#people are also Very Wrong about Patrick obviously

[recallthename]

I can’t stop thinking about Art viewing his queerness as something to grow out of.

Why he focuses so hard on Tashi. Why he drops Patrick after college even before he’s with Tashi. Why he speaks to Patrick the way he does in the sauna.

Yeah you could argue he’s mad about the cheating in the latter and I’m sure he is. He’s once again being left out. He can’t stomach it. But he’s also so so angry at Patrick for the way he makes him feel.

He’s obsessed with Tashi. Obviously he is. But that’s the sneaky thing about bisexuality. You can focus on the real attraction you feel toward a woman and use those feelings to push out any attraction you have to men. Which… kind of… works for him. Up until Patrick returns.

[therevengeoffrankenstein]

openly weeping at the idea of someone genuinely hating soul punk.

[midwestprincesss]

patrick zweig sfw alphabet

a/n: i love my mannnn. btw sex is mentioned in these hcs but like it's patrick so i can't do anything about that....... but it's nothing like. detailed. so yeah. also there's one single use of y/n (i hate using it but WHATEVERRRRR)

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

before dating, you started out as friends. then best friends. then friends with benefits. so it took him a lot of time to get used to the idea of being affectionate with you. like he was so convinced no one wanted to have an actual relationship with him besides from fucking him. so first he refrained from any form of affection, especially pda. poor baby didn't want you to feel embarrassed with him :( . everyone knew him as the guy almost every girl had a one-night stand with, so obviously he didn't want to give you a bad reputation. it was like that for a few months, until one day when you decided to ask him about it.

"why'd you drop my hand?" you asked him, eyes wide and confused. and even a little hurt, maybe. patrick didn't say anything. he just hummed and tilted his head at you. "patrick. in the cafeteria- we were with tashi and art and we were holding hands but suddenly you let go of mine."

patrick did not understand why you were asking him that at all. "there were a lot of people there...?"

you raised an eyebrow at him. did he want to keep your relationship a secret? art and tashi knew- you figured other people found out as well, so what was this all about? "what do you even- patrick. are you embarrassed with me or something?" you joked. but it wasn't really a joke to you, because the question haunted you for a while now. every time you tried to be even remotely affectionate with him in public- he turned you down. so something must be wrong with you, right?

he laughed. in your face. "how could i ever be embarrassed with you? i thought maybe you were embarrassed with me!" he confessed and you had to refrain yourself from actually yelling from disbelief- "why the hell would i be embarrassed with you?"

"i'm asking you the exact same question!" he said, looking down at you with a little smirk. but his eyes were sad. "thought you didn't want people to know about us. thought maybe they'd give you shit for dating the manwhore" he referred to himself, laughing a little.

"you're so fucking stupid patrick! everyone knows, and no one gives me shit, because guess what? no one cares. and stop calling yourself a manwhore. only i get to." you scolded him and he chuckled. "why do you get to?"

"cause you're my man. and you're also my whore." you joked. and after that he couldn't keep his hands off of you. he was so happy to show you off- and he was so happy you let him show you off. so yeah, he's very affectionate. in every way possible- carrying your bag, giving you his jacket, buying you every thing you could ever wish for, keeping hair ties on his wrists for you in case you need to put your hair up, buying the same lip gloss you always use and keeping it in his car in case you need to reapply and you forgot it at home, and so. much. more.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

your friendship with patrick started in highschool, really really randomly. you were both freshmen, and art and him were running after eachother in the hallway. you thought hmm i should be silly and trip one of these guys over! so you made art trip over ur foot. and patrick was like omg noo dont do that to him blah blah blah! it kinda just started from there. and he's like THE best friend. he's funny and nice and helpful and supportive and tells u everything. sometimes too much. tells u so fucking much that u knew all his kinks before you even started hooking up. so yeah.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

PATRICK LOVEEEEES TO CUDDLE!!!!!! it's his favourite thing ever. and it'll take him a lot to admit- but he likes being the little spoon. like yeah yeah he's a little bitch who's way too cocky for his own good- but he always needs you especially after a he's had a bad day, or when he's lost a match. he loves it when u take care of him. bonus points of u play w his hair<3

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

if he finds the right person(you😉), he'll def want to settle down. now...the cooking part- he'll try. he'll try really really hard for you but unfortunately i feel like the best he can do is make an omelette. but!!!! you two manage to split house chores, so you cook and he cleans usually.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

so i feel like there's no in between- he either just dips with no explanation, or overthinks it for 1 whole month and then when he finally gets the courage to do so he can't seem to actually say the words "we're breaking up" and just tries to give hints??? . i will not explain any further mostly because I HATE THIS QUESTION! SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!!!!!🔥

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

ohhhhh. before meeting you he felt like committing to someone was limiting- like having to go to prison or something. but after he realized the feelings he had for you were more serious, he actually started thinking about it- being married to someone as amazing as you didn't sound so bad. not bad at all. so tbh if he could have he would have proposed to u on the first day of highschool

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

ok this IS ACCURATE and i do not give a shit what anyone says- patrick is so so so gentle with you. (and like now im not talking ab sex cause he can def be rough there) he's such a cutie- whenever he says something he thinks might upset you he chooses his words really carefully. cause he doesn't wanna make you feel bad about anything ever :( (but like except if he's angry cause if he's angry then he doesn't think he just says shit)

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

patrick loves hugging ANYONE. literally anyone. i mean, we've seen that one scene with art where he's just running after him to hug him. he just loves physical touch overall. bear hugs = patrick. that's the only way he hugs ppl.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

it takes him a loooot of time to say it. and as much as I don't like it he'd probably say it the first time u guys are having sex, after you started dating and not while u were still fwb. of course, he's thought about telling you before, but he just couldn't!!!! but after you're done and you're laying in bed next to eachother, he kisses you on your forehead and tells you "i meant it, by the way. i love you. a lot"

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

really fucking jealous. and when he's jealous he turns into the bitchiest man ever. he can't help it. he gets a lil mean. like, a guy is hitting on u at a college party- but u brush him off, you tell him you're not interested. but now patrick is mad at you too for some reason??? he won't talk to you, he'd just give you dirty looks. all while constantly walking past that guy and "accidentally" bumping into him with his shoulder. maybe he'd even accidentally spill his drink on him, oops!

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

his kisses are hungry, passionate, like he might pass out if he won't kiss you. he kisses you EVERYWHERE. literally everywhere. and he mostly likes being kissed on his neck, especially if you leave him hickeys.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

patrick might be a cocky bastard to most people, but with children he's a sweetheart. he gets along with them so well, and children love being around him as well (mostly because he's a manchild)

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

slow. you wake up at 10, you stay in bed two more hours. he insists on spending the whole day in bed, but you tell him it's a really bad idea. "i'm really late for class, patrick." you tell him. and honestly, he does not give a fuck. he just pulls you back in and starts kissing you.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

screaming crying cause this is actually a sfw alphabet so............... i will be sfw....... on nights when you're really tired, you watch movies together. patrick loves old animated movies, like he finds them really fucking hilarious for some reason- as i said he's a manchild. you both just end up sleeping before the movie ends but still, the action counts.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

once you're best friends with him, there's no way out. you WILL know every little detail about him. the good ones and the bad ones. the ones you want to know and the ones you don't. he tells you every. single. fucking. thing. even if it's unimportant. he just bought strawberry jam? you'll know. once when he was 10 he saw his grandma naked and it gave him reccurring nightmares for 2 months? you'll know. there's really nothing you can do about it.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

i feel like he gets angry pretty easily, but most of the time it passes easily too. and usually, it's not about something serious either. like he'd be pissed off cause you told him you can't hang out cause you're tired. he'd text u shit like

oh yeah?

okay then.

go sleep

sleep with whatever man is in ur bed rn.

(3 mins later)

i was kidding!!!!!!!!! i hope u sleep well and ilove u😇❤️

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

he remembers everything he knows everything he is constantly thinking about you etc etc etc. he sees a turquoise dress. he remembers you once told him that your favourite colour when you were a kid was turquoise. he buys it. #richboyfriend! ,(more like rich parents but oh well)

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

he thinks it's stupid but one time you two were sitting in the kitchen, and you pulled out a crumpled up gum wrapper out of your pocket and with your lipliner you drew two stick figures, a girl and a boy, with a heart around them. you showed it to him and said - "it's us!"

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

not protective but more like possessive . as much as i hate to say it, you two have a lot of discussions about that. but at least he never comments on what you wear- "my girl can wear whatever tf she wants cause im afraid of her" is so patrick.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

he'd put a lot of effort into everything he does for you, but it doesn't always turn out amazing:( but at least he tries, and that's good enough for you!!!

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

i feel like patrick gets really fucking drunk at parties, to the point where he can't even walk without someone's help.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

women and men want him. like soooo bad. and all the time. wherever he is there's always someone checking him out. he literally radiates big dick energy. so I'd say he's not concerned about his looks at all.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

yes, very much so. even when he's on tour and he's away from you, he feels like a part of him is missing. if he has a bad day, he'd think "it's okay i'll go sleep over at he place after the match anyway" but then he realizes he's in another fucking country and he gets sooo sad:( but at least he can call you. so that's okay

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

patrick CANNOT spell also he does not use emojis correctly. like that man has big ass hands his phone keyboard is way too small for him.

hey hoeney i am donwe with practice!

patrick what did you just call me

oops i meantm honey*

or

im at the suprmarkert you want ice cream?👄👅

PATRICK STOP USING THOSE LMFAO???

why. Whats wrong with tthem?

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

if someone doesn't get along with art that's like a huge ass red flag for him so ...yeah😭😭😭😭

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

patrick talks in his sleep like crazyyyy!!!! and it never makes any fucking sense. this man never shuts the fuck up!!!!!!

"y/n"

"hmm?"

"if we go get the soap it will not be okay i already told you she said it will destroy it. don't go there. stop!!!!! stop!!!! put it back!!!"

"what the fuck"

yeah guys i had sm fun writing this.......... YIIPEE!!

[inbabylontheywept]

Hey, so for context it's 3:45 AM where I am, and I'm stark awake at this hour because I had to take a nap yesterday due to eating a meal I really shouldn't have that is still wreacking havoc on my intestines. I'm definitely going to regret sending this ask HARD once the sun comes up, but I've been doing a lot of unadvisable shit on the internet over the past 3 days so why not add this to the pile.

I'm kind of having a weird emotional thing right now over your last post because it's just too ridiculous to be true, and I'm realizing the majority of your blog is probably all creative writing not intended to be taken seriously, but I've believed everything you've claimed to be a true story up until this point? And now I'm faced with either being a gullible fool, or an asshole for saying this if it IS all true, and I have to ask or I'll never know? I shouldn't be letting this get to me but it is.

So please, I ask sincerely and with no intention of being a jackass, are your life stories actually all true, or are they supposed to come across as obviously exaggerated or wholly fictional? I'm sure I could piece it together if I lay in bed and thought about it for an hour or two, but I think I'll just take the L and ask outright because fuck it.

But THEN if it truly is just a creative writing blog, would you keep the bit going and claim it's all real when it's not? Like, do you see why I'm going crazy? I am a very gullible, easily lied to person and that has lead me to be on high alert, but I almost always jump at the wrong things and come across as a distrustful asshole, so?? Will you assume this ask itself is LARP because of all the specific details I tacked on, which are intended to garner a sense of sincerity? I'm realizing I may have been playing checkers with someone playing chess all this time and I'm wigging out man

So, I'll start with the small stuff first:

The camp was in Prescott, AZ, in the mountains, over labor day weekend which is in late fall. I don't know the actual temperatures as numbers, but the people at the camp spent more time being cold than hot. The camp organizers also did bring a ludicrous amount of the pink sauce. I don't think the campsite itself was ever intended to provide potable water, just utility water for the showers and dishes and other non-for-direct-consumption tasks. So in that area, the camp people overprepared because Arizonans don't fuck around with dehydration.

I'm also pretty sure they had some water available, they were just very careful with it. I think there were a few diabetic kids, and they were making sure they wouldn't have to subsist on the weird gatorade like everyone else. Maybe. I don't honestly know.

But that's one story, and the thing that you're really asking is, are all these stories fake? Is it all just creative writing? And the answer to that is a soft no.

As a writer, I'm pretty strongly influenced by Patrick McManus. A lot of my stories are told in the American Tall Tale style - which is exaggerated, and dramaticized, but tells a story that is true nonetheless. I am going to keep the specifics of the exaggeration and dramatization between myself and God, but I would look at my stories and say that they're each more than 80% true. I hope that relieves some of your stress.

I wouldn't call what I do creative writing exercises. But I also wouldn't encourage you to take them 100% seriously. Both because I talk a big game, and because they are, at the end of the day, just funny stories. I certainly wouldn't want you to lose any more sleep over them.

You aren't a jackass for expressing incredulity. It's part of my style, and I welcome it. I also wouldn't call you a gullible fool for believing things in the past. We're good, you and I, and I've enjoyed having you as a reader. I hope you keep reading. Just, maybe not at 3:45 AM. Take care of yourself, Babylon

[mayabruhbruh]

What do you think of the possibility of Will and Chance happening? I feel like it would be really poor writing tbh but I feel like they will give Will a different love interest because they’ll try to make all of the audience „happy“ But that would just truly not align with the writing so far I feel like.

Love your analyses btw<3

THANK YOUU! That's so kind :) And great ask! This is definitely a topic that the ST fandom needs to discuss.

The default question when people have little to no hope in Byler is, well, who the hell is Will going to end up with? Because it’s become increasingly evident that they’re trying to set him up for a romance. The “im not gonna fall in love”, the “it’s not my fault you don’t like girls”, even the gif shown above. It all can be interpreted to mean that Will is going to find his person soon.

So... to be completely honest, I had no idea who Chance was until this ask popped up and I had to look him up💀. It’s been a while since I’ve been on here, so I’m a little rusty on the deep lore lmao. So, in the off chance that others might also be confused, here’s a (rare) gif of him I found.

I think that’s him with the Hawkins cap on the right. Correct me if I’m wrong.

I’m not sure where the rumors that this guy was going to become a bigger part of the show came from, but that seems highly unlikely to me. I feel like they would have either hinted at it in the fourth season (like how they’re giving Patrick here quite a sizeable role so that he’ll be memorable to us later when he gets vecnafied) or they would have announced him as a more prominent character already like how they did for s5 with Holly, that one new kid character, and also how they did Amybeth for s4. Idk, maybe it’s unreasonable to think they would have to do that, but it feels quite too out-of-the-blue. Especially for a character that would take on the role of becoming our central character’s love interest, which is a BIG DEAL. Especially if it’s queer lol.

Secondly, I firmly believe that it would be a disservice to Will’s own desires to meet someone new.

Will said this explicitly in the van scene, and as of now, we’re still under the impression that Mike is his person. Forget about Mike’s issues and feelings for a second, and think about what Will is saying here. He feels like a mistake for being different, but Mike makes him feel like he’s not a mistake at all, that he’s better for being different. Mike gives him courage to fight on. Fuck. Tbh, it makes me wonder how long he’d felt this way. As a byler, you might be inclined to think his feelings have been on for forever, but narratively, he could have easily just realized his own feelings very recently, most likely sometime between season 3 and 4. It doesn’t mean the feelings weren’t there before, but realistically neither Will nor the general audience were aware of it before now.

Moving on.

Has anyone heard of the rule of Chekhov’s gun? It’s an incredibly clever and widely-used tool in screenwriting and storytelling in general that helps to clue the watchers in for what’s to come next.

Think of Lucas’ wrist rocket in season 1. When they introduced it as a flimsy-looking, no-good weapon that he’d put too much pride in at first, it gives us a good laugh and we move on. But really, it very meticulously set us up to subconsciously anticipate to see it again later. That’s what Chekhov’s gun is all about. Set-ups, foreshadowing, hidden treasures.

Another great example would be the painting reveal of s4. Obviously, after finding out that Will was painting something, bylers immediately figured it was for Mike and BEGGED and HOPED and PLEADED that we’d be able to finally see it, but to the general audience it was just another something that they’d have to pick apart and realize was actually of importance as the season progressed. (It’s also a good way of showing that the writers are fully capable of engrossing the entire fan base and general audience in his and Mike’s story. Just knowing Will had painted something and that it was for Mike created this sense of PLEASE TELL ME WHAT IT IS AND WJATS GOING ON and whatnot that watchers are simply so susceptible to it’s insane.)

Okay, back to the van scene. Will’s confession.

Now, I’m not saying that the writers intentionally used this foreshadowing tool for us to find and understand immediately. There are plenty, plenty of instances where writers use Chekhov’s gun principle and it flies over peoples heads purposefully. What I’m trying to say is that, thematically and narratively, they would never have introduced Wills feelings for Mike if not for it to have importance to the story, or for nothing to happen with it at all. It’s a set up. And a maddeningly good one, at that. Because queer stories already do tend to fly over people’s heads, and also because there’s the added drama between Mike and Eleven that makes it seem quite impossible for any of these feelings to be addressed in the midst of such emotional chaos. But whatever. I think I’m rambling.

Basically, whether they end up together or not, whether Mike reciprocates these feelings, Will is forever established to be in love with Mike. The confession was simply too grand and emotional and earnest for him to just switch up abruptly next season when he meets someone new that he might have a better chance with. Even if there were to be a whole new arc for him where he learns to let go of Mike or something crappy like that, it would be terrible writing on their end and poor use of a well-set-up Chekhov’s gun reference. It would be like introducing the gun in the display case in scene one, then two scenes later just tucking it away into a storage closet for the remainder of the story. Like… what?

And plus, it’s HIGHLY unlikely that Will would end up with that sort of storyline next season when he’s literally WITH Mike for presumably a majority of the time (based on the set pics so far).

So that’s my debunking of the Chance rumors :) and I didn’t even get to mention how incompatible they’d be just naturally as characters. Chance, a Jason-following jock that hates Dungeons and Dragons, fantasy and nerdy things, and willingly assisted in beating up the Hellfire Club when they were trying to find Eddie. What about that at all screams Will’s type? And if you’re thinking “unconventional couple enemies to lovers”, just don’t. This isn’t a rom-com, especially for a queer plot line lol. I think it’s safe to say there’s no “chance”😉 that they will ever happen. And either way, it’d be a bummer if they did. Cus it would just be Will defeatedly settling for someone that isn’t Mike.

UGH! It makes me sad that the one thing that is firmly being teased by the writers (Will’s love playing a major role in the plot to come) is constantly being questioned and framed as different questions. “Will Mike reciprocate?” “Does this mean Mike and Eleven break up?” “Who will end up with who?” SHHH Frankly, to me this is already a win. It’s become obvious that Will having feelings for him will come up again soon, and the rest of the evidence that accounts for Mike’s end already speaks for itself, so I prefer to just sit back and watch it all unfold.

Again, thanks so much for the ask!! This was so fun to dissect and feel free to keep sending questions into my inbox. It might take me a second to post my response but I’m determined to get through all of them. Love you guys!! <3

[chaifootsteps]

Oh my god your ask box is open.

Ummm didja see how Viv liked fanart of Vox telling Val he's beautiful after his wings get clipped?

That author who wrote that fic of Angel being told he's beautiful paralleling with the goddamn creator liking and encouraging Val content to sympathize with him....

No hate to that artist but when you're the creator you need to have more fucking responsibility. She isn't condemning Val. She's woobifying and downplaying his actions to the point where she likes her *rapist character* being sympathetic and "beautiful" but has the gall to say Angel is a "loser".

And while I'm at it, she also like a comment about "people simp for horror characters like Patrick Bateman and Leatherface--"

Shut. Up.

Shut the fuck up.

The directors and actors condemn the actions of those killers. Christian Bale said he hates Patrick Bateman and thinks there's nothing good about him. That "sigmas" are missing the point and need to get a life.

LeatherFace is mentally challenged and doesn't understand what he's doing. He's surrounded by a psychopathic family who loves him and obviously doesn't teach him right from wrong.

Scott Cawthon punishes the fuck out of William Afton. Spring-locked painfully, tormented by the souls of the kids he's killed, crushed, burned.... his own son said that he'd burn in Hell.

I could go on and on. Also Jason Voorhees kills 2 rapists. Freddy Kruegar is burned for his crimes.

These people are so fucking stupid it hurts.

Viv coddles, woobifies, sympathizes, and downplays Valentino. The abusive rapist. Compared him to a *high school girl* for fucks sakes.

What Val does to Angel is also not over the top or goofy. It's *very real*. The abuse is very realistic and isn't unbelievable.

Alastor isn't a rapist. So stop bringing that up.

You can't control what people do with your content. But you can control what you encourage and how you view serious topics.

So much for her 3 day Threads meltdown where she screamed about caring about SA victims.

She's a rape fetishist just like Raph. Why else would she keep him around? I don't care that they have these fetishes, but stop pretending it's good SA rep.

Also Mimzy is meant to be Jewish. Rosie is a blood libel. Why are Jews in Hell? Fuck off with that "chicken" bullshit.

Fucking vile, Medrano.

And to be clear, I don't care if a portion of the fandom wants to expand on Valentino with headcanons, sit on him like a baby bird, and adopt him as their silly little rabbit. That's villains and fandom, that just is what it is.

The problem is when Viv does it, when she coddles Valentino and insists everyone else do likewise or else. Viv isn't a member of the fandom, she's the creator, and one who's made it her business to shout down and belittle every single fan who's uncomfortable with Valentino. That's a different, shameful thing, and it's absolutely disgusting.

[stpansy]

saint ive seen several ppl say “side effect” is peterick coded. why??

oh man well. um. ok. first of all, the title comes from a line in station to station, which is one of patrick's favorite bowie songs (this is also the 2004 interview where pete says if he had to marry a dude it would be patrick lol, it's a good one, you should watch it).

if i'm being so honest side effect is one of those songs that is very difficult for me to listen to without feeling like i'm being hit by a bus. it's so achingly naked in its honesty. it is also one of fob's songs that i feel is most obviously about being queer. the repeated refrain of "but i'm coming out" and the way it switches to "think of all the places where you've been lost and found... out," are just. genuinely haunting to me. particularly that pause in the final line, and the way patrick's voice sounds so raw over just the acoustic guitar. i talk all the time about fob having certain songs that really just cut to the core in such a specific way if you're queer, and this is one of them. the whole thing is brimming with that feeling of realization and terror that what you are inside will completely alter the way you're viewed forever in the negative.

but this song is also about a relationship. it's about two people. "why can you read me like no one else?" this person already understands the speaker the way nobody else does. they are the only person in the world who does, even set apart from "my friends." but if "they" find out it will "make them so jealous... make them hate us." jealous of what these two have and hating them because of it at the same time. it's not either or, it's both, people will be jealous of them and hate them for what they find out, and it's not a possibility it's a certainty--so "i hide behind these words" and "think of all the places where you've been lost and found... out / in between my sheets in between rights and wrongs."

as for why ppl see this as a p2 song, well, there's a lot there. a lot of it is pretty self-explanatory. a lot of it is born out of the way they talk to/about each other. i think specifically of this pete quote (from 2020 by the way, but a motif that's been echoed through their whole friendship).

source

this is already too long so i'm going to leave it here before i get too crazy lmao.

[justrainandcoffee]

A Manual of Good Behavior and Polite Accomplishments (Alfie Solomons x fem!oc)

Or the first time that Rose said 'fuck you'.

Alfie Solomons x Rose Coldwell (ofc). Masterlist

Summary: An awkward encounter between Rose who was 10 years old, and her mother's employer ends with the girl teaming up with Alfie, also 10, teaching Da Vinci, the cockatiel, a new vocabulary. If the old man thinks he can control her, he's wrong.

Warnings: Old fashioned thoughts, even for a story set in 1890s. Otherwise it's just a kids shenanigans.

Words: 1.7k || The title of the fic is a real book that existed back then.|| I missed writing for them as kids 🥺❤️.

1898

Rose was only ten years old and it was with her mother in the house where she worked to help her. Mary Coldwell was visibly pregnant and couldn't do all the chores that the owner of the house wanted.

Very often Rose heard her mother talking to Mrs. Solomons, their neighbour, about this man: Mr. Clarkson. A rich gentleman about 50 years old, very proud of himself. He's everything a man living in London in 1898 should be. Richard Patrick Clarkson was a respectable man who drunk whiskey and smoked cigars. He played croquet and poker with friends that were from the same old school as he was.

The imminent arrival of a new century wasn't something that Mr. Clarkson wanted. Why, he asks himself, time has to pass? The nineteenth century it was a good century. He grew up in it and he couldn't complain about his achievements and the man he was. He wished he could say the same about the new generations.

He's in his living room reading the newspaper when he saw the daughter of his servant carrying some towels to the bedroom upstairs because her mother couldn't do it anymore. The child was whistling a song that she learnt in school and Mr. Clarkson found that incredible unacceptable. A little girl like her, shouldn't be whistling. That's for thugs and those teenage boys who spent their days bothering people. Whistling shouldn't be for girls, never.

"What's your name? And, how old are you?" he asked when the kid was coming down.

"My name is Rose, sir. I'm ten."

"You're a young pretty lady, Ms. Rose. I have something for you," the man said giving her an old book. Its yellow pages showed that it's some decades old and it had been accumulating dust on the bookshelf. "It belonged to my eldest daughter. She lives in Boston, now. She married a banker and has three kids. I want you to read this and give me your opinion next time you come here with your mother again."

"Oh… okay. Thanks, sir."

The book, thought Mr. Clarkson, it was going to help the girl to understand the importance of behaving like a proper lady.

Evidently, Mr. Clarkson didn't know Rose Coldwell.

The book caused the opposite effect on her. It was written a lot of decades before she was born and undoubtedly it was old fashioned. Something that a girl born in those years couldn't even imagine.

And that was what Rose said to him next time she went with her mother there. Obviously that wasn't the answer that the man was expecting.

"Young ladies do not speak unless a man allows them, Ms. Rose."

"But you asked me, sir. When a person asks something, usually the other gives an answer."

"You're a very disrespectful, girl! At your age my sweet daughter was very educated and knew the etiquette that girls like you don't know anymore!"

"What century was that, sir?"

"You're going to grow up one day, child. And you're going to be one of those who act like a man. Spitting out and whistling like you were doing the other day. Do you know what those women are? Slu…"

"I begged you do not talk to Rose ever again, Mr. Clarkson," interrupted Mary Coldwell, "my daughter's education is my responsibility so I'm going to request you to stop interfering with that."

The woman grabbed her daughter's hand and both went to the kitchen where she was cleaning the windows.

"Did he say something to you, Rosie?"

"No, mom. Nothing important at least."

She couldn't wait to return home to speak with her best friend, Alfie.

Alfie was also ten years old. He knew that after school his neighbour went to her mother's workplace to help her while her younger brother was with their grandmother. But he didn't know that the old man treated Rose bad. He knew her his whole life and as far as he knew, she wasn't very different from other girls he knew from school or the neighborhood.

"We're all whistling that stupid song," he said "how old is he?"

"Old enough to believe that a woman only speaks if a man wants to."

"That's ridiculous. Me mom, she probably can kick his ass if she hears that."

"He's unbearable. Do you want me to help to prank him?" Her childish smile made her friend smile as well.

"Of course, Rosie!"

"Aren't you going to ask me what I planned?"

"I don't care! If he said something to ya, then it's personal!" the boy put a hand on her shoulder "tell us your plan."

Mr. Clarkson had a cockatiel called "Da Vinci". Da Vinci repeated Shakespeare's sonnets that his owner taught him from the moment he acquired him. The bird also knew other phrases in French and some in Latin.

But any bad word.

Alfie hated birds and it wasn't a secret for anyone around him. Everything started seven years ago when a pigeon ate his loaf of bread. And he never forgave it. So Rose knew that he was going to hate Da Vinci, despite being a cute cockatiel. The plan was simple: taught the bird how to swear. To much Mrs. Solomons despair, her son was good at it.

After Mrs. Coldwell warning, Mr. Clarkson didn't speak with the girl again even when he still thought that she needed discipline. He wasn't against physical punishment, if it was necessary, and the Lord knew that she needed to feel it at least once. But he said nothing.

Da Vinci used to spend his afternoons in his cage next to the window, facing the street and enjoying the view of that corner of London. That day, Rose left the window open and threw a pebble out of it to show Alfie, who was waiting on the other side of the street, that he could approach.

"You're awful, mate!" Alfie said poking the cage with his finger "okay, Rosie needs me, right? And you're going to listen to me, bird."

For two weeks after school, for at least an hour, Alfie stood up under that open window to teach the bird his talent.

'Cunt' was the first word that the bird learnt causing a horror expression in his owner's face.

"It was you? Did you teach Da Vinci that word?"

"It wasn't me, sir. Besides, I thought you told me that I couldn't speak until a man allowed me. And there's not another man besides you here, so I didn't speak. Expect to my mommy who clearly told you do not talk to me."

Mr. Clarkson pursed his lips and with his hand told the girl to leave. His poor Da Vinci was being corrupted and he didn't know who it was.

"It was really fun," Rose said later to Alfie while they were doing the homework together. "I think you did it well!"

"I didn't finish, Rosie. I think I'm starting to understand that stupid bird. Maybe you can try, too. Just say fuck you in front of him, the beast learns quickly."

Rose was still a girl and despite what Mr. Clarkson thought, she didn't behaved like a thug. Her mother taught her well and she did learn. And until that moment in her short life she had never said the word fuck. Alfie clearly was, all the time.

By the end of the third week, Da Vinci was Alfie's best student. And his words were a mix of Shakespeare's sonnets and English slang from that century.

The day that Alfie couldn't go to his usually spot under the window, Rose approached the bird with a cookie in her hand.

"Hello, Da Vinci," Rose said.

The cockatiel looked at her. He knew the girl, so he didn't seem to be upset by her presence.

"Hello, hello!" repeated him.

The girl checked that the door was locked and approached the bird knowing that she was going to say it. She felt it in her heart. Mr. Clarkson would suffer a heart attack caused by the indignation, but the girl was ready. So she said it.

"Fuck you!" and she giggled covering her mouth with the hand.

It felt good, not to say it to the bird because she wasn't. But to imagine the man hearing it. So she repeated it several times. After that she gave Da Vinci the cookie and she ran away from there.

"What did you do, Rose?" her mother asked when she saw her daughter.

"Nothing, mum!"

"Rose…"

"I swear! I just gave the cockatiel a cookie," the girl replied. In part was true.

Alfie hugged his friend when he knew the good news. "It wasn't that bad, eh, Rosie? It's fuckin' easy!"

"I feel like an idiot, giggling after that."

"I want to hear it! It's not fair that only the bird heard you! I gave you the idea!"

"I'm not going to say it to you, Al!"

"Oh come on! I know you're not saying it to me! We're friends!"

The girl looked at him and said it. Both kids laughed out loud, Alfie didn't know but he opened a door that Rose never closed again. Swearing was part of her now.

And was part of Da Vinci, too.

It was six in the morning when Mr. Clarkson woke up. His maid already prepared him the breakfast and left the cockatiel on the same table as he was because the man liked to have breakfast with him.

"Would you like a cookie, Da Vinci?" Mr. Clarkson asked.

After few seconds in silence, he spoke.

"Cookie! Cunt! Fuck you! Cookie!"

The man sighed.

He didn't know everything yet. On his favourite chair in the library he had, was the book 'a manual of good behaviour and polite accomplishments' covered by Da Vinci's poop.

Rose left it there with the intention of giving him the answer he asked for.

[emarasmoak]

The Rings of Power showrunners discuss, at length, that huge Sauron reveal

JD Payne: [Vickers] did eventually know. We kept it very close to the vest for a while. He read a monologue from Richard the Third. At certain points he suspected [Halbrand was Sauron], he was putting it all together like, ‘Okay, they're having me read deep English canon villains.’ We didn't tell him from moment one that this was what was happening. We let him discover it.

Patrick McKay: Charlie's amazing and enormously talented. And we were thrilled to get him. He actually read originally for Elrond. But this character was always Sauron. One of the initial sparks and ideas and, in our opinion, right or wrong, a reason to do the entire show, is that Galadriel talks about Sauron in the books in a way that indicates that she knew him really well.

JD Payne: [Quoting Galadriel in Fellowship of the Ring] ‘I perceive the Dark Lord and know his mind, or all of his mind that concerns the Elves, and he gropes ever to see me and my thoughts. But still, the door is shut.’ The idea of ‘still the door is shut’, that he's been reaching after her for a long time, and there's this sense of back and forth between them – we found that endlessly fascinating. And we said, ‘There's an entire history between them. He's not just some eye in the sky, who's looking at it from afar, there's a relationship. And so, how could you have a relationship between the Dark Lord and Galadriel, in a way that lets them get to an interesting place? If she knew it was him from the beginning, obviously she would reject him out of hand, because we know from the legendarium that he was responsible for her brother's death. We know that he has this desire to heal the world, and she has this heroic desire to fix the world. So if we could put them in parallel to each other without exactly knowing who he was, there was an opportunity there.

Patrick McKay: Two other things to add. There’s this whole idea from Tolkien's letters and other writings where he talks about how Sauron wasn't evil in the beginning. Elrond says in the book: ‘Nothing is evil the beginning, even Sauron was not so.’ Immediately, we're thinking about [the TV series] Breaking Bad. We're thinking about Tony Soprano [from The Sopranos], these characters who are these enormous, larger-than-life modern villains, but have this other side. You go back and forth: do I hate them? Do I love them? Are they seducing me? We thought that was really rich terrain. And then, Tolkien had this idea of chance meetings throughout his books – that chance meetings are preordained in Middle Earth. So, what if Sauron is in a place where he's repentant and lost? And Galadriel’s in a place where she's desperate and obsessed. What might happen if they meet? Maybe they'd be friends? Maybe they’d get along? The idea of a non-romantic, cosmic connection seemed so pregnant with possibilities. That was by far the hardest thing that we worked on. We have this idea that, if you watch it again, every single thing he says is not a lie. This isn't like a rug poll. We're not trying to shock people. We want to hopefully reward close viewing if you’re suspicious of him early. That's a whole valid version of the show, we felt.

JD Payne: There’s something in him that is sort of vaguely reminiscent of Gollum, when you watch it again, where you see these two forces driving within him. In some ways, Gollum is to Sauron as Sauron is to Morgoth, a little bit. The One Ring is operative on his consciousness at all times. And even maybe if he tried to turn away from it and be Mairon, the Maiar, who, in the beginning, was good, there's this shadow that has operated upon his soul that he is enslaved to, that you always see, every decision he makes, takes him, in one way, towards the good, but it also takes him towards power. And power is his addiction. Watching back, with that in mind, it's fun to pick apart everything he says, or if he does retreat from the decision he makes.

Source: https://www.gamesradar.com/rings-of-power-sauron-halbrand-episode-8-showrunners

[phil-lesterfan]

What are your thoughts on Squidbob tell me now

HI!!! i know you said now and it's been a few hours but we'll put it up to time zones. anyway, i was thinking about this ask and ultimately it's that quote from dan in that interview, right? "best friends, arch enemies, husbands, business partners, partners in crime, soul mates, just mates, who the fuck knows?"

obviously it's antagonistic, but on spongebob's part, it's unintentional (my knowledge is rusty, and i'm not fully caught up on spongebob, though i've seen a few squidbob moments from more recent eps) and when he does hurt squidward, he genuinely feels bad about it – when he picks up on it, at least. but, like, when squidward says spongebob has hurt his feelings or when it's really obvious, spongebob takes accountability and tries to right his wrong(s). even if that means making the situation worse, lol

AT THE SAME TIME, yes, squidward can really hurt spongebob and even enjoys seeing him hurt, but he understands when things have gone too far, and it seems to me like he doesn't just want to be in spongebob's good books for the sake of his reputation. take "fools in april" for example: squidward really hurts spongebob with his "prank" and it's a very public prank where people make clear their disapproval of his actions. of course, no one wants to be seen as the huge asshole, and squidward even says "it hurts, doesn't it?" to plankton when plankton becomes the most hated thing in bikini bottom. BUT when squidward apologises to spongebob, while he struggles, it's clear he wants to (he just physically can't) and he doesn't know everyone else is at spongebob's house. he genuinely just wants spongebob to like him again. (plus, he finds it humiliating when it's revealed other people are there – clearly, it's not about reputation)

the other obvious one is "dying for pie" where he puts spongebob's life in danger and realises he doesn't want to be responsible for spongebob's death nor does he really want spongebob to die at all.

it's also insanely cute to me that he's, like, as far as i know, the only one who calls spongebob "sponge" – i don't think i've heard any other character refer to spongebob like that . . . except maybe patrick? but i might be confusing it with a – you guessed it – squidbob scene.

also the way squidward's voice goes all soft when he calls "spongebob sponge" :') and how he's protective of spongebob too. like in "pizza delivery", when the customer is rude to spongebob and spongebob sobs, we can infer squidward KNOCKED THE GUY OUT!!!!! and he went back over to spongebob and reassured him that the customer was happy with the order and everything was ok :)

squidward also gets flustered when spongebob compliments him and spongebob likes it when squidward is having fun. i think deep down, they both genuinely care for each other, and they both want the other to be happy, they just have different ideas of happiness and aren't sure how to get them to align. there's really great potential there, and i personally love relationships like theirs where it's just so fucked and they're more prone for divorce but they keep remarrying anyway

sorry for this mostly focussing on squidward . . . spongebob is a bit more complicated to me bc he's a mix of childish and mature and you're never entirely sure when which facet will be more prominent. ultimately though i think they have the potential to balance each other out but still have a good time together (as in, they won't settle right into "BORED old married couple"). when i have more thoughts on spongebob's side of the relationship, i will let you know o7

i know this spawned from the "to be loved is to be changed" post tags, but for squidbob's part i feel i was mostly joking or i probably made a tblitbc comment while watching spongebob with my irl and i've forgotten why, LOL – let me think on it some more and let me watch more of the show, and i'll get back to you on that. :)

[ambrossart]

My question is about Evelyn and her yellow dress, I suppose Evelyn had never dressed that way, right? Why during that episode almost everyone he met noticed his outfit or mentioned it, was it really that exaggerated? (and even if it was, it justifies what happened to her) because it was just a simple dress and makeup and at the beginning of the chapter she felt great and happy with her clothes she was comfortable that made me think but then after arriving at school she started to feeling uncomfortable and Henry mentions that in the dining room there were many eyes looking at her. Was it her perception at that moment or was it really like that? Because it was simply normal, I mean, I suppose there are more girls who would dress like that and put on makeup, for example, Manda or Liz, who are also girls who dress up and also wore outfits to call them sexy in a certain way, nothing is said to them, but Evelyn is He gets attention for that and so much fuss is created.

So why is Evelyn punished so much for it or looked at so much just for wearing a dress when it is something completely normal? She just wanted to feel pretty for once and this happens to her, and also another thing Martin has special for her. I hate Evelyn? It's only with her because he has also raped other girls but with Evelyn I don't know if I can say that it's even worse, I really feel sorry for Evelyn and she feels so insecure with herself and her body and now with what Martin did even worse and the accident with Henry for feeling that she is not attractive enough or not feeling valued as a woman for her body. She is only 15 years old, obviously she is not a little girl but she is a teenager, she is developing and she is growing.

All right, let’s settle the debate about Evelyn’s yellow dress once and for all.

If that dress was actually slutty or inappropriate in any way, I promise you Steph Price would have had something to say about it. Greta Bowie would have had something to say about it. Liz Mueller would have had something to say about it. In fact, Liz probably would have pulled Evelyn aside and very nicely told her that she’s dressed like a sleazy tramp and that everyone in school’s talking about it. Then she’d offer to go grab her a change of clothes or something.

But that didn’t happen. Because there was nothing wrong with Evelyn’s dress. Was it a bold look for her? Yes, but that’s just because Evelyn usually dresses… modestly? professionally? Those aren’t the right words, so I’ll let the text speak for itself:

When Henry first saw her, he had to do a double-take. Images flashed through his head like reels on a View-Master: Evelyn in knit sweaters and sweater vests, in striped tees and light-wash jeans, in baggy spring overalls and puffy winter coats, with mittens, scarves, and stocking caps, because she didn't care how dorky she looked when she was trying to stay warm. Henry tried to reconcile those images with the new image in front of him, of Evelyn with big hair and a full face of makeup, in a short yellow dress with a flouncy little skirt that went whoosh-whoosh every time she moved her hips (and she had hips now—the dress made that more apparent than ever), but he couldn't reconcile them at all.

Evelyn’s typical style is practical. It’s functional. It’s comfortable. But on that day, just that day, she wanted to dress differently. She wanted people to see her differently. Not as the annoying student council girl. Not as Little Miss Goodie-Two-Shoes Tozier. For that one day, Evelyn wanted to feel like all the other girls. She wanted to feel pretty and feminine and, yes, maybe even a little sexy. And that’s totally okay. Evelyn’s fifteen, not five. She’s allowed to freely express and explore her sexuality—as long as it’s done in a safe and tasteful way, of course. And it was! It really was! Evelyn even wore stockings, for goodness sake (much to Patrick’s disappointment).

In short, nobody thought that dress was inappropriate. Nobody. Not the girls. Not even the boys. They all thought she looked very pretty. That’s it.

The only people who had a problem with it are toxic, women-hating assholes like Martin and… unfortunately… Henry, but with Henry it’s a little more complicated.

At this point, Henry’s struggling with his growing sexual attraction to Evelyn. By now, we all know what happened before freshmen-year finals (and if you don’t know, stop reading this before you get even more spoiled) and Henry’s still very much dealing with that.

Now it’s his first day back from suspension and Evelyn is dressed… not like Evelyn, something that Henry notices right away. And he has two reactions to this: first he gets a little aroused (whoops) and then he gets very angry and territorial.

If he’s having this response to her, what are the other guys thinking? Are they noticing her, too?

Henry doesn’t want other guys noticing Evelyn. He doesn’t want other guys looking at her or thinking about her in that way. Hands off, everyone. She’s taken.

So to answer your question—

Were all the boys staring at Evelyn in the lunchroom? No, nobody was looking at her. That was just Henry being hypersensitive and letting his dad’s bullshit get into his head.

Henry was in a very vulnerable headspace at that moment. He’s back in school. Feeling completely out of place. The girl who sexually assaulted him is sitting a few tables away. (That alone is messing with his head.) He sees Patrick groping Evelyn (wtf?). She’s letting him (WTF?). She’s wearing that damn dress.

What is going on right now? What happened while he was suspended?

Henry just started panicking. It’s really that simple.

Now Martin… yeah, that guy’s just a dick. He hates Evelyn and everything she stands for. Ever since they were kids, she’s been sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong, and Martin has been waiting for the perfect opportunity to teach her a lesson.

He sees Evelyn hanging out in the senior locker area. Sees her wearing that yellow dress.

Martin knew exactly what she was doing by wearing that dress. So he took that very innocent intention, twisted it into something shameful and ugly, and he weaponized it against her.

Martin assaulting Evelyn wasn’t about sex and it wasn’t even a rape. It was about making her feel small and worthless. And Henry showing up when he did was just the mother of all bad timings.

“See, Tozier? No one’s interested.”

I don’t think Martin realizes just how effective and painful that lesson was for her.

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

So, I weirdly haven’t written enough about this on this blog so far, given what a big thing it is for me – I’m going to the fucking UK this summer. For real this time. For real. Here is a post about it.

I first posted on this blog about wanting to go to the UK in early 2021, I think. I remember making posts about how maybe once the vaccines were finally released, and I was all vaccinated, travel would be safe, and I could go for a little while before I start my college courses again. That didn’t happen for quite a few reasons.

I spent much of 2021 planning a hypothetical trip, knowing it probably couldn’t really happen, because obviously things like this don’t really happen, but I needed something to fantasize about in the depths of lockdown. It’s odd that a global pandemic made me interested in international travel for the first time. Pre-COVID, my life was so full of a single sport that I didn’t really have time to think about anything else as a hobby. I was on the road most weekends, but that road was the 401, driving off to the same few cities anywhere from two to twelve hours away, to sleep in a cheap hotel or on someone’s gym floor and then shout at teenagers at day and immediately drive home. Every once in a while we’d go to a tournament in the States, which counted as exciting international travel. The idea of actually seeing places that are not in or near the border with my country just hadn’t occurred to me.

Then the world ended, I fell deep into the Britcom rabbit hole, all that stuff. And in 2021, I got really into 1) memorizing how to label all the countries and major cities in the world, and all the counties or other regional areas in the UK and Ireland, on a blank map, because I’d learned that the larger world existed and I wanted to be clear about where it all is, and 2) going through places I’ve never been on Google Earth, usually while listening to audio comedy. I also took to looking up things to do in the UK on Trip Advisor, mapping the route on Google Maps and following it on Google Earth, knowing this was all for a hypothetical fantasy trip but still researching things like train fares and schedules because it was more fun if it felt like it could be real.

I’m fascinated by the idea of places that are Different From Here being actual real physical places where people could actually go. Which is especially weird in this case because I actually have been to the UK. I have a godmother there, whom I’ve met in person three times, twice when she’s come to Canada and once when for my sixteenth birthday she paid for my mother and I to go to England for a week. We stayed at her place in London, did all the tourist-y things, also spent a day in some spot in Somerset but I’m fuzzy on where or why, it was 2006. My clearest memory of the week is seeing Spamalot on St. Patrick’s Day and thinking it was the coolest thing ever. I’ve also got fairly clear memories of climbing stairs at St. Paul’s Cathedral, thinking Westminster Abbey was the most beautiful building I’d ever seen, and seeing some extremely cool stuff at the British Library including some original handwritten Beatles lyrics. And I remember the tube and being impressed that the cars really do have driver doors on the wrong side, that’s not just a thing they made up on Fawlty Towers.

Still, it was so long ago, and it was such a short time compared to the amount of time that I’ve spent watching Britian on TV, that it does feel a bit like Britain is a fictional place that exists on TV. Obviously I realize that’s a very ignorant North American thing for me to say, and in my defense I think I know a hell of a lot more about Britain than the average ignorant North American. I can label all the regions in England, Scotland, Ireland, and Wales in under five minutes. But I’ve got to admit, on a visceral level, learning all that stuff does feel a bit like memorizing lore in a fantasy novel.

There is kind of an appeal in the idea that… okay, the last time I was this obsessed with something besides a sport in which I actually participated, I was a kid in the Harry Potter fandom. I was a kid who read a lot of books, and a lot of my favourites happened to be British fantasy or sci-fi novels (Harry Potter, CS Lewis, Tolkein, His Dark Materials, Douglas Adams), but Harry Potter was the one that took over my life from the ages of about ten to fourteen. You classic situation of – didn’t have friends in real life, all my social interaction came from Harry Potter message boards, a vast chunk of my free time dedicated to reading every passage of the books over and over and over and analyzing them and writing things about them and I made some friends on the internet who loved Luna Lovegood as much as I did. Then I got to high school and started wrestling and made some friends in real life and slowly moved away from online fandom, didn’t do anything except that for fifteen years, then the world ended, I came back and found a new online fandom that was also British but had less magic and more panel shows, then the author turned out to be a terrible person and ruined my childhood.

Anyway. The point is that I remember when I was a kid, obviously I spent ages fantasizing about being able to actually go to all those places in Harry Potter. But I couldn’t, because those are not real places. Well, my new foray into fandom also feels a bit like that – like this fictional thing I’ve got obsessed with that no one around me knows anything about but some people on the internet are into it. Except that this time, the place where all these things happen is actually a real place, and I can pay money to go there. This concept remains amazing to me.

So I mapped out the idea of this trip a couple of years ago, and for a long time, it stayed in a limbo between fantasy and genuine possibility. I did actually start working out budgets and putting money aside for it, but all the while thinking this won’t actually work. I was starting to do things post-lockdown again, the sense that we were all locked down so nothing is real so I may as well engaged in some escapism and plan some fantasy trips – that started to give way to regular life, and in regular life, I’m not a person who does shit like that. I can’t just fly across the ocean to see a fictional place. I still had it vaguely in my head that maybe someday I’d like to, but I stopped actively planning anything.

But at the same time, the whole concept of Britain was starting to feel a bit less fictional (I’m… I’m feeling the need to clarify, again, that this is just a sort of emotional automatic response to put “the place where Britcom happens” in the “fictional” category in my brain… I did not at any point genuinely think the United Kingdom was fictional… especially since I’ve been there before). I do remember the first time I got physical, tangible proof that the people in the fictional Britcom world are real, when Russell Howard came to my city in March 2022 (my then-girlfriend got us tickets because she knew I liked British comedians, she was excited about it so I didn’t tell her that actually I’m mad at him for the Jordan Peterson apologism so don’t want to go, it’s not something I’d have chosen myself but it was a thoughtful gift and to be fair an extremely fun night), and I could not get over the idea that the man from the fictional place was here in real life displacing air like he’s a real human being and actually all of it is physically real. Over the next few months I did an 8.5-hour drive to New York City to see Nish Kumar, and then two months later a 2-hour drive to see him do the same show in Montreal, because it was that fucking great a show. I also saw James Acaster in Montreal, and a club night with Dara O’Briain and Fern Brady and Phil Wang and Tom Allen and Sindhu Vee and every single one of them was an actual real person breathing the same air as me. Before the show I saw Dara O’Briain on the street and was so shocked that I hit my mother too hard to show her and she jumped and the commotion attracted his attention and I didn’t know what to do except stare at him like he was a zoo animal until he smiled awkwardly at me and went on his way.

Things like this did rather renew my interest in a trip, not just for the novelty of seeing a place that feels fictional, but for the more practical purposes of seeing my favourite comedians live. My interests within Britcom were starting to shift significantly toward stand-up, I got obsessed for a while with learning everything about the history of the Edinburgh Festival in the 21st Century, it seemed like another world, the time of the Chocolate Milk Gang and 24-hour shows from the early 00s, but then I watched videos on the internet that were filmed at the 2022 Edinburgh Festival and realized this place is actually real and still happening now and it is technically possible to go there.

After that, the concept rapidly became de-fictionalized in my mind when I sent someone a message on a comedy forum, in the hopes of finding a few comedy recordings that I heard existed, and by complete coincidence stumbled upon the best person I possibly could have. I’d thought worst case scenario is he doesn’t reply and I will be left to assume he saw my message and considered it horribly rude, great scenario is he has a few things I’m asking for, amazing best case scenario is maybe he has lots of stuff and is willing to share. As it happened, I got the best case scenario, plus far more than that. Specifically, a the coolest fucking person I could possibly have found, as a new friend, direct interaction that made all of this seem a hell of a lot less fictional very, very fast. He said things like “So are you ever going to come out here and actually see this stuff yourself”, and I said things like “Obviously I have plotted a route and looked up train fares but don’t be silly, that was just the stuff of lockdown-induced dreams.”

I quickly started planning things more seriously, but at the same time, the editing work I’d been doing started drying up, I had a bit of a financial crisis where I became concerned that I’d be unable to pay rent, and couldn’t save for a trip. I followed the 2023 Edinburgh Festival from afar, from NextUp streams and hearing stories about it from a friend who actually went there and sent me pictures, which was so fucking cool, and it was all so very very real.

I got a new job, this one much harder because it involves leaving the house all day for five days a week, but also it’s much more stable than the editing work I did for all of lockdowns, and I was able to start saving money in the second half of 2023. I learned that the place where I work shuts down for the last week of July, and the Monday of the following week is a holiday. So I put in a request for just four days off, the Tuesday-Friday, to create a two-week holiday. One week in London at the end of July, and one week in Edinburgh during the first week of the Edinburgh Festival.

The time off got approved (barely, I was told I can’t book any other vacation time in 2024, but I got it) in late 2023, and it was so exciting, and that’s the first time it started to feel even a little bit real. Then I booked an Air B&B for the week in Edinburgh, because it’s my understanding that accommodation availability and prices are a huge issue there and you want to book early. I think I did well, though. Found a place that’s not cheap but not unfeasibly expensive, I can have my own room and it’s a 50-minute walk or 10-minute bus from Edinburgh city centre. It was so exciting to book the place, put some money down, finally have something on the books for sure. Though I did triple check that it’s fully refundable if I cancel up until pretty much the day before, just in case something goes wrong.

I booked the flights over Christmas. They weren’t cheap, but I was able to afford them without destroying my ability to pay rent, because it turns out there is a reason why I put myself through human interaction for 8-10 hours five days a week. I did pay an extra fee to give myself the ability to pay another fee and cancel them, because still, it felt like I can’t be totally sure this will actually work. But that was a big commitment.

And that’s pretty well the main things sorted out. I still have to book a whole lot of train tickets, but I have the flights. I have the time off work. I have the Edinburgh accommodation. I have accommodation in London, because the absolute coolest person I could possibly come across on a comedy message board has a spare room, and is extremely kind and generous with his time and space, and I’ve said some pretty disparaging things about that message board before (based on some quite bad threads from like fifteen years ago, that I spent weeks reading in their entirety because, you know, autism), and I would like to take them all back.

Now they’ve announced the first bunch of acts at the 2024 Edinburgh Festival, and I’ve been going through picking out which ones look most interesting to me, and for maybe the first time, it’s finally feeling completely, entirely real. This is happening. For real this time. I am going through an Edinburgh Festival catalogue not just to take screenshots of the most interesting blurbs so I can save them in a folder and/or post them on my blog to say here’s an interesting piece of history. I am going through it to pick what shows I wish to see.

So here’s my plan, that I’m writing because I now feel confident that I think it’s actually going to happen. Obviously I have a spreadsheet with various tabs, and a KMZ file so I can open Google Earth with all the places I might potentially want to see already marked. I have been planning this trip for years. I have two weeks in the UK, and I don’t want to waste a single second. I want to make sure all that time spent planning comes to something, because as a fundamental part of my personality, I have always believed that there is a level of planning you can do to guarantee that everything goes right. This belief has been proven wrong time and time again, but I’ve never tried something with this much planning beforehand, so surely this time it’ll work. No taking a chance on some tourist attraction that might turn out to be shit, because I’ll have looked at it all on Google Earth beforehand and ranked things in order of how cool they look.

I have organized my spreadsheet into seven tabs: overview, plan by day, places to eat, things to see London, in Edinburgh, in Cambridge, and things to pack. I have organized each “things to see” tab into three sections: things I want to see for reasons related to general tourism, things I want to see for reasons related to comedy, and things I want to see for reasons related to Harry Potter. I apologize for the latter, and obviously I will not be doing anything that would give revenue to JK Rowling. But nothing JK Rowling can say in the 2020s will change my childhood, and I need to spend some amount of time indulging my childhood dreams of running around fancy buildings feeling like I’m in a magical British land.

London, tourism: pretty straightforward. Westminster Abbey and St. Paul’s Cathedral are on the list, because I remember how cool they were last time, and because for some reason when I stopped being Christian at age 16 I did not also get rid of my awe at fancy churches. I want to see Parliament and related areas, I want to try to get a picture of the Number 10 door as seen in Yes Minister. I want to see some bridges. Take a cable car across a river. Go look at Douglas Adams in Highgate Cemetery (I realize there are more famous people than Douglas Adams there, I’d like to see them too, but mainly Douglas Adams). Go see what The British Library has going on while I’m there. There are too many pubs on the list given the fact that I’m currently trying to stop drinking, I am going to cut some of those pubs off the list and I’m just trying to decide which ones, but I really love a good pub and the ones in London look so cool and even if I can’t have a pint I want to sit there in the atmosphere and have a burger or some shit.

Harry Potter tour of London is simple. Obviously I want to go look at King’s Cross Station, I did it when I was 16 and it was so fucking cool, I don’t care how stupid that is. Otherwise, I’ve looked up three different areas that were used in filming Diagon Alley, and according to Google Earth, seem like the do sort of look like Diagon Alley-like places. That’s what’s interesting to me. I’m not really interested in places where the movies just happened to be filmed (the movies were fine, I’ve seen them a couple of times each, but it was the books that I read until I had them nearly memorized), I want to see places that look like they could be where the books were actually set. And Goodwin’s Court appears to look like where Harry Potter could have actually been set. So I’ve made an appointment to go walk down a road.

For the comedy-related locations in London, there are a few venues I want to see. Ideally while something’s playing in them, but even if there’s nothing I’m interested in at the Soho Theatre while I’m there, I’d still want to go in and just see the building, after the all the shows I’ve seen and heard that were recorded there. Same with The Bill Murray. Battersea Arts Centre. I also wish to make a pilgrimage to the bit of Regent’s Park where Daniel Kitson’s done some of the most landmark nights of comedy in the last twenty years. Obviously I want to go stand outside the gates to the Taskmaster house and see just how close it is to that golf course. (There will also be a few hours of the itinerary where I might just leave some of the details blank, no need to get too much into what I want to see there, it’s in my spreadsheet as just “Crystal Palace”, and I will say that if you don’t want people to go look at a place where you used to live, don’t make your address the title of your theatre show – I need to stress again, just so we’re clear about what level of creepiness I’m talking about here, it is a former address, not anywhere that anyone significant lives now or has lived for the last fifteen years, it's just the subject of comedy stories that are now long in the past, as are various surrounding landmarks, it’s archaeology.)

Now, in Edinburgh I’ve put a lot fewer things on the itinerary, because I want to leave most of my time for going to see comedy shows. And going to see a couple of music shows, because that first wave of events they’ve announced includes a couple of traditional Scottish music things that I am so excited about, it’s going to be mostly comedy but I do want to do that as well. Celtic music, Harry Potter, British comedy – all the biggest special interests of my life besides the one where you beat people up, all easy to access at this festival (I mean, technically Edinburgh has something called wrestling too, but it’s best if I don’t hear anyone try to compare the Max + Ivan wrestling to the sport that I do).

I do want to climb Arthur’s Seat, because I’ve done it about a hundred times in Google Earth so I just have to do it in real life. When Mark Watson released his book last year, I got the signed and dedicated version and he said we can tell him about a problem we have for him to solve in the dedication. I said my problem is I’m going to London and Edinburgh next year and need advice on where to go, he said I should climb Scott’s Monument. Even though my levels of respect for Mark Watson have dropped significantly since that book actually came out, I am still going to climb Scott’s Monument because Mark Watson told me to.

Similarly, this extremely kind and cool person I know recently got the chance to get me an autographed copy of Tim Key’s new book (which I unfortunately won’t get until I go to London and pick it up in person, but it looks great), where he also asked Tim to give me some advice for my trip. Tim Key said to go to Mosque Kitchen, and Indian restaurant in Edinburgh, so I’m doing that. Oh, and while I’m in London I have to go to a place called Kebab Kid, because it’s Nish Kumar’s favourite shawarma place in England, which I know because I know a guy who could just walk up to Nish Kumar after one of his gigs and ask him what his favourite shawarma place is. Have I mentioned how fucking cool this is?

Anyway. That’s the extent of my interest in Edinburgh tourism, mainly. I mean, if I were going when the festival weren’t on, there would be plenty of other stuff I want to see. But I don’t want to take time away from festival events. I might do the castle. The castle’s probably cool. I definitely want to walk up that hill, as I’ve done many times on Google Earth, and look at the castle. Whether I pay to go inside will depend if there’s a hole in the comedy schedule, I guess.

In the Edinburgh – Harry Potter section, I have a few things. Greyfriar’s Kirkyard, the graveyard with the story about the dog that’s probably bullshit (I mean, it happened, but I think someone was just feeding that dog) but the story about how it inspired Harry Potter character names that’s true. Go get a picture of Tom Riddle’s grave. I’ve marked a couple of streets and a couple of buildings that look particularly like they could be from Harry Potter, those are on the list of places to walk. There’s a Harry Potter store that I want to go in and look through the stuff because the interior seems really cool, but I promise I would never spend money in there.

And then Edinburgh – comedy will probably take care of itself. I want to see The Stand and The Gilded Balloon, as the sites of many of my favourite comedy events over the last twenty years. But I’m hoping I’ll end up in those places anyway to see shows, so no need to make a special trip. If not, though, I’m making a special trip. I have to see the stage where the cow got torn apart. I absolutely have to go see it in person.

There is also the Cambridge tab, because I have blocked off one of my London days to take a train to Cambridge and back. I have made a Google Earth document with about 20 of the most interesting-seeming colleges marked. Obviously I’m not going to see 20 colleges, I’m going to look at them all in Google Earth and then rank them by how cool they look and go see as many as I can in order. I have also, of course, marked down which ones let you take tours and at what times. The place I’m most excited to see is the Wren Library, which appears to be a library from Harry Potter or His Dark Materials or something. I want to see Trinity College because it’s the college on which Douglas Adams based the college in the first Dirk Gently book. A few of the colleges have chapels that look really pretty and are interesting to me because I have for some reason not lost my awe of pretty churches. And mainly, I just want to walk around the Cambridge University grounds looking at stuff.

Oh, and we’re leaving another day to take a train to Kent, where they have an archive of stand-up comedy materials that I wish to see. But I haven’t made a tab for that, because I just want to see some stuff in the University of Kent and then go back to London.

I am also hoping I can block out one day from the Edinburgh week to not book any shows, and just take trains around Scotland. I have always wanted to take trains around Scotland. I have always romanticized trains, I have always romanticized Scotland, taking a train through rural parts of Scotland will make me feel like I’m on the Hogwarts Express, it’s everything my over-romanticizing heart fantasized about when imagining this trip. I’ve checked, and while it would be an incredibly long day, it is possible to take a train from Edinburgh to Mallaig in the morning, have a couple of hours in Mallaig, and take another train back at night. This would take me, twice, through something that’s supposed to be one of the most beautiful train journeys in the world, from Glasgow to Mallaig. Mallaig is a tiny village on the West Coast of Scotland and it’s got a hiking trail and a pub and I just want to take a train across a country and walk around the trail and then sit in that pub and look at the ocean. I want that so badly. It’s been a rough couple of months, I find it hard to spend 8 to 10 hours a day interacting with other people, the thought that one day in early August I might spend one hour sitting in a pub in Mallaig looking at the ocean is really getting me the through the day at this point. There are a few pubs in Mallaig, but obviously I’ve picked out my favourite. I want to eat seafood. I love seafood. That’s not just a Mallaig thing, seafood is my favourite food and I always eat lots of it when I visit the East Coast of Canada because it’s better near the ocean. All of Britain is near the ocean, so I want to eat all their seafood.

Okay, that’s the plan. I was going to write about what I’m thinking in terms of actual shows to see, but I might let that turn into a different post. Right now, I’m just excited about the idea of posting this on the internet because it is real and I am actually going to do it and having this to look forward to is way too big a proportion of my motivation at this point in my life.

[danielfeketewrites]

DOCTOR WHO TOP 10 - 2nd Doctor

Ah, my fave Doctor. My 10 favourite stories with him. Keep reading!

10. The Land of the Blind

A nice comic book with a cool twist. I dunno, as a fan of 8th Doctor's DWM run, I have a soft spot for Scott Gray's Doctor Who.

9. The Abominable Snowmen

I really like The Abominable Snowmen. Heck, I think it's a lot more interesting story than The Web of Fear. The setting, the characters, the atmosphere... It all just really works. The Intelligence is a wonderful villain and the Yetis are really cuddly.

8. The Bringer of Darkness

Admission: I'm not a big fan of Fury. I get why everyone likes it, but I just can't get behind how it treats Victoria. While it's admittedly at least "her last story" (something not really afforded to characters like Dodo, Polly, or Ben), but the way she suddenly decides to quit si very... sudden.

This story is short and simple, but manages to do the heavy lifting of "when did Victoria start realising that she doesn't actually want to travel with the Doctor" and... it's really good. I like it very much.

7. The Power of the Daleks

Another admission time - while the animation is great, I might prefer the Loose Cannon reconstruction on this one, as it feels more atmospheric.

But both of these versions are amazing. The David Whitaker Dalek stories just hit differently.

6. The Moonbase

In my bachelor's degree dissertation, I wrote that The Moonbase is the quintessential Base Under Siege story. I stand by that. It's amazing, fun, an upgrade on The Tenth Planet... And it basically invents the Patrick Troughton era. Did I mention how fun it is? Obviously, I have a soft spot for it.

Also, it has the best animation.

5. The Mind Robber

When I first watched The Mind Robber, I didn't get. I didn't get why everyone likes it so much.

I rewatched it a few months ago and fucking loved it. It's funny, creative, inventive... It's such a wonderful, unique story. I love the shit out of it.

4. The Enemy of the World

This story fucks. In the season full of monsters, David Whitaker had the balls to go "you know, what if we just had a dictator that looks exactly like Dr Who? would that be fucked up or what?"

I love David Whitaker. I love Patrick Troughton. I love this serial.

3. The Evil of the Daleks

By this point, I'm not sure what to say about this. I praised Whitaker's Dalek stories overall in the bit about The Power, sooo... What now? Well, I can add that this is the perfect ending for the Daleks, their perfect finale. It's such a rich, wonderful story.

(I haven't seen the animation yet and I'm kinda afraid of it. I hope it doesn't lose the visceral atmosphere that the reconstruction has for me.)

2. Daughter of the Gods

One of the best Big Finish audios of the past decade. You could even argue that it's THE best one.

I fucking love how well this is done. Like, it could have been a vapid, shallow crossover... But it's not. It's built in such a clever way and the focus on Katarina was a stroke of genius. I love it to bits.

1. The War Games

As a pick for my number one Troughton story, it's a bit basic, innit?

Can't help myself. I love The War Games so goddamn much. Watched all of it in one sitting, breathless. It's amazing. People sometimes say "oh, the last episode is good, but the nine episodes before that not so much" - and those people are wrong. This is an increadible epic and probably my favourite thing the series did in the 60s.

I promise my other best story picks aren't that mundane! I promise! They are weird and unusual! I swear!

[dinoplantsghost]

pairing: Tom Riddle x fem! original character

warning(s): tom is a warning in itself, 1940s: time-accurate prejudice, one or two racist comment(s) and mention of n@z!s, teenage behavior: drama and language, mention of Walpurgisnacht and Christianity, there's probably more but idk

word count: ~4515

Disclaimer: I have a huge google doc that holds all of my drafts and I'm quite literally just copypasting everything, so if there are any typos/errors, no there isn't!! :)

-- okay now this one kind of eats, I just skimmed through it and I lowkey forgot I wrote this

Chapter List

The Knights of Walpurgis [7]

13:15 - Wednesday 18th

Tracy had bumped into Saoirse during their shared free period before lunch, his lips not in their usual smile when he dragged her off campus to a bench near the Black Lake. 

He was concerned about his friends—or ‘their’ friends, as he had phrased it. For once, Saoirse understood what it was like to “be in the know” and be part of a unit of people. 

“I tried talking to Ava,” he sighed. “But she gets all emotional whenever I bring it up; I just want to understand what happened, but I guess I get why she doesn’t want to tell me. Maybe it was bad or something.” 

“Griffin was telling me something about it after the first Quidditch match, although very vaguely. He was mostly talking to himself, it seemed like.” 

“Really? I’m surprised, considering how much he didn’t like you when I first introduced you to each other.” Tracy leaned back, his brows furrowed as a hand reached up to pinch at his delicate skin. “What did he say?” 

Saoirse shrugged. “In all honesty, I wasn’t paying attention; I’m not used to comforting people and he was too busy crying to really say anything interesting or important.”

Despite her insistence that she didn’t remember much, Saoirse went into detail about how Eugene had wept over Ava-Lynn and how she “broke his heart.” She always took the opportunity to talk her mouth off. 

Tracy, usually thirsty for drama and all of its wondrous theatrical moments, paused. “Eugene and Ava? Together? I don’t believe it,” he huffed. “Ava’s a great person with strong morals. And I mean, Eugene is my friend and all, but…” 

Saoirse shrugged once more. He clearly knew them better than her and yet he was just as confused.

The boy shook his head, his shaggy hair hitting his cheeks as he rubbed his eyelids. “Thanks for telling me. I don’t think Ava would have told me that even if I threatened her; I would be embarrassed too. But also, there’s something else I needed to talk to you about.”  Tracy pulled his legs up, sitting tailor-fashioned on the bench, smearing mud and grass on his trousers. “You know we share Defense classes, right,” he asked. “Because I’ve seen you hanging out with those guys lately—the ones from Slytherin. If you were smarter, you’d stop talking to them.” 

Saoirse frowned. “That’s exactly what Patrick said about you and Griffin the other day. He said any friend of Griffin’s isn’t good.” 

“Well, that nerd is a hypocrite,” he scoffed. “Every one of his friends, including him, is a no good, snotty, rich boy raised on outdated ideals. They’re no better than the Nazis we hear about from the Muggle war.” 

Well, he wasn’t wrong about that, she thought. 

“But Patrick is really nice,” she argued. “He told me that he hates the Sacred Twenty-Eight; he wants nothing more than to be on his own when he finishes school.” 

“He’s obviously lying. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, as they say.” 

“What do you mean? What apple?” 

“Nevermind,” he groaned. Tracy stood from the bench, doing nothing to wipe off the grim from his uniform. “Forget what I said; it’s an idiom you don’t get yet. But either way, don’t come running to me when that group decides to throw you to the side, Saoirse.” 

It was not until lunchtime did Tracy try to talk to Saoirse again. After their conversation at the bench, the boy left in frustration since she did not understand why he disliked Patick when he had Eugene Griffin as a friend. In her eyes, he had no right telling her who to be around when that Hufflepuff student was clearly just as bad. 

When lunch rolled around, she didn’t entertain his attempts at conversation because she was too busy scratching at arithmancy work that was due within the next hour or so. Saoirse wasn’t horrible at mathematics, per se; it’s the way symbols and numbers danced around on the tree pulp that annoyed her. Mahoutokoro had a different way of calculating things, and Arithmancy was completely separate from what she was formally taught from a young age. Saoirse still had a hard time handling a quill, and her handwriting needed to be small so each equation could fit nicely on the same page. Her eyes also strained if she looked at her work for too long, which is one of many reasons she was currently sitting at the Ravenclaw lunch table alone, her back curled over as she scribbled away slowly. With each snag her quill hit on the parchment and each ink bubble that burst and melted into her skin, she felt closer to committing another murder. Maybe it would be better if it was her that was dying this time around. 

Luckily, she was able to finish the assignment in time. Arithmancy class always went by faster than her brain processing every little thing she wrote. By the time she was out of the classroom and following her peers down the hall like a school of fish, her thumb had difficulty flexing and stretching out her fingers did not get rid of the tense feeling in her hand. 

As she walked into Merrythought’s classroom, Saoirse pinched the bridge of her nose to numb the throbbing pain in her head as she plopped down next to Patrick, who fortunately recovered just fine after the start of the month. 

“Are you alright,” he asked. “You’re pinching your nose again.” 

He dug around in his satchel, pulling out a small glass container with clumpy circles of brown. The boy gave one to Saoirse, a thin layer of sugar melting from the warmth of her palm. “My family gets these Godiva treats every time we visit Belgium,” he explained. “We’re not supposed to do this at school, but I infuse the share I get with soothing elixirs I make in my spare time. I have this thing called astigmatism, so I get headaches and migraines often.” 

She took a small bite, her front teeth sore from the sweet’s brittleness. “It’s very sweet,” she muttered. “Almost too sweet…”

Patrick blushed, embarrassed that Saoirse didn’t like it. “Oh, well, you don’t have to eat it all! I’m sorry you don’t like it!”

She waved a hand. “No, I will,” she replied. “I’m just not used to it. I like it.” 

As the girl took another bite, she was unaware of the smear of crumbs on the corner of her mouth. Without another thought, Patrick cupped her cheek, flicking flecks of almond and caramelized sugar. 

Eloise, along with the other Knights, made a noise of discomfort. “Get a room,” he whined. “No one wants to see that, Patrick.” 

The Austrian boy froze, pulling his touch away from Saoirse’s cheek dusted in pink and red.  “Sorry…”

───────────

The Transfiguration Professor was odd. In her mind, he resembled the many (old as fuck) men she saw in Japan, though he was not nearly as old. He always wore lavender robes, and insisted on speaking in a way that drove her to insanity. Albus Dumbledore, the Head of the Gryffindor House, always spoke softly. He spoke so delicately, in fact, that his breath would slip through the little gap in his front teeth, causing his speech to have a whistle throughout. It sounded like a fork dragging against a porcelain plate, a sound she only recently discovered her first night in the Great Hall. 

When Dumbledore asked Saoirse to speak to him during her free time after Defense Against the Dark Arts, she wanted to bang her head against a desk. She had heard stories about him from Merrythought. He had a male lover that he was enemies with, apparently. 

“I hope Hogwarts has been to your liking,” the old man said. “I’m sure your former school was very enchanting. I’ve always wanted to visit Mahoutokoro, you see.” 

“Hogwarts has been very kind to me, sir, much better than Mahoutokoro.” 

“Wonderful! It’s always good to see the positive in every change and shift in life, after all. Now, how are you doing socially? Any friends? Like that Mayfield boy, Tracy.” 

“I’m not that close to Mayfield. I would consider him more of an acquaintance; I believe that is the word.”

Dumbledore hummed, his eyes twinkling as he fiddled with his beard. “I see…Are you having trouble finding eagles to group with, dear?”

Saoirse shook her head. “No, sir, I just find myself around Patrick Nott and his group more often.” 

The man sighed. He plucked his eyewear from his wobbling nose, wiping the grime off with a smooth cloth. “Saoirse, dear, the reason I have pulled you aside is because I am worried,” he frowned. “And while you are an eagle rather than a lion, it is my duty as an adult and a teacher to make sure every student is doing well. Now, I say this out of the concern from your friend—no, your acquaintance, as you referred to him. Mister Mayfield only wants the best for you, as do I.” 

Saoirse’s brows furrowed. “I beg your pardon?”

“Mister Mayfield has told me of the group you surround yourself with, Saoirse, and with my own eyes I can say with a full heart that these boys will give you nothing but trouble.” 

He leaned against his desk, clasping his hands as he stared at the Japanese girl with a sorrowful expression. “I fear Saoirse, amongst that group of Slytherins, is a boy who is too dark, too far into his ambitions to be deemed safe. He is dangerous. Any involvement with him will throw you off a path of light and good.” 

The girl craned her neck. She was sure her face was stuck with her lip pulling at the corner, her eyes darting around to avoid the old man’s gaze. “Professor,” she laughed. “I can assure you that none of them are ‘dangerous.’ They’re teenage boys that are driven by hormones, food, and sports.” 

“No,” Dumbledore argued. “You’re not understanding, Saoirse. Amongst those boys is a tortured soul, one that cannot be healed or fixed by any means. Mister Mayfield came to me in hopes that you would realize the dangers these Slytherins put you in.” 

Saoirse crossed her arms, scoffing. Mayfield was hardly any character to throw his opinion into her life. “With all due respect sir, I barely know Mayfield and he barely knows those boys. Patrick and his friends are nothing but dumb airheads, especially that Riddle kid; he drives me insane.” 

“In what way?”

“That boy needs to be humbled,” she sighed. “He’s brash. He thinks he has this authority over everyone. He’s really not all that.” 

“Would you care to elaborate,” Dumbledore pushed. “While Tom is destined for greatness, that is for sure, the boy is very troubled.” 

The girl was silent, her jaw tensing in thought. “I’m sorry, sir,” she drawled. “I hardly think it’s my place to speak of Riddle’s issues, especially when I couldn’t care any less.” Saoirse stood from her chair, letting the legs scratch against the wooden floor of the man’s office. “Now if you’d excuse me, I’d like to enjoy my free time before History of Magic.” 

Ignoring Dumbledore’s demanding gaze, Saoirse’s legs took a stride out of his office and away from his classroom. She glided through each hallway, twisting and turning each corner as her mind honed in on the plans forming in her head. 

She had every reason to stick by those boys in green, to keep an eye on that sick fuck who took his “friends” for granted. It wasn’t hard to see how the others were strangled around his finger. Considering Rosier’s speech the night she was informed of their little club, it only confirmed the rumors she had heard, most of them from Mayfield. And while she never had friends before, it wasn’t rocket science to have basic human decency. 

But she was curious, so fucking curious as to why Riddle seemed to have put it upon himself to carry the burdens of an entire aristocratic group of blue bloods. According to Patrick, Riddle was never a name within the Sacred Twenty-Eight. He was a nobody, to put it simply. Yet somehow, by some miracle, he was at the center of some of Europe’s powerful heirs of their generation. 

There was darkness in the boy; that was something she could agree on with Dumbledore. During her spar in Merrythought’s classroom, Riddle was cold and calculated, but he was easily aggravated—”trigger happy” is what Patrick called it. Riddle gets jealous whenever the spotlight trails off him, causing a controlled temper tantrum of sorts in order to regain his title as the model student. 

It didn’t take long for her feet to drag all the way to the Slytherin dungeons. The password slipped past her lips, and she ignored the harsh stares from those in green as she looked for the familiar door with the number ‘13’ on it. 

The door swung open, Miles Lestrange leaning against the frame with crossed arms. “If you’re looking for your boyfriend, he isn’t here,” he smirked. “Patrick’s in the library, as usual.” 

“I’m not looking for Patrick, I’m looking for Riddle. What’s his door number?” 

Lestrange curled a brow in interest, pushing himself off the door frame as he mused, “Oh? You’re already bored of Florian? How rude of you, Saoirse.” 

“Florian?” 

“Yeah, that’s Patrick’s middle name.” He ran a hand through his curls. “Anyways, why do you need Tom?” 

“I just need to talk to him,” she frowned. 

Miles sighed, “His door number is seven; he rooms with ‘Brax, Louis, and Cass’.” 

With a small thanks, Saoirse retraced her steps, eyes dancing to the bold, black number on teak wood. The girl did not have many hopes of speaking to the boy today, but when she rapped her knuckles on the door, it was quick to snap open and make her jump out of her skin. 

It was odd to see Riddle in simpler clothing. He didn’t have his robe on, nor his gray sweater vest. Instead, he only wore the Oxford shirt all students were required to wear, along with his green and silver tie that hung loose under his collar. He did not speak, expecting Saoirse to have words roll off her tongue with ease, only to realize her eyebrows were crumpled up as she gathered her English. 

“I don’t have all day, you know,” he uttered, a breath of annoyance flushing past his nostrils. “Midterms are coming up; you should be studying instead of wandering off.” 

When the girl stayed silent, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Before he could slam the door, however, she spoke: 

“Let me join that stupid club of yours, Riddle.” 

Tom froze, the Adam’s apple in his neck bobbing as he turned on the ball of his foot. “Whatever Nott told you is none of your business.” 

“It became my business when you beat up the poor boy for rightfully spending his free time with whomever he chooses. Besides, he was following your dumb orders regardless.” 

Tom yanked Saoirse by her collar, throwing her inside the vacant dorm. The door finally slammed shut, the flame from the fireplace flickering against his high cheekbones and set jaw. 

“What did those idiots tell you,” he demanded through clenched teeth. It didn’t take long for the distance between the teens to close, Tom’s long legs taking strides to push Saoirse against the beam of Cassius’ four-poster bed. 

“They told me everything.”

“Really, everything?” 

“Everything they wanted to tell me before Orion demanded that I get some sleep.”

Saoirse hated how tall the boy was. People were rarely his height in Mahoutokoro, but it seemed like European genetics had these boys shooting for the stars. Through her lashes and frames, she could see how flared his nose was, how his lip was in permanent disgust at the thought of her being in his presence. 

Hesitant, Saoirse forced her tongue away from her inner cheek as she spoke, “Dumbledore spoke to me a while back…He seemed weirdly obsessed with you. I just wanted to know why.” 

Apparently, the mere mention of the man was enough to set the boy off. His eyes flashed with anger, perhaps even fear, but it was difficult to tell when Tom distanced himself from the girl to pace around the middle of the room. 

“What,” she smirked. “Do you have a secret affair with him or something? Trust me, it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen such a—”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he hissed. He turned to face her, a finger pointed in her direction as he pressed, “What did he say to you?” 

“I may or may not have spoken of you in a negative light,” she shrugged. “Dumbledore was trying to ask what I knew of you, which isn’t much.” 

Saoirse sighed, taking off her frames to rub her tired eyes. She sat down on Mulciber’s bed, letting her legs hang from the side as she laid down on his unmade sheets. “Whatever you’re trying to do with the Chamber of Secrets, It’s obvious that he knows.” She ignored the noise that came from his throat. “Senile men are a lot smarter than people would like to think; more deceitful as well.” 

She was met with silence, with the occasional crackling from the logs under the fire. 

“I don’t see the point in you being a Knight,” Tom said. “You’re only doing this for Nott.” 

“So,” she questioned. “You would be getting more out of your posse if I joined, regardless of my reasons. You would make a pretty shitty cult leader if you didn’t take advantage of your members, you know.” 

“And what makes you think the Knights of Walpurgis isn’t already a cult?”

The ashes under the flame fluttered, logs crumbling further down in prolonged silence. 

“I guess there’s only one way to find out.”

TR~S 

Saoirse did not know what to expect when she followed three boys in the middle of the night. After Astronomy class, Tom guided her, along with Patrick and Mulciber, up the castle. She never really got used to the moving stairs, but by the time they made it to the seventh floor, Saoirse’s head was already spinning and her hands clung onto Nott’s arm. 

The four of them moved quickly, footsteps light against the limestone flooring. Corner after corner, corridor after corridor, the teens finally stopped in the middle of a fork. Tom, the self-appointed line leader, walked up to the towering wall in front of them before pacing back and forth. Soon, the floor received residual shocks as the wall shook and split in the middle to open up. 

Patrick nudged Saoirse along, shutting her slack jaw with a forefinger. “You’re going to catch a fly in your mouth, Schatzi.” 

Seeing the girl in awe of one of the many hidden treasures Hogwarts had to offer, Cassius slapped a friendly hand to her back. “You’ll get used to it,” he chuckled. “I remember when we first found the Come-and-Go Room; our buddy Patrick here had the same reaction. You two are cute together, by the way.”

“Don’t say that,” hissed Patrick, his glasses fogged and his ears red. “Saoirse, Cassius doesn’t mean that at all, he’s just joking!”

The foreigner only smiled, amused by how Patrick’s eyebrows always curled whenever he was nervous. She followed the boys inside, craning her neck to inspect the castle’s magical and ever-changing architecture once more. Saoire always loved buildings, especially those built in the period of Gothic architecture. She loved how stained windows had become popular then, and she especially loved the Biblical iconography of the Christian faith, how it drowned cathedrals and other buildings in symbolism. 

Saoirse was pulled out of her trance by Patrick again, leading her to an ellipse-shaped table. He pulled out a chair for her before taking a seat next to her. Out of the corner of her eye, she witnessed Mulciber attempting to do the same for Rosier, only for his burly hands to be swatted away by his friend. 

“Now that everyone is here,” Tom drawled. “Patrick, if you could start the meeting.”

The boy in question nodded, his eyes fierce behind his perched frames. He stood, his chair scraping against the tile before he spoke, “The date is Thursday, November 19th, 1942. The time is 1:29 in the morning. All members are present and accounted for, along with one guest.” He glanced down at Saoirse, who had her eyes set on his figure the entire time. “The Knights of Walpurgis’ second meeting of the fall term is now in session.” 

Tom thanked Patrick with a wave of his hand, allowing the boy to sit down before speaking. He stayed standing, opting to pace at the head of the table.  “As you can see, men, we have a willing candidate to become our next knight.” 

With each word he spoke, Tom held onto the boys’ attention; moths to a raging flame. Their backs were straight, hands in their lap as they kept their heads high and their loyalty even higher. Saoirse had never seen Avery so serious before. 

“It has also come to my attention,” Tom mused. “That Dumbledore is attempting to thwart our plans once more. But do not worry; we have gotten past his insistence before.” He gestured a hand to Saoirse, signaling her to rise from her seat. “The girl has been in our presence for long enough, it seems. Saoirse, do you understand what the Knights of Walpurgis stand for?” 

She could only shrug. “I have some semblance of a mission, I guess.” 

“The origins of our name, the Knight of Walpurgis, comes from the holiday of Walpurgisnacht,” Patrick explained. “Walpurga was a saint long ago, known for battling diseases and witchcraft. She converted many people to Christianity and was sought after for protection against our practices. The holiday lasts from April 30th to May 1st, commemorating her canonization as a saint.

“We reclaimed the meaning of Walpurgisnacht. Just as she protected those from witchcraft and magic, we want to protect those from Muggles and their violent attempts at eliminating our populations. We, the Knights of Walpurgis, want to eliminate non magic folk, just as Muggle have done to us in the past in a similar fashion.” 

It made sense, Saoirse thought. However, surely not every Muggle had the same opinions. She turned to Tom, questions pooling in her mind. “So what does this have to do with the Chamber of Secrets?”

“As I’m sure the boys have told you,” he responded. “The Chamber is said to hold the very monster Salazar Slytherin planned to use himself. Our main problem is that the Chamber cannot be located.” 

“And you’ve checked everywhere?” 

“Yes, we’ve checked the library, asked people in the Sacred Twenty-Eight; there is nothing.” 

“Hogwarts: A History has a section on Salazar Slytherin, albeit small. It said that he was a Parselmouth and apparently, only those from his direct bloodline can inherit this ability. Maybe that’s why it can’t be found.” 

It was like a lightbulb had gone off—though, lightbulbs were made by Muggles, and electricity barely made sense to the Pureblood heirs. Eloise downed the drink in front of him—presumably alcohol— slamming his glass down to the table in fervor. 

“I knew Asians were smart,” he laughed. “But not this smart! It makes so much sense!” Eloise turned to Tom, arms outstretched in excitement. “Tom—sorry, my Lord, you’re a direct descendant of Salazar!” 

Saoirse ignored the weird title. Maybe they had a similar hierarchy system here, like Japan. 

“Yes, Avery, that’s an amazing observation.” Tom smiled ugly, stopping any laughter from bubbling in Avery’s throat. “Obviously I’ve thought of that, you idiot.”

It made sense now. That’s why Riddle was accepted into the group so easily. But still, as Saoirse picked at the chipped and frayed wood of the table, her mind could not wrap around the fact that the boy’s surname held no importance, no connection to any Pureblood family. Even with that information, it also wasn’t plausible for his status to be anything but Pureblood; his lineage made sure of that.

“I’m sure we’ll figure it out soon enough,” smiled Miles. “After all, we have until the end of fall term.” 

“Which families were closest to Slytherin’s descendants,” Saoirse asked. “Surely there has to be something in an office or study.” 

“We’ve tried that,” Abraxas frowned. “We even asked MIles’ mum, who practically knows everyone in Europe. The next family that would be closest would be mine, but I’ve been looking since last summer; my father has nothing.” 

Tom spoke, his words carrying hopeful encouragement to his lackeys. “That is why I have decided to bring you tonight, Saoirse. With your foreign knowledge, we could broaden our horizons.” 

The girl could only shift in her seat to cross her arms and legs. “You really think Salazar Slytherin brought a creature from Japan all the way to the middle of nowhere in Scotland?” The look in his eyes gave everything away to her; he knew it was a stretch, too. “Look,” she sighed. “Japan really only has spirits and demons. There’s nothing I can think of that would have that much power. Sure, there are yōkai that look like snakes, which seems like something Slytherin would be particular about, but again, like I said; nothing from Japan could have the type of power to kill entire populations.” 

“Well, no matter,” he sighed. “It is just as Miles said: we have until the end of the fall term.” Tom waved an arm, prompting the girl to stand up and make her way to his side. “I’m sure you’re tired, Saoirse. It’s not usual to be up this late in the night. Before you leave, though, it is customary for all Knights to be…inducted, if you will. If I could have your left arm, please.”

───────────

“Which one of you thought it was good for the girl to know of our plans?” Tom sighed for the umpteenth time, his stomach churning with disappointment as none of the boys sitting before him could get a word out in full confidence. 

“It was Eloise,” Abraxas tensed. “He accidentally told Saoirse about the Chamber, but Orion eventually convinced her to join for Patrick’s sake.” 

Surprisingly, Tom did not blow up towards Avery’s mistake. “Orion, good job,” he mused. “This is very pleasant to hear. I’m glad to know that at least one of you knows how to seize an opportunity, the behavior of a true Slytherin.” 

It was very rare for Tom to throw compliments. If he praised you, then he was just a smidge happy; if he was happy, then there was a lesser chance of him being mad. No one liked when he was mad. If you could gain Tom’s acknowledgement, you were given the highest doses of immunity one could obtain. 

In the eyes of his followers, gaining merciful immunity was the ultimate goal, even if it meant sabotaging those closest to you.

Credit(s): Dividing banner (^^^) by Chen Lu (1436 - 1449) - "Plum Blossoms in Moonlight" scroll painting; sourced through Pinterest

[sidekick-hero]

45. "You're simply the best" for dialogue writing prompts because it's true for you ✨✨✨✨✨💛

Awww, Jen, you're always so sweet to me 💛💛💛

Thank you so much for the lovely prompt. And also thank you @baronsamediswife for coming up with the idea. Love your brain. And you.

This is totally stolen from Shitt's Creek. When David serenades Patrick *melts into a puddle*

You’re simply the best

„I don’t know why you‘re in such a hurry, seriously. It’s an open mic night. I’m still surprised you even agreed to come. You’ll hate it.”

Steve huffs, kind of amused at his boyfriend’s antics.

His boyfriend. Steve still couldn’t believe it. It’s all very new but he’s already so gone on Eddie, it’s kind of embarrassing. Or it would be if Steve would tell him. Which he won’t. No, he’s playing it cool. Going slow. Let it progress naturally, Harrington he tells himself. He’s got this.

The nervous energy Eddie exudes is nothing unusual per se. He’s always fidgeting, always playing with his rings, his hair, or lately, Steve’s hands. But Steve doesn’t get why he’s nervous going to an open mic night where people will most likely sing Madonna or ABBA or the Bangles. And not very good, in Steve’s experience. There will be a lot of secondhand embarrassment. Which is honestly why Steve and Robin wanted to go. To make fun of people. So why was Eddie nervous?

He gets his answer an hour later.

Eddie had excused himself to the bathroom five minutes ago and Robin’s been telling him something about a girl she met at the grocery store earlier that day. She explains how their hands touched and how she felt sparks and oh my god Steve she smiled at me. He’s about to tell her that the girl was obviously flirting with Robin and that she should have asked her out when Robin’s eyes get big, and her mouth drops open.

“Robin? What’s the matter?” But before she can answer he hears a familiar voice, amplified by a microphone.

“I would like to dedicate this song to a very special someone in my life. Steve Harrington.”

What the…

“There he is, right there, that’s him.” Eddie’s smiling at Steve, soft and private. And although Steve feels heat rise in his cheeks, he’s not sure that it’s from embarrassment. “You can’t miss him. Prettiest boy in town. Hell, in this country.” Nope, definitely not embarrassment.

Robin mistakes the increasing redness of his face, though. “You’ll let me know when I should pull the fire alarm?”  Before Steve can reply Eddie starts to plug the strings of his acoustic guitar. It has ‘this machine slays dragons’ written across the smooth wooden surface. Eddie was such a nerd. His nerd.

The melody is soft, so unlike anything Eddie usually plays, that Steve needs a second to place it. When he does, his heart skips a beat.

I call you when I need you, my heart's on fire

You come to me, come to me wild and wild

When you come to me

Give me everything I need

Fuck. He was being serenaded by Eddie Munson. Steve can’t help the way he just melts. He knows how he feels about Eddie, has known for a while. But never in his wildest dreams did he expect this. He tries to swallow but his mouth’s too dry. He can’t say the same thing for his eyes.

Give me a lifetime of promises and a world of dreams

Speak a language of love like you know what it means

MMm, and it can't be wrong

Take my heart and make it strong, baby

He’s not singing the song like Tina is. It’s a slow rendition. Heartfelt and soft. The way Eddie sometimes is with him, when they’re alone in Steve’s bed. It reminds him of the way Eddie’s eyes become when he looks down at Steve in his arms, bedhead and morning breath and all. Liquid, like warm honey.

When he hits the chorus and sings

Ooh, you're simply the best

Better than all the rest

Better than anyone

Anyone I've ever met

He looks straight into Steve’s eyes and even though they hadn’t said it yet he hears the ‘I love you’ clear as day. He mouths back at Eddie ‘I love you, too’ and smiles at him. The crocked one he knows Eddie loves best.

When Eddie finishes the song, everyone applauds enthusiastically. Even if Steve wasn’t biased, he would say Eddie had been the best performer all night. As it is, he whoops and hollers like they’re at Madison Square Garden and not some bar that has seen better days. Eddie bows dramatically before hopping off the stage, striding across the room to where Steve and Robin are standing.

“What’d you say, big boy?” he asks, tone cheeky but Steve can see in his eyes that he’s nervous. He just put his heart on the line here and even though Steve had mouthed ‘I love you’ at Eddie just minutes ago, he knows what he has to do now.

He steps forward, right into Eddie’s space. He cups his face in both hands and pulls him down until their lips are almost touching. Steve makes sure to look deep into Eddie’s eyes, letting his own tell Eddie everything he’s been swallowing down for weeks before he whispers against Eddie’s lips.

“You’re simply the best.”

[elizabethkitley]

i do think it is important to note too that they were all friends before cc and connor were even together. like if you watch the podcast episode kate did with connor and patrick it is very clear that they are all close and hang out regularly (the episode was filmed after the championship finals in 2023 before the cc connor hard launch). i don’t think it is entirely wrong for jada to defend him if she is really close with/in the same friend group as him. and obviously we know jada is close with the mccaffery’s. it was probably better for her to stay quiet bc now she’s gotten herself in a mess she didn’t need to be in. but also i think people are gonna be more hard on her which isn’t necessarily fair because if say kate got on live and said the exact same thing (which given the chance she probably would) people wouldn’t be giving her as much crap.

eh if kate said that shit i'd be on her ass too. from what i've seen kate is just supportive at most not borderline obsessed the way jada is. maybe it's an age/maturity thing (seeing how gabbie, kate & caitlin have all graduated while she's still in college) cause now more people are gonna talk about it when they probably weren't aware of this before