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isidar-mithrim · 4 years

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Silliness of love – Chapter 3

Nineteen years later, James and Al have just left for Hogwarts, and the least Harry can do to cheer Lily up is having someone over for dinner.

Inspired by prompt posse #8 by the ‘Harry and Ginny Discord’: “What is a secret you’ve never shared?”

[Chapter one and two on Tumblr – Ao3]

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Of books and misunderstandings

“You Confunded the examiner?!”

“Maybe, or maybe not,” said Ron amiably.

“When you’ll destroy our car I’ll make sure you fix it yourself, without magic and without your father’s help.”

“And then you’ll have to polish by hand the silver in the trophy room, and ten point from Gryffindor!” cut in Teddy, his face incredibly close to McGonagall’s, minus the spectacles.

Even Hermione bursted out laughing.

“C’mon, there’s nothing to worry about, I don’t even exist in the Muggle records.”

“We’ll talk about that when you’ll have run over some poor old lady.”

“Oh, she might be Aunt Petunia!” said Lily with delight, leaving Harry completely baffled while Ron’ and Hugo’s laughs mingled together.

“Let’s hope Ron won’t run over anybody, shall we?” said Ginny, looking at her brother. “And don’t you think I’ve forgotten that you’ve yet to tell your story!”

“Don’t worry, we made a deal, and I have all the intentions to fulfill it, because you’d never imagine that the silliest thing I’ve done for Hermione was…” Ron trailed off, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Harry took a spoonful of pudding, finding himself more curious that he had expected. He wondered if he already knew about this or not.

“It was…”

“Dad, don’t keep us in suspense!”

“There must be so many things he could pick that he has no idea where to start,” teased Ginny.

“You’re wrong, you harpie of a sister. I’ve known what I was going to say since the very start. It all began when I was seventeen years old, before Hermione and I got together. After the whole Lavender debacle, I knew I had to work very hard to win Hermione’s heart, and so… I read a book.”

Silence fell when everybody looked at him with bewildered expressions, until Ginny broke it.

“Absolutely impressive, Ron. I’d have never suspected that by that age you were alphabetized enough to read. Are you sure it wasn’t a comic?”

“Or The Kamasutra?” asked Teddy with a suggestive smirk, rousing hiliarity among the adults.

Lily narrowed her eyes, bemused. “The Kamasutra?”

“Oh, don’t mind Teddy,” Harry hurried to say. “It’s nothing interesting.”

Lily shrugged and stood up. While she walked towards the stairs with firm steps, a shiver ran down Harry’s spine.

“Where are you going, love?”

“To look up in the dictionary what Kamasutra means, since you are not telling me! I want to understand your funny jokes too.”

Harry almost choked on his Butterbeer, but Ron doubled over with laughs. “Lily, you’d probably have more luck searching under James’s bed!”

While Hermione exclaimed with indignation, Ginny looked at Teddy with a deadly smile.

“Come back, honey. I’m sure Teddy is perfectly happy to explain what he was talking about, right?”

“Er…” he mumbled, adjusting the collar of his t-shirt while Lily sat down and looked at him with expectancy. “Well, erm… It’s a book that was written centuries ago by Hindus wizards and witches, that teaches a series of… of exercises to be… in harmony with your body.”

Teddy now looked pretty smug, his embarrassment apparently forgotten. It was a pretty effective explanation, after all – or so Harry thought until Hugo spoke.

“And that’s supposed to be funny?” he asked, throughuly not impressed.

Teddy chuckled awkwardly. “Er…”

“Well, it’s an illustrated book, sweetie,” explained Hermione with a strained smile. “That means you don’t have to read to understand those exercises.”

Harry couldn’t help but admire her cleverness, but Hugo raised his eyebrows with bored disappointment.

“Ha, ha, ha. Best joke ever, Teddy…”

Lily’s eyes, on the other hand, were bright with curiosity. “Do the figures move?”

When Harry choked on his Butterbeer, Hermione had the decency to look sheepish. “Er… only in the Wizarding version.”

Teddy jerked his head toward her. “Wait, do you mean there’s a Muggle version too?”

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath, but Hermione cleared her throat to hide her embarrassment. “Yes, I believe there is,” she said curtly, obviously eager to put an end to the conversation.

Her effort couldn’t have been less effective.

“Have you read them both, Mum?”

Hermione’s cheeks flushed red in an instant, but she still had the presence of mind to stomp on Harry’s foot under the table. To be fair, he was doing a very poor job at holding back his laughters, but Ron, Ginny and Teddy weren’t copying any better.

Hugo glared at them, his arms folded in annoyance. “You’re doing it again.”

It was Ginny the first to recover. “Sorry, love, but it’s quite fun to imagine your mum reading them. You know she’s never been a fan of gymnastics,” she added with a wink.

Harry leaned towards Ginny, his mouth close to her ear. “No, that’s your area of expertise,” he whispered cheekily. He clearly hadn’t been subtle enough, though, because Ron groaned loudly.

“Merlin’s pants, you two are disgusting,” agreed Teddy.

Hugo scowled at them all. “Well, if you all want to be so mysterious, I’ll ask Rose to look for a copy in the library. I bet she will tell me what’s so funny about this stupid book.”

This time it was Ron’s turn to choke on his Butterbeer.

“Er, I’m pretty sure there isn’t any copy at Hogwarts,” mumbled Teddy. “And anyway, weren’t you eager to listen to your dad’s silliness, Hugo?”

“Exactly!” exclaimed Ron, seizing the opening. “I’d just mentioned that I read a book, which wasn’t an illustrated one, nor a comic, but a real book with real letters, words and sentences!”

“Please know that if you’re about to say that you’ve read Hogwarts: A History just to please me, I won’t believe it.”

“Hermione, we’re talking about a silliness, not a miracle,” said Harry, who now had a clear suspicion on the nature of the book.

Ron clapped his back. “Thanks, mate. It’s wonderful to know you’re always ready to put in a good word for me.”

Harry grinned, raising his glass in salute. “You’re welcome.”

“Enough with your comradeship,” said Ginny with a smile. “It’s time for you to reveal the title of this phantomatic book, Ron.”

“Yes, yes, I’m getting there… So, it was a present by Fred and George for my seventeenth birthday…”

“Then it definitely wasn’t Hogwarts: A History,” teased Teddy.

“No, definitely not,” agreed Ron, shaking his head. “It was called Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches. Pure gold, it explained everything you needed to know about girls!”

“Oh God.” Ginny looked at her brother in disbelief. “You used a book to understand how to woo Hermione?”

“Hey, don’t think Harry hasn’t read it! I gave it to him myself for his seventeenth birthday!”

Ginny turned toward Harry, who inwardly cursed Ron upon noticing that her eyes were wide with surprise and mirth.

“Technically I only read it after we got together,” he pointed out. “And it’s not like I had much time to read it while we were on the run, so I –”

“Really?” asked Hermione with a knowing smirk. “Because I clearly remember that you had all the time to check for her on the Marauders’ Map...”

“You spied on her on the Map?” exclaimed Teddy, half shocked, half amused.

“It wasn’t like that! I was just worried, and I missed her, and I –”

But Harry couldn’t finish his plea, because Ginny brought their lips together in the sweetest of peck.

“Eww, Lily, Hugo, cover your eyes,” said Teddy, laying his hands over the kids’ faces and making them chortle.

Harry rolled his eyes dramatically. “Very funny, but don’t think you’ll get away with it so easily.”

“Get away with what?” asked Hugo.

“Oh, only with the fact that Teddy still hasn’t admitted that he also received that book for his seventeenth birthday.”

“Uuuh, Uncle Bill will be happy to know Vic’s boyfriend needs a book to understand her!”

“Shut up, bug,” said Teddy, ruffling Hugo’s hair. “There’s nothing wrong in that book.”

Harry nodded in agreement – he had been the one to give it to him, after all – but he privately realised that, if Bill knew that book as well, he probably wouldn’t have been too thrilled to learn that Teddy owned a copy as well.

“Yeah, of course there’s not wrong,” said Hugo mischievously. “I’m going to write it all to Louis, tomorrow!”

“You will not, and who told you I’ve read it, anyway?”

Ron and Harry exchange an amused glance, knowing perfectly well there was no way Teddy hadn’t drawn lessons from that book.

“Back to you, Ron,” said Hermione, a glint in her eyes. “I understand that back then you had the emotional range of a teaspoon, but do you care to explain how it’s possible that, unlike Harry’s and Teddy’s books, yours didn’t prompt you to do the first move?” she teased.

Ron widened his eyes in theatrical astonishment. “Wait, are you telling me that talking about house elves in the middle of a battle isn’t considered a first move?” he asked, and nobody could bite back their grins.

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wolfpawn · 4 years

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I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 94

Chapter Summary - The Skull Island tour has been long and tedious, taking a lot out of Tom. When he returns home, it is too much and his body tells him he needs to rest, which leads to him needing care, thankfully, his ex-paramedic girlfriend comes home to assist.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long. This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe @wolfsmom1

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

Tom fell onto the bed and groaned. He could tell he was on the verge of being ill, his stomach felt odd and his head felt fuzzy. He had not drunk very much at the awards, but he suspected that the little he did drink after all the tiring travelling over the last two weeks and the now suspect stomach upset was not helping. Looking at his phone for a moment to see what the beep noise he had heard in the car back to the house was. He did not tend to check his phone in cars, he left it in a car one night and it cost him a good opportunity at a role in the time it took to get it back. He had to squint to see the words on screen.

Danielle - Delighted for you, you deserved it. The food is so weird here, I am scared to try some. I cannot wait to be home with you tomorrow, I love you and I am so proud of you. Xxx

He grinned on realising that Danielle had taken the time to text. Over the past few weeks, they did not talk often, mostly by text, but he ensured to contact her every day as he got ready for whatever the day held and before bed, she did the same, but usually added another text on days he was on tv shows or the red carpet to give him encouragement and her thoughts. It made him excited to check his phone after such events. To watch the Jimmy Kimmel show, she had to get out of bed after a day of work and with more work the next day, as well as spending her evening's correspondence with the Lucas man she was working with in America, but she did it willingly. Her words and the smiley face or x’s at the end of her texts and the ‘I love you’ at the end of her day made him smile goofily without fail any time he received one. It made the tiring days and the lonely nights in hotel rooms so much easier. They spoke twice, but time zones and workloads made it difficult. Danielle’s week of work was one of intensity and insane hours, especially with her other work too. He knew she would be reluctant to speak too because he would scold her for overdoing it. The only grace he had was because it was in Suffolk and she was next to his mother, he had Diana keep an eye on her.

Feeling drowsy and unwell, Tom kicked off his shoes and lay on the bed, not even taking off his pants and fell asleep lying across the bed, his head on Danielle’s pillow, inhaling her scent as he drifted off.

Danielle tried Tom’s phone again, but it was still turned off. Thinking he was driving, she sat in the airport café and waited a little while longer. Her flight had been fifteen minutes early, though she suspected that that was because it gave itself a little longer flight time to declare itself ahead of time on a lot of services, and it was a time of day where traffic in London could be a tad mad, so she knew there was a high probability that Tom was delayed. She had texted when she got to Orlando on the stopover for her flight, and again at Schiphol, but Tom never replied to her texts, so she could only assume that even if there was an issue with his phone, he would still come at the time they had arranged. But as it came to an hour after that time and he was still not there, she began to wonder what to do. She rang him one last time, but as soon as she heard the automated answering machine, she hung up. Part of her thought to get a cab, but considering she was only in the US for two days and only brought a small backpack, she decided the Tube was far more cost-effective.

It took a little over an hour to get back to Belsize from Heathrow, and the entire way, Danielle thought over the time that Tom had been on the press tour. It was doable, or so she thought anyway. Not fun, not ideal, but very doable. She had spent time with Emma, feeling as though it was as good as before the whole Christmas debacle and they arranged to go out another time soon. Herself and Nacelle had a great time at her house, even if she had to hide her clothes in Diana’s, much to her neighbour’s utter bewilderment when she answered the front door to see Danielle standing there with clothes in her arms, not even packed in suitcases, asking her to mind them for a few days. Nacelle met Diana, who apparently knew her mother from her days in theatre and the trio had dinner any time that Nacelle and Danielle returned to the house at a normal hour. The nights they did not, there was food waiting for them in the fridge.

Luke had informed her halfway through the first week that Tom was away that the photos of her on the internet had caused little reaction. Most assuming her to be Tom’s dog walker, but one or two tried to link her to being the girl Tom was seen with for dinner with his mother, but her makeup and hair had thrown most into rubbishing it. But the small few were adamant it was the same person and were declaring their love or hate for it accordingly. He also warned her that there were a few that were certain that he was still seeing Taylor, and nothing would waive them. Danielle was not in any way bothered by such accusations, if anything, it meant she and Tom were less likely to be on people’s radar for the time being, which suited her.

When she walked to the house from the Tube station, she frowned at seeing Tom’s Jaguar and her car both in the driveway. She opened the door and walked into the house. “Hello?” She noted Tom’s keys and suitcase. “Tom?” looking around, she realised Tom had done nothing of note since he came home. His laptop bag and his wallet were in the kitchen, as were his two new Empire Awards. “Tom?” She called out again, but again, there was no answer. She walked up the stairs and towards the bedroom. The door was slightly ajar and to be honest, the irrational part of her brain began to think of more and more outlandish worst-case scenarios, but she dismissed it and walked in slowly.

The room was in darkness and there was clearly someone in the bed. As soon as she entered, she got her reason for why he had not come to the airport. Looking at the figure in the bed, she felt herself feeling pity for him. There was a strong smell of sweat and vomit. Her years as a paramedic meant that though others would recoil, she only noticed because it was so strong. The first thing she did was went to the window and opened it slightly before then going to the bathroom to assess the damage. She cleaned everything that was required there and then put a fresh spray of air freshener inside. When that was done she left the room again and went downstairs. She put on a wash, knowing they would need to get the laundry sorted before going to the kitchen and making a rehydration drink for Tom, as well as bringing a few headache tablets. When she went back upstairs, she noticed Tom had not even stirred. Sitting on the side of the bed, she placed the drink and drugs on the beside locker before trying to wake him.

Her hand went to his sweat covered hair and brushed it off his forehead. “Tom, hey…” Tom groaned. “Hey, handsome.”

“Elle?”

“Hey.”

“What…what are you doing here? You’re not home until tomorrow night.”

“It is tomorrow night; my flight came in this evening as it was supposed to. Have you been sick since yesterday?”

“I came home from the awards, I felt like shit, then I…” He rushed off the bed and back to the bathroom and heaved into the toilet violently. Danielle followed him. “No. Out.” He ordered as he spat into the cleaned bowl.

“Not a chance, I am trained and desensitised to this,” She pointed out, getting a face cloth and dampening it before putting it to his forehead. “You’re run down.”

“You’re one to talk, you look like you could sleep for a week.”

“Running across one of the largest airports in the world for a connecting flight was not fun, but overall I am fine, I miss my bed.”

“I ruined it.”

“The bed?” He nodded sheepishly, “I’ll get clean sheets, you sit here for a moment,” She put down the toilet seat. Tom silently did as instructed.

It took only a few moments to change the bed, she also opened the window slightly so that the room would get some fresh air. It was raining, but not overly cold so it would not require her to put the heating on for longer. When she was done she brought the sheets down and placed them beside the washing machine before heading back upstairs, making sure the lights were off and the doors were locked as she did. It was only eight at night, but she was tired and Tom was sick, no one was going to get up again soon, she thought.

In the bedroom, Tom was almost like a zombie as he made his way back from the bathroom to the bed. “Come on,” She led him back. “No, stay standing for a second, I need to get these off you.”

“You just want me for my body,” He joked as she pulled off his pants.

Danielle couldn’t help but laugh, “We both knew that from the start.” She jibbed. “Drink this.” Tom did as instructed and though he hated the taste. She then helped him with his shirt and lifted the duvet up for him. “Are you tired?”

“Yes.” Tom groaned again as he fell into the bed.

“If you’re still ill in the morning, we’ll get you to the doctor, until then, we’ll catch up on sleep.” She smiled, getting into the bed next to him. Tom pulled her to him, even though he was still warm from his bug, Danielle curled into him. “I missed you.” She kissed his hand that was around her.

“I missed you too,” Tom kissed her shoulder.

“Get some rest, Tom.” Danielle was falling asleep as she spoke.

When Tom woke the next morning, he was relieved to feel better. Beside him on the nightstand was another one of Danielle’s toxic but effective rehydration drinks. He sat up and downed the mixture so that he would get rid of the last of whatever he was enduring. Turning slightly at the peculiar noise next to him, he looked to see Danielle asleep, her hair covering her face. Chuckling, he pulled it back and bit his lips together as he watched her snort in her sleep, he could not call it snoring, as that had a rhythm to it, but occasionally, whatever way she was breathing with her mouth open, she snorted. He looked at her guiltily, wondering how long she had waited for him at the airport. Had she rung his sister to collect her, gotten a cab or taken the Tube, he felt terrible for not even thinking to contact her. He noted she seemed to be a tad pale, he wondered if he had passed his illness to her. He could not recall if she had looked like that on her return the night before; only that she had tended to him, selflessly and lovingly. She would have been exhausted, but she made the bed with fresh sheets, smiling at him to not worry as she went to do so. Part of him wanted to wake her and thank her, to tell her he loved her for what she was and what she had done, but he knew she was tired, so he left her sleep, instead choosing to get a shower, knowing that he needed one desperately. When he was done, he was slightly shocked to see that Danielle had not even moved in the bed, instead she seemed to be snoring slightly now. Tom realised before that she usually did that when she was at her most exhausted. He went downstairs and looked around. He was startled to see there was no sign of Mac, then cursed for not remembering to collect the dog in his illness. He found his phone, which was dead, and put it on charge. Thinking for a moment, he went to put on the kettle but then thought against it, instead he decided that given the past few days, both he and Danielle deserved a treat, so he ran to the café down the street and got them both their favourite drinks and pastries before heading back to the house. He groaned as a photographer caught sight of him and for some reason thought him getting coffees was something of considerable note and proceeded to take loads of pictures.

When he arrived back, he went straight to the kitchen to see if his phone had enough charge to turn it on. “Hey.”

“Good morning, you look a lot better.” Danielle was standing at the kettle, waiting for it to boil, and loving smile on her face. He walked over and gave her a passionate kiss. “A very good morning then?”

“The best.” He held up the items he bought. “A gift, as my apology.”

“Apology for what?” She asked, taking the caramel latte from the cup holder.

“Not collecting you.” He stated meekly.

“What? Tom, you were sick, you don’t need to apologise for that.” She laughed. “I won’t say no to my favourite coffee and an apple Danish though, no matter what the excuse or reason.” Tom pulled out the two pastries and handed her one. “Thank you. So how are you now?”

“Hungry, what about you?”

“Same, I didn’t eat too much in New Orleans, the food was all gumbo’s and stuff and I just was suspicious of everything.”

“I was down South for I Saw the Light, the food is something you have to be careful with, it can have a huge kick to it and not have any sign of it.” Danielle smiled and nodded, Tom’s face fell. “The interview?” Danielle shook her head. “Elle, I…I’m so sorry, did they give you any feedback?”

“The assistant director is Lena Dunham.” Tom’s face filled with recognition. “She said no, so that was it.”

“Elle, it’s my fault…”

“No, it’s not. You held decorum and class after everything, if her friends or even she wants to get petty, then that is not our doing. I was talking to Lucas, he was asked to do a war film here, Normandy and in Ireland. He’s too busy but he told them about me, no interview or anything, it’s mine if I want it.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“Well gunfire, tanks, explosions and filth is the general gist of war stuff, so loads of headaches regarding safety, but it is being done with the help of a good friend of yours.” Tom looked at her. “Branagh.”

“He is an amazing man, honestly, one of the most incredible directors I’ve worked with.”

“I know. He wants to talk to me one on one to see if I can work with his idea. Apparently sometimes when a door closes, the sidewall of the house comes off. Branagh has a lot of influence, Lucas is his usual go-to man, but this redoing this safety thing is his only project this year, so he recommended me. If I can work this…” She smiled, “Jesus if I can actually get Branagh on my resume if I do this right…”

Tom pulled her to him, “You will, you are meticulous and intelligent, I know you will fly through this, wait and see.”

“He is in London next week.”

“Great.”

“I said I would meet him, but also that if possible could I bring my partner with me.” Tom looked at her blankly. “It was his wife I was talking to, when she asked who said partner was and relayed the message, he was elated apparently. So, fancy coming to lunch with me and Kenneth Branagh next week?”

Tom pulled her to him. “I will gladly accompany my beautiful girlfriend to her work meeting with the world-famous director next week.” He beamed. “Look at you Elle, less than a year in and you are getting all this done.”

“Visualisation. I thought it and look what’s happening; you, Mac, who we will collect after our coffees, my exams, my promotions, so to speak, it has to be deemed a promotion when you are a consultant for a huge studio,” Tom nodded in agreement. “Getting to work on Game of Thrones and now, having a business lunch with Kenneth fucking Branagh.”

“You are driven.” He kissed her again.

“I’m swinging with the big dicks now.” Tom looked at her in shock. “It’s an expression.”

“Irish people are nuts.”

#I Hate You I Love You #tom hiddleston #Tom hiddleston fic #wolfpawn

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statusquoergo · 5 years

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Luckily for us, after the debacle that was last week’s episode, this one really has nowhere to go but up.

Aside from pretending that that big dramatic fight at the end of the previous episode never happened, they didn’t do too badly with it, either.

First of all, because Donna prides herself on keeping the firm together, Faye calls her to inform her that she’s fired Samantha, and Faye knows that when everyone acts against her, “it won’t be through proper channels,” and if Donna doesn’t stop them, the firm likely won’t survive the year (another reminder that the senior partners threatening a mass resignation was utterly toothless). That’s a good and true point and all that but I have to ask, did Donna move into Harvey’s place at some point and I missed it? Why wasn’t that a bigger deal? Or is she just over there like, all the time?

That’s a pretty minor concern, in the grand scheme of things, it’s just been bugging me. Anyway Samantha goes to Robert because after she was fired, she “didn’t know where else to go,” and Robert, who already knows about the outcome of the Mike Ross case because of course he does (even though it wrapped, like, yesterday), tells her to sit tight because her partners are probably already at work on a plan to kick Faye out of the firm and get Samantha her job back. Samantha isn’t so sure; “Harvey’s the reason [she] got fired in the first place,” after all. And he doesn’t trust you anymore, you mean, mean lady.

Harvey, Louis, Donna, and Alex are, in fact, meeting on the Rooftop of Major Decisions to figure out how they’re going to get rid of Faye and get Samantha her job back (that was quick); they agree to “find something” in Faye’s apparently spotless record that’ll prompt the NYSBA to remove her (even though a special master is under the purview of the judiciary…). In a lingering shot that's definitely not foreshadowing anything, Donna elects to respond with a nervous expression rather than a verbal agreement (despite the fact that reporting Faye to the NYSBA was, as of about a minute ago, her idea).

Hey, did you know this show is sponsored by Lexus? Lexus would really like to remind you that Suits is sponsored by Lexus. So as Harvey steps out of his dramatically center-frame Lexus, Robert accosts him to give him shit for not getting Faye out of the firm fast enough, even though it’s been about two days, and they came up with a plan last night. (Truly this show exists in another realm of time and space.) Harvey defends himself for yelling at Samantha for lying to his face (specifically counter to Robert’s assertion that he yelled at her because her fabrication was an attack on Mike, which, hurtful), and Robert clues him in that Faye fired Samantha because she saw them fighting in the middle of Samantha’s office. Because him dragging her down to the file room would’ve been way less suspicious.

Apparently Katrina’s amazing idea to delete Brian’s voicemail wasn’t so amazing after all, because if she’d bothered to listen to it, she might not be so blindsided to find him in her office with a suit against Katrina’s client, Kurt’s Coffee, on behalf of his client Kurt, who’s decided he was forced out of the company even though Katrina is quite certain that he left of his own volition and was fairly compensated. She threatens to have Brian thrown off the case due to conflict of interest, being that he represented Kurt’s Coffee when he worked at ZSLWW, but he asks her not to do that on the grounds that his move “hasn’t gone great” and he really needs this to impress the partners. She declines to have him removed but will nevertheless be filing a motion to dismiss, which he’s totally fine with. That’s so almost professional of them, I’m so proud.

Overtly demonstrating how truly unnecessary it was for Robert to threaten Harvey, Louis arrives at Harvey’s office to opine that chatting up Faye’s ex-husband George is their best bet for digging up shit on her, except that the divorce settlement is sealed and he might not talk to them. Harvey dismisses the issue by saying that they’ll make him, and I honestly can’t tell if he’s being overly confident, or depressed and uncaring.

Next up, Alex takes a truly bizarre reading of Faye’s behavior when he approaches Donna to play the lead plaintiff in a suit against Faye on the grounds that she has a problem with strong women. To wit, she tried to strip Donna of her vote (point of order, she would have been equally satisfied to accept Harvey losing his vote), she took Gretchen from Louis against her will (point of order, Gretchen offered her services so Donna could go on a date with Harvey), and she fired Samantha without proof (point of order, she saw Harvey and Samantha yelling about fabricating evidence and when confronted, Samantha cleared Harvey’s name but not her own). Alex probably just forgot to mention the part where she took Louis's managing partnership. Donna refuses to “go after another woman on false pretenses,” which I guess is our feminism quota for the…season, and clarifies that she didn’t actually join in on the rooftop agreement to do “whatever it takes” to get rid of Faye, not to mention the fact that “shit like this is exactly why she’s here in the first place.” Alex immediately apologizes, fessing up that he feels bad for not warning Samantha that Faye asked him to spy on her out of the suspicion that she would do “exactly what she did.” Donna helpfully points out that Faye spying on them isn’t exactly a secret, Samantha chose to “cross a line” anyway, and if Alex really wants to help her, he should probably go stop her from doing whatever stupid shortsighted thing she’s going to do to make things worse.

Speaking of, Samantha is meeting up with her old buddy Tom, who you’d be forgiven for forgetting was introduced in “Managing Partner” (s08e10) as the dude who enlisted Samantha as an FBI informant against Jarvis, Ellis, and Green (former owners of the firm currently known as Rand Kaldor); Samantha wants to cash in her chit to get the FBI to dig up some dirt on Faye, but Tom won’t let himself be burned twice, so he demands information on her client Gavin Andrews in exchange. Samantha argues that any information she knew before yesterday is covered by attorney-client privilege, Tom conveniently forgets about the crime-fraud exception and orders her to “get some shit on him starting today,” she frets that Andrews doesn’t trust her anymore, and Tom says that the terms of his offer are non-negotiable. So take that.

You know what show had a cute and not-offensive take on the whole “two people of the same gender being understandably mistaken for a couple” trope? Parks and Recreation. You know what show does not so much? Suits. Harvey and Louis apparently secured their meeting with Faye’s ex by posing as a couple purchasing a term life insurance policy, but George calls bullshit on that immediately because Harvey is way too hot to be marrying Louis. So…yay, equal rights. George explains that the line he crossed was over-billing his firm’s three biggest clients and using the surplus to fund some class actions, and Faye reported him to the Ethics Board as soon as she found out, but boy isn’t it weird that she “squeezed every nickle” out of him and then let him keep his license?

Susan approaches Katrina at the copy machine, the firm’s second most appropriate and third most common place for people to accost each other with requests for favors (less appropriate than the offices but ahead of the bathroom), to offer her services in the Kurt’s Coffee suit, and Katrina eventually admits that she wants to be “armed to the teeth with case law” when she makes her motion to dismiss. Susan seems rather pleased, and I gotta say, I’m liking this dynamic.

Lo and behold, George was telling the truth about the divorce settlement: Faye cleaned him out. But! Louis doesn’t trust him, and his story doesn’t line up with the Faye they know. Fair enough, but wait a second— “It’s easy to not care about money when you have it.” George’s testimony won’t be enough to prove that Faye took the money to pursue her dream of becoming a special master, but Louis knows where to start.

Alex finds Samantha in the gym demonstrating some truly lackluster boxing skills and offers to help her with whatever plan she’s devised to get back at Faye, but it seems that turning Gavin Andrews in to the FBI is too batshit insane, even for him, because the “list of shit” Andrews has on her will land her in prison for sure. Samantha yet again brings up her tumultuous childhood, and silly me thinking she was going to say something about the firm feeling like a real family, the problem here is actually that she promised herself that once she aged out of the foster system, she’d “never feel that powerless again.” She and Alex figure out that the one person in the world Andrews trusts less than Samantha is his niece, who owes them one on account of the fact that they previously told her that Andrews was using her name in his tax evasion scheme (not sure I follow that, but okay), so they’re going to do…something. Sounds good.

Apparently Louis and Harvey think Faye did more than just screw over her ex-husband; they think she “manipulated the Ethics Board for personal gain,” and they need Gretchen’s help to prove it: They want her to reach out to her contacts at her former place of employment for any dirt she can dig up on Faye. She agrees…on the condition that Harvey throw Louis a baby shower. Because he wants one. And like, I can see how this might seem cute or sentimental or whatever, if you’re into that sort of thing, but it’s also mild emotional blackmail (not as bad as Donna gunning for COO, but still), or at least extortion, and definitely wildly inappropriate workplace behavior, not the least of it because they’re her superiors.

Part II

#suits usa #s09e06 #season 9 #analysis

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hollenius · 5 years

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Assorted Better Call Saul thoughts while I sit around waiting for season 5

-waiting between seasons for new episodes gives me sympathy for Jimmy having to wait out his 12 month suspension

-...honestly, I am having increasing difficulty sympathizing with Jimmy about much of anything else. I rewatched all of season 1 in December and started rewatching season 2 last week, and I’m so annoyed at him squandering Kim and Howard’s faith in him. People who blame Chuck for everything that ever went wrong in Jimmy’s life ignore how much of it Jimmy put wrong himself, when people kept giving him second, third, fourth chances over and over again.

- Jimmy McGill/Saul Goodman really should NOT be a lawyer, because I still never get a sense that there is any reason he wanted to be one, other than to impress Chuck and Kim, to try and make himself worthy of each of them in their own respective ways. The s4 finale hammered this home pretty hard, but it was always there anyway. The problem is that Chuck was never going to trust him (the fandom hates him for it, but HE WAS RIGHT), and that Kim, unfortunately, was always going to trust him. Her faith in him will probably be coming to an end, but it frustrates me that it took her so long to realize that she deserves better.

-I used to think Kim would have her career destroyed as collateral damage for something Jimmy did, but I really think now that it’ll be something she’s done that will do her in. I don’t think she will die, but I think she’s in for a serious blow of some sort, more than just the car crash. I think her prolonged close association with Jimmy has morally compromised her in subtle ways that she’s unwilling to even admit to herself. Season 2 marked the course of her gradually slipping standards, but the Huell scam went far beyond what Jimmy did back then in just making a video of a man sitting in a pie. I think part of the cause of Kim’s scamming and acting out in s4 might be her way of processing her guilt in the Chuck debacle--she felt bad about it even when Chuck was still alive. Her whole practice and the subsequent rise of her career was based around Mesa Verde, which she only got back from HHM after Jimmy committed a felony, gaslit his brother about it, and then got into trouble trying to cover it up, which snowballed into bigger problems from there.The guilt weighs heavy on her even though she did the least to precipitate any of the events that led up to it.

-I still love that Howard is literally in mourning dress for all of season 4. No knitted ties and Hamlindigo blue, just drab colors. Even in the s4 finale, he’s still very sartorially subdued compared to his attire before Chuck’s death. I know it’s not the Howard show, but I almost wish we saw a little more of him that season, because I was shocked at what an emotional wreck he turned into.

-I want to know what song Kim sang at karaoke at Jimmy’s bar-passing party. (It wasn’t Bohemian Rhapsody, but I still want to know!)

-the closer the timeline pulls to Breaking Bad, the more irritated I get by the Breaking Bad-esque parts of the show. Idk. The cartel stuff bores me to tears. I feel like Gus has been used really poorly so far (silly me, holding out for more backstory), and I was frustrated by how Gale just felt like fanservice. I love Gale, I loved seeing him again, but I don’t think seeing him served any purpose other than making fans happy, and that upsets me.

-I love that they made Gale sing again, though. And Tom Lehrer, at that! (But not as much as I love them finding an excuse to have Chuck sing ABBA. Now I want to know how/why Chuck is familiar with cheesy European pop...he doesn’t seem the sort. He contains multitudes...)

-I’m still bugged at how the birthdates & graduation dates & stuff given for Chuck in s4 messed up all my preexisting headcanons about McGill family dynamics. If Chuck’s birthdate gets pushed all the way back to 1944, but his high school graduation gets pushed up to when he was 14 in 1958, when would he & Jimmy have even been around together growing up? When did the whole business with Jimmy stealing from the till get discovered? How old was Jimmy when his dad died? The flashback with Jimmy in the store with his dad is from 1973, going by the magazines. We don’t know how old Jimmy is supposed to be there.(Chuck’s “Chicanery” rant suggests Jimmy’s theft from the till started at age 9, but if Jimmy is 9 in ‘73 then that would put the age gap between him and Chuck at around 20 years, which is INSANE; it’s more like a father-son age gap than two brothers. I’m choosing to believe Jimmy’s supposed to be older than that in that scene.) In 1973, Chuck would be 29, but IIRC when he was talking to KIm he described helping out with the books for the family shop when he was home from college, but that would’ve been when Jimmy was literally a baby, so basically everything has been torpedoed all to hell and the important thing is that I can’t write the pre-canon fanfic I want to write because of the confusion

#better call saul #bcs s4 spoilers #jimmy mcgill #kim wexler #chuck mcgill #howard hamlin #gus fring #gale boetticher #(my god i cannot spell gale's last name for the life of me)#i think i become less sympathetic towards jimmy and more sympathetic towards chuck the more i rewatch any of the earlier seasons #this seems to be the opposite reaction from most people online #tv

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sveasauvageon · 4 years

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Congratulations, you have achieved peak millennial || GW

☾♔; March 11, 2018 ☾♔; sotd: That's how you write a song ⠀⠀⠀ by Alexander Rybak ☾♔; comedian otd: Sarah Millican ☾♔; Audition {a mod example} ☾♔; {G} https://goo.gl/XSTtMc ☾♔; mod(s): @.themadmonarchist @.maybones et moi

Title: from a Bill Maher joke (I like some of his stuff)

FINALLY done with this.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ஜ۩۞۩ஜ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀Svea Richelle Estelle Sauvageon, (16-17, 17 by Nov.) ⠀⠀⠀Gick längst stränder av guld ⠀⠀⠀Såg solen färga himmeln röd ⠀⠀⠀Och där sanden ännu är varm ⠀⠀⠀Av dina steg vill jag sätta fötter ⠀⠀⠀Och alla minnen som jag nu bär ⠀⠀⠀Finns där som skatter i mitt bröst

⠀⠀⠀Translation ⠀⠀⠀(according to the lyrics translate website): ⠀I walked along beaches of gold ⠀Saw the sun paint the sky red ⠀And where the sand was still warm ⠀From your steps is where I want to put my feet ⠀And all the memories I carry with me, ⠀Remain there like treasures in my chest

Allt man kan önska sig by Eric Saade https://goo.gl/t5NgUv (I was totally gonna go with a Dima song, egoist, but I wanted a swedish song for my swede)

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⚜️ THE BASICS

Nickname: Vea (Vay-ah), S (Minah, Eloise, and other close elites), Duchess S (by Gossip Witch), the Swede, Estelle/Stella (by her Grandmama), my moon and stars (Grandpapa), Richelle (her mother and maternal grandfather), princess (papa), Her/Your Royal Highness and älskling (henry), storasyster (Lili and Xander)

Gender: cis-female

Date of Birth: November 23

Place of Birth: Enköping, Sweden

Nationality: British-Swedish

Ethnicity: caucasian (of Frankish, Swedish, and anglo-saxon descent)

Accent: alternates between Swedish and Posh English, usually depending on her level of anger/passion

Blood Status: pure-blood (though, not the purest. Her mother's family is a straight-up blood-purist type family, but her father's is far more open, and if you trace back 5 generations, there's a muggle-born, as well as muggles and etc further back. So technically, she is a "pure" blood, since that term is generally applied to someone whose ancestors up to their grandparents have no muggle or muggle-born blood, but there are numerous muggles and muggle-borns if you go back beyond that, on her father's side. Her mother's is as inbred as the royal families of the real world.)

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⚜️ PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

Face Claim: Cara Delevingne

Hair: Blonde (sometimes magically died platinum/silvery-gold because actual nerd). Long, and generally tied into a different style everyday; ponytails, elaborate braids, etc. When's she's feeling lazy, she'll just leave it free, yet it always ends up perfectly straight without any effort on her part.

Eyes: light blue

Height: 1.73m

Weight: idk, presumably light

Body: slim and athletic

Any Scars/ Marks?: n/a

Any Tattoos/ Piercings?: just her ears, triple pierced for ear cuffs (are they all dragons? Yes), but also, maybe she'll get a dragon tattoo one day.

Quirks/ Mannerisms: n/a (I probably mixed this in with the habits section)

Style: erratic, she wears numerous styles, and doesn't really have one exactly, though if you wanted to summarize her closet in a single word; expensive would be that word. She prefers clothes of silk, cashmere, and/or leather, and tends towards gem embellished things. Her style is basically "I like" and "I do not like", it's quite simplistic, like, in the way she chooses her clothes. Emilio Pucci is probs her favourite brand, also Gucci and Valentino. Also, also D&G and Elie Saab, but that just goes without saying.

Additional Information: #OnWednesdaysWeWearWhite

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⚜️ PERSONALITY:

Head cannon: Svea's a bit of an oddball slytherin (as in she doesn't fit the general mold of a slytherin, she only comes off as crazy to people who witness one of her Eurovision rants, which is around 80% of the stuff that comes out of her mouth so meh, she's got a little bit of a rep as a nutty swede). She can seem standoff-ish or intimidating at first glance, her entire vibe is "arrogant and proud", and "proud of her arrogance", however, she's extremely outspoken and often involves herself in situations that she has nothing to do with (especially if someone is bugging one of her friends or she sees/hears something "stupid" aka bullying) and is a lot more approachable once she starts speaking. She's quite outgoing, and easily befriends people, as well as being well-mannered and polite (even towards people she hates. She makes her hatred clear, but she'll be saying "fu.ck off" with a smile and a "please and thank you"). She generally comes off as a very bossy "Swede" (and she's proud of that. The world would be a better place if everyone strived to be a little more like Sweden).

Theme Song: shall we begin by Ramin djawadi {https://goo.gl/9Px2Ne}

Strengths: Hardworking, passionate persevering, unrelenting, obsessive (I'd call it a strength), adoring/doting (bordering on becoming a negative trait though), highly self-aware, nerdy af, dedicated, ambitious, resourceful, and cunning (duh-doi, slytherin), independent, protective, proactive, aggressively European/Swedish

+Mom Friend: she's a total mom-friend (even fits in with her sort of GG role), she's ridiculously protective of and invested in her friends and family. It's not inherently a bad thing, hence it's in the strength list, she follows their love lives and is somehow always around to lend an ear/shoulder/offer to hex the fu.ck out of someone. She's always around to give (unsolicited) advice to friends, and really, everyone. However, her mom-friend behaviour can go to the negative extremes because not only is she willing to forgive anything someone she loves does, but she'd also go to any length to protect them, including ruining the lives of others (or literally ending said life) if she feels someone she loves is threatened in anyway. She has a lot of resources at her disposal and uses all of them to protect those she loves. Flashy social takedowns aren't really her thing, it's more framing someone for an illegal act and having them sent to some kind of prison. Her protective behaviour can border on the socio or psychopathic, as she displays a complete lack of empathy for the person who hurt her loved one (regardless of how small that hurt may have been) and seems to lack the ability to see them as another living creature, also seems to relish in the pain she caused that person, displaying a somewhat sadistic side of her as well.

+Boss As.s Bi.tch: she's commanding AF (behaviour she inherited from her Grandmama tbh), she's not as bossy when it comes to her circle of friends. There's an equal playing field there, but for anyone she does not consider a close friend, she's always bossy, her commanding tone increasing on how beneath her she thinks someone is.

Weaknesses: Elitist, unforgiving (except when it comes to people she loves, she's so forgiving of them), somewhat vain (but like, look at her), arrogant, narcissistic, elitist (though, you have to earn the right to be elitist in her eyes), manipulative (duh-doi, that's just basic slytherin-ing), cunning, b.tchy, salty, snarky, stubborn, relentless, aggressive.

+Superiority Complex: like, she doesn't think it's a problem, but it technically is. Her core belief is that if you want respect, earn it, and she feels she's worked hard to accomplish all that she has (well, except her money, that she was born into), so she has earned it.

+Hypocrisy: whilst she claims she has high moral standards, and certainly acts like she's above the idiotic "dark" behaviour her house has a reputation for, but when it comes to her friends, she forgives basically everything. She's like one of those mom's of bad kids who defends them regardless of what stupid shít they've done willingingly, like "Paul Ryan, you should know better. You know my son doesn't know anything about healthcare. Donnie trusted you, he's a slow boy. He's a slow boy, look at him! You took advantage of him." (It's an old, in this day and age, joke made by Trevor Noah about one of Trump's fox news defenders after the healthcare debacle). Anyway, Svea's friends could literally burn down the school or her house or kill someone and she'd be all "okay, here's how we're going to handle the authorities sweetie". Like, she wouldn't even question why did it. The only time she'd struggle with forgiving someone she loves would be if they hurt someone else she loves.

+a messy bítch who loves drama: it's low-key, somewhat, she's certainly not looking to start drama, but she absolutely, 100% wants to hear about it (hence she follows gossip witch), and if it's negatively affecting someone she cares about, she will involve herself to protect them, aggressively.

+Internalizing: she's not so good at sharing her own problems and/or feelings. Whilst she's always around to talk about her friend's issues and feels, when it comes to herself, she tends to shove it down between 60 layers of jokes and salt. When genuinely hurt by something or someone, she tends to just walk away and brood silently in a dark corner. She sees herself as a leader and believes that leader's can't go around showing weakness, so she struggles to open up about that side to even her closest friends.

Habits: - eye rolling (so much eye rolling) - tends to tune out her entire environment when she's in "the zone" (no longer walks and reads because she has run into and fallen off of stuff) - twirls her hair with her wand when she's thinking (like how we use fingers) - Swears a lot - hums Eurovision songs around 90% of the time - corrects people, all the time. She can't not correct people.

Skills/ Talents: - multilingual (English, Swedish, French, Russian, German, and Danish) - magic (she has yet to encounter a form of magic she does not immediately excel at) - memory (it's not really eidetic or photographic, because it's not instant, but after 3 reads of a thing, she can rattle off the whole thing word for word) - making references (that's a talent right? Because otherwise, I am screwed) - emotional manipulation/acting (works best on people that don't know her, she can still manipulate other people, but it takes a little more effort and time) - obsessing (again, totally a talent right because otherwise I have literally no skills)

Any mental health issues: She's got some deeply buried mommy issues, and her narcissism is probably on the borderline of crossing into a disorder. But meh, nothing she's been diagnosed with, and definitely nothing that affects her daily. Actually, her perpetual repression of that could/should cause her emotional distress is probs another disorder, but again, eh. It'll probably all explode one day in some kind of breakdown, but she's basically fine.

♣️ Favorite Quotes/ Sayings that your character would use: - "I'm not better than you because my grandparents had magical parents. I'm better than you because I'm smarter, prettier, and more accomplished."

- "urg, fu.ck you."

- "urg, you're/she's/he's/they're the worst."

- "you should do what I say or my son-in-law (Tyler) is going to hit you."

- "duh-doi"

- "that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

- "what, am I supposed to be impressed?"

- "if you want to buy my forgiveness, start with a Fabergé egg."

- "I am a bi.tch when I wanna be."

- "You win some, you lose some. Except for me/us, I/we always win."

- "I'll pass on that glass of non-premium liquor you're drinking."

- Tbh, she says urg a lot. And a lot of swearing.

- "I care. I care a lot. It's kinda my thing." (Leslie Knope quote, but like, that's Svea @ all her smol beans. aka friends and fam, many of whom are taller than her or her height, but they're all smol precious beans that need her protection)

♣️ Swedish sayings/phrases she uses: - "Pfft, well now you've taken a poop in a blue cabinet." (I dunno the Swedish for this one, it could just be a joke, Alicia Vikander mentioned it when she was on the Graham Norton show. I don't think she's lying, because Alicia's amazing, but she could just be fu.cking with us.)

- "You can't come here and slide in on a shrimp sandwich." (I dunno the Swedish for this one either, it could also just be a joke, Alicia Vikander also mentioned it when she was on the Graham Norton show. I don't think she's lying, because Alicia's amazing, but she could just be fu.cking with us, possibly again. It's said to someone if they're being too ostentascious or acting superior, or says something that smacks of class warfare)

- "Better breadless than clueless" ("Bättre brödlös än rådlös" in Swedish. Apparently the English equivalent is; "Better short of pence than short of sense." But I've literally never heard of it in my life. )

- "throw yourself in the wall" ("Släng dig i väggen" in swedish, apparently it's the equivalent to "take a hike".)

- "bring your spikes down" ("Tagga ned" in Swedish. Apparently it's the equivalent to "chill" )

- "no cow on the ice" ("Ingen ko på isen" in Swedish. Apparently it's the equivalent to "no worries")

- "[pronoun is] forest crazy" ("Skogstokig" in Swedish, it's the equivalent to calling someone "raging mad")

- "dressed up to his/her/their teeth" ("Klädd up till tänderna" in Swedish, the equivalent to "dressed to the nines", supposedly.)

- "[pronoun]'s hair hurts" ("Ont i håret" in Swedish, the equivalent for the term "hungover")

- "Taste is like your bum, divided" ("Smaken är som baken, delad" in Swedish, I don't think there's an equivalent per say, but it's basically about people's shi.tty opinions.)

- "If there's room in the heart there's room for the arse." ("Finns det hjärterum så finns det stjärterum" in Swedish, apparently Swede's talk about behinds, this is meant to be welcoming people into their home. I fu.cking love Sweden you guys, it's wild.)

Additional Information: - Well, my extra bit about her swedish phrases probs coulda gone here, but eh. - Also, also, she's kind of OCD, it's not really on a disorder level, which why it's here, because she's not "neat" by our standards, or the standards of someone who actually has OCD, she calls it "controlled chaos", her stuff is literally everywhere, but she always knows where her things are and always knows when someone's touched it or moved it like 2 inches to the left. - tends to get hangry (poutine is the best solution to that problem btw)

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⚜️ BIOGRAPHY

Likes: stupid puns, muggle space exploration science, quidditch (Vrastra Vultures forever btches!), winter, snow, muggle technology, EUROVISION (hey, she's a European, and a Swede, they love the Eurovision), Melodifestivalen, muggle EuroPop music, football (aka soccer, but she European, she call it by its proper name. Also, ARSENAL FOREVER BÌTCHES), Aaron Ramsey, muggle history, magical history, the stars, the night sky, a song of ice and fire (of course), Dragons, Sweden, magic, her wand (precious), Tolkien's Middle-Earth, Vhagar (precious baby), muggle comedy panel shows, herself (ya seen her? She's real pretty), emeralds, satin, muggle drinks (vodka and ice coffee with caramel are delicious, she will fight you), firewhiskey, rain, kittens, dragons, shipping her friends with each other

Dislikes: rude people (there's a difference between being full of yourself and having manners), Hogwarts magic interfering with her muggle shít, her housemates making fun of her muggle shít (like, excuse me, but can your old af radio playing all 1000+ Eurovision songs at any time of day? That's what I thought), "woman" being used as an insult (she is a woman, and better than you, so fúck off), bertie botts every flavour bean (it's the "every" flavour that repulses her), idioticy, unearned elitism (if you wanna act superior, fine, but at least have something that makes you superior, and blood is not one of those things), Cornwall, camomile tea (it's disgusting), corduroy, roses, her things being moved/touched

Hobbies: reading, learning, football, just hanging out with her friends (forcing them to watch Eurovision)

Any health problems? (allergies, illnesses, etc): n/a

♣️ Family Background

:: Sauvageon Aesthetics: :: https://goo.gl/u4nRiU *contains a tiny bit about the Prince's at the end* Svea is from two notable families (though, even she argues about the notoriety of her mother's family, she would say that they are, in fact, not of note).

The Prince Family Through her mother, Svea is the heir to the Prince Family, a British Wizarding Family who are absolutely psychotic when it comes to blood purity. They are an old family, left off the list of the "Scared Twenty-Eight" for unclear reasons, though Marcius Prince claims it's due an ancestors' very public liaisons and relations with muggle royalty/nobility. Old and pure-blood proud, the Princes are fervent purportors of the concept of blood supremacy and purity, and proud Slytherins. Having all been sorted into the House dating back to Salazar Slytherin himself (or so they claim). Due to centuries of inbreeding with other pureblood families (who are all cousins at this point), the Princes tend to have the following traits; violent tendencies, mental instability, and some are enfeebled (though the family goes to great lengths to hide and eliminate such members). Additionally, due to their close genetics, the family additionally has trouble conceiving, generally ending up with only one child born per generation. Their numbers are currently dwindling, and the name is expected to die if Svea's mother doesn't have another child (or not if Svea agrees to take their name, solid no on that though).

The House of Sauvageon The Sauvageon's are a very family old wizarding family, they were originally French, and later immigrated to Sweden in the late 1700's. Unlike most ancient wizarding families (particularly the British ones), they have never shied away from breeding with muggles and muggleborns, often gaining the label of "blood traitor" from the British families, but they're Swedish, and blood density is irrelevant there. There are as liberal and socialist as their country. Despite being loathed by the blood purist-type families, they are still approached very few generations for marital matches, as they are exceedingly wealthy and when the aforementioned house runs out of options.

♣️ Family Affiliation: Swedish Ministry of Magic, Durmstrang Institute of Magic (not a happy association, but it's their homeschool, and most Sauvageon's have attended it), House of Bernadotte, House of Châteaudun (and their successive houses), and the Riddarhuset (The House of Nobility in Sweden -- don't really have any power or special tax exemptions anymore, basically protection of historical titles and coat of arms)

Socio-economic status: More money than God(s), HBO, and Netflix combined ♣️ Family Members:

▪️ Father: Petter Sauvageon | Colin Firth | 50 (if alive) | Dragonologist | missing, presumed dead

▪️ Mother: Diana Prince | Rachel Weisz | 47 | works at the British Ministry of Magic at The Department of International Magical Cooperation, specifically in the International Magical Office of Law (aiming to become Minister for Magic one day, which would suck for everyone that's not a pureblood) | alive

▪️ Step-Mother: Iliana Drubetskaya | Lena Headey | 44 | former Quidditch player, Quidditch commentator/reporter now | alive

▪️ Younger Half-Sister: Lena Sauvageon | Dafne Keen | 12 | second year student at Koldovstoretz | alive

▪️ Paternal Grandfather: Ludvig Sauvageon | Sir Patrick Stewart | 77 | socialite and patriarch, former politician | alive

▪️ Paternal Grandmother: Linnéa Sauvageon | Dame Judi Dench | 78 | socialite and matriarch | alive

▪️ Paternal Aunt: Brigitta Sauvageon | Gillian Anderson | 46 | Politician, shadowy, high-ranking role in the Swedish Ministry of Magic | alive

▪️ Paternal Uncle: Kåre Sauvageon | James D'Arcy | 45 | Art Collector | alive

▪️ Paternal Cousin: Viggo Sauvageon | Mooms-mooms | 21 | Curse-Breaker for Rökstenen Wizarding Bank (the Swedish counterpart to Gringotts) | pretty, I mean alive

▪️ Maternal Grandfather: Marcius Prince | Sir Michael Caine | 80 | socialite, patriarch, author (of very anti-muggle/muggle-born books) | alive

**the families are further expanded upon here: https://goo.gl/d1pTdj (storyboard) & here: https://goo.gl/Dm6mpM {aesthetics collection with captions, primarily focused on the Sauvageons}

♣️ What is your character's relationship with their family? She has a very positive and close relationship with her paternal family. They were (and remain) her primary guardians, and growing up with the Sauvageon's in Sweden very much molded her into the person she is. Her grandmother is her role model, her sister is her *Gollum voice* precious, her step-mother inspired her to play Quidditch, her father instigated her love of eurovision and dragons, she considers the Sauvageon's her home. Her maternal family on the other hand, "poor" would be an understatement. Svea and her maternal grandfather (Marcius) actively hate each other, and it's not much better than that with her mother.

♣️ Which family member does your character feel the closest to? She's quite close with her entire paternal family, but as of the last 12 years, it's definitely been her younger sister; Lili. She's a protective type of person, so having the responsibility of an older sibling was an absolute dream come true for this nerd.

Happiest Memory: she has quite a few, but the absolute number one would be the time she attended a Eurovision song contest with her father as a child (mathematically, but vaguely, it was probs around Marija, Dima, or Alexander's win).

Saddest Memory: when she learned that her father went missing. Like, it could be various arguments/standoffs with her mother, but her method for dealing with that is walking away/burying it, with her father going missing, there wasn't anyone to be angry at or someone to walk away from. Someone she loved was taken from her and she was literally powerless to do anything about it. Probably also why she's such an aggressive mom friend, on a subconscious level, she goes out of her to ensure someone she loves cannot be taken again.

How does your OC feel about pureblood supremacy?: She hates the "concept", and thinks it's the most idiotic thing ever thought up by someone. She was raised on Swedish ideals, a very liberal and socialist nation where blood purity or "impurity" is irrelevant, blood is blood, move the fck on. Muggle-borns have time and again been shown to be as powerful as any "pureblood", not to mention it's scientifically impossible for a person to have absolutely no muggle blood in their family histories, the wizarding population is too small when compared to the muggle population in the world, the species would've die out.

How does your OC feel about muggles/ half-bloods? Does your OC think they should be a part of the magical community? Of course they should be part of the magical community. Honestly, she supports the idea of reintegrating the magical and muggle worlds. What are they gonna do? Spread a nerve agent in their shops? They have magic and could easily handle any weapon the muggles send their way. She doesn't really understand why they have to hide.

Quick facts: Svea is half-Swedish, half-British, but was raised as a Swede from birth. Her mother's family was quite ashamed of the whole idea of a "liaison" and "bast.ardry" (how lame), thus she was born in semi-secrecy (secret from the British buddies of her mother's family) at the Sauvageon Estate in Enköping. Her paternal family has custody of her from birth, and she didn't see her mother or maternal family again for a decade (well, she was an infant, we can't actually be sure she ever did see her mother).

From the ages of 2-5, Svea was enrolled in Förskola, and when aged 6, she attended Förskoleklass, school for muggle children in Sweden (both are optional for Swedish kids, "Förskola" is preschool, available to children from ages 1-5, and "Förskoleklass" is preschool class, which I guess is effectively a year of kindergarten, for children aged 6). There she was integrated into muggle culture (or something like that, I can't remember the word I want) and made numerous friends, including one of her all time besties; Lara Coburg (the only one of her muggle friends to be introduced to the magical world, in a very Jacob Kowalski way now that I think of it, even though I hated him in the Fantastic Beasts movie). Lara is aware of the magical world and the only one of Svea's muggle friends who she maintains regular contact with.

After Förskoleklass, Svea attended 4 years of the muggle compulsory school in Sweden (which is for ages 7-16, and basically the north American equivalent of elementary through to high school), with the plan being that she would "transfer" to private, boarding school once she reached the age for magical schooling. However, when she was 10, her mother and maternal grandfather came to Sweden to claim custody and make her a British citizen, to meet the residential requirements to attend Hogwarts. The Sauvageon's initially refused, but as they loathe their local home school, Drumstrang (a very non-Swedish Scandinavian school, because Sweden is liberal af and Drumstrang is magic racist af), they agreed.

Svea spent a year living with her mother and maternal grandfather before being admitted into Hogwarts and did not like it in the least. They were horrified and appalled by the rambunctious, muggle-friendly, aggressively European child she was (and tbh, still is), and spent the year trying to force it out of her. They kept her isolated and cut off all her connections to her father's family, and tried to instruct her in the ways of pureblood, often screaming in frustration and anger when she argued back or simply replied with "so what" or "why". They later took to locking her in rooms, and starving her when she started leaving the estate on her own to mingle with the local muggle population. Eventually, their little war came to a head when they broke her electrical toys from her father's family, and in her fury, she magically set fire to the Prince Estate (on purpose, though they claimed it was an accident to the Improper Use of Magic Office). The fire resembled the Fiendfyre curse, and it was stronger than any fire Svea had produced before. Although no one died, the entire estate became ruins, and took 4 ministry workers plus her mother and grandfather to contain. After the incident, Svea was able to reconnect with her paternal family (crying to the ministry people there about missing her father and worried that her grandfather would say no because he's jealous of her other grandfather, yes she was faking her tears, anyway, they fell for it and informed her Swedish fam who immediately apparated to the Prince Estate). The Sauvageon's offered to pay for the restoration of the Prince Estate, but in exchange, Brigitta Sauvageon would be staying with them until Svea left for Hogwarts. Once that was settled, Svea and her maternal family became akin to strangers living in the same house, with Marcius Prince calling Svea and her aunt "unwelcome guests".

After she received her Hogwarts letter, instead of Diagon Alley, Svea's Aunt and Grandmother took her to Drottningsgränd, basically the Stockholm Diagon Alley (btw, I'm really proud of myself, because I googled Swedish street names and that effectively translates to "Queen's Alley" mostly because there's an actual street called "King's street", well, in Swedish it's "krongsgran" or something like that, tbh, I already forgot). Anyway, it resulted it quite a tiff with the Prince's, who insisted on Diagon Alley and wands from Ollivanders, they lost the argument on the later, but she did get her books, robes, and other school items from Diagon Alley. Also an adorable tawny owl they named "Fredrick".

Additional Information: - her name is poorly made pun, like, "pun" is actually pushing it. "Svea" comes from a personification of Sweden, a derivative of "Svear", the Swedish name for the ancient Germanic tribe; the Swedes. "Svear" also later evolved into "Sverige", the Swedish name for Sweden and means "the realm of the Svear". Her surname, "Sauvageon", is a French form of "Savage", an English word, nickname, and surname meaning wild and uncouth, which was derived from a Middle English form of Old French; "salvage" or "sauvage", which meant untamed. Effectively, her name means Savage Swede, the flip around being a ref to the annoying flip around in the French language with certain terms and/or phrases (also in other languages, but French is the one I got beef with as a Canadian person). Richelle and Estelle are just because I like frenchy names that rhyme, and they're vaguely posh sounding, so I'm assuming her mother picked those ones. I say, assume, I made these characters, she did pick them for Svea.

- uses a ridiculous array of glitter and nerd-design pens (ink and quills are aesthetically pleasing, but impractical. Come on, the pencil was invented in fcking 1564)

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⚜️ HOGWARTS INFORMATION

House: Slytherin

Year: 7

Best Class(s): Arithmancy and History of Magic (honestly, she's great at all of her classes, but those two are her highest scores, well, she get's an outstanding in everything, but they're in like 98-100 percentile, and the others are just 90-98, if Hogwarts used numbers)

Worst Class(s): none

Any Pets?: a tiger patterned kitten, super smol and super cute, but has been a "kitten" for a suspiciously long time. It's been tiny and like a baby since she first got it in her fourth year, though she simply claims that it's a rare Swedish breed. She named it Vhagar, after a dragon in ASOIAF because she's a massive nerd.

Reputation at Hogwarts: All in all, Svea's got a pretty stellar reputation. She certainly doesn't cause any trouble, she's heavily active in school events and protective of younger students. She's always been doing her own "foreigner" thing, in everything she does, she's aggressively Swedish about it (and that's something she says herself). She's basically the high-achieving "socialist" elitist, she definitely thinks she's better than you, but she's not going to tolerate something as stupid as "blood purity" in "her" school. Her reputation is basically that of the smart, sporty, pretty "cool" girl. Or I guess simply "The Swede". Seriously, she's super liberal, she loves Eurovision, what about that isn't Swedish? The fact that their faceclaim is English, but whatever. ▪️ Is your OC based on one of the character archetypes? If so, which one: Lily van der Woodsen/Bass/Humphrey (somewhat, she's a lot less selfish/self-centered than Lily)

▪️ If not, please write a 2-4 sentence tagline for your OC: GW: The liberal foreigner, the relentless Head Girl. Duchess S is our resident "mother of dragons", or so she claims. Sadly, not all of us can be Daenerys Stormborn. Sad for the Duchess at least. Whilst she may not be blood of the dragon, she is blood of the Franks. With extravagant tastes and a penchant for chopped off heads (metaphorically, of course), Duchess S may seem like a nice friend for you to have, but cross her, and you'll be eating cake. (Svea, off in the distance: MARIE ANTOINETTE NEVER ACTUALLY SAID THAT YOU UNCULUTURED SWINE!)

Additional Information: - Chaser on the Slytherin Quidditch Team, also team captain - Head Girl - She could've been a Ravenclaw, but her ambition heavily outweighs her thirst for knowledge

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⚜️ INDIVIDUAL MAGIC

Wand: acacia wood Wand Core: dragon heartstring Wand Length: 11 ¾" Wand Flexibility: inflexible, but swishy

Patronus: Swedish Short-Snout

Bogart: her mother

Amortentia: fresh coffee (though the taste disgusts her, hence she pumps caramel into her ice coffee), newly laundered clothes, and petrichor (the scent of wet earth after a recent rain fall)

Affinity to any particular magic?: she's quite skilled with wandless magic, and occlumency (taught by her grandmother), to protect her mind against any invaders. She's dabbled in some legilimency, but does not care for it.

Additional Information: - ridiculously in love with/knowledgeable about dragons. super obsessed with them. - I guess it would fall under affinity, but she's quite drawn to fire and fire-based spells, creatures, potions, etc. She'd never admit it to someone of authority (yet), but her favourite spell is fiendfyre. - obtained her appariting license earlier than would be possible (because her birthday makes her 17 after the usual UK test dates) by applying for it at the Swedish Ministry of magic, which issues Apparition licenses at 16 (completely made that up, but whatever, I don't like half of the few things we know about JKR's Sweden, they're not very Swedish. How is Drumstrang a Scandi school? Scandi's are so liberal, I get it's a German, WWII stereotype, but make it limited to German and Germanic states then, the Scandi's are liberal af. Well, Sweden is, also I think Finland).

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⚜️ USER INFORMATION

Username: @.drownedinmoonlight Activity Level (Scale 1-10): 8-ish

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⚜️ OPTIONAL

Playlist: https://goo.gl/vaSFwA {Svea} ⠀⠀⠀⠀& https://goo.gl/Wwgx4s {Svea x Henry} Moodboard: https://goo.gl/VBPzCG Social Media: https://goo.gl/uXqRa9 {insta} Storyboard: https://goo.gl/d1pTdj Aesthetic Collection I: https://goo.gl/qDJazT Aesthetic Collection II: [still in my drafts] Svea x Henry Aesthetics Collection: https://goo.gl/nVaubL Wardrobe/Style Collection: https://goo.gl/g8rBdV Plotting Set: Story: ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ஜ۩۞۩ஜ

When you have completed the audition, please tag the mods: @.drownedinmoonlight @.themadmonarchist and @.maybones and use the hashtag #gossipwitch, #GW

#audition #gw #mine #polyvore #template #Svea Sauvageon

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drtanstravels · 4 years

Text

I’m now entering my fifth year of keeping this blog and it has seen me in some strange and embarrassing predicaments. You can go back and read almost any post written about us being anywhere in the world and there is a pretty decent chance I’ve put my foot in it at some point. This one is about a day when those type of incidents seemed to occur one after another, it just happened to be the first day of the year and a new decade. I’m mainly writing this for my own benefit so I can hopefully one day in the future look back on 01/01/2020 and laugh.

Our view of New Year’s Eve at 7:30pm

We are hardly ever home for the entire holiday period so the past few weeks have consisted of seemingly endless parties, dinners, and functions with friends, family, and colleagues, as well as showing visiting family members around, and after a while it all gets a bit draining. I’m not a big fan of crowds or house parties, especially when I don’t know a whole lot of people, particularly in Singapore where most people only talk about their work. If you don’t have a mutual interest, it’s hard to interact with anyone and it’s borderline impossible for me to join a conversation on a topic I know nothing about. For New Year’s Eve, some of Anna’s friends and colleagues had booked a suite at the Fullerton Hotel in Boat Quay and we had a great night of just eating, drinking, and listening to bad music. Now we just had one more day of festivities to go and then it would all be over for another year.

Wednesday, January 1, 2020 Considering that we had arrived back home from our New Year’s Eve celebration at about 3:00am, we were in surprisingly good shape when we woke up. One of Anna’s best friends, Roshini Prakash, is from a quite well to do Indian family here in Singapore and they have a tradition where they always throw an enormous party at their house on New Year’s Day. Nobody really makes plans for New Year’s Day except to sit on the couch and watch TV all day so I thought it was odd, but apparently this party happens every year, I’m just never around for it or I have friends in town. Anna’s dad had also booked a restaurant for dinner at 5:00pm that afternoon before some of Anna’s visiting relatives leave town. We’ve tried multiple times to explain to him that nobody under the age of 85 eats dinner at 5:00pm, but that is the exact appeal to him — The restaurant is empty at that time. So, to end the festive season all I had to do was survive yet another party and an obscenely early family dinner and it would be all finished. It seemed simple enough.

I was finishing a cup of coffee while watching the basketball, but soon it was time to leave for Roshini’s party so I went to the bathroom to use the toilet and then have a shower. Not long after I had sat down to go about my business, our cleaner unexpectedly showed up. She usually cleans our house on a Wednesday, we just assumed she wouldn’t come on New Year’s Day, but I guess we were wrong. The first part of our cleaner’s routine is to go into our bathroom to get our washing basket, but this was probably the worst possible time for her to do so, so Anna started talking to her, stalling her long enough for me to finish up, flush, and then get in the shower so she could hear the water running, thus allowing her to know there was someone in there while also maintaining my dignity. Crisis averted.

Soon we were on our way to the party and I knew this was going to be a rather large event, as I had been to this house before and they have pet toucans! I’m not kidding, this is a portion of their backyard:

They used to have cranes as pets as well, but they got old and both died recently. Anyway, I had clearly underestimated the sheer magnitude of this party — The entire front yard had been professionally converted into a canvas pavilion for the day with fans installed in its roof. They had also hired chefs to set up tables and stalls making different dishes like in a hawker centre, as well as waiters and bar staff. On top of this there was an ice-cream cart and Roshini told us that they had even hired someone to professionally tie the saris for her, her three sisters, and their mother. There were well over 100 people in attendance, both inside the house and out, but as soon as I entered the gate I was immediately approached enthusiastically by a Singaporean-Chinese boy who couldn’t have been any older than 12 or 13 years old. “Wow, you’re really tall!” he said excitedly, staring me straight in the eyes. Now, I worked with kids long enough to know that that wasn’t particularly standard conduct for a boy of that age so I decided to humour him. “Yes, I am, some people here find it a little intimidating,” I said, but it was his reply that caught me off-guard. “They’re just people, I find it quite attractive!” he said, still staring at me without blinking. Being told you’re attractive at a party by a teenage boy is probably flattering when you’re a girl around the same age, but not so much when you’re a 40-year-old man so my initial assumption was correct, I was later informed that he had recently been diagnosed with Asperger syndrome, but it was pretty evident from the outset. Being a teenager with Asperger’s must be tough, but this kid was intense and was infatuated by me. I decided to grab some food from one of the many stalls set up out the front, particularly the squid curry, when I felt a tug on my Simpsons t-shirt. “I think The Simpsons really means ‘simpletons,'” he said with the same enthusiasm as earlier so I spoke with him for a while, but the constant intensity began to get a bit much. Anna and I found a seat in another part of the house to eat, me returning for more curried squid, before going upstairs to chat with Roshini and some other friends, as well as take a break from the boy downstairs. You know he’s getting a tad overbearing when I opt to sit in a room full of infants watching Paw Patrol at full volume. I’m just glad I hadn’t done my hair, instead wearing a cap as usual, otherwise all of the kids might’ve thought I was Ryder from the show, we do look kind of similar.

Pat, Anna, their friend Shyammi, and Roshini at another party a few nights prior

I was sitting on a sofa for a while in the kids room, managing to drift in and out of a light nap, but when I awoke and started talking to Anna, Roshini, and Pat I noticed something wasn’t right; her bindi, the traditional decoration that Indian women wear on their foreheads, was a little off-centre for Roshini and this caused a bit of a predicament for me — Would it be culturally insensitive to tell an Indian woman that her head adornment isn’t quite in the right spot? I mean, I do consider her a friend, but is it crossing a line to point it out to her, especially at an enormous party thrown by her family at their house to which I was an invitee, no less? This conundrum gnawed at me for a few minutes, but things like this, objects that aren’t straight or properly centred, really tend to bug me so I decided to tell her. Perhaps I could be on the autism spectrum alongside the boy downstairs. I was a little apprehensive at first when approaching the topic, but Roshini wasn’t getting any subtle hints so I just had to tell her outright. “Rosh, your thing on your head isn’t quite in the middle.” A look of shock washed over her face, leading me to believe I should’ve kept my mouth shut. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” she screamed. “It’s going to be like that in all of the photos!” I guess it is okay to tell them and Roshini kept peeling the bindi off and trying to get it centred, each time followed by a “How about now?” Every attempt, however, ultimately made it worse so in the end she asked me to peel it off and put it in the centre, a kind of strange request for the only white man in the room.

A bit after the sticker debacle was sorted I needed to go to the bathroom so I asked Rosh we’re it was and she pointed me in the direction of a woman’s bedroom that had an ensuite so I went in and locked the ensuite door. Almost immediately after the stream started, a man and a woman entered the room and were talking quite loudly. I figured they may have just come up to get something so I decided to play it cool and just wait for them to leave. However, that didn’t happen and I was beginning to worry that one of them may try to enter, but if I were to leave at this point they might think I was taking a shit in their room, much like the situation with the cleaner that morning at home. I finally decided the best course of action was to open the door, but not exit, just in case I walked in on something I’m not supposed to see. When I opened the door I saw the drape part of a sari fly up in the air, followed by a startled Indian woman frantically shrieking at the top of her voice, “Who is it, who is it, who is it, who is it?!?” I sheepishly replied, “It’s Tim” and was told that I could exit via the second door in the bathroom leading directly to the hallway, one that I didn’t think could be used due to the fact that there was a washing basket and other things in front of it. I snuck out that side entrance of the bathroom and discreetly took my original seat again.

After the second bathroom related incident for the day it was almost time to leave for our afternoon dinner on the other side of the country with Anna’s family so we went back down to say our goodbyes. I sat in an armchair before leaving and was approached by Roshini’s rather loud sister, Pavi, who was still laughing hysterically and felt the need to inform all remaining guests of how I almost walked in on her getting changed out of her sari from her own personal bathroom. She obviously felt a bit bad for me due to how innocently awkward the whole situation was and I guess we had just bonded for life at that moment over a situation of mutual fear and embarrassment. She gave me a hug goodbye and we were off. We went to dinner with the family, but Anna and I weren’t hungry due to the fact that we had barely finished lunch. Dinner went without a hitch, excluding when Anna’s father walked out of a bathroom while looking in the opposite direction and bumped into a waitress, knocking a dish she was serving to another table out of her hands. It had been a strange beginning to the year and it was barely even dark when we arrived home so what better way to finish off a bizarre day than watching Don’t F**K with Cats, a documentary series about a guy who used to make videos of himself killing kittens online, and then moving on to far worse acts. To top off the night I started getting a stomachache and bloated up, constantly feeling the need to go to the toilet, but nothing happening. I guess it was a result of too much of the squid curry, but it also signalled an end to the perpetual celebrations that had plagued the past three weeks.

So I started a new decade with a day that included:

Me almost getting walked in on by our cleaner while I was taking a dump

Getting told at a party by a teenage boy that I was “attractive”

Having an internal conflict over whether I should tell an Indian woman at her family’s party that her bindi wasn’t quite in the right spot

Almost walking in on her sister getting dressed after being told to use the toilet in her bedroom

Giving myself a stomachache by eating too much curry.

Not the best beginning, but it was great wrapping up 2019 with meeting up with Emily and Jamie, their kids, Marcus and Maya, and hanging out with Robin and Kat again. Next time you hear from me will be in mid-January when we return from a cruise from Sydney to New Caledonia to celebrate the 40th birthday of my oldest friend, the best man at our wedding, and I at his, Shane Worthington.

Hanging out with Wortho on what I think was my ninth birthday

If the first day is anything to go by, the '20s can only go up from here I'm now entering my fifth year of keeping this blog and it has seen me in some strange and embarrassing predicaments.

#2020 #food #Indian #January #New Year&039;s Day #party

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