#i'm like [points] non brit

[yesokayiknow]

it's so funny how the uk pretends to be fully metric and then whenever america's not looking we're like oh it's only a couple of miles away. can you pick me up a pint of milk and half a pound of bacon. i think he's six foot two? ugh i was so sick i'm pretty sure i lost like a whole stone. can't believe you need to drink like a whole gallon of water every day. how hot is it gonna be tomorrow? oh sorry can you tell me that in fahrenheit i don't know celsius

[keerysfreckles]

ok, so I saw your Newsies smau and I was thinking...

Reader plays Eurydice on Hadestown and a while back she broke up with her toxic ex. But then she meets one of the drivers (u can choose which one) at a show one day and yk they fall in love. Inspired by the song All I've Ever Known from Hadestown.

This is hyper specific and u can ignore this, I'm just rambling here

all i've ever known — LN4

pairing: lando norris x bway!reader

warnings: slight smut, allusions to smut, not proofread

a/n: sorry not sorry but ive never listened to the hadestown soundtrack SO going off the vibes of the show and what i know of it from tiktok 🤞🤞

masterlist !

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

for the past three months oscar has been begging lando to go to a broadway show with him. every time the brit is asked, he argues that lily should go with oscar. which he denies, explaining lily's hate towards musicals.

yes, maybe oscar was trying to set up one of his closest friends with his teammate. what could be so bad about him trying to be a good wing man?

after asking non stop during the weekend, lando finally agreed to fly to new york with oscar.

on the plane, oscar tried his best to explain the musical to lando. lando however only got more confused as oscar kept talking, so he opted to look it up on google instead.

"why are you so insistent with me going with you anyway? there's 18 other drivers to pick from," lando asks as he and oscar walk through the streets of new york, on their way to the theater. oscar kept looking down at his phone at google maps, displaying the directions to the address.

"first off, you're the closest friend i have on the grid. and second, there's someone i want you to meet."

lando chuckles, "so this was just to set me up?" oscar simply nods. "does my love life seem that depressing to you?"

oscar doesn't answer as they arrive at the theater, already having a large line queued. the mclaren drivers wait in line, signing things and taking pictures here and there as the line continues moving.

both men are handed a playbill at the entrance, to which lando immediately flips through as oscar leads them to their seats.

oscar points out to lando his friend, y/n, in the small booklet. her black and white picture is at the top of the second page, along with a male, who lando could only guess was the other lead in the show.

"your friend is the lead?" lando asks in shock.

oscar laughs, "yeah, she's actually going to school for musical theater at nyu."

lando whistles and looks through the cast again, now noticing a certain celebrity who's playing the male lead.

"jordan fisher?"

oscar only laughs again at his over enthusiastic friend. "you know, for someone who kept saying no, you seem pretty excited to be here."

before lando could come up with a proper comeback, the lights started dimming in the theater, hushing the crowd.

oscar kept stealing glances towards lando throughout the whole show. he couldn't help but smile as his face lit up as y/n first stepped out on stage.

lando looked like a kid in a candy store. his cheeks flushed and eyes wide, with a smile adorning his features.

at intermission lando immediately started praising y/n towards oscar, telling him how she was made for the stage.

"why don't you tell her that?"

lando only furrowed his eyebrows in response.

"at the end of the show people wait by the stage door to hopefully meet the cast. y/n promised she'd meet us out there."

the two continued talking. oscar answering any questions lando had about the show so far.

the second act of the show went the same as the first, lando being in awe of y/n and oscar smiling at his friend because of his actions.

intentional or not, oscar could tell lando already thought highly of y/n. now the australian could only hope they'd get along once they met.

as soon as the lights dimmed on stage, the audience roared in applause and cheers.

oscar and lando cheered louder when y/n stepped forward, there was no surprise there.

now the duo was waiting outside the theater, their arms wrapped around themselves to try and keep them warm in the chilly new york wind.

"you alright? you seem kind of nervous," oscar states, noticing lando swaying more then usual. a nervous habit he's picked up on over the past year or so.

lando simply shrugs. he was not about to share with oscar how he might've just fallen in love with girl on stage. he never believed in love at first sight before, but now his mind has been changed.

the stage doors opened, revealing y/n and her costar jordan fisher. both were eager to meet the fans who waited, and signed pictures and other items, as well as take pictures with the fans and answer any questions they had.

as y/n was finishing signing a picture for a fan, oscar called her over.

"oscar!" y/n giggled as she jogged towards him and lando.

oscar hugged and congratulated her, lando doing the same.

"so you're the famous lando he keeps talking about," y/n smiles up at him, taking in his features for the first time.

lando laughed before looking at oscar, "what on earth have you told her about me?"

"nothing bad don't worry," oscar pats his shoulder, as y/n simply chuckles.

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

three weeks have passed since y/n and lando met. they were lucky enough to get each other's phone numbers before departing on the night they met. the two haven't stopped talking since.

lando told y/n he'd be back in new york with his close friend max.

y/n couldn't help but grow excited at the news, counting down the few days until lando would be back in the states.

to add to the surprise of lando showing up, he was currently waiting outside the stage door, just like last time when he was here.

he made sure to keep the secret of being in the audience tonight, knowing how happy it would make y/n once she saw him there.

just like every other night, y/n was talking with the fans, simply going down the line taking pictures and signing items.

it was when she turned, "lando!" she laughed, finally noticing the brit standing off to the side.

she ran towards him, jumping against him to tackle him in a hug. he held his arms out, prepared for impact as he spun her around once.

"i thought you were getting here tomorrow," y/n holds onto his biceps as he sets her down, his hands never leaving her waist.

"i convinced my friend to leave a day early. mainly 'cause you had a show tonight."

"lan, that is so sweet," the nickname fell right off her tongue. lando couldn't help but feel his cheeks warm as she said it.

"only issue is he's still getting here tomorrow," lando frowns slightly, "he was busy filming a video for quadrant."

y/n nods in understanding, then an idea hits her. "well if you don't have a hotel already, you could stay at my apartment?"

lando chooses to ignore the feeling in his chest as she asked, simply nodding.

"great! my cars just parked in the garage behind the theater," y/n boldly grabs a hold of his hand, not that he'd complain for one second about it.

"sorry it's not as fancy as your many mclarens," y/n laughs as the two get in the small car.

"it suits you," lando smiles, sending a shiver down y/n's spine.

the continue continue talking on the way to y/n's apartment. the conversation flowing from lando's hobbies, to y/n's least favorite food, and to what they like to do on their free time.

"it might be a bit messy," y/n states as she unlocks the door.

lando looks around after stepping inside. the walls of the living room are decorated just as he imagined, colorful yet collected. everything went together.

"are you hungry? or just tired?" y/n asks.

"i'm insanely jet lagged, but was worth it staying up to see you perform again," he smiled, watching as a blush made it ways to y/n's cheeks.

"are you okay with the couch?"

lando nods, watching the girl get two blankets and a pillow from somewhere in a room down the hallway. lando guessed it was from her own room.

y/n now noticed lando was still wearing jeans, knowing their not the most comfortable item to sleep in.

after finding a pair of extra large sweatpants and a larger shirt for lando, the two exchanged goodnight. y/n closed her door as she heard the netflix app loading on her living room tv.

what both y/n and lando weren't aware of, is how they couldn't get the other out of their heads.

lando thought about how close he and y/n have gotten in the past month. he only wanted to know more about her.

y/n was in the same boat in her room, as she kept tossing and turning, messing up her sheets more and more. of course she would admit she likes lando, just never to his face.

she loved when he was around, and only wished he was around whenever the two were apart.

five minutes pass as y/n's done contemplating about the ordeal. 'now or never' she tells herself while getting out of her bed. she takes a deep breath before opening her bedroom door.

"lan?"

lando was stood in front of her, equally as startled. she notices his hand raised slightly, she could only guess he was going to knock on her door.

lando's gaze flickers between y/n's eyes, before silently pulling her face towards his. her hands immediately fall to his waist while their lips collide.

he simply pushes forward, guiding them into her room as the kiss only grows more heated.

y/n moans into lando's mouth as his teeth graze her bottom lip. the two's lips stay connected as y/n's legs hit her bed.

their heavy panted breaths mix as y/n brings lando's shirt over his head. she can't help but stare at his toned body, blushing as he catches her in the act.

lando helps her lean back onto her bed, kissing down her exposed neck, his pants growing tighter at the feeling of her fingers gripping onto his curls.

"lan," y/n mumbles, "lando," she calls again.

he looks down at her, his pupils wide and breathing jagged. "yeah?"

"do you want this? like really want this?" y/n asks, not wanting to force anything on him.

lando quickly nods, "y/n i've never been more sure of anything."

he leans down to kiss her, this one being slower than before. a silent agreement between the two, both knowing how they needed this.

[drsbutmakeitspicy]

A bit in the future of the Single Dad!Carlos CarCar au:

Carlos was on a video call with other members of the team on a Friday afternoon of a rather cold day, a boring meeting that could have been an email, a meeting that he didn't even need to be part of. He could be relaxing analyzing some data he has been given early this morning while sitting on the bean bag by the baby mattress on the floor, where Catalina slept. Or he could be home by now, making dinner and washing clothes as she slept. His thoughts get interrupted by a knock at his door, before he can say anything Lando makes his way inside with Oscar right behind.

During non-race weeks the drivers had meetings with race engineer and strategists, sim work and marketing duties. 

“I'M DONE WITH TODAY, WHERE IS SHE?” Lando announced as he goes in, Carlos was glad he was muted.

”Lando! shh” Oscar says in a loud whisper, pointing to the toddler who now got her big brow eyes open and her faint eyebrows narrowed looking at Lando while still laying down. One of the many rules at the Sainz office was: Never wake up the baby, but if you do, you deal with her wrath.

She makes small whimpering noises as the first tears leave her eyes. “Oh baby girl, I'm so sorry.” he tells her in a sweet voice, crouching down with Oscar by his side watching the Brit try his best. Carlos keeps his eyes both on the call and the boys, watching the disaster he knows is about to happen.

As Lando picks her up she lets out a wail and cries loudly.  “No no no baby, Uncle Lando didn't mean to scare you!”

She is shoving his chest looking around searching for her father, still a bit confused from sleep. It was the worst choice Lando could make, he forgot that in situations like this Carlos lay down by her side and caress her hair until she falls asleep again.

He is also starting to panic as swaying her is not helping. Oscar sigh “Lina, baby.” He puts both hands in front of her, grabbing her attention. 

A gesture that she learned by the time she was 7 months old, he is asking if she wants him to hold her.

“Hey, it's not fair! She always wants you” and sure enough she extends her arms, small hiccups still leaving her mouth as she babbles nonsense for him. 

“You're okay baby, see? Uncle Lando didn't mean to scare you.” She is grabbing his shirt as he cuddles her close, swaying slightly.

Oscar makes eye contact with Carlos, who is up from his seat, ready to do something about the whole scene and watches his daughter rub her face on Oscar's hoodie - there's a chance she will fall asleep again, good. - he thinks as he sits down.

“In the kitchen fridge, inside the pink bag.” is all he says to the Aussie who already knows what to do. “Lan, let's give her a bottle and see if she will go back to sleep, maybe she will forgive you after.”

Lando just scoff with a disgusted expression “She absolutely love me Mr. Piastri! If you give me her right now you will see Uncle Lando is the best, aren't I, Catalina?”

“She will cry again, Lando. Just go to the kitchen while I deal with this meeting.” Carlos hands Lando a baby blanket and shoos them away, mouthing a ‘thanks’ to Oscar.

Before closing the door they can hear Carlos apologizing and asking someone to repeat the question. As it closes with a click they turn right on the corridor.

Lando has the baby blanket around his neck, walking a bit behind Oscar, faking that it's a fancy scarf, throwing it back and making silly faces which has earned him some giggles from the little girl that is laying her head on Oscar's shoulder.

“You cannot tell me she loves you more because you have sisters, mate.”

Oscar turns his face to look back at Lando, confused.

“Well, good. Cause I never told you that. I said I know what to do because I have 3 sisters and helped my mother with them growing up.” 

The small kitchen is not far from Carlos office as he is one of the few people that uses it.

“Then why is she so attached to you?”

Lando puts the tiny blanket on Oscar's shoulder as he goes to open the fridge, grabbing the pink bag and setting it on the table.

Oscar uses the corner of the blanket to wipe her tears. “I don't know.” She giggles when he nuzzles his nose on her hair, tiny hands grabbing the yellow blanket.“She just chose me, mate.” The beeping of the microwave grabs Lando’s attention. “See if it's the right temperature, I'll try to set her on the high chair.” Before Oscar can turn around-

“No high chairs.” He is surprised to see Carlos walk in. “Maybe if she agrees Lando can hold her as she drinks, no?” 

“Why no high chairs?”

“I'll explain later.”

Carlos ask Lando to pass the bottle checks it's temperature, he points for Lando to sit down on the big bean bag on the corner and turns to Catalina in Oscar's arms.

“C'mon princesa, you're probably hungry.” she goes with him easily babbling ‘papapapapa’.

“Be good Cariño” he tells her as he hands her to Lando who is distracting her with the warm bottle, pretending it's a plane.

The Brit sticks his tongue out in Oscar’s direction as if saying I won as she accepted the bottle from him. Drinking happily while looking around, trying to grab Lando's curls.

Carlos steps back to where the Aussie is, his fingers touching Oscar's in a light caress barely noticeable to others, repeating the motion enough times to make it known as not an accident. They stand there watching how Lina smiles with her eyes as Lando baby talks to her.

Oscar feels bad lying to Lando, but he also knows the Brit is horrible at keeping secrets, he doesn't know how Catalina is still a secret for the media.

He knows why Lina is attached to him, he just couldn't mention how many nights he spent at the Spanish man's house reading her stories, helping her with her dinner. He couldn't mention how he was there for them when she got the scary high fever Carlos always talks about. He couldn't tell Lando that he ended up falling for the man and god forbid he finds out they kissed for the first time last night. 

“You're drinking too fast Miss Lina, this is almost empty. Can she have another one ?” he looks at Carlos who takes a step creating a gap between him and the blushing Aussie.

“Only one is fine, try to burp her Lando, you remember how, no?”

“Pff, yea” As Lando gets in his own world talking to the toddler and patting her back Oscar takes his place back close to Carlos and laces their fingers, squeezing it twice.

[germiyahu]

That "racism of low expectations" point can be applied to more than Westerners patting their little Jihad Meow Meows on the head by the way. I think it also applies to American Jews, usually assimilated, acting like Israel is this Entity and not a country made up of mostly Middle Eastern Jews, people. When they do acknowledge that Israelis are people who aren't just acting in the interests of an all powerful governmental animus, they act like all Israelis are bloodthirsty frat bro soldiers wreaking havoc in Gaza because they think it's fun.

Because what is this? This tweet was in response to the chaotic backlash against Jonathan Glazer, who espoused a nearly identical sentiment. That sentiment being: Israel is using our Jewishness for some nefarious political purpose. It's not fair! We didn't sign off on GENOCIDE! How dare they use us to do this!

Israeli Jews are seen too unenlightened, too religious, too much of an embarrassment, to much of Diaspora Jewry. And yet at the same time their Jewishness is not even considered to be part of the political calculus of Israel at all? These not in my name types truly think Israel is a shadowy cabal of like 20 old white men (ironic) getting off on destroying lives and using as shields these poor innocent Americans and Brits, famously two peoples who've never twisted or corrupted the legacy of the Holocaust before.

They obviously have very hurt feelings that Israeli Jews dare to be Jews, to invoke their own Jewishness, Jewish values, to justify military action. They're not even really doing that? They want the hostages back. That is the primary concern if you poll Israeli citizens right now. And that's been the case pretty much every day since the pogrom. That's it. That's why they're saying Never Again. If that offends you as a Jewish person really let that steep. Really sit with your emotional reaction to Jews having a trauma reaction to traumatizing events and relating other events of Jewish trauma throughout history to that event. Ask yourself if it's appropriate to insinuate that they're using their Jewishness, sorry just YOUR Jewishness apparently, to make you look bad?

Israeli politicians have invoked the Holocaust outright, as a comparison. Because clearly the country whose "white" population is mostly made up of the descendants of Holocaust refugees has no business doing that? That's an affront to your name and your values?Again, why do you think everything is about you? Why do you think everything Israel does is even in your name in the first place? Is it American Brainrot Disease again?

You think Israeli Jews are so incapable of rationality and of yearning for social justice (they just want their family members back) that you erase them from the conversation. Israeli leftists are not real and are not working with Palestinians as we speak, and certainly aren't advocating for a ceasefire more successfully than anyone on this continent! Israeli politicians who speak to their constituents and use the shared cultural language of being Jews are trying to brainwash and influence Americans, because they have no constituents. Israel is just a bunch of racist politicians and a mercenary army that's trained to kill children specifically.

Like this is getting so annoying. It's clear they wish they could just excommunicate all Israelis, because they're Bad Jews. They want to take away their Jewish card, because that's not what Real Judaism stands for! And then they get offended when non secular Jews around the world dare question their Jewish identities in response to this behavior. Which I'm not condoning for the record, but how about you practice what you preach for once?

[smoooothoperator]

What Was I Made For?

13: This Side Of Paradise

childhood enemies, forced proximity, accidental pregnancy, enemies to lovers (👀)

Warnings: them being them :)

a/n: hi loooooovessssss I hope everyone is dping fine!! LEt's see if someone remembers what other chapter started like this one ;) (btw, jsut to give a hint, the pictures of all the headers are a hint of how their relationship improves)

if you want to play a game and ask things about Dafne

Masterlist

Pinterest

previous part | next part

If you want to be tagged don't forget to message me!

Every way of feedback is very welcomed

Something heavy was wrapping my waist. And the duvet is not that heavy.

And it feels warm… So warm… My whole body feels warm.

A hand was rubbing my belly, drawing soft circles with the fingers on the places the tiny baby inside of me kicked. His breathing was hitting my shoulder and his leg tangled with mine.

I opened my eyes slowly, looking down at the hand of my belly and following with my eyes the arm, turning my head to find Charles' body on top of the pillow wall.

“Morning” he whispered, looking at me with a smile.

“Morning” I whispered, closing my eyes and smiling when his hand didn't stop rubbing my belly. “The baby seems happy to feel your hand”

“Yeah, right? I’ve been awake for a while, feeling the little kicks non-stop,” he said, pressing gently against a particularly active spot. “It doesn’t bother you?”

“What? The kicks? They are not too harsh at the moment” I sighed. 

He smiled and nodded, closing his eyes too and moving slowly closer to me. This feels… Good, somehow. So good that it actually scares me.

“What do you want for breakfast?” he asked softly, his breath warm against my shoulder as his lips brushed my skin.

“Actually? I'm craving avocado toast” I smiled.

“Then avocado toast for two” he smiled, getting up from the bed, making me sigh.

Why did I sigh? Was it because I already missed his touch, his lips brushing my skin but never quite kissing me? Just a month ago, I couldn't stand the sight of him. Now, I crave his touch. How did we get here?

I followed him with my eyes, watching how jumped out of the bed and rushed to open his wardrobe, grabbing clean clothes before he went to the bathroom, turning on the shower after some seconds. I heard some soft groans and things falling to the floor, making me laugh softly.

 He stayed in the bathroom for some minutes before walking out again, dressed with the clothes he had grabbed and his hair dry. What? He took a shower, why is his hair dry?

I looked at him, watching how his cheek had a slight red color and he tried to avoid my gaze. Did he…?

“I'm going to the kitchen” he said after clearing his throat. “I don't have tea… Is coffee allowed during pregnancy?”

“Yeah” I sighed. “But only once a day”

“Oh, that must be hard” he tried to joke, making me roll my eyes. “I mean, you are Italian, an espresso lover”

“And also a Brit, a tea lover” I pointed. “But yeah, I can't have a lot of those drinks… I read somewhere on the internet that it is good if I have tea twice a day and coffee once…”

“Yeah…” he sighed. “Remind me to make an appointment for you”

“We talked about it, Charles…” I sighed, shaking my head. 

“I know, you want privacy and keep a lower profile with the pregnancy” he sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed close to me. “But you need to do check ups to see how our baby is going. Don't you want to know the gender?”

“I mean… I would love to” I sighed, looking at him, watching how his hand flew again to my belly, rubbing it on top of the shirt. 

“Do you want a gender reveal party?” he chuckled.

“Only if our family is there” I smiled weakly. “Do you… Do you want to tell the other drivers?”

“I mean… I would probably tell Pierre” he nodded. “If that's okay with you. And ask him if he wants to come to the gender reveal in case we make one”

“You really want to turn finding out the baby’s gender into a show, huh?” I laughed, shaking my head at the idea.

“It's funny!” he defended himself, hitting my thigh softly. “Its just an excuse to make our families meet again after everything that happened, to give them what they wanted since a lot of time…”

“Yeah…” I sighed. “Okay, let's do it”

“What, really?” he said, surprised. “I was joking!”

“No, no. I think you were right” I sighed, sitting on the bed and looking at him. “We need to give them what they want. They wanted us to stop fighting, then let's show them that”

He nodded and smiled, his hand rubbing my belly and moving to my waist, leaving it there for a few seconds. I looked into his eyes and then at his lips, but then I just looked away, clearing my throat.

“Well, I'll help you make breakfast” I nodded, moving the bed clothes and standing up.

I stretched, wincing at the familiar ache in my back. As I moved around the room to grab clothes from my backpack, I felt Charles’ eyes on me, a silent, comforting presence.

“What?” I frowned, looking at him.

“Nothing” he smiled. “You just… You look beautiful”

“Oh, shut up” I mumbled, looking away and blushing slightly.

How will I survive if he keeps acting like this? He keeps looking at me like that, standing close to me whenever he can, looking at me with those green eyes.

“Will you leave that beard?” I asked, looking at him.

“Why? You like it?” he chuckled. 

I bite my lip and look away, grabbing my jeans and putting them on, sighing when I feel they don't fit again. I just ignored him, walking out of the room and heading to the kitchen, opening the fridge and sighing.

We made breakfast in silence, helping each other, like a team, finally.

While we ate he grabbed his laptop and started searching things about pregnancy, about what he should know, what reads he’ll buy to know more about what will happen until the baby arrives. And somehow, watching him read everything fully focused made the tinglings on my stomach get more notorious.

Maybe it's the baby, knowing that Charles is interested.

I helped him take the last things he needed to take to the villa. But he only let me carry his coat and scarf.

“I think I'm going to take the bigger car” he sighed, looking at the keys he has on the entry of his apartment. “You were uncomfortable during the trip, right?”

“Don't worry, really” I smiled, shaking my head. “But… Can you let me drive at the start?” 

“What? Why?” he asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

“Come on, I might be pregnant, but I still can drive” I said, rolling my eyes. “And there's a place I need to go before we leave”

“Okay” he sighed, grabbing the keys of his SUV.

I bit my lip, smiling nervously at the thought of our destination.

Charles and I walked to the elevator and this time I stood close to him, feeling how his hand reached mine and his pinky finger tangled with mine, making me try to hide a smile by looking to the side.

“I never saw you with this car” I said, walking to the bigger car he owns, not like the other Ferrari he has. 

“I normally use it when I go to train somewhere away” he sighed. “But… I think this will be a good car for us… You know, like… We can buy a baby chair and put it on the backseats and it has enough space to put the baby carrier on the back”

I looked at him and then at the car, and somehow the images of him opening the door of the backseats and picking up a baby started to show in my mind. Images of him folding and I folding the baby carrier. Images of him holding our baby.

I shook my head slightly, trying to dispel the images from my mind.

“Oh, nice” I nodded, looking away and walking to the driver seat.

I took a deep breath, adjusting the seat and looking at him sitting on the passenger seat next to me. He sighed, trying to not look nervous while I drove the car out of the garage. 

“Where are we going?” he asked curious.

“You'll see, be patient” I smiled looking at him.

I drove around the streets, doing the same route I do whenever I come to Monaco.

I saw people turning their heads and looking at the car, some people surprised to see who was driving and others to see both of us in the car. When I stopped the car at a red traffic light, I saw people grabbing their phones and taking pictures of the car and the inside of it.

“I guess the rumors will start now” I sighed. 

“Yeah…” Charles sighed, rubbing his temple. “I’m really sorry… I know this isn't what you wanted.”

“It's okay” I smiled weakly, looking at him. “We started it yesterday by walking hand in hand inside of that restaurant”

I heard him sigh heavily, grabbing his sunglasses and putting them on. I smiled weakly, my gaze lingering on his hand. My fingers twitched with the urge to hold it, to place it on my belly.

The red light changed to green and I started the car again, driving through the streets and soon parking the car.

“What are we doing here?” Charles mumbled, already knowing where we were.

“I think we owe them something” I sighed, opening the door and walking towards him, standing next to him.

He took a deep breath and nodded, holding my hand tightly while we walked inside the cemetery. It was quiet, the only thing you could hear was the sound of our feet walking through the gravel, the trees moving with the soft breeze and some birds chirping melodies on top of our heads.

The first grave we found was Jules', since he was one of the celebrities buried in this cemetery and some Ferrari followers came here to place flowers for him.

I felt a shiver running down my spine, making me take a deep breath and bite my lip.

Jules knew Charles was only teasing me when we were kids. He always told me to not take things seriously, that I had to think that Charles was only a silly kid. And now, thinking about it, thinking that maybe he knew how Charles felt, just made me realize that he was another one who wished we ended up together.

“Jules…” I heard Charles sigh, squeezing my hand softly and letting it go, only to wrap his arm around my shoulders and pulling me even closer to him. “I miss him so much”

“Me too” I whispered..

“I wish he was here to look at us” I sighed, placing my hand on top of the one has on my shoulder. 

“He's up there” he said. “Jules is looking at us from above, he always did”

I smiled weakly and nodded, wrapping my arm around his waist and walking with him to the other grave. Somehow, having him this close to me feels good. Breathing his scent, feeling his warm body against mine, his hand on my shoulder. I felt his breathing start to get heavier and his hand over my shoulder moving to intertwine his fingers with mines.

“Hey dad” he whispered.

I looked at him, smiling weakly. His eyes were looking at the grave with the name of his father engraved. I took a deep breath and leaned closer to him..

We stayed in silence but I could hear what he was thinking about. I could feel all his fear, his sadness, his doubts. He had many questions, all those questions written on his face.

“Charles…” I whispered, seeing the tears well up in his eyes.

“What am I going to do?” he whispered. “I can't have him here, Dafne. He's not here, he won't meet our baby. He couldn't even see us not hating each other”

“I know, Charles. I know” I sighed, facing him and placing my hand on his cheek, feeling his beard against my skin. 

“I just… I forgot about him” he mumbled looking at the grave.. “I didn't think about him. And I feel so disappointed with myself. When I found out about the pregnancy I only focused on you and stopped thinking about me. I'm a terrible son, how can I be a good father?”

“Hey, don't think that” I sighed. 

“But it's true, Dafne” he sighed, placing his hands on my waist. 

“You are not a terrible son” I whispered. “You were the best. You stayed next to him during all his life, even when he was sick. And you are going to be an amazing father too, okay? You hear me? You are just overwhelmed”

He nodded slowly trying to not look at me, his eyes moving everywhere. I sighed and let go of his cheek, taking a step back.

“We should go,” I sighed. “We still have a stop in Maranello before heading home.”

“Yeah” he sighed, holding my hand again and walking out of the cemetery towards the car.

He stayed silent all the time.

His hand was on top of my belly, rubbing it softly while hisnother hand held the steering wheel. The music was playing soft on the speakers.

But he didn't say anything since we got out of Monaco.

And somehow it made me feel bad.

Did I do something bad by bringing him to the cemetery? Or by hugging him? Is it bad?

I thought we were okay, kinda. Last night I told him that I wanted us to work. And this morning I didn't push him away when I woke up with him next to me.

At our rest stops, Charles stayed in the car while I went to buy food and drinks. He didn't even smile when I handed him his favorite snacks.

And it was enough for me.

“Okay, what the hell is going on with you?” I frowned. 

He looked at me with confusion in his eyes, making me scoff and raise my hands.

“You've been ignoring me since we left the cemetery” I pointed. “You are making me feel bad! Was it a mistake? Well, I'm sorry!”

“It's not that” he sighed.

“Then what is it? Just say it! I can't read your mind” I frowned, moving on the seat to face him.

“I…” he sighed, taking a deep breath and resting his head on his seat. “I'm scared, I guess. Of disappointing everyone, disappointing the baby. Disappointing you”

“Charles…” I sighed.

“I don't want to get high hopes” he said. “Since you hugged me in the cemetery, I kept repeating in my mind that you are doing this because of the baby. That you are letting me touch you because of the baby and nothing else. Yes, you said last night that you were tired of pushing me away, but somehow I got scared of this just being an illusion”

I looked at him, surprised. He's always the one that tries to put some sense in my mind since he decided to stay with me. Always trying to talk with me and making me realize that he wouldn't run away. He didn't even flinch when he confessed that he was in love with me.

But now, seeing him like this, so insecure, so… 

“It's not an illusion” I sighed. “Charles, I… I want this, I really do. I know I did everything to push you away, I even ran away from you in the middle of the cold night. But… The way you took care of me while I was sick, the way you touch my belly… I don't know. I'm confused and scared too”

He looked at me, somehow his eyes were sad. I sighed, holding his hand between mine, feeling his warm skin against my cold one.

“I'm scared” I whisper. “I'm so scared of giving up and falling for you. I'm so scared of putting my walls down for you. But God, everytime you touch me it makes me want to stop fighting. But I keep repeating in my mind everything we did, everything we went through. And I try to convince myself that that is not us anymore”

I watched as his throat bobbed and his jaw tightened. His hand found mine, slowly warming my cold skin

“I'm scared of what people would say about us” he whispered. “You saw what happened yesterday with my friends. I don't even want to think about what people that don't know us will say…”

“We can't control that” I mumbled. 

“I know” he nodded. “But I want to protect you. You and the baby. And I'm so scared of failing you, of disappointing you again”

“You won't…”

“I will” he insisted, looking into my eyes. “Again and again, like the previous years. Because the only thing I do is mess things up and make them even worse. I crossed a line, Dafne. And I'm so scared of crossing more and actually hurt you”

Taking a deep breath, I brought his hands to my lips, softly kissing his fingers. I then placed his hand on my cheek, leaning into his touch for the first time.

“I crossed a line myself” I said. “One of the lines I draw for you”

“What…?” he mumbled, confused.

“And you crossed another line when you touched my belly for the first time” I whispered. “And did I argue?”

“No” he whispered, his eyes following my movements, watching how my fingers played with his fingers.

“I'm letting you in, can't you see?” I sighed. “No illusions, no fake hopes. I'm letting you in,, and not because you are related to this baby. I'm letting you in because I want to believe that we can change, that we can be a family”

“But why I keep feeling that you are just a step away from me?” he whispered.

“Give me time” I smiled weakly. “Give me time to get used to this. To you. To us. Because there will be an us, Charles. Really. I'm in. I'm really in”

As the words left my lips, I watched a warm smile slowly spread across his face, reaching his eyes.

“Can we just skip going to Maranello today and go back home?” I smiled weakly. “I just need my bed”

“Mine wasn't that bad” he laughed softly, making me smile after hearing his laugh.

“It wasn't, the problem was that I had half of the bed, not all of it” I teased.

He laughed again and sighed, looking at me. He moved my hands with him until his lips touched my fingers, kissing them softly while he held my gaze.

“Is this okay?” he whispered.

“Yeah” I nodded.

His smile made me smile too. And the tinglings in my stomach started to be more frenetic.

“Let's go home” he smiled, holding my hand and turning on the engine of the car, driving to that house that is a refuge for me, my baby and Charles.

taglist

@racinggirl @elisysd @alltoomaples @ssprayberrythings @rach3164 @yvonne-dump @deliciousfestsalad @janeh22 @hc-dutch @ninifee1802 @kakorrhaphiphobia @ssararuffoni @itsjustkhaos @scaramou @tapedeck-hearts @apollosfavkiddo @sltwins @glitterquadricorn @ladystardust05 @theseerbetweenus @vizzzashley @auawdo @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @leptitlu @green-thots @caterinemirandax_ @mid5nights

[nolita-fairytale]

burn your life down | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter two

summary: you decided to meet luca, taking him up on his offer to return the favor, and it gives the both of you the opportunity to get to know each other better.

warnings: fluff, eventual smut, eventual angst not use of y/n, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, very little connection to the world of the bear.

word count: 2777

a/n: for an america's indepedence day, have a hot brit and a love story that takes place in denmark lmao. okay so now we're all caught up with what i wrote for the headcanon and boy do i have some surprises in store for you next. thank you so much for all of the reactions to chapter one and the headcanon. this story has weaseled its way into my heart and has taken over my brain. i'm writing it for me but it's nice to hear others are enjoying it too. anyways, let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist!

chapter one | masterlist | chapter three

“You have to go!” Jesper insists with the kind of conviction of a damn good lawyer. 

“I don’t have to anything,” you reply, making sure to emphasize the word ‘have.’

“No, you have to go,” Mathilde chimes in, a little softer, a little kinder than her brother’s earlier encouragement. 

After your post-shift meeting, everyone had gone home, save for the three of you – the Mikkelson twins cornering you about Luca’s thank-you-card proposition.

“Well, since you both keep harping on it, why don’t you come with me?” you suggest, in an attempt to shift the focus off of you. 

Your eyes scan their faces, trying to get a read on the both of them as Jesper and Mathilde exchange a pointed look, having the kind of non-verbal exchange that only comes from having shared every moment of their lives together.

“What?” you ask, looking back and forth from Mathilde to Jesper again.

“It wasn’t addressed to us,” Mathilde points out with a shrug, a sly look on her face. “It was only addressed to you.”

“Looks like someone has a crush,” Jesper adds with a smirk. 

“He doesn’t have a crush!” you protest without hesitation, your heart seizing for a moment. 

“A talent crush,” Mathilde reasons, knowing that anything more than a talent-crush would talk you out of going entirely. 

“Would it be the worst thing in the world if he did?” Jesper continues, much to both you and Mathilde’s chagrin. “I mean, when was the last time you got-, ow!”

Sharply cut off by an elbow to the rib, Jesper glares at his sister before returning his attention to you. 

“I’m just saying! He’s sexy. He’s a chef at one of the best restaurants in the world. You could do worse for yourself,” Jesper clarifies, earning another glare from his sister. 

He has a point, but you ignore it, because you’re not really sure if you’re ready to go there just yet. You think it over, and after giving it another moment, you open your mouth to speak again. 

“Alright, I’ll go,” you sigh in resignation, earning a few celebratory comments and gasps from the twins. “Are you both happy now?”

And that’s how – after at least an hour of stressing out about what to wear to a place like this – you find yourself standing in front of a closed restaurant on a day where almost everything is closed in Denmark. You’d settled on a pair of wide leg denim pants, a square toed boot appropriate for navigating the Copenhagen cobblestone, and a white and black striped sweater, slightly tucked into the front of your jeans that hangs loosely from your frame. 

Classic. Put-together enough for a two-starred Michelin restaurant on closed day. Certainly not a date kind of outfit.

Luca proves once again to be punctual as ever as he greets you at the front door, right on time. He wears a blue t-shirt that seems to emphasize his already intense blue eyes with a navy-colored apron layered over top of it. 

“You came,” are the first words he says to you, a wide smile spreading across his lips as soon as he sees you.

“Yeah I uh-, thank you. For inviting me,” you stammer, nervously searching for the right words. 

“Thank you for coming. Well, c’mon then!” he encourages, nodding towards the inside as he holds the door open for you. 

“Did you find the place alright?” Luca asks you, as you follow him. 

He leads you into the vaulted basement – the space that makes up the Danish-style, fine dining restaurant that’s been a leader in innovation. You follow Luca through the closed dining room, back into the kitchen, and then into the pastry room as you answer his question, mentioning that it wasn’t too long of a walk and that you found the place just fine.

As soon as you see what he’s been working on, it renders you near-speechless. You can see that he’s been hard at work – on his day off, no less – almost as if he knew you would come. 

“Would you like to have a seat?” he offers, gesturing towards the pastry bench. 

“Uh.. yeah. That’d be great. I-, um… thank you… again, for inviting me,” you answer, watching as he brings a stool over to it, setting up a little space for you. 

“Oh, it’s my pleasure. It’s really the least I can do. Think after this we’re uh… what 5 to 1?” he replies casually, in reference to the fact that he’ll only have fed you once in comparison to the amount of times he’s come to the restaurant. 

You chuckle, returning with a playful, “Well, I don’t think anyone’s keeping score.”

He sends a crooked smile your way, one that you know you’ll be thinking about for the rest of the week, before exchanging a laugh with you. 

“Just think of it as a thank you. For the great meals. For the hospitality,” he continues, as you watch him plate his gelee-focused dish. First the chocolate, then yellow, white, and green. A carefully tweezed wafer on top. 

“This is a shiso gelee with a chocolate mint ganache, finished with a thin slice of marzipan, and a caramel cracker. It’s from our current menu,” Luca introduces, walking you through the dish like you walked him through your crispy rice and trumpet mushroom dish. 

He pushes the plate-that-looks-more-like-a-pedestal towards you for you to try, his eyes meeting yours. Luca studies you carefully as you pick up the fork he’s set out for you, cutting through the gelee for your first bite. He watches as you scoop up a little of the ganache, making sure to get a bit of the cracker as well. 

You’re creating a perfect bite – one with a little bit of everything – just like he’d done with the first dish of yours he had a month or so ago. 

As you raise the fork to your lips, taking your first bite, the vibrant flavors hit your tongue with surprise and brilliance that you weren’t expecting. It’s somehow new, innovative, yet nostalgic all at once. 

“Oh my god,” you say with a sigh of pure bliss. You savor each and every flavor, taking your time with your first bite before continuing with: “It’s almost like-.”

“A minty snickers bar?” he offers up with a quirk of an eyebrow. 

“That’s exactly it!” you cry out with joy. 

He smiles proudly, “Yeah, it’s a nice dish.”

“So how long have you been doing this? Cooking…? Or have you done Pastry the whole time?” you ask, digging into the rest of the gelee. 

“About fourteen years… give or take. Started when I was a kid… just washing dishes… was a bit of a rebel…. The kitchen gave me a place to land,” he shares with an ease and charm that makes you feel like you could tell him all of your secrets. 

“Yeah, no I-, I get that,” you agree, enjoying your second bite of Luca’s shiso dish. 

“Gave my mum a little peace of mind. That’s for sure. Don’t think I was an easy kid to raise,” he continues as you listen. 

“Didn’t start pastry till about three years ago or so. Went mostly the fine dining route… worked my way up to sous position at a really great place, but wasn’t interested in moving up the ranks in that regard. Decided it was time to try something different.”

You nod with respect for his decision for change. 

“Where’d you grow up?” you ask curiously, watching him wipe down the pastry bench with a clean towel as he begins to prepare for a second dish.

“London,” he answers. 

“Oh! I uh, lived there for a few years, actually,” you say, sharing a familiar smile with him. 

“What about you? Where’d you grow up? And how long have you been cooking for?” he asks, shifting the focus of the conversation to you. 

“Boston,” you reply. 

He hums in response, “I’ve never been. What was that like?”

“Boston is great. Good weather, great food, interesting people. ‘S actually where I learned how to cook. My mom’s a single parent so… I spent a lot of time at our neighbor’s house… and their restaurant. They still own this Italian restaurant that’s like… been in the family for a hundred or so years and I practically grew up there,” you explain, sharing parts of yourself – of your story – in return. 

“Oh yeah?” he asks, an amused look on his face. 

“Yeah, we hung out there a lot when we were kids – me and my best friend. Then when I was old enough to work, I marched in one day after school and pitched myself for a job, demanding that I cook and that I’d accept nothing less” you reminisce trying your best to recreate the bold confidence of your fifteen year old self.

Luca chuckles in response, “That’s incredible,”

“I was a rather precocious child,” you add, laughing with a fondness for that previous version of you.

He smiles, “Yeah, I know the feeling well.”

Luca clears his throat, pulling out a clean bowl and beginning to plate something new. He explains that this one is a savory dish, starting with a fermented sourdough cracker as he walks you through the flavor profiles of each component, mentioning that it’s got to be one of his favorites on the menu so far. 

“I’m up for sharing if you are,” you suggest, in response to his last comment. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.”

You watch as Luca picks up another fork, digging into the dish with you. There’s an intimacy that comes from sharing a meal with someone – eating off the same plate, enjoying the same sensory experience, quite literally breaking bread – that makes Luca feel less and less like a stranger to you with each bite. You still can’t believe that he’s done this for you – that you’re here – and while you’re not sure why, you lean into a softness, allowing yourself to enjoy it while it’s happening. 

“Did you go to culinary school?” you ask him, over your last few shared bites.

“No, what about you?” he replies quickly. 

“No, I actually majored in business,” you answer, earning a hum from him. 

“Huh…” he sounds, with a raise of both eyebrows in surprise. 

“I know…” you groan, with a playful eye roll more so directed at yourself. “My first career was in finance… account management. Then I did the whole investment thing for a while… it was uh… really sexy stuff, I know.”

“You don’t strike me as someone who would’ve been happy doing something like that,” Luca observes, only surprising you a little that he’d be able to pick up on something like that so quickly. 

“Oh no. I wasn’t. I was miserable,” you echo in agreement. You take a breath, and a beat, before explaining. “It was more of… a wish fulfillment thing, I think. For my mom. I mean, it wasn’t my dream, by any means. But having stability was important to me, to my mom…. To my partner at the time.”

“And now?”

You wait a beat before answering. 

“And now… I’m just… figuring it out as I go.”

Your eyes flicker over the ‘every second counts’ sign that hangs on the wall while Luca busses the table once again, sharing that he’s got one more dish he’d like for you to try. You settle into a quiet rhythm as you sit back and allow him to provide an experience unlike any other you’ve had. You watch him carefully as he moves around the kitchen prepping for his last dish, taking in each and every tattoo visible on his arms. 

“Every second counts,” you speak out loud, returning your attention to the sign. 

“Yeah,” he nods, turning his attention to where you’re looking. “It’s uh-, something an old head chef of mine used to say. Really stuck with me.”

You nod in agreement as he pulls out a final dessert plate. 

“‘S actually what brought me to you,” he continues, in reference to the sign. “An old friend of mine called me for a favor. He’s opening a new restaurant and wanted their patissier to come stage here for a bit.” 

Luca begins plating his final dish using a few pastry rings, a clean pair of tweezers, and berries left macerating in a deli container with a laser focus that you’d expect from a pastry chef at a two-starred Michelin restaurant.

“We got into… this whole conversation about inspiration. How to find it. Where to find it. I told him he’s gotta be open… to everything. To things out there. That that’s how you succeed in this industry – how you set yourself apart,” Luca adds, impressing you with his precision of plating while sharing something so personal. 

“It reminded me that… it’s been a while since I’ve opened myself up to… well… anything outside of this place.”

“No, yeah, I totally get it. It’s easy to get lost in it – it being the four walls of your restaurant. Running a restaurant is relentless. One minute you put your head down and the next…” you empathize with him. 

“It’s three weeks later.”

“Yeah.”

“Which leads me to why I asked you here,” Luca segways, as he finishes his final dish. “I ran into a little bit of writers’ block – or rather, chef’s block, if you will – working on our Summer menu.” 

He presents the dish towards you, earning a gasp from you as you take in the stunning creation.

“Knew I needed to get out of here for a beat. Get out of my head. Get some new perspectives.”

“Is this for your new menu?” you ask, your eyes devouring the cake-based dish first. 

“Maybe… just something I’ve been working on – something that’s been floating around in my head a while,” he shrugs, watching you carefully as he tries to search your face for any kind of reaction. 

You dig your fork into the spongey, tea-soaked, circular layered cake, raising it to your lips and immediately finding pure joy as you taste it. 

Yuzu. Earl Grey. The cake is almost like a lady finger – tiramisu-like in the way that it eats – filled with a yuzu curd in between each layer of cake, then finished with what you can only assume is a sort of black sesame dust that he’s sifted over top of the dish. 

“Woah,” is all that comes out of your mouth.

“Yeah?” Luca questions, unable to hide the smile that spreads across his lips. 

“Yeah uh… Why does this feel so familiar? It’s like… you’re reading my mind with this one,” you ask, your eyes wide savor each note. 

“Well, it should. Feel familiar, that is. It’s inspired by you,” Luca explains, treading carefully around the last few words. 

“What do you-?” you begin to ask, before the words leave you. 

You half expect him to tell you he’s joking, and you can’t tell whether or not it’s a blush running across his high cheekbones that you spot, as he turns his attention elsewhere. He begins moving around the kitchen, eager to begin cleaning up after himself to recover from the sheer vulnerability he feels from sharing this with you. 

Was this why he’d invited you here? 

“Luca,” you say, your words stopping him as he turns back to you. 

“What’s up?” he asks, so casually, as if he hadn’t just called you his muse. 

"All of this... you did all of this for me…. Why?" you muster up the courage to ask, the words falling out of your mouth with a weight you don’t expect. 

He takes a beat, afraid of coming on too strong, considering you’ve only just met, yet wanting nothing more than to tell you the truth.

Luca sighs, choosing the latter, before laying it all out on the table.

 "Your food is inspired and I don’t think I’ve had something this inspired in a long time,” he explains before pausing. “Your passion for Italian cuisine… weaving in the bits and pieces of yourself and approaching it from different culinary perspectives? You inspired me.” 

He takes another beat. 

“And as chefs, this is what we do. We feed each other." 

You’re speechless, but you can feel yourself nodding in agreement as you mumble out the most reverent ‘thank you’ that you can muster. You can feel it – that this is the beginning of, well, you're not quite sure what – but whatever it is, you're glad he walked into your restaurant however many weeks ago.

“Luca?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for sharing this with me.”

He nods, one corner of his mouth turning up into a smile. 

“Cheers.”

[sxpphicwitch]

Theory: Señor Scratchy will (should) turn out to be a hare, not a rabbit.

So I know how most people associate black cats with witches and, in the comics, Agatha Harkness' familiar is a black cat called Ebony. However, what you might not know, is that hares (jackrabbits for all you non-Brits out there) are also associated with witches.

Hares are a close relative of rabbits, they're both classed as leporid lagomorphs but there are a few key distinctions. Rabbits are generally cute and fluffy, they often live in burrows (this is simplifying things, there's actually lots of species of rabbit and many don't burrow) and one species, the European rabbit, was domesticated by monks and that's how we've got pet rabbits.

Hares, on the other hand, are evolved to run long distances at speed when under threat, they can be quite aggressive, they love to kick and dramatically backflip and they look like they've seen some dark, dark shit. They're also relatively elusive and prefer dawn and dusk. Sounds like the kind of animal Agatha would vibe with right?

And it is probably because of this elusiveness that they're so shrouded in myth. In medieval times, hares were associated with witches and shapeshifting. One such example was in 1662, when a woman named Isobel Gowdie confessed to four counts of witchcraft, stated that she was sent on an errand by the devil and that during that errand, she was disguised as a hare.

Another story tells of an old woman in Dorset, England, who was locally thought to be a witch. One night, a group of men went out hunting, leaving their tools by the house of said witch. When out hunting, they saw a magical pure white hare. They tried to capture it but it escaped after it had been bitten by their dogs. When they returned to their tools, they found the old woman injured and bloodied. In a rare positive ending, the men decided to never try to hunt the hare again.

And my final point is that hares have also been historically associated with homosexuality. In classical antiquity, many vases depict hares in scenes about homosexual promiscuity. This theme extended into the Middle Ages where comparing someone to a hare was a suggestion that they had partaken in sodomy.

I guess Agatha cant just be walking around with a whole ass hare (they're quite big btw, I know cos I had one in my freezer for a month... don't ask) so my theory is that she's hiding him in plain sight as a normal looking rabbit.

Anyway, I'm a scientist that studies rabbits and hares and this idea came to me when I was stoned. Hope it makes sense!

[guardkeywolf]

Hello! Love ur fics sm btw!!

Idk if your taking requests but may you please write a male! Reader x any cod boi angsty smut. Like it’s an interrogation scene but the m/reader is being non- cooperative and a brat then the boys finally have enough then.. yk…

All good if you can’t though🫶🏾

Getting Answers the Hard Way (smut)

2,000+ words...

Wow...

Um... I shocked myself with how fast I wrote this but I hope it's to your liking @silly-little-grot !

I did also mention one of my OC's within it if you don't mind...

WARNING: There are mentions of blood, scars, but it's mostly mild

I hope you enjoy!

°

°

°

Y/n wasn't pissed when he got caught by the 141, but he had no intentions on letting them get any information out of him. 

They didn't plan on treating him nice when they wanted information either, so he opted to stay silent the entire time. 

Of course, this led to him getting plummeted by the man with the skull mask but Y/n didn't even bother flinching at the pain. He stared at the man deep in the eyes and just smiled. The man just glared at him angrily and sighed before leaving the room. 

Y/n hardly registered where his knife had pierced through his skin but barely paid attention to it as he wondered who they would send in next.

The masked man was the third of the four to come into the place they were holding Y/n, not that he was concerned but eventually he would have to get out of here and report back to his own superiors...soon.

While lost in his own thoughts, Y/n didn't hear the door open again as the black male stepped into the room.

"I'm surprised Ghost didn't crack you… He usually scares the shit out of anyone" he chuckled out, finally gaining Y/n's attention as he whipped his head up to look at the man standing before him.

Y/n stared at him with blank eyes before letting his own eyes scan over the man's features. Y/n couldn't help but smile at the attractive snack in front of him. 

The thin little hips were making him go wild, those sharp beautiful browns gazed into his very soul, the perfect height, and his voice… Damn he wanted to rail the very being out of the young Brit. 

The male stared at him in confusion before sighing and walking up to him and pulling Y/n by his collar harshly to look at him.

"You have information that we need. No point to keep it to yourself..." he growled out while pressing deep into the bullet wound in his thigh making Y/n smile even more at his eagerness as the pain spread through his body like a wildfire. 

It was cute to watch him, honestly. So why not toy with him a bit more?

"I didn't know the 141 kept such beauties around..." a knife was now going through the same thigh he had gotten shot in but he continued to ignore it as he watched the black male look at him, a much more pissed expression now painting his face.

"I don't think to realize just how fucked you are... so I suggest you either cooperate or we'll have to do things the hard way," he pulled his hair back this time, hard as Y/n just laughed at him.

"Oh don't worry, I'm already halfway there... in the meantime, why don't you tell me your name, cutie?"

The hit to the ribs made him cough up blood, but he still smiled up at the man.

Y/n really did want to know his name, he was damn near gorgeous to look at.

"You're disgusting...you know that?"

Y/n laughed more as he coughed up even more blood than before.

"Well it's hard to not be when I got a beautiful specimen standing in front of me... and I know you want me-"

The punch to his jaw was definitely going to sting for some time but Y/n didn't mind... the beauty in front of him could do whatever he liked as far as he was concerned.

The male walked out the room angry, slamming the door as he stormed out to his team.

"Any progress, Gaz?" Soap asked him.

"He spoke...but he's weird. It's like he doesn't even register pain-"

"HE SPOKE?! Not even Ghost could make him talk, mate!" The Scottish man said in surprise.

"Yeah, but he keeps calling me a beauty and everything... Are you sure he never said to the rest of you?"

"Nope, you're the first... Oh, we also got a name now for him... Y/n."

Gaz sighed and nodded before making his way back into where they were holding... Y/n.

The man looked the same as he left him, bloody and beaten but still smiling up at him.

"Hey, Beautiful... Miss me?"

Gaz was going to be honest, Y/n still looked too damn good considering the amount of scars and bruises they had left on him... it was partially unfair in his opinion.

"Shut up, Y/n..."

"Likewise, Gaz..." Y/n responded.

Gaz wasn't even mad that the man knew his codename, before grabbing his collar and kissing him fully on the lips.

Y/n looked surprised but continued fucking smiling at him regardless.

Gaz let himself get seated in the man's lap, and damn could he feel Y/n's member, as he continued to kiss him before groaning at not being able to get the man's shirt off.

"You're gonna have to let me out of these, Beautiful..." he shook his chains to make his point.

Gaz was going to say no, but at this point his mind was made up as he unlocked the chains they had put on Y/n's wrist.

With his wrist no longer chained, Y/n took Gaz into his arms and pulled him closer by his waist as his tongue breached Gaz's mouth.

The Sergeant cried against his mouth he felt the man squeeze his ass painfully as he tugged him even closer to his body.

Gaz quickly stripped himself of his gear, still keeping his gun and knife near, and doing the same with Y/n.

Surprisingly, Y/n was gentle with him, but Gaz didn't let his guard down despite the vast amount of pleasure he got from the man.

"You're tense, Beautiful... what makes you think I'd hurt you?"

"You're 2 times my size for one, now stop talking and fuck me," Gaz growled out again as he pulled Y/n into a deeper kiss this time.

Y/n was quick to listen as he quickly stripped Gaz himself and began to kiss down his chocolate skin slowly. Gaz let out soft moans as Y/n worked his way down his chest sinfully, looking up at Gaz each time making him turn away from his gaze and blush furiously.

As Gaz grasped and moaned from Y/n's skillful tongue, he finally managed to get a sentence out.

"Y-Y/n...fuck...eat me out n-now," he whined before turning onto his stomach and presenting his ass to their enemy.

Y/n watched in awe before picking Gaz up and laying him on the table so he could see his face.

"We are not fucking on the floor, Beautiful... You deserve better than that" Y/n said as he dropped to his knees and pulled Gaz to the edge of the table before lifting his legs up and letting his tongue swipe at the Sergeant delicious hole.

Gaz jumped at he cold and slimy feeling run over his hole before grabbing Y/n's head and pulling him closer. The man's tongue danced around his insides wildly as he ate out Gaz's sweet hole. It got even better when Y/n added in a finger to stretch him even more.

Gaz had to cover his mouth to hide his screams from the others as their prisoner rimmed him all too well.

He hated how good Y/n's tongue felt inside him, he hated how hot Y/n was, he hated his voice, his eyes, his everything. He hated how much he was enjoying this.

Gaz was sure one of the soldiers had already saw or heard them but would rather worry about it later, especially when Y/n stood up after loosening his hole more than ever.

Gaz hardly had enough energy to even lift himself up to look at Y/n before feeling something press against his hole.

The Sergeant shivered as he felt Y/n run his member over his hole even more, watching some of the pre-cum run down it as well.

It was menacing to even look at when Gaz saw it.

"You got any lube, Beautiful? I can't exactly go in raw..."

"G-Go find it yourself," Y/n stared at him still and he sighed, "first pocket on my vest..."

"Well aren't you naughty... I can only wonder who you'd keep this around for..."

Gaz only scoffed as he thought of a certain Leopardian-Arachnian that he knew as Y/n walked back over to him.

He squirted some back onto his hand before rubbing some on his dick before aligning himself with Gaz's hole.

Without warning, Y/n pushed in and waited while Gaz got use to his size.

Y/n gripped at his thighs tightly as the Sergeant tried his best to adjust while he tried his best not to move.

"Come on, Beautiful..." but the man was quickly shut up when Gaz tightened around him making Y/n groan quietly to himself.

"Just move dammit," he cried out as Y/n thrust into his vigorously.

Somehow, this man managed to his his prostate spot on, making the him scream before trying to regain focus himself.

Gaz hung on to Y/n's shoulders for dearly life when Y/n fucked him against the table before picking him up and fucking him into the wall.

The man's pace ruthlessly abused his prostate, even making the poor Sergeant hiccup ever so often.

Y/n kissed him deeply and Gaz couldn't even make himself hate it even if he wanted too. Their prisoner was doing so well that he could hardly keep up with his pace before coming himself on the wall.

Y/n was surprised and quickly pulled out of Gaz, making the man whine, before moving them to the chair with Y/n sitting down while Gaz straddled him.

Y/n didn't bother moving when he sat the Sergeant back on his member. He enjoyed watching him struggle to get some friction and he rolled his hips slowly.

"Y/n I fucking swear-"

"Fucking yourself on my dick and I'll give you the information you want."

Gaz's eyes opened in shock as he looked at the man he was supposed to be interrogating.

"You're lying-"

"I have no reason to lie to you, Beautiful, especially after this lovely treat you've already given me..." he thrusted up into him, making Gaz squirm in front of him as he put his hands out on Y/n's chest to steady himself.

"Fuck me..." was all Gaz said before using the last of his remaining strength to fuck himself on Y/n's cock, rolling his hips every now and then to relieve himself.

Gaz lifted his hands to Y/n's, grabbing them and leading them to rest on his ass before wrapping his own arms around Y/n's neck and grab his hair and pull him into a kiss.

Gaz's pace quickened as he bounced up and down on the man's cock before finally slamming himself back down and feeling Y/n feel him up.

The Sergeant gripped Y/n's scared shoulder as he looked at him and leaned in close just before their lips touched.

"You owe me that information, Y/n..."

Y/n, slightly annoyed that he didn't receive a kiss, obliged anyway.

"Let's redress at least-"

"Info. Now." He said sternly.

Y/n sighed but smiled and told him while trying to make each sentence as lengthy as possible, even adding extra information to make sure he stayed inside the Sergeant for as long as possible.

"Good boy," Gaz said as he watched Y/n face light up at the nickname.

"Why thank you, Beautif-"

Y/n groaned as Gaz decided to full unsheath himself from Y/n, watching the way some of his release slipped out of Gaz or was either still connected too Y/n member with a thin string.

Gaz huffed out a laugh as he tried to walk but ended up falling back on top of Y/n.

"Damn you..." Gaz said as his legs refused to work.

"You know you don't have to keep me in these chains, Beautiful... I'll tell you everything about the people I work for if you'll have me," Y/n grinned up at him, hoping he'd accept his offer.

"As lovely as that'd sound, I can't..."

Y/n looked at him in confusion before watching Gaz bring up one of his hands.

A simple silver band hugged his ring with a blue line going through it. He glared at it full of angst as he could only wonder who had claimed Gaz. As he did so the Sergeant on top of him chuckled a bit, before sitting up to look at him with a glint in his eye.

"So, ever heard of the C.L.A.W.S?"

°

°

°

I DEFINITELY did not expect to finish this today but I did...

So yeah!

If you enjoyed this please feel free to REBLOG using the TAGS

Tags help make navigating yalls Tumblr pages easier

Thank you for reading!

-Guards

[givepie]

Hm! I feel a rant coming on! Everyone duck!

MY THOUGHTS ON THE HYPERIA STORY AND ITS THEMING. ALSO A GENERAL RANT ON COASTER THEMING.

Let start with a general question: what counts as theming?

To me, theming is the set pieces, pre-show, and anything laid out in a rides area to help develop a story. Most of the time this helps world-building more than anything. To me, even music can be a piece of theming because it helps to set a tone. For example, when riding Smiler, the laughter sounds almost manic and it makes you realise straight away that something is off, before you even step foot into X-sector.

Anything that DOESN'T fall into this classification such as website and app pages, falls into "storytelling". In a theme park, it is almost impossible to tell the entire story from one repeated instance inside of said story. To tell a complicated story like that of the Smiler, it would take so much exposition, which is very much not the point and would take away from the experience as a whole.

So storytelling isn't a bad thing, it's how they handle it.

To me, there are three behemoths of theme park theming and storytelling worldwide. That I know of.

Baron 1898, X-Sector post-Smiler, And Forbidden Valley post-Reborn.

Baron 1898 is pretty easy to grasp while you're there, even as a non-speaker of the language. You're going on a mine tour and 3 ghost ladies are PISSED that you're going down there. The actual theming is downright impressive ans I would love to see it in real life. You can then look up the story to find out who the ghosts are, who the Baron is, and how the mine came to be. Really good treat for people who decide to look.

Forbidden Valley has a story that has remained relatively consistent throughout the years. It has wondering actors that establish the world in a realistic yet entertaining way rather quickly. There are an official operation; there are people opposing the operation so there is something sneaky going on; there is a tour group taking advantage of the centrepiece so the Alien is a tourist attraction in this universe, too. Just little things that help put together a bigger picture.

Of course this starts coming apart a little bit when the audio starts explicitly telling you what is happening, but it still holds. You see someone's office, a crashed helicopter, weapons for warding off the alien. All things to help build up this universe you are now ankle-deep in. And then there's the 3 pages on the Internet that break down the story for you, which can also be seen in the shop.

Finally, of course, there's X-sector. It doesn't usually have roaming actors, and the theme suits better that way. Without the roaming actors, you see that the Ministry are secretive. Trying to stay out of the limelight, except for the skeleton crew they send out to keep the coaster safe and operational. It shows a tone.

However, people casually wondering what this is about can never get an easy answer. Cause the answer is spread out across what remains of a decade-old marketing campaign. Fun for people who want a deep dive, not so fun for people who are just lightly curious. The website barely tells you anything either.

But, on a positive light, the story is so complex it keeps a fandom. Not many coasters have that. It's an insane accomplishment.

And I have a theory as to why. Now, stay with me here I think I'm about to upset some people:

It has aspects of social and political commentary. "Not everything is political" ALL GOOD ART IS A COMMENTARY ON THE TIMES AND CIRCUMSTANCES YOU WERE RAISED IN SIT YOUR ARSE BACK DOWN.

RIGHT, so, Smiler is a story about the government dedicating an organisation to keeping people artificially content to keep people compliant. What are Brits notorious for doing, in comparison to the French?

Doing fuck all. This wasn't always the case. We would riot, we would strike. Now we strike but while the other half of the country complains and just tells the strikers to sit back down and take the mistreatment. We are miserable, we complain, and we go about our day. And that's the joke. Its funny. So why bother changing it?

And if we can't be bothered changing something cause it's funny, what happens if they make everything purposefully funny? They'd never have to deal with the strikes in the first place.

The government functions off of our social compliance, which can come from making jokes at our own expense. We even see it now with our drowned-rat-faced PM as he continues to make a fool out of himself so he's funny. If he's funny, we want to see him more. That's a valid strategy nowadays.

Smiler. Is about how Keep Calm And Carry On is a stand against progress.

Smiler. Is a political and social commentary on the people of Britain. You're welcome.

Anyway!

HOW DOES THIS RELATE TO THE NEW WORLD-STAGE COASTER IN STAINES?

The problem is: it doesn't. Instead of taking inspiration from its sister park, Alton, Thorpe decided to take inspiration from Icon and its shoebox station.

Where is Fearless Valley taking place? When is Fearless Valley taking place? What point in the story are we looking at here? The issue [only issue, really] with Hyperia, is it entirely relies on storytelling and a few bits and bobs in the queue.

Remember the shortcoming in Nemesis? Where you can get a good grasp of the story without it being blasted in your ear? Yeah here they straight up tell you the story, too. The theming has BECOME the storytelling.

Next question: what is Hyperia, the coaster, supposed to be? Yes, we know the story is that a goddess called hyperia overcame her fear of the sea by building wings and escaping the island she was trapped on [for some unspecified reason. Is hyperia evil?], but what IS the coaster supposed to be?

Smiler is the Marmaliser, the machine that transforms you into a smiling advocate. Nemesis is the tentacles of the monster overtaking the metal that pins it down. Baron is the track the drill takes to get into the mine.

What is Hyperia? Are we following Her as she soars, were we stuck with Her; the Icarus to her Daedalus? Are we following in her footsteps as part of a ceremony Her followers reenact for her blessing? Are we supposed to be Her? It's never really specified.

The station is chocked full of a last-ditch attempt of theming, which in comparison with the whole lotta nothing you get from the queueline? It feels cramped. It feels cheap. It barely feels like it belongs on a stage alongside Taron, Velocicoaster and Voltron Nevera. If they didn't have the budget to do the storytelling and the theme, they should've gone for theme.

Any story with no theme feels cheap and artificial. Any theme with no story still stands out and has breathtaking scenes. If they focused more on the white-gold colour palate and maybe had a few statues around and about they could pass it as some sort of pantheon, like climbing Olympus.

I'm not gonna lie, I'm disappointed in all aspects of the Hyperia theming. It feels lazy, tacky and underwhelming when you consider Swarm is a 5 minute walk away. I'm hoping it improves at some point.

I geniunely think the stone head of Collosus is much better than anything in Fearless Valley and its inconsistencies. The Black and gold buildings feel very sleek and out of place for a story ultimately about a goddess who forged. She forged her own wings. She forged her own bravery. Shouldnt the building look a little home made? Where are the bolts? The soldering? I want to see her anvil and hammer pride-of-place, not shoved in the corner of the station.

Cmon thorpe. Get your arse in gear.

[olderthannetfic]

https://www.tumblr.com/olderthannetfic/738220559674064896/httpsolderthannetfictumblrcompost73804804026?source=share

This whole Greek thing should probably be put to bed, it's completely derailed the question from the original post, but I think the point of the previous person's defense of academics is being completely lost here, and also was in the replies to their previous anon.

They're specifically talking about historical, not present, aspects of a culture. That's why they pointed out that Greek mythology hasn't been the religion of Greece in thousands of years. I think it is more than fair to say a non-[ethnicity] academic who has spent years studying a particular part of that country or group's HISTORY likely knows more about THAT HISTORY than just a random person who is living in that country or part of that group now.

To use the Japanese example since they brought it up: Would it be controversial to say that a British/Ethiopian/Chinese/American/Argentine/etc. academic who specifically has a Ph.D. in history (or East Asian studies or whatever) and does research on 19th-century Japanese history, likely knows more about the Meiji Restoration than some random Japanese Tumblr user who does not have any educational background in history beyond what everyone learns in grade school there? I feel like hardly anyone would take issue with that, and that's a lot closer to what's being argued here, except here we are talking about an even more distant time period.

Or like, let's flip this: would non-historian Brits here disagree that a non-British academic who specifically studies, say, the English Civil War likely knows more about it than they do?

That's very very different from saying that people have a different expertise and experience of *current* aspects of that culture - where yeah, academics should respect that expertise that comes from actually living in and directly experiencing that culture (and though it's had issues with that in the past and still has some issues, IME academia these days generally tries to do that - a lot of what people who study current cultures "study" is just talking to people who live in that culture, recording what they say and analyzing that. It's not always perfect, but I think there's a bit of a strawman being made out of academics by people in some of the replies who aren't actually as familiar with that kind of study as they think they are and are drawing on cultural stereotypes, similar to the "historians hate queer people" shit that circulates on Tumblr from time to time).

(Also, let's not pretend that there isn't a history on Tumblr of people playing the game of "I know X history because I'm of X ethnicity" and no other qualifications, and then saying stuff that's verifiably wrong)

That said, even with current aspects of the culture, not all of it is created equal. Someone brought up "it's like weaboos acting like they are experts on Japanese culture" (or something like that) and yeah that's stupid, but along with that there is a big difference between someone who studies something as academic research and just watching a lot of anime, there ARE non-Japanese people who study anime both in academia, and outside of it but with similar degrees of intensity, who probably know more about *anime specifically* than your average Japanese person off the street. Most anime isn't all that "mainstream" in Japan, and it's also an art form and industry with its own convoluted history and standards and practices that require lots of specialized focus to *fully* understand for *anyone.* It's not that different from saying that like, a Japanese film studies professor who focuses on Hollywood film likely knows more about the U.S. film industry than your average American off the street.

I think a lot of how people talk about culture on here doesn't really take into account the complexities of all the different pieces that make up a culture, and that they're not all one and the same.

--

[thegeorgiatennantblog]

I think one of the strangest things about Georgia’s haters is that they, overwhelmingly non-British, have this tendency to correct Brits when Brits explain British humour to them. 

British humour is objectively just meaner than American humour. While Georgia’s haters grudgingly accept that ‘taking the piss’ is indeed a normal part of British humour, they insist that this refers only to mild, lighthearted joshing, and that anything more than this is bullying. Nope. It can get mean, but our feelings don’t actually get hurt by it, because we enjoy laughing at ourselves. Those who don’t do so are regarded as a bit pathetic. 

Brits have pointed this out to Georgia’s haters, but they nonetheless maintain that her jokes are too mean, atypically mean. Nope. If anything, I’d actually say Georgia’s jokes are atypically tame. You’ll hear infinitely worse on any UK panel show, or even walking down the average street, and the butts of the jokes easily laugh them off. 

HELLO lovely anon! Beautiful day, innit! (I mean besides the drill!)

I agree wholeheartedly 100% with you dear. Not understanding the cultural context of somebody's remark and then criticizing the fuck outta them is just insane. Yk where I come from siblings take the piss out of each other like anything. It's completely normal to call your sibling "a fckn donkey" out of LOVE. It would be insane if someone said "you hate your sister cz you called her a donkey". No bch. Similarly in some other parts of the country people call their parents in a loud lilting way starting with an "Oi". Now many outsiders might think that it's disrespectful to address your parents with an "oi" but given the cultural context it is completely appropriate.

Also I never thought that her sense of humour was too much (and I'm not even British)! The fact that you can take the piss out of your partner with them not getting hurt is a sign of a very healthy relationship the fact that you're not just lovers but also best friends. And I think it's a universal thing where you take the piss out of your besties. Take my parent's example: they're toxic af and every time one of them cracks a joke about the other disaster ensues. Because they don't (I'm gonna quote that Taylor swift lyric) "lalalala get your humour... sth sth....

As someone that has firsthand experience of what a toxic couple is (in the form of my parents) I know when I couple is NOT TOXIC!.

Also dear tinhatters: "fuck off and let people be"!

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk Anon! I love you! <3

[crepesuzette2023]

Your account is honestly such a blessing. I’ve found so many good Mclennon fics because of you it’s actually insane. Now for my ask, what are some good AU Mclennon fics ?

Thank you for asking! I already listed a few AU stories in my overall faves post, e.g., under J/P without the Beatles—but I didn't really focus on fully realized, different-time-different-place-different-everything-AU stories. Here are a few I loved:

in our house we never get bored (@backbenttulips): The Beatles live in a polyamorous marriage à la sedoretu (Ursula LeGuin). Enchanting and enchanted. Soothing.

a great threat (@pauls1967moustache). Yoko is a woman and an artist, and so is Paul. Theirs is the superior battle for John Lennon's apple. A battle for each other, really. I can't overstate how much this works for me. They compete for fame and artistic collaboration, not for anyone's half-hard dick. This feels like the real Paul/Yoko dynamic in many ways.

@saint-mona: You Gave Me the Word. 1958. John is troubled after his mother's death, and befriends Paul, a bookstore owner who shares a past with Julia. Paul and John become friends—and more? Sensual and tender. Younger John & older Paul are good for each other.

snugglesweaters: You Might As Well Arsk: Hilarious, uplifting, and profound epistolary/email modern AU, with excellent (written) supporting turns by Ivan and George. It does take a fucking village.

@dailyhowl: Sleeping Sand, Morning Moon : On the other end of the tonal spectrum, this is a long, dreamy and wintery novella about grieving London playwright Paul and Scottish village eccentric John, and their long, slow way to each other. Set in 1966. Contains a surprising core of Paul & Brian, and very interesting memories of Paul/Ian.

Only a Northern Song (@stonedlennon): 1963, Liverpool: Paul works in a record store (yes, for Mr. Brian), and John is a dock worker and poet. They find each other. A long, long time after reading this, I can still 'hear' the two of them talking to each other.

Thank you @javelinbk for pointing me to and why the sea is boiling hot (madamboogie)—a reincarnation fic set starting in the late 90's. I'm only a few chapters in, but it's interesting and different!

Speaking of: @javelinbk also wrote many great AU's: John and Paul as the two nice men at the flowershop (Double Fantasy), Paul as wealthy business man, and reluctant #1 son, with John as his hot mess driver (The Life of Riley), John and Paul as stepbrothers after Jim gets married to Mimi (Brother Dearest with the follow-up I love even more, because it's melancholy and romantic and complicated, and it has Mike McCartney: Father and Son)—but a recent favorite is Our Version of Events, in which John Lennon is introduced to Beatles fan fiction by May Pang, and has questions for Paul. Set in '71. I love how this one is both an ode to fan fiction and a damn good story (with a non-tropey ending).

I also enjoyed many AU stories by @unchaineddaisychain. For instance: You've Got to Pick Up Every Stitch (Halloween! Modern AU, Paul is John's boyfriend for the night to stick it to John's ex, very sweet morning after), We are Stardust (Brit Paul and NYer John meet at Woodstock in '69, and it's so fucking romantic), and These Nights (modern AU, slightly jaded rock journalist John unexpectedly spends a night with rising pop star Paul. Cold shower, please!)

[penny-anna]

as mentioned previously, i've been trying to get new towels to replace my old worn out ones

bought new ones the other week in john lewis. optimistically bought 2 sets. they did not work for me (too thick n soft) so i had to return them

today is the first day all week when i've not been viewing any flats so off i go!!

get down to the street and realise that it's spitting a little. this is worrying as i'm concerned that if i show up w the towels all damp they might not accept the return

for those not familiar: john lewis isn't like POSH posh but it is a nice department store and their stuff runs pricy. this is like £50 worth of towels i'm carrying in a reusable shopping bag.

realise i should go upstairs and get a plastic bag to put over them in the shopping bag so they won't get wet but i'm feeling very lazy. have another reusable (cloth) shopping bag. arrange that over them. it's barely raining anyway.

get some distance from my flat when it starts raining for real. uh oh!!

options at this point are: 1) attempt to keep the bag fully under my umbrella the whole way (tried this briefly, not tenable) 2) double back to the little supermarket and acquire a bag 3) do what i should have done in the first place and just go home and get a plastic bag

don't want to do any of those things due to aforementioned laziness. scan the street ahead to see if there's any businesses where i might procure a plastic bag that won't require doubling back. street is largely bakeries + (i shit u not) an eco friendly vegan grocery shop.

BUT WAIT!! there is also! Iceland!

for non-brits: Iceland is a supermarket chain that specialises in frozen food. they sell like ice cream n freezer dinners. they will for sure have bags.

go into Iceland and proceed directly to the self check outs. there are only paper bags :(

confused?? Iceland seems like an unlikely place to have pivoted exclusively to paper bags. flag down the guy at the self checks and ask if there are any plastic bags.

at the same moment that he answers, notice that there are plastic bags right next to the paper bags.

they are good big bags also!!

for anyone not in the know: as of a few years ago businesses in Scotland are required to charge you for single use plastic bags. this honestly makes me feel a lot better about the situation bcos like i'm a paying customer i'm buying. 1 single plastic bag. for 30p.

ask if it's ok for me to just buy a bag, guy says ofc it is. explain that i need to waterproof something. It Is Raining (he can see that it's raining)

unfortunately self check out machine scale doesn't like that i'm just buying 1 bag. guy has to come over and override the scale for me. this is a lot of hassle for a 30p purchase.

buy the bag. there's now someone waiting for the self check out. retreat further into Iceland and use a freezer as a work surface to rainproof my towels with the bag.

go outside. it is now raining even harder. loiter in the porch of Iceland for a while improving my rainproofing job.

walk securely to John Lewis. it has mostly stopped raining before i'm even halfway there. oh well.

get to John Lewis. fortunately there's a queue so i have time to un-rainproof the towels

goodbye towels :)

[magnetothemagnificent]

Have you had a late bris after coming out? Like adult converts I guess..

Happy first T btw!!!

Hi!

You don't know me, I don't know you, but you should know that asking anyone about their circumcision status is highly inappropriate. It's no different than asking a trans person if they had "the surgery". It's none of your business what my genitals look like.

Also.....coming out as trans doesn't magically make me grow a penis. I only started T a few days ago, it's going to take time for my parts to grow to a point where I feel it necessary to do a Hatafat Dam Brit (since I'll never have a foreskin to circumcise). And anyway, there's no requirement for trans men to be circumcised. But that's information I'm comfortable sharing, if you asked a different Jewish trans man this question, I wouldn't fault them for reacting much more harshly to your nosiness.

Would you drop a question like "what do your genitals look like?" to a cisgender, non-Jewish person? No? Is that because it's highly inappropriate and invasive to ask such a question? Then why is it considered okay to ask trans and Jewish people those kinds of questions?

You should never ever ask a Jew what their circumcision status is, certainly not so nonchalantly and anonymously on a public platform.

[duchessofostergotlands]

sorry if you’ve answered this before but how come you run a monarchy blog if you’re anti monarchy? i’m genuinely curious, i’ve never seen that before

I have answered it before but Tumblr's search function isn't great and it's probably time for an update. It's not as unusual as you think. There are a ton of people from Republics in this fandom who would never want to live in a monarchy themselves (come visit the fandom on 4th July lol). They're politically anti-monarchy, but they like the individuals. So I'm really not in any way unusual. But basically it was an evolving journey:

I became interested in monarchies at age 4 or 5. So clearly pre any kind of political thinking. I was mostly interested in historical monarchies - I've been obsessed with Anne Boleyn most of my life, I have a tattoo dedicated to her!

I started blogging about royals about 12 years ago so I was around 18 or 19. I wasn't massively politically active so I didn't have a strong opinion on the monarchy. I was at St Andrews at the time of William and Kate's engagement so I became quite interested in that but nothing serious. Then I was on my non-royal Tumblr (don't use it anymore) and I stumbled across an account who was saying really nasty things about Kate. This particular account was one of the few British people in the fandom at the time - it was mostly young Americans - and so they had an air of authority about them and they would say "this is what most Brits think" but it was bollocks. And then I would research other things they'd said about things like finances and realise that they were wrong about those too. There were one or two people who questioned her narrative but they weren't British and so after a couple of years of this I just had had enough and decided to create an account. I wasn't really a monarchist or an anti-monarchist. I liked William and Kate but I dislike people talking rubbish more! I had really just stumbled into this world and realised there was a place for someone who was going to provide evidence, who was going to challenge, and who could offer a different perspective on life in a monarchy. And monarchy as a system was something that had interested me since I was little so it seemed natural.

After a little bit of time I became more politically active and at that point I became anti-monarchist. It was a gradual shift so there was no moment where my mind changed but I didn't feel the need to leave anyway. Partly because it was fun. I liked blogging and I knew a lot about royals by this point, I didn't want to start from scratch in a more crowded fandom. I realised I can separate the institution from the people. I can like Kate but not think monarchy is a perfect system of governance. There are so many things that we find fascinating but don't necessarily endorse. I mean, I listen to a fuck load of serial killer podcasts but I don't think Ted Bundy was a great guy! I just find it interesting. If you've ever heard our podcast you'll know I am obsessed with corruption scandals. They're not good but I find power fascinating as a concept. But also this is just my nature. If I'm going to take a stance about a political matter I want to know as much about that as possible, I want to have considered the opposing argument and what their objections might be so I can counter them. And I found it frustrating when I saw friends of mine who generally shared my political views say stupid, incorrect things about the monarchy. Like this came later but a friend of mine once complained that they spent money on Meghan's wedding dress instead of the cladding on Grenfell which is rubbish.

I'm now in my 30s, I am at a very different place from when I started. Anti-monarchist is probably too simplistic but I've had the same bio and photo for like 5 years so I'm not changing it lol. My political view now is more pragmatic than anything else. But I've also done so much more research into the constitutional side of things than I had 5 years ago. My view now is if I could click my fingers and change our system of governance to a functioning, elected head of state without any issues of course I would. Just taking a step back it makes no sense to have a monarchy and for our head of state to be a symbol of such glaring inequality. But we can't just click our fingers. Ending the monarchy won't actually solve any problems in society but it could cause new ones. There are positives to having a monarchy, it does work to protect democracy even though it shouldn't, and so I would have to be presented with a system that keeps those positive aspects if I was to vote to end the monarchy. On a theoretical level I don't support it, it makes no sense, but on a practical level I think there are more important things, it won't be the quick fix people say it will be, and I would need guarantees about what a Republic would look like first as Brexit has shown us that we can only trust the Tories to deliver the worst possible outcomes if we leave it to them (which is what would happen).

[romilly-jay]

What is the moral of // IS there a "moral" to The Devil Wears Prada?

[Considered leaving the title in black which would be surely the most appropriate colour - erm, if black *is* a colour, but then remembered the cutting take-down of Andy's sweater in an early scene, so...]

Possibly my memory for movies-past is fading but I FEEL as though I just recently saw The Devil Wears Prada for the first time.

It's fun, of course, seeing these IMO fantastic leads in the Before years - in some cases - and knowing How It Goes. I'm thinking here of Streep, Blunt and Tucci alongside Hathaway - without intending any shade to the rest of the cast, they're not memorable to me - though one of the Friend Gang had a familiar face and I believe was later cast as one of the ensemble level team in the series Mad Men.

But it did leave me wondering What Is This Story FOR? And that question somewhat resolves itself when I realised that it's based on Lauren Weisberger's novelisation ("roman a clef"? "autofiction"?) of her real-life [miserable] experiences as the assistant to Anna Wintour.

There's not REALLY a moral, right? A woman who treats her co-workers appallingly is revealed to have - behaved appallingly to one of her co-workers, in order to save her own job. This somehow causes the AH character to quit, even though it adds no material additional insight to her knowledge of the inner workings of the MS character.

Are we supposed to believe that AH is convinced "she cares about us, really" until MS's betrayal of ST's long-suffering aide shows us: nah?

The Guardian's Peter Bradshaw - predictably - didn't like it much:

He particularly didn't like what the movie served us of Emily Blunt, perhaps because she was being asked to be a parody Brit-bitch?

This put me in mind of Tom Hardy's role in This Means War which, from my memory of it, had something of The Brit Must Fail about it (?). This article from Screen Rant certainly underlines that TH didn't enjoy making the movie - though it doesn't really explore WHY. It stops with the vague "he probably didn't connect with the material". I feel like I've read a more pointed article where he talked about feeling excluded and Not Part of the Gang (which I also recall interpreting as being to do with feeling like The Excluded Brit). But - perhaps I'm internet-hallucinating? This version of the article just confirm that he didn't like the experience and hasn't repeated it. [It avoided making the impolite and frankly Age-ist comment that TH has also Aged Out of the ideal MC age-range for rom-coms. OR HAS HE?]

"I didn't understand how you could do something which is so much fun and be so miserable doing it," Tom Hardy stated of filming This Mean War. 

Anyway, notwithstanding the lukewarm reception for her role, EB apparently had a blast making the movie //and// pretty sure it was via this role that ST ended up attending EB's wedding and subsequently marrying her sister, Felicity? May or may not be relevant. What certainly is relevant - and I've been thinking about this quite a bit recently - is that EB's life and roles transformed, she says, as a result of this particular role and, not knowing better than EB about her own life, I am very happy to believe here.

Specifically, the thing I've been thinking about is the moment that causes someone's life to change - probably it's not one moment but more than one moment, but sometimes maybe it is really that One sliding-doors event that means a person does or does not step through some kind of career enhancement portal into a Beyond.

Here's a nice Guardian article about lessons in life and writing from Hilary Mantel as told by one of her mentees - non-coincidentally taking advantage of that famous connection one more time in the run-up to the publication of her next novel. Frankly - good on her. Why not? It's not as though HM would have objected - she understood the value of the famous name and frequently exploited that on behalf of younger, less-established writers because HM was a decent human being who took a long time to become an Overnight Success and, I guess, felt motivated to open doors for others:

Anyway, basically, I've come to the conclusion that [we/I] don't watch the movie to see the characters go on a journey of moral enlightenment. I mean, there aren't many movies (are there?) that so emphatically end by putting all the characters more-or-less back where they started. Sure, AH is going for the job she originally wanted. Yes, her relationship is on rockier ground. But, essentially, it's a re-set, except that AH got away from Fashion, her morals lightly dented. What the whole sorry experience did give her was... a solid gold reference from a first rate awful - but influential - employer. This, we learn, is The World. This, we understand, is The Way.

No, the reason [we/I] watch the movie is because AH absolutely OWNS the fashion montage scene. I'd happily watch this on repeat:

Sort of a post-script because Timing - but seems that the bus ads I've been ignoring could have told me that The Devil Wears Prada Musical is opening in London in late October.

[Looked for an image of said ads - didn't immediately find one - but essentially it's a "doesn't take the bus" gag.]

The Rest is Entertainment recently discussed the attraction of musicals - namely, that the touring opportunities are £££££££££. Apparently Universal held the rights to Wicked and through being persuaded to put the musical into development, had a wake-up moment in discovering that musicals were LUCRATIVE. Not the required but expensive run on Broadway but the regional shows.

So, apparently that's why there are So Many Musicals based on movies - and the attraction for audiences is - these are known quantities for audiences who are being asked to pay hundreds of ££ for tickets. Much less likely to take a chance on something new when that kind of money is on the table. Richard Osman related this in context of John O'Farrell's decision to get involved with the Mrs Doubtfire movie, having tried original IP Something Rotten to mixed success. (Apparently to GREAT success for US high schools but wasn't ever quite able to break through on Broadway.)

This is the episode in qu from TRIE, anyway -