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slytherin-paramour · 9 months

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Whew! Boy, this was meant to be a lot shorter than it is! This is a sad tale revolving around the Richard Jackdaw storyline, if it diverges from the actual story at all I don't care! 🤣🙏

(Thank you to @cuffmeinblack for the imagery of #aliveRichard lol)

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So I've started outlining a story in which you are Richard's best friend.

You grew up together, and now you are secretly in love with him.

You do everything with him, go exploring with him, keep his secrets, lie for him etc.

He constantly batters your ear with talk of Apollonia and how much he wants to court her and even though it's like a dagger to the heart you listen on with a smile and encouragement but secretly cry with despair when you are alone.

Apollonia knows how you feel and uses every opportunity to make you feel worse, flirting with Richard and stringing him along.

Eventually, Richard gets tired of chasing Apollonias unrequited love and focuses on adventuring with you again, and your heart starts to feel better.

You help him to store away random items and artifacts that he discovers, in a little enchanted cavern down by the lake. (He informs you that he'd stolen a few of these items in an attempt to impress Apollonia, which you frown upon and roll your eyes.

You spend a lot of time there in the lake cavern with him, chatting about anything and everything, playing wizards chess and trying to decipher old tomes.

One night, Slytherin are celebrating a quidditch victory over Gryffindor in The Three Broomsticks. Student's from all house's are gathered there, having a good time and drinking.

Richard and you are there, and this is the night when he finally gets acquainted with a pretty Hufflepuff named Anne Thisbe. Anne becomes besotted with him, and he is ecstatic at the attention. You'd seen her about the castle but not spoken to her-a year below you, you think. Your heart lurches as he chats animatedly with this girl. And so begins a tragic tale.

Richard starts to spend a lot of time with Anne, to your dismay. Because of this, you instinctively draw into yourself and away from him, throwing yourself into your studies.

You are surprised one day when he seeks you out-alone. He's noticed your lack of presence and questions you about it, to which you conjure up a lie of some sort to placate him. He sees the tired look on your face, dark rings under your eyes and is worried for you. You wave him off and swallow thickly, asking him about Anne. It's then that he mentions something about some ripped out book pages that he'd stolen from Peeves the Poltergeist, that included some sort of a map that he intended to follow in the next few weeks.

He shows you the pages, covered with cryptic imagery and symbols that aren't like anything you've seen before, and you can't help the bad feeling that runs through you as you brush your fingertips over the parchment.

You consider telling him about the bad feeling, but looking up at his excited face as he stares at the pages from over your shoulder, you lose the will to ruin his joy.

You think, and hope for a moment that he's going to ask you to go with him, as usual, but your heart drops in your chest when he starts to talk about leaving fun little riddles for Anne to solve, that he couldn't wait for her to join him on this exploration.

He falters as he witnesses your crestfallen face, mistaking your heartache for exhaustion as he brushes his thumb over your cheek gently. The touch sends sparks through you and you look into his beautiful brown eyes as he speaks.

"You don't look so well. You should try and get some rest."

There's an annual ball coming up in the next couple of weeks, and it's all the Hogwarts students can talk about. You don't think you'll go. Don't want to see Richard dancing with Anne. Whom you know that he invited. But then you are surpised by an unexpected invite by a boy in your year named Tobias Ashworth, a Gryffindor. He's handsome, you note, but a bit quiet. Likes to keep himself to himself, usually. Then he tells you that he's noticed you around the castle, in your quiet moments alone when you're in the library or tending your plant's in the greenhouse. He thinks that you seem like a nice person and would love to take you to the ball, get to know you better.

You think of declining, but then you think of Richard, and of Anne, and so you smile at Tobias and accept his offer.

The night of the ball is in full swing. Tobias is off getting you drinks. He looks very handsome in his tailored dress robes. You are wearing a fine gown of green silk and lace, long pearlescent gloves up to your elbows. You stand in a corner, watching. Looking out for Anne and Richard. You see them dancing at the far end of the Great Hall. You also see the seething glares of Apollonia Black as she watches the same couple, blatant jealousy shining through even though she had a good looking boy on her arm tonight. You roll your eyes, the action becoming a habit of yours.

Tobias returns with your drinks. You try and forget about Richard and focus on your date, accepting with a small curtesy when he asks you to join him on the dancefloor.

You don't notice the disapproving looks sent your way by your best friend, who although dancing with Anne, has noticed your presence and is quite disconcerted about the fact that you're dancing with a random boy that he's never met before. He also thinks that he's never seen you look this lovely before, noting the curves of your body in the pretty dress that you're wearing. He doesn't enjoy the fact that your dance partner is holding said curves and frowns, returning his focus to Anne when she notes his distraction.

Tobias presses his lips against the back of your gloved hand just outside the Slytherin common room, thanking you for a perfect evening and bidding you goodnight. You watch his figure dissappear up the stone steps behind you, a smile on your face. Turning to enter through the enchanted snake archway, you are shocked when a voice whispers into your ear.

"He seems...nice."

From nowhere, Richard appears, dropping his disillusionment charm and looking down at your scared form with a smirk on his face. You frown and reprimand him for sneaking up on you, before putting two and two together and realising that he must have been following you. You ask him as such to which he scoffs and looks away.

He informs you that he wasn't being creepy. He just wanted to make sure that Tobias' intentions with you were above board. He thinks that the other boy is a terrible match for you and that you deserve better.

You look at him incredulously, not sure how to respond to him, but silently seethe. How dare he? How dare he presume to have any say over who you decide to date? Who would be good for you? Tears fill your eye's and you turn to storm away from him, afraid you'll say something you'll regret. That is until you feel a hand wrap around your gloved wrist to yank you back. Your head snaps back toward him angrily, tears now flowing down your face. You tell him to go back to Anne. To leave you alone.

Richard is confused. Confused because he doesn't quite understand what he's feeling tonight. He thinks of Apollonia, the vile temptress. And then he thinks of lovely Anne, with whom he said goodnight to earlier before giving in to the jealous streak that made him follow you tonight. And then he thinks of you. That wonderful constant in his life. There through the best and worst of his times. He remembers the way that you danced with that other boy tonight, and the way the sight of it sent sharp tentrils of pain through his chest. Confusing.

He sees you now, tears streaming over flushed cheeks, angry azure eyes barely focusing on him, and he thinks that you are possibly one of the most beautiful, strong and smart girls that he's ever laid eyes upon. How hadn't he noticed that before?

Coarse fingertips gently brush stray hair from your temple, another hand cradling your chin as though your face were made of china. Chocolate irises gazed into your angry ones with intent. Your lungs struggle to take in a breath of air. When had he gotten so close? And then his lips, divine and soft, were brushing softly against yours, slowly and unsure. You barely had a chance to register before he was pulling away, forehead resting against yours as you both took deep breaths.

"I'm sorry."

He spoke the words and then shot away, down into the Slytherin common room and out of sight. You stood alone, trying to process what had happened, your fingers trailing over your lips as another stray tear fell to join the salty streaks on your face. You briefly wonder whether you are destined for heartache.

You don't speak to Richard for the next two weeks, only seeing him in classes and rare glimpses throughout the castle. You don't even see him in the common room. The distance makes you feel physically sick, the memory of his soft touch constantly replaying in your mind. You miss him terribly.

The few times that you do see him, Anne is predictably by his side, smiling her perfect smile as he laughs at something she'd said to him. Another blow to your tormented soul.

Tobias says hello now and then, if your paths cross in the hallways. Though you get the feeling that he too, is keeping his distance. You wonder if Richard has said anything to the poor boy. Likely.

You begin to regret not having a wider friend group. Days that were usually spent in Richard's company now reduced to a pathetic loneliness in his absence. You feel increasingly more hollow as the days pass by.

It's late one evening when you awaken in your dormitory bed, the girls that you share your room with are sound asleep. You wipe the sweat from your brow. Another nightmare. About Richard, and those damned pages of his. You can't quite recall the dream, but it was bad enough for you to wake up in a cold sweat. You wrap your night robe around yourself and walk as silently as possible out of your dorm and into the Slytherin common room.

Curled up on one of the plush, elegant sofas in front of the fireplace, you stare into the flames. You are unable to shake away the awful feelings that stemmed from your dream. This, along with your injured heart, causes twin tears to trail down over your face. You wipe them away, frustrated. Another tear. Then another. The deluge refuses to stop. You press your face into you knees which are tucked up against your body and sob. Your body shakes visibly from the force of your anguish.

An arm wraps around you. The sofa shifting as a body presses up beside you. Your face snaps to the left, shocked, embarrassed to be caught in such a state.

Richard's face is laden with guilt. He pulls you further in to him, burying his face into your hair and mumbling something that sounded like 'sorry' in a regretful tone.

You should be angry. You should be storming away from him and not looking back. You quickly realise that you could never do that, though. Not with him. Instead you press your sodden face into his neck, your arms winding around his broad form and you let him hold you, comfort you as you finally release your frustration.

After calming down somewhat, you ask him why he kissed you that night, to which he replied honestly. He has feelings for you, and is confused. He has feeling's for Anne as well, but his feelings for you had bombarded him out of nowhere. Smacking him like a bludger to the head.

After about an hour of reconciliation, apologies and emotionally charged conversation, you're feeling exhausted. Your feelings are still very much all over the place. Truths had been spoken but made thing's even more confusing than before.

Richard runs a hand through his soft brown curls and yawns. He informs you that he's planning on following his mystery map the next evening, with Anne hopefully joining him should she figure out the puzzles he'd left for her. He gives you a longing look before sheepishly asking if you'd like to join him.

You shake your head quickly, that feeling of dread curling down your arms and into the tips of your fingers. You grip onto Richard's shirt sleeves tightly, looking up at him with fearful, desperate eyes. You beg him not to go. To forget about the pages and the silly map. You even offer to go treasure hunting elsewhere with him, so long as he promised that he'd abandon this quest of his. He chuckles and pulls you closer to him so that your head is resting on his chest. He card's his fingers through your hair, a soothing motion that makes your eyes droop. You reach out to grip his hand, already half asleep, and press your lips against his knuckles.

"...Promise me...promise that you'll stay...I need you..."

His heart clenches as he watches your eyes finally flutter shut, his hand still clasped in yours. Leaning down, he presses his lips against your forehead, wordlessly asking you to forgive him.

You wake late into the day to the sounds of students bustling around the common room. You were exactly where you fell asleep in the early hours, the only difference being the lack of Richard by your side.

Your chest still tightened when you thought of him, and of Anne and your situation. You push the thought's to the back of your mind and head to the showers to clean up.

The day passes by uneventfully. You throw yourself back into your studies, feeling at least a tad lighter now that your emotions were laid bare and Richard was speaking to you again. You don't see him all day, which doesn't surprise you anymore. You hope you'll see him later in the common room.

Night falls. He still neglects to make an appearance. You think suddenly of the map and the book pages. That's where he was, you thought. He was off adventuring with Anne in the moonlight. You'd asked him not to go, but he'd gone anyway.

You close your eyes and stare out into the murky depths of the black lake. The tall glass windows shimmered with the motion of the water. The quiver of foreboding is present once more.

After a night and morning of practically no sleep, you are sitting alone at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall. You pick at your food, chewing away at the tiny pieces. Your mind was on Richard, and how he had fared with Anne on their outing. Something wasn't sitting right with you though. A quick enquiry earlier had informed you that he hadn't returned to his dorm that night. Your instant thought was that he'd most likely slept in the lakeside cavern instead of disturbing his dorm mates. He'd probably taken Anne there too. You soured at the thought.

This hypothesis was thrown to the wind when none other than Anne herself approached your table, quietly asking you for a word.

She wants to know if you've seen Richard this morning. She informs you that she did not, in fact, accompany him on his venture last night. She found his letter and his puzzle, but being unable to solve it, decided not to go to him. Anne looks sheepishly at the floor. You begin to panic. You try to remember the landmarks on the map, but come up blank. You take off from the Great Hall, leaving Anne standing there dumbfounded.

It's hard to breath. The dread. The nightmares. They were trying to warn you of something, you just knew it. As soon as you were outside, you pulled out your retractable broomstick and extended it, hopping on and flying as fast as you could towards the one place you could remember from the map-the Forbidden Forest. You'd search the entire damned place if you had to, praying to Merlin that you would find your best friend.

Weeks had passed and you'd run out of tears to cry. Your searching had proved fruitless. The pain inside you was incomparable to anything that you'd ever felt before. You missed him. Missed his voice, missed his touch, missed his friendship. The school was aware of his disappearance, and Aurors were sent to investigate but even they came up short. It was as if he'd simply vanished.

You knew in your heart that something awful had happened to him though. And you were numb. If he were ok, he'd have come back to you by now.

You dreamt of him frequently, his fingers on you skin, a look of pure, unconditional affection shining in his eyes. And then you'd wake up, drenched in sweat with your face sticky from your tears.

It was one such night, lying in your bed, that you'd woken yourself up with your whimpers and snot ridden nose. Your hair stuck to your wet cheeks and you sobbed into your arm that draped over your eyes. You lay there in your grief, briefly considering casting muffliato, when an echoey yet familiar voice broke through the darkness of the room.

There, at the foot of your bed, stood none other than Richard Jackdaw. Or rather, floated Richard Jackdaw. Your hand shot up to clasp around your mouth, unable to handle the absolute agony of witnessing your best friend, your lost love...hovering before you as a ghost. A fresh flood of tears waterfalled from your eyes and you groaned into your palm.

Richard looked at you with despair, his ethereal form moving closer to you, as if to comfort you. He brought his wispy hand up to your face, but sadness befell him when his fingertips passed through you. You try to ask him what happened, through shaking breaths, but he can't remember how he died. He apologised for not listening to you and for being a terrible friend, to which you denied with a sob.

He begins to move away from your bed, at which you panic and whisper for him not to go, not to leave you again. He turns to look at you with a sad smile, his once vivid eyes now black and lifeless.

"I was in love with you, you know."

And then, he was gone, and you wouldn't see him again for a long, long time.

That night, you cast the silencing charm around you and screamed and cried until your voice was hoarse and you had nothing left to give. You cursed that map, and you cursed yourself for not being able to save him.

Fin.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fandom #harry potter #slytherin pride #hogwarts legacy oc #Richard Jackdaw #hogwarts legacy mc #Anne Thisbe #Apollonia Black

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swallowtailed · 6 months

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palisade 31

the interesting thing about listening to a season as it releases is that, by presumably deliberate omission, arc pacing is functionally a black box--there's no way to tell when an arc will end until it's done. to the extent that, like, seeing a slightly shorter episode runtime makes me want to guess that a plot beat has occurred unexpectedly early or late. pacing!

i'm not sure i agree with that ruling re boxcars on number of the beast, but it does lower the probability of cashing out. (although. you know. lol.) i still haven't quite convinced myself what the probability of hitting 666 on any given 3d6 actually is, but with that ruling i'm thinking it's about 1.5% all told, which has a 60% chance of occurring in 60 rolls.

"the shield is attached to the cannon" feels like a very figure thing

was having my usual think about brnine's relationships with their divines and reached a conclusion which i will summarize as: hey brnine are you adopting divine dogs because you miss a wolf prophet

that also led me back to thinking about autonomy again--i think autonomy could justify using asepsis.

want to congratulate keith on felling a pillar immediately and singlehandedly. incredible. 10/10.

the gamesmanship between eclectic and connadine was also so fun. they should start a gravity clock

thinking about the spy novel set at the paint shop where they discover their co has just sold them all out. i'm a little sad we didn't get an infiltration of the paint shop/steeple catterick--coolass setting.

thisbe wanting things so strongly that she accidentally summons illusions of them... love her. it's a fantastic next beat in her arc--she's built so much around communication and interpretation, and now she's influencing other people's interpretations of the world. (would love to see her meet another iconoclast now.)

nideo drawing on medieval/classical/fantastic influences is always so fun. there might be an argument to be made that in the palisade era, each stel has entered a different sff subgenre, but honestly the main reason i'd be making that argument would be to say that i think apostolos is paranormal ya.

#fatt #palisade #palisade spoilers #hello world #fatt lb #have been trying to phrase a 'fell a pillar' joke re eclectic and connadine since last week and i still can't figure it out #suggestions welcome

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beeelderly · 3 months

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thisbe huffing a fat dart with her arms crossed. hips as wide as she is tall with horns to match. I ROLL W/ THISBE

#this is my forum signature

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duncandriver · 5 months

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A Hard Day’s Midsummer Night’s Dream: The Beatles Play Shakespeare

In February 1964 the Beatles and their small coterie were in New York, having ‘invaded’ via John F. Kennedy International Airport (newly-renamed in the wake of the President’s November 1963 death). 5000 screaming fans greeted them as they alighted Pan-Am flight 101, and pandemonium followed them to the Plaza Hotel, reaching fever pitch as they performed live on The Ed Sullivan Show two days later.

Despite the hurricane quality of their first visit to the United States, their manager Brian Epstein took the time to meet with Jack Good, a British television producer for Rediffusion London (which had also just changed its name). It was fortunate for Good to have been squeezed into Epstein’s tight schedule. Indeed, Epstein may have given him the time of day on the basis that he, too, was a trail-blazing impresario of British rock ‘n’ roll acts: Tommy Steele and Billy Fury owed part of their success to Good’s management. Epstein was impressed enough that he agreed to a Beatle-themed television special, suggesting that Good himself produce the show (a point that he would later press during negotiations with Rediffusion). Another deal-breaker for Epstein was that the special must serve as an introduction and endorsement of other NEMS (Epstein’s company) acts. With one eye on American distribution of the special, Epstein also requested that Murray ‘The K’ Kaufman act as compare. 'K' was a prominent New York disc jockey and one of the lucky few ushered into The Beatles’ inner circle on this transatlantic visit.

Rediffusion agreed to all of Epstein’s terms (including NEMS ownership of world distribution rights) and provisionally entitled the special John, Paul, George and Ringo. Last-minute name changes must have been part of the 1964 zeitgeist, however. In addition to the re-christened JFK International Airport and the self-styled Rediffusion London, Good re-named his Beatles show Around The Beatles, a title that was likely inspired by the semi-circular design of the set built for it.

The special was rehearsed on April 18, 25 and 27 before taping on Thursday 28 April. The Beatles did not perform any songs until the second half of the hour-long show, though their (mimed) set was notable for featuring the only televised medley of Lennon-McCartney compositions the band ever ‘stuck together’ (to borrow Paul McCartney’s phrase when introducing the sequence). ‘Love Me Do’, ‘Please Please Me’, ‘From Me To You’, ‘She Loves You’, ‘I Want To Hold Your Hand’ and ‘Can’t Buy Me Love’ are the songs in question.

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The majority of the show’s first half was given over to a ‘variety-hour’ assortment of supporting acts, including Millie, Long John Baldry, Cilla Black, P. J. Proby, Sounds Incorporated and The Jets (an American dance troupe). Many of their performances look and sound quite dated now, especially when set against the timeless vitality of The Beatles. Indeed, one song in which Sounds Incorporated execute a neat series of dance steps recalls the unified choreography of The Shadows, an act which had bemused The Beatles prior to their success.

One of the sequences that sets the show apart from television specials of the era is the unique means by which Good chose to introduce The Beatles to their audience. Rather than start things off with a big musical number (as might have been expected), he capitalised on the band's humour and charm by having them perform a liberally-edited version of Act 5, Scene 1 from Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream, the celebrated play-within-the-play in which Quince, Snout, Bottom, Flute, Snug and Starveling (the ‘rude mechanicals’) perform a hilariously inept version of Pyramus and Thisbe’s tragic love story, all the time struggling valiantly against the mocking interjections of the play’s ‘noble’ characters (Demetrius, Hermia, Lysander, Helena, Theseus, Hippolyta and Egeus). It is not clear how and why Good seized upon this idea, but it too may have been in response to the semi-circular design of the set on which the band played, echoing as it does the tiered three-quarter circle of Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre. It may also have had something to do with the fact that the Beatles rehearsed the show on April 18 and 25, either side of the anniversary of Shakespeare’s birth and death (April 23), an auspicious date that Ringo Starr noted when interviewed by Murray ‘the K’ on set.[1]

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Whatever the reason for the special's unusually theatrical opening, its effect is inspired, playing wonderfully to the anarchic comic strengths of the Beatles’ collective identity. Clips of the scene are prevalent on the internet (including one surprisingly effective colourisation), but they are often misrepresented as a ‘parody’ of Shakespeare in comments and captions. It is true that the Beatles play fast and loose with the script, interjecting their own one-liners throughout, but the spirit of their performance is remarkably consistent with the intended tone of the scene which, it should be remembered, is already a parody. In this case, Shakespeare mocks the representation of tragic love in Elizabethan verse plays such as his own Romeo and Juliet, which was written either immediately before or after A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

The ‘Pyramus and Thisbe’ playlet is intended to be chaotic and inept, performed as it is by a group of enthusiastic but unsophisticated artisans who find themselves thrust into a world of power and privilege they do not fully understand. When considered this way, the scene and its characters are apposite to the position The Beatles found themselves in at this point in their career: suddenly and unprecedentedly successful working-class lads from an industrial backwater taking some of the starch out of the stiff cosmopolitan shirts they encountered in London and New York. The kind of ‘hooray Henry’ infamous for snipping locks of Beatle hair might have applied Puck’s description of the mechanicals to The Beatles as they descended upon his little patch of the world: ‘What hempen homespuns have we swagg’ring here…? (3.1.65)’. The Beatles' swagger is more knowing and cheeky than the rustic gait of Shakespeare’s rude mechanicals, but its effect is very similar: if Bottom or Quince were transposed to the 1963 Royal Variety Performance, they too might have requested that the poorer audience members clap their hands while the rest rattled their jewellery.

Indeed, the effect of the Beatles on the stifled culture of Great Britain in the early 1960s might be considered analogous to the effect that ‘Pyramus and Thisbe’ has on the Athenian nobility who are confronted by it in A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Writing of the intended effect of the play-within-the-play, Marjorie Garber argues that '… performed by social inferiors for their putative betters, it confronts the themes, aspirations, and pretensions of the aristocrats and comments on the larger play that contains it.'[2] Over the course of the scenes in which the mechanicals rehearse and then deliver their performance, Quince (their self-appointed manager) tries and fails to maintain control over an increasingly chaotic band of would-be entertainers who add and subtract from his script, question his decisions and ignore what they are supposed to be doing when something more interesting turns their heads. Perhaps Good had seen footage from A Hard Day’s Night (completed but not yet released at the time Around The Beatles was taped) and perhaps he was struck, like the author of this article, by the parallels between the mechanicals and the semi-fictionalised Beatles of the silver screen, both of whom effortlessly frustrate each authority figure they encounter.

The chaos of the rude mechanicals’ Pyramus and Thisbe is echoed in the performance the Beatles give of it, which seems always to be on the verge of collapse. The ‘heckling’ interruptions of some audience members add to this effect and may seem to be a strange addition of Good’s, but they are also in keeping with their source material. They are a substitute for the on-stage audience of principal characters constantly interjecting their criticism of the mechanicals’ performance in Shakespeare’s play. Hippolyta, for instance, exclaims ‘This is the silliest stuff that ever I heard!’ [5.1.207]. The tone and effect of the heckling The Beatles contend with is strikingly similar to that present in Shakespeare’s play. Stephen Greenblatt says of the mocking audience in A Midsummer Night’s Dream that ‘we are incited at once to join in the mockery … and to distance ourselves from the mockers’[3], something you feel in Around The Beatles when one wag shouts ‘Go back to Liverpool!’ We recognise that the band are uncomfortable in the world of Elizabethan theatre, but we are on their side when a contingent of London audience sets against them.

There are other parallels between The Beatles’ story and A Midsummer Night’s Dream that are worth pointing out. At the time he wrote the play, Shakespeare was either working towards or away from the comedy of magic in moonlight, something which appears in earnest throughout Romeo and Juliet but which is also present in the nocturnal sorcery the fairies work in A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Marjorie Garber writes that the play emphasises ‘the difference between night, which transforms and changes, and day, which is rigid, inflexible, and associated with law.’[4] The stark contrast between what could be said and done after the sun went down and what repercussions might be made in the cold light of day was certainly one that the four Beatles understood. The nightlife of Hamburg’s Reeperbahn, for instance, was the crucible in which their alchemy was formed: its coloured lights, licentious habits and mind-altering substances are a modern analogue to Oberon and Titania’s shady garden of delights. The effect of moonlight on The Beatles’ creativity took root early and continued to grow throughout their career. As soon as they were given the keys to the kingdom of EMI Studios, for example, their preferred recording hours began late in the day and ended as the sun came up. Indeed, one of the few ‘covers’ they would record in 1964 was Roy Lee Johnson’s ‘Mr Moonlight’, the opening address of which is scream-sung by John Lennon as if he were a wolf howling at the song’s titular subject. The first verse of the song continues:

You came to me one summer night And from your beam you made my dream And from the world you sent my girl And from above you sent us love

This is comparable to the lines spoken to the moon by Bottom’s Pyramus in A Midsummer Night’s Dream. In Around The Beatles, it is Paul, dressed as Pyramus, who delivers the first of these lines, the following three of which were cut from the 1964 performance:

Sweet moon, I thank thee for thy sunny beams. I thank thee, moon, for shining now so bright; For by thy gracious, golden, glittering gleams I trust to take of truest Thisbe sight (5.1.261-264).

One of the best jokes staged in ‘Pyramus and Thisbe’ is the absurd personification of ‘moonshine’ (complete with a lantern, thorn bush and dog) reluctantly played by the serious-minded Starveling, whose name means ‘undernourished’. In The Beatles’ performance , the character is well-represented by George Harrison, the most gauntly thin Beatle and often considered to have been the sourest (his first song was called ‘Don’t Bother Me’). Shakespeare’s character and George’s public persona are in perfect harmony when, frustrated by the heckling interruptions of the show’s audience, he says:

Look, you! All I have to say is to tell ye that this lantern is the moon, ye see. Got it? I’m the man in the moon, this thorn bush ‘ere’s my thorn bush and this doggy-woggy ‘ere is my dog! [sic][5]

The same rehearsal tape made by Murry ‘The K’ in which Ringo alerts the DJ to the date of Shakespeare’s birthday also includes a moment suggesting that Good knew exactly what he was doing when he cast George as Moonshine. The Beatle can be heard delivering the lines above before Good interrupts him with this note: ‘George, you mustn’t smile at all, you mustn’t sort-of realise it’s a joke’[6]. Clearly, Good knew that Starveling was meant to be a grumpy, frustrated character and that he is funniest when played ‘straight’.

Next to Puck (the mischievous sprite) the best-remembered character from A Midsummer Night’s Dream is probably Bottom (the weaver), the most enthusiastic of the rude mechanicals. He doesn’t appear in the Beatles’ version of Act 5, Scene 1 in any proper sense: it’s true that Bottom plays ‘Pyramus’ in the play-within-the-play, but Paul appears to be playing Pyramus fairly straight too: as a young lover, rather than as Bottom-playing-Pyramus (which wouldn’t make a great deal of sense outside of the play’s larger context). Despite this, Bottom is a character appropriate to Paul. For one thing, he shares Paul’s natural charm and enthusiasm. He also has something of Paul’s desire for control and thirst for the spotlight, wanting to play both Pyramus and Thisbe himself: ‘An I may hide my face, let me play Thisbe too. I’ll speak in a monstrous little voice: “Thisne, Thisne!”’ (1.2.43-44). Bottom's eager versatility is comparable to Paul’s facility with a range of musical instruments that sometimes led him to encroach into his bandmates’ territory. Ringo, at least, would complain of Paul’s tendency to mess with his drums.

In some respects, it is actually Ringo himself who is reminiscent of Bottom: both are the most loveable member of their respective band of entertainers. Bottom is always greeted by his companions with unfeigned joy, and his presence has the effect of defusing tension, just as the three other Beatles would still rally around Ringo when otherwise at odds with each other. Like Bottom, Ringo doesn’t always appear to understand everything that’s happening to him - think of that moment in the Maysles brothers’ What’s Happening! The Beatles in the USA at which Ringo exclaims ‘It’s great to be here in New York! Oh, Washington, is it? Just moving so fast…’[7] Most characteristically, Bottom and Ringo both have an endearing tendency to speak in malapropisms as profound as they are naïve. ‘A hard day’s night’ is a phrase that could easily have issued from Bottom’s lips after hours of weaving work, just as Bottom’s reference to his dream as ‘Bottom’s Dream, because it hath no bottom’ matches the homespun profundity of ‘Tomorrow never knows’.

A more general point of connection between Shakespeare’s play and The Beatles concerns the fact that A Midsummer Night’s Dream had frequently been considered the most suitable of Shakespeare’s plays for children, stuffed as it is with fairies, slapstick and strong rhymes. In 1964, at least, an atmosphere of Victorian-era wholesomeness and whimsy attended it, as though it were a precursor to Peter Pan. Such an unthreatening, ‘family’ appeal suited the neatly-pressed image for The Beatles that Brian Epstein had crafted over 1963. By the time Around The Beatles was taped, The Rolling Stones had entered the British popular consciousness as a more dangerous and pouty alternative to the smiling, chirpy Beatles, reinforcing the latter’s wider appeal.

This, at least, is how the media were encouraged to see things, though the truth was more complex. The Beatles’ genesis on Hamburg’s Reeperbahn belies the squeaky-clean aspect they had cultivated, just as John’s on-stage presence tended to cut through the professional sheen that Paul lent to proceedings. It was in 1964 performances, for instance, that John would often change the lyrics to songs (secure in the knowledge that they couldn’t be heard over the audience’s screams), the coy overture ‘I wanna hold your hand’ sometimes being replaced by the more confronting and sexually aggressive ‘I wanna hold your head’.

Just as there was a suggestive (perhaps even predatory) side to The Beatles if you knew where to look, so too are there more dangerously adult aspects to the desire that seethes beneath the surface of A Midsummer Night’ Dream. Emma Smith writes of the way ‘our schoolroom version’ of the play has polished away its rougher edges (or, if you like, replaced its leather jackets with a shiny, collarless suits):

…the ‘dream’ of the title is more Dr Freud that Dr Seuss, and the vanilla framing device of marriage creates an erotic space for a much raunchier and riskier set of options, from bestiality to pederasty, from wife-swapping to sexual sadomasochism. This really isn’t a play for children…[8]

If you know your Beatles’ history well enough, you might be reminded of how the band’s giggly, innocent appearance often concealed private bacchanalian affairs. In both Shakespeare’s play and The Beatles’ story, subversive elements occasionally bob up to the surface, however hard some try to submerge them.

It would appear that the connection made between The Beatles and Shakespeare at the outset of Around The Beatles struck a chord with the British public, including with the band themselves. In 1965, Peter Sellers would make an appearance on The Music of Lennon and McCartney (another Beatle-themed television special) in order to recite the lyrics to ‘A Hard Day’s Night’ in the style of Laurence Olivier’s Richard III. At the time, Olivier’s film versions represented the high-water mark of Shakespearean performance in the British collective consciousness, something which is also evident in Around The Beatles: the special begins with a trumpet fanfare and flag raising ceremony which is almost identical to that at the outset of Olivier’s own film of Henry V. Sellers’ performance of ‘A Hard Day’s Night’ is tonally comparable to The Beatles’ own attempt at ‘Pyramus and Thisbe’, too, both celebrating and gently mocking its source material.

youtube

Paul may have recalled the Shakespearean dialogue he was required to recite in Around The Beatles a few years later, when choosing the name ‘Thisbe’ for a pet cat. He was certainly aiming for the grandeur of Shakespearean verse when composing ‘The End’ for Abbey Road. Hunter Davis notes in The Beatles’ Lyrics that the song’s final couplet is ‘almost Shakespearean’[9] in effect. He attributes this to the lines’ familiarity, but it is worth pointing out that Paul's lyrics achieve a Shakespearean effect partly because they are metrically identical to the verse form of Shakespeare’s epilogues: both employ an iambic tetrameter that is less expansive and more formal than their authors' common rhythms, which in Shakespeare's case is the 'blank verse' of iambic pentamer. Changing the meter for an epilogue allowed Shakespeare to place the tidy symmetry of his play's resolution within a pleasing metrical frame, just as the final words of ‘The End’ draw the threads of Abbey Road's song suite together and tie them in a satisfying bow that also contains a parting message of hope and comfort. When set next to each other, the similarities between Paul's and Shakespeare's lines are evident, and they serve as a better end to this article than its author can devise for himself:

Give me your hands if we be friends And Robin shall restore amends. And in the end the love you take Is equal to the love you make.

[1] The Beatles. ‘Around the Beatles Rehearsal Tape’. URL: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FF7845r9WIo. Accessed 11.05.2020.

[2] Marjorie Garber. Shakespeare After All (2004). New York: Anchor Books, p.233.

[3] Stephen Greenblatt (Ed.). The Norton Shakespeare (1997). New York: W.W. Norton and Company, p. 807.

[4] Garber (2004), p. 213.

[5] The Beatles. ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream Excerpt’. URL: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Owin8pcoyBQ. Accessed 11.05.2020.

[6] ‘Around the Beatles Rehearsal Tape’.

[7] Albert Maysles and David Maysles (Dir.). What’s Happening! The Beatles in the USA (1964). Maysles Film.

[8] Emma Smith. This is Shakespeare: How to Read the World’s Greatest Playwright (2019). London: Pelican Books, p. 85.

[9] Hunter Davies. The Beatles’ Lyrics (2014). London: Weidenfeld &Nicolson, p.378.

#Youtube

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alittlefrenchtree · 8 months

Note

Ok I'm sending you some of your own RWRB questions: Number 1,2, 5, 7, 10, 13,14, and 19 (i had to stop myself from sending the whole list lol)

Thank you so much! Maybe I'll end up answering every question on my own anyway but it's nice starting with your selection 🥰

#1 What was your introduction to Red, White and Royal Blue? How did you become aware of it, what was your first impression of it?

I didn't know anything about it until @petitmimosa started rambling about it a few weeks/couple of months(?) ago. I think she saw the trailer on prime, read the book then watch the movie? I was only half listening (she rambles a lot about a lot of stuff) because I was pretty sure I wouldn't be interested at all (romcoms aren't really my thing).

Then FREAKING TUMBLR decided that RWRB would be the only thing I'll be seeing on my dash for days and days. So I'd say to myself, if I'm going to be forced to look at pics and gifs of these two guys AGAIN and AGAIN, may as well know what this is all about. So I've watched the movie and surprisingly had a good time. And since Internet (and algorithms) keeps showering with rwrb content (nothing else is happening in the cinema industry anyway), I've decided to roll with it and enjoy the said content. I read the book quickly after and even if it was fun, I think I like the movie better.

#2 Team Alex or Team Henry? (I know you love them both equally but choose anyway. OR choose depending of the circumstances. Like, "I’d go shopping with Alex but I’d marry Henry. Or I’d hug Alex but I’d go karaoke with Henry. I don’t know. Try something.)

Even if I like Henry and find him very precious, I think I'm Team Alex. I like how refreshing he is. You can't really be sad watching him and not only because he looks cute af. But all love to both, obviously.

#5 Choose one scene from the book to add to the movie.

I'm not sure because I don't know the book that well but I know how I felt reading this

“Dear Thisbe, I wish there weren’t a wall. Love, Pyramus”

and I wish they'd found a way to include it in the movie. Maybe not in the way of the book, because that might have not worked as best as it should but in some way. I don't know.

#7 Tell us something you like better in the movie than in the book.

Oh man, so many things. One of the main thing, I like that Alex is more freaked out by being into Henry that being into guys in general in the movie. There are important scenes following, about owning the term bisexual in front of other people but being into guys feels less a big (and long) deal than in the book for him. Which is good. I feel like the "i'm bi, so what?" is a good mood to put out there in 2023.

I know the point has been quite a debate here and there so I hope I put the right words to express my view on this.

And tell us something you like better in the book than in the movie.

A couple of things :

I would have liked for Bea to have a bit more substance as a character in the movie.

and, and that could have been an answer to the "share an unpopular opinion", I'm not the biggest fan of the parisian night scene. Not by Taylor and Nick's fault because the shots of their faces and how they acted are very delicate but I'm very not into the directing, the blocking and the editing of this scene. If felt too heavily romcom coded for my taste (and for my french person leaving near Paris' eyes), when one of the strength of the movie (for me) is being fresh and fun with the romcom codes.

10- You’re in a difficult situation where you have only one call to get help (or to save your life), who are you calling? Amy, Zahra or Ellen?

Zahra, every day, everywhere. I wouldn't trust anyone more than someone who reminds me that much of Sam Marquez in the tvshow Las Vegas.

13- A detail you feel like it’s not enough discussed. Whether it’s a scene, a quote, a frame, a piece of acting, a decor…) Time to ramble about it!

Oh I have two actually! The first good thing I have said about the movie is how much I like the opening credits. The music is good, the visuals are good, I like it a lot.

The second has probably been discussed over and over (and my recording sucks) but

I need daily screaming about the softest, smoothest, most determined "no." I ever heard in my entire life.

14- Favorites outfit(s) in the movie? (You can pick as many as you want, from as many characters as you want. But if you reply with a screenshot of a naked person, I’m going to put you in horny jail).

I wrote the question with one outfit in mind

My only regret is that he's not wearing matching pants (there must be matching pants, right?) cause I feel like AGCD wouldn't have shy away from them. And that would have been epic.

Honorable mention for the denim look 💙 that was wasted on Miguel.

#19 is going to take me forever to answer so I'll add something later :)

Thank you again for playing with me 💜💜

All the questions here !

#alft asks #red white and royal blue #rwrb

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guccigarantine · 1 year

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when they play War in the Year 1424 of the Perfect Millennium I love Janine’s commitment to having Thisbe do “cool” rolls only because Thisbe is literally the “wow cool robot” meme

#thisbe is an incredible character #janine is so good #pzn relisten

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vforvalensa · 5 months

Text

#friends at the table #fatt #f@tt #palisade #coriolis sunset #cori #i roll with thisbe #thisbe #mow #fatt fanart #my art

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lumosinlove · 3 years

Text

Between Fifth and You

(cw in tags)

chapter one

“Olives or twist?”

Sirius had to watch the barkeep’s mouth to make out the words beneath the pounding music, which meant Sirius caught the way his eyes skittered across his face almost fearfully. The sheer amount of obsidian in this place probably did nothing to lighten his features. Not to mention, few people knew how to look him in the eye.

“Twist,” he said.

The man nodded and flipped the bottle of gin until it dipped into a shot glass, the glass into the ice. Sirius watched until he was stirring the bitters in and a hand appeared on his shoulder, lips to his neck.

“Burn this,” Saint said, and plucked at Sirius’ shirt sleeve, rubbing the black material between his fingers. Sirius raised an eyebrow as he turned. Saint’s own shirt was unbuttoned half way down his hard chest, light brown skin warm in the flashing club lights. “You’ve worn it too many times.”

“Hello to you, too,” Sirius said. “I like this shirt.”

“I liked it two months ago,” Saint replied. “It’s September now, your highness.”

Sirius scoffed as the bartender slid him his drink.

“You gonna tell everyone the sun did that?” Sirius took a clean sip of gin with one hand and stroked his other through Saint’s gold curls, only suddenly some of the slightly course strands were almost white.

Saint’s grin turned coy. “Isn’t it nice to have a mystery to think about?”

“Oh, yeah, do blonds have more fun?”

“You wouldn’t know.”

The music kicked up a beat that Sirius felt through his spine.

“Why do we always come here?” he leaned a hip against the bar. “We have an entire city.”

“Yeah, fuck the rest of the world, we have one whole city.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

Saint shook his head. “Because that’s what we do. You see that guy over there? I’ve taken him out four times. Couldn’t tell you his name. They couldn’t tell you mine.”

“Everyone knows your name, Saint.”

Saint grinned. “Maybe. But why do we go back to each other? Because we’re creatures of fucking habit.” Saint cocked his head, stole Sirius’ drink. “And what is this city but a bad, bad habit?”

Sirius’ blood cooled and he looked away.

What am I, Sirius? said the familiar voice from his memory. Am I easy? Am I safe? Do you want me, or am I just familiar now?

He closed his eyes against the memory of his reply.

Bad habit indeed.

XOXO

Spotted—a familiar face from the past. What has this train brought in? Thanks to a tip from @magicinthemaking, I bring you this picture of none other than Remus Lupin (and a certain Southern bell we know and love) under Grand Central’s stars. We missed you, Re—how was England? Or was it Europe?

The rumors can never seem to decide, but why the sudden change in plans to take his Junior year abroad? Here we were thinking he wanted nothing more than to stay.

I wonder how another certain star will feel about this sudden homecoming. And just in time for senior year’s Fall semester, too.

XOXO.

Remus adjusted his suitcase, glad he’d mailed so many of his things home. He’d been on U.S. soil for all of three hours, and he already missed Rome. He wanted to walk down the tiny staircase from his billet family’s apartment and get a cappuccino. He wanted to stand on the drain of the Pantheon and soak up the sheer history in the air.

He already wanted a break.

But he also wanted to see Julian. Sometimes it felt like the only thing pulling him back home was seeing his baby brother’s grin in real life rather than across a Facetime call.

“All good?”

Remus looked up at Leo. His blond hair was still bleached a bright blond from the Roman sun. Their program had ended in May, but Remus was glad they had stayed together. He hadn’t been looking for Leo—for someone to kiss for the first time in the rose garden at the top of the Aventine Hill while Leo told him about its past as a cemetery.

It’s footpaths are laid out like a Minorah, see? Leo had pointed out. To remember. 300 different types of roses isn’t enough. But I like to come here.

Remus thought it had been Leo’s love for history, and his respect, too, that had drawn him in. They both came from a world where the biggest thing most people cared about was what they’d wear to the next party, and who was bringing their next drink.

Remus hadn’t been able to believe his luck, as fragile as his heart was still.

“Yeah,” Remus nodded. “All good.”

But he wasn’t sure. They hadn’t been friends here, in the city, or at Hogwarts. It had been Rome. Remus didn’t know what their old lives would do to them. But he took Leo’s hand and watched the way Leo fingered the star he wore around his neck, the way he shot Remus his dimpled smile.

“Come on,” Remus said. “I want you to meet Julian.”

XOXO

Good morning Upper East Siders—Gossip Girl here. All trends point to Fall’s Hogwartsers coming back in Black—in more ways than one. Sirius Black’s got a baby brother on campus now, and after another wild summer for the Hogwarts College elite, count me in with the rest of them on wondering what to expect. Rumor is he’s not much like our favorite star.

“You don’t have to talk to me, you know.”

Sirius kept his eyes on his eggs and toast. “Your missing your tie. Mom said—”

“What do you care?” Regulus replied. “I hear when she used to make you wear one it usually ended up around some other guy’s neck by ten in the morning.”

“If you’re going to believe everything you read on Gossip Girl about me, then maybe I won’t talk to you.”

Regulus smirked. “So, you read it, too.”

“Boys.”

Both brothers went back to their breakfasts.

“Good morning, mom,” Sirius said.

Walburga Black smiled with her painted lips, resting a hand on Sirius’ shoulder and bending to kiss his cheek.

“Don’t you both look handsome for your first day. Although that leather jacket has seen better days, Sirius. Do what you want for dinner, ask Chef, I don’t care. I’ll be at the House.”

The House. The House of Black, his mother’s million dollar fashion industry.

“Fine,” Regulus nodded, and rose. “I’ll take the first car.”

Sirius rolled his eyes again. “Really?”

Regulus just snatched up his backpack.

Saint, James, and Thomas were waiting for him on one of the courtyard tables when Sirius got out of the Escalade. It certainly felt like a first day of a semester. Saint’s neck dripped in gold necklaces—a story behind each one. Thomas, who had replaced his short braids with a closely shaved head, wore a white t-shirt and ripped up jean shorts, gold nose-ring glinting in the sun. James had evidently been helped out by Lily, as usual, a green, tight-fitting Henley shirt bunched up at his elbows. The two flanked Saint, who basked on top of the stone table, head tilted back to bare his throat in a way that made Sirius think of last night, in the back of the bar. He could see a purplish mark he had left there.

“You’re looking surprisingly chipper,” James said when Sirius reached Hogwarts’ courtyard.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, knowing he didn’t. “I’m not failing any classes yet, James.”

His friends went oddly silent. Sirius looked around at them, spreading his hands in confusion. Saint wouldn’t look at him, expression going oddly stoney. Thomas, finally, offered him his phone, biting his lip. Sirius took it.

His heart leapt to his throat. He didn’t even bother reading the Instagram caption. Remus loomed out at him from the phone screen.

“Leo Knut,” Saint said. “Who would have thought.”

Sirius cleared his throat and turned away from the picture—from Remus and Leo’s clasped hands.

“Why wouldn’t I be chipper?” he said again, and ignored their unconvinced expressions. “I’ve got class.”

Under his desk while he waited for the rest of the class to show, Sirius pulled out his phone and opened Instagram.

XOXO

Remus approached campus slowly. He felt like he didn’t know anyone anymore, even if he knew that wasn’t true. He thought he saw James from afar, but Lily and Kasey didn’t have class today.

Really, Remus didn’t know if he had many friends that weren’t…shared. That didn’t feel too close to home. Manhattan wasn’t that big of an island.

He looked down at his schedule he’d written out on his phone.

The 19th Century Novel - Hogsmeade R#302.

He made his way to the Hogsmeade building and climbed the spiral staircase quickly. It all felt too industrial, too metallic. At least he’d woken up with Leo, who still had the ancient air about him. He didn’t want that bubble to pop.

“Mr. Lupin,” Professor McGonagall beamed when he walked in, and Remus smiled, too at her familiar Scottish drawl. “It’s so very nice to have you back.”

“Hi, Professor. It’s good to be—”

But the words died on Remus’ tongue. He looked out at the small class—just twenty at this high level—and his heart, out of habit it seemed, had leapt at the sight of familiar dark hair.

Uh-oh. Looks like Pyramus and Thisbe are actually wishing for a wall between them this time.

Sirius’ hair was shorter than it had been at the end of sophomore year, the last time Remus had seen him. He wore a touch of a beard, too, just scruff, really, but it framed his silver eyes like darkness to the stars—two stars, which were zeroed in on Remus.

“Back,” Remus tried to recover, mouth dry. He sent McGonagall a shaky smile, and turned to find a seat, trying not to find those stars again.

He resisted the urge to close his eyes in defeat when he realized that there was only one left. He walked towards Sirius looking ahead and with his heart pounding. Leo. Leo making pancakes for him and Julian this morning. Leo making his little brother laugh. But he could smell the worn leather of Sirius’ jacket. He remembered the feel of it around his own shoulders. Are you cold, baby?

“All righty, then,” McGonagall stood from her chair and leaned against the front of her desk, looking down her spectacles at the attendance sheet. “Looks like we’re all here.”

XOXO

“Well?” Saint asked as Sirius took the joint from between his fingers.

“Sat down next to me,” Sirius said. “Didn’t say a fucking word.”

“Did you say a fucking word?” Saint raised his eyebrows.

Sirius blew out smoke. “No.”

“Well, all right, you fucking hypocrite.”

Sirius looked over at him from where they lay side by side, stretched out in the fading sunshine of Central Park. “I’m keeping this now.”

“No, you’re not. Did you pay for that? I don’t think so.”

Sirius scoffed. “Yeah, like this made a dent in the Montague treasuries.”

Saint laughed, tucking a palm behind his head. Sirius let his eyes linger on the strip of skin where his shirt rode up. He’d kissed that last night, too. It was nice with Saint. He’d been friends with him for longer than he could remember. Saint never looked for more. If Sirius snapped at him, he snapped back and then they laughed about it. Saint wandered through the world loving people freely. He kissed them, or he made them dinner, or he took them for long walks along the river. He showed them his favorite jazz club, or gave them the orgasm of their life, or read to them from his favorite books. He was New York in human form, accepting and inviting, living and breathing.

Sirius wished he was so trusting, even if trust seemed a funny word to apply to Saint.

No one ever got too close to either of them, except the other.

“What are you wearing to your mom’s fashion show?” Saint asked with his eyes closed. “It’s the event of the season.”

“Are you joking? The fittings started in July.”

“Mm, I love that,” Saint grinned, stretching. “Want to come help me decide what I’m wearing? We’re at the Plaza right now, you know that. You know my mother. If it’s not broken, break it. We’re renovating again. We can order champagne to the room.”

“Is that code for make out?”

“Partly. But I will be showing you my outfit choices.”

“Deal.”

XOXO

Remus made it back home seeing no one, but one of the butlers had an envelope with his name on it waiting for him.

“Thanks, Moody,” Remus murmured, but thought briefly about handing it right back to him.

He knew this invitation. He knew its black boarders and heavy stock. It came ever year.

It used to be something they had looked forward to.

The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black

invites you

TOUJOURS PUR

“Jesus,” Remus breathed, but took it up to his room, checking the time on the way. Julian would still be at school, his parents at work. This apartment was too big for the four of them, not to mention just Remus alone.

His suitcases still lay open and unpacked on his floor, and he kicked at one without looking up.

“So, did you just forget to mention that you were home?”

Remus spun towards his bed, only to find Lily sprawled across it and fiddling with an emerald on a chain.

“I had to find out from Gossip Girl?” Lily shook her head.

Remus slapped the invitation against his thigh. “Wow, wasn’t like that was a surprise present for you or anything.”

Lily smiled, red hair in a thick french braid. “I see green and I know it’s for me. What can I say?”

Remus huffed out a laugh, and she gave a small squeal and pushed off of the bed to wrap him in a hug.

“I’m so happy you’re home, Re.”

He let himself rest his chin in the crook of her neck for a moment. ‘Thanks, Lils.”

She pulled back, hands on his shoulders. “What, no, me too?”

“I am,” he said tentatively. “But I had fun in Rome.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Southern fun?”

“His name is Leo,” Remus said pointedly, then eyed the pile of garment bags piled high on the other side of his bed. “Are those…”

“Pour moi, et pour toi,” Lily patted his cheek. “We have a fashion show to go to, sweetheart.”

XOXO

What do we think, Courtiers? House of Black’s fashion show is the biggest event of the fall. But what on Earth does doe-eyed Remus Lupin have to do within that dark forest now?

Is he a Bambi, or still the wolf we knew?

You know you love me.

XOXO,

Gossip Girl

#between fifth and you lumosinlove #wolfstar #harry potter #gossip girl #Harry Potter x gossip girl #sirius black #remus lupin #cw: mention of sex #cw: drinking #cw: drugs #Harry Potter fic #the marauders #the marauders era #Harry Potter au #woflstar au

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tkc-info · 2 years

Note

So this is kinda a random question but I saw it on my dash and my immediate thoughts were of TCK (Haoson): If you had to pick, what fairytale romance do you think describes your ships the best. This can be as vague/detailed as you want lol. And obviously no pressure to answer :)

OKAY *rolls the long sleeves I don't have because I don't know cold* I can do this.

Haoson (starting with them because they were your first thought): weirdly enough, Cinderella. Yes, Morgan is Cinderella because her story reflects Morgan's emotional journey --pain, happiness, PAIN, happiness-- and you'll want to kill me by the end of lodgb

Madeleine x Diana (I don't think there's a shipname?): 100% The sleeping beauty, I think it's pretty explanatory who's who here only that Diana didn't get to kiss Madeleine lol. Also, 'Aurora' wakes up after 100 sleeping, sees everyone she loves is dead, and has a huge existential crisis

Haovitt: I’m going to say a somewhat hesitant Mulan, because I know it’s your favourite animation-movie (I think?). I’m choosing Mulan because Cal and Hunter do a lot of stuff with the Emperor of China (Morgan) being kept in the dark. Also, they somewhat have this thing where Hunter/Li Shang teaches Cal/Mulan stuff about The Kinship/the Army

Vernitaker: a very vague Rapunzel, and Oliver is the ‘princess’ for *reasons*. And I have a scene planned in my head that can vaguely be explained through ‘hair’

Atalanta x Mysterious Guy We May Not Have Met Yet (this took me way too long istg): the take (?) of Pyramus and Thisbe :)

#it took me way too long to answer this lol #I have like 0 knowledge if fairytales #:(#the kinship chronicles #wagner!#I love questions like these though!

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jelzorz · 4 years

Text

rbb07: written in the stars

There's a story in the human kingdoms that gets tossed around a lot whenever nobles and dignitaries talk about their relationship in front of them. Rayla doesn't know it, but she's familiar enough with the names and characters now that she can smile and nod politely whenever it's brought up.

For a while, it's not important enough to even remember asking Callum about. She files it away, another dig (or perhaps not?) about the irregularity of their relationship, nothing she's not used to, nothing she cares much for— but the treasurer of Del Bar says something that makes her cock her head.

"You remind me of Pyramus and Thisbe," he says. Most people who say so sound wistful, like it's some sort of great romance to aspire to, but this one sounds cool and oily. Rayla's never liked him. This isn't helping.

"That's original," she says, aiming for indifferent but coming off as sarcastic instead. Such a shame. "I hear their romance was pretty legendary."

The treasurer sneers. "So it was," he drawls. "A pair of star-crossed lovers indeed. May you and His Highness have better luck." He bows then and takes his leave, leaving Rayla scowling after him in the cold stone halls of Del Bar castle without really knowing why she'd pissed off.

She mentions it to Callum later.

"What do you humans mean by 'star-crossed'?"

"Hm?" Callum pauses and his quill stills in his hand. He's halfway through writing a letter to Ez, and the parchment rolls back together when he leans back to study her. His lips tilt into an exasperated smile. "Did someone mention Pyramus and Thisbe again?"

Rayla snorts, perhaps a little more sheepishly than she intends. "Maybe."

Callum hums once more. "You've never seen the play, huh?"

"I've never really had the chance," she says dryly, because they've spent almost waking moment together since he offered her a home on this side of the border, so he would know.

"Right," chuckles Callum, like he's just remembered that himself. "Star-crossed means doomed to fail. Destined to end in tragedy. Kind of... frustrated by what's written in the stars."

"Oh." That's not romantic at all. That sounds like it sucks, and Rayla finds herself frowning at the enthusiasm other humans have for it. Suddenly the treasurer's sneer makes a lot more sense.

"I think it's stupid," says Callum, turning back to his letter. "It's tragic and romantic and all, but it's a load of bull. No offense to Pyramus and Thisbe but things don't work like that in real life. The stars don't have it out for you. Destiny's a book you write yourself."

"You would know, would you?"

"Yeah," says Callum firmly. Confidently. Like he's daring Destiny to prove him wrong right now. "I would."

Rayla chuckles and looks away. She doesn't know what else she expected. He's never believed in destiny. Why should she?

#rayllum #rayllum birthday bash #rip to pyramus and thisbe but cal and rayla are different #didnt think Shakespeare existed in their universe #pyramus and thisbe are just romeo and juliet but greek

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swallowtailed · 5 months

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palisade 33 !!

this episode fucking whips

so, first thing: labyrinths. the easy association is labyrinth as maze, a place to become lost. but labyrinths can be places to find, as well—paths to follow. you’re supposed to be able to find answers at the center of that kind of labyrinth. (it’s the origin of the term, technically.) which is very appropriate for dust/reflection: once helping people to find understanding, now setting them to wander without a destination.

feels right that figure questions the dream immediately—of course they doubt their dreams, after clem. and thisbe believes the dream because it confirms her doubts, and cori believes it because it gives her what she wants… fucking heartbreaking.

the dreams all place the dreamers in community, but a hollow kind—community out of context. you’re never alone in a catacomb. (are the afflictions lonely?)

i’m curious in what way this has already happened, considering it’s false (according to gur). do they know that or believe it? (not that there’s historically been much of a difference for them.)

figure’s alternate future being one in which they drive their new life like a stolen car and somehow survive while their crew dies… immediately pulling gur and then cori into the dream with them… their life is so bound up with the blue channel. i’m glad they made it this far.

“gucci got a promotion, and then was assassinated” is so funny. i mean obviously bleak as hell. but hilarious

cori showing up in figure’s dream in their context instead of hers, as a zombie in a wrecked mech, would’ve been horrifying enough to break immersion so i get why the dream didn’t do that but like can you fucking imagine

very fun to see cori fight side by side with elle in her dream. i wonder what elle’s dreaming.

also i’m just obsessed with the way sylvi plays cori—the setup and the swing.

thisbe’s dream is essentially being in the “correct” context, right. she’s farming and working with other thisbes. which is something we know she wants, but it’s fascinating to see what holes exist in that dream—missing the blue channel, foremost.

gonna be interesting to see how brnine tries to break her out! very excited for whatever that scene looks like

biggest concern for the rest of this arc is that i don’t see a clear way out of the dust dreams, and the margin for error is pretty narrow. next ep (which… will be not this week?) is gonna be tense. on the other hand, i like that the clocks tick on character choices rather than rolls—feels like any failure will be earned.

eclectic this ep: brooding over your past mistakes is very noir sleuth. carrying around a first edition alise breka novel is not very classically noir but it is extremely good. also it’s definitely the one about leap

with everything else happening i almost forgot about integrity’s new, uh, hand. it’s probably human size, and it’ll probably grow a human size body, but i’m also imagining brnine returning to find a forty-foot black marble mech curled up in their room like a hermit crab. (also: integrity really does think of itself as a tool in a hand, huh.)

hey, if the train brain got a dust copy, does that mean it’s sentient? what is it dreaming??

i think the one human in muppet palisade should be cori, for the reason that i don’t want muppets to have blood. my secondary proposal would be routine rennari

so glad the flash nautilus is free <3

I Roll With Thisbe

#fatt #palisade #palisade spoilers #hello world #fatt lb #33 is so many. how long is this season gonna BE

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podcasts-good · 3 years

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partizan 47 operation shackled sun act 3: the stories told about the things we do

finale, finale (sob)

god. motion just is fucking going. clone inside of a mech inside of a mech.

Pact and Glory are tapping out of the fight.

Austin: ... the Clem that wanted to take Fort Icebreaker.

THE BOMB POPPIES??? jesus, clementine on the throne, literally surrounded by mines.

OH, lmao, aw, Dre's dog.

clementine treating bismuth as a tool, explicitly and then Figure just destroying his mecha. also, Figure, using the Will of the Witch to explicitly go against what Clem wants.

Ali: Can I Have Some?

MILLIE. MILLIE. You’re going to what?

Keith: I'll also say, since we instituted the rule that you don't get kicked off the podcast for meta gaming...

Austin: Uh-huh.

Art: Wasn't "meta gaming." It was "expressing a desire for closure."

Austin: Not a rule. Still not a rule.

Art: I've read the operating agreement.

Austin: Oh my god.

god. SI COMMITTING TO DYING??

“I’m going to stay here with Millie.” God.

Art: It’s a very religious blast door.

MILLIE HEDGES AND STEPS THROUGH THE GATE. The true Divine. Steps into Motion’s head for a little.

Austin: Phrygian was [a tabletop game] briefly.

god. Thisbe is so hand in hand with violence for cool and doubt. BECOMING A ROTATING TURRET. Broune’s doing a lot of helping via piloting this round.

jesus, motion’s got that like star trek teleportation.

Thisbe vs. SI stuff is very interesting to me.

Ooh, now Kalar is dreamlike. OH, FULL FAILURE. JESUS. ho, i am worried about bird dad.

the Curtain Fray. Keith. GAb, huh.

THERE’S ALREADY SOME WOUNDS HERE, CAN I OPEN THEM UP WITH AESEPSIS?

the blue channel moving very slightly from the kickback of the t-shirt cannon.

oh god. NO ONE LIKES THIS!

Girandolia huh.

SI has to get Millie home. SI has to get Mille home and he will die.

“What did the camera see coming that I didn’t?” You don’t see the rescue ship coming. Oh my god.

OH MY GOD.

Art (as Sovereign Immunity): We’re almost there. We’re almost there.

Sylvi (as Millie): We’re almost there.

I’ve just started breathing really hard and crying. Oh my god.

SI’s roll being Locked means so much.

Austin: It’s a 12, it went up.

Good lord. Kalmeria.

God, something about the two 2d6 rolls were Ali’s and Keith’s?

Kalar going from place to place, Phrygian leading military action, Bismuth in a cave, alone.

Millie... Millie...... STRAY DOGS. OF COURSE. I WAS JUST THINKING ABOUT MILLE FILLING ICEBREAKER PRIME WITH DOGS.

Broun and Thisbe hanging out, the Blue Channel filling with plants.

Sovereign Immunity, dead.

Millenium Break, knows who they are, despite everything.

#Friends at the Table #Partizan #Partizan Spoilers #liveblog

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cultofbeatles · 4 years

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so... can you explain to the newbie (me) what the relationship was between Paul and John? i read that it was like love-hate but i'm still confused...

this is such a complicated question. because john and paul had a complicated relationship.

in the beginning they started out as close friends. john was the first person paul met who shared his interest in songwriting and music. the same for john. paul taught john how to tune his guitar, and also taught him cords. john started his band, and paul was deadset on getting it going. they would skip school together and play guitar. paul deadass said john and a few other friends would have circle jerks. they bonded over losing their mothers at such young ages. when it came to picking between following his father’s wishes or staying by john’s side, paul choose to stay with john. paul had people telling him john was a bad seed but he wouldn’t listen. when john was given birthday money he went off to paris with paul and bought him all the milkshakes he wanted. things got complicated in later years but the beginning of their friendship funded the ground for their strong bond.

“john and me, we were kids growing up together, in the same environment with the same influences. he knows the records i know, i know the records he knows. you’re writing your first innocent songs together. then you’re writing something that gets recorded. each year goes by, and you get cooler clothes. then you write the cooler song to go with the cooler clothes. we were on the same escalator - on the same step of the escalator, all the way. its irreplaceable - that time, friendship and bonding.” - paul mccartney, rolling stone interview.2016.

cynthia (john’s first wife) said that john and paul spent less of their free time together. it was all work. john once stated that he felt like paul just used him for a songwriting partner and not as a friend. they sort of had a competition going on with each other. they would try to one up each other on songs. best example is strawberry fields forever and penny lane. but i wouldn’t call that a love-hate relationship. it’s mainly just two dudes with big enough egos that want to do better than the other. but they still had that close bond. john said his favorite songwriter was paul. paul said he’d like to write a musical with john, and he’d always include john in his future plans with music. they would go on walks together with paul’s dog martha. they did a shakespeare skit where they played characters pyramus and thisbe and they both named their cats after them. there was one night when they both got drunk in a hotel room and cried with each other. paul holds john’s compliment for here, there, and everywhere as the highest praise in the world. paul was like an uncle to julian (john’s son). once they were arguing and john pulled his glasses down and said “it’s only me.” george and ringo walked out during sessions but it was john saying he was leaving that broke paul. there’s audio of them messing around and having fun in the studio.

“he’s like a brother. i love him. families - we certainly have our ups and downs and our quarrels. but at the end of the day, when it’s all said and done, i would do anything for him, and i think he’d do anything for me.” - john lennon

after the breakup things were complicated. john was mad at paul and paul was mad that john was mad at him. in a way it was bound to happen. but no matter what they had each other’s back. when paul was arrested for possesion of weed john gave a long ass rant about it that no one asked for. they could say the meanest shit about each other but the second anyone else said something about the other it was a nightmare. they stood up for each other no matter how pissed they were. the break they had for the seventies was needed. their friendship needed a reset. so when they got back together again they were meeting a new john lennon and a new paul mccartney. they bonded over baking bread lmao. theres a lovely 1975 interview of john where he talked fondly of paul and the beatles. saying that he knew paul would be fine after the breakup. john hugged paul and said “touch is good.” there was a box john had labeled “for paul” that had songs in it. there’s a video of paul saying he could never hate John, was never against him, and that he was a “beautiful boy”. paul also said that if he could spend one more day with john he’d spend it in bed.

“john? oh he was beautiful. very beautiful.” - paul mccartney

“think of me every now and then, old friend.” - john lennon’s last words to paul mccartney

#well u did it anon #thanks for making me cry while writing this out #I miss John lennon so much if I could give him my life years I would instantly #but I'm so so grateful that John and paul were on good terms when John died #I don't know how paul would of handled it if they weren't #asks #anon asks #welcome to the fandom btw #answered #personal

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