#lewis olden

[wejustvibing]

qualifying is always fun, so to have an extra qualifying session is mega. obviously we have to be a little bit cautious with how much running we do. but it's gonna be a real challenge for everyone here we're in the same boat. i think it's gonna be the biggest challenge in terms of a weekend, than we've had so far - lewis

[sweetestgirlintown111]

As if the McLaren drama wasn't enough NICO ROSBERG was there to watch it and then ask his divorcee what he thought of while most likely both of them were getting flashbacks to the olden days. ALSO LEWIS HAMILTON 200 PODIUM

[heartsoftruth]

LEWIS AFTER FINISHING P2 DURING THE SPRINT RACE IN CHINA | 20.04.24

Battle of the Britains? "So good! So much fun! It's the most fun race I've had in a long time. Great, great start. Particular the second phase and I was able to get alongside Lando and fight him all the way through T1 and T2. It was just; very reminiscing of the olden days and something I really really loved and enjoyed.

[enjoy-the-butterf1ies]

The Garden: A Story of a Stable Boy And a Princess- Prologue

Pairing: Lando Norris x Princess! Reader

Summary: Royalty AU. In which a small town stable boy with big dreams falls for the princess of F1 Kingdom. Will the stars align for such an unlikely pair?

Things to know: This is a fantasy/royalty AU so it’s placed in the olden times! The setting of our story is F1 Kingdom; and in replace of F1 racing we have horse racing instead. So it’s the same concept as F1 but on horses rather than cars. Each team (Mclaren, Ferarri, Alpine, Redbull, etc.) represents a different village in the kingdom. And that’s the gist of what you need to know! Hope you enjoy!

Chapter Summary: And so, our story begins in an old, rusted tavern.

Warnings: Cussing, mentions of alcohol, drinking.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Pour me another one mate!!” Cheers among the tavern were loud, guests fumbling over their feet and struggling to stay still all at once. The smell of meat and rum was enough to send the average villager into a state of intoxicated shock- but for our regulars, it was simply another Tuesday night. Laughter and shouts just from this bar were sure to be heard all the way to the castle.

Beer after beer after beer. As if it was a routine.

One group in particular, who resided in the darkest corner of the tavern (one that they had nobly claimed as “their corner” in the previous weeks) is where we start our story. A large group of the best horse racers the kingdom had ever seen- known as the prestigious Formula 1 racers.

“Come on Sir Vettel, tell us one of your tales! It would be a grand welcome to our newest guy.” Sir Lewis Hamilton said, flashing a big grin. He was the current world champion for Mercedes Village, unstoppable when he was on a stallion. And when he got alcohol in his system.

The group chimed in, agreeing with Lewis’ statement. Max Verstappen, the newest addition to F1, curiously looked between all of them. He had moved from Redbull kingdom to race for his hometown- such a young racer excited fans and clearly the team as well. Though in moments such as this, he felt particularly clueless. “Tales? As in a story?” He asked, eyeing Sir Vettel with piqued attention. Sebastian couldn’t help but chuckle.

“No, no, I could never bore you all with such things,” He protested. Sebastian Vettel was the eldest of the racers- therefore the wisest. Having served his due diligence to the sport, everyone looked up to him in that way. He was sure to go down as the best in all the kingdom. Who wouldn’t admire such a feat?

Lewis stood up and smacked his glass the table with a bang. “Nonsense!” He laughed, the rum clearly taking over. “Your stories are second to your racing. I’ll be damned if we leave tonight without satisfaction.”

“Yeah!”

“Here, here!!”

“I can raise a glass to that one!”

The crowd all cheered, fist pumping and jugs in the air. Max had never been in such an environment- he was interested as to why everyone was so adamant about these stories. Nevertheless, he couldn’t deny how much he agreed with them.

Sebastian eyed Max and smirked. “Shall I?” He asked. The man would be lying if he denied how much he loved storytelling. He shrugged. “The people do say I have a rather poetic tongue.”

Max couldn’t help but chuckle at this. “Please, go ahead,” He nodded eagerly. He was only one drink in, but it seemed they would need many more for the night to come. “I must see this.”

Pierre Gasly (a proud Alpine racer) excitedly pat Max on the back at that. “That’s more like it!” He shouted, causing an uproar of rowdiness again.

Sebastian laughed and held his hands up. “As you wish! As you all wish!!” He chuckled, bringing a proud finger to his lips. “Hush now as I begin a tale of love-“

“Love?” Max couldn’t help but interrupt. The racers all eyes him angrily at that, but Max didn’t care. “M-My apologies but you gathered us for a romance story?” Maybe he just was just tipsy, but the last thing on his mind was a sap story.

Sebastian shook his head, seemingly unbothered by the interruption. In fact, it made things all the more exciting for him. “Oh but it is so much more than a romantic story, young Verstappen. It is a story of adventure, heartbreak, horrors, dreams… and how love prevails through all.” He said proudly, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. “But, if you do not want to hear then it can wait-“

“No! Continue, continue,” Max urged, his interests getting the better of him. Sebastian smirked once again. “We have all night, do we not?”

The group clinked glasses and a few more “here, here” could be heard amongst them. “Very well,” Vettel chuckled. His eyes met Lewis’ who gave him a knowing grin.

“Our story begins in a royal garden. With a young princess and a stable boy…”

A/N: Ahh sorry this is short but I’m so excited about this one!!

[patrice-bergerons]

thanks for the tag @ullybug!

Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! Then, tag as many people as you have WIPs.

I had to cheat a little and rename some files from 'Untitled Document' but here we go-- Not all of these are things I am working on right now but they are fics I consider going back to in the medium-term, including quite a few from the olden days and a few already published on ao3 as wips

a manual for living with defeat (aka soulmate au - marcheron)

marcheron transmigration AU

take my hand (marcheron)

light as the breeze (marcheron)

but-for world (marcheron)

mermaid au (marcheron)

once upon a time (marcheron)

invisible string (marcheron)

your eyes are soft with sorrow (good omens)

00q - scotland trip (james bond)

the best thing about this town (itv lewis)

tagging @greenapricot @chawarin-panich @lemonistas @sphesphe @thankyouforbeingsowrong @siterlas - and anyone else who wants to do it! (just say I tagged you and I will)

[f1-disaster-bi]

Oooh what are these au's where Lando runs away

I realized I currently have three possible au's where Lando runs away. Although the last one isn't really him running away, but it is angst and involves Lando leaving and I have a short drabble about it from dm's with a friend so I'll leave that one out of this post but hmu if people want some werewolf pack angst....

Prince and the Pauper au

High society but olden times. Lando is the youngest child of the wealthy Button-Vettel family who are considered to be the highest of high society in their town. Jenson is a doctor, and Sebastian a philanthropist. They help a lot of the neighboring towns that are struck by poverty or cruel Lords. After Lando comes of age (21), his parents start pressuring him to marry but they won't let him marry for love. Both his older brothers, Charles and George, married for love but Lando had always been the sick child, the quiet one, the wallflower so Jenson decides that the best thing for Lando is for him to marry who they choose.

After he realises that they won't listen to what he wants or support his passions because he isn't scholarly like George or social like Charles, Lando runs away. He feels trapped in his own home and life and would rather go far away with no money to start a life of his chosing.

Pierre is a well known rogue who often steals from or blackmails rich Lords and landlords taking advantage of the less well off. He respects Jenson and Sebastian because they have funded his efforts in helping people before but he doesn't fully trust the rich after how he ended up orphaned. He is asked by Jenson and Sebastian to try find Lando and bring him (or his body if the worst has happened) home

ABO Pack au/ABO Angst au

Lando ran away from the pack he was born into the night he turned eighteen because they believed that omegas were property for marriage and breeding. His parents had arranged a mating for him to a man almost fifteen years older than him, who had put his hands on Lando before he was ever eighteen. They were abusive, and he his only chance at a better life was to run away and with the help of a beta in the pack, Lando escapes with all his documents.

A few years later, when he is twenty and finally gets enough money to go to university, he meets Max and Charles. The two omegas take a liking to Lando, and start to invite him to their pack that is run by unmated pack leaders Lewis and Ferando, and has Alex, George and Daniel as well. Lando slowly accepts them as pack and moves into the pack house but never discloses his full past to any of them....except Daniel who he later starts to secretly court.

When Dan is away, Lando thinks he spots someone from his past and grows anxious. When he attempts to seek out comfort from the pack, they all seem to be having a bad day and snap at Lando. They shove him away, tell him he's annoying or a nuisance, to leave tham alone because "some of us have jobs and aren't burdens to the pack" when Landos the only left in uni. The final straw is Lewis, the pack alpha, looses it when Lando accidentally breaks something and uses his alpha voice on Lando, calling him useless and telling him to get out of their sight because they don't want to look at him.

It just completely sends Lando into a spiral, and when everyone is asleep, he runs away, determined to start again and not hurt the pack anymore than he already has, not knowing that there are things in the dark waiting to hurt him.....

[umlewis]

lewis hamilton is interviewed on media day, belgium - july 27, 2023 (transcription under the cut)

Interviewer: "We're at the halfway point of the season. Even though Max won by quite a big distance last time out in Hungary, if you compare where you were in Bahrain to where you are now, can you count on genuine progress?" Lewis: "I don't know how far he won in… Bahrain? It was probably of a similar distance, probably? But I definitely feel, within the car and within our little world, we have definitely progressed a huge amount and been much happier in the car." Interviewer: "In terms of yourself getting the pole again-obviously meant a lot-you said afterwards maybe you questioned whether your own form had fallen off a little bit in the last year or so. Just wonder, at any point in this period have you ever felt you'd maybe lost something you wouldn't get back, or were you always confident you could get back to your best? Lewis: "Um… I don't know. I think that's a bit of a personal question, probably don't really wanna go too much into that, but I think the last year and a bit has been difficult with the car we had, and particularly last year, just not finding myself gelling with the car that we had built and therefore just not being able to live at the potential I know I'm able to compete in. When you're hindered with the balance, and that's similar for so many drivers, and the goal is to steer the direction of the development so that you can eentually show your potential and what you're capable of, and I think through really hard work, I think we're starting to get there. And I think you've started to see that, particularly from Monaco onwards, we've had much more consistent performance, and then the pole position we had in the last race really felt very, very reminiscent of the olden days for me, so that gives me hope that we're going in the right direction. Hopefully the same for our team."

[marine-indie-gal]

The Jabberwocky is One of the Popular Fictional Creatures in a Children's work of Lewis Carroll's "Alice in Wonderland" series. In the Poem of his First Appearance, a King fears of his Son (who is a Knight) to slay the Dragon Beast (known as "Jabberwock") but even if the King's Son was unaware of this Dangerous Slithery Beast with Wings, the Knight managed to slay the Head of the Beast when it first approach to him.

Since Classical Fairy Tales were a thing during the Olden Days of Dark Eras, there would always be some form of stories of the trope in which Heroic Knights slaying Monsters (even for the sake of rescuing a Damsel) was a total popular thing since in Ancient Times of stories (example being the Myth of Perseus). 

I wanted to make my own interpretation of the Jabberwocky a Feathery type by giving him the Bird Wings and even Bird-like Legs and even a Feathery bottom tail in the End. Surprisingly enough, this was indeed by the Tim Burton films' adaptation of the Alice stories but a lot of Adaptations don't tend to acknowledge the vest he always wears, even though there are some adaptations to the Alice stories that do acknowledge it.

The Jabberwock "Jabberwocky" (c) Lewis Carroll

[simon-x-billy]

Simon x Billy

Year of the OTP: June

Chapter 6: Where’s the helipad?

June prompt: Soulmates

AN: Enjoy the sweet sweet sounds of helicopter blades slicing through the air. I love the helicopter scene so much. It is happy-making. It just makes me love both of them for each other. (Let's ignore the fact that I wrote it.)

We are so close to the sex, guys. So close. This is the last SFW chapter for a while. Bask in the virginal dude-bro vibe, and let people know that you read the chapters before they were cool.

TW: Rewrites. Mystifyingly late posts. Drunkenness. If alcohol is triggering for you, no need to read the last teeny section after we first meet Barry. Rest assured that Simon gets home safely and says cute stuff, then happily goes to bed.

Masterlist || ao3 || Prev || Next

————/Simon/————

I am trying to stop thinking about falling to my death. Give me a minute.

Ok, so this is…………This is a long flight of fucking rickety, wind-blasted wood. Not like that metal set of stairs with all the switchbacks I was complaining about last time I encountered stairs. I take all of my complaints back about that place. That was the height of stair-building technology by comparison. This place is just…..language fails me, like I’m picturing the stairs failing me any second now.

Shush, I need to concentrate.

————/-/————

Oh my fucking god. I can’t breathe. Metaphorically kissing the ground due to sheer survival has become a feature of my stay here. Just cuz I survived. So much ground kissing happening in Italy. Especially near stairs.

So from the size and schmanciness I’m guessing this place was either for a huge schmancy family, or hardcore party animals needing lots of bedrooms (the olden days version). This coastline has been a summer getaway spot for centuries. Scratch that. For millennia. What, like maybe three thousand, four thousand years?

But actual beaches are rare here. Anybody with two inches of it will stick a beach umbrella in it. So imagine owning an entire beach. Right? Beside the hotel, the only other possible access is from the water. And there are a lot -- I mean a lot of yachts around here. They will never, ever look normal to me. But they’re starting to look like a normal thing around here. And I’m told these aren’t even the big ones. Fuck me sideways.

Both shots are from the website of the actual Hotel La Tonnarella, which is the hotel I based my fictional hotel on. Yes, it really looks like that. Yes, I did stay there. Totally worth going into debt. Best decision I’ve ever made. You can faintly see the stairs, at left. It’s that pale diagonal line down the cliff from the hotel at top left down toward the beach, crossing right in front of that ruin in the middle, halfway down the cliff.

Anyway, we’ve seen the (only) road and there’s definitely no place for me to do my morning run. It doesn’t even have a shoulder. I guess if I can’t run without going airborne off a cliff, I could do the steps when I wake up. Better than nothing. It’s just-

Well, we’ve seen that I hate stairs. Steep stairs. Cliff stairs.

Fuck. Besides being terrifying, it was tiring just getting down here. What am I going to do when I have to go back up?

Anyway, Billy’s working down here today. And I really feel like disrupting his job well done.

“Will yeh take a look at yer man now. Down the beach, explorin,” he calls, as I approach the hotel’s tiny beach bar. “You didn’t take the stairs, did yeh?”

“Um, yeah? Certo. I wanted to see the beach.” Obviously.

“Why didn’t yeh take the lift?” he asks me.

I fix the man to his spot with a very frowny, very deep, “Would you mind repeating that, Billy?” Exactly like if Kronk was playing me in the movie. I can barely see through my eyes that have now narrowed to slits of disbelief and distrust and discomfort. “There’s an elevator?”

“Well, yeah man. How else are people meant to get down here? The cliff’s a dangerous way down, innit?”

It’s ok, Lewis. You can incorporate this new information without flipping out. Just be proud of yourself for facing your fears. You descended steep, unsafe stairs. Good job! And you were only vaguely terrified the whole time. Good job!

“Is the cliff so dangerous that they should close it down due to the mounting death toll? Or is it only dangerous in an inoffensive, cute way?”

He huffs out a quick laugh, then returns to slicing up lemons.

“Billy? That was an actual question. Care to provide an answer?”

“Meh, it’s safe enough,” he says. And that, ladies and gentleladies, is all I need to convince me I can indeed use this as my new Italian Morning Exercise. 1. Cliff, 2. Coffee, 3. Cliff, 4. Vomiting coffee. Perfect.

————/-/————

I’ve spent all this week forging a grudging relationship with the beach stairs.

I’m getting a little more accustomed to it. I have a few specific stones and broken twigs I’ve chosen as landmarks, whenever I require reassurance that I am indeed climbing down the right cliff. And if I’ve survived it the last four mornings, I can survive it a fifth time. Flawless reasoning.

Behind the beach bar, Billy spots me and gives me a wave. “You packed, man?”

My insides instantly start fizzing. I am so fucking stoked. I got us an airbnb in Naples for the weekend so we can check out Sabina’s gig tomorrow night. Billy could not say yes fast enough. He’s a social guy, and there’s not a lot of nightlife around here. I have no idea how he’s managed it all this time. Oh wait, that’s right. He’s managed it with women. Lots of women.

Over the last week, I’ve come to the realization that management does not mind a guest hanging out at the bar distracting their employee all day, because while that guest is distracting the employee, he is also ordering drink after frothy fruit-based drink, and healthy fruit-based foods. It’s like they’ve realized that my distraction of Billy might actually be lucrative for them. I even have my own barstool. Officially.

I have an announcement to make. “I have come to a decision,” I announce. “We need a convertible.”

“Sorry?”

“A convertible. We need one,” I repeat.

“Yeah, mate, heard yeh.”

“What, it’s a convertible!”

Billy remains unmoved. “Why can’t we take the train? It’s simplest-”

“We are not taking the train.”

“But I quite like the train,” he claims.

“Because you’re insane and don’t like convertibles.” J’accuse!

“See now, I never said I don’t like convertibles. I-“ he begins.

But I totally interrupt him. “I need to go do something.” Because my brain just exploded with potential.

“What?” He might be alarmed.

Whereas I’m enthusiastic. “Be an Ugly American.”

“Er, that sounds terrible,” he says.

“If you’re gonna be American, you might as well own it. Watch me own it, Billy, watch me.”

Oddly, Billy still looks wary. “That sounds-”

“Awesome.”

“-terrible. You’re not plannin to wear one of them caps with straws into beer cans, are yeh?” He snorts at whatever he’s picturing. “Actually, I might pay yeh to do that.”

“Nah. Not my brand,” I say, sliding off the barstool. I snag an olive and pop it in my mouth, to avoid grinning like someone who grins because they’re about to do something awesome. “Ciao, Beelee.” I wave behind me.

I’ve got the phone out and I’m already dialing before I’ve even reached the stairs. And then I remember I can also take the elevator.

———/-/———

Billy has finally met up with me at the fountain by the hotel entrance. Thank god, cuz I really don’t want him to miss the arrival of that Ugly American thing that required a phone call. Ever notice there’s an ugh in ugly? Just occurred to me.

“There you are, Delaney. MWAH hah ha ha hahhhhh! Prepare to hear the sweet sweet sound of helicopter blades pulsing through the air. It’s done, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”

“Simon-”

“So where’s the helipad?” I inquire.

“The what now? Mate, it’s not that kind of hotel. Why are we taking a helicopter to Naples?”

“The correct response would normally be ‘because we can’-” Obviously. Certo.

“That is not a normal response.” Billy looks mystified, yet still amused. So that’s a thing.

“-but not this time,” I finish. “That’s not the real idea.”

“Oh, so you’re tellin me this is a superfluous helicopter. That is ugly.”

“No! It is most definitely not superfluous.”

“Your carbon footprint’ll be spendin all eternity in hell, man.”

“Billy.”

“Simon.”

“Stop talking. And just enjoy the mounting anticipation. The mellow sense of horror, or at the very least a nasty case of creeping dread. MWAH hah ha ha hahhhh!”

“Stop it, mate. You’re gettin evil genius all over my uniform. And you know how I feel about laundry.”

“Just a little bicarbonate of soda. Gets out even the most organic of stains. MWAH hah ha ha hahhhhh.”

“Simon.”

“Billy.”

“Stop talkin. Like an evil genius. We’re gettin complaints.”

“Are not.”

“From me. I’m complainin.”

“What am I going to wear?” I ask. It’s a fair question.

“Simon. Oh my god.”

“I’m serious! I packed for Italy in ten minutes. It’s all socks and shorts.” And sunblock. And chargers.

He’s shaking his head at me. For some reason, this makes me happy. In my tummy. How novel.

“Is that the fire alarm?” he asks.

“Huh? I mean, MWAH hah ha ha haaaah, oh no. What you’re hearing is the sweet sweet purring of a helicopter bearing my booty.”

“You didn’t think that one through, mate.”

“Oh, but yes, yes I did. This booty is worth baring. Can you feel it? The heady excitement of anticipation? The mellow terror?”

“Yes. I feel the terror,” he says blandly. He finds my terror bland.

Wait. “That would be the best cologne flavor ever. Mellow Terror, by Simon Lewis. Pour homme.”

“Are you manic right now?”

———/Billy/————

I was joking, but Simon just went very still. I’ve put my foot in, haven’t I?

“I am a bit manic, am’nt I?” he offers, tossing off a fake laugh.

“Somethin wrong with your shoes, mate? Simon, man, my eyes are up here.”

“Just wait til you see what I’ve done,” he says sheepishly, eyeing me from under his furry eye caterpillars.

“Simon. Should I be worried?”

“Oops?”

Oops? I haven’t a clue what to do with oops.

He grabs me excitedly by the forearm and starts dragging me toward the hotel gates.

That’s…Wait, is that-

“Simon. Did you buy a Mini Cooper?”

“A convertible Mini Cooper.”

“But why?” I ask the reasonable question.

“Because I can!” He’s practically vibrating. I can tell he wants to do his jumping-clapping thing by the way he’s currently bouncing on his toes.

“Simon.”

“Billy.”

“You bought a Mini Cooper. Convertible,” I swiftly add. “You’re in the land that built the Maserati, the Lamborghini, the Ferrari, and every other sports car that ends in i-”

“Not Audi.”

I huff in annoyance, “-and you bought a convertible Mini Cooper. And had it airlifted here. Because you could.”

“I’ve always wanted a convertible Mini Cooper.”

“But not a convertible Ferrari,” I clarify.

“No.”

“Who are you?”

“I’m awesome,” he answers, because he’s Simon.

I decide not to mention that we could have skipped the car altogether and taken the helicopter to Naples.

This is so childish, and impetuous, and reckless, and I refuse to find the actions of a grown man adorable. Jaysus.

“Oh my god!” he squeaks. “They were driving Minis in The Italian Job!!!”

Shaking my head. Just shaking my head. “Did you have them airlift in some clothes, too?”

“Shit! I totally should have!” He appears to actually mean that.

“You should see your face,” he hoots. Feckin hoots, all half bent over from laughin.

And now he’s ignoring me. Suddenly I’m not even here. He only has eyes for his Mini. “Oh my god it’s so kawaii.”

His smile is kawaii.

“Go away,” he flaps a hand at me. “I want to fanboy freely and without judgment from a judgy Irishman.”

“Fine. I need to pack anyway.”

And off behind me I hear him call, “Wait! What am I gonna wear?”

Shaking my head. Just shaking my head.

————/-/————

I’ve gathered my gear, and I can see Simon out by the car park. I’m hitching up my pack, so it isn’t really until I’ve cleared all the foliage that I realize Simon is humping his Mini Cooper convertible. “All right?” I ask, tryin to keep a straight face.

“Oh, yes. All is definitely right,” he purrs.

“Have you turned her on, too?”

He slides off the car til his Converse hit the pavement with a slap.

Now he’s draping himself over the boot. I can’t help it that I’m laughing. Sometimes he hits me just right to set me to belly laughin. Doesn’t happen often with Simon, but when it does, he wears the greatest surprised happy face I’ve ever seen. This time there’s giggling. Off to a good start, which is good. Yes. Good.

I hesitate. “Look, mate. Will this thing actually fit us?” I eyeball the car. “I am quite seriously concerned that we might actually need the top down to ride in this thing. How tall are you, anyway?”

“Six feet. Why? How tall are you?”

“Mate, get off the boot so I can shove this in there and we can go.” He does, and I do.

I have to say it, “Thanks for not getting the red, white, and blue one.” There is a god. Thank you, Poseidon.

“They were out of orange, white, and green, too,” he says with regret.

“You asked about the tricolor, did yeh?” Alright yes, he’s got me laughin again. Simon Lewis. Driving the Irish flag.

“Fuck out of the driver’s seat!” he’s suddenly roaring.

Blimey. He looks proper angry. I may have just flinched. “Don’t you want a car and a driver? No, serious, don’t yeh want me to drive, since I know the way?”

“Get the fuck out of the driver’s seat, Billy. Now!”

“Alright! Fine, fine. You’ll be usin GPS then, will yeh?”

“Si si si, certo.”

I groan. “This is all about to go so very-”

“Awesome,” he declares. “This is all about to continue to be awesome. Be the change, Billy. Be the change!”

“Oh my god Simon.”

“I can hear you rolling your eyes from here,” he says from behind the boot, which he slams shut a little too hard. I feel it in every moving piece of this tiny automobile. Bigger than a SMART car, so I suppose I shouldn’t be complainin.

Well, here’s hoping he’s still so enthused about it at the other end. “Gotta say, mate. I’m surprised you’d want to drive at all.”

“Why not?” he’s askin.

“Because mate, it’s Italy, innit. Famous for frightenin foreign drivers.” He has to remember what the drivin was like on our three other trips down this road. “Well,” I sigh. “At least you get to drive on the ‘right’ side of the road in Italy.”

—--/-/—--

“See? I told you you’d fit.”

“Alright man, you did,” I admit to the muppet.

“Come on, give it up…”

“What?” I’m not laughing, I promise. “Is she a smooth ride? I don’t know, man, why don’t yeh start her up ‘n find out?”

“Well there is that. So yeah,” he says as he pulls out of the car park and up to the mouth of the hotel driveway. “It’s to the left, right?”

“Em, yeah. Yes, the city of Naples is still in the general direction of left. Like the other three times we’ve done this road together.”

He rolls his eyes, and all is right and well with the world. Until the moment he pulls out onto the road. Then I’m brought up quick by the realization that between us we know fuck all about the convertible Mini Cooper. “Wait, where’s the GPS on her, for the flat’s address?”

“I dunno, check the screen thing.” So helpful, yer man Simon is.

“Do you even have an Italian driver’s license? Or insurance? I love this guy. How’ve yeh managed to live this long?” I pause for an answer, but none is forthcoming. “I mean, fucksake, Simon. You called someone to buy you a car and suddenly you’re on the road to Naples. Do you even know where the directionals are? Or like, the wipers? Should I be concerned for my safety?”

“Shoosh. Don’t jinx us,” he sternly admonishes me. “Do you need to have registration in Italy? Or insurance? I don’t know. Italy doesn’t really strike me as a big insurance-y type of country.”

“Fair point. But I take it you have….whatever, I dunno, papers and all that?” How is he like this?

“Don’t know. What’s in the glove box?” He makes a flappy gesture in the general direction of my knees.

“How are you like this? Were you actually born like this, or did it come with fame and wealth?”

“You mean, was I actually born a flaming asshole, or just become one?”

“Meh. Yeah ok,” I shrug. “We’ll go with that. So, what’ll it be?”

“Ow. Straight for the throat, Delaney.” His tone is recriminating as he protects his throat with both hands. “Uncool, man. Uncool.”

I’m flipping through the owner’s manual. Before long I’ve programmed everything, located the GPS, found Simon’s Only In Italy playlist, and even found the button to pop the bonnet. “There you go. It’s workin now.” I toss the manual in the glove box.

“What’s working?” he asks.

I shrug. “Everything, man. Everything.”

He barks out a laugh, the grumpy fuck, and I realize I’m laughing as well.

I plug in the address for the flat and immediately the voice pumping out the speakers is a woman speaking Italian. So I’m maniacally fumbling with it again, while Simon drives on in a fit of laughter.

“Aw, come on! Let’s see how we do in Italian,” he gasps out.

“Fucksake. See how we do in Italian.” Shaking my head.

“No, seriously. Let’s hear what she has to say, this ummmmm, what should we call her - Maria! Because obviously.”

“Certo.” That gets me another laugh.

“Santa Maria, Holy Madonna, show us the way, in Italiano,” Simon pleads in a truly horrendous Italian accent. “I am so happy right now.”

He says it with a laugh. Such a thing to so easily roll off the tongue. Fella I met a few months ago, I never would have pictured bein happy, let alone noticing it, naming it, declaring it. Nice to see. Unexpected, know what I mean?

“I don’t trust you when you’re quiet that long, Delaney.”

“Hm?”

“Exactly.”

Am I missing something?

“Ok, so.” He clears his throat. “We know who I am. Who are you? Let’s hear it. Who is Billy Delaney?”

Aw, man. Serious? “How long we got?” Please don’t make me.

“How would I know?” he shrugs. “Maria’s speaking your language, not mine.”

“Fair enough.” I hit play, hoping the music will make the conversation trail off from there. But of course it doesn’t, because this is Simon. Si. Certo.

“What. Do you have some horrible second identity thing going on? Are you really even Irish? Truth time, Delaney.”

“You show me yours, I’ll show you mine?”

“Yeah, ok,” says the cheeky monkey.

“Oh,” I answer, not sure how else to dodge Simon’s inquisition. Uh, erm….. “Soooo, what mate? What do you want to know?” I ask, though truthfully I wish he’d just let it go.

“Is your name really Billy Delaney, and are you actually even from Ireland at all?”

“Yes.”

“Boring.”

“Brief,” I counter.

“Obtuse,” he counters.

“Si.”

“Oh my god, Billy. So where are you from?”

“Ireland.”

He looks around us rapidly. “Is she going to start speaking Italian? Cuz we just passed Ercolano.”

“Already?”

“Yeah! I know, right? Time flies when you’re torturing someone for information. So should I panic?”

“Nah,” I reassure him. “We've a bit more road before we turn aside. Maria can sleep on.”

“Alright. But I swear to God, Billy. If you don’t start coughing up some details, I'm serious, I will pull this car over. Do I have to pull this car over, young man?”

“Wow, that’s forceful.” Cos it is. “Ow!” I flinch when he swats my shoulder with a backhand. “Fine, ye bastard. My name is actually Lola, but I go by Billy Delaney. And I’m only mostly joking. One of the summer cousins I used to play soccer with couldn’t say William when we were little. So for a few months every year, I was Lola. There. Was that not juicy enough for yeh?”

“Charming. But from that I got these few details: 1. You have cousins. Conceivably fertile ground. We could continue that way. 2. You play soccer, and you call it soccer. Isn’t that illegal outside the US? No- don’t answer that. I’m not finished. 3. You go someplace where there are cousins to play soccer with in summer. Are we even still in Ireland?”

Em. I just sort of sit here and wait.

“And you really don’t want to talk about this, do you?”

“You are so easily distracted,” I tease. “No, but seriously, here’s some details for yeh. I’m 27. Left Ireland at 18, after graduating culinary school, and was sent out to do my apprenticeship. That was at a manor house near Galway,” I say, wrapping up the conversation.

“And…..”

“That’s not enough?” I thought that was a fair bit of information, to be honest.

“Do I have to turn this car around, young man?”

“I fear I might be missin some essential cultural reference here, mate.”

“Don’t distract me with your distractions, Delaney. Feed me.”

And that’s when Maria tells us to turn left.

—--/Simon/—--

I can’t fuckin believe that there are Irish pubs in Italy. Nor can I believe I’m in one. I mean, where do real Italians go to watch soccer? This can’t be right.

“All right?” Billy asks the bartender.

“Howeyeh,” says the man back to him, and Billy’s eyes go comically wide.

Next thing I know, I’m bored stiff, pretending to find the intricacies of European football interesting with a Welsh guy named Barry.

And whoa, turns out Billy’s day-to-day accent is pretty washed out in comparison to the thickness of his accent when he’s speaking to his new BFF. They’re speaking so fast that I can’t understand a word through their accents and grammatical errors. Welsh is so much easier.

That is, until I hear a voice disturbingly similar to Billy’s, requesting a Bud.

I swing back around in time to see Billy’s new BFF nod at him and begin turning toward the draft beers.

“No! Wait,” I wave. “He’s only joking,” I say, emphatically shaking my head no.

“Oh,” the Irish bartender looks back to Billy in surprise. “Were you?”

What, he thinks I’m lying? “Course he was! Certo.”

“Why ‘of course’?!” Billy turns on his barstool to face me. “What the fuck, Simon?”

“Sorry if I fucked up your joke, dude, but don’t drag it out, ok?” I say under my breath.

Disparaging other people’s beer of choice is like a national pastime in Brooklyn, because it frequently employs irony, and we are naturally good at it from birth. Don’t blame him, he’s new.

“I’ll take that Bud,” Billy reiterates. “Ta, mate.” The barkeep returns his nod and goes about the business of it.

“Billy? We’ve talked about this. You swore you’re Irish. Were you lying to me? Are you a lying liar who lies?”

“Why do yeh say that?”

“Because you can’t – you’re not – you’re not, like, allowed to drink bad beer when you’re Irish. Isn’t that illegal? Or fatal, or something?”

The big ape is just lazing back against the bar, sipping his pint of piss beer, looking at me in amusement.

“You’re like a caricature of yourself sometimes, Simon, d’yeh know what I mean?”

“Fuckin- What?! That’s not very nice! I’m outraged.”

“You should see yerself, mate. Yeh look like your face is about ready to split down the middle and outrage’ll start pourin out like lava from the fissures.”

I stop and cock my head at him. “That was both specific and descriptive. Nice one. But that said, how dare you! I demand an apology.” I’m trying really hard to keep a straight face. He has no intention of making it easy for me.

“Apologize? For what?” He gives me a cock-eyed grin. Oh look, his cock eyes are doing that twinkly thing again.

“You have offended my good taste and have let down your countrymen and native soil. Or water or whatever it is that makes all beer taste better in Ireland. The least you could do is the decent thing and apologize to your countrymen, and me, and then hide it in your jacket where no one can see you sneaking sips!”

He laughs because he thinks I’m joking.

“Do you just not like beer at all? And that’s why you don’t order the good stuff?” I prod.

“Simon, you are such a snob,” he says, and goes right on twinkling.

“Correct. And if you’re going to drink cheap beer, for god’s sake, order PBR and salvage at least some of your self respect.”

“Do you know this man?” the bartender asks Billy. “Is he harassin yeh?”

Billy is now laughing so hard that he’s almost fallen off his stool.

“We know each other,” I reassure the barkeep. “Don’t know how long that’ll last, all considered, though. Check back for updates.” I raise my pint of Guinness in respect.

“It’s czech. Budvar,” the man informs me.

“Ah, no! Why’d yeh tell him, mate!” Billy raises his hands theatrically. I’m telling you, theatre school. “Yeh just had to put him out of my misery, yeah?”

“And my misery,” says the man.

—--/-/—--

Ok, so what is it with the whole pub drunkenly singing “oh-ay-oh-ay” at the top of their drunken lungs, sloshin beer out of their pint glasses, whenever Europeans play soccer. Mebbe they sing it in Southmerica, too. Butwhatevercuz I don’ really care.

If you can’t – beat em then join em. Thassmymott, um, -o. Thassmy motto. Motto.

Where’s Billy? I can’t see him. If thissperson would get out of the frickin way. He’s all backed up against my face’n I can’t see. Anything. Nothin to see here, folks. Move along, people, move along.

Where’s Billy? Oyeah, right right right. Right here in my face.

I figure it’ll be easier to keep track of him if I hold onto his belt loop. Or a pocket or something. Yeah, I’m just gonna hang on to his pocket.

Pocket.

I like the word pocket. Lossa hard consnits that pop. Pop.

Pop.

I like the word pop. It sounz like it pops. And it’s the same backwards and forwards an’itsall about the lips. Pop ’ing.

What? Where’s he going? I’m trailing after him with my hand in his pocket. He keeps pullin it out and I keep puttin it back in. Oth’wise I’m gonna get lost and then where would I be? Huh? I wouldn’t even know!

“Oh! Now I know where we are! We’re on the block where we’re were where gonna sleep.” If make it up th’stairs. But Billy’s helping. He’s nice like that.

“You’re nice like that,” I say with a big smile. “And you‘re funny lookin.”

Wait.

“Oops! I mean yerlookin funny at me right now. Whass funny? ‘m’I funny? ‘r’Juss funny lookin?”

I crack myself up. Like in real life, cuz I’m laughing. Right now. Sometimes iss hard to stop laughing but I’ll be ok.

“Billy. Billy! Hey, Billy. What’re you doing? Tryin to get in my pants? That tickles! Oh, hey! Did we win? I mean, I don’really care - just wonren.”

Hey! Tickles! “Stop that! How’dyou know I don’t wanna wear those? I’ll take ‘em off when I feel like it. Prollymaybe take ‘em off tomorrow. Hey! I was wearing that! And that!”

He’s very pushy. “You’re very pushy. Stop pushing!”

I land on the bed and it’s like fluffy clouds of teddybears. “K, fine. I’ll go to bed, jeez.” Alls I wanna do is bury my face in pillow, but can’t breathe when I do that.

“Don’t close the door all the way, Ma. And leave the hall light on, K? g’Night, love you too.”

————/-/————

Masterlist || ao3 || Prev || Next

————/-/————

[buthowboutno]

Hello! random question alert

I know you have a playlist that the reader and Donnie made together but do you have one of the songs that remind you of them or your fic in general?

Just something I was wondering

(loved your newest chapter btw <3)

~👾

oh i fucking /love/ talking about music for this fic, i give you a little pat on the head

"Sway (Quien Sera)" by Dean Martin has this sort of playful tension in it that always makes me think of the dorks (especially with where we're at in the story) and may or may not be mentioned in an upcoming chapter. Just!!! Them dancing!!! It's very important to me!!

"Baby I'm Yours " by Barbara Lewis is the song that inspired the scene that got me to start writing for ATWLP. You know, back in the olden days when it was supposed to be just 50k words. I've mostly changed how this fic ends/is structured, but ATWLP probably wouldn't exist without me listening to this song at 2 am some random night last October.

"One Way or Another" by Blondie is another one with that playful tension and is definitely on reader's shared playlist with Leo (much to Donnie's chagrin.)

"Wolf in Sheep's Clothing" by Set It Off just seems like one of Donnie's guilty pleasure songs (because like, come on, /theatre/ kid) and one that definitely gets screamed in the Turtle Tank with reader.

"Lay All Your Love On Me" from the Mama Mia musical is also another karaoke banger for these two. (Also I forget I'm the only one that knows how my fic is gonna go lmao but this song is an apt description for how they learn to relationship.)

This is probably a longer answer than you wanted lmao, but i do be havin thoughts <3

[racingliners]

F1 Re-Watch 2013: Round 15 - Japan

I swear I'm going to finish this before the 2024 season starts

The festive season just happened and we are now weeks away from the first launch of the 2024 cars (which bruh what is the passing of time).

So I'm keeping my pre-race blurb to a minimum, which is fine because apart from Seb winning and I think Grosjean briefly leading the race, I don't remember much.

the massive "We <3 Seb" banner in the grandstands 🥺

Okay: starting grid overview! Webber on pole, Seb P2. A win for the Martian girlies (gn). Lewis P3, Alonso P8, Jenson P10 and Jev P17

the Bernie hand puppets dvhfdjbvhfdbhsfjbhf

All bar Ricciardo and Pic starting on the mediums as opposed to the hards. (Though again this was in ye olden days when the Top 10 had to start on their quali tyre)

[Formation Lap]: oooh thermal tyre cam

and the mad dash of mechanics and engineers back to the garages

god I get whiplash now seeing Domenicali on the Ferrari garage now even though I know he was TP at that point. Safe to say I'm not enjoying him as F1 CEO

A wild Sam Bird sighting next to Ross Brawn (back when he was a Merc development driver)

cars lining up on the grid, here we goooooo

[Start/Lap 1]: Not Grosjean taking the lead way before turn 1

aaaaaaand backmarker nonsense at turn 1

nooooooo Lewis dropping down the grid

oh god Seb's saying he might have front wing damage, if him and Lewis made contact is2g

[Lap 2]: Right, top 5 is Grosjean, Webber, Seb, Rosberg and Massa

and Jenson is clinging onto P10, woo!

yup, Lewis had a rear right puncture, and now the rest of the carcass has come off 😭😭😭

He stops for the hards and his now plum last

[Lap 3]: rest of the race be nice to me PLEASE

I think the main reason why I don't remember much of this race is bc I would have watched it at my friends house bc she had Sky so it would have been 5 or 6am 🥲

argh, start reply and there's the tiniest bit of contact between Seb and Lewis but it was enough to give Lewis a puncture. pain.

[Lap 4]: And a Grosjean fastest lap for funsies

damn, Bono outright saying over the radio what Lap Lewis is pitting on, that never happens but I guess bc he wasn't in contention for the win at this point trying to hide strategy doesn't matter

[Lap 5]: Respectfully Brundle I don't want to hear you try and figure out what Seb's doing, let him cook.

Oh Lewis has floor damage too fml.

[Lap 7]: For once, Seb has listened to Rocky and has dropped to 2 seconds behind Mark

Also Jenson out of the points as Raikkonen takes P10 😭

Apart from Seb this race is currently an attack on me personally

[Lap 8]: and there's Massa being told to let Alonso by

Lewis in the pits to retire the car 😭😭😭

[Lap 9]: Jenson pits for hards, it's stupidly early so he's probably going to be on a three stop

[Lap 10]: a few other cars are pitting as well so it's probably going to be a three stop race

"Engine 21, engine 2-1" I'm having Malaysia flashbacks (that was Mark's engineer Simon Rennie)

[Lap 12]: And in pits Webber! Most likely for hards

"Button's really flying along nicely!" INJECT IT!!

and slowly the race starts to turn round for me

JENSON FASTEST LAP! STOP THE COUNT!!

I've never said anything bad about F1 ever I swear

[Lap 13]: and Grosjean pits form the lead, also for hard tyres. He also comes out ahead of Webber

so WOO Seb in the lead!

oops, Rosberg had an unsafe release. Mercedes' not good quite bad 2013 Japanese GP

[Lap 14]: "When is Vettel going to come in?" Ted sounding very concerned for Seb's strategy.

[Lap 15]: Ah, and in he pits! He also has hards on and has come out in P3

"He's having quite a scruffy afternoon." The fact that Seb being in P3 and going wide once and having one lock up shown on camera counts as scruffy is frankly hilarious. That's how good he was in 2013

(that's my goat!!!!)

Also drive through pen for Rosberg. Merc's very bad rather terrible 2013 Japanese GP.

(when was the last time we saw a drive through pen be used in current F1 btw???? It feels like forever)

[Lap 16]: Seb being 4 tenths faster than Grosjean and Mark in one sector alone, this is the good place

[Lap 17]: A Seb fastest lap 🥰

[Lap 18]: What is a polar bear (Ricciardo in a Toro Rosso) doing in Arlington, Texas? (P4)

ohhhhh he hasn't stopped yet nvm

[Lap 19]: There is a queue of at least three cars behind him however

[Lap 20]: Alonso gets past Massa, but the Ricciardo train has now gained another few cars

It goes all the way down to 10th djbhdfjbhfxb

WHAT THE FUCK Hulkenberg went down the inside of 130R and made it stick.

[Lap 21]: And Alonso gets past him on the main straight.

[Lap 23]: "Multi 3, Multi 3" What does it mean what does it all mean????

I legit hear multi-anything and my eye twitches

[Lap 24]: And a Webber fastest lap! he's either prepping for his second stop or also got triggered by the word multi and bolted

also also, Seb has to make it lap 33 to make the 2 stop strategy work

FUCK Jenson had a slow stop

When does Seb take the race lead and keep it I need it now

[Lap 25]: Like the way Grosjean is still leading and it being pretty much legit, wild

A JEV FASTEST LAP?????

Well thank you racing gods

[Lap 26]: And Mark makes his second stop bang in the middle of the pit window

[Lap 27]: Seb being told he's racing Grosjean and not Mark, inch resting

and it sounds like Lotus are trying to stretch his strategy out to the 2 stop

[Lap 28]: the gap between Seb and Romain is now 1.5 seconds 👀

"Put pressure on Grosjean" Bastard Seb about to be unleashed

[Lap 30]: and in comes Grosjean for I assume is his final stop. He takes on another set of hards and comes out in P3

[Lap 31]: Seb needs to eek out a tiny bit of lap time to have a pit stop gap over Romain, which will be slightly difficult since Grosjean is on the new set of tyres

oh god not Perez having a slow stop too. McLaren be suffering

[Lap 32]: and Ricciardo nets us our third drive through penalty of the race for leaving the track and gaining an advantage.

I've seen more drive through pens in this race than I have in the past 5 years

[Lap 33]: and now everyone bar Rosberg, Vergne and Pic is on the hard tyres

[Lap 34]: Massa gets the fourth drive through pen of the day for speeding in the pitlane

somehow my Grandma will get a drive through pen despite being 91 and not having a driving licence

[Lap 36]: Seb apparently has a new set of mediums left, interesting.gif

and his gap to Grosjean is still around 20 seconds when he needs 22 in theory, but if he's going to be on the faster and fresher tyre on the end he maybe doesn't need to have a pit stop gap to him

[Lap 37]: And Seb pits!

He takes on another set of hards and comes out in third.

"That's Grosjean in front of you, go and get him." Okay now we're going to unlock bastard Seb. Cheers Rocky.

[Lap 38]: Haven't done a top 5 overview in ages: it's Webber, Grosjean, Seb, Hulkenberg and Alonso

What is a polar bear (Hulkenberg in a Sauber) doing in Arlington, Texas? (P4)

[Lap 40]: Seb is 6 tenths behind Grosjean, with a fastest lap to boot

*jaws music plays in the background*

[Lap 41]: And Seb takes P2 on the main straight!!!!

He is 14 seconds behind Mark who still needs to stop

[Lap 42]: Meanwhile Jenson has made his final stop and is back out in 14th place 🥲

[Lap 43]: Aaaaaand in comes Mark for his final pit stop

ooh for the medium tyres! and he comes out in third place

meanwhile Jenson overtakes Sutil for... P13

so the top 5 is now: Seb, Grosjean, Webber, Hulkenberg and Alonso

ouch, Perez got a rear puncture from contact with Rosberg

[Lap 45]: Webber fastest lap

He's about 5 and a bit seconds behind Seb 👀

[Lap 46]: Alonso gets past Hulkenberg for P4!!

[Lap 47]: Grosjean barely staying in P2 going into turn 1

[Lap 48]: And still Grosjean is ahead going into the first corner

[Lap 49]: 🚨5 laps remaining klaxon!!🚨

and, you guessed it, Grosjean is still in P2. Mark just isn't getting the traction he need out of the final chicane to be able to overtake him on the main straight

[Lap 50]: aaaand now Grosjean and Webber are coming into traffic

1 on 1 battles are so fascinating to watch unfold when your faves aren't involved

[Lap 51]: The way Webber is literally on Grosjean's gearbox now

[Lap 52]: of course Webber took P2 driving into turn 1 for the drama.

It was a saucy move ngl.

[Lap 53]: FINAL LAP!!!

ahem, TV feed please show me my boy

(not that Gutierrez v Rosberg isn't important. I just want to see Seb)

There he is!!!!!

[Finish]: And Seb wins the Japanese GP!!!!!!!!!!! 🥳🍾

P2 - Webber, P3 - Grosjean, P4 - Alonso, P5 - Raikkonen, P6 - Hulkenberg, P7 - Gutierrez (in what was his first ever F1 points!!), P8 - Rosberg, P9 - Jenson and P10 - Massa

Well that was a bit of a slow burn race, but it was really fun to see the 2 stop vs the 3 stop play out and have a proper on track battle between the top 3 cars.

Next race - India 🥹

[fdcwasright]

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[ultraheydudemestuff]

Underwood Farms Rural Historic District

State Route 73 and Brimstone Rd.

Wilmington, Ohio

The Underwood Farms Rural Historic District on Ohio Route 73 just west of Collett Road (County Route 232), near Wilmington, Ohio, in Chester Township, Clinton County, preserves 280 acres of landscapes and sixteen buildings depicting rural life in Clinton County from about 1838 to 1955. The District encompasses the Amos-Elihu-Daniel Underwood (“west brick”) and Zephaniah Underwood (“east brick”) farms, and the Zephaniah and Matilda Underwood house (the “Tower House,” circa 1884), along with the Jonah’s Run Baptist Church. The District was listed with the National Register of Historic Places on January 11, 2005,

Lewis Dakin bought this property from James Haines in 1850, and built a house known as the "west brick" or the Amos-Elihu-Daniel Underwood Farm with barn and outbuildings, soon afterward, c. 1853. Amos Underwood (1786-1867) from York County, PA, first settled in Liberty Township and then purchased this property in Chester Township, Clinton County, Ohio. The Underwoods were Hicksite Quakers attending Meeting in Harveysburg. His son Elihu continued in the farming and fruit business. His grandson Daniel married Wilhelmina Hahn in 1902, continuing the family business until his death in 1942. Underwood family members lived in this location for about 100 years.

The Underwoods were farmers and, like other farmers in the area, raised corn, oats, and wheat and had a dairy operation. They also raised chickens, pigs, and sheep. However, the Underwoods were famous for their orchards, none of which, unfortunately, have survived. Zephaniah Underwood had 70 acres of his farm in orchard with apples. The apple orchard was the central focus of the family activity on the farm and successful business. Known as the "east brick," the Zephaniah Underwood Farm (James Dakin House) with barn and outbuildings, was built around 1846-1850. It is a two-story five-bay brick Federal style house with a two story ell. Directly behind it is a historic fruit barn that was associated with the Underwood Orchards.

The Underwoods were famous for their commercial apple orchards, although like other farmers raised a variety of crops and livestock. Tower House Farm, or "The Zephaniah and Matilda Underwood House," with barn and outbuildings, built between 1884 and 1886, is an excellent example of the "Stick Style.” The Zephaniah and Matilda Underwood farm includes a circa 1900 brick fruit storage building, insulated by sawdust. The Underwoods were leaders in other areas. Matilda Downing Underwood (1851-1932) was a Quaker minister and active in the temperance and women’s suffrage movements. Matilda’s sister, Maria Downing Romine (1848-1922), was a medical doctor, a pioneering career for women of her time.

The Underwoods were active members of The Society of Friends (Hicksite). They attended Grove Meeting in Harveysburg, a meeting that was a Preparative Meeting of Miami Monthly Meeting in Waynesville. Both Zephaniah and Matilda Underwood were active supporters of Quaker meeting and issues such as temperance and suffrage. Matilda Downing Underwood was a recognized minister in Grove Meeting of Friends. She was also an author. She wrote: Blue Bell of the Forest: A Story of the Olden Time, in the Middle West (published by the author in 1919) and her Autobiography (unpublished).

[radiopopstand]

Popstand This Weekend!!

With a title of ‘When I’m Sixty Four’, Radio Popstand is on the air this weekend with those multi genre tracks.

But why the title ‘When I’m Sixty Four’, you may be asking? Well, it’s a song written way back in 1967 by Paul McCartney in preparation for Jeffrey’s 64th birthday, which occurs in 2023. Really good of Mr McCartney to write such a song just for me.

My word is Jeffrey really that old? So as a result of this momentous occurrence Radio Popstand will be playing rather a lot of songs from way back in the olden days, the olden days when he was not so old.

But don’t worry there’ll will still be some newer or even brand new tracks, we like to keep up to take here on Popstand, as well as playing the older stuff.

So the oldies come from Lulu and the Luvvers, Neil Diamond, Prefab Sprout, Anthony Newley, The Who, Mike Oldfield, The Rubettes, Cilla Black, Thin Lizzy, LaBelle, The Boomtown Rats, Supertramp, Jimmy Osmond and that’s only a few of those artists from yesteryear.

More up to date artists include Macklemore & Ryan Lewis, KennyHoopla, Dimension, Rita Ora, Disclosure, House of Pain and there are more.

Listen to Radio Popstand today, Saturday, 18:30hrs BST (17:30hrs GMT) and tomorrow, Sunday 08:30hrs BST (07:30hrs GMT) on the Stationhead app, as Jeffrey contemplates the number 64! Don’t forget to link your Spotify or Apple Music premium account to hear the music.

Jeff Wright, 20th May 2023

[colleendoran]

The Secret Language of a Page of Chivalry: The Pre-Raphaelite Connection

Adapting Neil Gaiman’s Chivalry is a decades-long dream fulfilled. The story as text can be enjoyed on multiple levels, and so can the art. You look at the pages and see the pretty pictures, but the pictures also have meta-textual meaning. Knowing this secret language adds to the experience.

Some people pick up the references quickly, but I’ll share with you some more of what’s going on under the surface.

In Ye Olden Days of Art Making, most painters made pictures that contained visual narrative cues. Flowers in a picture might be heraldic signs that signaled political affiliations, or could indicate purity, anger, or love. Purple was the color of kings. A dog in a picture might represent faithfulness, and butterflies could represent the soul.

There are Pre-Raphaelite paintings with so many symbols and ideas in them that you need a deep working knowledge of Victorian and Edwardian social mores to understand what’s going on.

For example, Ford Madox Brown’s Work, a painting which took some 13 years to complete, was first exhibited in 1865 with a catalogue explaining all its symbols and elements. There is nothing in that picture that doesn’t mean something.

I brought some of that visual meta-textual sensibility to Chivalry, (and I’ve written about the symbolism and meanings in the work in other essays.)

I also brought into the work direct Pre-Raphaelite art references.

From 1868-1870, Sir Edward Coley Burne-Jones created four paintings illuminating the tale of Pygmalion and Galatea, entitled Pygmalion and the Image, and wrote a poem with each line titling one painting:

The heart desires

The hand refrains

The godhead fires

The soul attains.

A perfect little poem for Chivalry, and I think of it often when some people present me with what I think is a very strange question: why didn’t Galaad just take the Holy Grail from Mrs. Whitaker?

It kind of breaks my heart that people would even ask that.

Burne-Jones painted two versions of this series of which this is the second.

In the first panel of this page, Sir Galaad kneeling before the Grail is derived from the figure of Pygmalion kneeling before Galatea: The Soul Attains.

Sir Galaad’s restraint even in the face of his greatest desire makes him worthy of his prize.

There are two Pre-Raphalite references in this page, the most obvious being in panel 2: it’s Sir John Everett Millais’s 1857 work A Dream of the Past: Sir Isumbras at the Ford.

The painting was very poorly received on first exhibition, compelling Millais to redo significant portions of it. It was caricatured and ridiculed, and then ended up becoming influential and popular, and isn’t that the way it goes.

That’s an art career in a nutshell, really.

The Sir Isumbras image also influenced John Tenniel’s illustrations for the Lewis Carroll Alice in Wonderland novels.

Sir Isumbras derives from a 13th century Medieval romance poem about a good knight whose pride causes him to fail in his Christian duty. He is presented with a series of difficult challenges before he can find happiness again, reunite with his family, and be forgiven his sins. The painting by Millais is based less explicitly on the poem than it is on a later parody of the poem. (It’s complicated.)

My using Sir Isumbras as the base for the shot of Galaad with the children is obvious here. In the Millais painting, Sir Isumbras carries a woodcutter’s children across the ford. In Chivalry, Sir Galaad carries the children of Mrs. Whitaker’s neighborhood down the street.

While Sir Isumbras spent many years learning humility and Christian duty, Galaad has a long quest to fulfill before he can achieve his goal. And on the way to that goal, he’s humble and nice to children, too.

That the Millais painting was such a huge influence on many a depiction of knighthood over the years made it a perfect reference point here, and the story behind both the painting and the poem give it further layers of meaning.

The next panel has a far less obvious reference, but the source is Arthur Hughes’s painting The Rescue.

Arthur Hughes is one of the lesser-known Pre-Raphaelites, but his art is widely seen and influential. He’s certainly been a big influence on me, as many of his paintings appear again and again in Arthuriana references, as he was a prolific King Arthur picture tale teller.

The Rescue (1907-1908) was originally part of a diptych which was separated and sold back in the 1920’s. His style was becoming unpopular by the time Hughes painted the work, and little is known about this work except that one panel was in the collection of Andrew Lloyd Webber at some point. Maybe still is. Dunno.

Anyway, the diptych depicts a little child kneeling in prayer menaced by a dragon in one panel, and in the next, safely trotting away with a knight on horseback. I like that this is a diptych, a kind of proto-comic art form common in medieval religious art, so this was perfect to use here.

Another reference to Arthur Hughes is in this double page splash from later in the book as Galaad on his quest encounters the Hesperides.

I didn’t set out to reference this Arthur Hughes piece at first, but it’s one of my favorite paintings. When I realized my sketches for this scene kept echoing the Hughes composition, I went with it. The Hughes painting of Galahad is one of the most famous depictions of the character, so it makes me happy to have this referenced in Chivalry.

Kindly ask for CHIVALRY, published by Dark Horse Comics in the USA and by Headline Books in the UK at your local comic shops or bookstore. Written by Neil Gaiman. Adaptation and art by me.

For further reading on this project, go HERE.

HERE.

And HERE.

Thank you to my Patreon patrons for sponsoring my work and this post.

Colleen Doran Illustrates Neil Gaiman will be a solo exhibit at the Society of Illustrators in New York City this spring. Watch this space for updates.

Have a wonderful holiday season.

[iriel3000]

Friday Recs - Royalty Edition

Happy Saturday! Sorry, I am late. Some reading recommendations for your enjoyment. No particular order and more to come.

Medieval Times, Milady? Knights, queens, forbidden love, I am here for it all! Don't forget to leave some kudos!

A Fairy Queen by @Capucine

Clint Barton is just a poor, neglected knight in King Arthur's court. When he meets Natasha, queen of her own otherworldly court, what danger will there be for him?

Queen and Hawkheart by @completelyhopeless

An alternate universe semi-midieval world where Natasha is a queen and Clint is the head of the guard.

Broken Crown by @Sassanova

Between Clint's quite literally royally screwed up life, Natasha's forgotten past, and an organization out for their blood, nothing is ever as simple as it seems.

Queen of the Fae by @scribblemyname/@scribblemyname

The king greets her, but she looks past him, hand outstretched. At last, the archer comes forward. Natalia is queen and she chooses whom she will.

The Tale of the Avenging Knights by @orphan_account

Come closer, young one. I will tell you a story about the Avenging Knights, the mighty heroes who lived here the Tower of Stark, back in the olden days before the world became cold and grey.

They Will Rock You by @SneakyHufflepuff

Knight's Tale AU'.

Clint Barton wants enough money to retire. Steve Rogers wants to start an orphanage. Having Clint impersonate a knight to enter the tournament circuit seems like a better bet than fighting in the Holy Land for another ten years. And, really, how hard can it be to pretend to be a knight?

Lady Natasha Romanoff navigates the social world of the tournament for her own ends. But she has plans that go beyond playing the perfect noblewoman. How will she react when a common upstart threatens those plans?   With appearances by Sir Fury, Lord and Lady Stark, Jane the Blacksmith, Darcy Lewis, the Princes Odinson, Father Banner and the Winter Knight.

Next week's category: It's a Secret 2

If you are one of the authors or know them on tumblr and they are not properly tagged, please let me know in comments and I'll add them. Please feel free to click the Iriel3000fridayrecs link below to browse more categories.