#predictable little git

[chanstopher]

🐺🫧240216

[ashdreams2023]

hello dear! I don't know if you are accepting requests, but I would like to request a five hargreeves x fem!reader

where the reader is a psychic, and she works in the more "chic" part of the commission and she is interested in Five because of some visions she has of him and nananananana

Anyway, I hope you understood :))

a big kiss from Brazil MWAH!

I reached Brazil?! Y’all I’m worldwide now 😩💕

Five hargreeves x fem reader

Watching

There’s many characters in the commission to say the least, everyone got their story and how they got there, much how you ended up there.

But you weren’t that special, you don’t think so at least, not with your coworker having the head of a cow and speaking fluent Spanish and French.

You didn’t usually interact with other employees there that weren’t in your department, it wasn’t because you thought yourself better than them but everyone other than you moved too fast, worried at lot, but you suppose the calmness comes from knowing what your future is and how very little it takes to change your fate.

It was also noted that your department tended to stay to focus on appearances and self expression, you’ll be mostly found in different outfits and fun makeup, it clashed with the usual uniform but it was fine because in your case, it mattered what you said rather than what you looked.

In your years there you’ve predicted deaths, wars, fallouts and whatever you can think about.

It was your job anyways and no one knew your face to point fingers at who is telling on their little failed schemes.

Although….there has been a change of atmosphere since you began seeing some interesting visions about a certain agent.

Five Hargreaves.

An oldie he was, yet surprisingly this was the first time you’ve seen him do something so….unexpected.

End of the world? His family? A new threat from within? Interesting.

You find yourself watching him, from your department, from the windows, he always walked with a purpose and heading somewhere.

Your coworker likes to tease you about this…sudden interest of yours calling him a call for help and that you need to get laid or something along those lines.

"There’s a thin line between sliver box and a grumpy git sweetie"

"Oh come on, aren’t you even a little curious? He’s so…mysterious"

Your staring had led to some rumors spreading around but nothing crazy, you weren’t the first to show any interest in five but it did become slightly embarrassing when you caught him staring at you during a New Year’s party.

Then you were surprised to find him up in your department looking for you.

"I thought I’ll drop by instead of our regular routine of you staring down at home like a hawk and me pretending I don’t see you"

"Oh…sorry?"

"I’ll accept good coffee and a conversation as a form of apology, meet at six outside."

Did he just ask you out? You weren’t so sure about it but it did happen and there were cameras, and to say the least, you became everyone’s business within a few hours.

"Care to tell me why a woman like you was staring at old me? I know your job here and what you’re capable of" He was so calm it made you shiver but you still kept your professional face on.

"You know as much as me that if I let something out both of us would be counting our days here"

"I see the rumors are true" He smirked

"Which ones?" Your curiosity peaked.

He took a sip from his cup "that’s a subject for another day with a much filling meal"

You bit your lip and chuckled "Are you asking me to dinner?"

The older gentleman eyed you so intensely you could almost feel the blush creeping at the back of your neck "I know a good restaurant in 1987 France"

"Hmm, it’s a date then"

"Only if you keep wearing that red lipstick of yours"

So he was watching you too "don’t tempt me I might rebel off and put something else, mess with you a little"

"I thought your department was too much of a bunch of goody two shoes"

You smiled at him then moved your under the table and kicked foot making him wince in pain.

"Pick me up at 7:30pm and a word of advice, watch out for chainsaw at your next mission" You stops leaving him stunned and clearly interested.

"Will do, will do."

[starryeyedwolves]

Loosened Tongues and Spilled Secrets

It’s past two in the morning when James finds himself regretting every decision that led him to this moment — particularly the one where he agreed to be Sirius' designated Apparition partner for the night.

"I told you not to mix firewhisky and goblin mead," James mutters as he tightens his grip on Sirius’ waist, trying to keep him from toppling into the nearest garden hedge.

Sirius stumbles, giggling. "Remus woulda let me. Remus likes when I’m a little stupid."

James pauses. "That… doesn’t sound like Remus."

Sirius waves a hand dramatically. "You don’t know him like I do."

"I’ve known him since we were eleven."

"Yeah, but not like I know him. I know how he likes his tea. I know he reads the last page of a book first, like a monster. I know he hums when he’s nervous, and bites his thumb when he’s concentrating, and he has this tiny scar on his collarbone that he says is from a werewolf but I bet it’s from falling out of a tree like a dumbass."

James blinks. "Alright," he says slowly. "That’s… more detail than I needed."

Sirius slumps against him, suddenly quiet. "He has these eyes," he mumbles into James’ shoulder. "Like... amber in the sun. And sometimes they go all stormy when he’s angry, but not at me, he never looks at me like that."

James exhales through his nose. "Padfoot, are you—are you in love with him?"

Silence. A hiccup. Then—

"Oh fuck, I am," Sirius says, horrified. "James. Jamie. I’m in love with Remus. Like in love. Like, I want to kiss him until his breath runs out."

James snorts. "Yeah, mate, you’ve only been mooning over him for three years. Everyone knows."

Sirius gasps. "He doesn’t!"

"He does."

"NO."

"Yes. And he’s been mooning over you right back, you blind git."

Sirius goes silent again, eyes wide and glassy. Then, in a wobbling voice: "What do I do?"

"You go home. Sleep it off. And maybe, maybe, tomorrow you tell him."

Sirius looks vaguely terrified. "What if he doesn’t want me?"

James snorts again. "He calls you 'Siri' like it’s a prayer and saves you the last chocolate biscuit every bloody time. He wants you."

There’s a long pause.

Then Sirius grins.

"He’s gonna kill me when I tell him I puked in your fireplace, isn’t he?"

James sighs, defeated. "You what—?"

Remus is halfway through a mug of peppermint tea and the third re-read of Wuthering Heights when he hears the sharp crack of Apparition, followed by a muffled thud.

He freezes. Then sighs.

Sirius.

Of course it’s Sirius.

Remus glances at the clock. 2:07 a.m. Predictable.

He pads barefoot to the front door and opens it to find James supporting an entirely sloshed Sirius, who’s grinning like sin and slurring something about "beautiful, brilliant boys with scarred knuckles and sad eyes."

Remus raises a brow.

James looks like he’s aged ten years. "I can’t do this anymore. He tried to snog a lamppost."

Remus pinches the bridge of his nose. "Bring him in."

James all but drags Sirius inside, depositing him onto Remus’ worn sofa.

"I’ve sobered him up enough to not choke on his own tongue," James mutters. "The rest is your problem now."

"Thanks, mate," Remus deadpans.

James gives a helpless little salute and Disapparates without another word.

Silence settles over the flat, warm and uncomfortable.

Sirius lies sprawled on the couch, hair in his eyes, shirt unbuttoned enough to reveal that stupid tattoo of a star on his collarbone — the one Remus has absolutely never stared at.

Sirius looks up at him, blinking. "Moony."

"Pads."

"You have… really nice hands," Sirius mumbles, eyes fixed on where Remus grips his mug. "Elegant. But, like, also strong. Like you could strangle a man or knit a very sexy jumper."

Remus blinks. "You’re pissed."

"Painfully," Sirius agrees. "But still honest."

Remus exhales and sets his tea down. "Let’s get you into bed."

Sirius smirks. "Remus, you flirt."

Remus gives him a flat look. "I’ll drop you on the floor."

"You’d never," Sirius says, eyes going wide and dramatic.

Remus hauls him up. It’s like trying to carry a very talkative, flirtatious sack of potatoes. Who keeps trying to nuzzle his neck.

"Merlin’s pants, Pads, hold still."

"You smell like cinnamon," Sirius murmurs. "And books. And... heartbreak."

Remus swallows.

He doesn’t want to ask.

He knows he shouldn’t ask.

But Sirius’ head is heavy against his shoulder, and his voice is soft in a way that makes something deep in Remus ache.

So he asks.

"Heartbreak?"

Sirius lets out a drunken, breathless laugh.

"Remus, you bloody idiot. You really don’t see it?"

"See what?"

"You. Me. I talk about you constantly. Ask James. I write poetry about your bloody eyelashes. I’m in love with you, you stupid, gorgeous man."

Time stops.

Remus blinks. "What?"

Sirius looks at him, eyes too bright. "Don’t make me say it again. It already slipped out once tonight."

"You’re… in love with me?"

Sirius nods, then immediately frowns. "Unless I’m dreaming. Am I dreaming? If I kiss you, will you disappear?"

Remus laughs — soft, disbelieving. "I’m very real. And you’re very drunk."

"I’ll say it again sober," Sirius promises. "A hundred times. A thousand. Just — don’t hate me."

Remus swallows. "I couldn’t."

Sirius’ eyes widen. "Really?"

"I couldn’t hate you, Siri," Remus says, his voice quieter now. "But I… I didn’t think you felt the same way. You never…"

Sirius leans in, voice now almost a whisper. "I do. I always have. But you’re bloody oblivious."

Remus presses a hand to his face, trying to keep his own thoughts in order.

"I’m sorry," Sirius says suddenly, his voice breaking through Remus’ overwhelmed silence. "I didn’t mean to ruin everything. I just thought you—"

Remus cuts him off, gently cupping his face, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

It’s messy and far too desperate to be perfect, but Remus leans in, hands tangling in his hair, and it feels like coming home.

When they break apart, Sirius grins.

The Next Morning, Sirius wakes up to the smell of coffee and the suspicious weight of regret.

His head pounds. His mouth tastes like ash. And his chest—

His chest hurts.

He sits up slowly, trying to piece together the fragments of last night.

He remembers James. The lamppost. The staggering. The—

Oh god.

Remus.

He told him. Didn’t he?

He definitely told him.

"Shit," Sirius whispers into his hands.

"Morning," comes a voice from the kitchen.

Sirius looks up, heart in his throat.

Remus stands there, holding two mugs, wearing an old jumper and a look that’s unreadable.

"You’re awake," Remus says. "Good. You owe me."

"For?"

"You puked in my laundry bin."

Sirius winces. "Shit. Sorry. I’ll buy you new—wait, why was your laundry bin in the living room?"

Remus shrugs. "You were chasing the cat. The bin was your ‘spaceship’."

"Oh god."

Remus crosses the room and hands him a mug. Their fingers brush.

Sirius looks up. "Did I… say anything weird last night?"

Remus hesitates. "Yeah. You did."

"Oh.:"

"You said you were in love with me."

Sirius closes his eyes. "Fuck."

Remus sits beside him. Not too close. Not far either.

"And I said I couldn’t hate you."

Sirius’ eyes open. Wide.

Remus looks at him, something gentle and terrifying in his face.

"You meant it?" Sirius asks, voice raw.

Remus nods. "I’ve been in love with you for years, Sirius. I just thought you’d never want—"

Sirius kisses him before he can finish. This time, it’s slow, deliberate, soft, and with all the things they’ve kept hidden for too long.

When they break apart, Remus smiles, and Sirius feels like he might fly apart from the sheer intensity of everything that’s changed in a single night.

"You’re gonna make me write more poems, aren’t you?"

Remus chuckles, his voice low and warm. "Only if I get to read them this time."

Sirius grins. "Deal."

And with that, the evening of spilled secrets and drunken confessions gives way to a new kind of beginning for the two of them — one where Sirius's poetry finally gets an audience, and Remus’ heart no longer beats alone.

[theonceandfuturequeenoftarts]

There’s something different about Potter.

Draco heard the other boy had spent the summer before seventh year at some sort of student duelling program in Russia. Maybe he was hit with a lingering giddiness spell. Or he hit his head and is even more of an idiot than before.

Stupid Potter, with his stupid smiles.

The other boy is often writing letters or in the owlery, and the amount of owlpost he receives is far greater than in previous years. Weasley and Granger keep giving him looks when he gets a letter or a package, too. Maybe Potter made a new friend and the golden trio’s about to fall apart.

(Draco keeps his fingers crossed for that option.)

The first morning that’s chilly enough to necessitate a muffler, it all becomes clear. 

Draco spots Potter, Granger, and the Weasel in the courtyard during a free period. “Oi, Potter – what’s with the scarf? Gryffindor doesn’t want you any more?”

Instead of the expected red and gold, the muffler wrapped around Potter’s stupid head is navy with black trim.

Weasley, predictably, turns a startling shade of red; Potter and Granger roll their eyes at him.

“Wow, Malfoy, top-notch insult. Slytherin’s best never ceases to impress,” Potter deadpans.

“That’s one way to say you know nothing about the colours of other magical schools,” Granger snipes. “How expectedly Anglocentric of you.”

“Harry’s boyfriend is–”

What. “Boyfriend?”

“Ron…” Potter sighs, and oh, he is blushing.

Draco sneers. “Oh, a boyfriend at Koldovstoretz, eh? I’ve heard that one before.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Weasley growls.

“How pathetic, making up a fake boyfriend.”

“Why would I make up a boyfriend?” Potter says incredulously. “I don’t care whether other people know about Vee or not.”

“Just ignore him, boys,” Granger says, and the three do just that, to Draco’s indignation.

Pshah, like anyone would be interested in dating Potter.

…And what kind of a name is ‘Vee,’ anyway?

—

But, as becomes obvious in early November, someone actually is interested in dating Potter. Or the scruffy git is so desperate to prove his boyfriend is real that he has someone pretend to send him a Howler love letter. Either way, it’s downright embarrassing to hear across the Great Hall - almost enough to put him off his breakfast.

Potter opens the red parchment cautiously, but relaxes as soon as he hears the voice it contains.

“Hello, darling,” the Howler says in a smooth, cultured voice, with the barest hint of an accent. Draco swears it sounds a little familiar. “I wanted to wish you good luck for your first quidditch game of the season. I know you’ll do phenomenally. One day, I’ll be in the stands, but for now know I am there in spirit, zolotse.”

Several other students swoon and start tittering to each other over the romantic cheesy message. Really, how sweet crass to send that schlock as a Howler, forcing everyone to hear it.

Stupid Potter and his stupid Russian boyfriend.

He was planning to cheer for Ravenclaw in today’s match anyway, but now he really hopes they crush Potter and his merry band of Gryffindorks.

(They do not. Draco is irritated for the rest of the weekend.)

—

The Hogwarts Express is nearly empty of students excited to be home for Yule, and Draco is doing a final check of the carriages when he sees it. He rushes outside to make sure it wasn’t an illusion some brat placed on the window, but no. That’s Tom Riddle, five-time IMC schools' duelling champion and Koldovstoretz’s wunderkind. And he’s embracing Potter.

Draco must make some sound, because Potter is suddenly facing him with his wand out.

“Malfoy, what the hell?”

“That’s– You–” he gapes. “Tom Riddle is your boyfriend?? He’s not Russian at all!”

“Who is this?” Riddle says, frowning at Draco, before turning the frown on Potter. “You haven’t told your friends we’re dating?”

Potter wrinkles his nose. “That’s not my friend, that’s Draco Malfoy.”

Rude.

Understanding dawns in Riddle’s eyes and the frown dissipates.

Doubly rude.

“And everyone knows we’re dating. You sent a Howler to me at breakfast - the whole school heard it." Riddle looks so damn smug about that. "And people keep telling me to stop talking about it because of how ‘disgustingly soppy I am over you’ – their words.”

Riddle gives him a warm look. “Zaichik…”

“Your boyfriend’s name is ‘Vee!’” Draco insists. “How would anyone know that meant Tom freaking Riddle??”

“Because that’s what I call him? That’s what he likes to be called?” Potter says slowly, staring at Draco like he's grown an extra head. “I wasn’t aware all of Hogwarts needed to know his full name.”

He throws his arms up. “Unbelievable. How do you function on a day-to-day basis,” he mutters as he walks over to his mother, whose presence helps settle his vexed nerves. 

His only consolation is that he won’t have to see or hear about Potter for the next few weeks.

—

The first morning back from winter holidays, Potter receives another Howler. 

“Good morning, solnyshko. I’ve just gotten back to St. Petersburg and thought I’d drop you a line to wish you a good start to the term. I’m already counting the days until I see you again. 

“Yours, Tom Marvolo Riddle.”

“What?” someone squawks. 

Several different voices shout, “Tom Riddle?!” 

The sound of Potter’s embarrassed groan carries over the din. “Vee…”

Draco sits back and enjoys the chaos. At least one of those two love-struck idiots understands how these things work.

[kay-elle-cee]

@jilytoberfest 31 Prompts: Day 8 || 758 Words || Read on Ao3 —

8 October 1977

Lily knew a late dinner would mean fewer seats in the common room, but as she and Dorcas emerge through the portrait hole, they’re met with nearly all of Gryffindor laid out around the room. The study tables are full, the couches and armchairs are overflowing with students (frustratingly, James and his friends have still managed to snag some of the better spots even though they’d left the Great Hall maybe ten minutes earlier than the girls), and even the floor in front of the fireplace is littered with students stretched out writing essays.

Dorcas lets out a frustrated sound from beside her, perfectly voicing Lily’s own sentiments.

“Up to the dorm, then?”

As the last word leaves Lily’s mouth, one of the younger students rises from a plush armchair by the seventh-year boys and Dorcas makes a lunge for it. Lily trails her with laughter, close at her heels as she pulls at her friend’s school bag to try and gain an advantage. Their antics draw some fleeting attention from the others, who quickly go back to their own business. Lily can feel a set of eyes on her, though, and she determinedly resists looking to the couch where she knows she’ll find them shining with laughter behind a pair of black-rimmed glasses.

Dorcas unceremoniously flops herself into the chair and hugs her school bag to her chest with a grin, Lily glowering down at her.

“Thanks for sharing, Dor.”

Dorcas flashes a cheeky grin. “Survival of the fittest, babe.”

She’s about to give her friends’ legs a shove to the side to perch on the armrest when Dorcas’ bag suddenly jerks out of her arms and across the room. Immediately, Lily’s eyes flick up to the couch where she (predictably) sees James’ wand out, a look of mild amusement on his face. Dorcas follows her gaze to the culprit and sits up straight.

“You git! What the hell is your problem?”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have taken Evans’ seat.”

Lily scoffs, a flush rising up her neck. “Oh, like I need you to fight my battles for me, Potter.”

“This is what I get for being chivalrous?” 

“Chivalrous?” Lily laughs in disbelief. She whips her wand out and waves it with a muttered Accio to retrieve Dorcas’ bag. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“Thank you.”

Remus sighs wearily from beside him on the couch. “Prongs—”

“That wasn’t a compliment.” Her eyes narrow as she holds his gaze, and a spark shoots up her spine when he winks at her, almost imperceptibly. 

“I don’t have the patience for this tonight,” she announces, grabbing Dorcas by the hand and dragging her towards the stairs to their dormitory, leaving the four boys where they sit.

She hears Peter’s tired voice float up the stairs behind her. “I thought you two were getting on this month.” As she reaches the landing, she pulls open the door for Dorcas and glances behind her once more and has to fight the twitch of her lips.

Once in her dorm, she throws herself on her bed, rummaging in her bag for a particular piece of parchment while Dorcas fumes on her side of the room. 

“I swear, Lily. He’s worse now that you’ve gotten along and are on the outs. Prick.”

She nods, muttering agreements as she finds a quill and starts writing. 

08 October 1977 7:31pm

Lily: Might’ve gone a little too far there. Dorcas is pissed. 

Putting the quill to the side, she pulls out her Charms textbook to peruse while waiting for a response—she doesn’t expect one immediately. Not knowing that he’s surrounded by his friends. 

A few minutes later, the parchment heats up. 

James: Sirius has gotten suspicious. Perhaps I overcommitted. 

A smile tugs at her lips and she darts her eyes over to where Dorcas sits, now taken up with what looks to be the Herbology essay. She allows the smile to settle on her face as she writes back. 

Lily: We’ll, maybe we can find out what the hell your problem is over dinner tomorrow? Say we’ve got Head duties to sort out and nick some food from the kitchens?

James: I worry I’m becoming a bad influence. 

Lily: So full of shit. No you don’t. 

James: No I don’t. That sounds perfect except for the part where I’ll be distracted all day. 

Lily: You and me both, Potter. 

Lily: Oh and you’ll need to apologize to Dorcas if you don’t want her actively rooting against this when we tell them all.

James: Understood.

[localfanbaselurker]

I’m watching Voltron: Legendary Defender for the first time and here is what I have had to say per each season (this is 1-2) (3-4) (5-6) (7) (8)

Pre-Watch Knowledge

->big transformers type robot

->pretty alien girl that looks like princess yue from A:tLA

->they are the epitome of color-coded characters

->space??

->there was crazy people in the fanbase that sent cupcakes laced with something to the creators

->queer baiting (this one in particular got me)

->klance.

->^honestly I only knew that because people were comparing it to zukka and I wanted to check it out

->my friend really likes it

Post S1 thoughts-

->that cliffhanger was crazy imagine they weren’t renewed for a s2

-> i went on tumblr after and youre telling me they made that show IN TWO YEARS?? EIGHT SEASONS. IN TWO MF YEARS?? that is insane. props to the writers bro they fr must of known what they were doing.

->all of these characters already scream “doomed by the narrative”

->my fav characters are pidge and lance

->I definitely did NOT expect yue Allura to be British

->bonding moment.

->^like yeah okay i get it now

-> the healing pods are a very interesting concept. Like, what if you get some ailment that it doesn’t recognize?? Do you just die??

-> genuinely felt so bad for Not Yue. Allura. Allura when they had to remove her father’s memory thing. Like yeah I know the castle was corrupted or wtv but bro imagine. Your entire race is dead. your mom, who you previously knew alive is now most likely dead. You already had to go through losing your father once, and now you have to lose him again. Any sliver of hope you had of staying connected with him is gone, because the entirety of his essence is now gone. She’s stronger than me, I would have never given him up so easily. I admire that about her.

->I also made the horrible mistake of going on ao3 after

yk for gits and shiggles… and when I go to a new fandom I always search by hits to see the classics first yk

…

WHY are you guys so 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂… I genuinely shed a tear what. I was flabbergasted to say the least.

On that note the top 23 were about redguy/blueguy getting smoochy-smoochy with each other so I guess that should be a hint as to what you guys like

->the description of the show says the robot (voltron) is operated by “five teenagers” but that shiro guy has to be AT LEAST 25. He is pushing 30 you can’t convince me otherwise.

->for now it’s kinda giving atla except the war is intergalactic and lasted 10,000 years instead of 100.

->all the other characters seem to have a pretty clear background, but we haven’t yet heard about Keith’s backstory, so I want to know (I know now, this was my initial thought)

->shiros backstory/ptsd is very interesting, lots of angst possibilities i see

-> I had an inkling that pidge was…genderly different. (At first I thought she was transmasc)

Post S2

-> WHERE is my man. Where did he go.

-> Pookie please come back. Now. It’s not a suggestion.

->KEITH BACKSTORY I PREDICTED THEY WERE GONNA SHOW US YAY I LOVE BEING RIGHT

-> he’s galra! Soooo much whump opportunity

-> the whole “Allura doesn’t hate you she’s just a little upset to find out ur part of the race that killed off her entire peoples and family and okay maybe she does hate you” scene with keith and hunk is really giving that scene in atla: the southern raiders where zuko thinks katara hates him and sokka reassures him (badly) while he was just trying to get laid w suki.

->^ that’s gay

-> the aliens they met are going to be very important, aren’t they?

->^ oohhh so this is where the “langst” stuff comes from? he’s just kinda insecure i think, but it can’t possibly just be this episode that has that tag so high, unless flanderization is just really popular with you guys, but already suspect that unfortunately

->^Allura high key ate with this

->the “Blade of Marmora” people are definitely gonna be important later

-> the mall episode was soooo fun! fav s2 episode for sure!

->^gay. It’s literally giving “two bros chillin in a hot tub. five feet apart cus they’re not gay”

-> I know of 2 ships now. klance and allurance. I only see the former though, the latter seems more like a running gag/unrequited crush thing (for now i suppose)

-> Coran is an icon. I love that whimsical man. he’s beekeeping age per say.

-> I need pidge to find her brother and father man I feel so bad for her PLEASE DOBT TELL ME THEYRE DEAD ILL LITERALLY DIE.

-> pidge is sooooo cool i love her so much she’s literally the pookiest of the pookies

-> Who tf is gonna be the black paladin now. Keith sure as hell isn’t ready for that. maybe Allura?? Cus yk she kinda already leads them a little bit

These are thoughts I had compiled over a while now. I am on S5E3 as of now (07/03/24) but I wanted to document my thoughts either way. I will post on the tag “laura’s first vld”

[wannabelilybriscoe]

ASFTEOTW: Chapter 18 Commentary

This chapter of A Song for the End of the World is a little bit sexy at the end. But first we gotta get through some plot stuff.

Previous Chapter < > Next Chapter

There’s a term used by the military to describe a high-impact event that is difficult to predict under normal circumstances but that, in retrospect, appears to have been inevitable. This is known as a black swan event.  Because a black swan is, by definition, unexpected. Fundamentally hard to prepare for. It’s only after the fact, in hindsight, that the black swan is rationalised by those who survived it and so understood to have been unavoidable. Of course, the military had protocols for everything, including black swans. These protocols focused on handling situations of uncertainty using a structured framework that accounted for having incomplete information.  The problem is that the military is made up of humans, and humans are abysmally susceptible to black swans. There are two reasons for this: the first is that humans like to create narratives to understand the world, but they can only create narratives based on their reflections of the past. The second reason stems from the first: humans tend to believe that the past is a reliable predictor of the future. There’s also the pesky little matter of confirmation bias, which prevents humans from seeing evidence that contradicts their existing beliefs; their understanding of how things have happened in the past. Of how things should be.  So, when something entirely unexpected happens like, say, a zombie apocalypse…well. They were all just humans, grasping at tools that saved them in the past, trying to beat the black swan.  But there’s the rub: you don’t know a black swan is a black swan until after it’s already beaten you. 

I am not a military geek at all. But I've learned a bunch of interesting trivia through my research for this fic. The term "black swan" in this context is not specifically a military term (i.e. it's also used in economics, by historians, etc.), but it is used by the military. I pulled the concepts from this Britannica article. I loved this concept as a narrative device for the second part of the story, and if you're caught up in the story, you'll know why.

Giving Remus’s hand a quick squeeze, Sirius runs to fall in step with Regulus. Crouch hangs close on the other side of the younger Black brother, eyeing Sirius suspiciously.  As Remus follows them, he overhears Sirius demand, “Reg, what the hell is going on?”  “Que fais-tu ici?” Regulus hisses at Sirius without breaking his straight-backed stride.  Not missing a beat, Sirius responds in rapid French. “Je t'ai demandé en premier.” “Je pensais que tu serais parti avec les Potter.” “Évidemment non.” Remus has no idea what they’re saying, but he notices the way Regulus does not respond to whatever Sirius just said. Sirius continues impatiently, “Où sont maman et papa?”  “Plus tard.” “Non, Reg, dis-moi maintenant! Et qu’est ce-que tu fais avec cette putain d'épée?” Regulus shoves past Sirius as they enter the sitting room, following Dolohov and Shacklebolt to where they’ve gathered by the fireplace. “Are you alright?” Remus asks Sirius in a low voice. Sirius exhales a sharp, frustrated breath, running a hand through his hair. “Just looks like the zombie fucking apocalypse hasn’t changed him at all.” 

I put this in the chapter's notes, but in this story, Sirius and Reg speak several languages, including French, Latin, and Italian, though their primary language is English. They use French to speak privately in front of others.

Also, yes, I will gratuitously drop the line "the zombie fucking apocalypse" whenever I feel like it.

“Remus! I thought better of you!” He rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, well—” “That’s not important right now,” Sirius cuts, waving a hand. “What matters is that the sneaky git revealed Remus’s immunity to complete strangers. What is he playing at?” “It’s like he said in his letter,” Lily says, glancing down at the crumpled paper in her hands. “He thinks this is our best chance at survival.” “And do we trust him?” James asks with an edge to his voice.  Remus expects Lily to get defensive, but he’s surprised to see her expression turn pensive instead.  “Severus isn’t the type to take chances. He would have put a lot of thought into this before acting.”  McGonagall nods in agreement. “Yes, he has always been a calculating boy. I believe he did this with the right intentions.”  Sirius and James share a sceptical look.  “But how do we know he isn’t doing this for him? For some gain of his own?” James presses.  “He isn’t,” Lily says with conviction. “In his letter he. Well.” James turns to her fully, brow furrowed. “What?”  Lily chews on her lower lip, a faint blush painting her cheeks. “He, ah. He said he loves me. And he wants me to be safe.”  James’s jaw twitches. “He did?”  Sirius makes a disgusted noise. Lily shuffles her feet and nods. “Yes. I didn’t—I had no idea he felt that way.”  James’s chest rises and falls with his breathing. His posture is tense, his next words coming out clipped. “And you?” Lily’s eyes widen, and she shakes her head. “Of course not!”  “I’m sorry to interrupt, but we must focus on the matter at hand,” McGonagall cuts in, her voice soft but firm.  “Y-yes, of course!” Lily says quickly. But James continues to watch her with trepidation.  

Snape!! *shakes fist* Regulus addresses him without preamble. “What are you exactly to my brother?”  “I’m not sure how much he would want me to say.” “Are you his boyfriend?”  Remus tilts his head, trying to read the younger boy’s expression. Is Regulus bigoted like their parents? Sirius hadn’t mentioned him sharing their views, but then again, he hasn’t told him much about Regulus at all.  “Why do you want to know?” Irritation passes across Regulus’s face—an echo of the irritated look he sometimes sees on Sirius.  “Do you care about him?” “...’Course I do. Now, why are you asking?” Regulus raises his chin imperiously. “I don’t care to know the details of your relationship, but given my brother’s tendency towards rash behaviour, I feel it’s my duty to speak to you. I’ll say this only once: you should be careful about flaunting your relationship in front of others.” Uneasiness ripples through him. “Why? Is there someone who would harm us? Should we be worried about going to Gaunt Farm?” It’s unsettling how quickly the irritation melts away from Regulus’s face, leaving his expression smooth and impassive again. A practised skill in the House of Black, apparently. “You should know by now that harm can happen anywhere. Gaunt Farm is safer than any alternative, but you should always keep your attachments close to your chest.”  This doesn’t do much to soothe him. “Is that why you’re giving Sirius the cold shoulder?” “My relationship with my brother is of no one’s concern.” “It’s a bit of my concern, what with his and my attachment.” “It isn’t. I don’t know what my brother has told you about me, but trust that you will never understand what it is to be a part of our family.” Well, he can’t argue with that point. “He told me he wishes he’d taken you with him. When he left your parents’ home. He misses you.”  There’s the slightest twitch to Regulus’s eyebrow, the corner of his mouth. “My brother is stubborn. And idealistic.” “And you’re not?” “No. I’m a realist. Which is why I’m making the effort to talk to you at all, in the hopes that you have even a shred more sense than he does.”  “Right. Well. This has certainly been reassuring.” Remus stuffs his hands into his pockets. “Look. Just be straight with me. Is Sirius going to be safe at Gaunt Farm? And the rest of our friends? Because this is something that I need to do, but if they’re going to be put in danger, then we’re leaving now without them.”  Regulus rolls his eyes. “Please. Travelling at night would be suicide. Besides, you know my brother won’t forgive you if you leave, don’t you?” So Regulus does know Sirius well. Remus knows he’s right. He doesn't want to leave without Sirius. He made a promise that he wouldn't leave again without telling him. But if it's between breaking a promise and saving his life, he'll do what he needs to do.  “He’ll be angry, but I’d rather he be angry with me and alive than the alternative.” Regulus regards him for a drawn-out moment before answering. “They’ll be safe, as long as they keep their wits about them.“  Remus levels him with his own stare. “Good. I’m going to believe you because you’re Sirius’s brother, and you’re important to him. But if anyone threatens them, I’m not going to think twice about doing something about it.”  Regulus doesn’t even flinch. Like he’d expected as much. He nods.

“Understood.”  “Oh, and also? I think Sirius had more sense than you give him credit for.” 

I am not a moonwater girly, but I do have so much fun writing scenes with Remus and Regulus. I feel like they have a similar energy.

And yes, I do think Remus would break a promise if he felt it was warranted.

But check out Remus defending his boyfriend!!

Remus: Um, actually 😤 Sirius has a ton of sense 😤 So how about you watch your mouth 😤

Xeno smiles. “We’re at a fork in the road. Everyone can feel it. Some of us will take one road, and some will take the other. It seems like a good time to meet my own destiny.” Xeno’s words are simultaneously hopeful and foreboding—two contradicting forces that unsettle Remus deeply. “We’re only going ahead of you. Then we’ll send for the rest of you,” he tells Xeno. Xeno lowers his hands and looks at Remus properly. “Do you trust the group from Gaunt Farm?” Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Remus says, “Not really. But if there’s a chance that I can help them make the vaccine, I have to try. Also…Sirius’s brother is with them.” Xeno nods slowly, like he puts real weight in Remus’s words.  “Yes, sometimes we must take risks for love. You’re brave, Mystery Man. If we don’t see each other again, I hope destiny treats you well.” He smiles at Remus. Feeling heavy and a little sadder than he anticipated, Remus smiles back.  “Same to you. But we’ll radio you when we get there. This isn’t the last you’ll hear from me.”  Xeno doesn’t respond. Still smiling, he returns to his game. As Remus turns to leave, he stops, calling over his shoulder, “Oh, and say hello to Panda for me, if you find her.” “When,” Xeno says easily.  “When,” he amends. 

Xeno! You underrepresented weirdo. I adore writing him as a mystic oracle kid.

Xeno: I dunno man, those guys seem wack. You sure you and your soulmate wanna go to their creepy farm?

Remus and Xeno, I will write a buddy comedy about you two one day!!

He traces the bridge of his nose up the length of Sirius’s neck to the spot below his ear and back down, so he can feel the shivers it sends across Sirius’s skin, the hitch in his breath. As he does this, he slips his hands lower, under Sirius’s shirt, so he can stroke the soft, smooth skin of his stomach, the trail of hair below his belly button. His hands drag Sirius’s hands with them, and he feels Sirius push against his hands as they splay across his stomach, then lower, pressing against the sharp juts of his hip bones. His senses are flooded with Sirius—the heat of his body, the sound of his breath stuttering and speeding up, the smell of him, the pressure of his hands gently urging him on his path of exploration.  “You’re so beautiful, cariad,” Remus murmurs into his ear. Later, he will reprimand himself for being so needy and so carelessly close to Sirius. But right now, he feels swept up in the moment, like the world around him is closing in so all he can focus on is the sound of Sirius’s breath, the warmth of his skin, and the small movements he makes in his arms, against his front. “Sometimes I can’t believe how beautiful you are.” Sirius strokes a hand up Remus’s arm to the elbow, then reaches up to feel the curls at the nape of his neck, stretching his body against him. Sirius's arse is flat against his front, and he's sure Sirius can feel him hardening. It's equal parts embarrassing and thrilling.  “Tch. You sure are laying it on thick suddenly," Sirius says, but he sounds pleased, and Remus wants so badly to please him. Emboldened, Remus smooths his hands up the flat plane of Sirius’s torso until he feels the ridges of his ribs and the rise and fall of his breathing. He wants Sirius so viscerally that it hurts. “You could do so much better than me,” he says mournfully, burying his face in Sirius’s neck again, feeling his tendon move as he swallows through the thin fabric of the mask. “You deserve someone who can give you everything.”  He feels Sirius sigh, then turn around in his arms, ringed fingers wrapping around the back of his neck. The air between them feels pulled taut like an elastic band, so taut it could snap at any moment, and then they'll be crashing into each other.  “Stop that,” Sirius says fiercely, staring straight into his eyes, “I bloody adore you, Moony. God, I just—I like you so much. Stop trying to pull away from me.” Tears prick at the corners of Remus's eyes. Sirius continues to look at him, unflinching and beautiful, and it feels like he’s looking directly at the sun. I should take a step back, Remus thinks, I should put some safe distance between us, this is too close, it's too risky… But then something flashes across Sirius’s face—a look of determination that Remus has come to recognise. Sirius pulls back from him, and it sends Remus’s mind reeling, because he just told him not to pull away, so why…? Remus takes a bewildered step forward, but Sirius stops him with a hand pressed firmly against his chest.  “I have an idea.” “What?” “If you could touch me properly, where would you start?” His voice catches in his throat. “But we shouldn’t.” “But if you could.” Sirius holds his gaze, and Remus notices that his posture is relaxed and open. Unguarded. In fact, his mouth is quirked into a small smile, one eyebrow cocked invitingly—a challenge, then. “If you could touch me anywhere you wanted, however you wanted, without needing to worry about it, what would you do?”

*fans self* Whew! I'm not going to share the rest here, but if you've read it, you know how it goes. It felt like the right time for R and S to take their relationship to a new level of physical intimacy, even if they can't touch each other the way they want to. I wanted this scene to be sexy but also vulnerable and sweet. Sirius recognises what Remus needs in this moment, and he offers a way to work around it so that they can still feel that intimacy they both crave. The night before they leave the inn felt like the right time for this scene, because the uncertainty of the next day would give them (particularly Remus) that little push that they need.

The action really gets going in the next chapter! Ahhh!

[miraruinada]

From the secretive cabin hidden deep within the jungle comes the opinions of Ignacio Otxo Alter, whether his service is necessary or not he's the right man for the job, the straight shooter that shook up the world is taking them all on and lickin' em good, this is Ignalter's Talk.

"Hey trespassers, this here Ignalter's Talk. The sun's beatin' down, won't be for long, so let's hit the pile."

Teresa Space Program in Budgetary Crisis.

"Long as man's been huntin' boar by starlight, he's been lookin' up and shoutin' I wanna go on that moon and we did cuz we said we would, but now these space princes are goin' 'round demandin' all the coin the count can carry so they can keep gallivantin' in their rockets 'til the cicadas spring out the mud. Well, it's time Molly Coddle and 'er bright pink parasol got ripped offa shitter and made to smell 'er own business. Now I kill a man or two in my life, but that don't make me no judge so's I don't pass no judgement, but you gotta be full as a tick on stump liquor to keep on a spendin' an' a got these three lil chickens peckin' on my head will save spacemen some coin. No more buildin' giant space pricks what for pissin' on the cosmos. Man wants to go to space can strap on a helmet, climb in the cannon, let the gunpowder carry 'im off among the stars. Else they grab some of 'em green spacemen, slice 'em head to bread an' let 'em know was Nacho whodunnit, this space progr'm ain't long for this world and I'm puttin' that on my predication list."

Ignalter's Prediction List:

Space program will fail.

'Nother war.

Crook Chaldea will look to ban my chaw.

Anglish fitting to rise up.

Ain't heard the last of that Tesla fellow.

Salmonella illness traced to chicken meat from Gallo company.

"Back on the pile. The empire's callin' back more chickens they say is contaminated with the chicken curse. Well, I say, no good chicken soup be fine if you're too lazy to strangle yer own bird, maybe a week on the range'll straighten you out."

The Clicker Segment

"Alright, next talk. My telegraph man in the hills just sent me a message on the clicker. Now, I get a hundred dozen o' these messages all day an' I can't read 'em accountin' my bad eyes. So Nascnan lady picks 'em out, the good ones and, well, come on Nascnan lady. You can sit for a while, but keep your boots on."

"To Nacho. Stop. And what about these gacha rates? Stop."

"Ya know, that gamblin' always sneaks in when half season's over and purloins the very thread from my hankie. That's why I'll die 'fore I roll and I don't respect none but a man what ain't lost a fortune in whalin'."

"That's right, that's why we gotta fix the gacha rates so that--"

"Damn right. We gotta take sanctuary in the mountains. Gotta group the workers in 'em towns and make our own army up in the hills there."

"Well, I wouldn't resort to revolution, but I do think that people should be made aware--"

"You big wuss! You talk about slittin' that hog's throat ear to ear, and you wanna caress it and call it sweet Sally! Get outta my cabin! Git 'fore Mondragon starts a barkin'!"

"What is your problem?"

"Pink at the core, little yellow belly. Now you stick with us cuz we got a fine jam from the fair and we're gonna stick it to a horse so we don't lose our mind."

[finkinthisfrew]

Anything (Pt.30)

cw: very mild Ross slander (I'm so sorry Ross gurlies- I was going somewhere with it and then later decided to abandon it. I just needed someone so Matty'd get protective cuz #protectiveMattyisbestMatty)

Chapter 30

"Darling... We've landed, it's time to wake up sweetheart," I heard Matty whisper gently in my ear. I opened my eyes, disorientated and surprised to see that people ahead of us were reaching up to get their bags from the overhead compartments.

I opened my eyes slowly, heavy with sleep. "How long was I asleep for?" I asked groggily, looking around for my bag to find my phone to check the time.

"A little over five hours I think," Matty said as he handed me my bag from under the seat in front of us helpfully, kissing my temple as I thanked him. He stretched his arms out ahead of him, rolling his shoulders back in a stretch.

The last thing I remember was settling into Matty's arms, nestling myself into his chest after our little adventure in the washroom, and feeling incredibly sleepy as we started watching a film together. After what had been an incredibly stressful and emotional few days, and a night of endless tossing and turning, I had already predicted that I would fall asleep at some point on the flight, but I didn't think I'd sleep through the whole thing.

"Did you hold me that entire time?!" I said in astonishment, guilt seeping in as I realized how uncomfortable that must have been for him.

"Yeah. But I slept for a bit after the movie too," he said with a small shrug.

"Matty!" I exclaimed in shock, "I'm so sorry! You should have woken me up, I could have leaned against the window or something," I said as I shook my head in embarrassment, hiding my face in my hand.

"Why would I want that?" Matty asked as his brow furrowed. He looked down at me in confusion. "Holding you is as much for you as it is for me, you know," he said with a little smile. Then he wrapped his arm back around me, pulling me in close. 

"I love having you in my arms," he whispered to me before pressing another kiss into my temple. I couldn't help but smile up at him. He smiled back down at me, then kissed me on my mouth, as I melted into his touch. 

After we finally got off the plane, we stopped by the washrooms, where he reassured me multiple times that it was not my fault that he couldn't use the bathroom for several hours. When he came back out after peeing, I continued my sorry's, unable to shake my guilt. He refused to let me apologize for it anymore, then he kissed my mouth which hung open in protest. That shut me up right away.

We strode through the airport hand in hand, weaving down the halls to find baggage claim and the rest of the band.

"Oi!" A familiar voice called in the distance. We turned to find George waving at us as we entered a large room with baggage carousels. "Over here!" he called with a smile.

We walked over to join the band, half of which were still waiting for their luggage. I saw my suitcase slide down at that moment, and Matty gestured to let him grab it as I approached George.

"I almost forgot your face wasn't naturally bright red all the time," George said as he bit his tongue, playfully shoving my shoulder. I shot him a glare as my face flushed with heat in embarrassment, but he just laughed. "Ahhh, that's more like it!" he said, pointing at my now scarlet cheeks as he threw his arm around my shoulder. I couldn't help but laugh with him.

"Shut up!" I said, poking him in the ribs as he yelped, making us both laugh harder. Matty walked over to us with both of our bags and a big smile on his face, happy to see his best friend and his girlfriend getting along so wonderfully.

"Surprised to see you survived a whole flight sat next to this dodgy git," George said to me, looking up at Matty with a twinkle in his eye.

Before Matty could open his mouth to tell George off, I looked up at George with a fake frown of confusion. "But I wasn't sat next to you, George- I sat next to Matty. Did you forget already?" 

A smile of surprise appeared on Matty's face as George raised his eyebrows at me. Both of them stared at me, but I wasn't finished. "Besides, don't speak about yourself so poorly, George. Just because you're lonely doesn't mean you'll never find someone," I said reassuringly as I patted his chest patronizingly. George's jaw dropped, the corners of his mouth betraying him as they turned up into a smile. Matty looked at me with such pride, a large smile stretching across his lips as he clapped slowly for me in awe.

"I didn't know you had that in you," George said, impressed. "She's feistier than I gave her credit for," he continued, smiling at Matty who laughed. I shook my head as I rolled my eyes at George who just smiled at me. "Better watch out though, Anna. Matty'll be very jealous once he realizes how big of a crush you have on me," he said devilishly as he gave me a squeeze before letting me go to retrieve his bag which just passed him on the conveyor.

Matty glared at him, but the smile on his lips remained, entertained by the whole exchange as he wrapped his arm around me. "What a shame that there's no one to be jealous of your crush on Anna," Matty said with a little pout to George who turned back to us as I snuck my arm around Matty's waist, tucking myself in closer. George flipped Matty the bird as he stifled a laugh.

"Are we all talking about our crushes on Anna?" I heard behind me. Ross stepped into our little circle, smiling down at me cheekily as he towered above me. 

I looked up at Matty's eyes to see them flicker with anger. His nostrils flared slightly as I felt his grip on my arm tense. I squeezed his waist gently and he looked down to meet my worried face. His anger melted as he took a deep breath. "Did anyone else want to admit to having a crush on my girlfriend?" he joked lightly with a loud sigh, gesturing to the rest of the band.

"Well as long as we're all being honest..." Polly stepped forward with a cheeky grin as she winked at me in jest. 

"So, you're all welcome to sod off," Matty smiled sickly sweet at everyone as he cocked his head to the side. We all laughed as everyone began to walk towards the exit and out to the next set of cars that waited for us. 

Matty took my hand in his, leading us toward the exit, but I hesitated.

"Matty..." I said tentatively as he looked over to see why I'd stopped. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course, darling. Anything," he said encouragingly.

"...Why is it that when Ross flirts with me, it upsets you, but not when George does it?" I asked cautiously. 

Matty looked at me curiously, and I watched as thoughts ran through his mind. He hesitated before finally speaking. 

"I guess I wasn't really aware of that until you pointed it out..." He looked down at our hands, running his thumb over my knuckle over and over. "I'm not sure... I guess I just know that George really cares for you," he said thoughtfully. "He's not just trying to sleep with you- you guys are actually friends. Ross on the other hand... I love him to bits, but I know the look on his face when he's looking for someone to keep his bed warm, and I don't appreciate him looking like that at my girlfriend..." Matty trailed off angrily. He looked up at me, shaking off his anger quickly, "Not that I can blame him," he said with a half-smile before falling back to a look of disappointment. "But the bloke hasn't even tried to get to know you."

I gave Matty a small half-smile back. 

"You know... he won't be able to get to know me unless you let him. That's kind of hard to do if you're staring daggers at him every time he approaches me," I scolded lightly.

Matty sighed in frustration. "I know, you're right... I'll do better. I promise," he assured me as he wrapped his arm around me. "I just wish he'd stop eye-fucking my girlfriend every time she enters the room..." he grumbled down at his shoes. Then he looked up at me, his eyebrows raised. "That's my job," he said with a half-smile, his eyes suddenly lit up. I couldn't help but laugh.

I reached up on my toes to kiss Matty gently, grateful at how receptive he was. His arm around me was tight, protective, but his lips were soft as he kissed me back tenderly, the moment meaningful. 

"I love you," he said quietly as he looked down at me, his energy now timid. I couldn't help but beam up at him.

"I love you more," I whispered back happily, my stomach tumbling as his eyes crinkled in response. We kissed once more, neither one of us wanting it to end, before finally following the group out to the cars.

[keishiko]

Come to think of it, GO2 was the first time we really got to know Az and Crowley. GO1 focused more on plot than the characters and didn’t ask viewers to particularly care about their foibles.

Crowley is a given. We viewers know evil, and he’s obviously not it. He’s meant to be cool and charming and rakish, we already know we’ll love him, he’s the underdog, aside from being played ofc by the David T. In GO2, we’re told—and shown—that he just goes along with Hell as far as he can, even if it can get a little lonely. Who could hate on that babygirl?

Aziraphale, on the other hand, was, at his worst—as recently as 1827–a self-satisfied rule-bound pompous git devoid of empathy or common sense, as many viewers know hidebound religious d!ckwads do go. Az is morally redeemed in viewers’ eyes only by his being adorably played by Michael Sheen, as well as an underlying genuine instinct toward kindness and compassion, which is blessedly independent of his heavily-invested group identity and—in part precisely because of this—carefully kept secret.

Fig. 5. Cognitive dissonance.

Some people predictably and doggedly hate and demonize Aziraphale over the GO2 ending.

But I have faith. Crowley the Already Fallen does go too fast for Az, who doesn’t have quite the head-start on spiritual growth but, no doubt, will catch up. The curtain falls on Act Two. Onward to 2026.

[ofallplaceswhythis]

tcoptp thoughts pt.11

tbh i dont even remember where I left off but i do know that 'padfoot' was born, sirius broke up chasity, james can hear colours [and he ISNT drunk while doing that] and.... (???)

but anyway - now im at 61, so, ig whatever was before that and after ch 59 is what i read (pretty sure but idec anymore)

holy fuck barty actually talks with his dad wowwwww

'your own closet is turning a bit see through' ily sirius

Why was bartyy so touchy about the whole 'liking remus' thing.....

'better then bad teeth' remus ily

stop stop stop i dont want angst PLS :(

yknow what, i didnt think it was possible, but I actually hate someone more than snape. FUCK YOU BARTY JUST YOU WAIT IM GONNA WRITE A 10 LINE INSULT ABOUT YOU TOO YOU SLIMY LITTLE GIT

Sheila and Remus are like Remus and Harry and thats-

....atleast they love each other?? :)

I mean the prank is great but wtf is happening [pls be brothers]

no no no no no not the swim, sirius please whyyyy

PLEASE TELL ME YOU GET THAT REMUS PLEASE

everytime i see sirius going 'too far' i break down. like why would you cause me this much pain on a Wednesday???

Im not reading this. sorry, but no. no fucking way. im a coward and im proud of it so its only the aftermath for me :<)

tbh it was kinda predictable that remus got doused in gore

no shut up the 'im a black through and through' will break me you don't understand

ooo personal memories sharing #2

fluff is the greatest thing in the world i literally cannot stop smiling thank u

SIRIUS IS PLAYING THE PIANO. YEYDGYG

remus saying 'youre glorious' to both tonya and Sirius saying that to him :")!! BUT Remus said that as a way of saying 'i love you', so does Sirius say that in the same way?? Am i analyzing too much?

THEY WERE GONNA DO SOMETHING!! THEY WERE GONNA DO SOMETHING AND IT GOT RUINED!! NO :(

[andrewducker]

One of the ways in which my brain seems to be different to other people's is that I find it much harder to learn a new thing to start with, and then much easier to end with.

Which is to say that if you ask me to remember a group of unconnected facts then absolutely none of them will sink in, and I will stare blankly at any tasks connected with it, unable to work out how to carry them out.

But once I work out *how* they are connected, and what the underlying system connecting them is, I then seem to be much more able to understand that system, and how to make it do things that others struggle with.

And so, for instance, I am terrible with names. Because names are a random collection of sounds with no meaning that connects them to a person, and so there's no way to connect the name to the person in my head. I just have to hear the name about 30 times before it finally sticks. (Or in the case of someone I've known, liked, and worked with for years up until 6 months ago, and then bumped into randomly at a bus stop I had to scroll back for months through WhatsApp messages until I found them.)

Or to give a more technical example - some people can memories 5 or 6 commands that they use all the time with Git, and then just churn them out when they need to use the particular piece of functionality they wanted. I absolutely cannot do that. I had to go and read multiple different explanations for what was happening under the surface until I understand what it was actually doing. And then making it do things was pretty trivial, I just had to find the command that would make it do what it was clearly designed to do.

There are clearly people out there like me, because otherwise people wouldn't be writing explanations aimed at, well, people like me. But I've never met anyone who's talked about thinking in that way. Which is a shame, because it used to stress me out a lot whenever I started learning anything new. I'd sit there in the class wondering how everyone was memorising all of these things, and feeling like I was an idiot who was never going to understand any of it, feeling horribly stressed that I would be found out. And then at some point it would click, and I'd whoosh ahead to doing better than everyone else. Except for those things that never clicked, of course.

One of the things that clicked with me very late was...people. And, specifically, myself. Which, I assume, is strongly connected to my autism. Lots of people seem to just memorise 753 arbitrary social rules and follow them. As I may have mentioned a few times above, I suck at that.

And so for a lot of my youth I felt like the world in general was a whirling cyclone of chaos. Things would happen, but not only did they make very little sense to me, I fundamentally didn't believe that sense could be made of them. I'd deal with the outside world enough to get what I needed, or when I was forced into it. And then I'd retreat back to the safety of a book, or a game - something which made sense, where you could tell why things were happening. Where, in the case of roleplaying games and computer games, there were nice hard rules about how the world worked, and what you could and couldn't do, and it was easy to understand wht was going on.

But at some point in my 20s, a collection of varying things I'd read over the previous decade started gluing themselves together into what you might call a theory of people. (There's absolutely no point me recommending any of them to other people, they're mostly wrong, out of date, or filled in gaps specific to me.)

The theory wasn't very good, it was full of stereotypes, and misapprehensions, and I doubt that more than a small percentage of it has survived to now. But once I had *a* theory of people, the world was no longer chaos - it was a thing I could examine, and make predictions about, and then take feedback from back to my theories when the predictions turned out to be badly wrong. It was something I could discuss, and argue about, and finesse whenever I had someone point out what utter nonsense I was talking. Until it became something which seems to work reasonably well most of the time (although I'm sure there is still wrongness lurking within).

However, even more than allowing me to understand the outside world, it made a massive difference to my understanding of *me*. At some point I realised that if my theories about people and how they acted were any good then they would also apply to me. And I changed from feeling like a being standing on the outside, observing to feeling like an inextricable part of what surrounded me. The change was so huge, internally, that I literally cannot explain what I was thinking before this point. In many ways it feels like I was not. I was reactive, and acting moment to moment, but I wasn't a mindful person making plans in the world to achieve things. My whole kind of consciousness changed, and the me from after that point can't make his thoughts fit inside the mind of the me from before that point - the two minds are such very different shapes. I have memories, but they're very much third-person "Here's what happened to that guy" type of memories.

Not that it was a single moment. I remember there being a period of at least a year, maybe longer, in my late 20s where I had a series of epiphanies. Not that any of them are that exciting, or that I have a good memory of any of them now - but there were so many moments where I realised that things that I believed just didn't match up with how the world actually was. Where it suddenly felt like the world fitted together in a different way to how it had a few moments before. It felt like I was working the kinks out of the tangled wires that made up my thought processes. And the mind at the end of that period felt quite different on the inside to the mind beforehand.

Which isn't to say that I haven't continued to find errors in my thinking - there was a very useful year of counselling I went through in my early thirties that helped me sort out a lot of things I was still carrying around. But it's (mostly) been a much smoother process since that point, and I can still put myself back in my shoes from anywhere past that point, and imagine what I was thinking, even if it was regularly something pretty stupid. It hasn't up-ended my world in quite the same way.

And, having had the recent autism diagnosis, I realised that this was something I'd just never talked about with anyone. Because it never seemed like it would be a useful thing to share, that it wouldn't connect with others at all. But I thought I'd give it a go, and see if it at least made sense to me when written down. And if it did, whether it made sense to anyone else.

[jmagnabo92]

HJP Week 6 - Brunchy Confessions

@harryjamespotterweek

Harry worries about telling the Weasleys that he and George are an item at their weekly brunch.

AO3

***

Harry’s a bit nervous as he gets ready for brunch with the Weasleys.  While he often had brunch with the Weasleys, and the awkwardness of his dating and breaking up with Ginny has passed, this brunch was different.  

Because he was going to be announcing that he and George have gotten together.  

What if they reacted badly?  

After all, it isn’t like Ginny had taken the breakup well, and neither had Ron.  Just because things were back on normal terms didn’t mean that they would be accepting of the situation with him and George.  Especially because even though they’ve been together for three months that didn’t exactly predict forever.  

What if he broke George’s heart, too?

He’s not sure that he could handle losing the Weasleys after all of this time, and he’s sure if he messed up with another Weasley that they’d ban him from ever stepping foot in the Burrow, again.

“Relax, Harry,” George says, coming up behind him and hugging him around the waist.  “They’re going to be okay with it.”

“You don’t know that,” Harry states.

“They love you,” George states.   “You’ve been a part of our family since we met the scrawny git lost on the train platform.  It’s going to be fine.”

Harry turns around to face him, wrapping his arms around his neck.  “Did you forget that it took months for Ron to forgive me for Ginny?  That Ginny wouldn’t even look at me after the war when I told her that I needed time?”

“No,” George states.  “But it’s been a decade – surely, you realize that things are different now.  Ron’s realized that Hogwarts love usually doesn’t last forever, and he’s happy with Lavender, but that only happened years after they were both adults in the real world.  Ginny, too, has managed to find a connection with one of her teammates, and isn’t pinning for you anymore.  Plus, didn’t she tell you last Christmas that she didn’t want you to hold yourself back from dating anyone just because of her?  That you deserved happiness, too?”

“Well, yeah, but I don’t think she included her brother in that,” Harry states, worriedly.  “What if they’re grossed out that I was with her and now I’m with you?”

“Have you met Purebloods?” George asks, jokingly.  “There’s not a lot about dating anyone that people would find weird.  I mean, I could probably date Fred and people wouldn’t blink an eye.”

“You’ve thought about dating a corpse?”

George gives him a look.  “Of course not, I meant if we were both still alive, I could probably get away with dating him if I wanted – it just so happens that he’s not my type.”

“Oh yeah?  And who is your type?”

“You – you dunce,” George says, giving him a kiss.  “Now, come on – we’re going to be late.”

Harry takes a deep breath and sighs.  “Alright, let’s get this over with.”

“It’s going to be fun; you’ll see.”

“Sure, I will.”

***

Despite George’s assurances, when the dessert comes out and he says, “Lovely, brunch, mum.  Now, there’s something that I want to share with you all.”

Harry can’t help looking over at him like ‘like this, really?’ which George ignores.  

“I know this may come as a shock to all of you, but I’ve been seeing someone –”

“Yeah, Harry,” Ron states, cutting across him.  

“Old news, bro,” Ginny adds. 

George looks as shocked as Harry feels as they both look around the table at the other Weasleys present for lunch – none of them look surprised.  

“Wait, you know?” Harry questions.  

“Well, yeah,” Ginny says as if it should’ve been obvious.  “I mean – we’ve known something was brewing for a while, but I figured that after everything, you’d be a little more cautious.  Why do you think I told you at Christmas to go be with whoever you wanted?”

Harry opens and closes his mouth several times, still very confused.  

George, meanwhile, is smiling.  “I told you that it would be alright.”

“I – I just… I don’t understand.”

Both Ron and Ginny are laughing at his confusion, so Bill explains.  “The two of you have been giving each other interested looks for the last year.  Plus, you’ve been helping out at the shop and spending a lot of time together… it was only a matter of time before you got together.”

“But after what happened with Ginny, we figured that was holding you back,” Charlie states.  “So, Bill and I figured that we could talk to Gin about it, and low and behold, she was already trying to figure out how to tell you to go for it and stop worrying about the past.”

“Which I eventually did, and then, it was just a bet to see how long it took for you two to get together and then come out so-to-speak,” Ginny states.  

“And I win!” Ron says, smiling.  “With both – you two got together not even a week after Ginny told you to go for it with whoever and you came out at Brunch right before George’s birthday.  I figured that he wouldn’t want to be denied his birthday affections from his boyfriend, hence coming out today.”

Harry can’t help laughing.  “I can’t believe this – you were betting on us?”

“Why, yes, we were,” Charlie says, handing Ron two galleons.  “In fact, I think we were all contemplating a little cheating to win – you couldn’t have done it two weeks ago?  I thought you were so close…”

George laughs.  “Harry’s just been a little nervous but agreed to today because of my birthday coming up in a week.”

“Well, for the record, you didn’t have to be nervous,” Arthur offers.  “We just want our children – which includes you – to be happy, Harry.”

“Yes, exactly,” Molly states, grinning gleefully.  “And we can see just how happy you two are together, so we’re more than happy to support you both.”

Harry smiles.  “Thank you, everyone.  That takes a load off my mind.”

George smiles and brings his hand to his lips to kiss it.  “See, brunch was the answer.”

Harry hums.  “Definitely was.”

[eriexplosion]

My reward for getting my new apartment keys is finally getting to watch Ahsoka and I'm still just. So utterly delighted by Ezra's entire presence.

Saying "SHE DID? WHY?" to Sabine revealing that Ahsoka was training her absolutely fucking sent me into orbit. I love him so much.

THREEPIO SHOWING UP <3 He was a breath of fresh air after how mad THESE PEOPLE MAKE ME. Truly the New Republic is dedicated to doing the Least at every given opportunity.

Seriously never will they stand accused of doing anything remotely helpful.

I love Anakin's training holograms, and of course he left them behind Just In Case. I'm sure that he saw how hard Obi-Wan struggled immediately after losing Qui-Gon, I am convinced that the thought of doing the same to Ahsoka one day Haunted him. Of course, the circumstances he could never have predicted, but...

Every time I see the Noti I squeal they're so fucking cute look at those little GUYS.

Okay Baylan leaving Shin behind got me Emotional. He sounds so wistful telling her to take her place in the coming Empire. Proud of her but also sad. Whatever he's planning will probably render this galaxy obsolete either destroying her with everyone else or making it so she never existed depending on what path this takes, but he does care about her.

Makes me wonder how this plays into the overall themes - he cares about her, but is able to detach from that for what he thinks is the greater good. I wonder if he ever did think about letting go of this plan that seems to be years in the making, considered letting himself find actual fulfillment in being a master and teaching his padawan, only to make himself pull away from it for the good of the overall plan. Versus Sabine going after Ezra no matter what, because saving your loved ones over everything has been baked into Star Wars ever since Luke fucked off to save Han and Leia purely because he cared about them.

This is swimming in something approaching coherency but hasn't quite gotten there yet. I'm just emotional about the wars in the stars again and absolutely fucked up about how much I like Baylan as a character.

I love Sabine's reaction to Shin being just. *SIGHS* THIS LADY AGAIN. I want them to try and stab each other again and then Kiss.

No need to land! Oh not this again... YES THIS AGAIN. Ahsoka really is her master's apprentice.

GOD THE LITTLE FIGHT BETWEEN EZRA AND SABINE OVER WHO TAKES THE LIGHTSABER IS SO FUNNY. He's right though. He very much did not need it. I guess when you have nothing to do for a decade but train in weaponless fighting you Git Gud real fast.

I loveeee the effect on the lightsaber when he blocks it just with the force.

Ahsoka really swooped in like YOU ARE LIKE LITTLE BABY WATCH THIS and kicked Shin's scrawny ass huh

Ten seconds later she's offering to help her like trying to rescue a hissy kitten she found in the garbage. I love Ahsoka <3

GODDD THE WAY SHE HAS OPENED UP THOUGH. MY GIRLLLLLL.

Ezra holding the little Noti's hand's got me squealy I cannot fucking take these little crab babies.

HEY BAYLAN YOU HAVE ONE EPISODE LEFT I HOPE YOU PLAN TO EXPLAIN YOURSELF AT SOME POINT DURING IT.

[karla-the-elemental-dreamer]

What started as a strategic discussion ended up with thoughts about Lulu.

Cricket has changed a lot since the last time that the outside has heard from him:

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

Cricket (DG): "I just thought that by talking to Mona, I'd see if there was a way to get through to [J (my friend)] a bit more, seeing as though they're the same personality type. Or at least just to know what we're working with. And... I forgot to mention; we bumped into 18-Volt on the streets, so he came with us too".

Me: "You don't sound too keen about the idea of 18-Volt".

Cricket (DG): "Well he is annoying, and we do have our differences, but I guess we both know you really well now and that's an interest that he and I share in common. Plus I guess it's admirable for you to call my judgments out, just like you tell your father to respect [G] even though he doesn't agree with him...".

Me: "That does beg the question; would you attempt to make it up with Lulu as it were?".

Cricket (DG): "Uhh... I'm not too sure if I'd be comfortable doing that? I just think the age difference is not very appropriate; and with how young she is, she doesn't understand that herself. It's like the situation with you and [A]. See Lulu has some sort of heightened attachment to me, so even if I give her just a bit of myself, she'll take it all the way to a hundred. And I just can't handle that".

Me: "How about to make peace with her more for yourself? Like for the sake of your soul so to speak".

Cricket (DG): "I get it. To make amends with those who I've hurt through my weaknesses. My point still stands that she's not mature enough to respect boundaries yet. So I don't want to let her in on everything about myself. But I certainly have no problem being friendly to her within Warioware as a whole, or at least in a controlled environment where someone can pull her in a bit or just be there with us".

Me: "That makes sense. Like to make it nothing more than an informal relationship".

Cricket (DG): "Precisely!".

Me: "My question is, then, what do you do to clear your conscience for the Illumination ... ?".

Cricket (DG): "Oh gosh that's a hard one. I could always take it to RE class with Mrs. McGraw and write a prayer to be forgiven as it were. And then maybe going forward, I'm simply not as rough with Lulu and try to be more straightforward with her if I need to. Spending time with you has certainly helped me work on my patience as well as the fact that it's okay to be honest sometimes and tell someone the truth. It's just that confidence that I need to exude within myself all while being humble at the same time".

Me: "And maybe when Lulu sees a difference in you, she might back off. Remember that your insecurities are the gateway to repeated suffering. Heck she might even be shocked and put off by the change, and that you're no longer any fun to mess with".

Cricket (DG): "Heh, that would be interesting to say the least, but perhaps a little scary for me too".

Me: "Because you're used to the trauma loop".

---

Extra trivia: Cricket AND 18-Volt were both supposed to my Warioware dream guides way before WW-GiT came out... So how on Earth did my soul predict that WW-GiT intro sequence? 🤯

Cricket was actually supposed to be the first dream guide, but I didn't have the maturity (/compass drive) to connect with him before 2020.

So I moved on to Jimmy T as my second choice, BUT! Somehow during Warioware Gold, I got his graphics confused with 18-Volt's, and that's how it started off with 18-Volt in 2018. By the time I realised it was 18-Volt and not Jimmy, it was too late 😅.

Cricket was forgone and I actually interacted with him the least, if not 'zero', in 18-Volt's time of dominance. But somehow in mid-2024, Cricket was sent to me by Master Mantis 😳 and now the blue Kung Fu boy is dominant today.

Summary: The original blueprint was Cricket and Jimmy. I got Cricket and 18-Volt. The WW-GiT blueprint is Cricket and 18-Volt.

---

1. Cricket supposed to enter at WWG release.

2. Silence (crickets) -> 2nd choice transferred to Jimmy T.

3. I confused Jimmy T as 18-Volt.

4. Contract initiated with 18-Volt = too late.

5. Relationship with 18-Volt developed from 2018 to 2020.

6. After 2020, stressful situations required more mature dream guides. Didn't think I'd hear from Warioware again after 18-Volt became jealous and dropped.

7. Cricket came out of nowhere in 2024; not until 2025 that relationship was recognised and amended. Return to 'karmic/ōriginal' DG.

8. Now that Warioware has influence again, 18-Volt contributes at times as an aid to Cricket.

Perhaps the time delay was needed or Cricket would never agree to being a DG. His master was observing me all this time, since the entrance 18-Volt (and therefore the Warioware community).

---

The WW-GiT sequence was imprinted when 18-Volt erroneously signed instead of Jimmy.

[sibrary]

Rave, rave against the dying of the brat

A Charli xcx concert and it’s the same but there’s creative curveballs so it’s not.

The map says Barclays Center is located at the corner of Flatbush and Atlantic Avenues but last weekend it was more like bratbush and bratlantic. (Hell yeah. I regret nothing.)

Gen Z women in long leather coats, short skirts, and Y2K shades swarmed the area. Local bars hawked radioactive-green ‘brataritas.’ In the arena, corporate partner Dove doled out samples of their whole-body deodorant because an exec must have realized the #synergy between coke-fueled raves and comprehensive odor control.

For all the excitement, you could almost miss that this was a farewell party, the last of Charli xcx’s sold-out run of four Brooklyn shows and the end of the brat tour. But in keeping with the wild inventiveness of its namesake album, this concert really knew how to put the ‘fun’ in funeral.

From the moment it dropped in June 2024, brat kept boldly and admirably asking “why not?” Why couldn’t an album cover just be this annoying lime green + a font that looked straight-up bad? What if — between club bangers about looking really hot — the lyrics could dip into feeling weird about your friendship with a fellow popstar, or generational trauma (with a cute TikTok dance!), or the fear that you might miss the window on motherhood? What if the album itself wasn’t a locked-down collection of songs but a starting point, one that other artists could build on, eventually leading to a (maybe just as good) remix album?

For all the cable news chatter about what ‘brat’ meant, the best thing about it - as album and ethos - was that it was never ever boring. The concert? Same.

Exhibit A: We entered the brat-mosphere immediately

Most shows, there’s a predictable rhythm to the opening-act portion.

• Arrive to brightly lit arena. Glance around at jerseys hanging from ceiling and ads for local businessess.

• Watch an act you don’t care much about.

• Cheer when they ask if you’re excited for the headliner. Kill another 30 mins before headliner plays.

At the brat show, you entered Charli World right away. As soon as the doors opened, warmup act Finn Keane was playing a DJ set of brat remixes and Charli-adjacent dance tunes. The lights stayed down the whole time as attendees started snapping so, so many IG photos. (I feel like they must teach posing and 'knowing your angles' in pre-school now, such was the youths' proficiency.) No Charli fan had to feel even for a moment like they were trespassing in a (vomit emoji) sports facility.

Exhibit B: Artificiality was its own kind of realness

To me, a concert is just more organic, human, immediate, exciting (okay, better) with a live band. So when a performer emerges solo, singing to a backing track - as Charli did - my ‘this seems fake!’ alarm gets tripped. My little Arthur-the-Aardvark fist starts to clench and shake.

But at this show, a switch flipped. Instead of thinking about what I was losing from the solo setup, I considered what I was gaining. What was she saying with that choice? And I think the answer was something like: “Oi, bruv. Look at my complete and total confidence as I hold this arena of 19,000 people who love me in the palm of my hand with nothing more than my banging songs, relentless energy, and amazing sound system. Innit. Also, I didn’t write these chunes with live instruments, so why would I perform them that way? Bloody git. Sod off. Chimney sweeps.”

And she completely pulled off all of the above. (And made a good point in that last sentence, I thought.)

The lack of bandmates and instruments didn’t make the show any less "real." It still had the in-the-moment excitement of a more organic show — but one where all the pressure to deliver falls exclusively on one person. Eep. The fact that she could keep the energy and showmanship up the entire time? Insane. To paraphrase some of her stage banter, she really was ‘that bitch.’

Exhibit C: Is the cure for bad phone etiquette at concerts… more phones?

Like, probably not. Phones have a million percent, without a doubt, made concerts worse. AND YET: I felt less mad about phones at the Charli xcx show than I have at any other concert in recent years. It was weird! Maybe it was because everybody was shooting a video or photo on their phone - off and on - throughout the show. The phones felt so omnipresent that they almost weren’t there at all. (Is this what it feels like to be Gen Alpha?) 

What probably also helped: the fans’ affection for Charli xcx was so palpable and off the charts. Frequent phone use at a concert doesn't read as disrespectful when the offending party is clearly super-psyched to be there and singing along to every song.

Stray observations:

• Has Charli secretly been Andrew W.K. the whole time? When a massive banner with the word “PARTY!” dropped during the beat-heavy outro of “365” and remained for “party 4 u,” I realized the brat philosophy might be a generational echo of Andrew W.K.s early 2000s positive “party til u puke” mentality. Factor in the letter-heavy surnames of “W.K. and “xcx” and it gets eerie. All I’m saying is I’ve never seen them in the same place at the same time.

• If there were any sponsors of anti-trans bathroom bills at the show (unlikely), they would have had fainting spells over the number of cis women invading men’s rooms to cheat the long women’s lines. Gender anarchy fr.

• The lighting and staging were really impressive; totally of a kind with the brat album's spare design aesthetic. A few simple backdrops. Some lighting rigs that popped off at just the right moments in the songs. It felt like a strategic and badass counterpoint to the visual excess of concerts lately, or screen-centric venues like The Sphere. It wasn't quite “punk” stripped-down, but definitely lean, mean, and considered.

• Man, the absolute excitement (and scream volume) that the girls, gays, and theys can achieve when they love a popstar is just a delight. This show was the closest I think I’ll ever come to witnessing Beatlemania.

• I like to think my elder millennial ass still has some cool left in the tank but then Charli xcx sang “you’re from the ’70s / but I’m a ’90s bitch" and I realized that today the lyric would be “you’re from the ’80s / but I’m a ’00s bitch." It immediately felt like Charli was firing a hail of Luigi-esque bullets in my general direction, all inscribed with the phrase “u old.”

• As the green Brooklyn cabs lined the street after the show, you could almost hear them declare "sheeeit. We've been brat."