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kerryweaverlesbian · 5 months

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Lofty of BBC's Holby City was maybe one of the worst characters on the show. Is this a hot take? Do people outside of me and my family somehow adore Lofty? I can't imagine how. Here is my hateful mean and nasty reasoning. Read at your own risk I'm not accepting criticism at this time lmao:

A) he was effective comic relief on Casualty because it's the Emergency Department and moments of Lofty tripping over or doing a social faux pas are necessary tension breakers in episodes where people are constantly at deaths door.

Casualty is (when it's GOOD) required to have at least a third of the episode dedicated to a narsty horrible accident (hell yeah) and tensions are always running high so you can see how having someone a be awkward is not going to be the worst thing that happened to them that day.

Holby City is a more hospital staff focused show (although again. If there's less than a third of an episode focused on patients it is probably a bad episode. PLEASE HAVE PATIENTS IN YOUR HOSPITAL SHOW.) but there's a lot of waiting around for people in Holby because it's the longer term care zone. If Lofty is dropping stuff in the background of scenes with this lower energy it suggests he has some sort of untreated disability rather than 'argh I'm frantic OOPS'. He is painted more as incompetent on Holby compared to their more grounded staff. Which makes everyone ELSE look incompetent for putting up with it. (To be clear!!!! I'm not saying people with disabilities are incompetent lol if he had one it would have been a storyline!! And if he had one and none of the doctors who see him every day flagged it it also makes them look incompetent. He doesn't CARE enough to be CAREful. And in a show ABOUT caring for vulnerable people as far as you absolutely can. That's a big problem.)

Like the thing is. Characters on Casualty can be one note architypes forever because they're doing medical CSI. Holby spends so much more time with the cast, they NEED to become more complicated and Lofty never does, he's the same guy no matter what happens. The only other guy like that in Holby is the incomparable Guy Self and he's a villain! He is a villain for never changing or trying for anyone! And even he TRIES to reform occasionally. Lofty (and the SHOW) doesn't see a problem with him perpetually disengaging from making emotional choices, putting most of the work of maintaining relationships on other people, and generally coasting through a profession that everyone else is giving 110% to. The building could be on fire and he'd wander outside and not think to rescue any of the patients unless someone else told him to.

B) the B is for Bisexual. Bisexual representation on Holby City where he cheats on his husband with a woman. It's a yikes from me.

C) speaking of Dom. God their relationship was horrible. POOR FUCKING DOM. tw abuse. Lofty talks to and believes Dom's abusive ex over him? He hugs the guy that RECENTLY pushed Dom down a flight of stairs? And they're still supposed to be a cutesy couple by the end of this? He shuts down Dom's excitement constantly? Hello??

D) the D is again for Dom because. It's their one year anniversary. By the way it was on their honeymoon that Dom couldn't go on to support his sick mother that Lofty cheated on Dom. Just by the way. BY THE WAY if your husband says he's going to stay home for your honeymoon and insists you go by yourself so he can stay home to support his sick mother. Maybe. Hm. Stay and support him instead. Just a fucking thought.

Lofty decides it's not working and they amicably split up (Dom is an angel sent from gay heaven by the way. I perhaps have my biases.) Dom kindly gives him the quirky and personal gift he'd bought him for their one year wedding anniversary as Lofty unicycles away (it may have been a bicycle but I picture it as a unicycle). Lofty gives him. Nothing. Which means that this man sat there as they planned a big anniversary party and not ONCE. not ONCE did he consider buying Dom an anniversary present. Because he's an arse!!!!

E) he only does this :| or this :/ for any emotion. I love characters with flat affects, for example my close personal friends Hannah Supernatural, Abed Community, and also as well my actual real human friends who do this 💖💖💖. HOWEVER. Lofty doesn't show emotion any OTHER way either. There IS nothing going on in his heart. He has passion for nothing. He goes where other people point. He avoids giving his opinion because he doesn't have any. This makes him a bad tv character for a drama. Opinion IS story on Holby. There is an issue, they all take sides and fight over it, and he doesn't get involved.

Anyway. Show's been over for over a year I will never have to see Lofty's face ever again as long as I live unless I for some reason decide to do a bizarre Holby City Rewatch and keep going to season 19.

By the way as I was looking up when he came to the Holby side of Holby City Hospital, I found this quote from his wiki page:

"Lofty is portrayed as a nice person who is likeable and popular."

Hm. He IS PORTRAYED as a nice person. The show thinks he's a nice person who is likable. However.

This concludes my ministry of hate.

#perhaps i am giving more credit to holby's character arcs than they truly deserve lmao #it's possible I just like the characters more so invent more depth for them than those on Casualty #but I don't think that's true. charlie fairhead growth (nonexistent) vs jac naylor growth in the same timeframe #btw I hate charlie too is THAT a hot take dhahfjs he's annoyingggg #anti lofty #is that a tag snfbsnf #if YOU like lofty I don't hate YOU and I hope this doesn't come up in the Lofty tag #i just started thinking about this man and it pissed me off all over again. he SUCKS.#if you're reading this not knowing anything about these shows. hello 👋 👋 hi!!!#Casualty is the BBCs answer to ER and Holby City is a spinoff that focuses on long term patients #they are both set in the same hospital. they will go in a lift and arrive in the other show's location #frequently one will blow up or be otherwise destroyed (for example Casualty's hilarious helicopter crash for a 300th episode that killed.#zero members of the main cast. no permanent changes occuered from this helicopter crash)#also they have different pubs outside that the staff frequent. and different porters.#and different outside buildings which do not show the other side #and riots outside one while the other is unaffected #this is fine and good!!! but it is funny

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afterthefeast · 4 months

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sooo funny seeing people say “just save up for big finish stuff, people worked hard on that!” girl do you know how expensive it is

#its €40 for one season of ravenous #i mean i have bought main range stuff and when i can i do like buying from big finish bc like #its not the bbc and they’re pretty good about like. no drm if their license goes #making sure you download it not just using their app #and its written by people who do care about the source material and arent Big BBC #but like its not an indie content creator really its a big company and they will be fine if broke 20 yr olds #share around rhe same drives full of mp3s #ais.log

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hellothere-generalangsty · 8 months

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I can't believe my tumblr AND pinterest feed cooperated to feed me with Good Omens content

#i've been considering things and by things I mean whether or not I would (finally) watch Good Omens #the desire to do so is groing stronger each passing day #but to think that my tumblr/ pinterest KNOW about that and are both sending me signals #it's hilarious (and terrifying but that's another debate)#anyway i need to finish The Last Kingdom first or else i will never finish the show #but yeah once i'm done with TLK i might just #get into the show where gay religious entities repress their feelings until they don't and it causes drama #i must admit i'm only considering watching now because i saw gifs of s2 finale and i'm like 'okay smells like drama i want in'#and also because yknow #i'm not getting into a show hinting about queer peeps unless there's like some amount of queer canon #i learned my lesson the hard way (had been queerbaited for years) (sideye at BBC Sherlock and Supernatural - those fuckers)#ANYWAY #too much rambling to say i might get into Good Omens but first i'll finish TLK #I need to make sure my baby Finan is fine and well #i mean fine he is hehe #one would even say he's...FinEan #okay i'm out now #got hw to do anyway #xD

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creatingblackcharacters · 19 days

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"Let's Have a Talk, First"- Stereotypes, pt 1

Come sit down. You and I, before we get into any of the things I'm sure you're impatient to know: we need to have a come to Jesus talk, first.

There are some things that I've been asked and seen that strengthens my belief that we need to have a reframing of the conversation on stereotypes in media away from something as simple as "how do I find the checklist of stereotypes to avoid". Because race- and therefore racial stereotypes- is a complex construct! Stands to reason then, that seeing, understanding, and avoiding it won't be that simple! I'm going to give you a couple pointers to (hopefully) help you rethink your approach to this topic, and therefore how to apply it when you're writing Black characters- and even when thinking about Black people!

Point #1: DEVELOP THE CHARACTER!! WRITE!!

Excuse my crude language, but let me be blunt: Black people- and therefore Black characters- will get angry at things, and occasionally make bad choices in the heat of the moment. Some of us like to fuck real nasty, some might be dominant in the bedroom, they may even be incredibly experienced! Others of us succumb to circumstance and make poor decisions that lead to crime.

None of those things inherently makes any of us angry Black women and threatening Black men, Jezebels and BBC Mandingos, and gangsters and thugs!

Black people are PEOPLE! Write us as such!

If all Black characters ever did was go outside, say "hi neighbor!" and walk back in the house, we'd be as boring as racist fans often accuse.

I say this because I feel I've seen advice that I feel makes people think writing a Black character that… Emotes negatively, or gets hurt by life and circumstance, or really enjoys hard sex, or really any scenario where they might "look bad" is the issue. I can tell many people think "well if I write that, then it's a stereotype" and to avoid the difficulty, they'll probably end up writing a flat Black character or not writing them at all. Or- and I've seen this too- they'll overcompensate in the other direction, which reveals that they 'wrote a different sort of Black person!' and it comes off just as awkwardly because it means you think that the Black people that do these things are 'bad'. And I hate that, because we're capable of depth, nuance, good, evil, adventure, world domination, all of it!

My point is, if you write your character like the human being they are, while taking care to recognize that you as the writer are not buying into stereotypes with your OWN messaging, you're fine. We have emotions, we have motivations and goals, we make decisions, and we make mistakes, just like anybody else. Write that! Develop your character!

POINT #2: YOU CAN'T CONTROL THE READERS!!

Okay. You can write the GREATEST Black character ever, full of depth, love, nuance, emotional range, all those things…. And people are still going to be racist about them. Sorry. There is absolutely nothing you can do to control a reader coming from that place of bias you sought to avoid. If it's not there, TRUST AND BELIEVE, it'll be projected onto them.

That passionate young Black woman who told the MC to get her head out of her ass? Yeah she's an angry Black bitch now, and bully to the sweet white MC. Maybe a lesbian mommy figure if they like her enough to "redeem" her. That Black gay male lead that treats his partner like he worships the ground he walks on? Yeah he's an abusive thug that needs to die now because he disagreed One Time with his white partner. That Black trans woman who happened to be competing against the white MC, in a story where the white MC makes comparable choices? Ohhhh they're gonna be VILE about that poor woman.

It really hurts- most especially as a Black fan and writer- knowing that you have something amazing to offer (as a person and creative) and people are gonna spit on that and call it "preference". That they can project themselves onto white characters no matter what, but if you project your experiences onto black characters, it's "pandering", "self insert", "woke", "annoying", "boring", and other foul things we've all gotten comments of.

But expect that it's gonna happen when you write a Black character, again, especially if you're a Black writer. If you're not Black, it won't hurt as personally, but it will probably come as a shock when you put so much effort in to create a lovely character and people are just ass about them. Unfortunately, that is the climate of fandom we currently exist in.

My favorite example is of Louis De Pointe Du Lac from AMC's Interview With The Vampire. Louis is actually one of the best depictions of the existential horror that is being Black in a racist White world I have ever seen written by mostly nonblack people. It was timeless; I related to every single source of racist pain he experienced.

People were HORRIFIC about Louis.

It didn't matter that he was well written and what he symbolized; many white viewers did NOT LIKE this man. There's a level of empathy and understanding that Black characters in particular don't receive in comparison to white counterparts, and that's due to many of those stereotypes and systemic biases I'm going to talk about.

My point is, recognize that while yes, you as the author have a duty to write a character thoughtfully as you can, it's not going to stop the response of the ignorant. Writing seeking to get everyone to understand what you were trying to do… Sisyphean effort. It's better to focus on knowing that YOU wrote something good, that YOU did not write the stereotype that those people are determined to see.

POINT #3: WHY is something a stereotype?

While there are lists of stereotypes against Black people in media and life that can be found, I would appreciate if people stopped approaching it as just a list of things you can check off to avoid. You can know what the stereotypes are, sure, but if you don't understand WHY they're a problem and how they play into perception of us, you'll either end up writing a flat character trying to avoid that list, or you're going to write other things related to that stereotype because "oh its not item #1"... and it'll still be racist.

For example: if you wrote a "sassy Black woman" that does a z formation neck rotation just because a store manager asked her something… that's probably stereotype. If you thought of a character that needed to be "loudmouthed", "sassy", and "strong" and a dark-skinned black woman was automatically what fit the profile in your mind, ding ding ding! THAT'S where you need to catch your racist biases.

But a dark-skinned Black woman character cursing out a store manager because she's had a really bad, stressful day and their attitude towards her pushed her over the edge may be in the wrong, but she's not an "angry Black woman". She's a Black woman that's angry! And if you wrote the day she had to be as bad as would drive anyone to overstimulation and anxiety, the blow up will make sense! The development and writing behind her led to this logical point (which connects to point #1!)

I'm not going to provide a truly exhaustive list of Black stereotypes in media because that would ACTUALLY be worth a college credited class and I do this for free lmao. But I am going to provide some classic examples that can get y'all started on your own research.

POINT #4: WATCH BLACK NARRATIVES!

As always, I'm gonna push supporting Black creators, because that's the best way to see the range of what you'd like. You want to see Black villains? We got those! Black heroes? Black antiheroes? Assholes, lovers, comedians, depressed, criminals, kings, and more? They exist! You can get inspired by watching those movies and reading those books, see how WE depict us!

I've seen mixed reviews on it, BUT- I personally really enjoyed Swarm, because it was one of the first times I'd ever seen that "unhinged obsessed murderous Black fan girl" concept. Tumblr usually loves that shit lmao. Even the "bites you bites you bites you [thing I love]" thing was there. And she liked girls, too. Just saying. I thought it was a fun idea that I'd love to see more of. Y'all gotta give us a chance to be in these roles, to tell these tales. We can do it too, and you'd enjoy it if you tried to understand it!

POINT#5: You are NOT Black!

This is obvious lmao, but if you're not Black, there's no need to pretend. There's no need to think "oh well I have to get a 100% perfect depiction of the Black person's mind". That's… That's gonna look cringe, at its best. You don't have to do that in order to avoid stereotypes. You're not going to be able to catch every nuance because it's not your lived experience, nor is it the societally enforced culture. Just… Do what you can, and if you feel like it's coming off hokey… Maybe consider if you want to continue this way lol. If you know of any Black beta readers or sensitivity reviewers, that'd be a good time to check in!

For example, if your Black character is talking about "what's good my homie" and there's absolutely no reason for him to be speaking that way other than to indicate that he's Black… 😬 I can't stop you but… Are you sure?

An egregious example of a TERRIBLE way to write a Black character is the "What If: Miles Morales/Thor" comic. I want to emphasize the lack of good Black character design involved in some of these PROFESSIONAL art spaces, because that MARVEL comic PASSED QA!! That comic went past NUMEROUS sets of eyes and was APPROVED!! IT GOT RELEASED!! NO ONE STOPPED IT!!

I'm sorry, it was just so racist-ly bad that it was hilarious. Like you couldn't make that shit up.

Anyway, unfortunately that's how some of y'all sound trying to write AAVE. I promise that we speak the Queen's English too lmao. If you're worried you won't get it right, just use the standard form of English. It's fine! Personally, I'd much rather you do that than try to 'decode AAVE' if you don't know how to use it.

My point is, if you're actively "forcing" yourself to "think Black"… maybe you need to stand down and reconsider your approach lmao. This is why understanding the stereotypes and social environment behind them will help you write better, because you can incorporate that Blackness- without having to verbally "emphasize how Black this is"- into their character, motivations, and actions.

Conclusion

We need to reconsider how we approach the concepts of stereotypes when writing our Black characters. The goal is not to cross off a checklist of things to avoid per se, but to understand WHY we have to develop our Black characters well enough to avoid incorporating them into our writing. Give your Black characters substance- we're human beings! We have motivations and fears and desires! We're not perfect, but we're not inherently flawed because of our race. That's what makes the difference!

And as always, and really in particular for this topic, it's the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!

#creatingblackcharacters #character design #black characters #black character design #black culture

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writtenfangirl · 9 months

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I would love to see more Charles lecerc from you, the way you write him is so good. Maybe him trying to convince his girlfriend to move to Monaco with him and it’s all sweet and cute

Treasured Memories

Charles is literally so fine. I could stare at his face all day and not get tired of it. And it really doesn't help that his personality seems just as fine as his face.

I know his native language is French and not Italian but I always thought it would be so cute if I had a boyfriend who could speak a lot of languages and he chooses to call me a term of endearment in a different language than his native tongue.

Fic's only about 2100 words so enjoy!

Part 2

Charles Leclerc has and always will be a determined man.

He wasn’t the kind of person who rested unless he got what he wanted and he did whatever it takes to get the things he wants.

Whether through his sheet grit, his determination, his talent or the bountiful resources that his family fought tooth and nail to give him, Charles did everything and anything to succeed.

It’s how he won the F2 championship in his first and only season, how he won rookie of the year during his debut with Sauber and why he was signed by the oldest and most respected team on the grid before he had even reached his second year as a Formula One driver.

He rarely ever heard the word no. And when he did, he always knew how to turn it into a yes.

So when he had asked his girlfriend of three years, Y/N Y/L/N, to move in with him, he hadn’t been expecting her rejection.

“Move in with me, amore,” Charles said, his voice cutting through the loud speakers that were playing Harry Potter’s orchestral theme song.

It was one of those rare days when neither Charles nor Y/N were off somewhere else around the world. With the season reaching their summer break and Y/N requesting time off from work to spend time with him, Charles and Y/N had opted to stay in Charles’ apartment and simply relax together. He wasn’t usually one for a lazy day but because he rarely ever got to spend time with his girlfriend, it was easy to forget about his training and his work outs and team strategy building for the day. It was even easier to forget those things when she was peacefully leaning against him, her eyes glued to the TV screen that was playing the first Harry Potter movie as their bodies were protected from the frigid air conditioning with a cozy blanket.

Charles felt Y/N tense before she pulled herself away from him, her weight supported by her arm as her attention shifted to Charles. Harry Potter was just about to tell Draco Malfoy off for being mean to Ronald Weasley and Charles knew it was one of Y/N’s favorite scenes. But she’d forgotten about it as she processed Charles’s simple request.

The words hung in the air and Charles paused the TV before the scene could progress further. He also knew that Y/N would make him rewind back to the scene if she had missed it.

“What did you just say?” Y/N said slowly, her eyes focused on Charles.

“Y/N, move in with me.”

He fully expected her jubilant shouts or even a wonderful kiss of happiness followed by an ecstatic “yes!” but Y/N did none of those things. Instead she said a very emphatic, “No…”

“No?”

“No…”

Charles wasn’t exactly stung by the rejection. He was more surprised if anything. He couldn’t understand why she would say no. They had been together three years. It seemed like the most natural course of action for Y/N to move in with him, the next step to bring their relationship to newer heights.

“Why don’t you want to move in with me, amore?” Charles asked.

“It’s not that I don’t want to. I just don’t think it’s a good idea, Charles. I mean, I moved to Monaco just a year ago. Now you’re asking me to move in with you.”

She did have a point. Y/N did leave London to live in Monaco but she had justified the move because it was better for her career.

She was an international correspondent for the BBC, which meant she was often sent to different countries around the world. After Brexit, it became harder for her to travel around Europe and, at the time, moving to Monaco was the sensible response.

Being able to see Charles more often was just the added bonus.

“But amore,” Charles protested, “you practically live here already. You have clothes in my closet and skincare in my bathroom. You even have keys here. You see my family so often, maman and my brothers think you’re an honorary Leclerc. I don’t see the problem with you moving in.”

“What about my lease?”

“I’ll pay for the rest of it.” He deadpanned. “You’re landlord is terrible, amore.”

Y/N winced. He got her there. Her landlord really was terrible. There was always something broken in her apartment, whether it was a broken heater in the middle of winter, a leaky faucet in her kitchen sink, a toilet that refused to flush or a TV that only played static, it took her landlord months to fix those things. It’s why Charles had given Y/N keys to his apartment in the first place. If something went wrong, she could always spend the night. But things went wrong so often that for the past six months, Y/N spent five months living in Charles’ apartment rather than her own.

Not that he was particularly complaining.

He loved having Y/N around.

Y/N’s schedule was just as hectic as his was, likely even more so. She always had three suitcases packed and ready to go just in case she had to leave at a moment’s notice. The rare moments when Y/N came straight to his apartment after a tiring assignment and Charles had been home to greet her were highlights of their relationship. He wanted her to come home to him. And the even rarer moments when he came home to her after his own hectic schedule? Those were memories he etched in his mind forever so he could relive them in his dreams.

“What about my space,” Y/N added. “I work from home a lot and I don’t have a space here to work.”

Fully expecting this, Charles’ next words were unhurried and reassuring. “I’ve already planned it. I can move my simulator and my gaming consoles in the living room. There’s plenty of space here. You can use the game room as your office. I even installed speakers there because I know you like to listen to Taylor Swift while you work.”

Y/N’s eyebrows shot straight up, causing Charles to grin. “Wow,” she said, mildly impressed. “You really have thought of everything.”

He did think about everything. He didn’t want to give her a reason to say no and the only way he could guarantee she’ll say yes was if Charles handled everything so that Y/N didn’t have to put in any effort. She always hated moving and he knew he would have to move mountains and cross seas just to ensure that Y/N would say yes and so he did just that.

He tried his best not to sound so smug. “Oui. All you have to do is say yes. You don’t have to lift a finger. I’ll call the movers and plan everything and your things could be here by tomorrow if you wanted.”

And yet Charles could see the hesitation in her eyes. Something was holding her back. He knew his girlfriend enough to know that what’s holding her back wasn’t any trivial reason. This was something big.

“What’s making you say no?” He asked patiently.

“Alright,” Y/N said at the question, her hesitation vanishing and steely determination filling her features. “Do you really know why I don’t want to move in with you? You might not like what I say.”

Charles nodded. He wanted nothing more than to know what horrible reason could possibly be stopping the love of his life from living with him so he could find a way to stop it.

“I’ve noticed a pattern with you, Charles.”

He pulled his brows into a frown. “A pattern?”

“Yes, babe. A pattern. You once told me that in your previous relationships, the love and magic between you two ended when they moved in.”

“What?”

“When you and Giada were together and she moved in, things ended between you two after a year. With Charlotte, it was two. Alexandra had six months. I love you, Charles, in a way that I had never loved anyone before. I don’t want things to end between us.”

He blinked at her once. Twice.

Y/N had always been blunt but she was never unfeeling. She looked as though she wanted to snatch the words from the air and shove it back in herself if she could. “Charles, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to off—”

Charles’ sharp bark of laughter interrupted her.

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise as laughter shook his body, the sounds coming out from him echoing in the living room.

Her lips pulled into a frown as she took one of the pillows that rested on the couch and hit him with it. “It’s not funny, Charles!”

“I’m sorry!” He howled, not sounding sorry at all as his laughter choked the words from him, leaving him gasping for breath. Tears were beginning to collect in his eyes, further frustrating his girlfriend.

With a growl, Y/N hit him with the pillow again. Charles couldn’t even register the thump of the pillow with how hard he was laughing.

“Y/N, it’s not funny,” he managed to get out as he laughed. He clutched midsection, his stomach beginning to cramp from how hard herwas laughing.

“Then stop laughing!”

“I can’t!”

“If you’re going to be that way, then fine!” Y/N pushed away the blankets that covered them and began to stand up. Instantly, Charles sobered up, his hand shooting forward to grab Y/N’s arm, pulling her to him. She landed on a heap on his lap, her hair tickling his nose, the scent of her shampoo enveloping him as he threaded his arms around her body and placed a kiss on her cheek.

She huffed, rolling her eyes in annoyance, causing Charles to chuckle at her. Another kiss on her cheek and Y/N’s annoyed expression softened. “Y/N,” he said gently, “why would you worry about that?”

“Because,” she whispered, her previous annoyance vanishing like smoke, “usually what happens in almost every relationship is that the little traits that we once thought were cute and endearing about the other person become things we hate. I love that you ask me to cook for you whenever I’m at home but what if one day I wake up and I start to hate that about you. I don’t want that to happen.”

“You are being so silly, amore. That won’t ever happen to us.”

“How do you know that.”

“Because I’ve known you for so long and but I still find new things about you to love everyday. Even the things I don’t like about you, I love. And I love those things about you because I love you. Besides, of my past relationships you’re the girl I’m most compatible with. Every chore you don’t like to do, I like doing.” He said the words with a self-satisfied smirk. “You have no reason to say no. So say yes.”

“So long as you’re absolutely, 100 percent sure you want this.”

This time, Charles’ expression could only be referred to as serious. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I love you, Y/N. I want to spend forever with you and I can only do that if you let me. So please let me.”

“Oh,” Y/N sighed as a smile pulled at her lips, “you Frenchies and your romantic words.”

“Monegasque, amore!” Charles sputtered and this time, it was Y/N’s turn to laugh.

“I’m just teasing, babe. You’ll have to get used to it since I’m going to be moving in.”

His arms squeezed her tighter, pressing her against him at her words. “You mean it? You’ll move in? You cannot take it back if you say yes, amore. I won’t let you.”

Y/N’s smile could only be described as incandescent. “Yes. I’ll move in. I’ll move anywhere so long as it’s with you.”

And just like that, what was once a normal, pleasant day, was now another treasured memory. He couldn’t imagine anything more amazing than hearing Y/N’s yes. And if he felt this way about her agreeing to move in, he could only imagine how he’d feel when she’d give him her yes after his proposal.

But his impending proposal to the woman he now knows to be the love of his life was another matter entirely. Right now, he wanted to bask in the moment and he couldn’t think of a better way to do that than by laying on his—their—couch, watching their favorite films and holding the girl of his dreams.

#charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x you #formula 1 #fomula one #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction #ferrari

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weirdmorefics · 8 months

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So Very Basic- Spencer Reid X Reader

A/N- This may have just been an excuse for me to infodump about Pride and Prejudice but I swear the fic is still good! Reader is also very Autistic coded but I am Autistic so that happens a lot when I write hope you don't mind.

Pronouns- She/her

Tooth-Rooting Fluff

Word Count- 822

Summary- Spencer judging your book tastes on the jet back home.

Spencer and I have made it a habit of sitting next to each other every flight home. We usually talk about the recent books we have finished or are currently reading. Sometimes we just sit in silence and read together. These are my favorite moments in my life I never feel calmer in the jet with Spencer by my side or across from me. This time it felt different though Spencer's eyes have not left me once I swear he hadn't flipped a page of his book.

"Hey Spence, What's your book about?" I say trying to hint at the fact that I can obviously see he has not flipped a single page.

He seemed startled by my sudden question but proceeded to tell me the entire synopsis of his book.

I slam my book shut and shout, "You have read that book already!"

He seemed perplexed by my reaction "There is no rule against rereading books I think authors would prefer you reread their works."

I groan, "There is when you spend the whole flight staring at me distracting me from my book."

Spencer flushes and I am one hundred percent sure I am right now.

"Hotch the children are fighting again!" Rossi shouts like a mother making me shake my head at him.

"Hotch Spence is poking meee," Emily teases in her best Y/N impersonation. JJ of course joins in playing the role of Spencer, "I am not Y/n." She draws out my name.

Spencer and I look as red as two tomatoes and my safe space has turned into an inescapable nightmare.

He leans in and whispers in my ear, "You know this is your fault for picking the most basic Jane Austen novel."

I gasp dramatically which of course just causes more stares from the team.

Derek sighed knowing this Y/n gasp all too well, "Pretty boy what are you doing offending Y/n? Do you want to listen to another one of her defensive rants for thirty minutes?"

"I quite enjoy them," Spencer smiles.

Rossi rolls his eyes, "You would."

I stand up, "Pride and Prejudice is beautiful from its book, it's movie, and it's BBC Special!"

JJ sighs," Here she goes."

"The drama in the book is spectacular as it delves into each sister's feelings about marriage and how at the time it was their only option. Don't even get me started on the twenty-seven with no prospects speech! Oh my goodness Darcy is the perfect match for Elizabeth with them both being so headstrong makes for the best enemies to lovers! Speaking of Darcy in the film when he does that hand-clench thing it was not even in the book! It wasn't even scripted! Which made me feel he was the perfect actor for Darcy he understood the role perfectly!" I ramble out putting my hand on my chest the rest of the team is annoyed at another one of my outbursts but Spencer is looking at me like I am the only person on the plane and I flush when I meet his eyes.

Hotch shouts at me, "L/N would you sit down we are about to go into a patch of turbulence." He of course says this too late and I embarrassingly fall on top of Spencer.

I immediately try to scramble off Spencer but he holds me there. I look away from him trying to hide my flushed face and he asks if I am alright.

"Yup, just mortified but everybody needs a good daily dose of that am I right." I smile trying to play it off but I play with my hair a common tell of mine that everyone in the BAU knows by now.

"You know I have never seen the Pride and Prejudice film," Spencer says slyly.

My eyes light up "You must see it! It's on Netflix I have seen it over a hundred times! I can probably quote all the words by now."

"I actually don't have Netflix I don't really watch television," He rubs the back of his neck.

"That's fine I could totally bring my laptop to you to watch it! Or we could watch it at my apartment!" I ramble out coming off more excited than I meant to.

"That sounds great," Spencer smiles, "Do you really know all the words you could recite some now?" He teases.

I turn the deepest red I think I have ever been in my life and of course, Derek has to jump in.

"Oh pretty boy has moves," he whistles.

Spence rolls his eyes "Shut up Morgan."

"Could we all shut up? Some of us like to rest so we can actually focus on work when we get back." Hotch says in his typical annoyed-with-us voice.

"I guess reciting Pride and Prejudice to you will have to wait," I whisper into Spencer's ear it was finally my time to make him blush.

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid drabble #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds oneshot #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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wileys-russo · 10 months

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We’ve seen that Tooney and Lessi are doing an escape room on bbc.

Would it be possible for you to do a fic where the reader goes for one with alessia but a really scary one?

They can be going to the escape room as a date or as friends that have been secretly in love with each other?

jumpscare II a.russo

"hello!" you jumped as a pair of cold hands grabbed at your hips, warm lips ghosting your ear, startling you as you dropped your phone from the shock, the device thankfully landing on the soft carpet beneath your feet.

"alessia! don't do that." you exhaled shakily and smacked her on the arm, turning to face the grinning blonde who bent down to grab your phone, quick to snatch it back off of her with a roll of your eyes.

"where's tooney?" the striker asked having known ella had driven you here, glancing over your shoulder and looking around for her partner in crime. "oh hi y/n, how are you? oh i'm so good thank you for asking alessia, how are you? oh you're well, thats fantastic!" you mocked her lack of greeting sarcastically, it now being her turn to roll her eyes.

"i said hello." the striker defended with a teasing smile, pulling you into a tight hug. "no you scared me and on purpose! you know i already don't want to be here." you grumbled into her shoulder, the taller girl rubbing your back comfortingly, ella having somehow convinced a group of your team mates to do a horror themed escape room on your day off.

"it'll be fine! it's just a bit of fun." alessia assured you as the two of you pulled apart, alessia secretly wishing she didn't need to let go.

the blonde having had a mild gigantic crush on you pretty much ever since she laid eyes on you when you'd been signed at the beginning of the season a few months ago.

however she treasured your fast developing friendship much more, and had spent weeks now trying to swallow the flutter of butterflies that erupted in her stomach every time you even looked in her direction.

don't get her started on when you smiled at her, laughed at something she said or did, fell asleep on her shoulder on long bus rides, the striker swooned at the simplest of interactions with you, and it killed her that the more she tried to push down these feelings the stronger they only seemed to grow.

though somehow unbeknownst to her, you were struggling with the same problem, too fearful confessing your feelings would push the blonde away and you'd rather be her friend than nothing at all.

both your mutual pining however did not go unnoticed by your friends and team mates, almost all of whom had tried to individually encourage the both of you to just ask the other out on a date.

but both of your insistence that the other would not share your own feelings meant mary and millie having to physically wrestle ella to the ground on a number of occasions to stop her from meddling and telling the both of you of the others privately confessed feelings to try and speed up the process.

though that didn't stop ella from meddling in her own more subtle ways, and with some convincing she had roped in maya and lucia to help her, and it was safe to say it was no mere coincidence that ella had suggested this specific escape room.

it was why she had forgotten failed to mention to the two of you that each of the rooms only allowed 6 people in each, and so making sure to check your group of 8 in ahead of time, it had meant you and alessia would be in your own room, alone.

though her plan was coming along (in her mind) brilliantly smooth, it didn't take long for mary to catch on as she stood beside the younger girl, assisting checking in your group.

"tooney we told you not to meddle." the goal keeper sighed, sending the brunette a pointed look of disappointment. "oh come on mary not the mum look!" ella rolled her eyes, sending the attendant a thankful smile and calling out to the rest of your group to come over so he could explain the rules, mary wincing at the volume of her shouts and sending an apologetic smile to an older couple who looked over unimpressed.

admittedly you hadn't paid very much attention when the attendant was explaining the rules, too busied with glancing at alessia out of the corner of your eye as the blonde rested her head on her fist, freshly dyed blonde hair tied back into her usual neat ponytail.

she was dressed quite casually, clad only in a pair of black leggings and a light blue denim jacket with a grey hoodie underneath, however she somehow made them look runway worthy, the girl could wear a bin bag and you'd still stare at her with your usual love sick gaze.

what you somehow failed to miss, was that with every fleeting moment your gaze was drawn back to the attendant and away from alessia, alessias own piercing blue eyes would flicker toward you.

a soft smile settled on her face as she watched you nod along with the attendants words, chewing on your bottom lip as the blonde knew you often did when trying to concentrate, a habit she'd tried to break you out of but it was to no use.

alike to her you were also dressed quite casually, clad in a pair of ripped blue jeans and an oversized black nike jumper, alessias smile softening as she noticed you tuck your hands into the sleeves which were a few centimeters too long.

the girls eyes wandered over your form, lingering a few seconds too long on the slivers of tanned skin that peeked out from the small distressed rips on the tops of your thighs, mary having already taken the mick out of you for the choice of pants, particularly the gaping holes around your knees. the older girl mockingly assuring you if you so desperately needed some new jeans she would buy you a proper pair, millie joining in and teasing she would bring over some bug spray to kill the moths in your closet which had obviously been feasting on your clothes.

you simply shoved them at their comments with a playful roll of your eyes, the attendant walking the eight of you over to the rooms. "well, good luck girls!" mary clapped both you and alessia on the back, neither you nor alessia having heard the attendant explain that due to their numbers policy the two of you had been nominated to do a different room alone.

"what?" the two of you echoed in sync, eyebrows furrowed into a confused frown. "only six to a room so we're in here, you two in there. same rules for each room just different challenges and back stories." mary explained with a shrug, hurrying off into the door beside you after the others, it closed behind her with a gentle thud as both you and alessia looked to one another with wide eyes.

"go on girls, times started!" the attendant encouraged with a nod of his head as both your gazes flickering up to the thirty minute timer above your head, the man hurrying the two of you inside with a clap, the door closing behind you before you'd even had time to process what was happening.

"oh god i hate this already." you forced yourself to take a deep breath, eyes slowly adjusting to the dimly lit room. "jesus christ!" you jumped as the tv on the wall snapped on, an elderly man with a deep bloodied cut across his neck slowly explaining how he was one of the many residents murdered here in the asylum, kick starting the story of your room and setting into motion what your challenge was.

"we're already five minutes in we best get to it." alessia nodded to a small door which had swung open from inside the fireplace, stepping one foot inside as your anxiety escalated.

"less I really don't know if i can do this." you shook your head firmly, feet rooted to the ground as you balled your fists by your side, heart hammering in your chest as your eyes darted nervously around the room.

"you'll be fine, come on!" alessia held out her hand toward you, wiggling her ring clad fingers expectantly as you quickly shook your head, stood still where you were.

you jumped again as a loud wicked cackle sounded throughout the room, shooting over towards alessia and grabbing her hand as alessias breath hitched, a bolt of electricity shooting through her as your fingers intertwined with hers.

"hey, look at me." she squeezed your hand gently, your eyes flickering to hers which shone with obvious concern. "if you want to we can leave and just wait for the others outside, i won't make you do anything you're not comfortable with." alessia promised softly, not having realised how terrified you actually were until this very moment.

hearing the sincerity in her words your face softened and once more you swooned, memory flickering back to how excited alessia was about doing the escape room at training yesterday. and just as she didn't want you to do this if you were scared, you didn't want her to have to miss out just for your own sake.

"no it's okay, you were really looking forward to this less and i don't want to be a buzzkill. i'll be fine, i just might have to break your hand." you smiled guiltily, holding up your intertwined fingers as alessia grinned.

"we could do another one that isn't themed on a murder in a mental asylum, please don't feel you have to do this for my sake." alessia assured but you shook your head, affirming you would be okay.

"come on, we've only got twenty minutes and if tooney beats us we won't hear the end of it." you joked, alessia firmly agreeing with a laugh, the two of you making your way into the next room.

"oh fuck me dead." you mumbled to yourself, eyes widening at the statues surrounding you, your anxiety peaking as you wondered if any of them were real people which would in time jump out at you.

doing your best to swallow that fear you followed alessias lead, the two of you searching around for four small keys to unlock your next clue. you let out a scream and shot backwards as a toy doll shot out of the small wooden jewellery box you had opened, strong hands wrapping around your waist to save you from falling.

"thanks!" you exhaled nervously, skin burning where alessias hands had just touched you beneath your jumper, the blonde quick to let you go after you'd steadied yourself.

"oh got the last one!" the striker announced happily as she grabbed the key out of an abandoned dusty gumboot, unlocking the chest and wincing as it opened to be full of fake severed limbs and heads. "er that's rank." you cringed, the girl quickly snatching out your next clue and slamming the chest shut.

mumbling the clue over and over to herself her blue eyes scanned the room, brightening as she spotted what she was after, hurrying over to the book case in the corner, yanking on an encyclopedia as an alarm sounded and it split in half.

"secret door!" alessia grinned at you excitedly, and you melted at the sincere happiness in her face, grabbing her hand as she offered it to you and following her into the next room.

"how is this worse!" you whispered in shock as you stepped out from into what appeared to be a meat locker. "thank god we're not vegetarians." alessia joked playfully, trying to lighten the mood as she began to look around for your next clue.

she nearly fell over as you let out a blood curdling scream, a man with a bloodied apron, slasher mask and a chain saw jumping out from a hidden door in the wall, yelling at the both of you as he waved the chainsaw around in your direction.

quick to react alessia pulled you in behind her, an arm wrapping tightly around your torso as the man let out a loud twisted laugh and disappeared back where he had come from, the lights cutting out only leaving a faint red glow from the LED strips lining the roof.

"are you okay??" alessia asked softly, turning around and gently placing her hands either side of your face, forcing you to look at her as you nodded, pale as a sheet. "i think we should lea-" alessia started to speak until you let out a gasp and smacked her on the shoulder.

"next clue!" you managed to spit out, gently removing her hands from your face and turning her around, nudging her to look at the ceiling where there was a number of arrows made of glow sticks pointing in different directions.

"is there a wheel or a lock or something we can turn?" you wondered aloud, fumbling your way around the walls trying to find something as alessia followed your lead, crying out victoriously as she found a loose brick she was able to turn.

"left, right, down, left, up!" you recited as you hurried to her side, the blonde twisting the brick in the desired directions as a loud hiss sounded and the wall began to part.

"you did it!" alessia beamed proudly, grabbing your hand and squeezing tightly as the two of you hurried into the next room, the attendant announcing you only had ten minutes remaining.

"we're looking for the jars of tablets with these five symbols on them, then we need to place the jars in that safe over there and close it, that'll open the next door." alessia informed as her eyes scanned over the instructions on the wall, the two of you hurrying to frantically search around.

"times nearly up girls!" another actor jumped out from the door you had both just came from, this one clad in a white lab coat smeared with blood, a machette in his hand as he smacked the large knife a few times against the safe with a menancing grin and lunged at the two of you before running back the way he came.

both caught off guard you let out screams, frantically grabbing one another. though of course alessia, clumsy as ever, tripped over the book she had dropped from her grip and stumbled, falling to the floor as she tugged you with her, you landing on top of her with a soft grunt.

"sorry!" alessia apologized quickly, cheeks flushing rosy pink with embarrassment, both at her own actions and at the close proximity you were both squished into in the dimly lit room.

"i told you i needed to wrap you in bubble wrap." you teased with a soft chime of laughter, the stumble having actually helped ease your nerves, able to find amusement in the blondes consistently clumsy behaviors.

alessias heart began to hammer hard in her chest, your faces so close to one another she could count the freckles which dotted the bridge of your nose. "less." you breathed out softly, a hot blush creeping down the back of your neck as the amusement was replaced with nerves as you also registered the situation you were in.

"can i kiss you?" you blurted out suddenly, tips of your ears burning bright red as the reality of what you'd just said dawned on you. with a mortified shake of your head you tried to stand, alessias arms quick to wrap around you, tugging your body back down to press tightly against her own.

"please." the older girl almost begged, eyes frantically searching yours for any hint that you didn't mean what you'd just said. not wasting another second you closed the small gap between the two of you, pressing your lips to hers.

if alessia felt butterflies when you looked at her, the feeling of your warm lips pressed against hers sent her mind and body into a catastrophic meltdown.

her calloused hands slid up the back of your jumper, gripping at the bare skin of your back as if you could disappear at a moments notice if she didn't keep a firm enough hold on you.

right as alessia's tongue began to explore your mouth the two of you beginning to fight for control of the kiss, a loud siren sounded and you quickly pulled away, sitting up and placing hands over your ears at the intrusive noise.

alessia did the same, trying to ignore the wildfire raging away in her stomach from the kiss she had yearned over for months now.

"time's up girls." the attendant informed awkwardly over the PA, the siren cutting off as the lights turned back on and your cheeks burned bright red as you realized the position you and alessia were in.

hurrying to your feet you held out a hand, assisting her up as the two of you made your way back to the beginning, not a single sound uttered between the two of you the entire way.

you let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding in as the two of you stepped out of the first room, quick to notice the rest of your friends waiting a few feet away chatting among themselves.

"losers! looosers!" tooney began to chant tauntingly as you and alessia joined them, wagging her finger in your faces as you smacked her away.

"arcade time girls, lets go!" maya called out over her teasing, slinging an arm over the midfielders shoulder and dragging her away from the two of you, the others following and again leaving you and alessia in only one anothers company.

"i don't really feel like the arcade. do you want to maybe go get dinner?" alessia asked quietly, nervously fiddling with her ring as your eyes widened in surprise. "as in we leave them here and we go to dinner, just the two of us?" you asked slowly, alessia nodding with a small smile.

"like a...date?" you asked again though this time much more hesitantly as you played with the sleeves of your jumper, feeling a bit like a school girl speaking to her crush for the first time on the playground.

"yeah, a date." alessia confirmed with a nervous smile, cheeks flushed rosy pink.

"yeah actually, I'd really like that less."

#alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #woso community #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso blurbs #engwnt #lionesses x reader

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hamletshoeratio · 10 months

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"But no new content 😭!!" that means jack shit. We have several literal decades worth of content we can watch or rewatch. The writers and now the actors too are not only fighting for their livelihoods but for the futures and the soul of their industries.

Fuck new content, fuck the executives and producers and powers that be who make millions upon millions while the people, who create the content that make them rich, can barely make ends meet.

Here's some suggestions to anyone who doesn't know what to watch;

Nostalgia rewatch; watch old favourites, shows and movies you haven't seen in years but that stayed with you, the ones that mattered to you.

Watch the shows your parents didn't let you watch growing up because they thought the show was "too mature" for you.

Watch the shows and movies people have recommended to you that you never found time for before.

Watch indie films!!!

Look at different genres than what you've watched before and give them a go.

Try films and shows from other countries and/or in other languages. There's dubs and subtitles available and these shows and movies can be just as good if not better than their American and/or English speaking counterpart.

And remember when watching shows, that you do not have to binge them all at once, you can have your own personal tv schedule and watch say an episode a week like you would've done when/if they aired before streaming

Look at some older films and shows, why does it matter if it's in black and white or the camera quality is lower than 4k and hd, so long as it's good? And so many of those shows and films, while not perfect, have aged better than shows that have come out in the last decade, like the golden girls for instance has aged so much better than say glee (ok many many many shows aged better than glee but let's be real for a second, music was better when artists were terrified of the Glee cast doing a better version of their song on the show. I do still wish it was a show my mom didn't let me watch tho, lmao glee was fine but no, her twelve year old being obsessed with Les mis and rewatching it religiously was cause for concern 😂😭 I was just as obsessed with glee for seasons 1-4 especially).

It's ok to indulge your inner child and rewatch the classics tm. The shows and movies you grew up with. Rewatch the shows that got you through sick days from school, the tv movies you remember watching premiere, the cartoons that MADE your Saturday mornings, etc.

On the topic of animation, that's literally an unlimited genre you can tap into, which rarely gets the recognition and respect it deserves.

Don't be afraid to watch the one season wonders, the shows that networks and streamers cancelled after one season in spite of strong reviews and good ratings. Or the shows that ended abruptly around the season 3 or 5 mark because networks and streamers cancelled them because they didn't want to negotiate contracts and have to pay the actors and writers more. Get angry, remember what the actors and writers are fighting for.

The privilege of older shows that either concluded naturally or that writers were given a heads up on might be on it's last season is that you get closure, unlike with the above. That might not mean an ending is good but a bad ending is better than a cliffhanger. There's always fix its fics for a bad ending. And if the ending is good, it's typically GOOD in my experience. The fear of a cliffhanger and zero closure has already turned many against watching new content until the show is renewed for another season or is fully wrapped (and fans don't hate the ending).

Watch the shows that were in their day or are popular or critically acclaimed, they usually hold up to the hype.

Watch the old shows and movies your favs were on/in before they were your favs.

Try a soap or a telenovela, they can be entertaining af (holby city my love, Tuesdays have never been the same since the BBC robbed me of you).

If you liked a reboot or a revival of a show, try the original (in certain cases, the og is even better, see boy meets world v girl meets world).

If you like period dramas, try shows and films from other countries based on their history. A lot of times when people are telling their own history it goes far better than when Hollywood tries it (see the many times Hollywood has actors brought in because producers think they're good for box office and they then go on to butcher the accent their character should have, see Cameron Diaz, Julia Roberts, Meryl Streep and so many others who have absolutely butchered the Irish accent over the years for instance. There's also many many instances even recently of just blatant whitewashing see Matt Damon as the last samurai...).

Listen to recommendations, watch the shows and movies you know your family and friends loved but you never got around to watching.

#wga strike #sag strong #sag solidarity #sag strike #wga solidarity #wga strong #writers guild of america #writers guild strike #like your ncis law&orders greys er spn etc all have nearly 20+ seasons WE'RE GOOD FOR AWHILE FOLKS #like the amount of content we have for star trek alone like #do you want tos tos films star trek the animated series tng tng films ds9 voy enterprise dsc picard ld the shorts prodigy tas films?#support the strikes #union strong #sag aftra #sag aftra solidarity #sag aftra strike #sag aftra strong

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xviruserrorx · 1 year

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MerlinRewatch2023 -> "A Remedy To Cure All Ills" Paradise Lost ~ Masterlist [Prev <- • -> Next]

#merlinwatch2023 #viruscreates #bbc merlin #edwin muirden #bbc merlin edit #edit #bbc merlin 1x06 #a remedy to cure all ills #paradise lost #guess who forgot was doing this rewatch 🫠#its fine its fine i can play catch up #this one was fun to make i love this episode so much #also for the thought that death to be a cure for all the magic users in the show because thats the only way out of what uther has done?#just ksbdjdjdjdjjdd I'm occasionally impressed with myself a good old pat on the back to me XD #please click for better quality #tumblr is killing my quality here

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sgiandubh · 3 months

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Friends and friends of friends a network make

Boys are back in town, no rings (Real Life, not Instabuzz) and active networking:

In this case, those who are missing from the pic are as (if not more) important as those who made it, riding in the rain.

Let's unpack:

John Laurie, Managing Director at the Glenturret distillery, where my personal favorite blend (oh, well, The Famous Grouse - I know, really LOL, but it is what it is) is made. A long, interesting career that started in 2000, as General Manager of a fitness club network headquartered in Irvine, California (LA Fitness) and got him more and more involved in whisky business since 2014, as General Manager of Edrington, the Macallan distillery. If it sounds familiar to you, well... always remember that #silly old slogan on the Pall Mall cigarette packs: 'wherever particular people congregate'. I know I do 😎.

Something immediately piqued my interest in this short bio: 'opened a fine dining restaurant that achieved a Michelin star inside 7 months'. And it is, of course, true: part of the reasons I am always using LinkedIn to place people, is that it would be counterproductive to blatantly lie, there. Or childish: even McSideburns knows that, with his very empty page and 1 contact - but what the hell do I know, though, he's more private than if he worked for the MI-6.

The one starred Michelin restaurant who got 'le macaron' in seven months is The Glenturret Lalique Restaurant, that opened in July 2021, on the distillery's premises and got it by February 2022. The first time a distillery wins a Michelin star, by the way:

Now, where did I read a similar business story, not so long ago and wrote about it? Oh, that's right, Tom Kitchin's first restaurant in EDI apparently followed the same yellow brick road to instant success, back in 2007:

Again, I am sensing a theme, here. Associating with young, dynamic and daring entrepreneurial voices in the whisky business. Not exactly the manwhore, closeted gay, peasant and crook some hypocrites would like to portray. I have to say, I am always, always over the moon glad to see the real thing showing up from time to time: a consistent effort to get things done, properly.

But sure, you believe what you want. I cannot force anyone to go beyond a sometimes very limited world view.

Second person being missed is David Coulthard, F1 legend, but also...

Company Director at Whisper Films, one of the most dynamic, fastest growing UK media groups. He founded it in 2010, along Jake Humphries, BBC F1 commenter extraordinaire and Sunil Patel, a former BBC producer, but also a Board Member of the Edinburgh TV Festival:

And for those who might not know it (I didn't), Coulthard hails from Dumfries & Galloway. Mmmhm. Well done, S. Well done.

S knows exactly what he's doing, where he's going and when and with whom he is seen. By this point in time, I think we might safely think his somewhat lackadaisical recent Insta follows (Romanian female MMA athlete? ROFLMAO, really and I howled) as gently trolling this very obsessed invested fandom. As I wrote it many, many times already, the Scottish Mafia is a reality - and good for him, really, to use what is readily available. And if you still had any doubt that was a business informal meeting, The Highland Chieftain tagged SS in his story.

He's going to laugh all the way to the bank, this one. You'll see. Great news and I will always be here to put it in context. Some of the things being heavily peddled around in here might not be very interesting to me - but this yes: this is exciting.

Also, many, many thanks to the two of you who immediately keep me up with these: you know who you are and you are loved, of course, why even ask?😘🙌

#fandom #shitshow #boozewars #business

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targaryenrealnessdarling · 4 months

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It's Who We Have | Part Three

Summary: Following the devastating events at Westhaven, something beyond their control is aching to pull them together | Word Count: 3.7k~ | Warnings below the cut!

General Taglist | Billy Washington Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Warnings: funeral, suggestions of neglect, mentions of sexual intercourse, mild angst, mild violence

A/N: my babies are back :) hope you like this chapter <3 who has a feeling there's something Billy doesn't know? 🤭

Funerals always felt strange. But he supposed that wasn’t a bad thing.

He looked around, shifting his weight from foot to foot and stood next to his parents. All of Lana’s coworkers were here, some dressed in their military uniform, some in black suits like he was. They’d all formed their own groups, chatting idly amongst themselves to fill the silence that was entrenched with the knowledge of what they were here for.

To send off their beloved coworker, who had so long been at their sides, that he somewhat felt like family.

Nut was a dear friend of Lana’s.

He remembered at first, how they absolutely could not stand each other, each too similar for their own good. Stubborn, proud and strong-willed both in and out of their dangerous occupation.

But they were funny together.

Lana had insisted that she was fine, and that she had to keep working, otherwise she’d ‘go mental’. But Billy knew her. She was just delaying the inevitable, and that some day, she’d crack, and crack hard.

You couldn’t bottle up a feeling like that.

Not when a further 12 people died in the attack, with many more than the news originally anticipated injured as well.

He’d stopped checking the BBC Homepage. It was becoming just an act to distract him from what was really going on around him, mindlessly scrolling through all the flat-toned ways in which they described the horror of the situation.

Nothing could distract him from the weighted guilt that was left behind by her presence.

Lana turned up to St Mary’s Church one grey morning looking as if she hadn’t slept a wink, and had simply pulled a blazer haphazardly over what she usually wore to work. Her face was gaunt, like she’d not wanted to come but was trying to hide it on her expression. Billy liked to think he could read his sister, but over time he felt as if the person he grew up with was fading away.

He gave her a hug in greeting, one hand on her back to let her know he felt the enormity of her loss.

“You look smart, Billy”.

He didn’t reply to that, he simply bowed his head and shoved his hands in his pockets, feeling a wash of insecurity flood through him at the way she’d said it.

Like she still thought he was a fuck-up.

“Bit grand, all this, eh?”, his mum raised her eyebrows, obviously having seen all the military uniformed men scattered about, with lines of medals on their breasts. Billy grimaced, and made eye contact with Lana as if to say ‘that was a fucking weird thing to say at a funeral’. But his mum must have realised it and followed up with, “Nut would love it, though”, which did nothing to take the sting out of the previous insensitivity.

Billy watched longingly as she disappeared, feeling even more alone than when he started.

He looked into the crowd, expecting her figure to weave through the people milling about on the pavement. Her bright, warm face and eyes all mischievous as they met him. And he didn’t know why a sudden memory came to him right at that moment. St Mary’s Church wasn’t unknown to either of them. They’d pissed off the priest too much by age 14, having broken in one too many times and knocked over a silver candlestick.

Since the church was no longer suitable for their mischievous evening excursions, they’d moved onto the local museum, noting that the CCTV around the fire exit didn’t work. Once inside, he didn’t question why she was wearing her school skirt and a mucky top, skipping about on the marble floor like they were much younger than they were.

If he’d asked now, he wouldn’t have liked the answer.

If he’d asked then, she wouldn’t have told him that her mum had been lying unconscious on the sofa for the better part of eleven hours. She wouldn’t have told him that the kitchen was so messy and piled high with dirty dishes that Environmental Health had been called round by the neighbour. She wouldn’t have told him that she wore her school skirt because it was the only thing in the house of hers that was relatively clean.

“Quiet Wash!”

“Don’t call me that. I get enough of that at school.”

“Fuck me, sor-ry,” she grinned, nudging his shoulder with hers, “this place freaks me out.”

“Fuckin’ boring, more like. Remind me why we’re here again?”

“For our weekly therapy sessions of course!” she beamed, covering her mouth when the echo carried further than she intended, “got any sins you need to confess?”

Billy huffed, loosening the school tie from around his neck, swinging his long, gangly arms as they wandered through the dark hallway. He only answered when they passed the ‘Victorian Era’ section.

“Didn’t take you for the religious type.”

“I’m not, but sins is a good word.”

He smiled at that, “Ummmm, I suppose I cheated off someone for my Maths test earlier.”

She turned to him abruptly, a look of delight and horror on her face, “You did not! Who off?”

“That weirdo Andy.”

“Aw, he’s not a weirdo. Just…misunderstood.”

“Like how you’re misunderstood?”

As soon as the words came out his mouth, Billy regretted them. Mostly by her reaction. A forced laugh, graced with a settling of her eyebrows into a grimace at the end.

And by how she tried to change the subject.

“You still going on holiday on Friday?” she asked.

“Yeah, going to see the grandparents. Back on Sunday though.”

“That’ll be nice, to see them I mean,” she added with a shy smile.

He hated how desperately shy and cowardly he was not to say what was on his mind then. That he would miss her, in the barely two days he’d be away, he knew he would.

But he never told her.

She never seemed to hold it against him at the time. Or even now from what he could detect.

A subconscious smile wormed its way to his face, remembering how the twitching of the security guard’s torch whipped at their backs as they desperately ran for the fire exit.

They’d ran and laughed completely out of breath. Their heads high on adrenaline and excitement, swearing and shouting whenever they’d snagged even the tiniest of inconveniences. He’d even lifted her over the gates, turning bright red at catching sight of her knickers through her school tights, not that she’d noticed, and jogged with her to the nearest alleyway, throats raw and lungs burning as they gasped for breath, smiling widely.

He missed being young with her.

And now he thought that even if people weren’t slipping away, the personalities seemed to.

More people dropped by for the wake at the Forester, not Billy’s local, but known to him.

He remembered being here twice before now. Once with his mum and dad for a Sunday carvery, when his dad had said the mash was ‘lumpy’ and ‘he could load a gun with the roast potatoes they were that hard’. They never went back for food.

The second time, he’d come with her. They’d barely turned 18 and were enjoying flouting the use of their provisional licences by ordering some of their first legal drinks at the bar. He’d ordered a pale ale, and she’d had a bottle of fruity cider. Billy at least remembered she didn’t like the bitter taste of normal beer, and found what she lovingly dubbed ‘fruit shoot for adults’ more acceptable.

Even in the awkward little booth all the Washington’s were squeezed into, choked by silence, it made him smile remembering the face she’d pulled when she got a taste of his pint.

“You working?”

He’d barely had a moment to tear himself from his memories to look up and see his sister’s face as she’d asked the fated question, a brief flicker of annoyance passing his face at her smug expression, knowing the answer before he had a chance to reply.

It hadn’t taken her long to slip back into her bitchy older sister mentality then.

“Is he bollocks”, the same warning glance turned to his dad, who was by now, several glasses of whiskey deep.

Mum’s driving again, then.

He searched his mind quickly for his go-to answer. He had several choices.

I’ve applied to some this week, just waiting to hear back.

Was at the job centre the other day.

Stopped by the garage, handed in my CV.

But he settled for, “It’s just tough at the minute”, with his lips flat, looking at her from under the blonde wisps of hair on his brow.

Lana raised her eyebrows, not smirking specifically, but clearly amused at his dull response, “Oh, right?”

I’m not fucking doing this. Not sitting here to be labelled as the family fuck-up. I already know that.

He thought that with his Mum sitting next to him and Lana and his dad opposite, he was more his Mum, and Lana more his dad. Not only in their colouring, in their temperaments and attitudes as well. As hot-headed and stubborn as they both were, his dad would always always stick up for her, whether it was the right thing to do or not.

A sort of alliance, so to speak.

“Drinks, anyone? Mum?”.

“Don’t be such a mardy git”

“No, Dad, just leave it, all right?”

Now that came out harsher than anticipated, more forceful. And Billy saw the look of acceptance on his dad’s face, as if Billy had given him exactly the reaction he wanted to justify his early opinion of his only son.

So Billy did the only thing he thought would help.

He got up and left. Cheap round at least, if it’s only him drinking.

She’d only just locked her car when she saw Mr and Mrs Washington pouring out of the Forester. Billy’s mum was much more grey than blonde now, with grey hairs peppered between the otherwise golden strands. His dad, though he still had a stern face, was much more rounded, rosy-cheeked from alcohol, and hair thinning atop his head.

But Billy’s mum lit up when she clapped eyes on an older version of the girl she once knew.

“Hiya, duck, you alright?” she beamed, squeezing with the force only a mother could give when she pulled her into a hug.

She wondered if she hugged Lana like this.

It felt nice, she was ashamed to admit, to have motherly love. Just not from her own.

“You alright, Mrs Washington?”

“Oh darling, it’s Val, come on now”, she smiled, the wrinkles around her eyes sinking in as she pulled away, “you’re a right little madam now, aren’t you? How was your degree? History, wasn’t it?”

She smiled, trying to make it not seem sad, “Yes, it was good, thank you”.

“You’re back for good now, aren’t ya?”, the gruff voice of Billy’s dad joined Val’s side, his expression impartial and his throat sounding scratchier than she remembered. Perhaps he was back into smoking.

“Yeah, I’ve uh…got a place not far”.

“You'll have to come over for tea, duck. Been far too long since we've seen you”, Val smiled widely, “anyway we've got to get off, Lana's inside if you fancy saying hello”.

The thought of having dinner with them again, the people who she'd very often seen as her own pseudo-parents, and often saw them more than she had her own mother, set off a warmth that fizzled in her chest.

She couldn't deny how nice it would be, to catch up with them all again.

Sometimes being at their house was like watching her own TV show, The Washingtons, watching them bicker across the table, sometimes in harmless quips and sometimes evolving into full on arguments.

Her and Billy would always sit next to each other, raising their eyebrows in a manner that expressed their discomfort. Always followed with a stifled giggle.

And there it was again. The lingering thought that, those days were gone now.

The pub had an immediate bitter smell to it when she first walked in, the stifling heat of bodies hitting her immediately, and the slight stench of sweat.

She thought, there was no place for judgement of people sweating, having to wear black to a funeral during a heatwave.

She spotted the group of guys at the bar first, all with their black blazers off, and the top buttons of their shirts undone now that their inhibitions had faded the more alcohol they drank. They laughed loudly with each other, but she didn't see Lana until she stepped out, she was so short compared to them.

“Hi Lana”, she smiled when she was close enough.

Those familiar blue eyes looked back, wide-eyed and joyful, the lines around them crinkling much like Val’s.

“Hiya! God, what you doing down this way?” she asked, giving a quick hug in greeting like she was seeing an old friend.

“I've moved back down for work and…to be with people I know again,” she replied, her eyes solemn, “I'm sorry about Nut, really…and I hope you're alright.”

She saw her face drop a bit like she might cry again and let the emotions take the reins, before the eldest Washington sighed, “Thanks. I'm alright. It's…just a shock.”

She nodded, unable to find the words to follow up. But luckily, in her alcohol-addled state, Lana changed the subject quickly and raised her eyebrows, in the way she always did when she was being slightly judgy.

“No mates up north then?”

“None worth keeping”, she smiled, which Lana mirrored.

“You having a drink?”

She thought, fuck it, might as well have one and still drive home, “Yeah go on then”.

They waited at the bar while the man behind it poured pints, pulling on the heavy lever every few seconds.

“I'd’ve thought Billy would have mentioned you.”

She couldn't help it. The statement took her so off guard her face must have blanched, though she tried to smile and make up some quick excuse, Lana simply smiled, her cheeks red. Clearly she'd had quite a bit already.

“Got ya”, Lana grinned, “he tells me fuck all but I know when something's happened. I'm not stupid.”

Shit.

“Just please tell me you haven't fucked. Otherwise I'll vomit right here.”

Her lips parted without her realising, heat rushing to her face at the bluntness of it. Bloody hell, alcohol made Lana an entirely different person.

“I-what? - no!”

“Oh, thank god for that,” she sighed dramatically, “it'll be good to have you back anyway, he's been a right miserable sod since you've been gone.”

Now that caught her attention.

“What do you mean?”

“He's always been a mardy bugger but he's turned the fucking dial up to 100, especially since Becky walked out on him.”

That was news to her.

She felt herself deflate a little. And didn't know why.

She lifted her eyes at the faint smell of second-hand cigarette smoke.

“Billy!” Lana beamed, “another drink? Treating your big sister?”

A chill settled in her skin at the mention of his name, and the fact that she'd known he was there before Lana had even said it. But a dull warmth crept back in, when she locked eyes on the other Washington, seeing his surprised expression at her presence.

They almost, almost, smiled at each other.

He cleared his throat and ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it off his forehead, “Yeah, alright, do you…want one?” he asked, looking tentatively at her, eyebrows arched with nerves, leaving space between them at the bar like she might bite him.

“Just one, thanks. Driving”, she replied with a thin-lipped smile.

Billy nodded awkwardly and didn't even have to ask what she wanted as he tapped his card against the machine.

The bottle wasn't even in her hand two seconds before Lana beamed, cheeks tinged with drunkenness, “Off for a fag! Be right back”.

She shook her head as Lana waddled to the fire exit with another guy in a suit. As drunk as she seemed, she understood full well that she was leaving her little brother and her by themselves on purpose.

Billy seemed to understand this too, as he watched his sibling disappear with a heavy sigh.

The two sat on a tiny circular table, lined sticky with old beer that had barely been wiped off. And at first, neither of them knew what to say. Billy had never replied to her text message, so she wasn't sure if he was just doing this out of sheer politeness, or if he actually wanted to give it a go.

“You been alright?”

The sound of Billy's voice was so unexpected that she nearly stared at him mouth agape.

“Oh, yeah, um…got the keys to my flat the other day”.

Billy leaned back in his chair, undoing the top few buttons of his black shirt and tugging the tie down with it, “Nice, then?”

A smile broke free, “It'll do.”

Shockingly, he smiled at that as well.

“I'm sorry about Becky”, she started, trying to think of a follow-up when Billy threw a daunted look at her, “Lana mentioned it…sorry-”

“Nah, it's fine. She just can't keep her gob shut, can she.”

She smiled again as she sipped her drink, Billy did the same. Something warm drifted through the air between them.

“Saw your parents as I was coming in.”

“Oh, yeah?” Billy raised his eyebrows expectantly, “bet Mum's already tried to feed you her foul cottage pie again”.

“It wasn't that bad.”

“Oh come on, who the fuck puts marmite in a cottage pie?”

It felt nice to laugh with Billy.

Felt natural.

And when their eyes lingered after drifting into silence, she felt that if she looked any longer, the waterworks would really begin.

There was a flush on Billy's cheeks, like there had been on Lana’s. Whether it was sunburn or alcohol, it was difficult to tell.

But from the way Billy found it easy to smile, she would guess the latter.

She watched the way his lips parted and closed a few times, as if he wanted to say something. Years and years of feelings left unsaid, waiting on his tongue.

A distant voice seemed to shake them both. A familiar yet unsettling one.

Billy watched his friend go all rigid, pale and unsettled as she seemed to spot someone at the bar behind him.

He'd seen this look on her face only a handful of times.

With a half empty bottle of cider, she threw her bag over shoulder and quickly got up, “I have to go.”

He wasn't sure what quite got over him. The inhibitions had faded somewhat.

“What's wrong?”

She shook her head swiftly, “nothing, I just-”

When Billy looked behind him, he recognised the gait, the self-assured tone of his voice. He looked older than them, much older, from years of heavy drinking and smoking.

The boy she knew from school. The one she'd cried over.

Billy remembered that afternoon, hugging her to his chest at Cranstead Fields, after he'd shattered her confidence and broken her heart.

She grabbed his sleeve, “Billy, stop it, please-”

“And what?” His head snapped back, eyes wide and eyebrows arched in anger. The flush on his face made him look less endearing now, and more tight with rage.

“Just leave it,” she practically begged, her eyes flitting from her tall friend to the man, who mercifully had not noticed them.

Her hand slipped from his sleeve, feeling as if more than anything else, she was annoying Billy over feeling nostalgic about their friendship. And embarrassment nipped at her skin as she tugged the bag over her shoulder, her eyes sinking from his.

“Come on, I've got the car. I can take you home.”

“No.”

“But Billy-”

“Nah, got to stay here with Lana.”

She bit her lip, feeling as if he wasn't being entirely truthful, but it was good enough of an excuse that she didn't have a reply.

“Alright…well, look after yourself, okay?”

She'd barely taken the step before his cigarette-scratchy voice boomed across the bar, “there she is! Billy's only real mate, back from the dead!”

Billy watched her expression arch in something akin to pain, hearing his voice and what he'd said. And it was this moment that Billy realised he hadn't even remembered the bastard's name, only what he'd done to her.

She couldn't even really bear to look up and see his face again, to have to look into his eyes, the twist in her heart was much too painful.

“The North not want you either? Come back for some mor-”

It turned out she didn't need to. The entire pub seemed to erupt with excitement of both the bad and good kind as Billy's body twisted drunkenly and his fist barrelled through the man's face, grazing his jaw clumsily.

The ‘mates’ around him simply caught him as he stumbled back, but were too drunk themselves to find the situation anything but a bit funny.

“What the fuck did you say?!”

“Billy, fuck, Billy stop! He's not worth it!”

Billy barely moved even with her hands on his chest, pushing him back, watching his flushed face harden with frustration, stern blue eyes still trained on the man who was trying to find his footing.

“Get out my way.”

Her stomach flipped as his fingers easily wrapped around her wrist to gently push her away. At least having the mindset that he should be tender with her.

“Fuck’s sake, Billy, stop.”

He seemed near-fixated on the situation around the man he'd just assaulted, heedless of the repercussions.

But the tone of her voice made his blue eyes flit down to her.

He'd not heard that shift in a long time.

They seemed to stare at each other for a long moment. Not even realising that the man's mates had dragged him into the nearest taxi they could flag down, and that the bar idea had gone all quiet.

Billy shook his head as if shaking himself from a memory, “I need a fag.”

“Billy-”

She reached for him, but he disappeared out the fire door, a pack of cigarettes gripped so tight the package was yielding to his touch.

He'd slipped from her grasp. Once again.

And even though it wasn't the first time, she felt the grief of it all like it was.

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