#this is a grand reveal to say that i am british

[sessalover]

pre-baftas

pairing: dominic sessa x reader

genre: fluff, teasing of a smut pt.2

——————

the smell of hair products and aftershave filled your senses as you opened the door to the hotel room. it wasn’t your boyfriend’s normal smell, but it was comforting, and you could tell he was here anyway - the hallway was lined with his pair of dirtied white shoes and the sound of whatever game he was playing on his switch was playing throughout the room.

“dom?” you called out.

“oh my god, you’re here!” he exclaimed, poking his head round the corner of the wall.

“dom!” you cried, slipping your own shoes off and running over to him.

he was sat in an armchair, his stylist working on his makeup, his curls already styled tightly on his head.

“do not ruin my work,” she warned, smiling slightly at the look on both your faces.

you hadn’t seen dom in months, the gruelling but glamorous process of award shows kept dom all over america, while you were kept in england, watching with a growing sense of pride.

dom stood up, wrapping his arms around you while you were careful not to touch his hair or his freshly made up face (except for the carefully placed kiss upon his lips), he kissed your head, drinking you in.

“i missed you,” he smiled, sitting back down as you sat on the bed, letting his stylist get back to work.

“i missed you too,” you chuckled, “where’s your mum?”

even though he’d been in england for a couple of days already, you’d left him and his mum to sightseeing round london. but now, with the baftas happening this evening, it meant you had him to yourself for the next week.

“she’s in the next room,” he said, before leaning in close, his mouth next to your ear to whisper, “i made sure we had a room to ourselves.”

you giggled, pushing him away.

“she’s got her own team of stylists working on her currently,” dom smiled, looking happy he could provide this experience for her.

you held his lower arm, keeping it wrapped around yours, down until your intertwined hands, “is she excited?”

“yeah! i mean, i think she’s proud of me. she keeps telling me so, at least. but she’s going to the baftas! she has to be excited!”

“are you excited?” you asked, stroking his arm gently. your heart was basically beating out your chest for him, you can’t imagine how he was feeling.

“yeah!” he nodded, his leg bobbing up and down, “i’m nervous too.”

“of course you are!” you laughed, supportingly, “you’d be crazy if you weren’t. but you’ve done great, dom, that’s all you need to remember. award or none.”

he smiled, staring into your eyes with thanks; not wanting to get too sappy in front of the other people in the room, you supposed.

as well as his stylist completing his make-up, people from ysl were steaming his suit, ready for the red carpet. the hotel room was full of people working to prettify him, and dom often got embarrassed of it all; you knew so from the snaps he’d continuously send to you before other award shows.

“okay, i’m all done here,” his stylist smiled, wiping her hands down as she began to pack her stuff away.

dom looked to you, his eyebrows raised and a muted smile on his face. you were still holding onto his arm as he laid his hand on your thigh, “i’m really glad you’re here.”

before you could respond, he was dragged up and shoved into the en-suite, his suit to change into in hand. watches, shoes, and various jewellery options were spread around the room, you glanced over them all and exchanged polite goodbyes with the people from ysl as you waited.

you looked up as the door opened again, and out came dom; black velvet covering his arms and legs, the jacket done up as he strode out the room.

“how do i look?” he smiled, stretching his arms out to display the outfit to you.

your mouth hung open in delighted shock as you moved towards him, arms reaching out towards him, “you look gorgeous.”

you felt down the arms of the jacket, smiling at the quality of the outfit.

“nice, right?” he chuckled.

“red shirt too? this is nice!”

“wait, look,” dom said, stepping back and undoing the buttons, flicking back his jacket to reveal his sheer red shirt.

“oh my god,” you said, eyeing him up, “the tattoo on display? the chest on display?! dom you look…”

“what?” dominic said, looking nervous of your next words.

“i don’t even know, just the best i’ve ever seen you,” you smiled, walking over and hanging onto his jacket “…so sexy.”

dominic laughed, embarrassed, before changing the subject, “i don’t really know what accessories to do.”

“what about your cornicello necklace?” you asked, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck; his hands automatically resting on your waist.

“i mean they brought me all these new accessories,” he said, trailing off.

“yeah but then you’ve got it with you! for good luck,” you smiled.

“you’re right,” dominic nodded, “i don’t need anything else. i got my mum, my girl, and my good luck charm.”

he leaned down, kissing your cheeks, your nose, and your lips; all as softly as possible, the smell of his aftershave intoxicating you. god, he looked good.

“you’re gonna do amazing,” you smiled, holding onto his jacket again as you looked into his eyes.

he nodded, his signature intense look on his face.

before you could say anything else, the two of you were interrupted by his manager opening the door and sticking her head round, “dominic? we’re ready for you now.”

“that means they want me to go immediately,” he whispered in your ear, leaving another kiss on your cheek as you pulled away from each other, “you okay here?”

“oh this luxery hotel room being paid for by someone else? yeah i think it’ll do,” you said, jumping onto the bed. dom began to leave, but continued to hold onto your hand.

“goodbye.”

“bye, dom.”

“bye.”

“go, dom,” you laughed, sitting up, “you’re going to be amazing. and win or lose, i’ll be here waiting for you after.”

“dom, come on!” his manager urged.

dom smirked, leaning forward to give you one last kiss, before stopping next to your ear, “i can’t wait, little darling.”

[zot3-flopped]

Two months prior to its release, would-be doyens of Swift’s Tortured Poets Department have taken its barbed track listing very literally, leading to intense, often nefarious speculation regarding Swift’s six-year relationship with the British actor Joe Alwyn, which seemingly ended in early 2023.

The album’s title, revealed onstage at the Grammy awards, was quickly linked to a December, 2022 interview with Alwyn and Paul Mescal in which they revealed that Andrew Scott started their group chat, the Tortured Man Club. (“It hasn’t had much use recently,” Alwyn said: you wonder if it’s undergone a recent revival.) Swift revealed the leading track list a day later: My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys, So Long, London, I Can Do It With a Broken Heart, The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived, to name a few, sending fans wild with speculation.

Swift, obviously, has every right to sing about her relationships however she wants to (no apologies to Eamonn Holmes). But in the absence of any music, some fans have spread baseless, dangerous and even libellous allegations about Alwyn’s conduct (which, for obvious reasons, I can’t repeat).

Last month, a brief fan-shot video of them dining in a New Orleans restaurant in December, 2022 was recirculated online with AI-doctored audio that made it sound as though Alwyn is saying “you don’t get to tell me about sad,” a line printed on the back of one of the new album’s four physical editions.

When Swift recently told a crowd that she was “lonely” when writing her 2020 album Folklore – some of which was co-written with Alwyn during the pandemic, a lonely time for most – fans took that as further confirmation of their theories. A live medley of three songs that all appear to reference cheating threw petrol on the fire.

Swift could make this stop. She is no stranger to airing her displeasure with the likes of Ticketmaster, Scooter Braun, Spotify and Apple Music, and, occasionally, politicians. Before she released Speak Now (Taylor’s Version) last year, she gave a veiled speech at one Eras tour date effectively asking fans not to go after John Mayer, whom she dated when she was 19 and he was 32 and is understood to be the subject of that album’s Dear John.

“I am not putting this album out so you should feel the need to defend me on the internet against someone you think I wrote a song about 14m years ago when I was 19,” she said in Minneapolis.

But for whatever reason – and obviously, no member of the public has any idea what transpired between her and Alwyn so far – this time she has opted to stay quiet.

Establishing a baseline for conduct is neither commercially risky nor unprecedented: just last week, Ariana Grande said, after the release of her post-divorce album Eternal Sunshine: “Anyone that is sending hateful messages to the people in my life based on your interpretation of this album is not supporting me and is absolutely doing the polar opposite of what I would ever encourage”.

It feels like the endgame of a cat-and-mouse act that’s gone too far. Swift’s gestures towards meaning have led every single thing she does to be considered a kind of marketing, a clue to be solved. It leaves a superstar who’s usually hot on her messaging open to misinterpretation: hints about her personal life are turned by some fans into witch-hunts for anyone perceived to have wronged her; her current silence on politics allows politicians to invoke her name, from the New South Wales police commissioner quoting Swift’s anti-haters lines while defending police to Joe Biden joking that the matter of her apparently much sought-after endorsement is “classified” on Late Night With Seth Meyers.

When Swift made a blandly neutral handwritten post encouraging US citizens to register to vote on Super Tuesday, some fans speculated that her unusual left-leaning handwriting was the real indication of her loyalties – suggesting they’re so starved of substance that they’re reading into empty messages because of this dynamic she has established. (The more likely explanation is the insane way she holds a pen.)

For Swift to only direct fans as to her wishes when it suits her, it weakens her status as a truth-teller. If the comparisons with Dickinson mean anything, she might remember that nothing in the world has as much power as a word feels like the endgame of a cat-and-mouse act that’s gone too far.

[goffilolo]

Adramelech theory time

Does anyone want to know a theory I have? no? Well, that's too bad you're getting it anyway.

Based on demonology Adramelech tried to gain worship as a sun god, alongside his sibling Anamelech who was considered a moon diety.

Does that sound familiar? Does that sound perhaps like Spade's royal family magic? Am I implying that all royals are shit regardless of the country and have a hobby of boosting their own power by stealing it from others? I sure am.

So here's the situation. Grinberyalls pulled the exact same shit as Silvamillions, except with devil magic. It's implied that the spade people know more about devils than they initially let on, Ciel included, so I wouldn't be surprised if they did some fuck ass ritual to steal Adramelech and his brother's attributes specifically.

But wait, you may say. Haven't we seen in canon that Adramelech can resist Lucifero's gravity and still has supreme devil levels of magic? He sure does and here's the catch. What he initially lost is an ATTRIBUTE, not mana itself. Kinda like Ladros who was born with no attribute at all.

Also the timing of WHEN the Grinberyalls became the ruling family with their magic is a little unclear. I'm even willing to go out on a limb and imply that it was around the time of when the first Qlipoth happened. Either they caught Adramelech and his brother during the 2nd gate opening and obtained his magic then OR the first Qlipoth was the responce to having their supreme devil's magic stolen by humans sometime before.

(Also not fully related to this theory, but I imagined that the first Qlipoth failed because it was sabotaged from the inside by Astaroth, who did not wish for human's extermination).

How does any of that relate to Adramelech working with Lucius? Well what if Lucius promised him to get rid of all of Grinberyalls in his grand plan, knowing that Adramelech and Anamelech would not get their full attributes back until the last Grinberyall is dead and thus the attributes can no longer be passed on to any further relatives?

My other idea was that Astaroth is tied into it more closely than initially shown. Maybe even having initally contracted Lucius, allowing him to use the power of prophecy as much as he pleases, on the condition that he can arrange the sun and moon magic to be returned to their original owners. If that is the case, then the spade coup may have been orchestrated by him before his disappearance, as killing all royal family members would release the attributes.

This brings me to my final point, the one that I think will result in Yuno stans hunting me down for sport, but here we go. Yuno is like the british empire, the culmination of stolen shit.

Wind magic? doesn't belong to him, it belongs to a soul of dead half-elf fetus that sits in his body and I'm pretty sure Bell was asleep for so long because she was supposed to be guardian spirit to that fetus when it grew up, but instead was in time out for 500 yeas until a twink shows up who just so happened to have the fetus soul living in him rent-free.

Star magic? Literally a result of stealing 2 devil attributes, followed by centuries of royal incest to ensure the celestial magic stays in the family. Sorry to burst your bubble, all royals are inbred, yes even your favourites. If Tabata wants to play loose canon with borrowing vague references from medieval Europe, so will I.

And you know what? From storytelling perspective it would be hysteric! The dude beloved by mana? The skinny legend that is stacking up magical buffs like a jenga tower? To reveal that all of his 'blessings' were not in fact blessings but came at the expense of somebody else? ALL OF THEM? This would be delicious. This would finally give us the relevant narrative parallel to Asta who has acknowledged long time ago that the power he wields is not his and did not even hesitate to try and give his grimoire away to the original owner.

[siremasterlawrence]

BHAFTA Part 1

British Hypnosis Academy Of Television and Film Arts has a feverish premiere week after a strange young man infiltrated the grand ole academy for the longterm and so many changes have happened. The school has been rebranded with a new lifestyle training Academy I have a new type of training to install in the students and my plan has to get going to be unfurled out of controlled.I made a list of British actors who came to my aid after the announcement saying it’s good for change and I approached many of them starting with the former man of mystery James Bond.

The red carpet rolls out ultra plush towards The Academy who will relaunch a million careers and spring forth a thousand more with a simple trigger word everyone who signs this contract will be at my mercy to mold. Daniel Craig’s limo parks as the door swings open revealing the man of martini shaken not stirred, he takes a step forward hand ready to shake mine as I grab it shaking it fiercely with one hand and offering out my other hand.A contract with a quilt pen laying on it in a magical fashion he picks up and beginning to sign a contract without reading it at all in excitement because he felt utter compelled to do so because he felt so deeply in need of him.The crowd electrically erupting in a baffle of excitement roars up in to the air streaking from wall to wall with screams hitting brand new heights and hitting new ridiculous levels as his mind is shook to the core as we shook firmly. The fiery minute we touch hands as we set something so embedded inside of him it is lit much like a match stick with a forest fire metastasizing throughout his body and without any bit of effort he succumbs.The light in his pupils erasing from existence fading into the anonymity of time and space forever into the void and eventually he left totally empty devoid of anything except for all that I command. Taking control leading him to the side of The BHAFTA Academy as we snuck into the true massively gigantic building in the Great City of London and we enter the side doors avoid every fan and photographer pinning him in to the wall. Pressing my body on the wall we go skin to skin matching every inch and crevice before we kiss a little leading to a longterm make our season because we fell deeply in love for each other. I place his back on to the wall putting in a few codes as he stares at me mindlessly swallowing his body in to the wall as he spun to the side and the walls open up as he drops down a slide.

“OI Mate! You super seeded to the head of the academy.” Tom Hardy calls to me.

“Can I help you Tom?”

“I am interested “

“Would you like to have a conversation?”

“Bloody yeah!”

“Wait for me in that small inclosure “

“Yes sure “

“Don’t interrupt us”

“Yes sir”

“Please pitch “

“I am Tom Hardy and I think I could be that spokesperson.”

“Well Daniel Craig is interested “

“Against me? I don’t think so”

“Cocky huh?”

“What if I am?”

“No! You are not !”

“Excuse me!”

“You are insecure “

“Now listen here”

“Or what punk?”

“What’s going on?”

“The door is closing”

“The lights are flickering off”

“Ssshhhh!”

“Don’t shush me”

“Zip it Hardy”

“Focus on your life “

“It flashes back and forth “

“Enter my school”

“You are hired “

“Tom Ellis”

“Where is Hardy?”

“He’s busy “

“My new spokesperson “

“That was insanely quick”

“Bloody hell!”

“Cheeky”

“Am I?”

“So unfair “

“Why?”

“Did you want it?”

“Maybe possibly “

“Well I have to go”

“No! STOP!”

“Baby please “

“Fuck me!”

“Excuse me”

“Let me prove it “

“Are you stripping?”

“Now you are naked “

“Oh My!”

“Say it”

“Goodness “

“Oh come on!”

“What?”

“Swear it!”

“Hmmm”

“Fuck”

“Much better “

“Worship me”

Andrew Garfield is the next to approaches me in a heat of lust, love and desire to begin following me to the balcony and shutting the door after he enters. He smirks at me with this red fiery rage inside of him calling to me

he stood so tall in the brush of the moon light of white decadence. I lay my right hand

on him wrapping the other over his shoulder as we dance to the silvery moon tapping his shoulders tightly and we kiss a few more moments.

“Woah! Hey! How are you doing this?”

“Making me swoon over you “

“Swoon over me?”

“Yeah babe”

“I don’t know you “

“My movies “

“I’ve seen some”

“And?”

“I loved them”

“Hell yes!”

“You are so sweet”

“Let me lift you up “

“Swoop you off of your feet”

“Hug you tight “

“Kiss you sweetly “

“Be your man”

“Take my hand “

“Love you “

“Will you serve me Andrew?”

“With my all”

“I give you my body “

“What a specimen”

“My mind”

“So easy to mind alter “

“Your life “

“Wonderful to sculpt “

“Whatever you wish!”

“Strip me please “

“I am all”

“Yes Master”

“Hey Tom! Say Cheese!”

The end

[glass-needles-and-futurisms]

I keep thinking back to Muse playing Survival at the closing ceremonies of the 2012 London Olympics, and I keep saying that one of these days I'm just gonna spew all my feelings about how it's not just one of my all-time favorite Muse moments, but also a hilarious, if perhaps unintentional, moment of social commentary.

I still remember our postgrad professor showing those same closing ceremonies in class, explaining the not-so-subtle propagandistic purpose the entire spectacle served on the global stage. (For those who don't know, the 2012 Olympics closing ceremonies were essentially a three-hour star-studded tribute to UK music and pop culture.)

Picture this: you just sat through about two hours of the UK's various national exports - One Direction, the Spice Girls, the Pet Shop Boys, George Michael, Ed Sheeran, Annie Lennox, erm, Russell Brand. You've just seen live performances of Bohemian Rhapsody, Imagine, Wonderwall, and Always Look on the Bright Side of Life, alongside tributes to David Bowie and Freddie Mercury. And you still have Queen, Take That and The Who to go after this.

Interestingly, that class glossed over what an afterthought the Muse performance felt like by comparison. You could argue a lot of extenuating circumstances: the controversial reception of Survival as the official London Olympics theme song, the infamous NBC debacle where it inadvertently got cut from the US broadcast of the ceremonies, or the simple fact that this far into the festivities, a fairly straightforward stage performance* by a band with slightly less name recognition than Coldplay was pretty underwhelming.

* Not sure if this is common knowledge, but apparently this performance was mostly playback with the exception of Matt's vocals. Which also makes this an underappreciated entry in the annals of Muse miming shenanigans.

But something becomes very apparent once you actually reach this part of the show: Survival is fucking bananas. I'll never forget that one internet commenter calling it the world's most epic villain song that doesn't know it's a villain song. I mean, just look at the lyrics:

Life's a race / and I am gonna win

And I'll light the fuse / and I'll never lose

And I choose to survive / whatever it takes

You won't pull ahead / I'll keep up the pace

And I'll reveal my strength / to the whole human race

This is how the song starts! You can sort of see the logic behind making it the Olympics theme song. And then it gets weirder from there:

Yes, I am prepared / to stay alive

I won't forgive / the vengeance is mine

And I won't give in / because I choose to thrive

Yeah, I'm gonna wiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin

Good grief. No wonder it's called "Survival". The song makes slightly more sense in the thematic context of The 2nd Law, the album it was released on. But on its own it's just.... yeah.

And this performance ramps up the insanity even more by just taking the piss. Between Matt Bellamy peacocking in a sparkly suit and Union Jack t-shirt, the batshit guitar solo, the pyro, the backing choir, and the fact that everything onstage (including the grand piano) is pretty much just for show (and wobbling like mad), Survival feels cheesy and irreverent in a way that makes you suddenly hyper-conscious of how tightly orchestrated everything else you just saw (including the Monty Python and Mr. Bean stuff) was. Remember that this was all broadcast to an international audience of millions.

Pairing the sheer pageantry of the ceremonies thus far with the actual lyrics of Survival kinda puts everything in an uncomfortable new light. Then it dawns on you that you pretty much just watched an accidental three-hour love letter to British imperialism. (Okay maybe that's overselling it a bit but it's still pretty funny.)

[otmaaromanovas]

Hey. I was wondering what your favourite books about OTMA/The Romanovs are? I have read quite a few and I’m looking for new recommendations. I love your posts btw :)

Hiya! Thanks for your question.

As you said you have read quite a few books about the Romanovs and want new recommendations, I'll try and think of some of the less common/more obscure books I've read, which I don't see talked about too much!

Once a Grand Duchess by John van der Kiste and Coryne Hall

Admittedly, this book sometimes reads like a long wikipedia page, but has some very interesting information on Xenia Alexandrovna. If you are interesting in the British royal family and their history, the second half of the book has some great info on Xenia's stay at Frogmore Cottage and Hampton Court

The False Anastasia by Pierre Gilliard and Constantine Savitch

Written half by Gilliard and half by Savitch, it combines some of Pierre Gilliard's memories of Anastasia and the Romanovs with debunking the Anna Anderson myth. Some great work here on Anderson's actual identity. However, I will warn you straight away that if you do get this book in its English translation, the translator Edgar A. Lucidi is VERY antisemitic. Throughout the book, he goes to great pains to try and say that Anastasia survived, and has a whole preface about it, including photos of him posing with a pretender. It's frustrating and insulting, especially when he makes actual notes in the text trying to 'debunk' Gilliard and Savitch's writing. I'm recommending this book purely because of what Pierre Gilliard and Constantine Savitch have written, which is very interesting and revealing. If you can read French (I definitely can't!) it's worth getting the original.

Tutor to the Tsarevich by John C. Trewin and Charles Sydney Gibbes

This book is FANTASTIC and really underrated! It's more of a coffee table format, with plenty of photos, but has some really fantastic information. It has a lot of Gibbes' original writings and reflections, published for the first time I believe. Some great anecdotes about Tobolsk and some rare photos of Gibbes and his life after the Romanovs.

The Romanovs & Mr Gibbes: The Story of the Englishman Who Taught the Children of the Last Tsar by Frances Welsh

This book focusses on the life of Charles Sydney Gibbes, later known as Father Nicholas, who was the English tutor to the children. Although it is definitely not as good as Tutor to the Tsarevich, it provides an interesting picture of Gibbes' life. It's quite short, and focusses a lot more on Gibbes than the Romanovs, but is worth a read if you're interested in the tutors of OTMAA.

A Few Years Before the Catastrophe by Sofia Ivanovna Tyutcheva, translated by George Hawkins

This book is *TINY* so you might be better served getting the online kindle edition rather than actually buying it. Sofia, or 'Savanna' as OTMA called her, was a nanny to the children from 1906-1912, before being dismissed by Alix for disagreements over Rasputin and the raising of the children. As I said, the book itself is very short, but paints an interesting picture especially of Ernst of Hesse and Nicholas' personalities. There are some fun anecdotes about OTMA, but not too many. The reason I recommend this book is because I am currently reading Anna Vyrubova's memoirs and she goes on a four page rant about poor Savanna, saying that she was a traitor and sold out Nicky and Alix. Reading Savanna's recollections almost entirely prove this wrong.

The Camera and the Tsars: The Romanov Family in Photographs by Charlotte Zeepvat

This book is BEAUTIFUL! Anything Charlotte Zeepvat writes is worth buying in my opinion. But this book especially... *chef's kiss*. It has so much detail about the whole of the Romanov family, and is mainly in picture form with detailed captions and text too. The photos are high quality. A great overview of the whole of the Romanov family and its many branches.

The Grand Duchesses: Daughters & Granddaughters of Russia's Last Tsars

This book is comprised of multiple different biographies about Romanov Grand Duchesses and princesses over a span of about 200 years. It is very unique in focussing entirely on the women in the Romanov family. There are a couple of errors in it, but nothing too awful. Great if you want to dive in and learn about some of the Grand Duchesses that came before (and after) OTMA.

‘After that we wrote.’: A Reconsideration of the Lives of Olga, Tatiana, Maria, and Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanova, 1895-1918 by Althea Thompson

The last recommendation isn't a book, but a thesis written for their Master's Degree, and focusses entirely on OTMA. It's fascinating, with plenty of great sources sprinkled in. It looks to re-examine how historians have viewed OTMA and aims to create an accurate picture of their daily lives. It's a long academic read, but has fantastic information. You can read it here.

I hope this was helpful! I probably missed out some great gems, but these are the first ones that come to mind which are less common :)

[tiredtiresias]

Lore drop: my name is Agatha! I drew some better-known Agathas one night for fun; here they all are!

Agatha Cromwell, *Halloweentown* franchise

You know, when I told my mother my new name, she said it sounded like “the name of an ugly witch,” but the witch Agatha *my* generation knows best is played by DEBBIE REYNOLDS so I think I’ll be fine.

Then there’s Agatha Christie, a dated and problematic fave, and definitely who I get asked the most if I am named after (I am not). *murder on the orient express* does have some extremely funny lines in it though (the book not the new movie).

Agatha Moustafa neé [not revealed], *The Grand Budapest Hotel*

I love Saoirse Ronan and used to be obsessed with this movie, I should rewatch it.

Some Agatha facts!

Image Text

FYI: Agatha is from the Greek for “goodness, nobility, integrity.” It was said by Plato to be one of the two qualities of a good citizen, along with the Greek for wisdom, which gave us my sister’s name, Sophia!

Here’s Agatha of Sicily, a Catholic saint best known for carrying her boobs around on a plate (for Martyr-y reasons)

A. Sicily says: “Don’t ask.”

And Agatha Barbara, independence and equality activist and former president of Malta!

A. Barbara says: “My green flag is that I was imprisoned by the British!”

Lastly,

Marvel’s Agatha Harkness and Agatha Wellbelove from Rainbow Rowell’s *Simon Snow* series

Ok, I guess we are a pretty witchy cohort, but look how cute they are! No regrets. Witch pride!

Comment ur favorite Agathas and I can draw them for u sometime =)

[f1]

Toto Wolff admits Hamilton will need to leave Mercedes if car does not improve

Toto Wolff has admitted he would not blame Lewis Hamilton for seeking a move away from Mercedes if the sport’s once-dominant team fails to reverse its slump. Hamilton’s £40m-a-year contract with the Silver Arrows expires at the end of the season and his future is under the microscope following their poor start to 2023. Hamilton was only fifth at the first round in Bahrain before he finished a distant 11th in practice on Friday for this weekend’s Saudi Arabian Grand Prix, one second adrift of Red Bull’s Max Verstappen. Although team principal Wolff remains convinced that Hamilton, 38, will pen a new deal, he also said that his star driver’s head could be turned as he pursues a record eighth world championship. “If Lewis wants to win another championship he needs to make sure he has the car,” said Wolff. “And if we cannot demonstrate that we are able to give him a car in the next couple of years then he will need to look everywhere. I don’t think he is doing it at this stage, but I will have no complaints if that happens in a year or two.” Red Bull could have a vacancy at the end of the year with Sergio Pérez operating on a 12-month deal, but it seems improbable that Hamilton would be paired alongside Verstappen. Ferrari is a possible avenue to explore if Charles Leclerc elects to engineer a move away. But Wolff added: “I am absolutely confident [Hamilton will stay]. We are talking when we want to do it, and how, but we just need to change some terms and the dates basically. Lewis is at the stage of his career where we trust each other, we have formed a great bond and we have no reason to doubt each other even though is a difficult spell. It will be so nice when we come out of the valley of tears and return to solid performances.” In Bahrain, Hamilton accused Mercedes of ignoring him on the development of this season’s machine. Here, the British driver, who on Friday announced a sudden split from his long-time ally and performance coach Angela Cullen, said “we all need a kick” and revealed “there are times when you are not in agreement with certain team members”. skip past newsletter promotion after newsletter promotion “There are emotions at play with him, with me and with many others in the team,” said Wolff. “We wear our hearts on our sleeves and sometimes you say things that are translated in a controversial or polarising way which inside the team never causes waves. “If I am watching a race that doesn’t go well I would also say, ‘I am not happy how the car has been developed’. That is OK. We want the emotions to be high and we want tough love and nobody is not going to take that on the chin in the team.” via Formula One | The Guardian https://www.theguardian.com/sport/formulaone

[hadescavedish]

A very quick meta about military culture influences on Callan characters

(First of all I am not British, I will probably make mistakes. And secondly: this is not very formal, but I will do my best to make it clear, also I omitted the part of quoting American movies about war veterans, the way military culture brainwashed soldiers is universal though.)

Callan:

How did he start to experience military culture: To be noted the main character Callan was what we call nowadays "the silent generation"--- the group of children that growing up through The Great Depression and WW2 (in his case he had gone through the second Blitz attack and lost both his parents in result). So war had always played a big part in his life--- I think before ever meeting a war, he would have been always a historical nerd of Napoleonic war era (because it would make more sense if he had always liked soldier models, in the Red File the creator James Mitchell wrote for the TV guide that Callan joined Green Howards as a young adult over Royal Engineer, which is Duke of Wellington's regiment, it would have always been his dream to make him give up normal and ordinary life). But actually experiencing WW2 in a traumatic way made him even more wanting to participate in a way that he deemed positive: if liking Napoleonic war was about glory and mystery, then the nightmare of WW2 would be finally having a chance to "fight for one's country, defend for one's beloved"

Was he a patriotic person in general? I would say he had been very patriotic before season 4's events (particularly the encounter with Irish-Russian spy Richmond). But the general culture influences on war history (the delusion that human beings, the individuals, ever had any control over their own action in the grand picture) or WW2 only did half of the work, the actual experiences of participating Malay war (which you could argue that is actually an imperalist involvement but common citizens are only pawns) made the final movement that forging his mind into the system.

Does he always like the military system: I think he grew to hate it (but his speciality is so shaped into it that makes it inseparable, he onlys knows how to kill, that is the thing they ever taught him) but I think as a young adult he had possibly been hoping of the glory and excitement the history books had granted him (I don't know any actual British textbooks in 1940s or 1950s, but I know model soldiers were such a big thing at the time, there are several old visual documents about it in 1960s). He started to hate it when he realised war doesn't treat individuals as human beings, politicians and the upper class think of them as numbers and targets to remove. The thing he hated most is the reality that the military system especially the British military system was just an embodiment of his lifelong tragedy--- the inequality of the society (British officer's ranks in tradition must be bought, the rule was abandoned in 19th century, but before 18th century centuries they recruited more people from the middle class and beyond--- they lowered the standards because of the increasing need, also Callan is from non commissioned officers, which is the so-called “other ranks” and it is not actually officers at all, because he didn’t go to military school and he didn’t have anyone in the family that would benefit him in any way. This is also one of the points I will discuss in Meres' part, also this is the main reason he dislikes Hunters, Meres, or other people that had been privileged by default before ever knowing them better).

Meres:

Hierarchy: Meres' full background is not revealed too much in the canon but we can guess he is from upper-class society, his dad very likely has a seat at the House of Lords (Richmond's words aren't 100% true, but there is some making sense, others aren’t) I don't suppose he is their family heir (otherwise he won't end up here). But being Eton means he had been taught to obey the hierarchy since day one, (tw: slightly homophobe slang but not actually bc it is only the similar word not really the same thing) fagging is one of the unwritten rules that was once popular in British public school (something like American prep schools, roughly) which was established because they wanted children to obey the society's rules from day one, to serve, to submit to someone senior, someone higher ranks, someone better born. 

Brigade of Guards: I have watched several videos recorded in the 1960s about the Coldstream regiment (Tumblr is a weird place that doesn't allow linked posts showing up in tag search, but these videos you could easily find in Youtube search), you will have a summarised display of what it like being in the place Meres had once been in early 60s, they have extensive and most difficult training in the place, and up to this day, to some people, it is still considered a "glory for one's family to serve the queen" in this place (bc well, they are like a very very privileged group of army, so to speak, but I don't really believe of any glory in military culture). It has not the same extent of influence Callan's experiences had on a person, but it still is a 'brainwashing' (let's call it by its name to make matters simpler bc being in any formal organization you have to be persuaded by their mantra to do the collective thing). Combined with this and the experiences of being in public school (without fagging itself, public schools still used to be a very inhumane place for posh kids, because it isolated people from real society and it also encouraged the hierarchy), it made Meres basically very submissive to his boss, of course, you will notice that in particularly first two seasons.

I stressed that Callan's belief in his own people (his patriotism) and Meres' submissiveness to his superiors were traits more common in early episodes because Callan was so tempted to run away and go freelance with a very KGB agent in the finale episode, and Meres finally snapped at Hunter every so often about some callous decisions. 

[brave-symphonia]

My thoughts on Olympus:

I feel like the start of this lostbelt wasn’t nearly as big as Atlantis, it was just Zeus shooting us out of the sky, pretty calm when compared to everyone sending every force they possibly could to kill us in Atlantis.

I was so happy for Mash when she got the Black Barrel, she gets a gun! And that gun was the Black Barrel! From Notes! It was genuinely so exciting.

I was a little disappointed all the Servants died, but I feel like it was for the best. It meant we had less characters to balance around and worry about, and really sells that we would have been fucked if not for the Counter Force summoning countless Servants for us.

It was also really interesting seeing all the different motivations and actions of the Crypters.

Kadoc and Pepe working with us, Kadoc also trying to find out extra information, Beryl kind of just lurking around and trying to get information with his own methods, and Kirschtaria just waiting to see what happens.

And Caenis joining us is not something I ever expected. And I think Kirsch chose him specifically so he would. Because he knew he’d join the side that was taking down the gods. That's also probably why he chose the Dioscuri, to fuel Caenis’s hatred.

And I love that we recruited him with food.

Also, FUCK DEMETER.

Can’t believe we summoned a giant samurai warrior, a giant Ares robot, and Romulus all with the same summoning ritual.

I also found the Dioscuri actually more interesting than I thought I would. Like, their whole deal was actually somewhat interesting.

I am curious about the Guda thing, how the Dioscuri jumped back from him after realizing he was the ammunition to the Black Barrel. Wondering about how that may develop.

And the developments with Kirschtaria were really interesting to me. His NP had him say he wanted to take down the gods, so the entire time I was wondering how exactly he planned to do that.

The reveal that he was going to make them obsolete by making everyone else into gods was just perfect. He never lied, he always chose his words carefully.

And I love that he did it because some orphan sacrificing their life for his just affected him in such a way, that he needed to make sure he lived in a way that was worth it all.

And then there’s Beryl deciding he needed to kill Kirschtaria, because he didn’t want a world where everyone is a god. Because he enjoys murdering people?

I love that. Because we know Beryl is a piece of shit, but to see him seriously betray Kirschtaria was just really good.

Not to mention the BRITISH LOSTBELT coming in and attacking the Tree of Emptiness and destroying it. Having LB6 show up and attack in the middle of LB5!

Also, it sounds like the British lostbelt is actually gone, but they have something that allows it to continue? The Dragon of Albion, maybe?

I loved Beryl at the end there, despite hating him. He's really good at manipulation and getting what he wants, even from aphrodite. I get the feeling he’ll be a fantastic villain in the next lostbelt.

Also, I think earlier in the Crypter arc, Kirsch mentioned he had 3 divine servants. I never questioned it because I thought of the Dioscuri as 2, but they always talk about them as a single servant, the last one was Atlas.

And all the revelations with the foreign god were just great.

I don’t think it was confirmed why she used the trees of emptiness and all that, other than to get a body.

My current theory is she bleached the earth to make a blank canvas, used the trees to “draw” on that canvas, and then had them gather energy from the lostbelts to grow into a body for her.

Really excited about the setups at the end. Kadoc with us, Pepe looking for veangance, the foreign god’s whole deal, Kirei mentioning the Ultimate One, Muramasa going to LB6.

And kind of interesting who Grand Saber might be.

Oh, and Musashi going out like that, I loved the whole thing.

The Foreign God being Olga Marie, even though I knew it was coming, it still really hits me.

[phoenixmaiden-gaming]

Assassin’s Creed IV Black Flag part 18

Lots done today, at least I think so. I did some harpooning and crafting. Went to Nassau to start the next mission where I had to take over a fort and learned some information about the Sage. Then I did the Naval Contract that was in the area and since I had time, I went across the sea in search of buried treasure with the maps I had. A good day.

I started off my gameplay by going to a few spots to do some harpooning. I caught two hammerhead sharks and another Bull Head Shark.

With new materials in hand, I did some crafting.

Sequence 5

I then went to Nassau where it automatically started the mission. It was now 1717 and Kenway was sitting at the Tavern having a drink when two pirates walk in and start complaining about it. Then gets in Kenway’s face when he sees him staring.

Kenway just says welcome to Nassau, where everyone does their fair share. One of the men just complained that this was supposed to be a free place, not a Monastery.

Thatch then came in saying that it kept people in line. The men made a comment about Thatch’s beard, which had grown out and he said why fly a black flag when a Black Beard will do. Guess that’s how he got his name. Then asked why they were here.

One of the men said that there was word that the Cuban Govenor was going to be receiving a lot of gold from a nearby fort. But right now it was just sitting there. That caught Kenway’s attention, especially since Governor Torres was involved.

Thatch then welcomed the two men to Nassau and they were introduced as Captain Vane and Mr. Rackham. I guess they may be important later.

I then set sail again and I ended up in the part of the sea where I couldn’t find a fort, but now it was available. It was Fort Punta Guarico. When we got close Kenway and Adé were looking out at the fort. Kenway asks what Adé would do with the gold they were going to take. Go back to Africa and live like a prince?

Adé said that he’s never been to Africa, he was born in Trinidad as a slave. He would feel as welcome there as Kenway would in Paris. Kenway conceded his point. Adé said that with his skin and voice the best place where he could be at ease is the Country of the Jackdaw and the citizens were the crew.

Kenway said he understood and then said they were going to take the fort, for the citizens of the Jackdaw.

I then started attacking the fort and it was very easy as there were only two parts of the defenses. But there were small ships in the area that I had to sink. I then stormed the fort and took out the two officers and went to the war room.

Kenway walked in and greeted Governor Torres. The man recognized him, but didn’t know his name because he was going by the dead Assassin he had taken over. Kenway didn’t bother to tell him.

Kenway asked what the Templar Grand Master was doing so far from his Casillo. But what caught my attention was the smile. I am not sure if it was supposed to look like that but it looked super creepy.

Look at it! It looks like a glitch. I hope it is because seeing all those teeth didn’t look natural.

Anyway. Torres said that two years ago, they had offered a reward to find the Sage who had gotten away and now someone was claiming to have him. The gold here was for the ransom. 

Torres said that the man who had the Sage was called Laurens Prins who was in Kingston. Kenway said that they were going to help him finish this story using Torres and his gold.

After that, Fort Guarico was now ours with the black flag flying high.

That also completed the mission. (S5/M1 - Mission: The Forts - Complete). I missed out on just one of the objectives, darn.

And now I had the rest of the middle section of the sea revealed. I was just mission a few things. Now all that was left to reveal was the lower half of the sea which said was Hard. I’ll have to prepare for it.

Now free to walk around, I went to get all the treasure, then accepted the Naval Contract. It asked for help in taking out a British Fleet for taking some goods from them. They wanted help in showing them the error of their ways.

I went out to sea and found the ships easily. There were four ships from the smallest gunner to a Frigate. One of my crew had shouted that there was a Man o’ War, but I took them all out with no issues so I think they were confused. I then boarded them all and used it to repair my ship and get extra goods.

With all the ships now sunk, the Naval mission was complete. (Naval Contract: Weathering The Storm - Complete).

I then went back to Fort Punta Guarico and got my completed picture.

I then set sail again and went to look for the chest and two animus fragments that were on some small islands.

I then decided to go through the middle section of the sea and find buried treasure. The first one was for coordinates 901,263.

I followed the coordinates to Petite Caverne and had to go in and kill some of the smugglers so I could move freely. I found it near the back of the cave. Inside was some money and a plan for an Elite Heavy Shot. Nice.

The next map had the coordinates 679,381

I ended up on Cumberland Bay and I found the location at the tip of the island. It was a good chunk of money.

Continuing right along, the next map was for 327,334. 

It took me to Cayman Sound. I struggled just a little bit because I couldn’t find which end it was at, but I found the tip of a ship and saw the trees and rocks and found the dig spot. It was more money!

The last map I had for the center sea was for 335,469. It was easy enough to figure out where it was.

It was for Pinos Isle. I just used fast travel to get to the back Mayan structure. I just had to find the exact spot by the tree. There was some money and a Aquila Wheel plan.

I then went harpooning again for Humpback Whale so I could get materials.

Then I used the materials to do crafting. I just need a few more to make to have everything.

That was where I ended for today. A good day, I say. It was late too and I was ready for bed. I’ll be venturing to the lower seas next time. I hope I’m prepared. I think I am. Until next time. Happy Gaming!

[isolemnlyswear]

hello! can i request a modern marauder (you pick) x popstar!fem!reader (while they're still in hogwarts) to the song breathin by ariana grande as if it were the reader's song? <3 <3

breathin

a/n : this is the most specified request i've ever gotten, so it's kinda shitty ! i really have never wrote anything like this - at all - and i didn’t know if the reader was meant to be a muggle or not ????????? so i made them not one. bc you’re anon i cant ask you questions abt your request, so next time please specify!

continued a/n : wow, this is interesting. i dont like it, but !!! hope u enjoy????

warnings : swearing, bad writing

taglist : @oldschoolkiddo @amourtentiaa @anchoeritic @faeinorbit @tomriddleswifey @inks-and-jinx @jxsperhxle @punkrific @the-gazette-of-tea @krasivayadarling @orifortheweeknd @fallin-4-ya @incxndio @daisyyy2516 @hoe4cedricdiggory @vsawyer1989

Remus sighed, glaring at the raven-haired boy beside him.

“What, s’gonna be fun!” Sirius grins, and the lycanthrope who’s refuting him simply laughs.

“Fun? Your idea of fun is a packed concert - full of muggles, nonetheless - for this...popstar woman?” Remus says incredulously, and Sirius raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, ho, ho, this is not any popstar, Moony. Plus, what else are we gonna do over the summer? Sulk around at your parents’ house?” Sirius grins again, and Remus lets out a sigh.

“The latter I can agree with. But who is this girl, anyway?” Remus inquires, and Sirius reaches into his back pocket to acquire his phone. Although Hogwarts doesn't allow modern technology, both Sirius and Remus have their own each for the summers. With how phone-centered the modern world is, they couldn't not.

He swipes through to find a picture of you - one obtained from your Instagram, which has over four million followers - and holds it up to Remus.

“Merlin,” he breathes, eyes scanning the image.

You're wearing a brown leather dress, the shoulders poking up just barely. Your hair is framing your face, legs tucked under you in a half-crouch, and you're looking into the camera with lips perfectly parted. It was one you took for the shoot of your newest album, and a particular favorite of yours.

“Gorgeous, right? She’s really talented, as well.” Sirius grins, looking at his best friend, who is unresponsive, with eyes glued on the screen. “Moony?” he waves a hand over the brunette’s face, who snaps out of his trance.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. Sure.” Remus says, blinking a few too many times.

“So, you up for it now?”

“Alright,” Remus replies, nodding at Sirius, who pumps his fists into the air with a grin.

“She's American, but doing a show in London in a few weeks,” Sirius informs, smiling.

“American, huh? How old is she?” Remus asks, settling back into the couch they're perched on.

“That's the best part. She's our age - just turned eighteen.” Sirius grins again, putting his phone away.

“Oh yeah? You say that like she'd notice us. Never gonna happen, Pads.” Remus smiles, shaking his head.

“Expect the unexpected, mon amie.”

---

You're fiddling anxiously with your fingers, hands out of use as someone else is doing your makeup, rather than yourself.

“Almost done, Miss L/N,” Madelyn, your makeup artist, says, brushing a soft highlighter over your cheekbones.

“Mads, I told you that you can call me Y/N. You only do my makeup every day,” you say, closing your eyes as the woman pats highlighter into your inner corner.

“And...” she mists your face with setting spray, “...Done!”

---

About four hours later, your back is facing the crowd that's piled into the venue, stage lights shut off as only the sounds of quiet murmurs and shuffling feet hit your ears.

And then, the lights come on with a thumping click, and you begin the routine that you've practiced time and time again.

The music to your first song, the least vocally challenging of the set, begins, and you turn around with a sway of your hips.

Holding the mic to your mouth, you begin a one-step, two-step rhythm, one that's second nature to you; your eyes survey the crowd, left hand reaching to flip your hair.

The tune changes, and the beat is faster, now, as the lights begin to flash and your voice, in a habitual fashion, changes to match. You stride out rhythmically to the center of the stage.

You crouch in a fluid movement, thankful for the coverage your outfit gives you. It's a black sparkling jumpsuit, bottoms being a high-waisted, glimmering fabric with two side flaps, connected at your stomach to a matching corset-like top.

After a few minutes of usual song/dance routines, followed by cheers from the crowd, you decide it's time for a crowd interaction. It's difficult, resisting the urge to pull out your wand and cast a silencing charm to get the group's attention, but you opt for speech, instead.

"Alright, alright, everybody," you say into the mic with a laugh, eyes scanning the crowd for someone to converse with.

There's one man - his ebony hair is swishing as he speaks - who's bouncing up and down like an eager dog, and you laugh.

"We all excited to be here? In London!" you say, garnering numerous cheers and screams from the group.

"I can tell you are." You walk over to the raven-haired boy, who's in front row, and crouch down. He'd previously cheered extremely loud, confirming his excitement.

The boy makes a loud whoop'ing noise, getting a laugh from his friend.

His friend.

You continue to speak, walking over to someone else, but now your eyes are glued on him.

He looks about your age, with beautifully disheveled sandy brown hair and chocolate eyes. He has numerous scars littering his face, some new and red, some older and whitening.

You can't help but wonder what the scars are from, and you feel a strange attachment to the boy, though you've never spoken before.

And after a while, it's time for your final song. About a thirds of the way through, at your favorite part, you meander back over to the boys.

You lean over, disguising your position as a simple concert move, but you're really staring into the brunette's eyes.

"You remind me of a time when things weren't so complicated." The words fall from your mouth effortlessly, and you're able to search the boy's eyes as you sing. There's a spark in them, a glimmer of light that pulls you in.

"All I need is to see your face." You sing, still singing almost directly to the brunette.

You need to see more of him, you suddenly think. And you continue to sing the song, but all that swims around in your brain is a plan. A plan to erase the mystery behind the boy.

The show comes to a close, but before everyone has left, you pull your manager aside.

"Hey, Martin, this- this is an odd request, but could you ask these two boys to come backstage? That sounds, um, interesting, but would y'mind-"

"What do they look like?" Martin interrupts you, and you sigh in relief.

"One has longer black hair, and the other... sorta sandy brown hair, and some scars on his face. Can you find them from that?"

"I'll try."

You nod and thank him, running backstage to your small lounge and bathroom to await your mysterious visitors, changing quickly into clothes that are more comfortable; a simple silk dress, in a y/f/c hue, and a sweater to go over it.

You fiddle with your wand in your hands, mentally berating yourself.

It was quite a reckless decision, really. It's not like you had a valid reason for inviting these people to such a VIP space such as this. Just because you feel some weird connection to one of them didn't mean you could disregard everything. These boys are probably muggles, and you are not. Merlin, you're getting shipped off to Scotland next year after being home-schooled by your magical parents for eighteen years - just in time for your last year of school -going to a boarding school called Hogwarts (which would be a PR nightmare, but your parents insisted you needed some 'real-life experience').

But amidst your train of thought, you hear a knock at your door - two taps, three taps, your manager's code that it's okay to open the door - and you shove your wand into your (enlarged via Engorgio charm) pocket.

You stride over to the door, fiddling with the hem of your sweater, and open it to see Martin.

"Here they are, Miss L/N." He steps to the side to reveal the two boys, the darker-haired male standing in front, and you refrain from gasping when he steps forward, allowing you full view of the other boy.

The scars on his face are glimmering in the light, and his eyes are warm, pulling you in with every glance. His hair is perfectly tousled, and he's tall, over six foot two, or so you'd guess.

"Come in," you say, stepping aside to allow them entrance. You nod to Martin, signalling him to leave, and he does so, shutting the door and leaving you with the pair.

"Holy shit," the raven-haired boy says, and you realize he's only slightly shorter, about an inch less.

You laugh slightly, gesturing for them to sit down.

"Why are we back here?" the shorter one says, and you smile. He's made himself comfortable, seemingly the more outgoing, but the other one is still standing awkwardly beside you.

"You can relax, I'm not interrogating you," you say, smiling at the taller boy, who seems to let out a breath. "Why don't you introduce yourselves, and then we can talk, okay?"

"I'm Sirius, Sirius Black." The boy runs a hand through his dark hair, grinning.

"Ah, like the constellation? Brightest star in the sky," you say, and he nods.

"I'm, um, Remus. Remus Lupin," the other boy says tentatively, offering a smile.

"Hi, Remus," you say, nodding. "I don't want to assume you know my name, I'm aware you're not American, but considering you're at this concert-"

"Of course, we know your name, we're British, not daft," Sirius says with a playful scoff, and you laugh. "You're Y/N."

"That I am," you say with a giggle, and Remus grins. Your heart stops for a moment, the world coming to a halt as his eyes meet yours.

Sirius clears his throat, and a blush spreads onto the apples of your cheeks. You gulp, looking down.

"So, you didn't answer my question," Sirius starts, tilting his head, but Remus kicks his shin.

"Pads, chill," he whispers, shaking his head. Sirius shakes his head, looking at you.

"It's fine, really. 'M not that interesting, no need to be uptight," you say, smiling again.

"I'd beg to differ," Remus breathes.

After what feels like no time at all, but is really three hours, you've gotten any and all formalities out of the way. Well, all but one - you're still unsure if they're muggles, and they don't know that you're a witch, either.

That is, until Remus gets up to go to the restroom, and something tumbles out of his pocket.

Your first thought is how did something that long fit in a jean pocket, but then you see what it is.

It's a wand, about ten inches, cypress wood, with a small bulb at the end of it. You gasp, and Remus goes pale, stumbling to pick it up.

"Is that-" you start, but Sirius cuts you off.

"It's nothing," he says quickly, but you shake your head.

"That's a wand," you say slowly, and Remus is wide-eyed, nervously fidgeting.

"It-"

"No, no, no," you say, reaching into the pocket of your sweater and pulling out your own. Sirius and Remus simultaneously gasp as you brandish it in your hands, and you grin.

"You're a witch?" Remus asks, jaw slack.

"You're a wizard?" you return, raising an eyebrow.

"Fuck yeah we are!" Sirius says, and you grin.

"What school?" Remus inquires, and you purse your lips.

"I was home-schooled, but this year - for my last one - I'm going to this school called Hogwarts? D'you know it?" you explain, garnering another gasp from the pair.

"That's where we go," Remus says, and your eyes light up.

"Really?!" you ask excitedly.

"Yeah! I guess you'll have some friends when you get there, at least," Remus assures, grinning.

"I bet Remus wishes you had a boyfriend to greet you," Sirius says, disguised with some coughs, and you blush. Remus kicks his friend in the shin again, and turns to you with a sigh.

"Sorry, he doesn't know what he's talking about," he says, and you raise an eyebrow.

"Does he not?" you ask flirtatiously, and it's Remus's turn to blush.

"Uh-"

"We'll just have to see, won't we?" you say with a mischievous grin, one returned by the sandy-haired boy in front of you.

[365days365movies]

March 21, 2021: Orlando (1992)

Tilda Swinton...confuses me.

Like, in a good way. Because Tilda may be the most versatile actor working today. I mean, look at the goddamn filmography, and you’ll see what I’ve mean. I’ve seen Tilda Swinton in a lot, surprisingly, and I don’t think anything I’ve seen was bad. For example, I am an ARDENT defender in the portrayal of the Ancient One in the MCU.

I understand the controversy here, but I actually think this is excellent casting. Especially considering...being comic book-accurate would NOT have been a good idea with this role, if we’re trying to AVOID controversy. But Tilda Swinton FUCKING KILLED IT in this role, and I will always be happy for this choice.

Let’s see, there’s Jadis in the Narnia films, as shown at the top, there’s Snowpiercer, as Mason (an amazing character, and an acting job that Swinton disappears into), Moonrise Kingdom as Social Services, The Grand Budapest Hotel as Madame D., and Gabriel in Constantine. Which is a good segue to the next talking point...

Gabriel is pointedly androgynous, and honestly, Tilda Swinton kind of is as well. You may have noticed that I haven’t used any pronouns in referencing to Tilda Swinton, entirely out of respect. Gonna be a little hard to keep up with, so I’ll be using she/her from here on out, only because those are the pronouns that Swinton’s most recently promoted for herself. She’s also referred to herself as queer of some variety, as well as being famously gender non-conforming.

Which is fitting, given that a lot of that public image began with today’s movie, one of her first big roles. I’ll be revisiting Swinton in the independent movie scene in a couple of months, but this may be a good introduction. Instead of spoiling anything off the bat, I’m gonna jump right in. And so, I present: Orlando. SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/2)

We begin with a young man named, well, Orlando (Tilda Swinton), a young man with a feminine appearance and a good upbringing. His name means power land and property, but all he really wants is company. He writes and rests by a tree in the day, but falls asleep by mistake. When he wakes up, he runs back to where he’s meant to be, with a tribute to Queen Elizabeth I (Quentin Crisp) playing in the background. And that’s a REAL song, by the way, actually sung in the 1600s for Elizabeth! Very neat.

A title screen flashes, reading “1600: Death”, and we see where Orlando is meant to be. He speaks poetry for the Queen and her court, but is interrupted by the aged queen, who asks whether or not his poem is appropriate for her presence, as the poem is about youth, and Queen Elizabeth is not that. Orlando’s father (John Bott), who is serving as host to Elizabeth, intervenes on his behalf. However, it doesn’t seem to matter to the Queen, as she invites Orlando back to England to serve as her “favourite”. He accepts, and soon lives alongside the Queen. She quickly promises Orlando much land and property, for him and his heirs, but on one condition: that he does not fade, wither, or grow old. 

The same wish cannot be applied to Elizabeth herself, nor to his father, as both grow old and die soon afterwards. Fast forward 10 years, and it’s a cold winter in England. Visiting Orlando’s vast estate is a woman from Russia, named Sasha (Charlotte Valandrey), and Orlando quickly falls for her. This is to the dismay of Euphrosne (Anna Healy), his fiancée? I’m not sure, to be honest, but they’re definitely involved, and she’s definitely upset.

However, this is also a scandal for everybody else as well, not just because Orlando’s already engaged, but also because Sasha is Russian, during a particularly poor economic period for the country. Euphrosne angrily throws his ring back at him, and Orlando speaks directly to the audience, telling us that a man must follow his heart. The two go to his private cottage, and they start to make out, when Orlando suddenly comes down with intense melancholy.

Because this is such great happiness that he feels, but this happiness too will one day end. Which is, like, the most emo-shit I’ve ever heard, but I’m kinda here for it. And yet, that happiness does indeed end, when Sasha is forced to return to Russia, despite Orlando’s pleading for her to stay. He asks her to meet him at London Bridge, so that they may elope together.

Later, Orlando happens upon a performance of Othello, noting to us that it’s a terrific play. This is as the death of Othello is being played out, so that’s probably foreshadowing, right? Anyway, Orlando leads two horses through the thick fog, waiting for Sasha to arrive and come away with him. But as a storm sets in, there is no sign of Sasha. And Orlando stands there in the rain. Said rain, though, soon becomes ice, underneath his feet, floating away down the river, along with his hopes of a happy future with Sasha. The treachery of women, according to Orlando.

Over the next week, Orlando languishes in his bed, asleep for the entire time. Increasingly more servants are brought up to try and rouse him, only for him to remain asleep, no matter what they do. But then, he wakes up, noting that he can only conjure three words to describe women, none of them worth explaining.

Forty years later, and the title screen cries “Poetry”! And Orlando looks exactly the same. Guess he really took that whole “don’t grow old” thing from Elizabeth to heart, huh? He speaks to a poet, Nick Greene (Heathcote Williams), and gushes about his poetry, which is a pursuit that he loves greatly. But Nick is...well, Nick is kind of a dick, to be honest. Orlando wants only to share his love and his poetry with him, but Nick’s only in it for the money. Not a true artist, and he mocks Orlando’s poetry, which he reads only after Orlando offers him money. And then, he writes a poem mocking Orlando further, which angers Orlando...but doesn’t stop the money flowing to Nick.

Orlando moves onto his next pursuit, in 1700, in the next section: Politics. Now over 100 years old, Orlando becomes an ambassador to the Ottoman Empire, and travels to Constantinople. There, he receives a somewhat rough and awkward greeting, which Orlando is not helping with. They share some Turkish coffee, Orlando has trouble drinking that Turkish coffee, they drink a LOT of Turkish coffee, and they toast to multiple things, including the “beauty of women, and the joys of love.” Orlando pauses at this, and reveals that he is still suffering quite a bit of heartbreak. His Turkish friend, the Khan (Lothaire Bluteau), bonds with him about this.

After 10 years, Orlando has fully retreated into life as a Turkish man. This is interrupted by a British emissary, sent to bring him news of a new appointment and power from the Queen. However, something goes wrong when the Khan arrives and takes Orlando hostage. The city is under attack, and the Khan asks Orlando if he will help against their enemies. Orlando agrees, and gives them arms, and heads to help himself at the walls. There, he witnesses a man dying, and it shakes him greatly. And just like before, he sleeps it off for seven days. And then...she wakes up.

YUP. WHAT.

Yeah, um, Orlando is now a woman. Like she says: “Same person, just a different sex.” Which is a very interesting premise, not gonna lie. Looks like Orlando now has to live life as a woman, which is going to be...difficult in 1700s Turkey. Or England. Or anywhere. Or any time.

Still, Orlando approaches this new life with aplomb, and without really any needed caution. Parading in some awesome dresses, she greets fellow nobility as the lady Orlando. However, the emissary from earlier, Archduke Harry (John Wood), begins to recognize her as similar to the lord Orlando.

In speaking with a group of poets, however, Orlando learns EXACTLY what men think of women in this society, and it’s not even a little bit good. She leaves, enraged and embarrassed. Harry also speaks with her, assuming that she was a woman all along. However, Orlando’s in EVEN MORE shit, as she’s quickly served with papers that are an attempt to take away all of her property and titles, because Lord Orlando is legally dead, and Lady Orlando is a woman, which one of them says is basically the same thing. FUCKIN’ YIKES, BRUV.

Ah, but Harry tries to help by proposing to her ON THE FUCKIN’ SPOT. He believed that Orlando was perfect as both genders, and is happy to do it. However, Orlando understandably refuses, and after Harry tells her that she will die as a spinster, alone and dispossessed, she runs into a nearby hedge maze. And while in the hedge maze, time passes, and her outfit changes to match the period accordingly.

Forward 140 years now! The year is 1850, and a new chapter begins: Sex.

And as she runs from the maze, she runs into who else...but Shelmerdine (Billy Zane), a man who...Shelmerdine? SHELMERDINE? What fuckin’ witch cursed his entirely family line to have THAT name? That’s the kind of family that was named AFTER a bridge, not the other way around! WHAT KINDA NAME IS FUCKIN’ SHELMERDINE?

Well, I’ve looked it up now, and it is apparently a real name. So, if any Shelmerdines are reading this...I mean, I’m sorry, but also, FUCKIN’ SHELMERDINE? OK, back to Shelmerdine. He’s twisted his ankle falling off his horse, and Orlando is now taking care of him. She reveals, in the process, that she’s about to lose everything. The reasons for that aren’t quite said, but Shelmerdine offers a place at his side, back to the great free land of America.

After having a conversation about the roles of men and women in the world (which is interesting given the context of the film in general), the two fulfill the chapter’s imperative. And we never see the act, but we do get some interesting angles and hand-holding. But the next morning, this post-coital reverie is interrupted by the lawyers from the Queen. The lawsuits have been settled, and Orlando has been legally declared a woman, meaning that unless she has a son, all of her possessions will be lost.

Shelmerdine (I swear, every time I say that name, a fairy gets chlamydia) leaves as well, with the southwest wind. As he heads back to America to fight for freedom, Orlando stands in the rain, facing an uncertain future, and broken fully by the politics of the time period.

And then...the sound of planes overhead. Looks like a new time period once again, heading into the periods of World Wars, and Orlando is now...heavily pregnant. OH. FUCK. Welcome to the next chapter: Birth.

We jump past the period of World War II, and to the 1990s! Orlando is presenting a book to a publisher, and he believes that the book will sell. With her young daughter in tow, she finally goes back to her old mansion, now finally able to go back after losing it 100 years prior. The narration from the beginning repeats, recontextualized for Orlando’s new life. She is over 400 years old, and finally, FINALLY...she is happy.

And that’s Orlando! I think I loved it. Real talk, this was a fascinating movie, and I’m into it. I’m very much into it. I’m sure there’s more to be gleaned from this film, but I’m glad I watched it regardless. More in the Review, though! See you there!

[kindofwriter]

Pt. 1

Pt. 2 of ‘The Gang Meets Wilde’

Sorry for the long post, I have an illegal number of pictures, so it won’t let me format :|

Now that I’ve got all the Zoscar out of my system I’m going to do every Sasha scene ever bc she’s the love of my life.

Also, I don’t think Zolf had any healing magic left at this point, but even way back when I first listened I imagined him immediately trying (and only partially succeeding) to heal Wilde. I just wanted someone to take my soft poetry boy away from Bertie!

Transcript under the cut:

ZOLF places a hand gently on SASHA's upper arm. She looks down at him, then reluctantly backs up with the dagger. WILDE stands and smooths his waistcoat. SASHA is still stood uncomfortably close to him.

WILDE: I just thought you might-

HAMID: What is your job?

ZOLF: Actually, just before, that, Hamid?

ZOLF: Actually, just before, that, Hamid?

ZOLF: Actually, just before, that, Hamid?

WILDE (TRYING TO MAKE EYE CONTACT WITH ZOLF): What isn't?!

ZOLF: Ah, lo-, shut up- Hamid? A word, please?

BERTIE: I've got a thing or two in mind...

HAMID nods and starts to lead ZOLF into his bedroom. As they leave ZOLF tries to throw BERTIE a dirty look, but he's already back to making eyes at WILDE. ZOLF instead throws SASHA a sympathy glance, before the door shuts behind him and HAMID.

ZOLF: You realise that what we're actually doing is kind of a bit... secret, international, governmental level... So we probably just shouldn't be telling him about-

HAMID: Yes, of course, I won't tell him about that.

ZOLF: (WITH SOME DOUBT) Okay, just making sure.

CUT TO LIVING ROOM

SASHA has backed even further away from WILDE, though she is still pointing her dagger at him in a threatening manner. WILDE has sidled up to BERTIE and is running a finger along his breast plate.

WILDE: That's very fine armour, is that all yours? I mean, does it fit, is it exaggerating? I'm just curious.

BERTIE (NOT SO MUCH FLIRTING AS ENJOYING THE OPPORTUNITY TO BRAG): Oh, no, this is a very real representation of what lies beneath.

The bedroom door opens and HAMID then ZOLF reemerge, ZOLF looking slightly annoyed at himself for pulling HAMID aside for what was seemingly nothing.Taking in SASHA's perplexed expression, HAMID pushes his way between BERTIE and WILDE and begins to pour her a whiskey.

WILDE: See, isn't this nice? Everyone's getting together-

WILDE gazes at BERTIE over HAMID's head.

WILDE: Everyone's having a good time.

HAMID passes the drink to SASHA.

SASHA: You're all okay with the fact that this guy's been stalking us?

HAMID looks from SASHA to WILDE, who has once against closed the gap between himself and BERTIE and leaning seductively against the mantle.

HAMID: I don't think he's a threat. Let's- We'll talk to him, we'll find out-

WILDE: (TURNING DRAMATICALLY AWAY FROM BERTIE) Woah now! Threat, really?

Having lost WILDE's attention, BERTIE begins to examine his own armour. WILDE steps into the centre of the room. It's clearly not meant as a threatening gesture, but with BERTIE on the other side of the room WILDE easily towers over HAMID, ZOLF, and SASHA.

HAMID: Let's all just relax.

SASHA: Just 'cause someone's charming doesn't mean they're not a threat.

ZOLF: I mean, I was really hoping to have a debrief and actually do some work.

WILDE: (TURNING THE CHARM UP. HE REALLY WANTS TO IMPRESS ZOLF) Oh, don't mind me, honestly, I just thought, you know, it would be useful for you to have a single point of contact, you know? So many reporters hounding you. If people were to know not to come to you because you're already taken, as it were, think of all of the, think of all of the hassle dealt with. I mean, look at me! Of course I can spin this any way you want!

ZOLF: (NOT IMPRESSED) I don't know if breaking into our friend's apartment is supposed to be some kind of grand master play of showing how competent you are-

WILDE: I'm sorry, I just-

ZOLF (ANNOYED): But all it makes me is not trust you and not like you, so that was a misstep.

WILDE has that look on his face again; a desperate mix of wanting to win ZOLF over and wanting to choke him to death.Hearing the shift in tone, BERTIE finally turns his attention away from his armour and shouts from beside the liquor cabinet.

BERTIE: I will take it upon myself to investigate the good character of this young man through a thorough interview and extensive debriefing.

ZOLF forgotten, WILDE turns to BERTIE, twiddling a strand of hair between his fingers.

WILDE: Oh, please do.

BERTIE: I have a private-

HAMID (NOW VERY AWARE OF WHAT BERTIE IS DOING): Possibly over some wine?

BERTIE: I find that wine will often loosen the... tongue.

WILDE giggles slightly. ZOLF gives the back of his head the dirtiest look it is possible to give.

BERTIE: I volunteer for this task. I feel it is incumbent upon me to take this burden of responsibility, take, take one for the team, as it were. And indeed dispense one for the team. You know, I have a private interview suite at The Ritz that I feel might be a more appropriate venue for such a, an extended and languorous and vigorous... intercourse.

HAMID (AT THE SAME TIME AS BERTIE SAYS 'INTERCOURSE,' CLEARLY TRYING TO KEEP THINGS PG): Questioning.

ZOLF looks less than impressed, but this is nothing new for BERTIE. SASHA, looking quite lost, hugs her dagger to her chest.

ZOLF: Okay, can I just make one request?

WILDE whips back around to look eagerly at ZOLF.

WILDE: Oh?

BERTIE (SERIOUS): You can't watch.

ZOLF's face scrunches in a display of grey-ace disgust.

ZOLF (GENUINLY HORRIFIED): Why would I want to watch- (HE CORRECTS HIMSELF TO A MORE NEUTRAL TONE)You having a conversation with this nice man?

ZOLF gives WILDE a sickly sweet smile that is somehow more threatening than any of his openly malicious glares.

ZOLF: However, in the fits of your interview just please try and be discreet with our work.

BERTIE: All of the bellowing will be at an indoor volume, I promise you that, Mr Smith.

WILDE (LOOKING BACK TO BERTIE): I don't think you'll be in a state to bellow the way I interview. Ha!

BERTIE: Ha ha! Hmm.

WILDE (NERVOUS, OVERLAPPING): Well, I mean-

ZOLF (OVERLAPPING): Right, well-

WILDE: No one else care to take me up on the offer?

ZOLF: No, if you wanna take him into your hands then you're more than welcome.

BERTIE: Oh, yes! 

WILDE: Well, shall we say, uh-

SASHA (INTERRUPTING, ANNOYED BUT ALSO WITH GENUINE QUESTIONING): So we're, we're all alright with this just, like, you come in, you break into someone's house, you know secrets about us, and then you flirt your way out of it? 

ZOLF has the decency to look ashamed about his last innuendo. BERTIE does not in the slightest.

SASHA: That's just, just so I know, right, because, uh, seems like we can take down monsters, uh, and, you know, deal with the police, and, uh, fight our way out of burning buildings, but just so I know that that is the one thing that, like, you know, just... being aware.

HAMID: It's not a very difficult apartment to break into, in fairness.

SASHA nods at this; clearly she thought the exact same thing upon seeing it for the first time.

WILDE: What were the monsters?

WILDE reaches inside his coat for a second notebook, identical to the one ZOLF burned earlier.A moment of awkward, stuttered silence ensues.

BERTIE (TO THE RESCUE, FOR ONCE): We've all been fighting our own internal demons, aaaagh.

WILDE (DISAPPOINTED): Ah. Right.

WILDE slips the notebook back.

WILDE: But this was after the, the British Museum? Yes?

ZOLF (TEARSLY): Yes.

WILDE: Tell you what, shall we say nine o'clock, Bertie, yes?

BERTIE: Excellent.

ZOLF: Mr Wilde, let me make something very clear.

WILDE: Please do!

WILDE slips a hand into a different pocket in his jacket and hands a small card to BERTIE.

ZOLF: If anything untoward makes it into the public eye that we do not want into the public eye I will drown you in a bucket.

WILDE straightens from handing over the card and simply smirks down at ZOLF.

WILDE: Well that's seemingly unfair, Mr Smith. I mean, honestly-

ZOLF: And it's still going to happen. So don't try and barter-

WILDE: How would you know it's from me?

ZOLF: Just be very careful.

WILDE (PUTTING IT ON FOR ZOLF'S AMUSEMENT. ZOLF IS NOT AMUSED): So you're telling me that if a, a set of strapping bucks and, and uh, buxom, I want to say?

WILDE looks at SASHA.

WILDE: Ladies?

ZOLF: I could-

SASHA: What? Wait, what? No, nah, no, no wait, what?

WILDE: Under all of that you might be. Who knows? 

SASHA: What?

WILDE (TRAILING OFF): All I'm saying is: you draw a lot of attention, I can't promise you'll never get attention.

ZOLF (STARTS SPEAKING OVER WILDE): I am very keen to cut to the quick and just drown you in a bucket now.

SASHA: Yeah.

BERTIE: Steady.

SASHA: Sounds good.

ZOLF: So stop it with your whole aloof, cleaverer than me kind of thing you've got going on here. If you reveal anything that I do not want to be revealed about this team and their-

ZOLF loses momentum a little as he looks over at BERTIE.

ZOLF: Deeds.

Pulling himself together again, ZOLF reaches up, grabs hold of WILDE's lapels, and yanks him down to ZOLF's height. Surprise, then annoyance, then what can only be described as a flustered blush pass across WILDE's face.

ZOLF (TENSE): I will drown you in a bucket!

BERTIE: Don't worry, Mr Smith, I promise to reveal precisely the right amount.

ZOLF: Good.

WILDE smirks, his moment of frozen, flustered panic over, and he reaches out a hand and lightly bops ZOLF's nose.

WILDE: I'll try not to enjoy it.

Without even a grimace to first indicate what he's about to do, ZOLF rears back and headbutts WILDE. There's an awful crunch as his skull collides with WILDE's nose, which immediately begins to start pouring blood, and WILDE topples backwards onto the floor.

There's a collective gasp as everyone, including ZOLF, realises what he's just done. ZOLF reaches out for WILDE's hand, immediately trying to rectify his mistake, but WILDE pulls back, cupping his hands to his face. Instead ZOLF places a hand on WILDE's cheek, rather aggressively, and mutters a few words. A soft glow emanates from ZOLF's hand and there's another click. Before ZOLF has even had the chance to move his hand away BERTIE's gauntlet smacks him across the cheek and he's knocked prone.

SASHA rushes to check on ZOLF and HAMID makes a futile attempt at pulling BERTIE back. WILDE cautiously removes his hands from his face. His nose is perfectly straight, but still gushing blood. He takes a handkerchief from his breast pocket and dabs at it, shakily getting to his feet.

WILDE: Well, that was unpleasant, I'm so sorry to have let things escalate like that. I'll see you later, Bertie. Pleasure meeting all of you.

SASHA helps ZOLF to his feet, who immediately starts glaring at BERTIE across the room.

ZOLF (BITTERLY, NOT LOOKING AT WILDE): Pleasure.

WILDE: And I hope to see you around again soon. Yep... Okay...

WILDE steps gingerly between the stare-off and to the door. He gestures at it to HAMID.

WILDE: Would you like me to lock it on the way out?

HAMID's shoulders heave as he gives a massive sigh.

HAMID: No, that's fine.

WILDE: Oh, okay.

WILDE starts to leave.

HAMID: Please, Mr Wilde.

WILDE sticks his head back around the doorframe.

HAMID: I will happily talk to you another time, but please arrange an interview in a proper location, and do not come unexpectedly.

WILDE: I'll make sure to get a, uh, a contact time and place from Bertie. Okay?

HAMID (DISGRUNTLED): Very well.

WILDE: Have a good one.

WILDE heads into the corridor, closing the door behind him.

WILDE STOOD IN FRONT OF HAMID'S DOOR

WILDE sighs, and as he does so something about his appearance changes. His hair is less uniform, face paler, eyes more sunken, waist less defined. The colours on his clothes are slightly less garish than they previous seemed.WILDE wipes the rest of the blood from his nose, then stuffs the handkerchief back into his pocket.

He straightens, waves his hand, and suddenly he's immaculate again. He shuffles slightly, like he's about to take off, then pauses for a moment. WILDE lifts a hand to his cheek, where ZOLF cast his healing spell, and smiles; soft and genuine and private. Then, still smiling a little, he takes off down the corridor.

[softxhariana]

burning questions

description: harry appears on ellen and answers some ‘burning questions’

word count: 1.33k

A/N: hello lovelys <3 this is just a lil piece based on harry’s appearance on ellen in jan 2020 where he answered some quick fire questions (u can find HERE) and i altered it to fit in queen ari! 

as always, this is NOT real and is not meant to be perceived as me pretending this is real, it’s fiction.

❤ anywayz, hope y'all enjoy, luv you xox

“I AM GOING TO READ A QUESTION and you have to answer the first thing that comes to your mind, then hit the buzzer, ready” ellen explained, staring at the camera as harry cleared his throat and looked around the studio audience.

without giving him a chance to reply - in usual ellen fashion - she asked the first question. 

“firsts things first, boxers or briefs?”

pausing to think, he turned to her confused, “what shape is a brief?”

“a-a brief is like, uh, the-”

“boxers are like the swimming short” he continued, his sudden mind-blank not helping him too much in a game based on speed. and when she gave him a short ‘yeah’ in confirmation he turned back to the camera, “oh, yeah ok briefs....do i hit this” he gestured toward the buzzer and with another word of confirmation spilling from her mouth he tapped the buzzer, repeating his answer.

“yep, what are your three favourite body parts on a woman?” ellen asked, a glint of arrogance in her eye as if she knew she could get him to slip up, but harry was too clever - even if it took him a while to prove it.

“ehm...” he took his time. while it was easy to pick a million of ariana’s features that he loved he was definitely being careful to pick the most ‘PG’ ones.

“eyes...” the audience laughed and whistled as he looked deep in thought, “smile.... character” he finished matter-of-factly, an innocent boyish smile on his face as he looked around the studio and everyone ‘aww’ed”                               

“thank you” ellen replied though the clapping, and as much as he internally wanted to say ‘wasn’t talking about you’ he stuck with just repeating her words, smile still present and glowing on his face.

she waited for everything to quieten down before continuing

“uh, what’s a lie you recently told?” she smiled knowingly, the audience cheering at the convenient timing of the question.

harry smiled at the insinuation but decided to go the safe - yet still completely honest - answer,

“that i wanted to play this game” he said smugly, hitting the buzzer infront of him with a ‘ding’.

ellen’s jaw dropped at his answer, before turning back to the camera with a grin, the audience laughing and cheering at his playful dig.

“ok, if you cant sleep in the middle of the night, what do you do?” she read.

they were setting him up, harry thought.

he knew exactly what he did when he couldn’t sleep at night- and he was sure many people could guess, but he also knew that he definitely wasn’t about to expose himself and ariana by being honest, so he did that he did best.

avoid a question, by telling only part of the truth.

that way he could never be called a liar. managing to stay honest without revealing details of his life was something that -while he would never admit it - harry was rather proud of.

“i wake ariana up” he said, laughing as he hit the buzzer.

the crowd only got louder at the revelation. knowing what it insinuated and knowing they were never going to get a straight answer from the singer, they were satisfied.

ellen however, needed more, “oh yeah, and what do you do when you’re both up in the middle of the night” the talk show host prodded,

harry kept the lazy smirk on his face as he reminded her that he had given his answer and she shook her head with a laugh before moving on, 

“how old were you when you had your first kiss?”

“ehh... like ‘kiss’ kiss?” he asked, ‘yep’ she nodded keeping her face towards the front, “eh, like 12, i think” he said unsurely, hitting the buzzer. his memory not the best at the present time.

“ok, what is your favourite curse word?”

“cc----” he trailed off, spinning in his chair a little, “is bollock’s a curse word?” he ended up asking

“bollocks?’ she repeated, how british could he be “eh, no but if its your favourite-”

“ok... shit” he decided, “right? solid, does the job” he tilted his head questioningly at the audience who seem to have gone mad at just hearing him swear.

“FUCK” he almost shouted, jumping a little in his seat, sending the viewers spiralling, ‘yeah’ ellen agreed hitting his forgotten buzzer for him. 

“who was your first celebrity crush?” ellen asked, trying to move the game along, which was hard when playing with the worlds slowest talker, 

“ARIANA!” someone in the crowd shouted, scream’s erupting at the mention of her name, and harry blushed slightly, before regaining his confidence, 

“no, she wishes though...” he joked, pulling a laugh from everyone, even ellen

“but um... maybe- probably jennifer aniston” he eventually settled on, tapping the red buzzer.

whenever him and ari would watch friends together, she’d tease him by going on and on about how gorgeous matt leblanc was, which he would just respond to with a comment about jennifer.

that would shut her up, not before a mumbled agreement, or i quiet ‘i would’ that would have him laughing.

“what’s your biggest fear?”

“dying” he replied slowly

“dying?’ ellen turned to stare at him

“that was dark” he commented, a smile growing on his face,

“ye-” she trailed off joining the laughter as he played with his necklace awkwardly.

“who is the most famous person in your phone?”

 he paused, not ready for her to mock him for his answer later, but deciding he may aswell since it was basically the truth 

“ariana grande” he answered with a smirk on his lips

another cheer - she seems popular - he thought.

“she's going to love that” ellen smiled, sarcasm dipping from her voice.

“what is your favourite sound in the world?”

“ari” he replied instantaneously, not registering the trap as he hit the button - too busy picturing exactly the sound he was talking about.

but when ellen looked at him suggestively and he heard the audience whistling, he realised he’d fucked it, 

“ariana doing what?” she inquired, the intent behind the jab completely obvious, only spurring the audience on even more.

“singing-” he blurted, recollecting himself, “she's a singer remember” he tried to   justify, his face blushed as he looked out to the crowd with a sheepish smile.

“mhm” ellen jested, only laughing and moving on when he jokingly hit the buzzer multiple times with his head down.

“ok, ok, what would your signature fragrance be called?”

staying quiet for a moment, harry bit his lip for a moment in contemplation

“boxer’s or briefs” he joked, trying not to laugh too much at his own comment.

“what’s your guilty pleasure?” ellen asked

“ehhh...working out to one direction” he smiled knowingly, as he innocently tapped the buzzer, ellen pausing for a prolonged time as the audience continued to laugh.

“yeh, ok, have you ever been in handcuffs?” 

“yes” he replied shortly, leaving no room for any more of ellen’s remarks. “name, uh, your favourite music video of all time?”

“uhh, sledgehammer by peter gabriel”... he hit the buzzer again.

“if you weren’t a singer, what job would you want?”

“florist” he answered randomly after a moment. he didn’t really know why he said that to be honest, but he would just go with it.

“when you’re alone in a car, what song do you play?”

“cheryl lynn, got to be real” he said through a smile, “that is a good one” ellen turned to him, nodding in agreement.

“yep”

“last question, have you ever forgotten the lyrics to your own song while you’re on stage?”

too many times, he thought “yes” he nodded, the audience cheering once again.

“you did a god job!” ellen turned to him with a smile

“thank you!” he replied just as enthusiastically

“yes, we’re done” 

he put his fist in the air with a smile at the applause, and braced himself for the teasing he was sure to endure when he got home.

[you-cant-spell-subtext-without]

hello hello hello!  and welcome to Season 12 of Supernatural. 

I admit that initially I STRUGGLED WITH SEASON 12.  I LOATHED the British Men of Letters (other than Lady Antonia Bevell; her hot working mom energy can get it); I have...mixed feelings about Mary; overall it was not a stellar season for me the first go-round.  HOWEVER I shall now give it a second chance,  and look for the subtext within the bad (and if my theory tracks, there will be much subtext as...there is much bad).  Maybe I’ll even develop Ketch appreciation.  **ONWARDS ONCE MORE INTO THE BREACH, MY FRIENDS:

When we last left Dean, I neglected to mention that Amara brought his mom back (this is how much I repressed Mary Winchester I guess?)  We cut to Mary, confused, in a nightgown (I get this is part of the character and that’s why she is wearing it sO wE kNOw iTS rEAlLy MaRY WinCHEstEr because of her nightgown and not Sam Smith’s exquisite face, but honestly WHY - LIKE DID SHE WEAR THE DAMN THING IN HEAVEN THE ENTIRE TIME TOO?).

DEAN [breathing heavily] 

Mom. Listen to me. Your name – your name is Mary Sandra Campbell, okay? You were born December 5, 1954, to Samuel and Deanna Campbell. Your father, he bounced around a lot for, uh, work, and you bounced right along with him, and you ended up in Lawrence, Kansas.

MARY 

How do you know all that?

DEAN 

Dad told me. March 23, 1972, you walked out of a movie theater – Slaughterhouse-Five. You loved it, and you bumped into a big Marine and you knocked him flat on his ass. You were embarrassed, and he laughed it off, said you could make it up to him with a cup of coffee. So, you went to, uh, Mulroney's and you talked and he was cute and he knew the words to every Zeppelin song, so when he asked you for your number, you gave it to him, even though you knew your dad would be pissed. That was the night that – that you met –

MARY 

John Winchester.

DEAN 

August 19, 1975, you were married... in Reno. Your idea. A few years later, I came along, then Sammy.

***DEAN DESCRIBING EVERY DAMN DETAIL OF THIS HAS MURDERED ME.  Also, I know John Winchester “told him the story,” but something about this retelling - these are NOT John Winchester’s words (other than maybe “big Marine”).  The emotions, the feelings, the “you talked and he was cute” Dean is describing is Dean’s retelling, the version he created in his mind of this damn meet-cute, this little love story he played over and over in his head, and that makes me feel warm and tingly and also want to ingest sharp knives.  

***Everyone already knows about the damn Zeppelin reference but just in case you wanted to be tortured, please recall that later on we will get

THIS FUCKING SHIT

Nothing to see here other than Dean using a reference from this LOVE STORY on Cas.  I HATE it here in super hell.  Next rounds on you, Sam.

Anyway, Mary has caught on:

I paused here just now because I had a tHoUGHt.  This season is all about exploring Dean and Sam in their role as sons (this is discussed at the SDCC panel prior to the season; btw they are all free on Prime and I recommend watching before you start each new season for little “reveals” behind some of the plot lines).  We know Sam has no relationship to Mary really, he was a baby when she died, but Dean was a little boy - with a personality, character traits, identifying characteristics that his mother probably knew like the back of her hand.  That’s why my first run-in with Mary left a bad taste in mouth during this season - LIKE THIS IS YOUR KID, and there is NO inkling or recognition until THIS moment?  In a show that just spent an entire season exploring the “unexplained connection” between Dean and GODS SISTER, there no immediate “OH” from his own mother?!

But then I realized why she only connected at this very moment.  This particular moment - and not the moment where he lists the factual details about her before the story of the night she met John.  That little story with all those cute details - that’s the part of Dean that Mary knew before she died - when that part was ALL of Dean.  Before hunting, before John’s quest for revenge turned him into the person he is today, before he saw himself as a blunt little instrument.  That’s why initially Mary has no recognition that this is her son - because the Dean she knew was sensitive, and kind, and OPEN, and liked love stories, and laughing, and warm hugs and maybe flowers. Because if you think about it WE DONT KNOW THAT DEAN.  We only know Dean AMD. (After Mary’s Death).

*****************************************************************************************************

So maybe Mary represents Dean Before Mary’s Death, and whatever part of that Dean remains, no matter how deep he has been buried.  The part that connects with people; the part that doesn’t want to be alone.  The part that helped Amara.  The part that loves Cas.  And that’s why Amara brought her back.  

*****************************************************************************************************

Ok, if I think of it this way, I may like Mary a little better now.

BUT ALSO MY BABY:

Cut to Cas.

[THE MAN WALKS OVER TO THE EDGE OF THE CRATER MADE BY THE LANDING AND SEES CASTIEL PULLING HIMSELF OUT.]

MAN 

Holy mother.

[CASTIEL STANDS UP AND LOOKS AROUND]

CASTIEL 

Where am I?

MAN

Uh...Earth?

CASTIEL 

No. How far am I from Lebanon, Kansas?

MAN 

Uh... Th-three hours, maybe. Wait, wait, wait, wait. Who – What are you, man?

[CASTIEL WALKS TOWARDS THE MAN AND TOUCHES HIM ON THE FOREHEAD. THE MAN DROPS TO THE GROUND. CASTIEL LEAVES HIM THERE AS HE DRIVES OFF IN THE TRUCK]

***I spy a Season 11 random parallel

And Cas says, “Earth - 

***Also, I often wonder if in his mind’s inner GPS, Cas bases distances on how far he is from Dean. 

In the meantime, Bad Things Are Happening to Sam.

***Toni Bevell, don’t join the British Men of Letters you’re so sexy hahah

Other than noting that this is yet another too oft- repeated Sam, the Victim, Always Gets Tortured scenario, I see no point in recapping these parts.

I will just continue to post Toni Bevell hotness for these portions of the episode. Ok?  Ok.  You’re welcome.

BACK TO THE BUNKER:

I already posted this sweet baby reunion in my final Season 11 analysis/recap, but lets see it again at another angle and from Mary’s perspective CAUSE CLEARLY she has...*thoughts*

Poor Cas had no idea he was about to MEET THE PARENT 

It melts my little heart that Dean uses Cas’s full name to introduce him to people.  Especially members of his family who are trying to kill him.

Anyway, then we get a much longed for gem of typical Cas deadpan:

(*I still miss Casifer a little bit though*)

And then we have 

A MOMENT OF CONNECTION!  

At the SDCC panel, Misha specifically noted that both Mary and Cas are outsiders, so this tracks. 

They head to the garage:

[Exhaling sharply, Mary walks towards Baby. She runs her hand lightly over the car.]

MARY This was John's car. Oh, she's still beautiful.

DEAN Hell, yeah, she is.

MARY Hi, sweetheart. Remember me?

[MARY LEANS DOWN AND LOOKS INTO THE CAR SMILING. SHE STARTS LOOKING AT THE FRONT SEAT BUT HER EYES AND HER THOUGHTS LINGER ON THE BACK SEAT. DEAN LEANS DOWN LOOKING AT THE INTERIOR OF THE CAR WITH PRIDE. DEAN LOOKS AT HIS MOM AND REALIZES SHE’S HAVING VERY SPECIFIC MEMORIES OF TIME IN THE BACK SEAT. DEAN LOOKS AROUND THE CAR, AND LOOKS AT HIS MOM.]

***this is where you truly see that Sam Smith is a genius because she took those directions and put them all into THIS:

And then THIS:

DEAN 

Oh…

[MARY LOOKS UP AT DEAN. DEAN REALIZES HE MIGHT HAVE BEEN CONCEIVED IN THAT CAR, STANDS UP QUICKLY AND LOOKS OVER THE CAR. DEAN SWALLOWS HARD, AND GLANCES AT CASTIEL WHO GIVES HIM A QUIZZICAL LOOK.]

DEAN 

We should go.

***At this time I would like to remind everyone that Cas is also generally in the back seat of this car.  

MOVING ON

Meanwhile-

Back at the bunker, Cas is Continuing to Connect with his boyfriend’s mother:

[EXTERIOR DAY; INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS AND THE NOISE OF VIDEO GAMES ARE HEARD. THE CAMERA PANS TO MARY WHO’S WATCHING THE SCENE. CASTIEL IS PICKING UP COFFEE.]

CASTIEL 

Thank you.

[CASTIEL TAKES THE COFFEE TO MARY AND SITS DOWN.]

CASTIEL

This must be difficult for you. I remember my first moments on Earth. It was jarring.

MARY 

One word for it. I grew up with Hunters. I've heard of people coming back from the dead before. But to actually do it... after 30 years. A lot's changed.

[MARY LOOKS AROUND.]

MARY A lot.

Cas:

This is usually a look Reserved For Dean, so its interesting Cas is looking at Mary here [they also weirdly joked about Cas hitting on Mary at the SDCC panel and now I'm giggling because if Mary represents the soft part of Dean this all makes PERFECT SENSE).

BONUS

Actual footage of Sam in super hell

The Cas/Mary bonding worked BTW:

[INTERIOR: GREGORY IS SITTING IN FRONT OF HIS DESK WITH CASTIEL, DEAN, AND MARY STANDING BEFORE HIM.]

DEAN 

So, you dug the bullet out of his leg, no questions asked?

GREGORY 

She offered me 100 grand.

MARY 

And you took it?

GREGORY 

Student loans were a bitch, okay?

[ANGRILY CASTIEL STARTS TOWARDS GREGORY.]

DEAN 

Cas! Cas! Cas! Don't hurt him. Not yet.

**Disclosure: I do not accept the “Cass” spelling and take creative license to change it in the script whenever it appears**

GREGORY 

All right, look, she didn't give me her name. When we were done, the driver bailed, I got paid, and then some other chick shows up, and they all drive away.

MARY 

And that's everything you know?

GREGORY 

(insincerely) Yeah. Totally.

****Um, Mom that’s my boyfriend you don’t order him around like tha-

Oh, well, ok then.

***This is important, because Cas doesn’t obey anyone (other than Dean) blindly ever since he invented free will and all that.  Hence Dean’s surprised/impressed look to Mary above.  

Meanwhile:

I recall that I spent most of my first watch of Season 12 gushing over Toni Bevell, so I’m glad to know this won’t be changing.  You’ve been warned.

Next up, Sam is again sex tortured, Cas is a Helpful Boyfriend, and for some reason, Rick Springfield.