the brand’s logo emblazoned all over it goes, I like this look. The acid green roots and the jewellery are what make it for me, adding to the grunginess of the outfit which is interesting against Chanel’s prim and proper aesthetic of the last few years. I know she has good reason for the way she dresses, but I’ve never quite been able to appreciate it-this outfit proves to me that her style doesn't automatically equal ugly and occasionally, she can make it work.

(L-R: Leona Lewis, Colton Haynes, Dita von Teese)

Elton John’s Oscars afterparty being the less exciting of the two big ones in terms of fashion-the other being the Vanity Fair afterparty which I’ll cover in a moment-I thought I’d whizz through it (posturing aside though, I bet Sir Elton’s party was a lot more fun).

(L-R: Chiara Ferragni, Donatella Versace, Bella Thorne)

This is a big statement considering Alexa Demie attended, but I think Chiara’s outfit and overall styling might be my favourite of the partygoers; if they decided to do a live action Barbie film in 2020 minus the PG ratio-because lets be real, she’d be a noughties Paris Hilton type and get up to some SHENANIGANS-this is the look that would become iconic. 

(L-R: Ashley Greene in Off-White, Alexa Demie, Sydney Sweeney, Annalynne McCord)

It was a hard decision to make though: I’m just as into Sydney Sweeney’s interpretation of burlesque come 1950s red carpet Barbie, Ashley Greene’s surprisingly delicate Off-White number, and Alexa’s dress and (as always) impeccable styling. That being said, Chiara’s clearest contender here for the best dressed of the night is Annalynne McCord. I know I'm one to throw similes around but she looks like an ACTUAL Disney princess-the dress is magical and an absolutely flawless fit. She carries it with such grace. I'm truly in love.

(L-R: Tessa Thompson in Versace, Vanessa Hudgens in Vera Wang, SZA)

As for the Vanity Fair Oscars afterparty, there were SO many iconic moments this year. SZA was the definition of the fire emoji, Tessa Thompson’s throwback Versace was the mermaid’s take on BDSM fashion I never knew I need to see, and I’d die to turn up to my graduation ceremony (here’s hoping for a successful attempt at the old uni shebang this time, lol) looking as elegant and simultaneously extra as Vanessa Hudgens did in Vera Wang. I mean, this was before Vanessa went on her dumb Instagram live corona rant because she was upset she couldn’t go to Coachella and I still kinda lived for her, mostly because of moments like this. She’s always been the queen of channelling a more hedonistic, carefree era and this dress is the most refined example of that boho decadence yet. It sounds dramatic to say but the rich purple is such a bold choice considering it’s a a colour we rarely see on the red carpet but now I’ve seen eggplant coloured silk I need it, lol. 

(L-R: Suki Waterhouse in Fendi, Lili Reinhart in Marc Jacobs, Lucy Boynton and Margaret Qualley in Chanel)

Then there was Suki, Lilly, Lucy and Margaret as well who all went full angel mode in some of my favourite runway looks of last summer’s haute couture week; Suki’s Fendi dress and Lili’s Marc Jacobs number were highlights of both their shows and there’s something even more magical about them both when the uniformity of the runway is removed. I also would go on about how much I love Lucy Boynton’s style for the millionth time but I think you get my point.

(L-R: Nicole Richie, Cynthia Erivo, Hunter Schafer, Billie Porter)

The more I look at the photos I saved from the Vanity Fair “red” carpet, the more I come to the firm conclusion that these looks are my favourite as a collective. Along with the elegance and sex appeal of the outfits above, we’ve got all these looks too which are so VIBRANT and fun and experimental. Billie Porter is absolutely majestic and continues his reign as the king of in-your-face, theatrical red carpet style, and Hunter and Cynthia look so radiant. Whilst Nicole’s look isn’t as colourful, she still brought drama with the satin gloves and the smoke lined eyes, and she is definitely ready to step on someone’s neck here.

(L-R: Halima Aden, Ella Balinska in Schiaparelli, Emma Roberts, Ciara)

(L-R: Kiki Layne in Michael Kors, Kim Kardashian in Alexander McQueen, Kylie Jenner in Ralph and Russo, Lashana Lynch in Michael Kors)

(L-R: Rowan Blanchard in Iris van Herpen, Rosie Huntington-Whiteley, Stella Maxwell, and Sarah Paulson with Holland Taylor)

I’ve got to say, it’s really cool to see Rowan Blanchard in Iris van Herpen too; it’s interesting that as far as I know, she and Joey King were the only ones to wear her this awards season, both being up and coming actresses. It would be a good choice for the brand, probably best known for its futuristic, conceptual aesthetic, to also focus its PR efforts on the young potential inheriting that future. Orrrr it could just be that Rowan, Joey and I have the same (good, lol) taste-not gonna lie, from my experience of stalking her instagram Rowan Blanchard does make some unique fashion choices and her feed is full of bold outfit inspiration.

(L-R: Adriana Lima in Ralph and Russo, Alessandra Ambrosio in Armani, Billie Eilish in Gucci, and Donatella Versace in Versace)

Then there’s Billie Eilish, who is really on another level. This is her second custom made baggy suit of the night, this time Gucci. IMAGINE. Chanel and Gucci making custom pieces to suit your very specific style. Again, though, I really like this; whilst it’s very clearly a Billie outfit, it’s got a level of sophistication, cohesiveness and glamour to it that takes it to that I can admire. 

(L-R: Camila Mendes in Moschino, Barbara Palvin and Dylan Sprouse, and Chiara Ferragni)

Honestly, the Vanity Fair red carpet really belonged to young talent this year, and Camila Mendes in one of my favourite Moschino looks from the Picasso collection really seals it. She could’ve just gone for a basic pretty dress-this isn’t a natural choice-but she really does have the proud, regal look of a woman who knows some man is gonna paint her a portrait that will end up in a famous gallery one day. 

One last thing before I move on, though. How the fuck does Chiara Ferragni get everywhere?! And by that I don’t mean how does she get invited, I had the shock of finding out this woman I followed on Instagram because I liked her outfits and thought she was pretty is a hugely successful businesswoman in Italy long ago. Power to her. She’s a big deal! I get it! I just mean, physically HOW? How do you hit Elton John’s party AND the Vanity Fair party in one night and look this good? God really does have favourites, huh. Well, I guess in this hypothetical scenario where I believe in him anyway. 

The SAG Awards

(L-R: Dakota Fanning in Valentino, Kaitlyn Dever in Ralph Lauren, Scarlett Johansson in Armani, and Zoe Kravitz in Oscar de la Renta)

So, I kinda forgot the SAG awards existed and thought that my post was basically finished before I looked in my folder and saw the one dedicated to this ceremony. My initial reaction was like “oh, this is the shitty Oscars, right?” and I assumed the red carpet would be shit and that I could call it a night-it’s 3:30am, I wish I was calling it a night-but then I looked and saw that I had even more outfit photos saved in that folder than I did for my Oscar dedicated one. Because fuck, I want to to sleep, but the SAG awards had a surprisingly good turn out?! So maybe not as irrelevant a ceremony as I thought? Because Dakota Fanning turned up looking like some divine mythical being again, Scarlett Johansson pulled another incredible look out the bag, Zoe Kravitz was a modernised Audrey Hepburn, and Kaitlyn Dever read my comments about her dress being “timelessly pretty” and said “bitch, you really thought” before showing up looking hot as fuck. Truth be told, I think the SAG awards were first but in this universe where Kaitlyn Dever would pay any attention to my opinion of her outfit do we really care? 

(L-R: America Ferrera, Andrew Scott in Azzaro Couture, Camila Mendes in Ralph and Russo, Caleb McLaughlin )

(L-R: Lupita Nyongo in Louis Vuitton, Lily Allen, Nathalie Emmanuel in Miu Miu, Cynthia Erivo in Schiaparelli)

See, I was going to make a comment above how I took back what I said about Camila Mendes not just going for pretty dresses (which I guess I just did here instead-JUST TO BE CLEAR SHE STILL LOOKS STUNNING) and then I uploaded the next photo set and got distracted by 2 things:

1. How weird it is that British legend Lily Allen, who does not get NEAR enough credit for her smart her songs were might I add, is dating David Harbour AKA. Hopper off Stranger Things!?

2. How mad I still am about Game of Thrones and how dirty the writers did Nathalie Emmanuel (and Emilia Clarke and Lena Heady and Nikolaj Coster-Waldau and basically everyone else on that show but that’s another story).

In this same universe where Kaitlyn Dever cares about my opinion can we make the issues I have in the last bullet point not exist? Please?

(L-R: Sophie Turner in Louis Vuitton, Renee Zellweger in Maison Margiela, Phoebe Waller-Bridge in Armani, and Renee Bargh)

(L-R: Gwendoline Christie in Rick Owens, Madeline Brewer in Monique Lhuillier, Kathryn Newton in Valentino, and Lili Reinhart in Miu Miu)

Finishing off the SAG looks, we’ve got the four above. 

Once again, Kathryn Newton was Valentino’s blushing crown jewell; Allie Pressman hate aside, she really is the perfect dressing up doll for the brand. Fresh faced and poised, she has all the elegance and gentle femininity necessary to make floating down the runway as Valentino models do look natural, and Lili Reinhart did an equally good job being a Miu Miu girl. She makes that idiosyncratic cutesy-ness work, all the frills and fragility of a china tea set look easy where I’d just look like I’d been consumed by a charity shop doily. Madeline Brewer did a good job too, helping a Monique Lhuillier design pop in a way that it doesn’t usually. When your hair is bright red and your dress cerulean blue, coral tinted lipstick is a *ahem* choice, buuut in this case it paid off because the result is a look which demanded my attention-ML dresses are reliably pretty, however, they tend to be predictable. Madeline and her styling did a good job subverting that formula. To end the section, though, I feel it’s only fair to save my fave woman til last-probably one of the few people in the world that isn’t a Rick Owens model that can pull off his designs. Ofc, I’m talking about the queen that is Gwendoline Christie. If we’re talking embodying brands, she did justice like nobody else could to the spectacle of Owens’ formidable, out-of-this-world aesthetic. This is her version of the princess moment, and when you’re as striking as she is, nothing less would do. 

At least my girl Brienne of Tarth is thriving<3

The Grammys

(L-R: Ariana Grande in Giambattista Valli, Cardi B in Mugler, and Pia Mia in Julien Macdonald)

TBH, like I said with the Brits, I never planned to do any music award ceremony red carpets, just because I feel like the fashion tends to be more geared towards a younger audience buuuut I’m kinda glad I changed because Ariana looks INCREDIBLE. MESMERISING. TRANSCENDENT. JFC. There’s a reason the photo of her on her Wiki page has been changed to one from this night and it’s because she looks absolutely exquisite, like some kind of moon goddess with an R&B touch which I suppose is kind of her brand? Sometimes I go kind of lukewarm on Giambattista Valli and forget how mystical but at the same time frothy and indulgent and all around luxurious the pieces can be. This is a cupcake of a dress and I want to eat it. Cardi B has become a bit of an unexpected fashion icon and Pia Mia looks as hot-party-girl as ever but I feel to put anyone next to Ariana in this dress seems harsh because she just completely stole the show and I don’t even know if she won any Grammys.

(L-R: Josephine Relli, Gwen Stefani, Jameela Jamil in Georges Chakra, and Chrissy Teigen in Yanina Couture)

Other than Ariana, I’m not gonna lie, there was nothing wildly exciting, BUT I did think there were some beautiful colours out on the runway-plus for all her occasionally bad takes I really like what Jameela Jamil stands for and her style has always been very quirky cool. The electric blue tiled effect with the black mesh underneath kinda reminds me of a peacock, and contrasts wonderfully with the carpet-it’s very reminiscent of her T4 days. She’s one of those people that seems to get aggression directed at her that’s completely disproportionate to whatever it is she’s supposed to have done; sometimes the way she goes about saying things is wrong but the intention behind what she’s saying is usually good. Then again, the internet still despises Chrissy Teigen (in a way that’s kind of excessive considering what we seem to collectively let some people get away with) for a dumb AirPods tweet and I’ve included her too. THIS IS NOT A POLITICAL STATEMENT, this time anyway. I just think she looks good!

If I’m going to get controversial about anything, it’ll be Gwen Stefani. She looks stunning, the dress is stunning, and the boots are stunning. The outfit is not my problem! My problem is how she seems not to have aged at all. This woman is 50 years old! That she drank the blood of her Harajuku girls is the only explanation here. Can you imagine if she tried to pull that shit today? She’d get rightly accused of being a culturally appropriating weeb in about 10 seconds flat and we’d have to pretend to stop liking Cool and Hollaback Girl. 

(L-R: Finneas O’Connell in Gucci, Lucky Daye, and Shaun Ross)

(L-R: Tess Holliday, Dua Lipa in Alexander Wang, Tyler the Creator, and Grace Elizabeth in Giuseppe di Morabito)

Back to what I’m supposed to be talking about in this blog post: the fashion. And here, most importantly, Tyler the Creator looking like a cast member of the Grand Budapest Hotel. IDK why. But I love this man.

(L-R: Lil Nas X in Versace, Lizzo in Versace, and Shawn Mendes in Louis Vuitton)

(L-R: Billie Porter, FKA Twigs in Ed Marler, and Swae Lee in Giuseppe Zanotti)

See in general, the men were a lot more interesting on the Grammys red carpet. With the exception of Twigs, Dua and obviously Ariana, the men’s outfits are a lot more memorable; Billie Porter became the most fashionable meme on the internet, for god’s sake. And even when their outfits weren’t extravagant, they were just more interesting, imo, which is a rare occurrence. I didn’t expect Finneas O’Connell to be the writing half of Billie Eilish (the other half being Billie herself) I cared about and yet, in that Gucci blazer, here we are. 

(L-R: Jessie J, Hailee Steinfeld, and Madison Beer)

(L-R: H.E.R, Usher, FKA Twigs, and Matt Shultz)

Of the afterparty looks, my favourites are what we can see of these more casual outfits-I love what F.K.A Twigs and H.E.R are wearing, the headscarf with the leatherjacket on top is in particular very throwback rockabilly, and I’m even into whatever it is Usher’s got on.

(L-R: Olivia O’Brien, Amine, and Alrissa)

(L-R: Salem Mitchell, Machine Gun Kelly, and Sydney Sweeney)

Now, how to round this all up!? How to relate the confusingly persistent but very welcome presence of Sydney Sweeney on, like, ALL these red carpets back to the MET!?

IDEK. It’s been a long year. 

The Met Gala has usually come and gone before we know it, but with everything going on, it’s been the longest January-May I think most of us have ever known. I keep going on about COVID-19 in all my posts now but I have almost forgotten how to write an intro and outro because the pandemic is pretty much consistently on the brain and unless I have something right in front of me to use as a distraction, my mind tends to wander off into a very anxious place. I think, like many others, I feel frustrated and disappointed and angry with the way the situation is being handled by the people who are supposed to protect their citizens, and by how much of a fight some are putting up against measures that are in place to try and save lives. The point of this ramble, I guess, is that whilst we should never forget what’s going on and do the best we can to help prevent the spread of the virus, it’s okay to still care about mundane shit. Was this post one big long distraction for me? Probably. But if there’s something harmless you can do to keep your anxiety at bay, don’t feel bad for doing it. Contrary to popular belief, you can care about more than one thing at once. You can be sad that something you were looking forward to has been cancelled whilst still being sad for the people who are suffering because they’ve lost love ones or who have been forced into precarious living conditions. If talking about clothes on the internet is going to help you get through this pandemic, power to you.

If anyone has read til the end, thank you! I hope you are well! As always, feel free to reply to the post or inbox me with your thoughts! It doesn’t even have to be related to this post. If you’re struggling with everything going on, feel free to reach out too. I spend too much time on the internet anyway, lol! My plans are to finish my fashion week reviews and then I have a Lana Del Rey albums inspired lookbook which I pinched off the stans on Twitter (who I will of course credit when I write it!). For the time being, look after yourselves!

Lauren x

[borisbubbles]

28. ITALY

Diodato - “Fai Rumore”

And we’re back to our usual disconnect, where everyone pretends to love Italy and I don’t. I cannot wait for all the Italian crazies to be OUTRAGED by this ranking (28/41 is fine for an entry I don’t care about...?) and reblog this all over the tumblrverse and inflate my reader stats. 😈 but first, let’s discuss what we have on our hands here. 

Song Analysis

There’s no way this post *won’t* end up offensive to every Fai Rumore fan, so I will resort to brutal honesty. I never, ever, *ever* cared about “Fai rumore”. In fact, I’d even say it’s strongly overrated by the gross of the Eurovision fandom? 

Okay so here’s the deal. I will not deny that “Fai Rumore” has several things going for it. The song has emotional gravitas, Diodato has a great voice and acts very well. It’s technically precise and well produced. It is very competent at what it sets out to be, which is a very standard HQ Sanremo Power Ballad. 

But here’s where I feel like I deviate from the norm: You may think “wow Fai Rumore! How brilliant, meticulous and poised”, but I think “how expected, overtly earnest and unfun?” 

The problem is, this is Boris’s Bubble and Boris doesn’t enjoy songs that feel like they belong inside a trophy cupboard, and “Fai rumore” is exactly one of those songs, don’t lie. So “meticulous, poised and brilliant” you say, well *I* say “how overtly earnest, unfun and aloof”? I have a Spotify - if I wanted to listen to good music, I’d just use that? Or one of my like 15 Youtube Playlists containing non-ESC entries? Why would I watch Eurovision, or Sanremo for that matter, for the good music when there are so many other (and easier) options available for me that align better to my tastes?

The fact that “Fai Rumore” is *too* perfect for me (and therefore very hard to empathize with imo) is one thing, which leads to other thing I need to point out. I’ll let my friend Matthew take over here, who wrote this paragraph on ESCUnited right after Diodato’s selection: 

That final sentences is bone-chilling because it’s so, so true. “I AM A SOPHISTICATED MUSIC FAN BECAUSE I FOLLOW ~FESTIVALE DI SANREMO~” is such a common trope of elistism (like, replace “San Remo” with any quality newspaper, nobel prize winning author or classical music composer and you’ll find to be nearly universally applicable to snobs across the globe), but I find it specifically ugly in Eurovision.

You see, would the same courtesy be extended to a country of lower prestige if they got a Fai Rumore? Would the same courtesy be extended to a person of colour? or a woman? How about others songs that, like Fai Rumore, emulate their country’s musical traditions (Fai Rumore is SO italian you can smell the basil), except those traditions fall outside of the western European bubble? See, it doesn’t bother me that Italians like Fai Rumore and are proud of it. They’re Italians. Of course they are! I don’t judge them for it. I don’t rly care if the odd introvert finds solace in a song of this calibre. But as soon as Matthew made the aforementioned post, people who had previously rated Diodato as a 5/6 already started adjusting their scores to 10s and 12s and, well...

It bothers me that the same fanbase that DEMANDS cultural diversity (Diodato) and/or MOAR ETHNOBOPS (Efendi) refuse to accept a Solovey or an Origo -which are a thousandfold more layered, sophisticated and daring- as an equal. 

It bothers *even more* me that people are willing to immediately give Italy a plethora of chances (especially when they choose men! fuck institutionalised sexism!), while not doing the same for a Belarus. Belarus HAS no clear musical scene or funds to really produce good music, yet produced a ridiculously good NF (with a VERY righteous winner - yes, Chakras, but also: Chakras) I’ve seen snobs SLAM VAL, mercilessly despite being an excellent left-field pick (god imagine if Yan had won Eurofest for a sec. What a nightmare). Italy, otoh, also delivered a sterling NF, have *a VERY* rich musical tradition, tons of talent and money and production value... and they still went the lowest common denominator available, and yet they receive praise, without so much as a whisper of protest from our so-called “value seekers”. This level of hypocrisy and double standard wielding, all in the name of wishing to be taken seriously delivers *such* a toxic undercurrent to Eurovision and has absolutely soured me on Diodato. This isn’t his fault, but sadly he’s become a weapon of mass misconstruction and well just because I hate the guy who pressed the big red button more doesn’t mean I automatically like ICBMs. As we come near the songs I actually give a damn’ about, I will start calling the shitpociries out. Brace yourself for it, when I rank Solovey and Da Vidna inside my top five.

Want some examples specifically pertaining to the Diodato fandom? Sure, I’ll give you some:

EJEMPLO UNO: 

Diodato fanboys openly coddling him on social media post-lockdown all “PROTECT OUR POOR MUNCHKIN FROM THE CORONAVIRUS”. Like... he’s a *thirty-eight year old adult* he can take care of himself, BACK UP OFF HIM you freaks. 

EJEMPLO DOS: 

The relevant media having baptized Diodato as THE SAVING GRACE OF THE LOCKDOWN, ITALIANS SINGING ‘FAI RUMORE’ FROM THEIR BALCONIES IN DEFIANCE OF COVID-19, which is such a bullshit narrative it’s turned my hair from black to brown.  Yes, the Italians sang “Fai Rumore”. What they don’t tell you is that they also sang many other Italian and non-Italian songs, including humanitarian anthem “Roar” by Kety Perr (cue to Katy Perry being like “OMG I’M SO HONORED TO INSPIRE SO MANY ITALIANS ::hungarianflagemoji::” on twitter.). CNN Like, Eurovision related media LOVE portraying it as a ~life-chaning confort anthem~ - the reality is that “Fai rumore”, while playing its part, was merely a tiny spoke in a giant wheel. 

EJEMPLO QUATRO:

Well take a look at how many people will reblog this post and slam it for daring to point out, what I think are really obvious truths to anyone who doesn’t suffer from musical myopia. 

In the end, the song is okay and it’s okay to love it. But if you ‘love’ it because you’ve convinced yourself that you must, and not because it genuinely means something to you, I don’t think you have grounds to criticise to criticise anyone but yourself.

NF Corner

As I said, I didn’t follow San Remo live (I never do! *gasp* blasphemy, I know), but I did plan to check it for this write-up except RAI deleted every live performance? And they won’t let me embed the few remaining vids either? 

Anyway, this happened so right-click-open this a new tab and then return once you’ve finished it. 

Backstage feuds being fought out LIVE on the stage in front of millions of viewers 😍 Apparently Morgan and Bugo were at loggerheads for a while, and had a massive row RIGHT before their performance on the second night, which caused Morgan to stray from the script and sing all the insulting things Bugo told him *to Bugo* instead of the actual lyrics of their duet. 😍 😍 😍 Bugo IMMEDIATELY stormed off the stage to the point where Amadeus had to like... literally tell the gobsmacked audience that Bugo had left the building 😍 😍 😍. This is some god-tier pettiness and I’m completely in awe of it. DEITIES. 😍

aside from Sincerogate, I would’ve embedded vidoes that contained the DRAMA (Rancore), CAMP (Achille) and UNABASHED WEIRDNESS (Levante) of this year’s line-up, but I guess RAI really doesn’t like for people to have fun. Oh well. 

Italy 2020 vs Italy 2021

Diodato is male and Italian, so yeah, guaranteed top 10 in Rotterdam, no matter what happens. Search your feelings, you know it to be true. Cynicism aside, televoters WOULD have flocked to it without thinking twice (for exactly those two reasons), passing over many better entries in the process and well... I’m tired and exhausted and I think you can guess I am not very impressed by this likely outcome. 

Not sure what RAI’s strategy for 2021 is (lol it’s RAI - they don’t have a strategy. besides Italy have bigger fish to fry than the Eurovision Song Contest as you know), but I’m not very invested either way. I could imagine them internally selecting Diodato if he’s willing to do ESC in 2021, but if this was a one-off deal (which I think it was), they will probably select another plain white bloke for you to obsess over, so no worries :-) #TuttoVaPene

FREAKY! FRIDAY! FACTOR!

I’m sort of conflicted? On one hand, god Fai Ru*snore* is SO typical of “Italy in Eurovision”, not just from a musical perspective but from a point of reverence as well. On to the other hand, when are the fanbases *not* acting insane w/r/t Italy?

San Remo was  really crazy this year, enough for me to award Italy a couple Senheads. However... if I wanted to see nice and inoffensive triumph over a bunch of deranged, gimmicky, ott masterpieces, I’d just rewatch #London1977? (offensive take #16: “people that like Marie Myriam the most in 1977 do not understand Eurovision”) Ehhhh whatevs.

Score: 2 Senhits out of 5. 

[youllallriseintheink]

Like it Never Happened: Chapter 3.

This is a post ink-hell story, and contrary to its title, a major theme in it is that a return to normalcy is an uphill climb, often requiring one redefine what normalcy means to them.

This chapter focuses on Thomas Connor and Allison Pendle. It deals with some of the mechanics of how the trapped souls are making it out. There may be a fourth or possibly fifth chapter, but I’m not sure.

Jennifer Adams, one of the soldiers tasked with the rescue of the dozens of people whose souls were locked within the sketch dimension, had fucked up big time. To be more specific, she’d shot Allison Angel.

Not that shooting ink creatures in general was a big deal- you couldn’t collect an ink creature’s soul without killing them- but in Allison’s case, she and her partner, Peter Felman, should have been making a good rapport with her. While they were free to capture the souls in any order they found them, their first priority was to locate and bring back the soul of Thomas Connor, a mechanic who had been indispensable in designing and building the machine, and would no doubt be a valuable source of information on it. In Jennifer’s defense, another Alice had broken her last partner’s arm and put him out of commission just days before, not to mention all the trouble she’d caused back when they were solely tasked with finding the souls of lost ones, as the government research branch only recently discovered how to bring back those who were transformed into cartoons.

Right after she’d shot her, Peter had instinctively taken out the seeing tool in order to see her soul, and had snatched it up and put it into a small glass jar. Then, realizing whose soul they’d just snatched, he opened the jar and let it flow back to the ink machine, as all souls did down here.

All Jennifer could hope for now is that they could get the angel to speak using torture. She and Peter had been waiting by the ink machine for a few hours, playing cards, when it finally gurgled to life.

The two soldiers got up from their card game, Peter taking a rope with him. Allison came out slowly- it was almost like seeing a person be 3D-printed. Peter was incredible with knots, and her calves (already kicking!) were tied together within seconds of their appearance from the machine’s nozzle. Half a minute later, she fell to the ground, and Peter was tying up her arms as Jennifer held her down.

“Let me go! Why are you doing this?” she yelled, still struggling against the ropes, teeth gritted.

“Sorry about this, but we need to make sure you won’t run away or attack us. We aren’t here to hurt you. We are soldiers working for the US military, and we are the reason why there are no lost ones in this world anymore. We released them all. They are currently living outside this dimension, in a better, safer world. We understand that you’re very close with a Boris named ‘Tom.’ Is that true?”

“Why should I trust you or tell you anything?” Her tone was more curious than anything. At very least, she’d calmed down surprisingly quickly.

“I’d like for you to do that because we’re offering you a way out. But if you want to do things the hard way, we can.” Jennifer took out her handgun and pointed it to Allison kneecap.

“Wait-” Allison interjected, “What is that?”

“A gun.”

“No... I mean its colour. It’s like black, but lighter, and... and cooler somehow. I think Henry told me about this once. Is it blue?”

Jennifer kept the gun trained at her knee. “Yes. Now are you talking or are we going to have to make you talk?”

“I’ll talk. I don’t know how I didn’t see this before! You’re so detailed... and your hair almost matches my skin- just like Henry. You must be from the outside. Whatever you need to know, I’ll tell you!”

“Where is Tom?”

“He’s probably in our safehouse. It’ll be easier if I show you.”

Jennifer looked over to her partner, and they silently agreed to untie her legs. They followed behind her, guns still drawn, her sword still confiscated, her hands still bound.

“Do you mind if I ask a few more questions as we walk?” Allison asked.

“I can’t guarantee that I’ll be able to answer them, but go ahead,” Jennifer replied.

“Well, I know that you’re letting everyone go, but aside from Tom, there’s one case that I was hoping you could focus on. You see, one of the people turned into a cartoon character is... well, a 17-year-old kid. Tom and I found the book he wrote. We tried finding him a couple times, but came up empty. I hate to think about him, all alone in this dangerous place. If I give you the book, can you promise me to try and find him quickly, and to let me know when he’s revived and reunited with his mother?”

“Well, not all of that is my directive, but I can promise you that I’ll try to find him, and that I’ll ask the appropriate people about the rest of that stuff.”

Allison’s whole face lit up. “Thank you! Oh, thank you. And for releasing us, too. I would be hugging you if I weren’t walking you through dangerous territory with my hands tied up!”

Jennifer smiled. She’d had a lot of encounters with ink creatures, but she’d never been thanked before. She’d never even been able to explain their aims before.

“Next question: am I poor? Buddy made being poor sound pretty bad. But, I don’t remember anything about the life I had before this. I... did have one, right? It seems like all toons did... right?”

“Well, almost all- and trust me, you’re not an exception. Memory loss is extremely common among ink creatures- they have ways of getting everything back. You’re Allison Connor, the wife of Thomas Connor. I don’t know anything else about you- I was just told enough to get through this mission. But I imagine that his work puts you above the poverty line, anyhow.”

Allison had apparently forgotten all about matters of poverty and spent the rest of their short trip gushing about being married to Thomas.

Once they reached the safehouse, Allison kept Tom from tearing their throats out and told him the good news. The room was quickly filled with feelings of celebration and camaraderie. They handed Jennifer a book entitled, “Dreams Come to Life.” Then, when their inky backs were turned, Jennifer and Peter filled Tom and Allison with bullets and collected their souls. It had been nice to be honest for once, but they couldn’t have been too honest about the process of coming back to life. Afterwards they immediately headed back to the surface to hand Thomas Connor’s soul over to the researchers, as had been their protocol.

---

A day later, Thomas Connor fell out of the ink machine, landing on his feet. The blue mat he’d fallen onto told him what had happened before he could even look at his detailed, brown, ungloved hands. Thomas collapsed to the floor, overwhelmed with relief.

Over the next few hours, Thomas filled the researchers in on everything he knew about the machine. They told him plenty as well- for starters, that Allison would come out of the machine the next day and would be entirely restored and ready to go home, and that they would immediately see about contacting Buddy’s mother. They found him a place to sleep for the night, handed him a pamphlet on his new body, and he was on his way.

Everything was fine now. Thomas had spent over a decade stewing in guilt over what damage his machine could have possibly caused, and he’d spent a year and a half seeing it first hand- the lives cut short and locked in this hellish landscape. That was over now. The damage was going to be repaired the best it could be. Who knew- maybe the government would even find a beneficial use for the ink machine: bringing back endangered species, making prosthetic limbs... there were obvious bad uses for it, too, but hey, none of it would be his fault. The ink machine was no longer on his shoulders, and soon, he and Allison would be back in their lovely California home, going back to their mundane, contented lives.

Then, the phone rang. Thomas picked it up. “Hello?”

“Hello. Is this Thomas Connor?” The voice sounded sympathetic. Bad sign.

“Yes.”

There was a heavy sigh. “I’m afraid I have two pieces of bad news. Firstly, Buddy’s mother died several years ago. He has no living family members.”

“Okay,” Thomas said, voice low. Well, he knew that not all the damage he’d done could be undone. The kid had lost the time he could have had with his mother. Fair. “What’s the second part?”

“We won’t be able to bring back Allison’s memories. Usually disentangling the individual from their other presence- in this case an Alice Angel toon- brings everything right back. Well, we did, but she still doesn’t remember anything from before her sacrifice. Her memories weren’t stored away where she couldn’t find them- they’re gone like erased marker off a whiteboard. I’m sorry. We have social workers who could hook her up with a living relative, if you want. Do you still want to take her home with you?”

“Of course I do!” Thomas yelled, furious both at the situation and at the question. “She’s my wife! She was my wife in the sketch dimension, and she’ll still be my wife now!” With that, Thomas slammed the phone down. Of course Joey would have taken this from him. He was sure that it was nothing personal- he had a sense that Allison had known things even he didn’t about that machine. Still, it hurt.

But, all they could do was try to carry on. The next day, Thomas watched Allison emerge from the ink machine. He was the first thing she saw in the real world.

“Hey, Allison. This is Tom.”

Allison stared at him a moment. “You aren’t Tom. I would remember my own husband- I don’t know who you are.”

Thomas nodded. “Yeah. You aren’t getting your memories back. I’ll explain why later. But anyhow, let’s go home.

It had been too long since he’d seen her true form. And Allison seemed to like it, too. The two of them flew back to California soon after. Thankfully, Allison did at least seem to remember most things about how the world worked- perhaps due to Alice, who’d had her memories of living in her cartoon world to draw on. What’s more, their house was still waiting for them- apparently Allison’s relatives hadn’t or had only recently given up the hunt for them. Eighteen months of dust covered all the surfaces, and the plants in the garden had all either overgrown or died, but Thomas was still grateful that they had been gone more briefly than most and could pick up their lives more easily. There was so much to do- relatives to call and say, “hey, I’m alive!” to topped the list. But that could wait until tomorrow. Today, it was late. As the two settled into bed, Allison said,

“Hey. I know this is going to take a lot of patience from you. But I’m going to try to be just like Allison was, alright? Tell me about her tomorrow. She has a nice body, and good taste in homes and husbands. That’s a good start.”

Thomas laughed a little. “Sure. Glad you like what she has, since you can’t exactly trade. I’ll do my best, too, with the readjusting. That’s a promise.”

[beeexx]

I said I was going to write a Boreo fic. And well I struggled but then I wrote something at least ! This has been edited by the one and only @flying-elliska who as usual is on my ass about commas and full stops. But without her none of my writing would see the light of the day, so thaaannk you!

The fic can also be read on AO3 

Enjoy!

-------------- It’s early Saturday morning, the sun shining in through the window. It paints the room in a soft glowing colour. Theo is awake, and for once so is Boris. Boris is looking at him and it makes Theo feel self conscious.

“What?”

Boris shrugs, but slowly, very slowly reaches forward. Theo’s eyes automatically fall shut, he knows what’s coming. But Boris doesn’t kiss him like he’s expecting him to. He leans forward and rests his forehead on Theo’s. He hums. Theo’s hand finds Boris’ hair. It’s soft, like the way it is in the mornings, before Boris gets up and spends time on it. Boris’s eyes close and Theo smiles at the sight. He likes this the best, the two of them, alone. When it’s quiet and the world is not fully awake yet. He likes existing then. It reminds him of Antwerp in many ways. Of not leaving bed for days straight, of existing there. In a world that didn’t really feel real until they made it real. And that landed them here in a small apartment in New York. And now it’s an ordinary Saturday morning where Theo has nowhere to be. Boris places a kiss on Theo’s upper lip, it brings Theo back from his wandering thoughts. 

“You’re still staring.”

“Thinking.”

“Of?”

Boris shrugs. Theo leaves him. Sometimes it’s like that, Boris off in his own world. He’s a talker usually, but he’s a thinker too. Theo knows. Maybe they both are.

But he gets impatient and tilts his head slightly forward, asking for Boris to kiss him. Boris’s lip twitches, but he obeys. It’s been a while since Antwerp. It’s been even longer since Vegas. And Theo doesn’t have many coherent memories of kissing Boris then. He’s not even sure they ever did. Apart from when he was leaving. But Antwerp, it brought the change. In many different ways. It was slightly awkward at first. So many years apart with no touch that it was like they didn’t know each other at all. So that’s what they did. Re-learned what it was like to be close again. Mapping out each other’s bodies, kissing until their lips were sore. And barely leaving the bed for days straight. And now kissing has a new meaning. Kissing has always felt foreign to Theo. Like he doesn’t know what he is supposed to do, how he is supposed to feel. He didn’t realise it was supposed to feel like this. But he understands now. And the truth is he’s been missing out. He hums and tightens his grip in Boris’s hair, wanting him closer, closer still. Boris strokes his cheek and moves, slowly forward to get a better angle. The pace quickens without feeling hurried, like they have all the time in the world. Boris’s hand leaves his cheek and travels down. It finds the hem of Theo’s shirt, asking for permission. Theo nods against Boris’s lip and bites down playfully. Boris snorts but gets the shirt off. His hand rests on Theo’s waist and Theo disentangles himself, for a second only, to get Boris’s shirt off too. Once it’s on the floor somewhere he pulls Boris closer. Sometimes he feels like he can never be close enough to him. He wants to feel all of him. Bury himself there and stay. 

-----------

Boris is dozing off. Theo knows he’s awake though, for now. His hand is in his hair, stroking. Theo’s resting his head on his chest, listening to his heart. He looks at the tattoo, just under Boris’s heart. A Goldfinch. Boris’s hand stills, his breathing slowing. Theo smiles. His fingers find Boris’s ribs, he starts stroking. He can feel the unevenness of a scar there but it’s been covered up by a tattoo. It’s in russian, but Theo knows it says Alive. He doesn’t know the meaning of it though. He’s never really thought to ask. Boris has many tattoos but Theo likes them all, it fits him. Individually they tell a story about who Boris have been, where he’s been and how he’s been throughout his life. And together they make up all the small, different, and mysterious pieces that make him Boris. Boris has a T on one of his knuckles. It’s small, but it’s there. Theo’s kissed him there many times, like a homage to when they were young. When Boris had kissed his bloody knuckles. Now it’s not violent though. Not like it always used to be. Not like their touches always were imbued by. They were soft at times, but it always carried a rushing sensation to them, and the violence always came sooner or later. Now it’s always with care. Always with want. 

Theo reaches forward and places a kiss to Boris’s Alive tattoo. Boris twitches and Theo repeats the motion. His fingers tighten in Theo’s hair. Awake. Theo doesn’t stop, he kisses again and then lets his tongue continue the motion. He moves higher up, kissing and licking as he goes. He stops by the goldfinch and Boris hums. He gives him a moment. But only that. And then he kisses Boris’s heart again and again and again until Boris groans.

“Potter…” There is a warning there. Theo smirks and doesn’t stop. Boris opens his eyes and finally rolls them over. Theo grounds himself there, Boris pressing him into the mattress. 

“You do not give up.” Boris says and reaches down to press a kiss to Theo’s neck. His pulse flutters at the touch. Theo places a hand on Boris’s back, pressing him down. Boris starts sucking, Theo gasps. He will have to wear something to cover up the bruise that it will leave. He can’t be bothered to care too much.

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

Theo is lying on his front, Boris half on top of him. His hand stroking his back, his head resting by Theo’s shoulders. 

“Do you ever think about us not meeting?” Theo asks. Boris’s hand stills. It takes him some time to answer.

“I do not like thinking about it, but from time to time, yes.”

“What do you think you would be doing now if you hadn’t met me?”

“I’d probably be dead.”

“Boris- …..” Theo starts.

“No Potter, is true. You save me, many times and I am alive now. More alive than ever thanks to you.”

Theo is silent.

“Do you think it was fate that had us meeting then?”

“Maybe, who knows. But some higher power surely.”

“And now we’re here.”

“Here we are.” Boris’s hand continues its stroking. Theo shudders. 

“Do you remember the day we first saw each other?” Theo doesn’t know where all this is coming from. But everything feels calm and soft and he has not had coffee yet. His brain has been left to run freely.

“I will never forget it.”

“Mrs. Spear, english class, you sat behind me. You called someone a twat. I thought you were cool, you wouldn’t want to hang with me.” He confesses. Boris snorts.

“Not first time I saw you.”

Theo frowns.

“Huh?”

“Not the first time I saw you. I saw you before. You were short and angry. And you wore glasses, like Harry Potter. But mostly I saw you being alone, like me. I remember that about you.”

“You never said anything.”

“You never asked Potter. And we are here now. Is what matters.”

“Huuum.” Theo closes his eyes. Maybe Boris is right.

Boris kisses down his back and Theo’s hand fists in the sheets. The sun is still shining in through the window. New York is waking up around them. But they still have time. Time to be. 

-------

It’s a lot later when they finally make it out of bed. The coffee machine is running, Boris is singing from the shower and Theo is making breakfast. He likes it when life is like this. Not rushed and they can take their own time. Boris emerges from the bathroom some time later, his hair still wet. He’s wearing one of those stupid printed shirts Theo hates. Boris steals a tomato off Theo’s plate, chews loudly an obnoxiously and Theo rolls his eyes. Boris has a bunch of his own tomatoes on his own plate. He leaves them untouched and opts to eat Theo’s instead.

“Mrs. Barbour has invited us for tea later.” Theo says and takes a sip of his coffee. Boris is sitting on the counter, eating from his own plate. 

“What time?”

“Around 3.”

“Okay, sounds good.” Boris goes back to eating. Theo takes another sip of his coffee and he thinks about how lucky he really is. He’s not one to take anything for granted. Life has taught him that hard lesson many times. But this, what he has right here in this apartment feels like something good. Something to hold tight to. He and Boris, they’ve never done anything by the books. They’ve done everything their own way. And that’s how it’s supposed to be for them because it led them right here. To a life where Popchik is waiting impatiently by Theo’s foot to be taken for a walk, where there is clean laundry to fold, where there is Boris to crawl into bed with every night. Where Theo feels at peace for the first time since his mother died. 

“Potter, get out of your head. Our dog is waiting to be taken for a walk.” Boris says through a mouth full of food. Theo snorts, but kisses Boris on the cheek and gets ready to face a sunny New York. He’ll let Boris’s comment slip, for now.

“Love you Potter!” He hears before he closes the door. 

Theo smiles. 

[elenatria]

Ok, so before I sleep I have something to say. Thanks to you I have been sucked in the Valoris ship and not only can't get out but also come up with head canons so here is one: How do you imagine Boris(from the series) reacted when the news of Valery's (from the series)death reached him?

Took me long enough to answer that one, didn’t it?…  Sigh. Hopefully I’m not off topic. Here it is.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19349599/chapters/47025865

Here.

Here and now.

Boris squeezed one last time the jagged piece of metalthat was getting slippery with sweat between his thumb and index finger. As ifwaking from a trance he shifted his eyes from one end of the half-lit corridorto the other like a burglar weighing his chances; he had been standingmotionless in front of that door for a good five minutes.

Too long.

Inga is waiting.

Taking a sharp breath in he wondered if there was a pointin carrying on with his plan.

Gubarev said “there must have been a tape foryou”. Not “there is”. Valery had “hinted at it” but what did that even mean?What did Valery say? He should have asked Vladimir his exact words but it wastoo late now, the journalist was long gone and Inga was probably freezing, mewingher lungs out in his trunk. He shouldn’t leave her waiting, he reckoned, lockedin the car just because he was too eager to find Valery’s gift on that sameday. She was only a cat.

Another gulp of air, another squeeze of the key. Heclutched his eyes shut.

What if it’s not there? What if the police, the KGBfound it already? What if they heard Gubarev’s tapes and solved the riddlebefore me?

What if I’m here to waste the next three hours of mylife, whatever life is left of me, searching for something that doesn’t exist?Something I wasn’t bound to find?

“B’s gift.”

What did that even mean?

It meant nothing, they never exchanged gifts whenValery was alive, when they still had time.

Time - the one thing Boris always took for granted,the one commodity his high position in the Party couldn’t grant him. And that fuckingnerd was never the sentimental type, never accepted his presents. Besides hedied on him, didn’t he? No second thoughts, no consequences, no Boris. He nevergave a fuck.

“B’s gift.” What a joke. Time was the only giftI wanted from you, Valery, and it was the one thing you couldn’t give me.

You bastard. How could you leave me behind, howcould you��

Boris tightened his fist around the key letting its metalteeth sink into his flesh. The sharp stinging brought him back to reality, backto rational thinking. Back to standing in front of a closed door.

I didn’t leave you behind, Boris. I had no choice.

He snapped his eyes open. There it was again, angergiving way to guilt.

But there was no time for regret.

Inga was freezing. Inga was waiting. Inga was only acat.

Valery was dead but Inga was alive.

He pushed the key into the lock and turned. With one briskclick the door creaked open into the dark apartment.

The smell of mould and dust hit his nostrils like theitch of an old wound, like a long-forgotten memory. He had never been therebefore yet the scent of old furniture felt eerily familiar. Maybe if he openedthe shutters a stream of pale November light would rid this place of its glum otherworldlyair but he didn’t want to make his presence known to people on the street.

Another lie.

It was the thought of sunlight entering this place, thistomb, that he hated the most. The specks of dust dancing in the frozen air,the rustling of feathers coming through the open window… it was all about life.It would feel as if nothing had changed, as if life went on.

But it didn’t.

Not for Valery, not for him.

He tossed his leather gloves on the telephone desk. Ashe took off his ushanka hat to put it on the hanger he caught a glimpse of hisreflection in the mirror above the desk.

Was that really him? The Deputy Minister sent toChernobyl two and a half years ago who would yell at both his superiors and hissubordinates with equal fervour?

Those weren’t his eyes anymore - they were worn,tired, heavy. He had lost weight, he was missing colour from his cheeks. But itcouldn’t be that bad, could it? He probably didn’t look half as bad as Valerydid on the day he took his own life. Maybe Valery had gazed at this very mirrorminutes before tightening the noose around his neck. Maybe he saw exactly whatBoris was seeing now: a pair of vacant eyes looking back at him, filled with amillion accusations, a million regrets.

You didn’t do enough.

All those people, all the innocent lives you sent totheir graves—

and then the one who mattered most.

You did nothing.

He shook the morbid thought away. He had wished athousand times to be with Valery that fateful day, any day. He had wishedhe wasn’t a coward.

And die for me because of a visit? he almost heard afamiliar whisper in the shadows, vibrant and secure. Have me read about yourdeath in the papers? Wouldn’t they love that, Boris. Wouldn’t they gloat overmy despair. “He fell from the stairs of his own house.” “He slipped on snow.” “Hemistook rat poison for salt.” “He died in his sleep because of a gas leak.” Athousand imaginative ways to die in the hands of the KGB, a thousand convenientdeaths to break my heart. And what would I get? A cheap watch instead of amedal. A faceless article instead of a call from your family announcing yourdeath to me. You would have done them a great service had you come here. Andyou still think you should have done it? How magnanimous of you, Boris. Howgloriously naive.

(shut up you’re not here you’re not me you don’t knowwhat it’s like--)

Boris almost collapsed, his pale forehead against thedoor casing being the only thing that kept him still and standing. When the voicecreeped back into the walls he forced his eyes open and squinted around atsilhouettes of objects he still couldn’t discern.

There should be a switch somewhere, he thought, thereshould be some light. Had to be.

How he craved for it now.

He fumbled in the dark for the small plastic square onthe wall like a castaway desperate for a float.

A click and there it was, the sickly light of a lightbulbgiving colours and names to what were shapeless shadows a second before.

“Hesaid he had hidden something for you in the kitchen, ‘B’s gift’ he calledit.”

Toocryptic. But of course. He didn’t want them to find out.

Borispeered through the corridor. The door at the end of it had been lefthalf-opened revealing a kettle on the stove and a used towel hanging from adrawer under the sink. He dragged his steps across the hallway, his eyes fixed onthe opposite wall, on the kettle and the cracked white tiles behind it.

Enteringthe kitchen he realized there was not enough light for his search – and yet he couldn’tstand another bulb hanging above his head faking daytime. He walked around the tablestaring numbly at the tape recorder on it and the ashtray where someone hadleft his final cigarette butts. Laika smokes and their familiar scent.

Hisscent.

Borisopened the window and blinked painfully as the hard white light engulfed him. Thebanging of shutters against the wall startled a couple of pigeons on the ledge causingthem to flutter away.

Heleaned out in the fresh air.

Valery’sapartment was on the fourth floor so he could have easily jumped from there,give his life an instant merciful ending. But it would have been messy,wouldn’t it? It would have alerted the KGB right away. Perhaps he wanted togive Gubarev time to learn about his death from neighbours and find his tapes.

Perhapshe didn’t want to make this public, his death was only meant for those whoknew. Those he blamed.

Borisslammed his fists on the ledge. Squeezing his lips shut he turned back to thekitchen.

B’sgift, B’s gift, B’s gift. He should start somewhere.

Hedragged the drawers open with a clang, pulled them out, emptied their contentson the floor. He pulled the dishes out of the cupboards one by one, stacking bythe sink the ones that escaped his feverish haste, kicking on the side the onesthat got smashed in the process. He emptied every pot, every box big enough tocontain a tape. He removed the strainer from the sink and shoved a hook madeout of a hanger down its depths only to bring up black pulp of rotten food andgreasy strands of red hair. He folded those in a table napkin, carefully pattedthem dry and hid them in his pocket.

After an hour of turning the kitchen upsidedown he was aching from head to toe. He wasn’t a young man anymore; he wasn’t ahealthy man. He collapsed on the chair, his chest heaving as he leaned on thetable, resigned, defeated.  There was notone tile on the floor he hadn’t checked, one rug he hadn’t flipped, onecookbook he hadn’t opened in hopes of finding its pages torn and replaced bysomething as small as a tape. He had emptied the cupboards in search of falsebacks. He had traced the inside of the cooker hood, the vent, but those werethe first things any agent would search.

Therewas no hope. There was no tape addressed to him. There never was.

Hishand lay lifeless on the table next to the ashtray. Unconsciously he traced theflower-shaped edge of the cool brown crystal. He fiddled with the butts andrubbed his fingers together, watching idly the ash fall on his lap. He was solost in the deep blackness of his mind that he barely noticed the buzzingintruder flying through the open window.

Theunlikely visitor landed on the back of his hand tickling his skin. Its yellowand black stripes looked so out of place on such a cold day that broke him outof his haze.

Borislifted his hand to take a closer look at the frail lifeform.

“Whatare you doing here?” he mumbled, his eyes watering at the sight of a creatureso fragile and beautiful. “Aren’t you supposed to be hibernating or something?Protecting your queen from the cold? Who brought you here to die?”

Heturned his hand to get a closer look at the insect’s transparent wings.

“You’re doomed away from your hive, you know, awayfrom your queen. You weren’t supposed to be here at all. You were supposed towork, you were supposed to live.”

Thethought of the bee’s fate made him numb.

Heknew he couldn’t protect it, he could only watch it die slowly or let it go. Forgetit ever existed.

Hejust didn’t know which was worse.

“Youmust be hungry,” he muttered, “but there’s no sugar in this apartment, Idropped it all in the sink. Maybe there’s —”

Hislast words dissolved in his drying mouth. He got up slowly like a somnambulist,mesmerized by the insect’s yellow and black stripes.

Heknew now.

Gubarevnever said “Boris’ gift”. He said B’s gift.

Bee’sgift.

Andbees have only one gift to give.

Howcould he ever think it was about him. How selfish, how blind he had been allthis time. It was a riddle. Something the KGB would never suspect, cynicalbastards that they were.

Borisplaced his palm next to the sink letting the bee fly off and then franticallyturned to the cupboard next to the vent. There was one jar left, one jar hehadn’t checked because it was filled with a substance so inconspicuous and denseand sticky nothing could be preserved in it without being ruined.

Heopened the cupboard and grabbed the honey jar. It was big enough. It wastransparent yet dense enough. No one would have guessed.

You’rea genius, Valery. You’re a fucking genius.

Heunscrewed the lid and let the honey drip into the sink.

Thereit was, a heat-sealed bag and a tape with a red cover in it.

There.It. Was.

Heturned on the tap and rinsed the precious find carefully making surethere were no holes on the plastic to let water in. He wiped it with the toweland ripped it open until the tape was safe and dry in his palm. With shakyhands he took it out of the case, turned to the table, pressed the ejectbutton and shoved the tape in.

Click.  

Manyseconds dragged by without a single word coming from the recorder.

(hesitance)

Howunlike Valery. He was never afraid to speak his mind, never had second thoughtsabout it. But he was at a loss of words whenever Boris was being a bit too bold,whenever he took their relationship one step further. Valery would turn into alost puppy each time Boris asked for reassurance, each time Boris showedaffection. Each time Boris asked for more.

Thefirst sound from the recording broke Boris out of his reverie.

Aclearing of the throat. A cough. A sigh.

“Thistape belongs to Boris Evdokimovich Shcherbina,” the voice began in an almost formaltone. “I don’t know if he will be Deputy Chairman of the Council of Ministersby the time it reaches him. I don’t even know if he’ll live long enough toreceive it. But there it is… Months of silence condensed into a single tape.”

Borisfelt his stomach clutching as the voice continued.

“Thereason why I’m making this tape now, Boris, is that… you called me thismorning, didn’t you? I knew it was you. And I knew we couldn’t talk. That’swhy I’m talking now.” Valery’s recorded voice drew in a deep breath, preparing hislistener for what was bound to become an unstoppable river of words.  

“Ihad been waiting for that call. How long has it been? Six months? A year? I’velost count. To be honest, I thought you’d call earlier. I would lie in bedstaring at the ceiling and imagine the talks we would have you and I, hours of them,and as months went by and I didn’t get to hear from you I would come to imagineour silences instead. The ones we would share after a long tedious day at thepower plant, smoking and drinking and going through endless reports withoutexchanging a single word. The silences that enveloped us each time we found newways to… explore each other. Sometimes you couldn’t stop, sometimes Icouldn’t stop. But there was always silence afterwards. I cherished that asmuch as I cherished watching you come undone in my arms. Losing control. Iloved you the most when you were like that - vulnerable. Digging your nailsinto my ribs, holding on to me for dear life.”

Therewas a pause after that as if Valery was trying to gather his scatteredthoughts.

“Forgiveme, Boris, but I had forgotten how you sounded like, the deep soothing tone ofyour voice.  My memory…” He clicked histongue, probably shaking his head in regret. “It must be the medication,getting heavier every week, every day. Sometimes I just refuse to take it becauseI don’t want to forget, you know? Least of all you. But you called.” He laughed.“I knew it was you, I heard your breathing in my ear and it all came back. Theorders you gave, the barking on the phone, the promises that you’d get us… get meeverything I needed.” A pause. Valery giving himself time to think, toremember. “The pleas, the soft whispers when we were alone telling me what todo, the desperate gasps and soft whimpers when you… when you… Oh god…”

Boriswas almost certain he heard a stifled sob. A biting of the fist. “I’m so sorry,Boris, it all comes back to me now… It’s harder than I thought it would be. It’ssavage.”

Anothersob, masked as a sharp intake of breath. “It’s worse than being alone. It’sknowing that I’m still alive and you’re out there, in a phone booth who knowswhere, wasting your coins on me, unable to even say ‘hi’. Because of what Idid. Because of what I said. I wish I could take it all back now...”

Therewas no doubt now, Valery was crying.

“G-giveme one more chance to lie to the world, Boris, and I’ll take it. One horriblelie for one more day with you. I-I think it’s fair...”

Borisheard the clicking of plastic; Valery had removed his glasses and dropped themon the table. “But I couldn’t keep my mouth shut, not when I knew that they werethe reason you were coughing red stains into your handkerchief. Not when I sawyou broken like that, bending over your knees on that miserable bench insteadof enjoying the sunlight, feeling hopeless, worthless. You’re not worthless,Borya, not to me, not to anyone. Not to the millions of people you helped save.”

Borischoked. His vision was getting blurry but he refused to dip his hand into hispocket and bring out the handkerchief – he knew Valery’s hair was still there,soft and fragile, folded in a napkin. He knew the feel of it was going to ruinhim.

Hewiped his cheek with the heel of his palm instead.

Thevoice continued. It was clearer, more composed now. “Do you remember the daywhen we set the lunar rover to motion for the first time? I thought I would neverforgive you for making me blush in front of everyone. I mean how dare you,”Valery chuckled. “That night you made it worse - you kissed me. You made mekiss you. I didn’t know I could do that, Boris. I had forgotten. When the firstrays of sunshine found us together in your bed you traced my lips promising mysmile was yours to protect, forever. I didn’t understand it back then. I didn’tknow why my smile mattered. And you didn’t know ‘forever’ could be awfullyshort.” Valery huffed. “I guess we were both equally ignorant.”

Afaint laugh.

Boriswinced hard against his fist as hot beads slid down the back of his hand.

“I’msmiling now, Boris, I wish you could see it,” Valery sighed happily smothering asniffle. “You may think they won but they didn’t because not a day passeswithout your thought putting a smile on my face.”

Borisblinked again and again trying to get rid of the thick tears blinding him.

Therewas no time for grief. He had to listen to the end. He had to stay focused. Hehad to drink in every single word.

“They’llnever take that, you know,” Valery reassured him, his tone steady and firm likethat day in the court. “It’s that last inch of me they cannot take. The inchthat is you.”

Valery’svoice lowered until it was nothing but a dark whisper. “They turned my worldinto a prison, Boris. They took everything. Except you. You’re that part of methey will never have.”

TheUkrainian was leaning on his elbows, uncaring of the tear stains gathering onthe tape recorder. He didn’t need it anymore. Valery’s words didn’t need a recorderto be remembered.

“Don’tdie before me, Borya,” came the final choked sob from the speaker. “I couldnever live with myself if you did.”

Borisfidgeted with the keys, brushed his hand over the speaker just to feel thevibrations of Valery’s voice.

Justto feel.

Heclosed his eyes waiting for the beloved friend’s last words to pulsate throughhis fingers as if they were together one last time, in bed, feeling each other’slips in the dark.

Thewords finally came. Maybe he had heard them before. Maybe he hadn’t. He didn’tremember. It didn’t matter anymore.

Valerylived. Valery existed. Valery was his.

 “Ilove you, Boris. Don’t die.”

…

 Thatevening, and for many evenings to come, Inga enjoyed a royal meal - not justthe usual canned pet food, no. She had baked salmon served in a porcelain bowl anda large basket to sleep in in front of the fireplace. However the basket wasonly meant for naps and she’d rather spend her day being petted and purringhappily. When she was done licking herself clean she would hop on her new owner’slap and settle herself between the pages of a Pravda issue and a hot cup oftea.

Shewas never denied the tenderness she deserved even if sometimes the petting wasinterrupted by long intakes of breath and hands stilling on her back as if timehad stopped, as if the world had come to an end. She didn’t know what thatmeant, she was only a cat, but she knew what she wanted and she would consistentlybring her owner back to reality with her soft mewing and the playful blinkingof her big emerald eyes.

Thegrey-haired man’s lost gaze would then turn back to her, his reddened eyessoftening, and he would continue to indulge her with long even strokes alongher back, the ones she loved the most.

Shewas only a cat. Maybe she knew instinctively that her time on this planet waslimited and those displays of affection, those shared moments with someone wholoved her were enough to make life worth living.

Maybeshe was so happy because she didn’t know how long she had.

Butthen again, who does.

[vancila]

better dig up out clown wigs for got finale, how about your newer fantasy dudes meeting my fantasy doods, how likely is dagon and jame becoming a thing (he's just and old doctor who didnt even realize he can now wear whatever he wants), would bailey let roo and jules babysit in a pinch (kasia would, but only in a dire pinch), trias giving shyn a colorful scrunchie bc gift? good yes?

this show has aged me like fifty years in the past month

The village is welcoming, it’s pretty hard for an outsider to find because Mahran keeps it cloaked under her magic, but if the little group of travelers happen upon Ilya and Maud out hunting or get interrogated by Talia and Wren out for enemies they’ll bring them back as guests. Just… leave all the weapons to the chieftain’s house if you’re going to stay. Go on to the tavern, have a seat, have a drink, something to eat, they have plenty to share. Mahran’s little clan is a friendly and cheerful bunch and want to know plenty, Ilya is very interested to hear what’s up with y’all and they’re less shy than people like Floria and Bori who would also like to know but don’t dare to ask. Tenevil as the blacksmith is interested in their weapons and armor, as is Bori who’s the tanner. Kaede has to stop Koldun from straight up plucking a feather from Sharni’s pauldrons and explain that we don’t touch people without their permission, nor do we destroy their clothes. They can stay, and they’re urged to stay if tonight will be new moon, as no sane person wants to be out in the forest during the night.Phaedra is easy to come across in the forest, she doesn’t care enough to pay attention to her surroundings anymore, but would be surprised by very weird-looking strangers she hasn’t seen in however many centuries she’s been alive. Chaolian and Yuka pretty much only go out at night but they’re friendly enough, Chaolian would prefer you went on your way… unless you have business with the moon and want to use his shrine, then in that case sure. Colm would be just scared shitless of being surprised by strangers and disappear quick because daddy has been telling him for the past 20 years that everyone else but him and the boy are the enemy. Only ones to look out for are Qharil himself who however will retreat (y’all ugly *poof*) after seeing he’s outnumbered, and Katina during new moon when she’s tearing through the forest as a werewolf. Qharil is way too friendly and slick, has clouded over eyes and magic users can probably feel the sheer amount of magic he’s using to hold his face together.

_______

Dagon is used to not having a man and not even being intimate, he just accepted it as a fact for 50 years that being without isn’t an issue. It also means he’s pretty useless at talking to men. He’s been on a couple of dates after getting out but nothing worked out so he’s kinda given up, more or less asked Jame out just because he kinda initiated it and messed with his feelings a little. Prepared for disappointment tho. He’s just a guy creeping past middle-age who’s prepared to spend the latter half of his life alone but still has hope for something else so… he’s interested. Just not that hopeful. Does his best though and grabs the opportunity when it arises, even if he is a bit awkward and shy he’ll try and do his best to show Jame that he’s interested without coming off as desperate.

_________

Well, the guys are plenty trusted as babysitters already, Max trusts them as does Heather and Bailey trusts his sister so he sees no harm. They might not be his first choice to look after his kid when he can’t, but for an evening it’s cool, and more importantly if Minh is cool with these guys he can trust them to look after her for a moment. If she had fun then he’ll definitely consider them again if needed later on.

________

Aw! Cute! Thank you! She’ll just take it and spin her hair into a bun immediately, even if her hair was already tied, she’ll just open it and put it back up with the scrunchie. She is colourblind, so she can’t appreciate the colours, but the ruffles and the feel she can appreciate. Is it cute on me? Do I look cute with it on? Should I wear just this the next time we go ransack a mansion? She’s thankful, not the first time she’s gotten a gift from a lady lover, and definitely not from the expensive end of those gifts, but it is nevertheless a gift and it makes her happy that Trias saw it and thought of giving it to her. People keep giving jewelry or perfumes or makeup but this one is practical, finally. When not wearing it in her hair, she’ll be wearing it around her wrist or arm later, too. 

[rantybants-blog]

Change, growth, time?

Its February 2022. It's currently 5:14. On a unusually warm Monday afternoon, 7c to be exact.

The last time I posted here was 2017.

I don't even know where to start.

I guess there's the Pandemic, that started end of 2019 beginning of 2020. That was so long ago now. Not as long as 2017 though.

I've had 3 relationships since Brody, so I was wrong, I fell in love again.

Boy did I fall.

His name was Boris Borisov Nedev, and just like Brody it fell apart. I might be cursed.

But that's for another post.

I'm an adult now, I graduated, dropped out of University, I live with Sara and Alex, I HAVE A DOG! His name is Atticus. I've done SO many drugs. I became best friends with a bunch of people I never thought I would have; including Tyler. I've grown so much. I'm not as sad anymore, not as scared, lost and confused. Okay well maybe still a little confused.

I still hate my name.

I'm nowhere near where I thought I'd be. I mean I'm alive for a start. But, I'm happy, like genuinely truly happy. I still have hard days but those are just days now.

All those internet posts saying "iT gETs bEttEr" were right. Much to my chagrin. (I can hear sara screaming)

I don't know, what else is there to say? I get up every morning and work, I'm an adult with responsibilities.

I often grieve my childhood (everything before the age of 20). Regretting all the wasted time and missed opportunities. But, I don't hate myself for it. I was doing the best I could at the time with what I had. It's still hard though. It's hard not to look back and feel sad about it all.

Oh! I have a Japanese futon, concert ukulele, polaroid camera from the 80's, 1950's street bike, and cauldron. These were all cool things I wanted as a kid that I now have which is just WILD to me. I'm finding my style, which of course includes 2014 tumblr girl. I paint my nails black now and have wavy hair ( with the help of products) OH! and I got my seconds pierced recently and I'm planning on getting a tattoo down my spine next.

I still sleep with a stuffie, her name is Jam.

I thought of something but I forgot...

That's a thing now, my brain isn't as good as it use to be. Partly MS partly probably mamajuana.

Oh! It was that I worked at lush.

Oh! OH! I have the COOLEST gaming set up. Its all matte black with rainbow. We made a cool hexagon wall art for my wall.

I like pink now, it my colour. But Rainbow is also my thing, the more colour the better if you ask me. I have amazing daily jewelry that I wear. Right, I wear earrings now too.

So much has changed, and it al happened naturally without thought. That's something I still struggle with. I overthink things and have bad anxiety. Bu, I'm working on it. I conquered my depression so why not my anxiety?

So, why did I even come back to this blog? I had completely forgotten about it otherwise. Well it started with a outfit. I got some new clothes and I was deciding if I wanted to keep them, trying different combinations on. Then, I made one outfit that nearly brought me to tears. I looked like the girl I wanted to be when I was a sad lonely awkward teenager. Somehow, somewhere, I made it. I got to where I wanted to be so badly. Hence the tears.

So I remembered all my years on tumblr and decided "fuck it" I should make another tumblr. A place where I can just express myself without worry of someone finding it like Instagram. Instagram is a very "HEY LOOK AT ME" platform. While tumblr has always been a "hey this is my littler corner and you are welcome to visit friendly stranger". So, I went to make a tumblr and saw that a account was already under my email. I logged in and found this.

It's weird you can hear how young I sound in my writing. How distraught and scared I was. Even in the intro paragraph. I was so angry and defensive to someone who didn't even exist yet.

You know how people are always talking about healing their inner child, I think I'm past that point. I think it's time for me to heal my inner teenager. Do the things I wanted to do but was too afraid to (within reason) Nurture my creativity and curiosity. Do things for me and no one else.

Speaking of! I'm actually happy with my art ( for the most part) for once! which is another thing I never thought I'd ever achieve.

So I guess this is the end, for now. Until I find this again, many years later. Revisiting my past is something I've always enjoyed, so I doubt it'll stop anytime soon.

~Later skater *:･ﾟ✧

[othernecessarythings]

81: Piercings you have?

only my ears

82: Something you really enjoy doing:

spening time with my favorite people on adventures

83: Favorite person to talk to:

my sister or my best friends

84: What was your first impression of Tumblr?

how the fuck does this thing work, what are tags and why can’t i see any dates

85: How many followers do you have?

not many

86: Can you run a mile within ten minutes?

well yes? if my googling is right and a mile is about 1.6 km, then yeah, i run one km in like 5 min

87: Do your socks always match?

yes i can’t wear mismatched socks

88: Can you touch your toes and keep your legs straight completely?

yes

89: What are your birthstones?

?

90: If you were an animal, which one would you be?

like a seal or something

91: If a flower could aesthetically represent you, what kind would it be?

hm the flower called förgätmigej in swedish, they’re small, blue and calm

92: A store you hate?

um like the swedish store tessie maybe

93: How many cups of coffee can you drink in one day?

none

94: Would you rather be able to fly or read minds?

read minds

95: Do you like to wear camo?

no not my style

96: Winter or summer?

SUMMER omg

97: How long can you hold your breath for?

probably not that long

98: Least favorite person?

hmm i really can’t stand trump for example

99: Someone you look up to:

my friends, hayley williams and my parents

100: A store you love?

weekday maybe

101: Favorite type of shoes

sneakers, always

102: Where do you live?

sweden, love it

103: Are you a vegetarian or vegan? If so, why?

i prefer vegetarian food, but i eat anything

104: What is your favorite mineral or gem?

no clue

105: Do you drink milk?

not straight up, but like oboy and stuff like that yeah

106: Do you like bugs?

not really

107: Do you like spiders?

not really either

108: Something you get paranoid about?

getting caught by parents or police or similar lol, i’m living very dangerously in that aspect huh

109: Can you draw:

absolutely not

110: Nosiest question you have ever been asked?

i’m not brave enough to ask too much, but i love to get to know people’s backgrounds, fears and dreams

111: A question you hate being asked?

“why are u so smart?” cause i know i’m smart, it sounds arrogant to just say it like that but i realize it’s true, but i don’t know why? it just happened? hm

112: Ever been bitten by a spider?

nah we don’t have any bigger or dangerous ones here in sweden

113: Do you like the sound of waves at the beach?

i live for it, i actually walk to the sea (i live pretty close to it) quite often just to breathe and let the waves calm me down

114: Do you prefer cloudy or sunny days?

always sunny days

115: Someone you'd like to kiss or cuddle right now:

hm i’d like to find someone i like first ig

116: Favorite cloud type:

fluffy, compact clouds on a clear blue sky

117: What color do you wish the sky was?

i’m content with it being blue, and every beautiful colour the sunset is

118: Do you have freckles?

no

119: Favorite thing about a person:

their mind i guess? what they find interesting and are passionate about

120: Fruits or vegetables?

depends, i like both (indecisive as always)

121: Something you want to do right now:

bathe in a warm ocean, feel the sun on my skin

122: Is the ocean or sky prettier?

the combo of them together beats everything

123: Sweet or sour foods?

sour

124: Bright or dim lights?

dim, it’s so much more comfortable

125: Do you believe in a certain magical creature?

not really

126: Something you hate about Tumblr:

how addictive it is, and how some people criticize everyone for small mistakes when they’re just trying their best to be inclusive,, like for example this is one of the most lgbtq+ accepting spaces of all times compared the general homophobia in the world, but there’s still those who complain when every post doesn’t include their very specific orientation

127: Something you love about Tumblr:

how addictive it is, it allows me to completely forget everything else and just have a good time in peace,, and how i don’t know any one here, no one is here to constantly judge me

128: What do you think about the least?

huh? what’s that?

129: What would you want written on your tombstone?

oh um that’s a quite big decision but right now do i feel that this swedish lyrics would be very beautiful

”Låt oss gå upp på taket ikväll

Där vi kan se stjärnorna skimra

Låt oss gå upp på taket ihop

Där vi kan vara närmare himlen

Närmare himlen”

130: Who would you like to punch in the face right now?

trump or boris

131: What is something you love but also hate about yourself?

um everything, i constantly doubt all of my traits and appearances but love them at the same time

132: Do you smile with your teeth showing for pictures?

usually not, so if i’m smiling with my teeth am i usually really, really happy

133: Computer or TV?

computer

134: Do you like roller coasters?

hm sometimes

135: Do you get motion sickness or seasickness?

motion, seasickness is never a problem for me

136: Are your ears lobed or attached?

what?

137: Do you believe in karma?

no, but i still believe in acting good just because it’s right, not because you get any selfish profits from it

138: On a scale of 1-10, how attractive would you say you are?

oh that definitely depends, i know i’m quite near the society’s definition of beauty standards, with body shape and face features and clothing style and everything but i still doubt myself a lot, but i’d like to see myself as a strong seven

139: What nicknames do you have/have had?

none, my name hasn’t got any natural nicknames and i’ve never needed a nickname until recently when i’ve got a friend with the same name as me,, but she’s got a nickname so it’s okay

140: Did you have any pretend or imaginary friends?

no i wasn’t a creative kid at all lol

141: Have you ever seen a therapist/shrink?

sigh once secretly, but it didn’t go that well and i’ve never done it since

142: Would you say you are a good or bad influence to others?

oof really depends on who, but hopefully good?

143: Do you prefer giving or receiving gifts/help?

hm depends on how good the present i’m giving is

144: What makes you angry

not much really, i’m not an angry type

145: How many languages do you speak fluently?

kinda two? i mean i’m fluent in swedish of course, and i’m quite close to being fluent in english too.. and i must include some rather bad german skills too lol

146: Do you prefer boys, girls, and/or non-binaries?

honestly i don’t have a clue right now, but i’m probably bi? aah but idk maybe i’m just straight, how would i know, but rn am i comfortable in being bi and further explore what my sexuality is

147: Are you androgynous?

not really, i’m kinda stereotypically female i guess

148: Favorite physical thing about yourself:

hm my legs be kinda cute tho

149: Favorite thing about your personality:

no don’t make me choose this i don’t know and i’m insecure about it

150: Name three people you would like to talk to right now in person.

anyone? um hayley williams, tyler joseph and my grandpa who’s passed away

151: If you could go back into time and live in one era, which would you choose?

no i’m content in our era, but either the early 2000’s to fully live my emo life, or the swedish 50’s when my grandparents grew up, they always tell me such beautiful stories from their childhoods and teenage years (i am aware about the problematics with all eras, and 50’s being lots of racism and much more, but i’d like to believe that if i were able to grow up the same way my grandparents did here in sweden, would life been pretty great anyways)

152: Do you like BuzzFeed?

okay hear me out i don’t know if buzzfeed is i thing in sweden? i’ve never heard anyone mention it, i have a vague idea of what it is but i don’t really know? so i guess not

153: How did you meet your spouse/girlfriend/boyfriend/partner? [If you have one.]

hah i wish

154: Do you like to kiss others' foreheads or hands for platonic reasons?

no i’m not a touchy friend, i’m more like a shower u with kind words instead friend

155: Do you like to play with others' hair?

no i feel like i intrude on their privacy somehow

156: What embarrasses you?

hm i don’t really know, i tend to avoid any situation that might make me feel embarrassed

157: Something that makes you nervous/anxious:

the concept of this (my teenage years) being the absolute best years of my life and that i have to achieve so much rn,, and media isn’t really helping me with that, i’m constantly forced to watch how great lives everyone else lives on social media and stuff,,, and i know my life is actually really interesting and good, but i’m anxious about my time running out anyways

158: Biggest lie you have ever told:

hm basic but “i’m fine” i guess

159: How many people are you following?/160: How many posts do you have on your blog(s)? /161: How many drafts do you have on your blog(s)?/162: How many likes do you have on your blog(s)?

not many on either of them

163: Last time you cried and why:

ah i don’t cry (which is a problem and i’m trying to loosen up my grip on my emotions but it’s hard) honestly i don’t remember the last time i really sobbed? i’ve cried a tear or two sometimes, usually over books, but i’m unfortunately not a crying type

164: Do you have long or short hair?

i had long hair until like yesterday! rn is it to my shoulders, which still is kinda long i guess, but short for me

165: Longest your hair has ever been:

idk quite long

166: Why do you like, dislike, or have neutral feelings about religon?

oh interesting topic, here’s my view on it; religion is a good idea, but we’re using it wrong. it is about spreading love and finding answers to the greater questions in life, to respect one and each other and finding a place and purpose in our world, which is beautiful right? unfortunately are many people and fucking leaders using it for their own profit, to spread hate or fear, which is completely wrong and not at all what it is about. worth mentioning that in sweden, particularly in the bigger cities, isn’t religion a big thing. no one i know is devoted religious? neither am i, but i still choose to believe in the good parts of christianity, about love and acceptance

167: Do you really care how the universe and world was created?

ye i’m a science nerd i would love to know how it was made from a scientific point of view, bc i firmly believe that it’s the big bang and not some god who randomly chose to make us lol

168: Do you like to wear makeup?

yes, a little everyday makeup, and bright, colorful and creative looks for events

169: Can you stand on your hands or head for more than thirty seconds?

against a wall, probably yes, but without? hah no

170: Did you answer the questions you were asked truthfully?

i think so, the knowledge that no one else is going to read this but me makes me feel quite secure in answering truthfully

that’s it! wow i made it through all of them, just for the record it’s the 23:d february 2020 today, nice, goodbye

[ishouldprobablychange]

Shampoo and Conditioner

Back in 2014 in a time before Boris and Trump were best mates I started this blog as a way of recording the slow, small changes I was making to live a more sustainable life. The first change I made was my shampoo and now nearly 5 years later I thought I’d revisit the topic since it’s still the one I get the most questions about.

Reasons for swapping There are several ‘ethical/sustainable' issues that might drive a change when it comes to haircare but let’s boil it down to three, People, Plastics and Product.

People People matter. My whole ethical story began when a friend asked me this question; ‘how do your choices oppress others?’. That question has made me think much more about how the things I buy are made and who makes them. When it comes to hair-care, choosing products that use ingredients that are bought for a fair price, made for a fair price and help to liberate people and communities is important. Buying locally-made products is also great as independent makers are likely to know more about where their ingredients come from. It’s great to be plastic free but so important to look behind the cute paper packaging to see who’s making it and how they are being treated. 

Plastics There’s lots of talk about plastic so I won’t add to the noise. The world is dying in single-use plastic and we can do something about that. In the area of hair-care reducing plastic has become much easier. When I started my search 5 years ago Lush were the only place offline that I could buy a shampoo bar locally, now the choices are endless, not to mention the brilliant zero-waste stores popping up.

Product Recently I’ve started switching all my body, hair and cleaning products to toxin free ones. The main thing I’ve focused on is removing synthetic fragrance. On most shampoos and conditioners you’ll see the words ‘perfume’ or ‘fragrance’. This is a placeholder for a whole load of different chemicals which we know very little about. I decided that I wanted to know exactly what I was putting on my skin so now I opt for products which use essential oils for scent. I was guided through this process by reading the Clean Mama book and I’ve already noticed that my hands which are usually dry and sore are totally clear, yippee! 

You can decide that all the above issues matter to you or maybe only a couple. I wanted to share the things that shape my decisions as they are way more important than sharing the actually products that end up in my bathroom. 

It’s Personal Before I move on and give you the low-down on my favourites I want to add another ‘P’ - it’s Personal. Your hair is yours and what works for me probably won’t work for you. The condition, colour, texture and style of your hair will affect how different products work, not to mention the kind of water in your area. Stick at it, the first shampoo you use probably won’t be the last, have fun and experiment, use a bar up and then try another one. Most people experience a detox when they switch, there’s various tips online with how to get through this but it does get better and hopefully you’ll come to love your new hair and products.

My current favourites 

Faith in Nature refill - our local zero-waste shop sells refills of shampoo and conditioner. This is an awesome option if you don’t fancy going down the bar route.

Lush - honey I washed the kids - smells great, lathers up due to it including SLS which many shampoo bars don’t. SLS is the chemical that makes things lather, there’s questions about how good it is for you (it is quite drying) but Lush give a great explanation about it here. Due to the SLS this is a great bar for someone who’s trying a non-liquid for the first time because you lather it in your hand and then it acts just like ‘normal’ shampoo. One bar is the equivalent of three bottles of shampoo.

Beauty Kubes - Hands down my favourite haircare find. A little cube that you crush, add a few drops of water to and then lather. It smells incredible and my hair feels so soft afterwards. They look pricey at first glance but since I now only wash my hair twice a week (another perk of switching to natural products) a box of 27 can last me up to 3 months.

Conchus bars and hair-rinse - I’m in love with this hair rinse, I spray it on after shampooing, leave for a couple of minutes and then wash off. Here’s the Conchus explanation; 

‘Naturally hair has a slightly acidic pH, and shampoo bars are naturally slightly alkaline in pH (nothing to be concerned about). A hair rinse will help to balance the pH of your hair, and keep it happy in harmony.

It will also prevent the waxy soap film, that can happen particularly in hard water areas. This waxy feeling is often when people give up on shampoo bars, but a hair rinse is an absolute game-changer for using them, and it replaces the 'conditioner' in your hair care routine.’

Sheffield Skincare conditioner - since the heat wave my hair has needed a bit of extra moisture and this bar is lovely and huge bonus to be able to support a local business at the same time.

Hope this has been helpful and encouraged you to have some fun finding some great alternatives to your supermarket favourites :) Would love to hear what other people have enjoyed using.