#how did she not get a BAFTA nomination??? what the fuck??

[patrickzvveig]

ambika mod really walked away from This is Going to Hurt without a nomination from almost any prestigious awards associations what is wrong with the world lmfaoooooo??!???!!!

[doctortwhohiddles]

If someone fucked it up big time, it's Patty. Had she simply accepted reality when she was shown Kit's birth certificate, she wouldn't be in this mess. She keeps looking like a fucking idiot. She might have made her blog private, but her cult members haven't. Meaning that any potential employer googling her will still find her BS. So I very much doubt the job hunting is doing well.

As for Mstoxictea, real fans are excited about all his projects. Not just the Marvel stuff. She also needs to get out of her echo chamber. From what I've seen, people are actually excited to see RDJ as Doctor Doom. My guess is that she's pissed because it sounds too much like Doctor Strange.

Again, Ben's career is doing fine. Since he got together with Sophie, he won an Emmy and a BAFTA. He got nominated for an Oscar twice. His production company keeps producing well reviewed projects. Etc. Does that sound like someone who is fucking it up? Can you imagine how the sQeptics would have reacted had that video of Sophie with Jane during the filming of TPoTD had been shown before the Oscars? They would have boycotted it like they did Eric.

[ingravinoveritas]

Just popping by to say how much I appreciate you. Thank you for always keeping a level head. Even when you're disagreeing or calling out bullshit, you still manage to stay diplomatic and respectful. And of course, you always focus on the important things, the main one being that Michael is David's #1 fan (and vice versa)

Aw, thank you so much for this! I can't tell you how nice it was to get this message in my inbox (and apologies for not replying sooner, as I've been entirely swamped and am now trying to catch up on my Asks).

Given that this was from two weeks ago, I'm going to guess that this is mainly in response to the whole situation with David's BAFTA nom and some of the reactions that have occurred as a result. I think a lot of people have said a lot of clumsy things (looking at you, Neil) and while some may not have meant to take away from David's big moment, that still seems to be what's happened. I absolutely believe David is more than deserving of the nomination and it is long overdue at this point. He should've been nominated for Des, or even before that, his role as Alec Hardy in Broadchurch, but I am so glad he's finally gotten a nomination now.

I think the reaction a lot of people had was borne out of how tied together David and Michael's performances are as Aziraphale and Crowley, and the thought that if David were to be nominated for that specific role, then one hopes that Michael will also be nominated for his role as Aziraphale at some other point in the future.

But to your comment about my keeping a level head, I find it interesting that, in the midst of all the theories flying around about why Michael wasn't nominated and questions I got to that effect, this post showed up in the tags the same day you sent me this Ask (blog name is cropped out):

This was very obviously in reference to this Ask that I received and had answered just prior to then. This person didn't even have the nerve to mention my blog by name, but had no problem calling me an "rpf fucker" (really nice...). The question pertained to whether Michael's lack of a BAFTA nom could have been because of Anna's off-putting social media posts prior to the announcement, and I indicated in my response that I did not believe this was the case. I am not about to place blame on Anna for something that she had no part of--which I suppose this person was hoping I would do, to give credence to their ludicrous claims of sexism--and I made my position on the matter clear.

So to your comment about me disagreeing, this was exactly what happened...and yet this person had to twist what I wrote so far around (to the point of lying by omission) just to make their point. And yes, I took that Ask seriously, as I take every Ask/Anon that I get seriously, even the ones that attack me (which is also why it takes me for-freaking-ever to answer the questions in my inbox). According to the above blogger, however, instead I should've responded to the person who sent the Ask by mocking them and telling them how ridiculous and stupid they are. Because just politely disagreeing while still allowing someone the space to share their thoughts is so horrible, but telling someone to fuck off is apparently the height of discourse. Ugh.

In any case, I am very much grateful for this message, and for you and everyone else who follows my blog and has been so lovely. It's your encouragement and kindness that gives me the drive to keep posting, so thank you! ❤️❤️

[darklingichor]

How To Be Champion, by Sarah Millican

Well, I did it again, I have too many books and not enough year left, so time to post and extra entry!

I recently discovered Sarah Millican's stand ups and I love them! In one of them, she mentioned her book and I knew I had to read it.

It's fantastic! Other than Jenny Lawson, I don't think I've related so much to someone's writing.

How To Be Champion is part autobiography, part essay collection, and part advice column. In this book "Champion " is slang for good, okay, content, happy.

Ms. Millican is from the North in England and like every geographical region, has its own slang.

Me being raised in the PNW in the 90's the closest equivalent would probably be "How To Be Chill". But I like Champion better, doesn't have the demand of calmness.

Anyway, Ms. Millican goes through her childhood with supportive parents and people at school largely being twatwaffles and this was my experience too.

Something I absolutely loved and I think should be on posters in schools across the globe is when she said not to worry if you don't have a romantic relationship when you're in school, you're there to learn.

I had that viewpoint when I was in school, why do I need to worry about dating when I'm having enough trouble with algebra? I couldn't care less if I had a date on Friday, someone help me understand why someone put the alphabet into math!

She discovers in school that she can write well.

She details her life working hard at several jobs, and getting married young and then getting divorced, before getting into stand up.

Some of the chapters I liked best were ones where she went into how she found wonderful friends who supported her though developing her act as a comic, and the ones where she let's it rip on beauty standards, and life expectations of women.

Ms. Millican has commited the sin of being a woman above a size 2, who doesn't have aspirations of becoming a size 2 and (rightly) thinks that how she looks has nothing to do with her worth as a person or a comic. She has a career, a new loving husband, and pets but doesn't want kids. How dare she make a call like that regarding her own life?

Honestly, I find her inspiring. As a woman who is also bigger and is okay with it most days, it's nice to hear about this from someone who isn't just "love your body" but also "Why the fuck does it matter??"

She wrote about the time she was nominated for a BAFTA and found a dress, and prepared for a fun night out with her husband. This happened, but afterwards she was insulted on the internet and in the press proclaiming that the dress that she wore was awful and she was fat and ugly.

This is just so crappy. And unnecessary, why attack someone like that?

She wrote publicly about how this affected her and how she would just wear that dress again the next year. She happened to have been working the next year, but wore that dress to her show. Hell yeah!

By the way, I was curious about the dress, there's a pic in the book showing part of it, but I wanted to see it full length so: Google. My first thought was: "I want that dress!" It's so pretty!

And Ms. Millican looked damn good in it, but the important thing was that she said she felt good in it, and it's unfair that some people try to take that away from others.

When it comes to kids, it was also cool to read about someone who is open about not wanting kids, and also open about how annoying it is when everyone tells you that you will change your mind, as if other people know what you feel better than you do.

It isn't just the parts that I related to that made this book great, it's also fucking hilarious

From interactions with her family to vacations and outings with her husband to her recipe for cake, this book made me laugh out loud so many times. I adored it!

[artificialqueens]

Been Here All Along (Tayce/A’Whora) - Juno

Summary: A game of spin the bottle turns into a night of realisation for Tayce and A’Whora.

A/N: I hope you enjoy this little story! It was inspired by a prompt list from tumblr and is a one-shot featuring lots of the DRUK2 girls.

“Who’s gonna spin first?”

Joe spluttered with feigned indignation at Veronica’s question and seized the bottle from her hand. “Me, of course. Who else? It is my house.”

“And mine,” Veronica pointed out, “and Tayce’s, and Pip’s! We all live here too, you know!”

Joe ignored Veronica as she normally did, and put the bottle in the centre of the gaggle of people on the living room floor, giving it a violent spin with a flick of her wrist. The twelve of them all watched it go around and finally land on Ginny, who raised their bright yellow eyebrows and pursed their lips into an O.

“Truth … or dare?” Joe asked in her usual dramatic fashion, picking up the bottle and waving it under Ginny’s nose like a microphone.

“Give over!”

“Truth … or dare?”

“Erm, truth. Oh, shut up!” Ginny protested at the collective groan, holding up the plastic cup of alcohol. “Truth first! I need at least another three of these before you catch me taking off my clothes and running down the road, I can tell you that for nothing.”

Tayce felt Aurora’s hand creep into the crook of her elbow, her skin tingling at the contact as it always did whenever Aurora’s hands were on her. Aurora leaned a little closer to breathe words into her ear.

“How often does Ginny do that when you all play this game?”

Tayce had to think about it. “So far only twice. Once in second year, and once this year. But don’t worry, they only got as far as the Spar on the corner.”

“Only twice?” Aurora looked scandalised.

“Okay,” Joe’s theatrical voice and emphatic sweeping gestures with her arms focused all the attention of the eleven people around her as she spoke. “Do you fancy anyone in this group, and how long have you fancied Pip for?”

Everyone shrieked; Tayce grabbed Aurora’s hand and squeezed in glee as Pip mimed throwing the tiny handbag she always carried at Joe. Ginny just grinned and without another word, stood up and left for the kitchen, blowing them all a kiss as they went.

“They don’t really love me,” Pip shrugged, “they just keep me hanging on.”

“I heard that,” Ginny called from the kitchen. “You want some punch?”

“Get a move on, it’s your turn to spin, Ginny!” Lawrence shouted back. “Pryzm closes the doors at eleven, and I want to be fucking buzzing off my tits before we get there.”

Ginny came back into the living area, carrying the plastic tub filled with the bright pink concoction that Asttina had made, the result of plenty of cheap vodka and Sourz and pink lemonade that Asttina insisted was class in a glass, even if the rest of them had their doubts.

“Pip, spin for me, will you love?” Ginny asked, dipping their plastic cup into the tub and filling it with drink.

The game went on for a while, a few more turns taken and a lot more alcohol flowing. Aurora was getting more tactile the more she had to drink - as usual - until her chin rested on Tayce’s shoulder, leaning into Tayce’s right side, her hand still looped in the crook of her elbow and her perfume invading her every synapse.

And Tayce would never admit that just that contact was making her stomach quiver with butterflies.

It was an age before finally Tia’s spin of the bottle landed on Tayce, who had secretly been looking forward to it as they all did, even if none of them would admit it. She felt Aurora’s hand squeeze her again, her hot breath against her neck.

“Tayce -“ Tia began, but Joe held up her hand.

“Tayce,” Joe took over the conversation, continuing her theatrics, “truth, or DARE?”

From the way that Joe was saying dare, and the way the rest of the circle were looking round at her expectantly, Aurora’s fingers digging into her forearm, she knew she had to take one for the team.

She sighed in mock resignation. “Alright, give me a dare, Joe.”

There had been six whole rounds of truths and so the group’s collective cheer could probably have been heard in Tayce’s native Wales - apart from Lawrence whose sudden coughing fit sounded a great deal like sexual tension - but Joe peered at everyone in the group, finally turning back to Tayce.

“I dare you to kiss … Cherry.”

There was a beat of silence around the room before Cherry’s high-pitched cackle filled it.

“What! Why me?” Cherry cried, her eyes darting between Tayce and Aurora in confusion.

And she wasn’t the only confused person in the circle; Tia’s brow furrowed, looking from Tayce and Aurora and then to Joe. As if they all wondered if Joe was more plastered than she was letting on, not to have noticed the elephant in the room.

“Just get it over with,” Veronica muttered, “taxis will be here in a minute.”

“Come on, speed it up!” Lawrence waved her hands at them both. “Pryzm, remember?”

Tayce pulled herself free of Aurora’s welcome warmth and crawled across the circle to Cherry, as the shriek of the girls around them reached fever pitch. When their lips met, Tayce could feel Cherry laughing nervously as she put her hands to Tayce’s face, her touch a little awkward.

There was nothing behind it, but the group around them were shrieking as if they’d just scored a try at the Six Nations. They pulled away to the excitement dying down and Lawrence’s slow clap.

“Great. BAFTA award nomination for romantic moment of the decade. Can we get in the taxis now?”

——

By the time they’d managed to get into the club, it was gone ten, the place was heaving with bodies moving to the music, and none of them could get to the bar with the queue at least three-people deep. Lawrence was complaining that they hadn’t spent more time at home getting drunk before they got there.

“You were the one who insisted on calling the bloody taxis!” Veronica put her hands on her hips.

“I didn’t, that was Ellie!” Lawrence folded her arms. “God, don’t blame me for everything!”

Tayce sniggered behind her vodka and red bull, watching Veronica’s face growing even redder, out of booze or annoyance it was hard to tell. They were all used to Lawrence’s humour by now, and Tayce couldn’t blame Lawrence for taking the piss this much; especially with Veronica, who was just a little too easy to rile up.

“Anyway, it was Aurora’s fault, really. We’d have been here sooner if she’d gotten into the first taxi and not made us all play musical fucking chairs because she suddenly didn’t want to go with Tayce!” Lawrence wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “Don’t know what’s going on there!”

Tayce turned to see where Aurora was, just in time to see her shake her head in exasperation and turn away from them, making her way to the stairs leading to the smoking area.

“Lawrence!”

Lawrence looked confused. “What did I do?”

“I’ll go - see if she’s alright -“ Tayce said, pushing her way through the crowds and heading down the stairs and out to the smoking area. As expected Aurora was there, leaning her back against the wall, her vape pen in hand, blowing clouds of smoke into the rain.

She sighed as Tayce drew near to her. “I don’t think your uni friends like me very much.”

“You always say that, you’ve said that all three years we’ve been at uni, and you know they do like you. They think you’re lush.”

Aurora concentrated on twirling her vape pen around her fingers. “Lawrence doesn’t.”

“She does, you know that complaining about everything is her way of being friendly. The more she complains, the more it means she’s having a good time. Trust me.”

Tayce rubbed Aurora’s shoulder when she didn’t look any happier, while Aurora looked at the ground. “I didn’t get to do any truths, either, or - or dares.”

Tayce spluttered with laughter. “Okay, tell you what, let’s have a round now, just the two of us. So - truth … or dare?” She asked, mimicking Joe’s affected tone and deep, throaty voice.

“Tayce -“ Aurora waved her hand in her direction, but the corners of her mouth were curling, and she screwed her eyes shut as she lost the fight to keep the laughter out of her face.

“Truth or DARE?”

Aurora shook her head, still laughing. “I fucking hate you! Give me a dare, then.”

“You sure you want a dare? Positive?”

When Aurora looked back at Tayce, she was no longer attempting to hide the coy smile, chewing her bottom lip while a gentle flush spread up from her neck to her face.

Tayce couldn’t keep the purr out of her voice. “I dare you to kiss me.”

Aurora’s eyes widened a fraction, darting to the people around them. “Tayce!” She murmured, raising her hand to slap Tayce playfully on the arm.

“What?”

“Don’t look at me like that!” Aurora teased, tucking a lock of dark hair behind her ear.

“Why not?” Tayce smirked, raising her eyebrow. “Scared you’ll fall in love with me?”

But Aurora just ran the fingers of her free hand along Tayce’s arm, up to her shoulder.

“Tayce! I’ve been in love with you since we were kids!”

The words in Aurora’s voice were something Tayce had only heard in her wildest dreams, and now being spoken into existence, they ignited something intense between them. Suddenly their lips had met; Tayce’s head spinning at the thought of finally getting to kiss the friend she’d yearned for for years. Aurora felt like home, the intimacy like the most natural progression in the universe.

At the sound of a cough behind them, one that sounded an awful lot like “sexual tension”, Tayce broke the kiss off and turned to see Ellie pushing Lawrence back into the club and mouthing sorry at them with a grimace.

Turning back to Aurora, Tayce was surprised at her confused expression. “I didn’t realise … but are you and Cherry …”

“No, wait,” Tayce shook her head. “That was just a dare!”

“I thought that Joe wanted you to kiss Cherry because she was trying to make you two -“

“No!” Tayce gesticulated wildly, almost knocking Aurora’s vape pen clean from her hand. “It was just because Cherry is a bit shy, and Joe likes to try to involve her! Don’t worry, Cherry doesn’t fancy me!”

“You’re sure -“

“Yes!” Tayce laughed. “Jesus, you think too much.”

Aurora took a deep inhale, blowing smoke out the corner of her mouth, the air around them filling with the scent of strawberry as she did. “Can you tell what I’m thinking now?”

“Well I’m not a psychic,” Tayce murmured, pulling Aurora close again, “but if you’re thinking the same as me, then it’s that we need to deflate that air bed in my room. You won’t need it if you’re coming in with me.”

“Great minds think alike!” Aurora replied with a coy grin.

[villainousshakespeare]

In The Timing

Tom Hiddleston/Reader

Rated E 

Warnings: Smut, Angst, *But in this chapter only FLUFFFFFF with a teasing mention smut 

Chapters: 4 of 4 + Epilogue

After a horrible first date, you end up at a pub filled with University students. You are feeling rather old and sorry for yourself, until a blond haired Adonis strikes up a conversation with you. Obviously he is too young for you, but what could a little flirting hurt?

@yespolkadotkitty @hopelessromanticspoonie @nonsensicalobsessions @caffiend-queen @thecutestlittlebunbunfairy @vodka-and-some-sass @arch-venus25 @devikafernando @devilish–doll @hiddlesholic @just-the-hiddles @kellatron55 @myoxisbroken @wrathkitty @shae-annelore @kellatron55​ @from-hel-i-with-love​  ciaodarknessmyheart

Chapter 1 - First Meeting

Chapter 2 - The Morning After

Chapter 3 - Years Later

Chapter 4 - Time’s Up

Epilogue

"Ladies and gentlemen, you know my first guest as Loki the God of Mischief and The Night Manager. His new movie,  In The Timing, is currently nominated for a slew of awards, including the Oscar for Best Picture. Please welcome back to the show Mr. Tom Hiddleston."

You smiled as Tom jogged out onto stage to thunderous applause. Or maybe "thunderous" wasn't quite right. Thunderous implied deep, and the cheers for your man were much higher in pitch, clearly spearheaded by all of the overeager women in the audience. You couldn't really blame them. In his monochromatic blue suit and leonine mane of hair, Tom was definitely scream worthy. Still, that didn't mean you wouldn't take great delight in teasing him about his status as heartthrob later.

The response to  In The Timing had been incredible, with glowing reviews and box office receipts that were much higher than expected for an independent romantic comedy. Now, with the studio making a push for it on the awards circuit even more people were coming out to see the movie that was your labor of love in more ways than one.

All of this was wonderful for you and Tom, as you were both receiving accolades and prizes for your disciplines, but it also meant an endless round of press junkets, talk show appearances, and gala screenings all around the world. Most of the weight of this, of course, centered on Tom's deliciously broad shoulders, but you had your own share of speaking engagements as well. To your amusement, he had insisted that the studio coordinate your schedules, so that you were promoting in the same city at all times. He had just gotten you back, he insisted. After seventeen years apart he was not going to spend one night separated from you if there was anything he could do about it.

You were only too happy to go along with this plan. The state of pure euphoria you had been coasting through your days in had come to a screeching halt the first time you were asked to get up onto a stage in front of a thousand people and answer questions about your process and the characters you had imagined. Only Tom, standing to one side of the stage like a proud and nervous papa watching his child win her first spelling bee had kept you grounded. Every time you started to falter, you would look over and see him practically speaking for you with his body language. It would make you giggle inside how earnestly he watched you, reacting to the questions with amusement or indignancy on your behalf. What did it matter, you realized, what anyone else thought of you, when the over grown ginger in the wings believed in you so completely.

That didn't mean, of course, that you would let him off the hook for the swooning fangirls. Someone had to keep his head from becoming too big to fit through the door.

"So, Tom," Colbert was saying as you focused on the interview, "I hear you've got a new picture out."

"I have," he answered with a smile, playing along with one of his favorite hosts. Between the Hank Williams duet and the Hamlet soliloquy, Colbert was right up Tom's alley.

"Yeah, I hear it's pretty dreamy. Or rather you are pretty dreamy in it."

"I don't know about that," Tom chuckled with humility, face going a bit red. "I don't know who would have told you such a thing."

"Oh, my female staff, my daughter, my wife..." Stephen deadpanned as the audience laughed. "What is it about this film that is so... I believe the word was "swoony"."

"Swooy? An excellent word. From the old English geswogen, meaning "in a faint"" you rolled your eyes as Tom pontificated.

"If you say so," Stephen laughed.

"I would say that it's the waistcoats, Stephen," Tom said with an impish grin. "They are rather constraining, depriving the wearer of appropriate oxygen. Hence the swooning."

"I see. Interesting. Now, this is a romantic comedy. Normally those are not big Oscar bait movies. Oscars tends to go more for tradgedy or history... the feel good tropes.

"Exactly," Tom laughed along.

"So what is it about this movie that makes it so appealing to awards voters? Is it the waistcoats?"

"Maybe," Tom smiled. "Maybe it's the waistcoats."

He was so charming, you thought you could feel the adoration from crowd washing towards the stage. He would be on cloud nine tonight, you knew. Tom feeded off of the energy of a crowd in a visceral way. It wasn't ego, exactly, or at least not just. It was the validation of his hard work, and the knowledge that he had shared something with an audience that had touched them on a personal level, made them experience something as a communal group.

With a smug smile you wondered if he would be able to wait until you were back to your hotel tonight before sharing that excitement with you, or if you would have to find a closet or some other private room to slip into for half an hour or so. Over the last few months there had been a number of times when, sometimes for no other reason than a look you had thrown at him, Tom had siezed you by your wrist and dragged you to some semi-secluded spot to have his way with you. Hell, once or twice you had even been the one to push him into an alcove and reach for his zipper. Your relationship all those years ago had been marked by insatiability for eachother, and if anything the years apart had only added to the ferver to touch, taste, and fuck eachother senseless.

"Along with the costuming, which is brilliant - bless our wonderful costuming department - I think the thing that sets this movie apart is its writing," Tom was saying, throwing an adoring glance in your direction. "It really gets to the heart of what it means to be in love. How we, as human beings, with all our foibles and idiosycrosies can be our own worst enemies in the persuit of our heart's desire."

And seriously, how could you not love this man to distraction? 

"The course of true love never did run smooth," Colbert threw in.

"Exactly. Shakespeare said it best as usual. But do you know which character that was?"

"Helena, Midsummer Night's Dream," Stephen said uncertainly.

"Close, very close," your walking Shakespeare anthology smiled sugly. "Hermia. Act I, Scene 1 I believe."

"I'll take your word for it," Colbert surrendered to the master. "So, you're nominated for a slew of awards - a BAFTA, a SAG, an Oscar... is there anyone that you are really gunning for? It's the Oscar right?"

"Well, sort of," Tom hedged.

"What do you mean sort of?"

"I am enormously flattered to be nominated for all of them, of course, and so excited for the film to be recieving so much love. But the award I'm most excited for isn't an acting award for me, or even Best Picture. It's the Adapted Screenplay Award."

"And why would that be, Tom Hiddleston?"

"Well, as I mentioned before, the writing, particularly the dialogue, is truly the star of this picture."

"Uh-hu. No other reason?" the host prodded. "I know you're a private man when it comes to your relationships..."

"With reason, you have to keep a bit of life for yourself."

"Of course. So, what do you want to share with us Tom?"

"Well, it just so happens that the writer of this particular movie is someone very close to my heart," he smiled a dopey smile that made your stomach do filp-flops.

"How close exactly are we talking?" Stephen asked, also shooting you a look.

"Well, Stephen," Tom grinned, "it just so happens that this particular author, this beautiful, brilliant, compassionate woman, has recently become closer to me than people may realize."

"Really?" Stephen grinned back at him. "You know, it just so happens that I see her standing there in the wings. Shall we invite her out here?"

"Well..." Tom threw you a smile, eyes saying that he knew he would be in trouble later, "I really do think that she deserves to be the one sitting out here discussing the movie. She is the reason it is a success after all."

"What do you think ladies and gentlemen?" Stephen asked the audience as you glared at both of them. "Shall we bring her out?"

As a chorus of enthusiastic yeses assailed your ears, you vowed that you would make Tom pay for this later, possibly ususing the pair of fur lined cuffs he didn't think you knew he had purchased when you were strolling through the village the day before. Resigning yourself to your fate you sighed and nodded you head once to their entreating glances.

"Ladies and gentleman, she is the writer behind In The Timing Victoria Thomas," you still were not used to hearing your pen name spoken out loud as often as it was, or responding to it. You were going to have to do something about that soon, you thought.

"That is her pen name, indeed," Tom said as you walked slowly out on stage, glad that you were dressed in a chic Calvin Klien dress that flattered your figure, "I hope you will all join me in welcoming the newly minted Mrs. Hiddleston!"

  It had been a complete suprise. You and Tom had been walking through Central Park, Bobby frisking around you as he chased invisable prey. Your fingers were linked together, and Tom had at least somewhat learned to shorten his long stride to make up for your significantly shorter legs. After a bit of wandering, you had made it to the Shakespear Garden near both Delacourt Theater and Belvedeare Castle, and Tom had pulled you down beside him on a stone bench.

  "This garden," he told you conversationally, "has every flower the is mentioned in Shakespeare's plays planted in it."

  "That's so interesting," you teased, even though you did find it interesting, you loved to give him a hard time over his love of all things Shakespeare.

  "All of those flowers," he went on as though you hadn't spoken, "and not one of them is close to being as beautiful as you are."

  "Tom," you sighed dreamily, snuggling against his chest. Honestly, how had you gotten so lucky?

  "Darling," he said, a nervous tone creeping into his usually confident voice. "I wanted to ask you something."

  "What's that?" you said lazily, enjoying the smell of his skin as he kissed the top of your head.

  "Would you look at me love?" he asked.

  You lifted yourself off of his chest to see an anxious expression to match his voice.

  "I know that we have not been back together for long," he began, hands figiting, "but I think you know how much I love you."

  "I do," you smiled at him. "I love you too."

  "And we have, if you think about it, known eachother for almost two decades."

  "I suppose."

  "Given that, and that I don't think I will survive parting from you again," detaching himself from you, Tom dropped down onto one knee and your mind went blank. "My darling love, will you marry me?"

  You gaped at him in stunned disbeleif, unable to move or speak as the sun glinted off of his copper curls. As your eyes met his you saw a look of hope begin to shade into panic, and realized that you had not given him an answer. Just as you were wondering how mouths and tongues worked, Bobby barked loudly and jumped up onto the bench beside you, breaking the spell that you had been under. You burst out laughing, and after a moment so did Tom as Bobby licked at your face.

"Upstaged by my own dog," he grumbled good naturedly, some of his confidence coming back as you were beaming at him. "  B ut come, darling, ' what sayest thou then to my love? speak, my fair, and fairly, I pray thee  .'"

  "I say yes," you smiled at him as he rose to spin you off your feet in a circle. "Of course yes, Tom!"

  Two days later, in a quiet ceremony attended by just imediate family flown in secretly and his ever vigilant puplicist Luke, the two of you were married in the same spot by your fiesty dirctor Susie, who had obtained her liscense online for the occasion. It was peacful, and even if one or two persistant pedestrians had been able to snap a quick picture of you in your ice blue dress and Tom in a perfectly tailored Ralph Lauren suit, Luke had been able to keep any whisper of it out of the press. As gossip control went, it was a minor miracle.

"So, you two crazy kids tied the knot, huh?" Stephen asked as the crowd finally died down.

"Yes," Tom said quickly, looking a bit nervous. "Though as you may be able to tell by the expression on my beautiful bride's face, we hadn't made the announcement public yet."

"Oh that's okay," Colbert waved it off, "they won't tell, will you guys?"

The crowed laughed at the notion of it staying a secret after such a public announcement.

"Well, congratulations Tom, and to your lovely wife, my condolences."

"Oh, I think Tom's the one who's going to be needing condolences soon," you joked, and Tom gamely winced, though his eyes said he wasn't sure how much you were joking.

"So, why did you agree to marry such an obvious fixer upper?" Stephen asked you. "Couldn't you find anyone good looking?"

"It's a struggle, Stephen," you sighed and the audience laughed, as you had married, by your own reconning, the most handsome man on the planet. "But, well, I'm in love you see."

"Ah," he nodded sagely.

"Yup, I'm in love with Bobby, and the only way to get the dog was to say yes to the man."

"My evil plan worked, you see," Tom chimed in, laughing his endearing ehehe

"You used the dog to get the woman? That's next level planning!"

"Well you see, Stephen," Tom said, staring into your eyes with an intensity that made you forget you were on national TV, "I have been in love with this particular woman for seventeen years. And if it had taken adopting an entire three ring circus to finally get her to marry me, that was what I was going to do. Fortunately for our home, one adorable Spaniel was all it took."

"Seventeen years? Really?" Stephen looked back in forth between you, a wealth of unanswered questions in his eyes.

"Indeed. She led me quite a chase, but I wore her down in the end."

"I have a feeling there's a story here," the host said, in huge understatement, "but I'll wait until your next visit for that."

"I'm afraid that story is not suitible for television," Tom demured.

"Well, can you at least give any advice to the fans out there? Some help for the lovelorn?"

"Well, in the end," he said, giving it his usual deep thought, "all I can say is it's all in the timing."

"And that, my friends, is what we call a segue. You can catch the movie in theaters now."

Tom glanced over to you and winked with a cocky grin, and you thought of all the things that had gone between you, the years and passion and the love. You loved this man with everything you had. He might be insufferable, he might occasionally push you beyond your comfort level, but you knew in that moment and every moment that you were loved with a fierce, constant heart. It was the happy ending you had always dreamed of. And it was yours.

                       Notes:        

Thank you all so much for reading. It has been a wonderful story to write.

[baekchelor]

𝕕𝕒𝕪𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕕𝕖𝕔𝕖𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟

pairings: George Mackay x reader genre: romantic comedy rating: pg13 synopsis: on the set of his new film, golden boy George Mackay learns a basic human truth: that the heart is deceitful above all things.

❝i  love  you  i’ve  never  loved  anyone  else, never  will.❞                                                                                                                  —linda  nightingale

                                                                                               EPILOGUE ◄ ᴘʀᴇᴠ

The night of the Academy Awards, George can't take his eyes off of Y/N. Truthfully, on a daily basis, George finds it hard not to stare at his girlfriend's pretty face. But this particular night of February, it is even harder.

She looks Gorgeous. Now that George [shamefully] admitted to himself he enjoys —to no say like— Taylor Swift's music, he can tell Y/N that Taylor must have written that song about her, not Joe Alwyn. He is a friend of George. They are close, and he is nice, but no way in hell, he is more gorgeous than Y/N.

As they walk through the red carpet, a cheeky smirk on his face, George sing-songs to Y/N's ear, "You're so gorgeous". When Y/N chuckles and briefly looks back at him, George continues, "I can't say anything to your face. 'Cause look at your face."

He remembers back when he decided on the nickname, not only he chose it because Y/N is drop-dead gorgeous, but because she made him so happy, it turns back to sad and there's nothing George hates more than what he can't have.

George laughs, wholeheartedly. He loves this girl more than life itself, and he is confident the internet is already flooding with pictures of him looking at Y/N Y/L/N with stars in his eyes. In fact, he can even imagine the headlines Dean will show him about it.

As Y/N tries to hurry away to give E!News an interview, George manages to grab her hand and pull her towards him. He kisses the back of her head, "Love you."

With a vast, crimson streak across her cheeks, YN playfully smacks George in the tummy, "Stop it you."

This time, Y/N turns around completely. She doesn't respond with another love confession or a mundane me too. It is explicit. It is in the aura around them, and it is in her eyes, and in her smile, "Forever."

She doesn't need to stand on her tiptoes, she's wearing heels, so she's at the perfect height to sweetly peck his cheek. The fans looking from the stands go nuts, squealing and shouting euphorically.

Y/N strokes a thin thread of hair away from his forehead. "Thanks," he smiles, and the crowd woos again. George still wears his hair long. Months ago, he wrapped up filming for the movie that requested him to let it grow —he portrayed a self-thought unconventional young doctor who lives in Namibia—. Howbeit, Y/N loves how he looks with long hair, and George loves how she twirls her fingers around the golden locks. So as long as he finds it bearable, he will keep the Bodevan Cash look.

"They're louder than usual tonight," he jokes, following Alma and Vanessa to the spot where they're meant to get interviewed.

"Wonder why," sarcastically, Y/N muses. "Mr Oscar Nominee."

George leans closer to her ear, out of earshot for their managers and Ryan Seacrest, "I prefer London Boy if you please."

Y/N laughs, but she isn't able to joke further because Alma announces they're up next. As they expected, the first question is how they feel about Dharma running for Best Motion Picture. The following is meant for George and concerns his nomination for Best Supporting Actor. Although Dharma is a contestant in seven other categories, George and Dev Patel are the only actors among the cast, whose performance were acknowledged by The Academy.

To say the least, he is the favourite on his category. Even Ryan Seacrest seems to think so, he didn't even try to hide his favouritism. "No reason to be nervous," he says, cheering George on.

If George answers with the truth, he would seem a haughty ass, so he just laughs Ryan's comment off. But George isn't nervous indeed. He is beyond honoured, of course, and when he heard his name as one of the nominees, he went nuts. Y/N went nuts. Daisy and his parents, even Alma, shed tears when George screamed the news via FaceTime.

The thing is, he had a month to think it through. Yes, it would be a lie to say he doesn't want to take an Oscar home, but if he doesn't manage, he couldn't care less. George is not an arrogant-ass, he believes Dharma has already given him the best thing in his life. And that is Y/N. Not an award. None award on his home would compare to wake up next to her (George did win a BAFTA, a Golden Globe, a Critics Choice Award and a Cannes Film Festival Award.) She is the award at home. They moved together into a flat in Notting Hill, and there's no bigger prize than brewing coffee every morning and snuggle until both really, really, really have to go. And that is what he tells Ryan Seacrest, "I won't get luckier than this."

George smiles, gazing affectionately at the point where his and Y/N's hands intertwine. They're at the designated seats inside the theatre, they've been inside for forty minutes already, and George still can't believe he got this lucky. Hell, he even offered his dad to buy a Lotto ticket for him. That much lucky George feels. He might even be Irish. Not because he is an Academy Award nominee, and won every fucking statue during the Awards Season. It is because he won Y/N over Luke Hemmings, Dev Patel and Henry Cavill, and she is his, and he is hers.

Every girl George has been with, once the light of reality bathed over them, shifted in form and emotion. Saoirse, Doone, Daisy... the better George got to know them, the most he realised they were perfect for each other on paper, but in real life, they couldn't be further from that. In turn, Y/N painted it all golden. She taught George love is not in the colours he encountered. Love isn't red —you are in love, but don't want to be in love. You don't want to deal with it—, like with Daisy. Neither is black and white —sometimes you treat each other great. Then there are other times when you just fuck each other's lives entirely up. No in-between—, like with Doone.

Y/N showed him love is gold, warm, like daylight.

"Hey, lover," Y/N calls his attention. He loves the nickname, it is his ultimate favourite. A month into their relationship, George learned the origin of Y/N's nicknames for him did reside in Taylor Swift's songs. And Y/N confessed it never got through her head that George called her Gorgeous to subtly let her know he discovered London Boy and Heartbreak Prince were love songs. George chuckled at her naivety, and Y/N burst out laughing when the boy admitted to howling the songs on a bender. Several times. Nowadays she calls him Lover, he calls her as well, and last January, they did leave the Christmas lights. "It's time."

George lets out a breath, "Here we go."

On cue, instrumental music begins, and Sandra Bullock emerges on stage. The first thing that comes out of her mouth is a joke, and it helps George with the jitters starting to creep under his skin. "Timmy, dude, you won this award last year, you know. Wouldn't it be nice to let someone else have a chance? I mean, how much is enough? Think about it." Then she turns a bit more serious, praising the performances of the five nominees in the category, Timotheé included, before she introduces a clip of their astounding acting.

George shakes his head, half in amusement, half in disbelief when his face appears on the screen. The chosen scene to show the audience a glimpse of his performance reveals a blind James reuniting with Marina, the Mumbai Gate behind them. If the Academy knew what went through his mind while they filmed the scene, they would've never selected him. He feels like a cheater. The only bit of acting during James and Marina's reunion was the fact that James was blind. Nothing else. He loved the girl to whom he read the script, as much as James loved Marina, if not more. George wasn't acting. At all.

Y/N squeezes his hand, fingers laced, as she beams at him with love and pride. George is forced to break eye contact when Sandra Bullock speaks again, "Here are the nominees for performance by an actor in a supporting role." Sandra allows a brief pause, then resumes, "Don Johnson. Shall We?" The crowd applause. "Ethan Hawke. Blue." Another big acclaim. "Eddie Redmayne. Amaranth." Applause. "George Mackay. Dharma." The attendants burst into a fit of claps, as the camera broadcasts George's face. He is smiling, clapping as well, and he realises the jitters have entirely taken over. He is nervous. Fucking Nervous. The only way out is to trace his eyes in the direction of Y/N, George knows a mere glance from her has the same effect than a cup of Chamomile tea.

To George's relief, the camera stops paying attention to him as soon as Sandra Bullock mentions the last contestant, "Timotheé Chalamet. Because of the Flowers."

George tightens the hold of his fingers around his girlfriend's palm, he knows what will happen once the cheers for Timotheé dry down, and he doesn't feel ready. Daisy and his parents are peering at him, he can't see them, he doesn't even know where they're seated. Still, George can feel their gazes over him, and he can tell they're smiling, proud of his achievement.

Greta Gerwig has turned around on her seat to take a look at George. She gives him a quick thumbs-up, and she and her husband, Noah, share a cheerful mien. George winks her way. The next category Greta is up to is Best Director, and George really wishes she goes home with two Academy Awards tonight. She already got an Oscar for Best Screenplay, and both George and Y/N hugged her tight, exultant.

Sandra finally pronounces the coming five little words:

"And the Oscar goes to..." A knowing grin curves her features when she practically screams, "George Mackay!"

The Dolby Theatre erupts in cheers, some attendants even rise from their seats to give George a standing ovation. Before he rushes on stage, he leans towards Y/N and kisses her. The kiss is quick, not enough for George. Although she's resumed the clapping and stares at with so much joy, and contentment around her irises, George kisses her again.

The touch of their fingertips linger, he grabs her hand and pulls her up with him, to hug her tight. In the mids of all, Y/N whispers, "I love you." And without halting her applauses, she beams, "You deserve this, London Boy."

George lingers on his foot, the look in their eyes speaking for them. Y/N points at him, all flushed, and tells him he's got chapstick on his cheek. George laughs and lets Y/N wipe it off. She has tears in her eyes, she's still clapping, and George really wishes he could kiss her ten times more. Scratch that, make that twenty.

George walks to the stage. The path is short, but he fist-bumps Greta and points at Dev Patel and Michael Fassbender before hurrying up the short stairs to where Sandra is, waiting to hand her the Oscar. A motherfucking Oscar.

George gives her a kiss on the cheek, a quick hug, and receives the statue with a broad, crooked smile on his face. Baffled, he stares at it. Never in a lifetime, George thought his hands would carry the weight of an Oscar. Actually, it isn't as heavy as he imagined, its weight is due to its meaning. George dreamed about it, many times —Which actor doesn't?—, but never ponder he genuinely stood a chance. Y/N talked him into attending Vanity Fair's after-party, after all, and George is unsure if it ended up being a good idea or not. He does feel like celebrating, no point in denying it, but George also feels like kissing her all over the face and taking off her dress.

George's carefully written and memorised speech dies on his throat when he stands before the microphone, "I-I... Oh my god. Uh..." He just won an Oscar. He is an Academy Award Winner. Holy shit. "My parents are here somewhere. I love you. My sister, Daisy, thank you for everything." His trail of words is interrupted by another wave of applause. He smiles, "I'm so appreciative to Greta, to anyone who's had a hand in getting me here. To The Academy. To the crew and cast of Dharma, I could never be here without you."

George holds the statue up, in the course of Y/N. Her flooded eyes are fixed on him, and she's biting her pink lips in an effort to hold her tears prisoner. "Y/N Y/L/N", he says, voice shaky at the end of her name. He falters a minute. His throat has run dry, his legs have turn shaky, his palms are sweating..."To me, it seems a miracle that you exist...touch you, be with you —so much, that I'm terrified of losing you." George is no fool, he can see Y/N is trying hard not to burst into tears. She has her lower lip tightly hidden below her teeth, her breathing has turned heavy and slow, and George knows he understands what he means. He was so afraid of losing her, that they spent months apart due to it. Tonight, he wants her to know that he won't be afraid anymore, that he trusts in them, in their love. George is confident they are endgame, that one day she will wear a bright diamond around her pretty little finger. No paper rings. "But hear me out, love, even if we lived in different worlds, I'll find a way to you," It is Dharma main plot, an everlasting love that finds each other every time. What better way to honour the film that gifted him an Oscar and the best thing in his life, than to use it as a metaphor. "I will always be James, you will always be Marina, and we will always be in love."

A/N: Hello, hello! This is the final version of the Epilogue. I’m so so so hyped you like this story. Never in a million dreams did I imagined this would have the response that it did. I’m truly pumped that you have had fun while reading this and like the characters so much. Hope you like this ending better than the last haha 😛😛 And stay tuned because next week I will present all of you ASHORE, the Bo Cash fic. 

[supremeuppityone]

Written for Klaroline Valentine's Day Bingo 2020 @kcvalentinesbingo

Prompt: Casablanca

Author’s note: This was inspired by Ricky Gervais’ 2020 Golden Globes monologue, in which he thoroughly pissed me off.

Warning: Potential triggers; implied assault survivor

Please review here.

           Red. Everything was red. The rage sank into Caroline’s bones until nothing was left. From the uncomfortable murmurs of the rest of the audience, it was clear that she wasn’t the only one furious with Alaric Saltzman’s patronizing speech to open the Oscars ceremony.

           “If you do win an award tonight, don’t use it as a political platform to make a political speech. You're in no position to lecture the public about anything, you know nothing about the real world. So, if you win, come up, accept your little award, thank your agent and your God and fuck off.”

           There were so many things wrong with the washed-up comedian’s vile statement, that Caroline let out an audible gasp, not bothering to let her features settle back into a polite mask. Her agent was going to be pissed if the cameras happened to catch her now. But it was nothing compared to how pissed Katherine would be in a little while. As a nominated filmmaker, Caroline understood she was in a unique position to make a call for social change. And as one of the few female filmmaker nominees, it was her responsibility. She covertly took out her phone, typing a quick message to her staff, and then leaned back into her seat with a self-satisfied grin. Game on.  

           Her documentary focused on Congolese women who were taking back their communities torn apart by sexual violence. It was her honor to give voice to the warrior women who had created safe spaces for women — teaching them self-defense, providing legal representation, and fostering marketable skills.

           She toyed with the orange and red bracelet, hiding a bittersweet smile as she recalled the way some of the women at the community center had attempted to teach her how to make the rolled-up paper beads. It was the day she shared her story with them. Her pain had been her own for so long. She’d nearly punched Katherine for telling her the bracelet clashed with her designer gown and that she should instead go with the loan from Bulgari.

           The back of Caroline’s neck prickled as though she could feel the weight of someone’s stare. Casually glancing around the packed theater, her blue eyes widened when she realized Klaus Mikaelson was staring at her. Wildly famous, the dimpled British actor’s mantle must be overflowing with prestigious Oscars, BAFTAs and Golden Globes. Why was he staring at her? Again. Despite years in the industry, this was the first awards season her work had garnered enough attention to warrant nominations. And unwanted attention from A-listers.

            A few months ago, she’d attended the Directors Guild Awards, slightly starstruck and still in disbelief that her work was finally getting recognition. She nervously was sipping champagne when someone insistently tapped her shoulder. Familiar with many of the more heinous Hollywood Gropers, she whirled around, ready to shred some wrinkled, self-entitled balls. She stopped short when she realized it was a skinny teenager who somehow managed to look even more nervous than she.

           “Um. Hi! So, um I think you’re Caroline Forbes. Right?”

           Caroline softened, assuming his painfully earnest demeanor meant he was an intern or one of the stage assistants. Her smile was gentle as she said, “Yes, I’m Caroline. What’s your name?”

           Brown eyes went round with excitement as he took both of her hands in his, wildly shaking them up and down as he gushed, “I’m Henrik and I go to USC and we just studied you in my Defining the Feminine Narrative class!”

           Flustered, she could feel an enormous smile spread across her face. It was rare that she encountered someone who knew who she was. Now what? Offering to sign something or pose for a photo sounded unbelievably pretentious. “Oh, wow. Thank you,” she finally said, “I had no idea.”

           “I’m actually um, doing a research paper right now on your documentary about dowry-related violence in India,” he shyly confessed, hiding behind his long brown hair.

           “Seriously?! I just started cataloguing some additional footage; trying to decide if there’s another story to tell. If you want to give me your email, I’d be happy to share my research with you. Maybe it will inspire you to create something amazing.”

           Before Henrik could respond, an unexpected voice interrupted, “Impressive chat-up lines, little brother.”

           Klaus stood there with his sexy dimpled grin that always spelled box office gold. And he’d been poured into that tuxedo. Damn. “Klaus Mikaelson,” he said, as though she hadn’t watched every movie he ever made, “and I had no idea Henrik was such a fan.” He put a companionable arm around the timid boy, telling her, “Henrik’s the true talent in the family. Thank you, love, for noticing.”

           He eyed her with interest, and she immediately reddened, cursing her painfully white skin for making every emotion so obvious. “These ceremonies are so frightfully dull. Would you like to join us at our table, and then perhaps later, you and I could go for a drink?”

           Damn it. He was one of those guys. Now flushed with irritation rather than embarrassment, Caroline replied, “You should ask Tatia. It’s only polite — since she’s your date.” Lately, the gossip sites had exploded with headlines gushing about the whirlwind romance between Klaus and the stunning supermodel, Tatia Petrova. Even if there was the chance it was a clever ruse to garner media attention, there was no way Caroline wanted any part of that nonsense.

           Klaus flashed that dimpled smirk again, his accented voice amused as he said, “Tatia is more of an...inconvenience than a permanent fixture in my life. There’s only so much frivolous chatter I can tolerate. But I suspect that you would provide endlessly fascinating conversation, sweetheart. You’re starting to make a name for yourself with all those exotic travels and penchant for saving the world. There’s a light that shines in you; it sets you apart from the rest.”

           He was seriously giving her the ‘you’re not like other girls’ speech. Dick. “Pass,” she said flatly, already starting to walk away. “But thanks for adding bad pickup lines to my ever-growing list of atrocities I need to save the world from.”

            Thunderous applause interrupted her thoughts, bringing her back to the present. Where Klaus was still staring at her rather than paying attention to the clip they were showing from his nominated performance. His performance in the Casablanca remake had earned him the Best Actor nomination, with critics and media outlets proclaiming his work in the big budget production to be a crowning achievement in his stellar career. Despite her indifference to the original 1940s movie, she still eagerly went to see Klaus’ remake, and his performance as the expat Rick had left her breathless. His American accent had been impeccable, and she actually got a bit teary-eyed when he arranged for his onscreen love interest, Lisa, to board the plane to safety while he stayed behind.

           Caroline could feel the heat rising in her cheeks the longer Klaus stared at her, irritated at herself for paying far too much attention to the gossip sites that announced Klaus’ amicable split almost immediately following their disastrous first encounter. She did not have time for Hollywood fuckboys. Even the ones with dimples. She had a world to save. Lost in her thoughts of burying her stupid crush on Klaus, she completely missed that he’d apparently won and was being herded offstage.

           She leaned forward eagerly as her documentary category was called. Regardless of the winner, her documentary had garnered enough attention that a few months ago, she’d learned an anonymous donation singlehandedly funded the Congolese women’s charity for the next decade. It was rare that people surprised her. Maybe one day she’d learn the identity of the generous donor. While the vignettes played for each nominee, her heart giving a funny little tweak as she held her breath in anticipation.

           “And the winner for best documentary feature is...Conflicted Hearts: Congolese Women Fight Back, by Caroline Forbes!”

           The thunderous applause was deafening, and Caroline sat there in shock for several moments, unable to get her legs to move. When she finally managed to walk to the stage on shaky legs, she fervently hoped she hadn’t sweated through her Arcadius original. She cringed as Alaric grabbed her hand, pulling her toward him for a congratulatory kiss that she managed to avoid by jerking her head away. He should know better. Hazel eyes flashed as he angrily hissed, “Just smile for the camera and keep the whole ‘boohoo women bitching about a little flirting’ bullshit out of it. No one cares about your whiny politics.”

           She burned him with her gaze, the oranges and reds of her gown a perfect backdrop for her fiery rage. Not bothering to respond to his unspoken threat, she stepped to the podium, pleased to be bathed in the stage lights, drawing energy from their warmth. “I’ve now been told twice tonight not to get political. It’s stupid to think I’m going to start following orders now. We’re some of the most fortunate people in the world. We have an extraordinary platform that allows us to reach millions. And it’s our responsibility to use it. We live in this world too and we should be working just as hard as anyone to make it better.”

           The loud clapping sounded like vindication, and she hoped that the cameras were zooming in on Alaric’s face as it immediately purpled in anger. “My film is dedicated to the Congolese women who let me into their world, whose unparalleled strength gave me the courage to put into words my own trauma. They are warriors, and I hope that the anonymous donor who helped fund their women’s charity for the next decade understands the hope they’ve given to so many.”

           Her smile was a vicious blade as she announced, “Thriving in front of my bullies is sometimes the whole reason why I get out of bed. I just started a charity tonight because I know I can’t be the only woman who’s been told to keep ‘boohoo women bitching about a little flirting bullshit out of it’. My organization will help women speak out about sexual harassment and assault in the workplace, providing much-needed legal assistance and support to help them overcome the personal and professional consequences that make it difficult to speak out. It’s called ‘CARE’.”

           The standing ovation was immensely satisfying, but then she added, “And it stands for Condescending Asshats Refuse to Evolve’,” which had the theater shouting her name excitedly. Not a bad night.

           As Caroline was ushered backstage, she basked as so many warm smiles and enthusiastic handshakes congratulated her, pausing only once to catch Alaric’s furious expression. She held his gaze just as fiercely, pouring out every viscous word she wasn’t ready to speak. But one day she would be.

           Backstage, she nearly ran over Klaus. Flushed from his own win, he beamed at her while offering her a steadying hand. “Congratulations, love. Your win was well-deserved, and I don’t recall a more compelling speech. You’ve set a precedent tonight that undoubtedly will bring about much-needed change.”

           She blushed to the roots of her hair, wishing she hadn’t worn the intricately plaited hairstyle so she could give her hands something to do. “Uh, thanks, and you too. Your work in Casablanca was amazing.”

           “You saw my movie?”

           Caroline was taken aback by his hopeful, pleased tone. “I’ve seen all of your movies. Everyone has.”

           “I’ve seen yours too,” he confessed, ducking his head shyly. “Henrik is quite the fan and has all of your documentaries — even the one you created fresh out of film school where you exposed the hypocrisy of a ‘morality clause’ for beauty pageant contestants in your hometown.”  

           “Seriously?!” She gaped at him, unsure of what to say. She hadn’t thought about that in years. That documentary had gotten the attention of several groups, which eventually led to funding for bigger projects and more exposure to the causes that she was the most passionate about. “I had no idea that you’d...I mean, I’m flattered you took the time to watch my films.”  

           The tips of his ears reddened as Klaus replied, “Meeting you was a bit of a revelation for me. Your drive, your fearlessness at giving people a platform so their voices and stories can be told — it’s inspiring. It made me want to make some changes in my life, which I started doing several months ago.”

           “I had no idea. I’m, uh, glad to have helped. Can I ask about the changes?”

           “Maybe someday I’ll tell you,” he answered enigmatically. “In the meantime, I’d be honored if you would accept my donation to your CARE charity. I’m doing my best to be a reformed condescending asshat.”  

[apinkwhisperscollector]

You are the Veronica to my Deaky.

A / N: Hi, I wrote something. This is the first time I write something and let people read it. And it's also the first time I write something in English. Anyway ... Joe's dancing video gave me an idea. A special thanks to @cool--cats  and @sohoneyspreadyourwings that encouraged me to write. And thanks again @sohoneyspreadyourwings, you read and corrected the English of this humble one shot.

Ps: The writing is really bad, but I'm proud of myself.

Summary: It's your wedding day.

"Y/N, I wanted to know if-Wow." said Ben coming through the door.

"You wanted to know what?" You said looking at him. "Has anything happened? Is Joe all right?"

"With all my respect, but .... Wow you are ... Wow." Ben kept repeating ‘Wow’ and you couldn’t help but smile.

You were happy and extremely nervous. After all, it's not every day you get married. It's especially not every day that you marry Joe Mazzello.

"Ben, why are you talking out loud like that? Speak lower ... Oh, okay ... Wow." said Gwil.

"Thanks." You said feeling your cheeks turn red. If your future husband's two best friends were left speechless, you could not wait to see Joe's reaction.

"But you wanted to know what Ben? And taking advantage of the fact that you’re here, can you please close my necklace?" you said turning away from the man.

"They asked us to tell you that in 10 minutes someone will pick you up to take you to the church." said Ben, closing the necklace. "Ready."

"Y/N, you look beautiful. He's going to cry so much when he sees you." Gwil said with tears starting to come out of his eyes.

"Gwilym Lee, are you crying?" You and Ben said at the same time.

"Maybe." Gwil wiped away tears that were falling with a handkerchief.  "He is getting married. He is going to marry the love of his life. They’ve just gone through so much. He lost his father. Months later, you lost your father and your mother." The tears were still falling from Gwil’s eyes, Ben were red as he tried not to cry. You were trying very hard not to cry too, Gwil’s beautiful words made your heart fill with joy.

"Oh my God, it's your wedding and you're going to go into the church by yourself," Ben said with tears prickling his eyes.

'I said I'd rather walk alone. Well, I'm really not going to be alone.” You opened the little pendant in your necklace, and there were two small pictures of your father and your mother. Gwil and Ben had become a blubbering mess at that. "They’ll be with me the whole time."

“Gwil and Ben, it's time to go." Rami came into the room you were in to take the boys away. "Y/N, you're ... He's going to cry so much when he sees you." said Rami with a small smile on his lips. "Boys, come on. Now."

Ben and Gwil followed Rami and you were alone again. The small story of how Joe and you came in there invaded his thoughts. You went from two people who hated each other to friends and then became best friends, and now you would be husband and wife.

You had met on the set of GI Joe: Retaliation and for some reason you hated each other. But somehow, over the years, you had became friends. You both had become such good friends that when he finished directing Undrafted, you were the first person he called. When you got your first Emmy nomination, he was there. When his girlfriend betrayed him, it was on your shoulder that he cried on. When you won the BAFTA, he was the first person you called. It had all lead to this, you were about to marry your best friend. The one who only continued to be there for you whenever you needed him most.Your story was nothing more than a romantic movie cliché, but it was your cliché and you loved it.

"Miss, Y/N the car is ready and waiting," said the planner who helped organize the wedding.

"Thanks." you said following the woman. "Is everything going well?"

"It's all going wonderfully well. Don’t worry about anything." the woman helped you into the car, arranging the dress perfectly. The car started moving and that was it. You were getting closer and closer to becoming a Mazzello.

In less than ten minutes, you were already at the church door ready to enter.

The church doors opened and the wedding march began, signaling to Joe and the guests that you had arrived.

With your first step, Joe's gaze met yours gaze and at the same time you two started to cry. "Oh my god ... Oh my god …” Gwil, Ben, Rami look from Joe to you. Oh my god, I'm going to faint Gwil, I'm going to faint." Joe was talking so loudly that everyone started laughing. "Oh my god".

With each step you were got closer. With each step you missed your parents more. They should be there. Joe's father should be there. A fucking drunk driver took your parents from you and the fucking cancer took Joe's father. At every step you knew that wherever they are, they are looking at you both. Joe kept yelling “Oh my god” that echoed through the church. You were getting closer. You had finally reached Joe. You were facing him and there was no one to hand you over to him. Suddenly, you felt a hand on your shoulder. It was his friend who was more of a brother - John. "Someone has to give you to him." John said, holding your hand.

"Thanks."

"Mazzello, if you break her heart , I'll hunt you to the end of the world. I'll find you and make you suffer." John tried to make his voice as threatening as possible. He failed, because everyone started laughing again.

The ceremony began, and everyone cried all the time. The priest spoke about love, respect and family. He emphasized that a marriage meant the joining of two families. You had lost your blood family, but you were getting a new one. "The rings, please." said the priest. Lucy gave you what would be Joe's ring. "Ben, the ring." said Joe. "The ring, yes, of course." Ben began to look in every pocket of his suit. His face was red from crying, but his eyes were filled with despair. "Gwil, I can’t find the ring." "Here." Rami took the ring out of his pocket and handed it to Joe. "Where..." "You dropped it in the car." said Rami, returning to his place. "You dropped the ring? Wow Ben, Cardboard  Ben would never do that to me." the guests laughed. The priest looked confused.

"Anyway ..." said the priest. "Joe, your vows please."

"Y/N, it was a cold afternoon on set in New Orleans when I first saw you. I was tired, you were, as always, very nice to me and I was rude. Honey, I'm sorry.I decided to hate you and be very childish to try to turn your life into a living hell. Again, I'm sorry. I was rude and childish because I liked you as soon as I saw you. But because I had a girlfriend then, it was easier to pretend to hate you and make you hate me. It was the way I could find it that didn’t have me falling in love with you."

Tears streamed from her eyes, Joe’s eyes, and from everyone's eyes-even from the priest.

"But people grow up, change, and I don’t remember how we stopped hating each other and became friends, but we did and I’m grateful for it everyday. When I look back, since ... 2011 or 2012, you're always by my side. With you I went to events, I traveled, I ate weird foods. Seriously, she made me eat a snake soup ... Anyway, in 2017 we were best friends who turned became something more. We spent the biggest adventures with these guys here” Joe said pointing at Lucy, Ben, Gwil , and Rami.

"Until last year we had the best and worst years of our lives. They are not physically here today, but I know they are somewhere watching us right now." Tears began to come out uncontrollably. Mentally, you thanked those who created waterproof makeup.

"You are my moon, my stars, my earth, and all my entire  universe. You are the coffee to my milk, you are the sun to my morning, you are the Veronica to my Deaky. You are literally my everything and I still can't believe you're here marrying me.”

"Wow, that was beautiful." said Gwil, wiping the tears from his face. Internally, you wondered if there were still tears coming out of Gwil and Ben. They were crying early, if they continue that way they will have dehydration. "I really was not expecting it. It was really beautiful. "Y/N, seu votos por favor."

"Well, I don't have the slightest idea how I'm going to get over those beautiful words you said. I just don't know what to say." you took a deep breath trying to form sentences that would make sense. "I lost my family months ago and today I am gaining another." Well, in fact, I always had two families, your family has always been my family.As you said, you have always been by my side and I have always been to your . " Tears began to fall from your eyes. "And so it will be forever.I love you so much Joe, I love you more than words can explain."

"Joseph Francis Mazzello III, do you accept Y/N as your wife?"

"I do." Joe had the most beautiful smile in the world, but at that moment his smile was bigger and more radiant than ever.

"Y/N, do you accept Joseph Francis Mazzello as your husband?"

"I do.I do.I do." You said it several times. That's it, you're a Mazzello now.

"So then, I now pronounce you husband and wife." I said the priest and the whole church cheered. "Joe, you may kiss the bride."

********

"Seriously?" You asked as soon as you arrived at the location for the photos.

"What?' Joe pretended not to know what you were talking about.

"Joseph Francis Mazzello III, why is our dog dressed as a dinosaur and why is there a Ben’s cardboard cutout there?" You took a deep breath trying not to freak out.

"Wait, did you have a new CARDBOARD?" "That's a new cardboard Ben, don’t try to fool me. Oh my god , Joseph, we're not taking this to the honeymoon!"

"Y/N, it's going to be funny.You do not want to look at the photos and laugh? One day, in thirty years or so, show these pictures to our grandchildren or maybe even great-grandchildren"

"Yes, Joe, but explain to me where Cardboard comes in? Ben really is right there," you pointed at Ben, who was turning a glass of champagne all at once. He cried the whole ceremony and was drinking very fast now. You were starting to get worried, you guys had not actually come to the party and both Ben and Gwilym looked drunk.

"Ginnie, please help me. Tell your son that I don't want the cardboard in my pictures or my dog dressed as a dinosaur." You said trying to find comfort in your mother-in-law.

"Oh dear, he's yours now, and Joe's right, it's going to be funny." said your mother-in-law, taking a glass of champagne. Ok, problems with an open bar wedding, the party had barely started and it looks like everyone was getting drunk pretty quick.

"We need to take the photos soon so we can continue with the schedule of the party." said one of the organization's girls.

"Oh, okay, let's take those pictures." And the photos were getting better than you imagined. Joe was right, he was being funny. Bride and groom photo, bridesmaids photo, Joe's photo (and several videos) screaming and running from the dog while you were laughing. None of it looked like serious wedding photos, it was more to a lot of friends together taking pictures to post on instagram.

"Are you all right, Mrs. Mazzello?" Joe said though you did not listen. You were amazed at how beautiful everything was, all the decor, everything was absolutely like you always dreamed. "Y/N, I'm talking to you."

"What? Sorry."

"I asked if you were well ... Mrs. Mazzello." Joe looked straight into your eyes and you can not help but smile when you heard Ms. Mazzello.

"Mazzello, I'm someone's wife now. That's ..."

"Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome The Mazzellos." the voice on the microphone announced your entry. the voice on the microphone announced your entry into the ballroom.

As soon as you entered the hall, John Legend's All of me began to play for the first dance of voices.

It was his favorite song, but suddenly Joe stopped dancing with you and stared at you.

"Joe, dear what are you doing?" and even before he could answer a song you did not know began to play.

Joe started dancing in a very stupid way and even though you had no idea why he was dancing like that, you smiled. You smile because it's with this idiot that you're going to spend the rest of your life.

[anthonysstupiddailyblog]

Anthony’s Stupid Daily Blog (26): Thu 7th Apr 2022

Today was dull as shit, I was stuck in the house and felt really tired due to fucking covid. I wanted to do something at least slightly productive so I made a list of what I consider to be the best storylines Hollyoaks have ever done. I've been watching the show since 2005 and though it's quite boring most of the time (especially now), throughout it's history it has done some amazing storylines and here are some of the best ones: Without a doubt the best storyline the show has ever done is Lynsey vs Silas and it's not even close. Silas arrived in the village and started murdering promiscuous women. Nurse Lynsey Nolan realized he was the killer but knowing that she had no proof rather than kill her Silas decided to carry on his spree taunting Lynsey and playing the vulnerable old man whenever she would accuse him of being the killer. This was incredible. The goal of any soap is to try and get the viewers to empathize with a character and not only did I empathize with Lynsey and cheer her on to get the rest of the village to realize Silas was the killer I used to rush home from work to watch the next episode. Man it was so good. What I wouldn't give for the show to be this good again The 2nd best story they've done is the Craig & John Paul love story. I remember watching the episode where they met & for months they slowly developed their friendship and at one point they both had girlfriends but every now and again they would drop hints that something wasn't right with John Paul and Hannah's relationship. Then they would start dropping little hints that JP was attracted to Craig. The episode where JP confessed that he loved Craig is still one of the most beautiful moments in the show ever. Becca & Justin’s affair. This spanned multiple years & included subplots involving knife crime, pregnancy & betrayal. It also had an almost Shakespearean level tragic ending with Becca’s death in prison & Justin being partially responsible. This storyline won a Soap Award but it boggles my mind how neither of the actors, any of the writers and the show itself weren’t nominated for a BAFTA on the strength of this plot. It was so damn good Hannah’s Anorexia. At the time I was young & naive & didn’t know the real effects of anorexia. In fact I remember it being a topic of humour (Epic Movie making a Nicole Richie stick figure joke). This story changed all that though. Hannah was so hurt at her boyfriend announcing he was gay that she convinced herself that she was the one who turned him gay due to not putting more effort into her looks. She then met an anorexic who showed her how to lose weight quickly and what followed was Hannah and her friend starting to eat less and less until the latter died of starvation. Sienna vs Nancy. The 2nd best “Vs” story after Lindsey vs Silas. A year of Sienna using mind games to make Nancy think she was going crazy to steal Darren. Every time we thought Nancy had finally bested Sienna she pulled out another scheme that made Nancy look like the crazy one. We also got to see both ladies dressed as Lara Croft which I think should have gotten the show nominated for a BAFTA right then and there

Finn Rapes John Paul. Rape storylines happen all the time in soaps but Hollyoaks occasionally puts an interesting spin on things and this time they took the unusual route of having a minor rape an adult. Very creepy but still compelling TV. And the less said about their ridiculous attempt to do a redemption storyline for Finn a few years ago the better. Trying to get us to feel sorry for a rapist, what the hell were they thinking? Fire At The Dog.The first major stunt I saw in the show. Any time you do a big stunt based storyline you create numerous stories off the back of it and this led to Justin’s downward spiral, OB vs Clare, Calvin forgiving Jake among others Patrick & Maxine domestic abuse. The first story that genuinely made me want to reach into the TV and try to help a character. Seeing a character as happy as Maxine reduced to a shell of her former self was heartbreaking. I also hope that it encouraged a lot of victims to speak out and seek help Myra's long- lost song Zippy McQueen returns. The son Myra abandoned on a church step (Who was inexplicably black and ginger despite not having black or ginger parents) returns and plots to bring down the McQueen family from within.

Well boy do I feel like a jackass guys. I think I might have gotten this storyline mixed up with one from the sitcom Gimme Gimme Gimme.

[bisluthq]

Hey so I’m late but saw Tom and Zawe are confirmed engaged now and that made me happy for them. She did a chaotic interview before their play Betrayal about how her next goal is having kids but she doesn’t have a man but maybe she’ll find one or do it alone - something like that, and tbh I appreciated her honesty about that. I’d love to be a fly on the wall because you just know those two both bounce from wild topic to topic but make it coherent lmao. (I’m not mocking them either btw, I genuinely love people like that because that’s how my mind works lol)

Anyway I really wanted to talk about Zane’s style because I went through your Nat talks zawe and other people have sparked pregnancy rumours about her before based on her outfit choices and it’s something that really annoys me for a tonne of reasons. But one reason that I just wanted to chime in was like I have endo and ibs which means sometimes I bloat like crazy, so when I’m buying a dress to wear for an event (and most of my clothes tbh) I make sure it’s bloat friendly cause I don’t want to turn up to a friends wedding looking like I’m announcing a pregnancy 🙃 and with my health it’s pretty unlikely I’d be able to conceive and carry a baby to full term. So I just get upset when people make assumptions about pregnancy because she’s wearing a loose dress. We’ve seen her in tight clothes and loose clothes. I’m not saying she picks the loose clothes in case she’s like me and bloats like all hell either. But I actually like her style. It’s kind of whacky but it’s fun and different to a lot of what other people wear on red carpets and like that gold Isa Arfen dress and white pants conbo is one of the ugliest things I’ve seen, I think if I was hot and rich and had designers wanting to dress me, I’d want to wear weird shit too at least some of the time haha. She could live in slinky dresses if she wanted to and make best dressed each time, but she’s like fuck it I wanna wear this curtain and table cloth dress and jacket and next week I’m wearing something that’s stunning from the top and confusing from the bottom. She just seems so cool to me.

Off topic but felt like sharing ☺️ haha

Though I have to admit I have thought about the headlines of next years BAFTAs with CWF & Hiddles’ Apple+ series possibly landing them each nominations in acting fields and how if they are it would be a tabloids wet dream, especially if one of the couples are engaged and the other recently married or if we don’t know if swiftwyn are engaged or married - tabloids would love that. And can you imagine if she releases Rep TV around the same time? I 100% don’t want to manifest drama but can’t stop my mind from foreseeing it after being in this fandom for so long.

I think these are great thoughts and I love Zawe lol!

[zendyval]

Z probably worked for two or three days shooting a super bowl ad (the most expensive ads every year in the states) and probably got paid very well for a minimal amount of work. And I get people want her in more stuff but she has had very few covers this year compared to years past so?? Also, who knows what she has lined up. The other thing we need to discuss is how zendaya hasnt really had a miss. After Disney she did spiderman which is a huge success, she did TGS which took off and the soundtrack broke some insane records, she did euphoria her first show not Disney and she won a fucking Emmy and most critics say episode 5 (the one upcoming) will put her right back in conversations and might get her a second one. M&M was controversial but they filmed for 1 M and got 30 M out of it and she got nominated for critics choice and shortlisted (15 people were picked) for a BAFTA in her first lead role. She is in dune a small role for the first but bigger down the road (like spiderman) and it just got 11 bafta noms and is headed towards an Oscar best pic nom. I get people want her in more but to those acting like they know what it is best for her she clearly knows what she is doing.

Z is likely figuring out as she is going so Im sure in hindsight she looks at decisions and maybe regrets things, who knows. I know there is a lot to be said in terms of the size of her roles in her early movies and hence her not being the main star, but nobody can argue the box office and/or cultural success of the things she's managed to take part in. Showman to me is the biggest underdog story of a movie with not great reviews that completely just blew up and became a whole pop culture phenomenon. And most of the things that we know she was in talks for but didn't get, mostly flopped.

[fussingoverfassbender]

Blasting along at 160 m.p.h. in the passenger seat of a $250,000 Ferrari 488, with Michael Fassbender behind the wheel, I think of something he said before we got in the car. We were chatting in an air-conditioned trailer on the infield of the racetrack we’re lapping, the Circuit of the Americas, in Austin, Texas, and I asked Michael how he was feeling, given that he was about to take my life in his hands.

“I’m fine with it,” he said, smiling. He’s often smiling. “I hope you’re O.K. with it.”

Turns out, I am. In part because I think Michael Fassbender could convince me—probably most people—to do almost anything. Charming and contemplative and exceedingly handsome, with the piercing Follow Me eyes of a cult leader, Fassbender exudes focus without seeming at all cocky.

Perhaps more important, I know that Fassbender has been training for the past year to compete in the Ferrari Challenge series, a competitive global racing program for committed Ferrari owners. Each Challenge driver must acquire a race car—the $330,000 488 Challenge is Fassbender’s choice, a more potent and lighter version of the road car in which we did our laps. They must join a private racing team and commission a coach and a mechanic. Then they must work tirelessly on their skills, training at a certified Ferrari driving school, practicing on the track and on ultra-advanced computer simulators, and constantly rehashing telemetry data—precise measurements of speed, braking, acceleration, and turning—to try to improve their time and position in each of the half-dozen races that make up the annual schedule.

“He’s very competitive,” Fassbender’s coach, Martin Roy of Scuderia Corsa, tells me in the paddock. “He wants to perform.” In one of the four races he’s completed so far this season, Fassbender placed fourth, an achievement given that this is his first year in the program. And that, despite a lifelong love of speed and racing, for 20 years before this, he didn’t even own a car, getting around London on a motorcycle.

I can feel Fassbender’s subtle perfectionism as we rip through the Austin track’s 20 turns. As he rifles off gearshifts, saws the steering wheel, mashes the pedals, he calls out every little error. “Missed that apex.” “Brakes are cooking.” “Slidey, slidey.” “Don’t want to hit those.” He admits that he talks to himself when he’s in the car alone as well, especially when he screws up. What does the Academy Award-, Golden Globe-, and BAFTA-nominated actor say to himself in the privacy of his race car? “You fucking idiot.”

In the heat of the race, with dozens of cars speeding around in tight proximity and at triple-digit speeds, you don’t get another take. Before his first Ferrari Challenge event some weeks back, Fassbender confesses that, “I was so nervous, I thought I was close to throwing up.” (He now eats at least two hours before getting in the car, a practice I should have followed.) In a subsequent race, he braked too hard going into a turn, ran off the track, hit a patch of wet grass, and spun out wildly, stopping only when he bumped against the wall of tires that protectively banks the track. And in the race after that, he had his first contact with another car, “just a tiny kiss.” There was no damage, but it shook him. (After I left him in Austin, Fassbender had a mishap in a race, lost control of his car, and crashed into a wall. He was unharmed and eager to continue in the series.)

Fassbender tells me that his interest in racing derives equally from its requisite focus, its iterative technical precision, and its exhilaration. “The speed has always been something that has attracted me,” he says. “But I’ve always, sort of, gotten a kick out of trying to become one with the machine—I’m so far away from that, but that’s the goal. To sort of have that symmetry between you and the car.” He says that it happens on occasion, “Little moments here and there.”

I get to witness some of these moments as we pass through the snaking series of turns in the final sequence of the loop, just before we return to the big opening straight. “This is my favorite section,” Fassbender says, eyes ahead around the next bend, elbows flashing up and down in his bright red Ferrari race suit. “I like the S’s,” he says, serene delight visible through the open visor of his racing helmet. “Just . . . the flow.”

Fassbender is plotting ways to integrate racing even further into his life. “I’m working on something at the moment with my production company [DMC Films],” he says. He’s not ready to provide details, but he adds, “It’s always been front of my mind to do something about racing, and to bring it to either the big or small screen. To do a series.”

After years of not owning a car, Fassbender is now the proud owner of his own Ferrari, an F12tdf, the $485,000, up-powered, limited-edition version of the brand’s ultimate V-12-powered sports car. He broke in the car with a nearly 1,500-mile voyage across Europe, to his new home in Portugal, a trip he took with his girlfriend, Oscar-winning actress Alicia Vikander.

“I picked it up [at the Ferrari factory] in Maranello, and we drove it to Lisbon,” he says. “It was a little nerve-wracking in some of the narrower streets in France and Spain, and parking in underground car parks. There were definitely some sweaty moments. But it was great.”

Vikander was there on the track in Austin to support Fassbender, and has attended some of the races in which he’s competed. “She understands that it makes me really happy,” he says. She even consented to take a “hot lap,” a full-throttle drive, with the Challenge series’ head coach, championship racer Didier Theys.

“She loved it,” Fassbender says. “I think racing is something that she’d really get into, actually. Though I hope not, because she’ll probably end up being faster than me.” He smiles broadly. “She doesn’t have a driver’s license, though. So I’ve got a head start on her. But she’s a quick learner.”

[hegodamask]

Utopia, of course!

thank you thank you omg here goes…

Top 5 favourite characters:

Wilson Wilson

Lee

Milner

Becky

Arby

More under the cut ‘cause it’s long (and also spoilers if anyone’s planning on watching it)

Other characters you like:

The Assistant, Jessica Hyde, Ian, Philip Carvel (only because he’s played by Ian McDiarmid tbh) and lots of little minor characters like Leah, Bridget the scientist and retro torturer Mr Omida

Least favourite characters:

Donaldson for what he did to Becky -_- 

Otps:

nothing to see here

nothing at all…

Notps:

not sure if this counts but the becky/ian/jessica love triangle is one of the few things i dislike about the show 

Favourite friendships:

becky and wilson aww

Favourite family:

the carvel family even though they’re fucked up!!

Favourite episodes:

S01E01 - the best first episode of a series i’ve ever seen, hooked me from the start and i’ve been obsessed ever since…

S01E06 - because of the twists!! also, lots of pretty shots of the manuscript

S02E01 - i fucken love backstrories and seeing younger versions of characters and utopia devoted a whole episode to that! Truly Iconic

S02E03 - for that leexwilson goodness 

Favourite season/book/movie:

unpopular opinion but i liked series 2 more than series 1. it had more about the network, dat flashback episode and executed wilson’s character arc brilliantly 

Favourite quotes:

“We’ll make a great team, you and me. I do stuff and you can keep an eye out.”

“I don’t think I am me…Not any more.”

“It will never happen again. And just thinking about it makes me want  a vagina transplant so I’m just fucking telling you, alright?!”

“You’re an I.T consultant, Ian. If I want to know how to make a printer work, I’ll let you know.”

“But what we must do puts us beyond morality.”

“Quinoa. It’s a superfood.”

Best musical moment:

this show is made up of best musical moments! but when to you all kids will come kicks in at the end of s02e01 i have a religious experience tbh

Moment that made you fangirl/boy the hardest:

every lee x wilson moment in series 2 do i have no shame

When it really disappointed you:

see: notps 

Saddest moment:

“you’re supposed to be my friends!” r.i.p in pieces: me

Most well done character death:

bejan getting pushed off the balcony in ~slow mo~

Favourite guest star:

emil hostina as marius the translator eat my fuCKING CHIP

Favourite cast member(s):

adeel akhtar, paul ready and alexandra roach oh! and alistair petrie because he tweeted me once out of the blue

Character you wish was still alive:

lee because i long to see my trash ship live it would’ve been interesting to see him working for the new mr rabbit….

One thing you hope really happens:

IT COMES BACK FOR A THIRD SERIES

Most shocking twist:

the reveal of mr rabbit at the end of series 1 got me shook

When did you start watching/reading?:

summer of 2014. i binge watched series 1 on 4od, then watched series 2 as it aired.

Best animal/creature:

mr rabbit….

Favourite location:

the network’s pyramid prison for jessica hyde it’s so extra. also lett’s office in the cordvat building with those wooden carvings all over the walls.

Trope you wish they would stop using:

is the love triangle a trope?

One thing this show/book/film does better than others:

it was bold, it took risks. every tv show i’ve watched since is pale in comparison.(that’s the short answer)

Funniest moments:

ian and becky try to have sex in s01e01

“yeah, suicide’s not gonna work”

“saw it on spooks”

Couple you would like to see:

grant and alice when they’re older but we’ll never get that now 

Actor/Actress you want to join the cast:

i would like all the actors from the first two series to form the cast for a third series pls

Favourite outfit:

lee’s Iconic yellow suit with the purple socks, black ‘n white shoes, geen tie and lime green bag need i say more

Favourite item:

arby’s yellow bag/lee’s green bag

Do you own anything related to this show/book/film?:

the dvds and that’s it. there’s no merch for this show that’s widely available. i’d love to own one of the limited soundtrack vinyls though 

What house/team/group/friendship group/family/race etc would you be in?:

i’d be shit at living on the run. i’d join the network for the Fashion

Most boring plotline:

i don’t think there were any tbh, and they were all connected

Most laughably bad moment:

none???

Best flashback/flashfoward if any:

the whole of s02e01

Most layered character:

wilson wilson definitely 

Most one dimensional character:

out of the main cast, i can’t think of any 

Scariest moment:

the first time i saw the torture scene in s01e01 i was watching it through my fingers

Grossest moment:

when jessica has just escaped from the hospital and she’s covered in medical waste and she blows something out of her nose eeeww

Best looking male:

lee ian

Best looking female:

becky ^_^

Who you’re crushing on (if any):

becky ;)

Favourite cast moment:

when adeel was nominated for a bafta for playing wilson wilson

Favourite transportation:

don’t know??

Most beautiful scene (scenery/shot wise):

there’s way too many to choose from! the stuff on the hills in s02e05 is particularly breathtaking though

Unanswered question/continuity issue/plot error that bugs you:

who was christos??? who was he?? why did he save carvel and jessica??? was he part of a larger group???? who. was. he.

Best promo:

all of utopia’s promo’s have been so good! the utopia inquiry website was pretty cool, i wish that was still online. thenetworkiswatching.com was cool but creepy as hell. the lost game was a nice little thing too.

At what point did you fall in love with this show/book:

literally right from the first episode, honestly i’ve never been so hooked by a tv show before it’s just sdjfshsgsdjkaah!

[misshollander1]

Shame

Can you do an imagine where Tom and the reader have been in a long relationship and they love each other a lot. But for months, Tom has been cheating on the reader with Ella Purnell and the reader finds out. Tom promises not to do it again. When it comes to the BAFTAs, the reader cant go and Tom and Ella end up having sex in a hotel room and the readers ends up finding them together, ending things with Tom?

Authors Note: I suggest listening to either “My Immortal” by Evanescence (for hard tears) OR “One Love” by Marianas Trench (for feels) whilst reading this for more of an effect. I decided to add on to this imagine (the ending) with something I was working on previously because it seemed like a good fit. Thank you to the anonymous person who requested this!💙

“What do you mean it’s nothing, Tom! How long has this been going on!” I raged, tears stinging my eyes. Tom’s normally kept hair was wild from him running his fingers through it constantly.

“Let me-”

“How. Long. Thomas.” I snarled through clenched teeth. He gulped and looked at me, worry in his eyes.

“Two months. ” he whispered.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.” I said, crossing my arms.

“Two months.” he said louder. I threw my hands up in the air and yelled.

“You’re such a dick Tom! After three years together and you’re already bored of me. I knew from the start you would leave me for someone higher than me.” I rambled on, grabbing my jacket and bag.

“Where are you going?” he asked, grabbing my wrist.

“Away from you.” I said, tears rolling down my cheeks. He pulled me into a hug and I struggled to get out but he held on, bringing me to the ground slowly. I cried, my hands balled into fists, resting on his chest. He soothed my hair and I heard him sniffle.

“I promise to never do it again. I-I can’t lose you. It was a one time thing, I swear. Everything after, was just friendship.” he whispered. I felt a tear of his, land on my cheek and I calmed down.

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

~Two months later~

“You sure you can’t go?” Tom asked, struggling to fix his bow tie. I chuckled and went over to fix it for me. I sniffled and made a face.

“I don’t think the red carpet would look great with someone sick on it.” I said, smiling. He smiled and kissed my cheek.

“I’ll see you home then.” he whispered in my ear. I nodded and let him go.

After an hour passed, my phone rang. I groaned from my place on the couch and reached over for it, setting my book down.

“Yeah Harrison?” I said, clearly sounding congested.

“Whoa there dragon. What’s wrong?” he teased.

“Har har. I’m sick you ass. What do you want?”

“Come surprise Tom! He’s nominated and Oh YES!” Harrison screamed in the phone. Tom and I didn’t have the channel the BAFTAs were on because well, Harrison dropped soda on the outlet so the television was done until we could fix it.

“TOM JUST WON. GET YOUR GROSS ASS OVER HERE NOW!” Harrison yelled before hanging up. Well then… Guess I am going after all.

After an hour of deciding what to wear, I settled on a nice pant suit, dreading the fact that it was my sisters pant suit that I packed. She was huge on showing cleavage. I put on some lip gloss and smacked my face a bit, trying to make it look less sick as I grabbed my purse and headed down to the ceremony.

“There she is! The after party started an hour ago!” Harrison whined.

“You could have gone Haz.” I said, taking his arm.

“I could have. But Tom was bombarded by photographers, I decided to wait for you.”

“Aww so sweet. Now where’s Tom?” I asked, excited to see his award.

“I don’t know but can you help me load some stuff into his hotel room?” Harrison asked.

“Hotel room?” I asked.

“Yeah. His parents are in town and he wanted to spend some time with them. They wanted to stay at your place but Tom said you were sick and they understood.” Harrison explained. I nodded as we walked to his car to pull out some wine and some CD’s. Harrison pulled out some confetti poppers and a camera.

“It’s going to freak Tom out once he sees you.” Harrison beamed. I giggled at his dorkiness.

“Why? He sees me everyday.”

“I know but you were sick and now you’re here.”

We got up to his floor to hear music pumping through all the doors.

“Seems like everyone is celebrating!” I shouted over the music. Harrison nodded and took out the room key. He opened the door and I dropped the wine bottle and CD’s, my mouth dropping. Harrison stopped in his tracks and dropped the poppers and camera.

There on the bed was Tom. And who else would be under him? Fucking Ella.

“What the fuck is this mate!?” Harrison yelled. Tom turned and looked like he saw a ghost. More like an ex, now.

“You better be fucking drunk or else. You know what? No what else. Get the fuck off of her.” Harrison instructed. Tom got up and covered himself with the blanket. Ella did the same. The tears came fast and Harrison wrapped an arm around me.

“He’s drunk Love. Look at his eyes.” Harrison whispered in my ear. I looked up and saw that they were glossy.

“Babe I-I can explain-” Tom said right before I marched up to him and slapped him. Ella looked taken back and I don’t know what came over me. I jumped on the bed and started pulling her hair, calling her names. She was screaming and tried fighting me off but I yanked and yanked. Harrison came over and took me away from my waist and Tom stood with his arms out, separating Ella and I. Tom was in boxers now, the little shit. He didn’t try to pull me off or anything.

“You promised? Some promise you fucker.” I spat, tearing off the necklace he gave me and hurling it at him. He caught it and was about to come to me when Harrison stopped him.

“No.” he said, standing in between Tom and I. Tom looked at Harrison and then back to me. I looked at him with tears gushing down my face.

“Babe I-”

“No. You don’t get to fix this one mate. You can’t. Not this time. Come on, let’s go.” Harrison said, turning me around from my shoulder and escorting me out with an arm around my waist.

“Harrison! Come back! It’s the alcohol’s doing!” Tom yelled after us. Harrison looked back and grabbed my hand, running towards the elevator. He pushed the button and I looked back to see Tom running down the hall in his boxers, stumbling to stay up due to the alcohol.

The doors closed on him as soon as he got to the doors and I sank to the floor crying. Harrison stopped the elevator and hugged me.

“Hey… You know it’s the alcohol, right?” He said, rubbing my shoulders.

“So? He promised.” I cried, sniffling as I felt the mucus coming. Harrison gave me his hanker chief and I wiped my nose on it. I rested my head on his shoulder and let the tears fall. His phone rang and I saw that it was Tom. I looked at him and he let it ring.

“I don’t want to be here right now.” I whispered, covering my face with my hands.

“Then let’s get out of here. Away from all this.” Harrison said, restarting the elevator.

“Where would we go?” I sniffled.

“We can go to the beach. I know that’s your happy place.” he smiled. I smiled and nodded. We got out to the parking lot and Tom called again.

“What do you want mate!” Harrison yelled into the phone as we got into my car. I started the engine and backed up, taking a left turn to head to the freeway.

“No. Leave her alone mate. I don’t care if she’s your girlfriend! You cheated on her.” Harrison yelled, ending the phone call.

“He’s called your phone like 8 times already.” Harrison said. I looked to the left to see if any cars were coming and then I drove onto the freeway.

“I have my phone on silent.” I said, signaling my blinker to go left.

Neither of us saw it coming. Then again, neither did the other two cars next to us. It came like a bright light as the semi barreled into the car on my left, dragging that car to us and then slamming us into the car on our right. I remember Harrison sticking his hand out in front of me like a mom protecting her child in a car accident and me hitting the steering wheel and tasting blood.

Everything seemed to go in slow motion. I turned to see Harrison looking at me with fear in his eyes as we continued on being moved. My eyes widened as I noticed we were coming close to the wall. Harrison turned to look and looked back at me. He was scared. I reached my hand out to him and he took it as reality stepped in, making everything up to speed again.

I opened my eyes to see bright lights passing me and hearing distorted voices.

“Ha-harrison. Wh-where’s Harrison?“I choked out. I tried to sit up but a lady held me down. She looked at me and I saw fear in her eyes as well.

“Harrison? Where is he. Is he okay?” I croaked.

“Patient is speaking but is loosing-” her voice seemed to trail off into an echo until I asked where Harrison was again.

“He’s fine. He’s not in critical condition.” she said as I began to loose vision.

“Patient is dropping!” a distant voice yelled as I began to see darkness.

[popculty]

The Good and The Very Bad That Was the 2017 Golden Globes

What an emotional mixed bag, ya’ll.

The highs were high, but the lows were the pits of Mordor.

Let’s start with the good:

Atlanta deservedly won Best Comedy/Musical Series, and Donald Glover won Best Comedy Actor. It was amazing to see this really clever show get recognized in its first season. Also this:

The nominees for Best Actress in a TV Comedy/Musical were all fierce and deserving - Gina Rodriguez, Issa Rae, Rachel Bloom, Tracee Ellis Ross, Sarah Jessica Parker, Julia-Louis Dreyfus - But I was more than pleased to see Ross win for Black-ish, becoming the first black woman to win that category since 1983.

And then my girl Viola Davis, after FIVE nominations, FINALLY won for her incredible performance in Fences. After listening to her life story, I can easily say she deserves this more than anyone else in Hollywood, and I wish her everything. Viola later gave the most heartfelt and moving introduction/tribute to Meryl Streep, who was (finally) being honored with the Cecile B. DeMille Award.

Meryl then proceeded to cement her legacy by dragging Trump on behalf of the disabled reporter he mocked, called on the press and us all to stay vigilant in this era of fear and misinformation, and ended with words from her friend, “the dearly departed Princess Leia”:

I’m crying. You’re crying. We’re all crying.

Moonlight took home the award for Best Drama, which it absolutely deserved, but that ended up feeling like a last-minute bone to appease the outrage of Twitter, after the film had endured snub after snub throughout the night, in favor of La La Bland Land. Which leads me to...

The Bad (which was very bad):

The HFPA seemed to have fallen into the same tiresome habit the Oscars so often do, of obsessing over one or two darlings and ignoring everything else. This year, they couldn’t get enough of La La Land, which is a perfectly fine musical throwback. But it’s also a straight, white love story (i.e. a thing which we have seen ad nauseam). If the HFPA really wanted to reward innovative storytelling, celebrate diverse voices, or take a political stand - all of which they so often proclaim to want to do when it serves them - then they would have voted for, say, the cinematically perfect film about a black gay man. I mean, La La Land even won Best Original Song for “City of Stars”, which, I’m not kidding, is literally only four lines of lyrics (two of which are “city of stars”) repeated over and over, to seven piano notes repeated over and over. Now, I’m no musicologist, but...um? They chose this, chose to give La La Land its umpteenth award of the night, rather than give one single, minor trophy to, for example, the excellent “How Far I’ll Go” from Moana (a movie about a girl of color), written by Lin-Manuel Miranda (a man of color). Alright then, damn. At least we have the BAFTAs.

The acceptance speeches from the La La Land team only added to my eye-rolling. Each speech - and there were SEVEN of them throughout the night - repeated the same sentiment: “Wow, we just can’t believe this little movie made it. Everyone thought we were crazy to make a musical!” Yes, in the age of Hamilton and Crazy Ex-Girlfriend, THANK GOD these brave souls risked their careers to single-handedly bring back The Musical. *sips tea*

Then there was the fresh white incompetence that was “Hidden Fences” - The ignorant (read: racist) portmanteau of Fences and Hidden Figures. Because apparently if we have more than one black film nominated at a time, it is just scientifically impossible to keep them straight. (Though, miraculously, no one had any problem keeping The Night Manager and The Night Of separate. *refills teacup* *sips tea*).

Tom Hiddleston won for one of The Nights, but to be honest my brain shut down and I switched to sipping whiskey when he began with a story about how he recently traveled to South Sudan to visit humanitarian workers.

Then came the death blow: Casey Affleck won best actor for Manchester by the Sea. I literally screamed “NOOOOOOOO!!!” when they called his name. First of all, he looks like an actual homeless person - long hair, scraggly beard harboring god knows what within...Because it’s for an upcoming role everyone is cool with it, but you can bet your ass if an actress showed up to the red carpet looking half as scruffy as he did, she would be shamed to within an inch of her career. (Shit, Evan Rachel Wood had to defend her decision to wear a suit instead of a dress to Ryan fucking Seacrest). But putting the double standard of Hollywood aside, let’s talk about the real problem here: Affleck has two sexual harassment/assault allegations against him. We watched earlier this year as Nate Parker’s past crimes tanked his film Birth of a Nation and his shot at an Oscar right along with it. How, then, does a white actor accused of similar crimes (and much more recently, too) not only get a pass from the media, but also a gold statue from Hollywood?

I guess the recent election should have taught me not to put my hope, however slim it may be, in white voters making the right decision.

*finishes bottle of whiskey*

*face-plants into bed*