#history tutor london

[pers-books]

Obituary

William Russell obituary

Stage and screen actor who was part of the original cast of Doctor Who

Michael Coveney Tue 4 Jun 2024 17.40 BST

William Russell, left, as Ian Chesterton, with William Hartnell as the Doctor, Jacqueline Hill as Barbara and Carole Ann Ford as Susan in the Doctor Who serial The Keys of Marinus, 1964. Photograph: BBC

On 23 November 1963 – the day after the assassination of President John F Kennedy – the actor William Russell, who has died aged 99, appearing in a new BBC television series, approached what looked like an old-fashioned police box in a scrapyard, from which an old chap emerged, saying he was the doctor. Russell responded: “Doctor Who?”

And so was launched one of the most popular TV series of all time, although the viewing figures that night were low because of the political upheaval, so the same episode was shown again a week later. It caught on, big time, with Russell – as the science schoolteacher Ian Chesterton – and William Hartnell as the Doctor establishing themselves alongside Jacqueline Hill as the history teacher Barbara Wright and Carole Ann Ford as Susan Foreman.

Russell stayed until 1965, returning to the show in 2022 in a cameo appearance as Ian and, since then, participating happily in all the hoop-la and fanzine convention-hopping, signing and schmoozing that such a phenomenon engenders.

Before that, though, Russell had achieved prominence in the title role of the ITV series The Adventures of Sir Lancelot (1956-57) – he was strongly built with an air of dashing bravado about him; he had been an RAF officer in the later stages of the second world war – and as the lead in a 1957 BBC television adaptation of Nicholas Nickleby, transmitted live in 18 weekly episodes.

William Russell on the set of the 1950s television series The Adventures of Sir Lancelot. Photograph: Mirrorpix/Getty Images

When Sir Lancelot went to the US, the first British TV import to be shot in colour for an American audience, Russell rode down Fifth Avenue on a horse in full regalia, like some returning, mystical, medieval knight in the heart of Normandy. The show was a smash hit.

By now he was established in movies, playing a servant to John Mills in The Gift Horse (1952) and a clutch of second world war action movies including They Who Dare (1954) opposite Dirk Bogarde, directed by Lewis “All Quiet on the Western Front” Milestone – he met his first wife, the French model and actor Balbina Gutierrez on a boat sailing to Cyprus to a location shoot in Malta – and Ronald Neame’s The Man Who Never Was (1956), the first Operation Mincemeat movie, in which he played Gloria Grahame’s fiance.

Until this point in his career, he was known as Russell Enoch. But Norman Wisdom, with whom he played in the knockabout comedy farce One Good Turn (1955) objected to his surname because he felt (oddly) that it would publicise a vaudevillian rival of his called Enoch. So, somewhat meekly, and to keep Wisdom happy, he became William Russell, although, in the 1980s, for happy and productive periods with the Actors Touring Company and the RSC, he reverted to the name Russell Enoch. Later, he settled again on William Russell. All very confusing for the historians. His doorbell across the road from me in north London bore the legend “Enoch”.

He was born in Sunderland, the only child of Alfred Enoch, a salesman and small business entrepreneur, and his wife, Eva (nee Pile). They moved to Solihull, and then Wolverhampton, where William attended the grammar school before moving on to Fettes college in Edinburgh and Trinity College, Oxford, where his economics tutor was the brilliant Labour parliamentarian Anthony Crosland.

But Russell didn’t “get” the economics part of the PPE (philosophy, politics and economics) course and switched, much to Crosland’s relief, to English. In those years, 1943-46, he worked out his national service and appeared in revues and plays with such talented contemporaries as Kenneth Tynan, Tony Richardson and Sandy Wilson.

Derek Ware, a fight co-ordinator, runs through a scene with Russell during a break in filming the Doctor Who story The Crusades at the BBC studios, Ealing, in 1965. Photograph: Mirrorpix/Getty Images

On graduating, he played in weekly rep in Tunbridge Wells, fortnightly rep at the Oxford Playhouse and featured, modestly, in the Alec Guinness Hamlet of 1951 at the New (now the Noël Coward) theatre. He had big roles in seasons at the Bristol Old Vic and the Oxford Playhouse in the early 60s, while on television he was in JB Priestley’s An Inspector Calls with John Gregson, and was St John Rivers in Jane Eyre.

He played Shylock and Ford (in the Merry Wives of Windsor) in 1968-69 at the Open Air, Regent’s Park, before joining the RSC in 1970 as the Provost in Measure for Measure (with Ian Richardson and Ben Kingsley), Lord Rivers in Norman Rodway’s Richard III and Salisbury in a touring King John, with the title role played by Patrick Stewart.

His billing slipped in movies, but he played small parts in good films such as Superman (1978), starring Christopher Reeve, as one of the Elders; as a passerby drawn into the violence in the Spanish-American slasher film Deadly Manor (1990); and in Bertrand Tavernier’s Death Watch (1980), a sci-fi futuristic fable about celebrity, reality TV and corruption, starring Romy Schneider and Harvey Keitel.

With John Retallack’s Actors Touring Company in the 80s, he was a lurching, apoplectic Sir John Brute in John Vanbrugh’s The Provok’d Wife, possessing, said Jonathan Keates in the Guardian, “a weirdly philosophical elegance”; a civilised Alonso, expertly discharging some of the best speeches in The Tempest; and a quick-change virtuosic king, peasant, soldier and tsar in Alfred Jarry’s 1896 surrealist satire Ubu Roi in the Cyril Connolly translation.

Back at the RSC in 1989, he was the courtly official Egeus in white spats (Helena wore Doc Martens) in an outstanding production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream by John Caird, and both the Ghost and First Player in Mark Rylance’s pyjama-clad Hamlet directed by Ron Daniels. In 1994 he took over (from Peter Cellier) as Pinchard in Peter Hall’s delightful production of Feydeau’s Le Dindon, retitled in translation An Absolute Turkey, which it wasn’t.

He rejoined Rylance in that actor/director’s opening season in 1997 at the new Shakespeare’s Globe. He was King Charles VI of France in Henry V and Tutor to Tim in Thomas Middleton’s riotous Jacobean city comedy, A Chaste Maid in Cheapside. Many years later, in 2021, his son Alfred Enoch (Dean Thomas in the Harry Potter movies), would play on the same stage as a fired-up Romeo.

Russell is survived by his second wife, Etheline (nee Lewis), a doctor, whom he married in 1984, and their son, Alfred, and by his children, Vanessa, Laetitia and Robert, from his marriage to Balbina, which ended in divorce, and four grandchildren, James, Elise, Amy and Ayo.

 William Russell Enoch, actor, born 19 November 1924; died 3 June 2024.

-- I'm a bit annoyed there's no mention of the fact that William continued to play Ian Chesterton for Big Finish.

[pjshermann]

Jude's Timeline

Since there are no dates or determinable time period (beyond the fact that it's set in the 21st century) in A Little Life, I love trying to figure out the timelines of the characters themselves. So here's Jude.

Newborn

Born in South Dakota

Abandoned as a newborn and taken in by the monastery

5 years old

Received a fossil from Brother Luke for his birthday

7 years old

Had his hand burnt by Father Gabriel

Sexual abuse by the Brothers began

8 years old

Given a set of wooden logs for his birthday

Abducted by Brother Luke and forced into prostitution

11 years old

Began cutting himself

12 years old

Rescued from Brother Luke

Placed in a boys group home in Montana

13 years old

Meets the Learys

Beaten by the counselors, causing life-long scarring on his back

14 years old

Runs away from the group home in Montana

Abducted by Dr. Traylor and held captive for four months

15 years old

Run over by Dr. Traylor, causing his life-long disability

Rescued from Dr. Traylor

Meets Ana

Begins living with the Douglasses

16 years old

Ana passes away

Briefly lives in an emergency shelter

Has a summer job at a bakery

Leaves Philadelphia, and starts his undergraduate study at an unnamed college in Boston

17 years old

Met Andy Contractor

Gifted a model house by Malcolm

18 years old

Began working as a classics professor's amanuensis

Dr. Traylor dies in prison

20 years old

Graduated from his undergraduate study and goes to France for the first time

Began Law School at (presumably) Harvard

Began his Pure Math Master's degree from MIT

Met Harold Stein and Julia Altman

21 years old

Stayed at Harold and Julia's house for the first time and imagined they were his parents

Had an unspecified internship during the summer

Invited to Harold and Julia's summer house, Truro, for the first time

22 years old

Learned to drive (from Harold)

23 years old

Graduated Law School

Graduated Masters at MIT

Began his clerkship in Washington, living in the living room of an unnamed legislative assistant

24 years old

Given keys to the Cambridge house by Julia

25 years old

Moved to New York, living at Malcolm's parents' house

Began working at the U.S Attorney as an assistant prosecutor

Moved out of Malcom's parents' house to Lispenard St

26 years old

Has his first episode in front of Harold, who sings to him

Willem finds out about his cutting

Jumps off a roof with his friends at Lispenard St

27 years old

Broke the mug that Jacob made

Attended Andy's wedding

29 years old

Began tutoring Felix

30 years old

Adopted by Harold and Julia <3

31 years old

First contacted by Lucien after working on case for Thackery Smith

Finalized the contract for a job at Rosen Pritchard, after the elevator broke once more at Lispenard

Contacted by Rob Wilson (Some unknown from the home)

32 years old

Bought his Green Street apartment

35 years old

Became a partner at Rosen Pritchard (the youngest one in the firm's history)

36 years old

Picked out a suit for Malcolm for his wedding that would happen that year

Began the renovations for Greene Street

37 years old

Broke off his friendship with JB after the latter mocks his disability

38 years old

Scolded by Harold out at dinner for working at Rosen Pritchard

40 years old

His former Master's advisor, Dr. Kashen, passes away

Attended his former classmates, Lionel and Sinclair's, wedding

Began dating Caleb Porter

Broke up with Caleb Porter

41 years old

Attempts suicide and is briefly institutionalized

Goes to Morroco

43 years old

Caleb port a potty dies <3

Began dating Willem

45 years old

Has his big fight with Willem and tells him about his childhood

46 years old

Buys a flat in London on Harley Street

The last time he would truly walk on his own. No aides, no prosthetics. This is during a trip to Bhutan

47 years old

Starts getting lots of wounds on his legs and bone infections

48 years old

Gets his legs amputated

49 years old

Starts walking again

50 years old

Set up scholarships for Julia and Harold at their respective universities

Loses both Willem and Malcolm (and Sophie) to a drunk driving accident

51 years old

His loved ones hold an intervention for him

52 years old

Went to Rome

Taught Harold how to cook

Asked to be the chairman of Rosen Pritchard

53 years old

Took his own life :(

If there's anything here you think should be added let me know. And of course this isn't every single thing that happened to Jude, just some main events or events that helped pinpoint the timeline. So if there's a scene/event/anything that you'd like to know the timeline of, let me know (inbox)

[labuenosairesfrancaise]

Nun Appleton House

Hi guys!!

I'm sharing Nun Appleton House. This is the 13th building for my English Collection.

I added aa garden, which is my own creation and not the original of the house.

History of the house: The hall itself is built of reddish-orange brick with ashlar dressings and a Welsh slate roof in three storeys to a rectangular floor plan. It is grade II listed and now stands in some 200 ha. of parkland.

The estate was acquired by The 1st Lord Fairfax of Cameron, a Yorkshireman with a Scottish peerage, following the Dissolution of the Monasteries, from whom it descended to The 3rd Lord Fairfax of Cameron, the well-known English Civil War commander, who built the present hall in the late 1600s.

In his time (1651) the estate was the inspiration for Andrew Marvell's Upon Appleton House, a significant country house poem. Marvell was tutor to Thomas Fairfax's daughter, Mary. After the death of Mary (who had married The 2nd Duke of Buckingham) in 1704 the estate was eventually sold in 1711 to Alderman William Milner of Leeds who carried out many alterations to the house.

His son William was created the 1st Milner Baronet, of Nun Appleton Hall in the County of York, in 1717 and was later Member of Parliament for York. The estate then descended in the Milner family until 1875, when the estate's owner, Sir William Mordaunt Milner, 6th Baronet, was more interested in gambling than looking after it.

By 1877 it had been leased to William Beckett-Denison, a wealthy Leeds banker. After the death of Sir William Milner in Cairo in 1881, his brother Frederick inherited the estate and in 1882 married Adeline, eldest daughter of William Beckett-Denison. After William Beckett's gruesome death in 1890, the Hall and estate were sold to Angus Holden, a sometime M.P. (later created Baron Holden), a woollen manufacturer from Bradford, whose ownership was somewhat brief as he died in 1912.

The hall was now empty and many of the tenanted farms were sold. The estate was put up for auction in 1914 and again in 1917 and eventually acquired by a private company which felled many of the trees but by 1919 had gone into liquidation. It was bought in 1920 by Sir Benjamin Dawson, 1st Baronet, another Bradford textile manufacturer, who was High Sheriff of Yorkshire for 1951–52. During the Second World War the hall was taken over by the London Maternity Hospital.

 When the stable block accidentally burnt down it was afterwards refurbished as a theatre and made available to the local community.

The property was bought from the last occupant, Sir Benjamin's daughter Joan Dawson, for £1.2 million in the 1980s by Humphrey Smith of the Samuel Smith brewing family. The house is now fenced off, empty, unused and deteriorating.

Video below check it out

For more info: https://www.facebook.com/story.php/?story_fbid=928431841986992&id=100044605540042&_rdr

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

This house fits a 50x50 lot (I think if you lose the gaden and terrace it can fit a 50x40 too)

I furnished just the principal rooms, so you get an idea. The rest is unfurnished so you create the interiors to your taste!

Hope you like it.

You will need the usual CC I use:

all Felixandre cc

all The Jim,

SYB

Anachrosims

Regal Sims

King Falcon railing

The Golden Sanctuary

Cliffou

Dndr recolors

Harrie cc

Tuds

Lili's palace cc

Please enjoy, comment if you like it and share pictures with me if you use my creations!

Free to download blueprint: https://www.patreon.com/user?u=75230453

[enbysiriusblack]

I'm not sure if you've made a post about this before or not. But what do you think Sirius and Regulus' childhood was like?

i think i have? but oh well

very very cold. i think they spent most of their time with tutors, like learning charms, potions, transfig, dark arts, astronomy, arithmancy, history, runes, as well as stuff like reading, calligraphy, maths, politics, piano, violin, flying, etiquette, etc. sirius also had playdates set up by walburga (with people like evan rosier, mulciber, the carrows, avery, xenophilius (i hc him as a malfoy), etc. whereas regulus didn't really as he barely spoke as a kid & was awkward with interacting with others, plus he wasn't the heir so it wasn't as important for him to have important acquaintances. they'd also have a lot of parties & functions they have to go to all the time. I also think sirius snuck out quite often, even as a kid, to just walk around london for a couple hours whilst regulus refused and would sit in his room doing his studies that sirius had finished ages ago. i also think they'd still be allowed to play, and sirius would be very much in charge of it when they played together. like telling regulus what to do or what they should play with, he'd come into regulus' room with a bundle of blankets and pillows and tell him they're going to make a fortress, or he'd raid the kitchens in the middle of the night and wake regulus up and say they're having a picnic in the parlour with their stuffed toys and dolls. I also think walburga was more present as a parent, like I think they had tutors for everything other than etiquette and reading, which walburga taught them. she also would occasionally play with them, more so when they were very young, and read stories to them. whereas orion was more just there during all mealtimes and at functions, or with making sirius sit in his office and trying to condition him into the perfect heir.

[cameronspecial]

Secrets In Tangled (Part 1)

Pairing: Anthony Lockwood x Reader

Warnings: Running Away.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.8K

Summary: Being the daughter of Penelope Fittes isn't all that it is cracked up to be. She really wishes her mother would let her leave the manor.

A/N: Taglist is open for this story.

Masterlist

Most children with talent in England would love to be the child of a Fittes. The prestige that comes with just mentioning one works for Fittes is bountiful, so being related to one would multiply that by a hundred. But Y/N Fittes knew better than most. The role of Peneolpe’s daughter is not one that played out for her how most people expected. Y/N is a secret meant to be hidden away from the world. It is done out of the guise of protecting her from the harm people would want to inflict on her because of her last name, but who would want a talentless child? No matter how much she begged her mother, Y/N wasn’t allowed to go to the outside world, which meant she turned to her academics and sports to impress her mother to let her go. 

The only handful of people who knew of her existence are tutors, coaches and doctors. All adults. She learnt a wide range of subjects from a young age ranging from the history of the problem to French. She pushed herself to excel in fencing and a variety of martial arts. But no matter how well she mastered fencing against her instructor, it would not change the fact that she is powerless against a visitor. Her days have become pretty mundane and routine. She knows she is privileged. She has a safe place to live, food, and every physical object she could want. If she asked for an elephant, it would appear the next day in a newly built habitat. She would have the space on the spacious property of the manor she lives in just outside of London. But she still couldn’t help but wonder when her life would begin. 

——

Y/N is currently practicing her fencing techniques on one of the state of the arts dummy her mother had created for her. Y/N’s back is turned to the door, so the only way she knew her mother had arrived is by the opening of the gym door. She lowers her rapier, turning toward the woman. “Hello, my dear. How are your lessons coming along?” her mother inquires, approaching her daughter to give her a kiss on the forehead. Y/N moves gently away from Penelope, “They are going well. I got a hundred on all of my exams, Sir Rupert has said that my glazad is improving. And all my martial coaches have confirmed that I am on track to moving up a degree. So can I please go into London now?”

“No, dear. You know why I don’t want people to know you exist. They will hurt you to get to me. I can’t allow that to happen. How about you take up photography instead? Yes, I think that is a brilliant idea. I’ll get you a photography instructor.”

“I don’t want to do photography. I want to be around people my own age. I want to go to school. I want to know how it feels to be in a crowded restaurant that is too noise. I just feel so lonely here by myself.” 

“Then we’ll get you a cat. You can give it whatever name you want. What kind do you want?”

“Mother, please. The only thing I want is to be able to go into society like any normal teenage girl.”

“Well, that is not happening. So get over it. I am ending this conversation, now. I will come back when you finally see some sense in what I am offering.” 

With that, Penelope Fittes storms away from her daughter, leaving her to wonder if she will ever truly get to live. 

——

She knows her decision is reckless, but she needed to do it for her own sanity. She is eighteen and has never talked to anyone her own age. Packing her things is difficult, she isn’t sure exactly what she will need because of the fact that she’s only really seen London in the tabloids or on tv. She doesn’t have much money, just what she is able to pickpocket from the various people allowed into the house. So she packs that into the bag along with her favourite clothes, toiletries, a few knick-knacks and her journal that has all of her childhood photos. Once the bag is ready, she uses her knowledge to disarm the alarm system on her bedroom window and then exits using it. She stands on the roof of the wrap-around porch and dangles herself from it to safely get down. She really hopes she had correctly turned off the security cameras or else she would not have much time. 

She takes her bike out of the garage and heads to the hedge at the edge of the property. This had been a part of her plan for a while now, so she had slowly worked on making an opening in the bushes. It is big enough for her and her bike without any struggle. She makes it through and is now off of the property. Using the map, Y/N makes her way to the train station. The money she stole is just enough to pay for the train ticket and a sandwich, which she eats on the journey to her destination. A few hours later, she has reached her destination and is now in the bustling streets of London. She didn’t exactly think her whole plan through seeing as she has no place to stay tonight. She really did think her money would be enough for more, but since she was wrong, she decides to explore the city. 

The long line outside of the coffee shops attracts her attention immediately. She waits in line to enter and immediately realizes she can’t get anything when she is at the till, so she embarrassingly makes her way toward the door. The big lettering of a poster on the corkboard causes her to pause to examine it. It is a want ad for an assistant at a place called Lockwood & Co. It felt as though fate is helping her out. She pulls out her map to try to figure out how to find the address. 

——

To her surprise, 35 Portland Row is a residential house and not an agency building. It does not stop her from knocking on the door. The door opens with a breeze and behind it is just about the most beautiful boy she has ever seen. Although, he is the only boy she has ever seen in real life. He stands taller than her and his beautiful cheeky smirk could not hide the tiredness in his eyes that is amplified by his eye bag. It doesn’t deter her from thinking he is handsome. His hair is perfectly gelled and he is wearing a suit that is just shy of being the right size with beat-up trainers. “Can I help you?” his melodic voice snaps her out of her observations. She has never talked to anyone her age before and she feels a little shy, “Umm, hi. I’m Y/N Y/L/N. I’d… uh… like to apply for the assistant position.” She decides to use her father’s last name just to be safe. “Ahh, brilliant. Well, I’m Lockwood and I’ll be your interviewer,” the handsome boy leaves the doorway, leading her toward the front room. 

He motions her towards the couch, sitting in the armchair across from it. “So do you have any experience as an assistant to an agency?” he questions. 

“Uh, no. But I am very organized and have good time-management skills. I’m also very good at doing research so I can help with that too.”

“Okay, that’s good. It’s not a requirement, but do you have a talent.”

“No, I don’t.” 

“And since you haven’t handed me a resume, I’m going to assume you don’t have any.”

“I do not. But I promise that if you hire me, I will be the best assistant you have ever had. I will work my hardest to satisfy you.” 

“Okay, I believe you. You’re hired.”

Honestly, Y/N is shocked. She knew the job interview was a long shot without any experience or resume, but that went faster than she thought it would. Lockwood isn’t entirely sure he should be hiring this beautiful girl, who came in out of nowhere without any of the formal work documents. But when has he ever done anything conventionally? Plus, he recognizes the look of need in her eyes. It reminds him of someone else he once let in even though she didn’t really have her level four certificate. Lockwood stands up from his chair and motions for her to follow, “Come on. Let’s go meet the others.” 

Y/N follows him into a cozy kitchen with a short-haired girl drawing on the inked-filled tablecloth and a curly hair boy reading a newspaper. “Y/N, this is our resident listener, Lucy Carlyle and our resident researcher, George Karim. You guys, meet our newest member, Y/N Y/L/N,” Lockwood introduces. Y/N gives a shy smile and waves to the others. Before this morning, she had never been in the same room as another teen and now she is in one with three. George looks up at her in disinterest, “You can only take one biscuit at a time and you have to wait your turn to get your biscuit.” Y/N nods her head at the random rule thrust upon her but understands the logic behind it. “Wouldn’t it just be easy to count the cookies and then divide that amongst you guys?” she poses. 

“No… Okay, maybe. But we didn’t think about that. So that’s our rule.”  

The group awkwardly stares at each other. Y/N doesn’t really know how to continue a conversation when it isn’t about her academics, martial arts, or arguing with her mother. Lucy can sense the uncomfortableness Y/N is drowning in, so she decides to rescue her. Just like Lockwood, Lucy can sense the need Y/N has to find a home and decides to take her under her wing, “How about I take you on a tour?” Y/N nods and goes after Lucy, who is starting her tour. 

——

Lucy shows her all around the house, including a very cool training system, which Y/N will probably be found at late at night. The final stop of the tour is Lucy’s attic room. The room is decorated in polaroids and peppered with cassettes. It feels like a home. “And this is going to be our room,” Lucy announces, turning around towards the shocked girl. 

“How did you know?” 

“I can recognize a fellow runaway. It’s okay, we won’t pry into your past. But we can share this room. You can borrow any of my clothes and we’ll get you your own bed this weekend. Is that okay?” 

“It is more than okay. Thank you so much!”

Y/N wraps Lucy in a big hug as thanks. She can’t explain it, but she feels safe with this small trio of friends she just met. This day has gone by so fast and she just hopes she got away with her great escape. 

[waxdream]

Trigger warning - adoption, suicide, trauma, objectification.

I need to talk about adoption in Flatland. I'm adopted, so the details of this part of the story are a bit hazy due to dissociation. But like, Abbott has so many little points in his book that it impresses me. I can't tell if he did it on purpose, but if he did, damn am I impressed.

I went to the foundling museum in London a few years ago. I cried a lot, seeing the stolen items, and the exhibition of 'adoptees/orphans/fosterlings in comic books' that was downstairs. That was my favourite museum exhibition ever. My item I had from my birth mother is a candle that sits on my shelf. It's blue, and I didn't know what it was for a long long time, until one day I was about to throw it away. Luckily, I asked my adoptive mother if she wanted it, and she told me what it was. I almost threw part of my history away.

Which leads me into flatland, and the equilateral triangles. A class of adoptees. The only adoptions mentioned in the book are forced apon triangle families by the state for 'angular purity', and in order to give higher class people with an inability to have children the chance to adopt. In a modern context, I would take this as a scathing read of the adoption system. Only lower class, male children with desireable qualities are eligible for this kind of class crossing adoption, and the birth family celebrate it. The lower class is indoctrinated into thinking that 'this is for the best'.

In the UK at the time of my adoption, I've been told the desirable child was a white baby girl with no obvious disabilities, blonde hair and blue eyes. My foster carers were ineligible to adopt me, and the cynic in me believes this was because I was considered an object with 'desireable' qualities. The shadow court in my mind says 'it could have made some rich middle class family very happy' when I'm feeling grumpy and objectified. Luckily, a charity helped fund my foster (now adoptive) family's court battle, and a law change in the second year of it allowed them to win. I got lucky.

I see a lot of parallels between my own adoption and the adoptions in Flatland. People saying 'it's for the best', who don't realise that many adoptions take place because poor, mentally ill and young people can't take care of children because of lack of support and money. The scalene triangles in Flatland could have raised the equilateral merchant class, given enough resources and better schooling. Just like how A square is able to Tutor his grandson Hex - a lawyer teaching someone of a higher class skills he himself does not necessarily need to know.

I can't help but think about how those trinkets didn't stay with the foundlings who lived in that house. How I almost threw my candle away. The triangles have the physical reminder of their shape, and yet still, they are told they are different. They are regular, not like those other triangles, "you're one of us, you always have been", a square father might say to his new son. "We deserve to have you". And then, when the triangle grows up, and his wife (who's own father was a square) gives birth to an irregular triangle, the filth of that triangle's DNA is shown once again, despite the outward appearence of regularity. That's what my own adoption feels like. I always waited to be revealed for the imposter that I was. But I wonder if in a way that feels cathartic for them - like the immense relief I felt when my adoptive mother saved my candle from the trash. It's proof that your adoption exists, that you exist as a complex, multifaceted shape.

I wonder if the pressure of being regular was removed from that man's shoulders when his son was not born a square, but a triangle. Maybe his wife divorced him and he remarries within his original class - a safer, more understand place. Is that a happy ending? Is there a happy ending for adoptees? I never used to think there was. I used to think my life would end soon. Not today but tomorrow, or other similar things I'd tell myself. "I'd be content if I died today" would be said often by the regular triangle.

I wanted to be a hexagon when I thought about what shape I'd be. But no, the humble equilateral triangle is for me. He was not born a girl like I was. But perhaps they're also non binary like me.

Noone is born thinking they are tainted. You're taught that by other people. The regular triangle is told to their face they are normal, and nothing is wrong, that their adoption never affected them. When the regular triangle realised they're trans and autistic, and had that validated, that's when they felt like a real shape. Not a doll. Not an object. I still feel tainted sometimes. It's hard not to when society teaches you your DNA is wrong. And sadly, I think that's a feeling so so many of us feel - adoptees and non adoptees alike.

Your DNA is not wrong. That's a lie. It's a dangerous lie that permeates modern society, not out in the open but under covers. Every time someone says 'it's not the same' in regards to adoption, it's a perpetuation of that lie.

If your feelings are that adoption as lesser, you need to seriously examine your mindset. Because it's a mindset that holds DNA as sacred, as important. And having that mindset is something that easily divides us as a people - it's giving an inch. What's important is who we are, our life experiences, the things that make us different from each other and the points in our lives that shape us. Society shapes us. Racism and patriarchy and homophobia and ableism - these negatives do shape us. DNA has a place in who we are too, but my point is that there's so much more to it than that. The friends we discover, the things we learn, growing as people, the beauty in the world.

And I had to learn that the hard way, because the only thing that society teaches adoptees is that they're replacements. Second best. Whatever other words you have for 'btech birth kid'. Just know, any fellow adoptees, that none of that is true.

I'm happy to answer questions, because I doubt my point is coming across as well as I wanted. The triangles have got me feeling sad, and I haven't even researched phrenology yet. To clarify all my points, adoption feels sucky, racism is awful, you are more than just what society tells you you are, I am the triangle (apart from all the marriage stuff - replace that part with learning I'm trans and autistic, it serves the same purpose in my narrative).

[prettyinpurplelights]

IV.

“I cannot believe we actually made it.” Mia gripped your hand excitedly, her acrylic nails digging painfully into your skin.

“Girl, hold my hand any tighter and you’ll crush my bones. I won’t have a hand to collect my diploma with.” You giggled softly, prying her fingers off the back of your hand so you could lace your fingers together instead, her sweaty palm pressing against yours.

“Sorry.” She replied and you squeezed her hand in response. “I’m just so nervous, can you believe after all our hard work, we’re finally here?”

“I know.” You sighed, looking out into the audience of family members and friends that were filling into the giant cathedral to watch and support their loved ones on one of the most important days of their lives. You and Mia had finally come to the end of your degrees, and today would encapsulate the last four years of all nighters and countless assignments. You were graduating with a Master’s degree in fashion design and marketing, Mia in medical neuroscience with psychology. As well as saying goodbye to your university, you were both parting ways with the city too, leaving Marseille for Paris early the following morning. During your final year, your main project was to put on your own fashion show, making the pieces as well as being responsible for promoting and marketing the event. You didn’t sleep for several weeks, but it had all been worth it because the show was a huge success, landing you the highest grade in your cohort as well as a job waiting for you at Louis Vuitton, whom having interned for them the summer before, and after your show being such a hit, offered you a place at their headquarters in Paris. Mia had also secured a fellowship in one of the biggest hospitals in the country, working with their research department on new treatments and cures and finding the causes for all sorts of illnesses to do with the brain that she had tried to explain to you but had gone completely over your head. All you understood was that it was incredibly competitive and very hard to get into, so you were extremely proud of her, and very excited to start this new chapter of your young adult lives together. You had already leased an apartment to share, and moved almost all your stuff over during the summer break. It was now a matter of starting to unpack and make it more of a home when you both returned to Paris for the last time in less than 24 hours.

“Ouuu I see Elliot!” Mia squealed, waving her hand that wasn’t holding yours excitedly. “He’s with our parents, come on, let's go and say hi before grad starts.” She stood up, dragging you down the small steps where the choir would usually be during mass, instead, today, it was where the graduates were to be seated during the graduation ceremony. She pulled you through the aisle, mumbling a few excuse me’s as you weaved through the sea of people talking to each other, the atmosphere electrified with excitement and anticipation for the upcoming ceremony.

“Mommy, Daddy!” Mia's smile grew wider as she hugged her parents tightly. Her parents had moved to London when she was 14, her dad’s hotel business was expanding and he’d started to branch out into the rest of Europe. Mia was supposed to have gone with them but she didn’t want to move to England, and after a lot of bargaining, she’d managed to agree with her parents that she’d live with her grandmother instead, hence how you became friends, she had moved to Bondy late into the school year and the only spare seat in your form tutor was next to you and the rest was history. Unfortunately, Mia’s grandmother had passed away just before she was due to start university, and since she was officially an adult, her parents let her stay in France. She’d fly out to see them regularly but it had been a while since she last saw them, and they’re very busy people so you knew she was very pleased to have them here and you’re glad they could show up for her.

You hugged your own parents, your dad clicking at his camera repeatedly, making sure he had enough photos to commemorate this occasion.

“Dad, I don’t even think I’m in the frame in the one you just took.” You laughed at him, as he squinted behind the lens.

“Close enough! I’m so proud of you, my sweet baby girl.” He leant over to kiss your cheek before walking off, muttering about finding someone to take a group photograph.

“You know I don’t think he made such a fuss when I was graduating.” Elliot appeared by your side, his hand reaching up to grab your cap, to remove it so he could ruffle your hair. You ducked under his arm, knowing exactly what he was trying to do and pushed him away from you.

“Don’t you dare El, I was up at 6 this morning doing my hair, you’re not messing it up!” You scowled. “And besides, we both know I’m mum and dad’s favourite.” You added. A smug smile spread across your face as you shrugged your shoulders.

“Whatever,” he rolled his eyes. “At least I’m the smart one, all you do is play with pretty fabric all day.” Elliot had graduated with a degree in sports science the year before, ending up at PSG, working as part of their medical staff. From what he had told you, he was really enjoying himself, and it probably helped that it was the same team Kylian played for, those two together, you were sure they were putting the other PSG players and staff members through hell.

“You know without people like Y/N, the rest of us would have nothing to wear, you’d be naked right now.” Mia slid up to Elliot, her arm wrapping around his waist as his went over her shoulder and squeezed it.

“I know you wouldn’t complain about that.” He replied.

“Mmmm, probably not.” She looked up at him, pursing her lips as he reached down to kiss her.

“Ew, the both of you. Please, I’m literally standing right here.”

They both laughed, pulling away just as your dad returned, some poor 20-something looking boy in his stead, holding the camera.

“Where’s Marco? Is he not coming?” Elliot asked, craning his head around to see if he could spot your boyfriend.

“Um…he’s in Tokyo. We broke up.”

Ex-boyfriend.

“Oh shit, sorry sis. What hap-“

“Group photo everyone, quick together!” Your dad interrupted his sentence, and you were thankful for his extraness in that moment, not wanting to answer any questions about your break-up. Your dad ushered you, your mum, Elliot, Mia and her parents into a huddle. It took a couple of minutes to organise everybody, your dad was kind of a perfectionist; it’s probably where Elliot got it from. You were stood between Mia and your mum, your brother behind the both of you. You turned to face him and from the look in your eyes and the way your lip turned downward slightly, he knew what you were going to ask, the issue of Marco long forgotten. Someone else was on your mind now.

“He’s going to be here Y/N. He might be a bit late, but he’ll be here.”

“He didn’t come down with you?”

“I had to pick Mum and Dad up so we got a later flight, he said he’d make it down himself. He wouldn’t miss this. I’m sure he’s on his way.”

You nodded, as you turned back to the boy holding the camera, mustering up the biggest smile you could, trying to ignore the way your heart felt so heavy in your chest and the sudden way your gown started to feel stuffy and uncomfortable. You and Kylian weren’t on bad terms, in fact, you were great. It had been almost three years since you’d decided to take a step back from him, and focus on yourself and who you were outside loving him. Not to say you stopped loving him, you don’t think that was something you’d ever be able to do, but you’d reached a point where he wasn’t all you thought about and it didn’t dictate everything you did and consume your entire being. You’d even managed to date someone this year, your first official boyfriend, Marco, for about 10 months, until he had to move to Japan for a student exchange transfer and you’d mutually decided to end things while you were on a good note because long distance for a whole year was not worth it; you’d remained friends though. You liked him a lot, but you didn’t love him, which was one of the reasons why he’d also agreed, howbeit reluctantly, to break up before his transfer, he’d told you he loved you 2 months prior and you were still yet to say it back. He had wanted to stay for you, but you encouraged him to go, not wanting to hold him back, especially when his feelings were so strong for you and yours were…well, not as strong. You didn’t want to disappoint him if you still couldn’t commit several months down the line and he’d thrown his future away for you.

“Graduates please make your way to your assigned seats, the ceremony will begin in 5 minutes.”

You and Mia hugged your families one more time before making your way back towards the stage. Your phone buzzed in your hand as you sat down, bringing it up to your face.

“Kylian?” Mia asked, her inquisitive nature causing her to lean over your shoulder and read the text on your phone.

“Ouuuu Marcoooo.” She sang teasingly as sat back and unlocked her own phone.

Hey, I know we’re not together anymore, but you’re still my friend so I wanted to wish you luck today! ♥️ proud of you always

Thank you Marco 🥺 I really appreciate it. How’s Japan treating you?

It’s amazing. The culture is just wow. And the sushi DEFINITELY tastes better here. You’d love it.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, ready to type out a reply when he sent another message.

I miss you.

You heard Mia wince audibly next to you, obviously reading the conversation between you and Marco.

“Get your big ass head out of my business.” You bumped your shoulder against hers as you sent Marco a quick reply about the ceremony starting so you had to go, not at all in the mood to unpack what that “I miss you” meant.

“Shame. I liked Marco. He was good for you.”

“Mmmm.”

“At least he congratulated you, better than that idiot your brother calls a best friend.”

“Ky’s our best friend too. And I thought you were on his side? Team KyY/N?”

“That was two years ago Y/N. He couldn’t even be bothered to send you a message about not coming.”

“El said he’d be here.”

“You think so?”

“I told him about today personally. He promised me he’d be here. For the both of us.”

“Oh we both know which one of us he’s coming for. And honestly I couldn’t give a fuck if he shows up for me, no offence. But for you? I’m skinning him alive the second we get to Paris.”

“He’ll be here.” You whispered to no one, almost as though you were trying to convince yourself. He had given you his word he wouldn’t miss today when you’d called him a few months ago about it. Initially you thought it might be weird, speaking to him on the phone, since you’d only been texting recently, but the thing about you and Kylian is no matter how much time you spent apart, you never fail to fall right back into your usual stead of things.

You hadn’t seen him since your birthday at the end of January, where there’d been a sort of awkward moment when you’d introduced him to Marco, who then had been your official boyfriend for a couple of weeks. He had just gotten back together with Renee, they had been together since your little confrontation at the airport two years back when you’d told him to focus on her. They had been on and off since they’d started dating, from what you’ve seen in the media, Kylian never really talked to you about her. From what you’d read over the course of the years, they’d broken up a couple of times, not that you cared or were keeping count.

******

He picked up after 3 rings, his face filling the screen when he answered. You gave him a little wave and a smile spread across his features, his dimples greeting you.

“Y/N. Hey.”

“Hi!” You replied, your voice chirpier than you’d expected it to be.

“You okay? Did something happen?”

He must’ve noticed the way you anxiously chewed at your bottom lip, your telltale sign something was wrong or you were nervous. In a similar way, he would squeeze his eyebrows together and his nose would twitch involuntarily when he was feeling the same. The harder he scrunched his eyebrows, the less nervous he was, the increased frequency of frown lines strewn across his forehead meant he was more likely to be angry instead. You knew each other’s tics and tells, probably better than you knew your own. By logic you and Kylian should’ve worked, you complemented and contrasted each other in the most perfect ways, but for some reason, the universe didn’t seem to agree and rather preferred to have the two of you in constant awkward situations and miscommunications leading to petty arguments. It was a quite cruel joke to be honest.

“Um, no, everything’s fine, I’m good. I was just wondering what you were doing August 1st.”

“Hmmm, the league starts again the week after that I’m sure, so just training.”

“Or nothing, if that’s what you need me to be doing.” He added and you couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered a little bit his words.

“Well Mia and I are finally graduating on the 1st. My parents and Elliot will be there. I was wondering if you wanted to come-“

“I’ll be there.”

“Really?” He laughed at your response.

“Gummy, you’ve wanted to be a fashion designer for as long as I’ve known you. I remember when you took it upon yourself to be mine and El’s stylists in middle school, I don’t even know why I let you do that, you used to put me in the most ridiculous outfits.”

“All you wanted to wear to school was your football kit.” You rolled your eyes. “I was trying to broaden your horizon a little bit.”

“Even then, you had talent, I can’t even imagine what you’re able to do now.”

“Well not to brag, but I am on track to finish top of my class.”

“Didn’t expect anything less from my girl.” He smiled genuinely and heat rose rapidly to your cheeks as you looked away from him for a moment.

“Of course I want to be there for you. But are you sure you’re 100% about it? Not to brag, but I am kind of a hotshot on the football scene right now.” He mocked, using your words against you playfully.

“Oh shut up!”

He laughed again, before continuing.

“I’m serious though Y/N, I know you like to stay out of the limelight and stuff, I don’t want to ruin that for you or steal attention away. This isn’t a private party like your birthday.”

“I want you there Ky, I want everyone I love there. I’ll be okay.” You nodded. Just then, you heard your boyfriend call out from your bedroom, his voice growing louder as he neared you in the kitchen.

“You ready babe?” He wrapped his arms around your waist, pressed a kiss against your cheek when he noticed you were on the phone.

“Oh hey man!” He waved at the screen. “How are you doing Kylian!”

“Hey…Marco. I’m good.” The smile on Kylian’s face dropped briefly as he greeted your boyfriend with a slight grimace. You quirked your eyebrow, wondering what the hell that was about but now it was his turn to break eye contact, looking everywhere but at you and Marco.

“How’s Renee?”

“Ummm she’s good. We’re…good.”

“Still can’t believe this guy is dating the biggest supermodel in the world, very fitting.”

You scowled, turning to face Marco, his comment grating on you a little bit.

“As opposed to you dating what?” You questioned, daring him to say some more bullshit.

“The hottest, smartest, kindest girl in the world of course.”

“Hmmm, better be.”

“How did you deal with her quick temper all your life Kylian?” Marco asked, and you elbowed his rib in response.

“You see what I mean?” He laughed, walking away from you. Kylian didn’t even bat an eye, he looked like he wanted to be anywhere else in the world at that moment.

“So anyways-“ You started but Kylian interrupted you, the words tumbling out of his mouth faster than you could register them.

“I gotta go. But I’ll be there August 1st. You have my word.”

“Oh, okay, yeah sure. Say hi to Renee for me.” You had barely managed to get out before he ended the FaceTime abruptly.

******

That was the last time you’d spoken, save the occasional text, but not once had he mentioned he wouldn’t be able to make it to your graduation. So by the time the ceremony was done and you had collected your diploma and walked down the aisle to cheers from your family, received more congratulations and took even more pictures and said your goodbyes to your family, to say you were simply pissed off was a great understandment. Some fool had even thought it would be funny to do Kylian’s infamous goal celebration in front of the cameras before collecting his diploma which amused everyone in the cathedral but vexed you even more. Kylian had always been there for you, he’s always tried his best to be present when you needed him, this was one of very few times he hadn’t shown up for you. But it hurt still, this was probably the most important thing you’d needed him for, and he’d not even bothered to shoot you a text he would be a no show.

“I know for sure he got on that plane Y/N.” Elliot had tried to reassure you earlier when you’d walked him and your parents to the Uber they had booked to take them back to the airport.

“Well that means fuck all to me. He’s not here.”

“Gosh he’s such an idiot. I’m going to skin him alive when I see him.”

“Funny your girlfriend said the same thing.” You laughed, but not really feeling humoured in the slightest. “Don’t worry about it El, I don’t know why I expected any different from him.”

“I know he has the funniest way of showing it, but he cares about you Y/N. And he loves you.” You ignored his comment, giving him one last hug before he slid into the front seat of the cab.

“I love you El.”

“Love you too sis. Always. You and Mia have fun tonight alright? And I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

You nodded, saying goodbye to your parents once more before the car pulled away. Mia appeared at your side, leaning her head on your shoulder.

“Mia?”

“Mmhm?” She replied.

“Let’s get absolutely fucking wasted tonight.”

———

“Why the fuck did you listen to me when I said we should get wasted last night.” You groaned, flopping onto the couch, your suitcases abandoned by the door. You’d finally arrived at your apartment in Paris, a little before midday, exhausted and terribly hungover.

“You looked like you needed it.” Mia sat by your side, laying your head on her chest and rubbing your shoulders.

“You’re so lucky you recover quickly, I still feel like I’ve been hit by a monster truck.”

“I’m gonna go out and do some food shopping, I’ll bring you something. Get some rest.”

You’d practically gone straight from the bar to the train station. You, Mia and your group of university friends had gone out to celebrate graduating, and also spend one last night together before you all split and went your different ways. It had been a great night, but you’re definitely regretting it now, as you were sure the others were too. You hadn’t even had a chance to shower as you and Mia had to pack the last of your stuff and hand in your old keys to the landlord before 7am since the train to Paris Lyon was leaving Marseille St. Charles around 8.

You decided to take a long shower while Mia was gone, you usually felt much better after a good soak. You’re glad to have your little travel toiletries bag because you had absolutely no idea where anything was; the apartment was filled with countless unopened cardboard boxes. You had about two weeks before your new job started so you and Mia could hopefully unpack and decorate in that time.

Definitely starting tomorrow. There was absolutely no way you’d be putting together furniture and organising your wardrobe today, you planned to stay in bed as long as you could instead.

You had just stepped out of the shower when you heard the doorbell ring, probably Mia who had forgotten her keys. You wrapped your towel around you, securing it as you opened the door.

“Did you not take your key-“ You looked up, your sentence breaking down half way through when you realised it wasn’t Mia in front of you. You rolled your eyes, moving to close the door in his face but he was quick, his foot reaching out to block the door from locking.

“Y/N, hear me out, please.”

“I don’t give a fuck about what you have to say Kylian, take your foot out of the way before I crush it.”

“I have boba?”

You paused for a second, still refusing to look at him.

“What flavour.”

“Mango milk tea with passion fruit pearls. I brought croissants too, from the best bakery in Paris. Very expensive. Very tasty.”

You opened the door wider, letting him walk through, cursing him for knowing you so well. He set the items on the little bit of space he could find on the kitchen worktop that wasn’t covered in boxes before turning to look at you.

His eyes scanned your body, starting at your legs, stopping when his eyes met yours. You felt stuck to the spot, your blood turning to lead as your eyes remained fixed on his, his mouth slightly ajar, your heart pounding fast. You forgot you were angry at him for a minute, flashbacks of the last time he’d seen you like this flickering across your mind instead as you suddenly remembered you were wearing next to nothing. Your hands came up to cover your chest and legs, breaking the both of you out of your hypnotic state.

“Umm…I’ll be back. Gonna put something on.” You muttered.

“Yeah…umm…sure, I’ll wait here.”

You raced to your room as quickly as you could, ignoring the funny feeling in your stomach and the way your heart was racing like it was running out of time. You rummaged through the boxes, trying to find one that had some clothes in it. After a couple of minutes of sifting through books and shoes and everything else, you managed to find a bag at the bottom of one of the boxes with your gym clothing.

You pulled the shorts and a t-shirt over your head, rolling your eyes when you realised which top you were wearing. You walked back into the room with your arms crossed, trying your best to look angry as you faced Kylian, a smile spreading across his face when he noticed your top.

“Wipe that smug grin off your face, I could only find my gym stuff and it was the only top in there.”

“You work out with my name on your back?” He held out the boba to you, his eyebrow raised in amusement.

“Shut up. These jerseys are surprisingly very breathable.” You snatched the plastic cup out of his grasp, piercing the film lid with the straw and taking a sip.

“Well yeah, we do run around in them for 90 minutes so we’d hope they’re breathable. Remind me to get you a new one from this season though, that one’s a bit outdated.”

“This one’s just fine. Thank you for the boba.” You raised the cup at him before stretching your hand out, pointing to the open door that led to the hallway. “You can go now.”

“Y/N-“

“Kylian I don’t want to hear it. You think what, by bringing my favourite drink and cracking jokes everything’s okay?”

“No, of course not. I tried to call you last night.“

“And I didn’t answer for a fucking reason. Did it cross your mind maybe I didn’t want to talk to you after you stood me and Mia up?”

“Listen-“

“There’s not an excuse you can give me that’s valid Kylian. You promised me you’d be there. I kept looking out for you, the whole ceremony, even after it was over, we lingered around the venue for so long my parents and Elliot almost missed their flight back home. Of course I didn’t tell them why I wanted to wait around, they still think you’re the best thing that’s happened to them besides their own kids.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I got on the plane to come to you, I swear-“

“So you were in Marseille yesterday?”

“Yes, I was on my way to-“

“Funny you were in Marseille yesterday.”

“Y/N-“

“Because I was in Marseille yesterday, and this morning too actually, up until about hmmm, 4 hours ago? But I didn’t see you. At all.”

“Y/N-“

“You’re so-“

“Y/N STOP TALKING!” He suddenly yelled, your sentence cut off midway by his outburst. You don’t think you’ve ever seen this many frown lines across his forehead before, he must be really pissed. That makes two of you.

“Don’t raise your voice at me.”

“Well I don’t have a choice if that’s the only way to get you to fucking listen.”

“I don’t have to listen to anything you have to say.”

“You know what? You always do this. You always assume you know what I’m going to say, or how I feel so you just cut me off before I get a chance to even explain myself.”

“Because I know you’re going to come out with some bullshit Kylian! Always you and your empty fucking promises, I’m so over it. But sure, prove me wrong. Go on, explain yourself then.”

You raised your arms as if to say he has the floor to speak. He clenched his jaw, his lips in a tight line as the both of you stared at each other, a million and one emotions swirling around you. Anger, pain, disappointment, sadness. If looks could kill, the both of you would be simultaneously 6 feet under.

“I swear I didn’t mean to miss your graduation Y/N, I really wanted to be there. I literally got to the airport and I, I bumped into Renee. I swear it was unplanned, I had no idea she was going to be there, and we just started talking and she had a lot she wanted to say to me, and honestly I didn’t realise how long we were together for, I swear it wasn’t my intention to miss your ceremony.”

“So what was so important that you had to talk about there in that moment, for such a long time-“

“She wanted to get back together.”

“You broke up?” This was news to you, as far as you were concerned, Kylian was still dating her, you hadn’t seen anything in the tabloids about them breaking up.

“Yeah. A couple of months ago.”

“So you’re back together now? For what, the 5th time?”

“It’s complicated Y/N. I love her.”

A sharp but fleeting pain travelled across your chest and it took everything in you not to physically keel over. It was laughable, how easy it was for one person to completely lose feelings they claim to have had and fall in love with someone else, while the other couldn’t even utter the words to another, whether they meant it or not. Because the pent up feelings were still there, choking you, gripping your heart tight and rendering you useless, incapable of loving anyone else, but him. You felt like dying, maybe it would hurt less than living in this sick and twisted reality, this constant loop of being reminded he’s never going to love you the way you love him.

“Yeah, Kylian, I can tell. Because she clearly means more to you than I do. I told you about this weeks in advance, you gave me your word yet when something better comes along you’re quick to just brush me under the rug like you always do.”

“I’m sorry, it wasn’t my intention. I didn’t even know how to talk to you when I realised I’d missed the ceremony, I didn’t think you’d want me there-“

“Of course I’d want you there, you fucking idiot, you’re my best friend. Why else would I ask you personally to come?

“I knew you’d at least be with your family, Mia, Marco.” He said Marco’s name with such disdain you almost laughed at the audacity he had to seem irked by the mere mention of your ex-boyfriend when he had a girlfriend of his own.

“Marco is in Japan. We broke up. For good.”

“Oh. I didn’t know.”

“Why would you? You don’t talk to me about Renee, I don’t talk to you about Marco. Some kind of unspoken rule right?”

There was a silence between you before he spoke.

“I’m sorry. I know you loved him.” For someone who’d been in your life for almost two decades, perhaps Kylian really didn’t know you as well as you thought he did. Or maybe you were so good at pretending you’d managed to convince everyone but yourself you’d been in love with Marco.

“Anyways Ky, I think you’ve done all your explaining. You can leave.”

He rounded the kitchen island, stepping closer to you so he could take your hand that wasn’t holding the drink, gripping it softly in his.

“Y/N, I really am sorry. Please, l don’t want us to start your move to Paris on a bad note. You have no idea how happy I am that you're finally here to stay. Let me take you out tomorrow. Just me and you, a celebratory dinner. On me. Heck I’ll even take you shopping, any store you like, I’ll carry all the bags and not complain one bit.”

A soft giggle left your lips and you cursed yourself for letting him get away with his shit so easily.

“Please, I’m sorry gummy. It won’t happen again. Let me make it up to you.”

“You better bring your shiniest Amex card tomorrow when you pick me up.”

“It’s a date.” He smiled, and you tried not to think too deeply into what he’d just said.

Just then, you heard the front door close, Mia appearing in the doorway with several shopping bags, singing to herself. She noticed you and Kylian stood in the middle of the kitchen, your hand in his and she rolled her eyes, knowing you had definitely let him off easy. Luckily for you, she wasn’t about to do that. She smiled sweetly, before reaching into one of the bags and pulling out an orange. It happened so quickly, you didn’t not anticipate the orange leaving Mia’s hand with such force, heading straight for Kylian’s head. He managed to duck at the last second, the fruit finding the wall behind him instead of his skull.

“Mia what the hell?!” He shouted.

“Fucking dickhead. You’re lucky that wasn’t a knife.”

/———-/

Part 4 finally 😭😭 just two more parts to go! Sorry it took so long please forgive me 🤞🏿 and it may seem like it’s going round in circles but they gotta do this stupid arguing and not talking about their feelings 5 times before they finally get their shit together so we’re getting close to the happy ending, very soon though it’s deffo going to get very messy before it gets better 😵‍💫 I hope y’all like it <3 (also it’s half 3 in the morning and I haven’t edited this entirely so I’m super sorry for any mistakes 🙏🏿)

Also I know the French don’t do graduations (shame if you ask me, I loved my grad) but I had to have one to fit the story 🤭

And I’m sorry for making y’all wait, im back at work and it’s hard to find the time to write (I had a bit of writers block) and also I find it hard to write super short pieces so it does take me a while to write so I’m super grateful to y’all for being so kind and patient 🥺🫶🏿

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[charmsandtealeaves]

This was a full on week of reading, writing and general adulting… And next weeks only gonna be busier!

Read This Week:

Quest For Camelot by @petalsinwoodvale (Ch. 7-9)

WIP, Quest For Camelot Jily AU, Rated T

All Lily has ever wanted is to be a knight, like her father, Sir Lionel. After Camelot is attacked and the magical sword Excalibur is stolen, she finds herself teaming up with James, a young blind hermit, as they embark on a quest to find the lost sword. Together, they face the threat of the evil Ruber, navigate challenges with a two-headed dragon and an ogre, and discover that they're more alike than they initially thought. Will they manage to return the sword to Arthur in time, or will they lose not only each other but also their dreams and the precious Excalibur?

Catching Fire by petalsinwoodvale

Complete (3.4K) Jily Hunger Games AU, Rated T

Lily and James survived The Hunger Games, but Lily worries James will keep running from her the rest of his life in regret after saving her.

Miss Evans and the impossible task (of finding a husband) by @annasghosts (Ch. 1-8)

WIP, Jily Regency AU, Rated T

Miss Lily Evans, the youngest daughter of a widow with a modest fortune, at one and twenty years of age knows what is required of her: to find a husband willing to support her and her mother. The problem? Men of the London society aren’t swayed by her lack of a dowry and brazen attitude. Luckily for her Mr James Potter has just come home from Cambridge and she can enlist his help to find out what men really want.

Textbook Assist by Molly_folly

WIP, Muggle AU Jily, Hockey Player James, Rated M

Lily Evans thinks she knows what she’s getting into when she’s tasked with tutoring yet another student athlete in intro chemistry. But shy, sweet Jamie — a defenseman on Gryffindor University’s hockey team — is at odds with her expectations, and she soon finds herself falling for him, despite what a relationship might mean for his grade and his future on the team.

Fixed Luck by @annabtg

Complete (1.3k), Order Jily Angst, Rated T

The books warn: excessive intake can cause giddiness, recklessness, and dangerous overconfidence. But good luck is addictive.

In Search Of Something More by @kay-elle-cee

WIP, Regency, Marriage of Convenience Jily, Rated M

In the sunlit garden of her sister’s home, Lord Potter had promised Lily a life of her own design, with minimal expectations—her presence at community events, companionship, and an heir. As the two stumble into the routine of marriage and work to make a life together at Stinchcombe Hall, unsolicited feelings provoke each to start wondering if this is merely a marriage…or if it could be something more.

Added to the TBR:

Theogony by @clare-with-no-i

Complete (120.2K) Ancient Greece, Time Travel Jily, Rated M

The trip that Lily Evans expects to go on is the annual pre-dissertation jaunt to Athens with the rest of her Classical Civilizations PhD program. The trip she does not expect to go on is to 479 BCE, right on the cusp of one of the most important battles in the Greco-Persian war. Now, she has to navigate antiquity as she tries to find her way back to the 21st Century, God—or gods—help her. James wants to win this war. No, James needs to win this war. He is a man of honor and duty, and even if it means dying a gruesome, bloody death, he will go down in history as one of Athens's great warriors. He will suffer no distractions; not even beautiful ones who speak strangely and refuse to listen to his orders

To Bring Down A Kingdom by @mppmaraudergirl

WIP, inspired by Tristan and Isolde, Jily, Rated M

“If we do this…” “For all of time, they will say it was our love that brought down a kingdom.” A story about forbidden lovers, the battle between duty and love, and the cost of betrayal. Inspired by the film Tristan and Isolde.

[blue-bujo]

Hogwarts Legacy: Hiding in Herbology

Summary: Elizabeth Shallowbrook, now in her seventh year at Hogwarts, is taking refuge in the greenhouse basement after receiving a letter from her mother when her sulking is interrupted by the potions professor, coming to gather ingredients from storage.

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Family drama, old injuries, scars, physical contact between teacher and student (platonic)

Author’s note: This is a follow up to my first HL fic, Care of a Magical Creature, but can be read separately. MC is a Ravenclaw.

Elizabeth Shallowbrook, now in her seventh year at Hogwarts and finally caught up in her studies, was hiding in the Herbology Basement, sitting in the water-filtered light of the submerged tank of tree roots. It was dim, and quiet, and one of her favorite places in the castle because it was almost always empty. Professor Garlick mainly used it for storage, and had recommended it as a good place to be alone during an extra assignment the previous year. The herbology professor also, very sweetly, tried to discourage other students from using the space when she knew Elizabeth was down there, for which the Ravenclaw was immensely thankful. She quickly began frequenting it when her schoolmates started hailing her as the Hero of Hogwarts. It was easier to be normal when she was alone.

The school year had only just started, but she had already spent a fair amount of time in the dimly-lit basement. She needed the distance, after an uncomfortable summer in her mother’s house in London. Mrs. Shallowbrook had never been very maternal, or taken much interest in her only child, but for whatever reason, she’d been intent on transforming her into a proper Victorian lady during the span of the break. Elizabeth had never hated being the center of her mother’s attention before, but she’d learned to after being stuffed into stays and paraded through society for two months.

The more she’d thought about it, the more she was certain that there’d been an ulterior motive. September hadn’t been able to come fast enough. But the Ravenclaw tried to please her mother, and wrote her regularly when the term started and she’d been able to escape. She’d even adopted an owl, a funny barred owl that she’d named Hermod, after the swift messenger god in Norse mythology. The large bird zipped back and forth between Hogwarts and London for the first three weeks of term, until one day he returned from a delivery with empty talons, and then a second time.

It was now a few days past Hallowe’en, and Elizabeth was sheltering in her spot. Hermod had finally returned with a letter, and she was trying to discern her feelings on it. It was dark outside, nearly time for curfew, but she wasn’t ready to face humanity yet. As usual, her mother’s words had cut her deeply with their carelessness.

The young witch was of-age now; she was frustrated with herself for caring. She knew better than that, especially after being raised in that environment. She knew her mother was a cold, jaded woman. She shouldn’t have been surprised.

Elizabeth was deep in her thoughts, so she didn’t notice at first that someone was approaching. It wasn’t until she heard a heavy step on the stairs leading down to her from the greenhouses that she realized. It didn’t advance for a few seconds, but when it did, it came unevenly. A moment later, a familiar pair of braced boots limped into view, and the girl sat up straight.

She was comfortable with Professor Sharp – he’d been there for her after the goblin rebellion, his similar history making him the only one who’d been able to truly understand – but she didn’t want him to see her like this, moping over a sheet of parchment. It was embarrassing how many times he’d seen her upset. He’d told her that she could come to him, and welcomed her whenever she did. They’d shared meals for two months of an unofficial detention when she’d been tutoring a first-year for him. He seemed to genuinely enjoy her company, though he pretended to merely tolerate it.

So why was she so uncomfortable with the idea of being seen by him now?

Because he doesn’t need to be burdened with this, said the harsh voice in the back of her mind. He has enough of his own problems without adding your petty little ones.

“Ah, Miss Shallowbrook! Forgive me, I didn’t mean to intrude,” called the professor, pulling her from her thoughts as he rounded the bottom of the staircase and she came into his view.

“Hello, sir,” she replied. She willed a smile onto her face as she rose. Better not to let him see the hurt that her mother’s letter had caused. “It’s odd to see you out of the dungeons.”

Elizabeth assumed, as did most of the students, that the potions master rarely ventured out of his classroom because of the hundreds of stairs one had to climb to navigate the castle, and the difficulty that his injury added to the task. Indeed, tonight he was hiding a cane behind his leg as he stood on the landing regarding her.

He only scanned her for a moment before he sighed and limped closer. She could see just how heavily he was favoring his left leg tonight; it didn’t seem like he could straighten it, and he only hobbled a few steps before he decided to stop hiding the cane in favor of leaning heavily upon it.

“Professor Garlick and I have an arrangement,” he explained as he squeezed past and sank gratefully onto the bench. “She lets me use any excess materials that she and her classes harvest to restock my stores. Normally she brings it, but she had an engagement tonight and I found a majority of my stock is low, so I told her not to trouble herself and that I would pick it up. However, I find myself wishing now that I had waited before making that commitment.”

The girl watched as he carefully stretched out his leg – it still wasn’t straightening – and pressed his knuckles into it. He was in pain, more than usual.

“Why do you wish you’d waited?” she asked.

“Hmph. One of my third-years has recently learned the Tripping Jinx, and was practicing it during class this afternoon. Suffice it to say that Ravenclaw lost a good amount of house points today. You have your housemates to blame for that; they can be a devious bunch. But by the time that class had started, I had already told Professor Garlick that I’d pick up the ingredients.”

By Merlin, the man was proud. He was hurt, even more so than he normally was, but he wouldn’t ask for help when he’d already said that he would be okay doing something. Elizabeth was beginning to forget her mother’s letter; she was falling back into her old pattern of putting others’ needs at a higher value than her own.

“You could have asked me. I would’ve brought them for you. I’m down here all the time.”

“I didn’t know this was one of your haunts. Besides, I am perfectly capable of managing. I just need a moment.”

They both fell silent. The Ravenclaw glanced furtively at her letter, on the same bench as her professor, and prayed that he wouldn’t notice it. He was occupied for now, but he was as sharp as his name; she had to distract him, do something.

The discomfort on his face gave her an idea. She unslung her bag from her shoulder and plopped it onto the bench, on top of her letter, before she threw back the flap and had a rummage through her things. Once she found a vial of Wigginweld potion, she fished it out and held it out for him.

Professor Sharp scowled at her. “Miss Shallowbrook, I appreciate the gesture, but I’ll be fine in a moment.”

“You aren’t fine now,” she argued. “I’ve never seen you use your cane before, and I can see how pained your movements are. You’ve told me before that my potions are textbook quality, so please, take it.”

“Very well.”

Begrudgingly, the potions master took the offered vial. He held it up to the light to check its consistency, like at the end of a class when assignments were turned in, before popped off the stopper and gulped it back in one swallow. The furrow between his brows became less severe as the Wigginweld took effect. Then he gave his student an approving, almost proud gaze as she closed her bag and scooped it up, trying to sneakily retrieve her letter in the same movement.

“Top marks, Miss Shallowbrook. I’d be hard-pressed to make a better batch myself.”

“Thank you, Professor,” smiled Elizabeth. “I’ve had a lot of practice with this particular potion.”

It was meant as a joke, a reference to her fifth- and sixth-years spent running all over the valley fighting Ashwinders, poachers, and loyalists, but Sharp didn’t find it amusing. It only seemed to make him more vigilant.

“I wish you hadn’t had to make so many batches, but I am glad that your adventures gave you the opportunity to practice. And speaking of your adventures, you’re out dangerously close to your curfew tonight. I hope I’m not going to have to start giving you tutoring assignments again to keep you where you’re supposed to be?”

Elizabeth felt her heart rate quicken anxiously under his questioning. She didn’t want to disappoint her favorite professor. Gripping her bag tighter, she shook her head. “I’ll have time to get back to the common room if I hurry. I’ll get going.”

It was the man’s turn to shake his head. “No, stay a moment. I… may need some help with collecting everything that Professor Garlick left me, and I can see you’re upset.”

“Okay.”

“I can also see the parchment you’re trying to hid, you know. You’ll have to be sneakier than that if you want to fool an auror.”

“Merlin’s beard,” the young woman groaned. “I thought you hadn’t noticed.”

“Most people wouldn’t have,” he conceded, “and distracting me with the potion was a nice touch. Please sit.”

Elizabeth dropped her bag on the ground and sat down next to her professor. She kept hold of the letter, feeling embarrassed. She knew by now that Professor Sharp was far from a threat, and she did trust him with her life. She didn’t want to admit it, but she almost saw him as a parent, ever since she had broken down in his office last year. He had definitely become a mentor to her after she’d lost Professor Fig. But she was emotional after reading her mother’s words, and not in the mood to share. The man sitting quietly beside her was in pain, and didn’t need her problems.

He seemed content to sit, which only made Elizabeth more uncomfortable. She hated when people waited for her to speak; it was a trick that a lot of the faculty used to force engagement in their classes.

“Don’t you professors know how much we hate it when you wait silently for an answer?” she demanded, irritated.

Sharp’s low chuckle only irritated her further. “We do. Students would rather speak publicly than endure an awkward silence, which is why it’s so effective. Although you tend to be more immune to it than your classmates. Why is tonight an exception?”

He’d asked. Now she had to tell him. Waving the parchment, she grumbled, “My mother wrote me. Finally.”

“Ah.” The potions master nodded. “And you didn’t like the contents of her letter.”

“No, I did not,” scoffed the Ravenclaw. “My mother has a way of choosing exactly the right words to aggravate me, and make it my fault that I’m aggravated. She never has any guilt in the matter.”

“Families can have a way of allowing gnomes in the garden,” the man said evenly. “Those little niggling issues multiply until you have an infestation. Even my own mother had her moments, rest her soul, and she had the patience of a saint to put up with my father and I both being aurors. I would hope yours doesn’t mean to antagonize you intentionally.”

Darkly, Elizabeth replied, “You don’t know Emelia Shallowbrook. My mother could make a frost salamander seem warm.”

The witch stood abruptly and started pacing, being far too riled to sit any longer. The letter was stuffed unceremoniously into her robe pocket.

“I really tried to be a good daughter this summer. I was introduced to society, and she showed me off all season, trying to marry me off to a respectable muggle, and I endured it. But then she cut me off last month, stopped sending me letters completely.”

“But you received a letter today?” prompted her teacher.

“Yes. Telling me that she’s being courted again.”

“Courted?”

Elizabeth could feel the unasked question hanging heavy in the air around them. She hadn’t told anybody but Natty, Sebastian, and Ominis about her father, John Shallowbrook. But Professor Sharp needed to be told so that he had the context for this conversation, and he’d revealed a detail of his personal life, that his own mother had passed. It was only fair.

“My father was drowned when I was eight, before my magic emerged,” she sighed. “He ran a shipping company on the Thames, and there was an accident in the fog one night when two of the barges collided. Mother loved him, and married well below her station to be with him, and I think she’s always regretted it. She was never warm or maternal, only jaded and distant, and it got a lot worse after the accident. I was always closer to Father; he was where I could go to feel loved.

“I thought maybe, when she finally took an interest in me this summer, that she had finally found her heart again. But now I know that she was just trying to make me into a proper lady to keep me from scaring off her suiter.”

Suddenly, she was so tired, and overwhelmed. There was a reason she tried not to think about her family. She sat back down next to Professor Sharp, flopping herself onto the stone bench with a huff. He raised an eyebrow at her – whether questioning her behavior or her willingness to keep talking, she wasn’t sure. Or maybe she hadn’t left enough space between the two of them; she couldn’t read him or his silence. Elizabeth was determined, however, not to be the first to speak this time.

Eventually she heard her teacher release a neutral “hmm,” as he so often did. She turned her head to regard him, and he held out a hand.

“May I see this letter? That I may better understand?”

“I… well, I supposed there’s nothing private in it. Okay.”

The Ravenclaw pulled her now-crumpled note out of her pocket and handed it to Professor Sharp. It felt incredibly vulnerable, letting him read it, and she found herself clasping her hands as he took it. Thankfully, nothing ever escaped his notice, and he saw the nervous gesture.

“If you need something to do while I read this, you can start gathering the ingredients that Professor Garlick has left me. She typically boxes them and stores them on the shelf opposite us. I won’t be long.”

While Sharp read, Elizabeth carefully lowered the boxes he’d described from an overhead shelf and set them, six in all, in two neat stacks on the floor. She didn’t use magic, but did the task the muggle way, to make it last longer, and to try to distract herself from the disappointed tutting sounds that her mother’s letter was causing to issue from the ex-auror.

As she was dusting her hands off from handling the last box, her professor evidently finished reading. He stood up carefully, leaning heavily on the cane, before hobbling to her, her letter in his outstretched hand. She took it back silently.

“You underplayed your mother’s venom, Miss Shallowbrook. That felt intentionally divisive.”

“Glad to know I’m not overreacting, then,” Elizabeth said sarcastically. “So you saw that she was asking me to stop owling her until her beau could get used to the idea of me being an ungodly witch?”

He nodded. “He sounds pretentiously religious. I apologize that you have to endure that from your own mother.”

“It’s all right,” she mumbled. “At least I’m not in that house anymore.”

“True. Have you considered speaking to Mr Gaunt about this?”

“Why does everybody ask me if I talk to Ominis about things? I have other friends, too!”

Elizabeth usually tried to remain neutral about the Slytherin, but she knew that her tone betrayed her tonight. She and Ominis were more than close friends, but they both wanted their privacy, for multiple reasons. It was probably noticeable that they had started sharing an interest in each other. Not courting of course, not yet, but…

Professor Sharp was looking down at her, giving her a disbelieving expression, one eyebrow arched.

“Miss Shallowbrook. As the bearer of a facial scar over your eye, as I am, you of all people should know that it does not render one blind. Anybody with any sense can see that you favor each other. I’ve had my suspicions since your first year.” He paused, took a step back, and pulled the handle from his cane to remove his wand before reassembling the walking stick. “Come, we’ll take these back to my office now. Walk with me.”

He cast Wingardium Leviosa on one of the two stacks of boxes before mounting the stairs to exit the Herbology Basement. The Ravenclaw followed suit, focusing intently on her slow ascent behind him and not dropping the other stack of ingredients.

As he climbed, the ex-auror continued their conversation. “I brought up Mr Gaunt because he has experience with venomous parents. The House of Guant is widely regarded as one of the crueler pureblood families, as I’m sure you already know.”

“And is that the only reason that you brought him up?” challenged Elizabeth. She would have pushed further, but between climbing the stairs, levitating the boxes, and trying to start an argument, she very nearly lost control of her spell. The boxes rattled precariously.

Sharp, now at the top of the stairs, watched as she struggled. “Focus. Practice keeping the largest part of your concentration on your spellcasting, and let the smaller part of your brain handle conversation.

“And to answer your question, the pair of you seem good for each other. Mr Gaunt fairs much better in my class with you working beside him, and you seem as though you feel safer. If throwing the two of you into each other’s paths benefits you, then far be it from me not to do so.” His face wasn’t visible as he was walking in front, but the smirk was evident in his voice.

“Professor Sharp, are you admitting that you play matchmaker with your students?” teased the witch.

“I said nothing of the sort,” he puffed, now tackling the second flight of stairs, which led into the Central Hall. “At least, not directly. Keeping up with a few hundred students’ crushes would be an exhausting waste of resources. I leave that up to Garlick and Ronen.”

He fell silent as he climbed the rest of the steps, except for one or two pained grunts towards the top. Once he reached the landing, he looked at her, and the Ravenclaw was surprised by the softness in his dark eyes.

“However, for certain students – which may or may not be favorites – I take notice of what makes them happy, and might push them in that direction from time to time.”

Elizabeth felt herself grinning, powerless to stop. “I’m one of your favorite students?”

“I never said anything of that sort directly, either. Now, do keep up,” he ordered ironically. They both knew that she was holding back to match his pace, even concentrating this long on maintaining Wingardium Leviosa.

They slowly crossed the Central Hall together, levitating their boxes of ingredients before them. Sharp grumbled about the wretched, unnecessary split-level design of the hall and the two extra staircases that it forced him to traverse, while Elizabeth pondered their interaction. Her mother’s letter was still burning a hole in her pocket, but she was hardly upset about it. Instead, she felt similar to how she’d felt after her breakdown in the Potions classroom last year. Her emotions left her exhausted, almost numb, but she was safe and protected while she recovered from them. Professor Sharp makes me feel like Father used to, she realized. Valued and cared for. He gets me.

“I supposed I can talk to Ominis about all of this,” she admitted as they reached the classroom. “It couldn’t hurt.”

“Asking for help never does,” the man agreed sagely.

He opened the door for her and extended his spell to take her boxes from her, before wordlessly sending all six of them into his office to put themselves away. The Ravenclaw looked at him, trying to be cross.

“You didn’t need help,” she challenged.

“No,” he replied, “but you did.”

Elizabeth rubbed the back of her arm. She didn’t like how easily he’d read her; it was embarrassing.

“Don’t feel bad. I only wanted to help you if I could. You’d best get to bed now, as it’s past curfew. If you take the Floo back to your common room, you should be able to avoid the prefects.”

Sharp summoned a small container of Floo powder and pressed it into her hand. Elizabeth grabbed his fingers before he could let go and gave them a squeeze.

“Thank you for always being here for me,” she murmured.

After a moment, he awkwardly squeezed back. “You’re most welcome. Now, run along, Miss Shallowbrook. I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

She slipped away to the Floo grate, avoiding the portrait of Lethia Burbley and holding a finger over her mouth to shush Ignatia Wildsmith. The letter stayed tucked in the pocket of her robes, even after she changed into her nightdress and chatted with Samantha Dale about their arithmancy homework. Professor Sharp, by accepting her emotion and showing her that it could be reframed, had helped calm her. Her mother was all the way in London, while her friends were here at Hogwarts. She could seek their company instead of having hers spurned by Mrs Shallowbrook, starting in the morning. Before she went to bed, she sent Hermod to the Slytherin dungeons with a note, to ask a certain classmate to meet her early for breakfast before potions.

The next morning, Elizabeth walked into Professor Sharp’s classroom leading Ominis, the pair of them arm in arm as the Ravenclaw navigated to their usual seats. After the potions master’s brief lecture, they murmured quietly to each other while they brewed. They’d been talking all morning, and the young wizard had no end of pointers for dealing with a distant, disinterested family.

She soaked up his words and his attention. It was almost the end of class before Elizabeth looked up at her teacher, having had her focus drawn by the throat clearing he was doing. When she met Sharp’s eye, he was wearing the smuggest – yet proudest – smirk. Then he limped back to his desk, having said everything he’d wanted to say with just that expression.

When it came time to bottle their yields, the witch found a way to deep clean her brewing station so that she was the last student in the classroom. She gathered her belongings and approached the professor’s desk, handing over her bottled potion for his critique.

Holding it up to the light, Sharp smiled. “Excellent as usual, Miss Shallowbrook. Well done today. And I don’t just mean on your assignment; I’m proud that you chose to share your situation with Mr Gaunt.”

“You just say that because I followed your advice.”

“Perhaps. But then again, perhaps not. I’m always proud of you, provided you’re not doing anything foolish.”

Elizabeth blushed under the praise. “Thank you. You’ve been more supportive than anybody else has since… well, since Father died.” This was deeper than she’d meant to go, but it had come out surprisingly easily. “Even Professor Fig had his motivations for supporting me, but I don’t feel that from you, and I appreciate that.”

It was the man’s turn to shift uncomfortably. He grumbled something unintelligible before saying, “Being compared to your father is high praise, which I don’t know that I deserve, but thank you. As aways, if you need me, I shall be here.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Yes, well. I’m sure you don’t want to be late for your next class. Run along.”

She smiled at him before following his directions and jogging upstairs to meet Samantha for Arithmancy.

[nyovette]

The Spirit Bares its Teeth by Andrew Joseph White

Synopsis: Mors vincit omnia. Death conquers all.

London, 1883. The Veil between the living and dead has thinned. Violet-eyed mediums commune with spirits under the watchful eye of the Royal Speaker Society, and sixteen-year-old Silas Bell would rather rip out his violet eyes than become an obedient Speaker wife. According to Mother, he’ll be married by the end of the year. It doesn’t matter that he’s needed a decade of tutors to hide his autism; that he practices surgery on slaughtered pigs; that he is a boy, not the girl the world insists on seeing.

After a failed attempt to escape an arranged marriage, Silas is diagnosed with Veil sickness—a mysterious disease sending violet-eyed women into madness—and shipped away to Braxton’s Sanitorium and Finishing School. The facility is cold, the instructors merciless, and the students either bloom into eligible wives or disappear. So when the ghosts of missing students start begging Silas for help, he decides to reach into Braxton’s innards and expose its rotten guts to the world—as long as the school doesn’t break him first.

Rating: ★★★★★

Spoilers ⚠️

Oh my god. This fucking book is incredible.

I've been looking forward to reading TSBT, not just because of the high reviews and intriguing synopsis, but also because of the autism representation. As an autistic person myself, I was looking forward to seeing a respectful portrayal of an autistic MC - and I found that in Silas.

Silas is such a great MC, it was crazy how much of myself I saw in him. His sensory issues. His struggles with social cues and subtext. His history of being forced to suppress his symptoms and having to put on the mask of a "good girl". Being unable to stand up for himself, having to simply do as he's told. Having to say "yes" to protect himself from those who have control over his life.

He's also trans, living in a world where being so is considered a sickness of the mind. When he met Daphne, I swear, I was over the fucking moon. I can't imagine how validating that must've felt, to finally meet someone like him. White did such an amazing job writing this scene.

The book is very gory at times. I definitely learned a lot about the inner workings of the human body, how to perform a hysterectomy, how there are two ways to strangle someone. Silas performed a lot of surgery without any anaesthetic which made me inwardly cringe as I was reading. It was excellent.

White also kept the tension incredibly well. Throughout, there was the threat of Silas being discovered as he tried to find out what happened to the ghost girls. Everytime something went wrong for Silas, it didn't just feel like a "uh oh" moment, it was a "oh fuck. RUN." I loved it.

I could literally talk about this book forever, I've got so much to say about how good this and that was but I struggle with turning my thoughts into anything comprehensible so I'll have to keep it short. Just know that I loved this book and will now be looking to read White's other works. 10/10.

[princess-geek]

Vincent Foredale, Earl of Edgewater - The man behind the title

Vincent Rupert Alexander August Foredale is the only son of Dominique Margaret (granddaughter of the Duke of Fydelia and daughter of his second-born son, the Cordonian ambassador to England) and the Earl of Edgewater, Rupert Archibald Foredale. He was named after an ancestor who was known for spying for both sides during the Wars of the Roses. 

Despite Rupert's reluctance to break the tradition, due to Dominique's previous complications, he was born at the City of London Maternity Hospital on April 25, 1968. Vincent was the first Foredale baby not to be born on the Edgewater or at the family London Estate. In August of the same year, he was baptised at Moorefield Church. Queen Elizabeth II and his son, the Prince of Wales, were their godparents. 

Contradicting the fears of breaking the tradition, Vincent was a healthy and playful baby.  

Until the age of five, Vincent spent his days between the nursery and the gardens, playing with his neighbour and best friend, Matthew Sinclaire. Together, the two boys spent countless hours doing all kinds of mischief: scaring the swans of Edgewater Lake (and running away from them), playing with the hunting dogs (something Rupert had prohibited), playing pranks on the employees of both estates or simply eating mud like all the children do (yes, rich children eat mud too). 

Determined to make his son a man in his image, Rupert hired a strict tutor who imposed on the boy a rigid study schedule, to which the Earl added even more rules. 

Encouraged by his mother, Vincent did his best to meet his father's high expectations. Nevertheless, before his son's achievements, the Earl reacted with indifference or sharp criticism.  Feeling that his best was never enough made Vincent grow apart from his father through the years. 

For that reason, going to Eton at the age of thirteen was almost a liberation for him. Although the young viscount often chose books and chess, Vincent, along with Matthew and other companions, lived the typical young boys' adventures. 

One of the things he learned during that time was how to ride a motorcycle. A colleague who lived in the city taught him and the other boys in an open field near the college.

The exception was Miss Campbell (code name among Vincent's friends, 'Miss Candy Eyes'), the young man's first love. The girl worked after school at her parents' candy store in Windsor. Despite Matthew being the first to try to ask her out, the girl preferred to take out the quiet young Vincent. After those rendezvouses at Windsor, Vincent came back to Eton covered in sugar and cheap lipstick. 

Still at Eton, Vincent discovered another passion – writing. Writing had become an escape for the teenage Vincent to deal with the turbulence of the adventure of growing up. His first experiences were some cheesy poems dedicated to Miss Campbell and a small Shakespearean-inspired play written for a literature class project. He tried to write a short novel but became too frustrated with its and his imperfections to continue the story. 

After finishing his studies at Eton, and again following the old family tradition, he continued his studies at the University of Cambridge. There, he studied History and Political Science.  

After a couple of years' break, Vincent ventured again into the universe of writing.  

Inspired by the Cambridge atmosphere, Vincent drafted many stories, wrote several poems, and finished his first novel, a romance between an English spy and a French prostitute during the Napoleonic Wars. It had some flaws, but an editor showed interest in the story.  

Unsurprisingly, Rupert did not allow the negotiations to move forward because "It was a waste of time, and being a writer was not a dignified occupation for a future Earl, especially a quixotic run-of-the-mill writer like you."  

Feeling discouraged, he quit writing for years. 

Despite Vincent having graduated with distinction, Rupert did not let him help with the family business or get a steady regular job. And God knows how Vincent tried. He knew his duty and knew he was capable of doing it.  

At the same time, his mother was trying to force him on every high-society girl he came across. Dominique insisted that getting married and having children would give him a purpose in life until he became an earl. To make her point, she didn't tire of talking in the case of his best friend, Matthew Sinclaire. The master of Ledford Park, once an epic rake, had fallen in love, and now it was an example of the wonders conjugal happiness brings to a man. In fact, Lydia Sinclaire herself had confirmed she was finally expecting. 

He dated some of those women to please his mother, but never felt a connection with any of them. Furthermore, he did not wish to drag anyone into a relationship or marriage of convenience. 

Frustrated and somewhat out of spite, Vincent allowed himself to get lost in the bohemian life of London's high society for some time. However, that only made his heart feel emptier. Fearing for his friend's sanity, Matthew helped him find a suitable job at the British Museum that not even Rupert could raise objections to.  

In the meantime, Theodore and Matthew joined the countess on the mission to find him a girlfriend. The viscount was exasperated with the matchmakers. 

One night, the Sinclaires threw a party at the Trafalgar St. James. As usual, he had spent the night running away from potential suitors and making small talk. Fed up with the fancy party, Vincent was considering leaving when he heard a voice that filled the imposing ballroom. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever witnessed. His heart stopped, but Vincent had never felt so alive.  

Bewitched, he didn’t mind exposing himself to shame in front of the hundreds of illustrious guests to get a chance to see her again. Even if nervous, Vincent played and sang with all his heart, hoping to reach her heart. To this day, some of the party guests still remember his surprising performance. 

Maybe Mary couldn't be considered extraordinarily beautiful by most people, but there was something unique about her that made him want to look at her for the rest of his life – Would be her bright eyes? Her sweet smile with a mischievous promise on her lips? The unruly waves of her chocolate hair? 

If her voice and beauty had amazed him, her soul entranced him. Mary was different from any other woman Vincent had encountered.  

Although, in her words, she was "poor, but the queen of herself," Mary had no problems opening her heart, talking about her dreams, the wounds she carried, the flaws she had... Mary was completely genuine in everything she said and did. 

That night, he knew he was hopelessly, deeply, and wholeheartedly in love with her. When Mary fell asleep on his chest, Vincent thought he would die of happiness. Kissing her was as natural as breathing. It was the meeting of two souls. 

For almost two years, Vincent lived in seventh heaven. He never felt so happy as he was with Mary. Whether it was a weekend away or a Sunday afternoon spent playing card games on the floor of Mary's flat (she was a very good player), all the moments together were sublime, the pinnacle of freedom and happiness. He was finally discovering his true self. 

However, there was a shadow between them.  

Outside their love bubble, his world was complicated and hard-hearted. He wanted to protect Mary from the weight of his duties, even if it involved some lies and omissions. Mary herself was in no hurry to enter this world. Although the world had changed, she was aware that Vincent would need some time. 

Still and all, Vincent proposed to Mary, and she said yes. He still didn't know exactly how or when, but the queen of his heart would also be the queen of everything that was his.  

In his dreams, Vincent would have offered her the family engagement ring. However, for now, the discreet diamond would have to be enough to witness their love. 

But life tricked the young viscount. Weeks later they got engaged, Vincent found out his father had made some ruinous investments. After years of spending on pomp and pageantry, the family had no funds available. They were at risk of losing their properties and possessions. Matthew was working with him to find a solution, however, the more they dug, the more problems they found.  

His heart was torn between his duty and Mary. 

When his father proposed a marriage with Henrietta Marlcaster (widow of the fat cat Mr. Marlcaster), Vincent seriously considered eloping with Mary, but after some reflection, he decided to pretend to accept the arrangement to buy some more time. 

The plan seemed to work for a while until, on one fateful February Sunday morning, his dreams shattered. The Sunday Times pompously announced to the world that the Viscount Vincent Foredale and the esteemed Lady Henrietta Marlcaster were engaged to be married. He didn't have time to break the news to Mary. She found out while waiting in line to buy bread for their Sunday breakfast. 

Seeing Mary devastated because of him was the worst pain he had ever experienced. Even though she refused to see him, and wedding preparations had been hurried, Vincent kept fighting to get out of the engagement.  

For the first time in his life, Vincent faced his father. Mary was worth a war with a battalion of enraged Rupert's. 

Obviously, for his parents, giving up on the marriage with Henrietta was off the table. They needed her money to stay afloat. Besides, it would be a scandal.  

The young viscount threatened them that he would give up everything to marry Mary. Rupert laughed disdainfully in his face. 

“If she was, rich or had a title, maybe something could be done. But a singer coming from nowhere... that would be the final nail in our coffin.” Dominique appealed to her son. 

After this argument, Vincent left home for a few weeks. 

He looked for Mary everywhere. It seemed as if she had simply vanished into thin air. Vincent was desperate. 

As the weeks passed, the creditors increased the pressure. His mother has started selling things. Every time he came home, something was missing. One day, on one of the rare occasions he was at Edgewater during that period, Vincent found his mother talking to an auctioneer. He was appraising the bust of Venus, a piece he knew that meant a lot to her. It was part of her dowry and one of her last connections to her homeland. 

Seeing the sadness in her mother’s eyes made him feel guilty and selfish. Their family legacy was dying piece by piece. 

"We mean more than ourselves. We are our legacy."  Vincent had grown up under that mantra. That idea haunted his thoughts day and night. 

 During those troubled days, Vincent made the most difficult decision of his life. Since he had failed in love, he was determined not to fail in his duty. Even if that duty was making him deny his heart and principles. 

So, on the 2nd of May 1994, he married Henrietta Marlcaster at Moorefield Church, in a sumptuous ceremony paid for by the bride. 

As agreed, after the wedding, the new viscountess paid off half of the family's debts. The other half would only be paid when she had a child in her arms, her security for the rest of her life. 

Pressured by the urgency of the situation, Vincent tried his best. His herculean effort paid off and shortly after, Henrietta got pregnant, and Harry was born on March 30 of 1995. 

The duty was fulfilled: the debts were paid, Edgewater was rising from the ashes, and there was a new heir. 

Satisfied that everything went as he had planned, Rupert changed his attitude towards Vincent, treating him like a "prodigal son." Unfortunately, the late redemption was not enough to heal their relationship. Vincent could not forget or forgive what had happened in his childhood, nor forced marriage, much less Mary's disappearance. Although he had no proof, Vincent had always suspected that it had been his father's work. 

When Rupert Foredale died at the turn of the millennium, Vincent did not cry for his father's death. 

He worked hard, but within a few years, Vincent had returned every penny to his wife. 

Though, that didn't heal his heart. To ease his pain, he focused on his new family. Although the marriage started out as a nightmare, Vincent built a (most of the days) cordial relationship with his wife, maintaining a peaceful coexistence.  

On the other hand, Edmund (Henrietta's son from her first marriage) and Harry were the centre of his world. Initially, Edmund did not react well to either the marriage or his brother's birth. After almost a year of attempts to get closer to the boy and a lot of tantrums, Edmund let Vincent into his life. The Earl was determined to learn from his father's mistakes and give his children the love and support he never felt. 

At the same time, the new Earl resurrected the family's patronising and charitable spirit. The region's inhabitants noticed the difference in attitude between father and son. Vincent was approachable and kind-hearted, therefore, everyone felt free to come to him. 

In all those years, there wasn't a single day that Vincent didn't think about Mary. He had never stopped loving her. He wondered where she was, if she had got married, if she had children, if she had moved to the USA... Every day he missed her more and regretted letting her go. Sometimes, he thought to look for her, but the more time passed, the more ashamed he felt about his actions. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her again with his ghost. 

On an unusually sunny morning in December 2004, life had the biggest surprises in store for him. 

When the friendly Mrs. Daly told him she was a friend of Mary's, Vincent almost fell out of his chair. It filled his heart with hope, just to be broken by the fatal news: Mary was dead. Vincent felt the cold taking over his body. For a few seconds, he couldn’t breathe. The pain in his heart spread throughout his body. Vincent thought he was going to die right then and there. 

While he was still lost in the wave of pain and despair, Mrs. Daly revealed another plot twist: Mary had a child. He had a daughter. Their daughter.  If only he had known that Mary was pregnant... How would their daughter be like? Would she be happy to meet him? There was a whirlwind of emotions in his heart. Vincent had never felt so sad and so happy in his life. 

When Mrs. Daly told him the girl's name was Beatrice, his heart skipped a beat. Several times during their long pillow talks, they had talked that if they had a daughter, it would be Beatrice, "like the Dante's muse." 

He was amazed. Vincent felt his heart melting in love as he saw the pictures of Beatrice.  Tears fell uncontrollably down his cheeks, despite the wide smile on his face.  

She was his second chance to love Mary, and he wouldn’t let his love down again.  

Since day one, Beatrice was the light of his life, not only because of the love she represented but also because of the girl she was and became through the years. Father and daughter had a strong bond, which sometimes caused some misunderstandings between the children. 

After Beatrice came into his life, Vincent felt like he was reborn. If life had given him that second chance, maybe it was time to pursue other dreams. Mainly encouraged by his daughter, Vincent came back to writing, and his "run-of-the-mill writing" won over the English and success beyond borders, as Mary had always predicted. 

Matthew's death threatened to tear him apart. A part of himself had also been reduced to ashes in that fire, but now Vincent had a new responsibility - taking care of the legacy of his best friend and of his most precious treasure - Ernest. And Vincent did it with all of his heart. 

Unfortunately, he continued to be haunted by the shadows for the rest of his days. 

This is Vincent Foredale. A man who suffered as much as he loved. A man who fought for his dreams, silencing the mockers. A man who rebuilt his home from the ashes. A man who sacrificed himself for those he loved. A man who genuinely sought to help the disadvantaged. A man who never allowed the bitterness of life to harden his heart. 

@jeanele ❣  @missameliep ​  ❣  @regencylady1810 ​ ❣ @i-put-the-sin-in-sinclaire @whenyourheartskipsabeat ❣ @xjustin-ethansgirliex  ❣  @noesapphic ❣  @gardeningourmet ❣ @paisleylovergirl  ❣ @dailydoseofchoices  ❣  @rhyssescups ❣  @storyofmychoices  ❣  @a-shining-lucky-star  ❣   @lorircreates  ❣  @lorirwritesfanfic ❣ @walkerduchess  ❣@indiacater ❣ @kinkypot ❣ @anotherbeingsworld ❣ @hellooliviaolivia ❣ @pixel-writer19  ❣ @sinclaire-ity  ❣ @darknessabovethelite ❣  @brightningstar ❣@ezekielbhandarivalleros ❣ @marlcasters ❣ @bhartigat81 ❣ @lyannacyrill706 ❣ @daddytyrilstarfury  ❣ @secretaryunpaid ❣ @allisonreilynn ❣ @fauxleaves ❣ @twinkleallnight ❣ @kingliam2019 ❣ @iloveethanramsey ❣ @surewhyynot ❣ @yvettegolx  ❣ @itlivesinpixelberry ❣  @chutchoices ❣ @electroniccreatorwerewolf  ❣ @spookycolorpeanut  ❣ @peonierose ❣ @quixoticdreamer16   ❣ @lilyoffandoms   ❣ @tessa-liam

[scotianostra]

The pioneering woman doctor and champion of medical education for women, Sophia Jex-Blake passed away on 7th January 1912.

Sophia Jex-Blake was neither born, or died in Scotland, but she was instrumental in the Women’s suffrage in Scotland.

Sophia Louisa Jex-Blake was born in Hastings in 1840. She attended various private schools before enrolling at Queen's College, London. In 1859, while still a student, she accepted a post as mathematics tutor at the College.

In 1869, she became determined to study medicine at the University of Edinburgh, though its doors were still closed to women. After a bitter struggle, which divided the faculty and ended with Jex-Blake suing the University unsuccessfully in the Court of Session, she moved to Berne to qualify.

In 1889, however, largely as a result of her struggles, an Act of Parliament sanctioned degrees for women. She was one of the first female doctors in the country. A leading campaigner for medical education for women, she was later involved in founding two medical schools for women: one in London (at a time when no other medical schools were training women) and one in Edinburgh, where she also started a women's hospital.

Sophia and and six other women, collectively known as the Edinburgh Seven began studying medicine at the University of Edinburgh in 1869. She was the first practising female doctor in Scotland, and one of the first in the wider United Kingdom and Great Britain, and Ireland.

You can read more about this extraordinary woman here https://fisher.library.utoronto.ca/fisher-blog/queer-women-history-medicine-sophia-jex-blake-and-womens-medical-education-victorian

[women-throughout-history]

Katheryn Howard

Katheryn Howard, the fifth wife of King Henry VIII, remains one of the most tragic figures in Tudor history. Born around 1523 in Lambeth to Lord Edmund Howard and Joyce Culpeper, Katheryn's early life was marked by the complexities and struggles of her noble but impoverished family. Her father, a son of the 2nd Duke of Norfolk, and her mother, with previous children from a previous marriage, navigated a challenging aristocratic landscape. Katheryn's early years were tainted by relationships that would later haunt her. Her relationship with the music tutor Henry Manox during her time under the Dowager Duchess's care caused the duchess herself to intervene. Subsequently, she engaged in a consummated affair with Francis Dereham, a member of her uncle's household, before catching the eye of King Henry VIII. Her marriage to the ageing monarch in 1540, immediately following the annulment of his union with Anne of Cleves, led to Katheryn being in a position of prominence. Described as Henry's "rose without a thorn," she faced hostility from courtiers, given her past indiscretions. The Howard family's rise to power through her union only fueled resentment. However, Katheryn's most significant misstep came in the form of her relationship with Thomas Culpeper, a favourite of the king. Despite her previous entanglements, Katheryn's connection with Culpeper during her brief marriage to Henry was perceived as treasonous. The Archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Cranmer, brought her premarital liaisons to light, leading to her confession and subsequent condemnation. On February 13, 1542, Katheryn Howard faced execution at the Tower of London. Despite her youth—some speculate she was only 18—she approached her fate with dignity. Five centuries later, her innocence is debated and it is often speculated if her tale was of tragedy or temptation.

A letter from Katheryn to Thomas Culpepper https://www.thirteen.org/wnet/sixwives/inherwords/ch_words.html

Catherine, according to French ambassador Charles de Marillac, was "a young lady of extraordinary beauty" and of "superlative grace."

[stephensmithuk]

The Three Students

We're staying on Return for a while - the next one not in it will be "The Bruce-Partington Plans", due on 14 August.

I've been reading from the Klinger annotated version as this includes the illustrations. I will try to contribute original stuff.

Scholars have had a lot of discussion, as per Klinger, on which one of Oxford or Cambridge this is, including a lot of focus on the state of early English charter research. They also discuss which of them Holmes went to - Baring-Gould has him go to both, with some further study in London in the middle. And fail to get a degree.

Athenian general Thucydides' only work was History of the Peloponnesian War, an eight-volume, incomplete (it cuts off abruptly during Book VIII), account - of the conflict that is considered a classic, although it's debated if it's a history book or just good literature. The fact his name is dropped in that manner suggests the audience should know it automatically. It's also apparently a very hard book to translate from the original Greek.

Oxbridge (I'll use the common term for them as a pair here) students have scheduled highly personalised time with their tutors in small group learning - it's called a tutorial at Oxford and a supervision at Cambridge.

Prospective students either apply to an Oxbridge college directly or make an open application, being allocated to one if successful.

There have been Indian students at Cambridge since 1867, including three future Indian Prime Ministers - most famously Jawaharlal Nehru himself.

"Ruined on the turf" means he lost all his money betting on horses.

A "blue" is awarded to university athletes who have excelled at their sport. There are multiple grades, "full blue" being the highest. You are entitled to wear a special blazer when you get one. Cambridge is light blue, Oxford dark blue. Not to be confused with a Porterhouse Blue, which is something completely different.

Rhodesia was the British colonial territory now Zambia and Zimbabwe, named after Cecil Rhodes.

[cacaesar]

is it ok if i ask what a-levels you did to study classics at oxford? or what was your academic journey in general thx

Heya!! Of course it is! And thank you for the ask! I'll start with A-Levels and GCSEs (the ones I did, and the grades I got), and then I'll probably yap about how I came to studying classics/Oxford in the first place, and how school was for me (not easy, let's put it that way!) A-Levels: Biology - A Classical Civilisation - A Law - A Extended Project Qualification - A* (My EPQ was on Homosexuality in Ancient Greece and was 12,000 words... I really put everything into it lmao!) GCSEs: English Language - 8 English Literature - 8 Biology - 8 Chemistry - 8 Religious Studies - 8 Maths - 7 Geography - 7 History - 6 (first paper sat the day after a funeral lmao) Fine Art - 6 French - 6 Physics - 6 (we didn't really have a teacher for nearly 2 years...)

So...not the most impressive grades when you compare it to the straight 9's and A*s of people I got my place over! There are a couple of things to contextualise some of the grades - in that we unfortunately lost my grandad in the middle of GCSEs (and so my mum had to be away at hospital a lot, meaning I was cooking and caring for myself for the most part), and then for A-Levels I was in the Covid years (sat them in 2021). Our college decided it was a really good idea to make students sit full A-Level papers at the end of the year and have our entire grade depend on those, despite not having provided online lessons for a large part of the 10 or so months we were out of education; even when we were "back", the amount of absence through isolation etc was insane. Making us sit full papers when other colleges took grades over the whole year was, imo, deeply unfair...but anyway. I also unfortunately lost my nan and nearly lost my mum to Covid during the run up to those papers... all while working 20 hour minimum weeks - so it was more than a little stressful! On top. of that, I'm also AuDHD (Autistic and ADHD), but was undiagnosed until Uni... which meant I was flailing about desperately trying to succeed in a system very much not built for a brain like mine! The relief that came when Oxford finally gave me an answer to what was going on with me was immeasurable! But how and why did I get my spot in the first place? I've been obsessed with ancient cultures and history/mythology since I was tiny, and that basically just became a bigger and bigger obsession. My honest answer is that I got my place through a hell of a lot of hard work, a touch of luck, and blind unashamed confidence. If you sit in the interview thinking that you're supposed to be there, that these tutors will be the ones teaching you, and you're wanting to learn from them, there is not much you can do wrong! I did a LOT of research into my specific college - I wanted to study Homer's epics, so I chose the college with my favourite Homer and Hexameter Poetry specialist! And what would you know, genuinely loving that subject and yapping his ear off about my (informed and evidenced) opinions of Achilles and his characterisation (why he's actually a deeply sympathetic character, especially through the ancient lens, how he's the prime example of war trauma on a young person, etc) is what got me in!

I think I'll probably do a full post on education history at some point - and a series on applying to Oxford - but if you have any more questions, lmk! There should be a video on my TikTok covering some of the Oxford basics, though it might be quite the scroll down now! (gotta hit that 10k over there to make you guys playlists of the vids!) For now I'm on the way to london for a girlies getaway trip!

[rayspookyhistory]

ᡣ𐭩 Queen Elizabeth I: Triumph, Talent, and the Legacy of England's Golden Age ᡣ𐭩

for one of my favourite queens, also ill do all the word highlighting later i just wanna get this posted :3

Queen Elizabeth I, the last Tudor monarch, presided over a period of unprecedented change and development in England. Her reign, from 1558 to 1603, is often considered a golden age—a time when the arts flourished, exploration expanded England’s horizons, and the nation emerged as a significant European power. Despite numerous obstacles, Elizabeth I established herself as one of England’s most successful and admired rulers. Her exceptional intelligence, political savvy, and charismatic leadership enabled her to overcome immense challenges, secure her kingdom, and leave a lasting legacy.

Early Life and Preparation for Power

Elizabeth’s early years were marked by instability and danger. Born on September 7, 1533, to King Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn, she was initially welcomed as the potential heir to the throne. However, her birth was a disappointment to Henry, who had desperately sought a male heir. When Elizabeth was just two and a half years old, her mother was executed on charges of treason, and Elizabeth was declared illegitimate, stripping her of her status as a potential successor. These early adversities shaped her cautious and resilient nature, traits that would prove crucial in her later life.

Despite the political uncertainties surrounding her, Elizabeth received a first-rate education, which was rare for women of her time. Her tutors, including the eminent scholar Roger Ascham, trained her in languages, history, rhetoric, and philosophy. Elizabeth became fluent in Latin, Greek, French, and Italian, and she developed a profound understanding of both classical and contemporary works. This education not only prepared her intellectually for the complexities of rule but also imbued her with a love for the arts and learning that would later characterize her reign.

Elizabeth’s path to the throne was fraught with danger. After her father’s death, her half-brother, Edward VI, ascended to the throne, but his reign was short-lived. Upon Edward’s death in 1553, her older half-sister, Mary I, took the throne. A fervent Catholic, Mary viewed Elizabeth, a Protestant, as a threat. Elizabeth was imprisoned in the Tower of London on suspicion of being involved in a Protestant rebellion, a situation that could have led to her execution. However, through a combination of diplomacy, intelligence, and good fortune, Elizabeth survived. Her experiences during this period instilled in her a deep understanding of the precariousness of power and the importance of caution and discretion.

Ascending the Throne: The Religious Settlement

When Mary I died in 1558, Elizabeth became queen at the age of 25, inheriting a nation deeply divided by religious strife. England had been torn apart by the conflicting demands of Catholicism and Protestantism under previous monarchs, leading to persecution, rebellion, and instability. Elizabeth’s first major challenge as queen was to bring peace and stability to her fractured kingdom.

Elizabeth’s solution was the Elizabethan Religious Settlement, introduced in 1559. This series of laws established Protestantism as the official religion of England but allowed for a degree of religious tolerance. The Act of Supremacy reasserted the independence of the Church of England from Rome, with Elizabeth as its Supreme Governor. The Act of Uniformity mandated the use of a common prayer book but allowed for some latitude in practice, which helped to appease more moderate Catholics. This settlement was a masterful compromise that reduced religious tensions and avoided the extreme measures that had led to bloodshed in the past. Elizabeth’s ability to navigate this religious divide was a testament to her political skill and her deep understanding of the need for national unity.

Maintaining Power: The Virgin Queen and Domestic Policy

In a male-dominated society, Elizabeth’s rule was an extraordinary achievement. She faced constant pressure to marry and produce an heir, as it was widely believed that a woman could not govern effectively on her own. However, Elizabeth deftly managed to use her unmarried status to her advantage. By remaining single, she retained full control over her own destiny and kept potential suitors, both domestic and foreign, at bay. Her status as the “Virgin Queen” became central to her public image, symbolizing her devotion to England above all personal concerns.

Elizabeth’s domestic policies were marked by careful management and a focus on stability. She surrounded herself with loyal and capable advisors, such as Sir William Cecil, Lord Burghley, who helped her implement effective governance. Elizabeth’s reign saw improvements in England’s economy, the consolidation of royal authority, and the development of a more centralized state. Her government was characterized by a cautious approach to expenditure and a reluctance to engage in unnecessary wars, which helped to secure the nation’s finances and avoid the pitfalls that had plagued previous reigns.

Facing External Threats: The Defeat of the Spanish Armada

Elizabeth’s reign was also defined by her handling of external threats, particularly from Catholic powers like Spain. The most significant challenge came in 1588 when King Philip II of Spain launched the Spanish Armada, a massive fleet intended to invade England and overthrow Elizabeth. The defeat of the Armada is one of the most celebrated events of Elizabeth’s reign and a turning point in English history.

Despite being outnumbered and facing a formidable foe, the English navy, under commanders like Sir Francis Drake, used superior tactics and the advantage of home waters to defeat the Spanish fleet. The victory was aided by the weather, with storms—referred to as the “Protestant wind”—dispersing the Spanish ships. Elizabeth’s leadership during this crisis was crucial; her speech to the troops at Tilbury, in which she famously declared, “I have the heart and stomach of a king,” rallied her forces and inspired confidence in her leadership. The defeat of the Armada not only secured England’s independence but also established the nation as a rising naval power and laid the groundwork for its future dominance on the seas.

Cultural Flourishing: The Elizabethan Renaissance

Elizabeth’s reign is often synonymous with the flowering of English culture, known as the Elizabethan Renaissance. The queen herself was a great patron of the arts, and her court became a center of cultural and intellectual life. Elizabeth’s love for literature, music, and the visual arts fostered an environment where creativity could thrive.

This period saw the emergence of some of the greatest figures in English literature, including William Shakespeare, Christopher Marlowe, Edmund Spenser, and Ben Jonson. These writers produced works that explored complex themes of power, identity, and the human condition—many of which reflected the challenges and triumphs of Elizabeth’s own reign. Shakespeare’s plays, in particular, are often seen as a mirror of the Elizabethan world, with their deep explorations of political intrigue, ambition, and the nature of kingship.

Beyond literature, Elizabeth’s reign also witnessed advancements in music, architecture, and the visual arts. The Elizabethan style, characterized by elaborate decoration and classical motifs, became prominent in English architecture and design. The queen’s own image, carefully crafted through portraits and public appearances, reinforced her authority and the perception of her as a powerful and almost mythical figure. The cultural achievements of the Elizabethan era left a lasting impact on English identity and continued to influence the arts for centuries.

Cultural Achievements: Fashion, Architecture, and Social Customs

The Elizabethan Era was a time of cultural renaissance in England, driven by Elizabeth’s patronage and the growing prosperity of the nation. Under her reign, fashion, architecture, and social customs flourished, reflecting the confidence and creativity of the period.

Fashion and Social Norms

Elizabeth I’s influence on fashion was profound. Her personal style, characterized by elaborate gowns, ruffs, and intricate jewelry, became the standard for the English court and beyond. The queen’s attire was not just a matter of personal preference but a tool of statecraft, designed to project power, wealth, and authority. This fashion trend quickly spread among the nobility and the rising middle class, who adopted these styles as symbols of their own status and aspirations. The emphasis on fashion during Elizabeth’s reign also mirrored the era’s social stratification, where clothing was a key indicator of one’s place in the social hierarchy.

Social customs in Elizabethan England also evolved, particularly among the upper classes. The court became a center of sophisticated manners, where etiquette and ceremony were meticulously observed. These practices extended into the broader society, influencing the behavior of the gentry and merchants. The growth of a more refined social culture reflected the increasing importance of social status and decorum during Elizabeth’s reign, as well as the queen’s own efforts to cultivate a court that embodied the ideals of order, loyalty, and honor.

Architecture and the Arts

Architecture during the Elizabethan period saw the emergence of a distinctive style that blended Gothic and Renaissance influences. This era produced some of England’s most iconic buildings, such as Hardwick Hall and Longleat House, which symbolized the power and wealth of their owners. These grand estates were designed not only as residences but as statements of status and influence, with their symmetrical facades, large windows, and richly decorated interiors showcasing the fusion of traditional English and new European styles.

The arts also flourished under Elizabeth’s reign, particularly literature and theater. The queen’s support of the arts, combined with the relative peace and prosperity of the period, created a fertile environment for creative expression. The Elizabethan theater became a central cultural institution, with playwrights like William Shakespeare, Christopher Marlowe, and Ben Jonson producing works that explored complex themes of power, identity, and human nature. These works have endured as some of the most significant contributions to English literature, reflecting the intellectual and cultural vibrancy of Elizabeth’s reign.

Shaping the Future: Elizabeth’s Influence on Monarchs and Society

Elizabeth I’s reign had a lasting impact on the English monarchy and society, setting precedents that would influence her successors and the development of the nation.

The Elizabethan Religious Settlement

One of Elizabeth’s most significant contributions was the Elizabethan Religious Settlement, which established a moderate form of Protestantism as the state religion while allowing for a degree of religious tolerance. This pragmatic approach helped to stabilize a nation that had been torn apart by religious conflict under previous monarchs. Elizabeth’s settlement laid the foundation for a distinctly English form of Protestantism, which would become central to the national identity. Her ability to balance religious factions and maintain peace in a deeply divided country influenced the policies of future monarchs, who would continue to navigate the complexities of religious governance.

Monarchical Authority and Image

Elizabeth’s reign also had a profound impact on the concept of monarchical authority in England. She skillfully crafted an image of herself as both a powerful ruler and a devoted guardian of her people. This blend of authority and benevolence became a model for future monarchs, particularly in the way they engaged with their subjects and justified their rule. Elizabeth’s use of symbolism, pageantry, and the arts to reinforce her authority demonstrated the importance of public perception in maintaining power, a lesson that would resonate with later rulers, especially during the Stuart era.

Economic Growth and Colonial Ambitions

Elizabeth’s reign also laid the groundwork for England’s later economic and colonial expansion. Her support for explorers like Sir Francis Drake and Sir Walter Raleigh helped to establish England’s presence in the New World and other overseas territories, setting the stage for the British Empire’s rise in the following centuries. The queen’s economic policies, including the encouragement of trade and industry, contributed to the growth of a more modern capitalist economy. The establishment of the East India Company in 1600 marked a significant milestone in England’s commercial history, reflecting Elizabeth’s vision of expanding English influence beyond Europe.

The Significance of Elizabeth’s Foreign Policy

Elizabeth I’s foreign policy was characterized by a delicate balance between maintaining England’s independence and navigating the complex politics of Europe. Her relationships with other European powers, particularly Spain and France, were marked by a combination of diplomacy, caution, and, when necessary, military action.

Relations with Spain and the Defeat of the Spanish Armada

The most significant foreign threat to Elizabeth’s reign came from Spain, under King Philip II. The religious and political rivalry between Protestant England and Catholic Spain culminated in the Spanish Armada of 1588, when Philip attempted to invade England. Elizabeth’s leadership during this crisis was crucial. The defeat of the Armada was not only a military victory but also a powerful symbol of English resilience and Elizabeth’s ability to protect her realm. This event solidified her reputation as a strong and capable leader, capable of defending her kingdom against even the most formidable foes.

Diplomatic Relations with France

Elizabeth’s relationship with France was more complex and required careful diplomacy. As another Catholic power, France posed a potential threat, but Elizabeth recognized the value of using France as a counterbalance to Spain. Throughout her reign, she maintained diplomatic relations with France, skillfully navigating the shifting alliances and rivalries of European politics. Elizabeth’s cautious approach to foreign policy, marked by a reluctance to engage in costly wars, preserved England’s resources and allowed the nation to emerge stronger and more unified.

Legacy of Caution and Diplomacy

Elizabeth’s foreign policy legacy is one of caution and pragmatism. She avoided unnecessary military conflicts, relying instead on diplomacy, espionage, and strategic alliances to secure England’s position in Europe. Her approach influenced the foreign policies of her successors, particularly in the early Stuart period, where a similar preference for diplomacy over war can be seen. Elizabeth’s ability to maintain England’s independence while navigating the complex web of European politics set a standard for future monarchs and helped to establish England as a significant power on the international stage.

Historical Interpretations and Ongoing Debates

Historians have long been fascinated by Elizabeth I’s reign, and interpretations of her legacy have evolved over time. Early historical accounts often portrayed her as an ideal monarch, celebrated for her wisdom, virtue, and strong leadership. During the Victorian era, Elizabeth was revered as a national icon, embodying the ideals of female authority and English pride.

In more recent years, scholars have adopted a more nuanced view of Elizabeth’s reign, examining the complexities and contradictions of her rule. Some historians have highlighted the challenges she faced, such as the precariousness of her power, her use of political manipulation, and the difficulties in managing a deeply divided kingdom. Others have debated the extent to which her achievements were due to her personal qualities versus the circumstances of her time, considering factors such as her skilled advisors and the relative stability of the period.

Debates also continue about Elizabeth’s legacy, particularly regarding her failure to provide a clear succession plan, which led to uncertainty and conflict after her death. However, despite these discussions, Elizabeth I remains a towering figure in English history, admired for her resilience, intelligence, and the lasting impact of her reign.

The Final Years and Enduring Legacy

The later years of Elizabeth’s reign were marked by increasing challenges. The deaths of key advisors, ongoing threats from Spain, and economic difficulties strained the aging queen and her government. Additionally, the issue of succession loomed large, as Elizabeth had refused to marry or name an heir, leading to uncertainty and anxiety within the court. Nevertheless, Elizabeth remained a formidable ruler until her death on March 24, 1603, at the age of 69.

Elizabeth I’s legacy is one of resilience, intelligence, and successful leadership in the face of daunting challenges. She managed to maintain her authority in a male-dominated society, navigate complex international politics, and foster a cultural renaissance that defined an era. The Elizabethan Age is remembered as a time of national pride and achievement, and Elizabeth herself as a monarch who embodied the spirit of her people. Her reign laid the foundations for England’s future as a global power and left an indelible mark on the nation’s history.

In summary, Queen Elizabeth I was an extraordinary leader whose reign transformed England. Despite facing immense opposition—from religious conflict and foreign threats to the pressures of ruling as a woman in a patriarchal society—she emerged as one of the most successful and revered monarchs in history. Her legacy continues to inspire and influence, making her one of the most iconic figures in the annals of English history.

photo belongs to Historic Royal Palaces