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pink-sparkly-witch · 4 days ago

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Sauvage, Part Four

Summary: Jensen finally meets Y/N, the woman Jared and Gen say is perfect for him. Just as they think they have their happily ever after, opportunity knocks taking Jensen halfway across the world. He’s determined to make their relationship work from an ocean apart, but it’s a lot harder than either of them bargained for.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Female Reader

Rating: General

Triggers / Warnings / Tags: fluff, a baby shower

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: Please consider leaving feedback, a comment or a keyboard smash. Interaction really fuels a creative’s muse. If you’re too shy or don’t want people to know you read fanfic and don’t want it showing on your blog, you can submit an anonymous ask or drop me a DM 💖

My Masterlist AO3 Ko-Fi

It’s been eight years since Jensen left for Paris. In the end, he spent five years there. He’d finished his training with the highest honours, and when he talked to Jared about what his next move should be, his best friend knew what he was trying to ask and told him Y/N had just gotten engaged.

Without Y/N, Jensen had nothing to go home for, so his decision to take an apprenticeship in the most decorated restaurant in Paris had been made for him. He knew it would kill him to see Y/N living her life with another man – the life he should be having with her if he’d only fought harder.

But he hadn’t. He missed her so much that he’d almost quit and gone back home. The other chefs on the course reminded him that very few were lucky enough to be accepted into the programme and that if he wanted Michelin star success, he needed to stick with it and see it through.

They were right, of course, and Jensen knew that deep down. Still, missing Y/N hurt so damn much, and he pulled away from her so he could get used to Parisian life, culinary school, and his homesickness. As it turned out, he pulled too far for too long, and by the time he realised what he’d done, he was so ashamed and guilt-ridden that the only way he knew he could make it right was to end their relationship.

Even now—after three years at culinary school, two working in a Michelin star restaurant in Paris, another three in a New York triple Michelin star restaurant—as he stood in his own restaurant in Austin, not fighting harder for Y/N was still his biggest regret.

“I cannot believe this place! It’s beyond amazing!” Gen squealed excitedly as she exited the kitchen and walked towards him.

“Yeah?” he smiled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

“It’s incredible! You must be so proud, Jay. Everything you’ve worked so hard for, everything you’ve sacrificed, has been worth it.”

He was proud. He’d spent the past eight years doing nothing but working hard, learning continuously, and saving every spare cent he had. This was his dream—it had always been his dream, but when he met Y/N, that dream grew into something much bigger. Something he’d now never get to have.

“Yeah, I am. Getting here has taken a lot of blood, sweat and tears, but I made it!” Jensen said, swallowing down the bittersweet ache he was becoming far too familiar with.

“So,” Gen grinned. “Sauvage, huh?”

“What? You don’t like it?” he asked, curious to know what one of his closest friends thought about the name he chose for his restaurant.

“Oh no, I love it,” she smirked. “With the whole long hair and beard you’re rocking these days, making you all rugged and… wild… I think it suits you. The name and the facial hair!”

“Hey!” Jared’s playfully irritated voice grumbled from the kitchen. “I know you’re all hormonal and pregnant and all, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t flirt with my best friend. It gives a guy a complex!”

“Can you blame me? Have you seen him lately?” Gen chuckled, moving into her husband’s arms and tiptoeing to kiss him.

“You’re lucky you’re cute!” Jared winked at her and pulled her close. “So, when’s opening night?” he asked Jensen.

“All the safety checks are booked in over the next two weeks, and lots of deliveries are due, too. All going well, we’ll be opening the last weekend of the month for food critics, press, family and friends.”

“Oh! Does that mean you can cater my baby shower next week?” Gen asked, blinking up at Jensen.

“Sweetie, do you think that’s a good idea?” Jared questioned gently. “Not that I don’t want you to do it,” he turned to Jensen. “It’s just that Y/N’s going to be Godmother, and she’s hosting the party.”

“Hey, listen, I get your concern. Thank you. I appreciate it,” Jensen said. “But, like it or not, Y/N and I are part of your lives, which means we will cross paths. We’re both adults, and it’s been so long that I doubt any feelings are left between us. And she’s married, right? So even if something is still there, I won’t jeopardise that for her.”

“She’s not,” Gen frowned. “Well, technically, she is, but they’ve been separated for two years now, and she filed for divorce a couple of months ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Jensen felt his heart skip, but he was genuinely sad about her failed marriage. “Still, it’s been a long time, and like I said, I’m sure there are no feelings there anymore.”

“You sure, dude?” Jared checked, and Jensen nodded.

“So, what are you thinking about the baby shower? Is there a theme? Are we blue again, or do you think this one will be pink?”

“We want it to be a surprise. So I’m thinking neutral colours, afternoon tea vibes,” Gen smiled. “And I really appreciate you doing this for us.”

“Hey, what are best friends and the godfather to one of your other children for, huh?” he winked. “Just do me a favour and check that Y/N’s okay with it first. I wouldn’t want to upset anything on the day by being there.”

Jensen arrived at Jared and Gen’s house early to have plenty of time to prepare the food for the baby shower. He’d been surprised when he’d arrived and found the entire first floor decorated beautifully.

“Good morning!” Gen chirped when he walked into the kitchen.

“Wow, this place looks amazing, sweetheart!” Jensen smiled gratefully at the mug of coffee she handed him.

“It does, doesn’t it?” she agreed. “I have no idea when Y/N came in to do it all, but she did an amazing job.”

“Where is she?” he tried to hide his nerves but hadn’t managed to convince himself, let alone Gen.

“She took the boys out for breakfast to give me a little quiet time before the chaos starts. Jared is still asleep, taking advantage of an empty house!”

“And why are you up?”

“Nerves, excitement, baby kicking my bladder, heartburn, nausea… take your pick!” she smirked behind a mug of ginger tea.

“Anything I can do to help?” he asked, but Gen shook her head.

“No, thank you, Jay. I’ll finish this and then go and get ready for the party in peace!”

Jensen kept to himself as he worked in the kitchen. Jared and Gen had checked in with him a few times, and their two boys would come in frequently to “help”. Mostly, all they did was make a mess or try all of the food, but Jensen adored spending time with them, so he didn’t mind.

He’d heard Y/N’s laugh throughout the day, and the sweet sound still sent a shiver up his spine. He’d lost count of the number of times he wanted to go out there and see her and talk to her, but every time, he chickened out. He didn’t think either of them would cause a scene and ruin Gen’s day, but he didn’t want to take the chance.

As he was cleaning the kitchen, Jensen heard the sounds of laughter and chatter increase substantially and knew that Gen and her guests had finished eating and it was time to open gifts. He continued scrubbing the sink, his back to the door and froze when he heard her.

“Hi.” It was such a simple word but it was beautiful.

He closed his eyes, a soft sigh leaving him at hearing the voice he never thought he’d hear again.

Finally, Jensen turned towards her and he swore his heart stopped beating for a few seconds. She was just as breathtaking as the first time he saw her.

“Hey,” he swallowed. “It’s been a long time, huh? You, uh… you look great.”

“Thanks. So do you. I love the beard,” she smirked and he laughed, feeling his nerves melt away.

“Here, let me take that,” he stepped forward and took the cake she was holding from her and placed it down on the kitchen island.

“Thank you,” she said as she walked across the kitchen to get a knife. “Gen’s exhausted, bless her! She doesn’t want everyone hanging around for too long after the gifts so I thought I’d save some time by cutting this up and putting some in the party favour bags.”

“What are we gonna do with her, huh? Baby number three and she still won’t slow down!” Jensen chuckled.

“I don’t think she’ll ever change!” Y/N laughed.

“No. You’re probably right!” he grinned.

“Hey, let me do that. You go back to the party.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“You didn’t. I’m offering. Here,” Jensen reached out for the yellow frosting-covered knife. “Go and enjoy yourself. Or at least keep an eye on mom-to-be out there and make sure she doesn’t overdo it!”

“Okay. Thank you, Jensen,” she smiled softly as she handed him the knife and returned to the party.

“Any time,” he stuttered out to her retreating figure. Hearing Y/N saying his name again after so long made his breath catch in his throat. He was a fool to think he wouldn’t still have feelings for her.

“Why don’t I take the boys out for a few hours and you can go and have a warm bath or a nap?” Jared said to Gen when the last guest had finally left.

“That sounds really, really good, but I need to clean up,” Gen yawned.

“I’ll do it,” Y/N offered, already picking up glasses and teacups and heading towards the kitchen.

“You will not! You’ve done enough already,” Gen insisted, waving off her best friend’s help.

“Yes, I will. And you will do as your husband suggests, and go for a bath and a nap. You look like death warmed up!” she chuckled.

“I’m pregnant, not sick!” she whined. “Jensen, everyone is ganging up on me! It’s not fair!”

“Sorry, sweetheart. I’m on their side with this,” Jensen laughed at the petite pregnant woman’s scowl from his perch leaning against the kitchen door.

“Traitor! I used to like you,” she pouted.

“Are you seriously arguing about cleaning rather than napping?” Jared huffed in amusement.

“You’re right. That is stupid,” Gen frowned, recognition about what she was causing a fuss over finally settling in her brain.

“Alright then, I’ll leave y’all to it and go take a nap!”

“Good,” Jared kissed her forehead. “As always, you’re doing too much.”

“Y/N, are you sure you’re okay with this?” she checked again.

“Yes! Now, go and lie down!” Y/N insisted.

“I’ll help,” Jensen added. “It’ll be less work for Y/N, and we’ll be out of your hair quicker.”

“Okay. Thank you. All of you,” she squeezed her husband’s hand gently. “I really appreciate everything you guys have done.”

“Any time, Mama,” Y/N said as she walked towards her best friend and hugged her. “Go and rest while you can. Jensen and I have got this, and I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Jensen and Y/N worked side by side in a comfortable silence. They were content for now at being in each other’s familiar company. It shouldn’t feel so right after so many years had passed, and yet, it felt like no time at all by the way they worked around each other.

“So, how have you been?” Jensen eventually asked as they found themselves with nothing more to do than the dishes and taking the trash out when they left.

“Uhm, good, I guess. What about you?” she answered vaguely, making him frown.

“You guess,” he chuckled, and she sighed.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Jay. We haven’t seen or spoken to each other in a long time. I’m sorry I don’t want to make you uncomfortable by telling you that my life has hardly been a dozen red roses every day since…” she trailed off.

“Since what? I left? Darlin’–” he paused at her glare and held his hands up in a gesture of apology. “Sorry, that just slipped out.”

“It’s okay,” she smiled softly and made sure she had his gaze. “I’ve been good, Jensen,” she repeated, not sounding any more convincing than she had before.

“Somehow I don’t believe you,” Jensen smirked.

“Does it matter?”

“It does to me. But I get that I’m not entitled to know anything about you, or if you don’t feel comfortable talking to me about it. You can though. If you want.”

“I do. Because, like it or not, we’re living in the same city again and we have the same friends. It’s gonna be a lot more difficult avoiding each other now. And I don’t want that for Gen, Jared and the kids. I don’t want that for us. I just don’t think this is the time or place to have this conversation,” Y/N explained.

“Then let me take you for a drink,” Jensen shrugged like it was the simplest thing in the world.

“Okay,” Y/N agreed.

“Yeah?” Jensen checked, sounding shocked.

“Well, don’t sound too surprised!” she giggled. “Unless you were expecting me to say no?”

“What? No! Not at all, I don’t know what I was expecting,” Jensen blushed, and Y/N giggled again.

“Name the place and the time, and I’ll be there,” she smiled.

“The Grove, eight o’clock?”

“Alright. I’ll see you there.”

<<<Part Three Part Five>>>

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#sauvage #jensen ackles x reader #au jensen ackles x female reader #chef au #jensen x reader #fluff

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world-of-wales · 2 months ago

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✦ UPCOMING ENGAGEMENTS

THE PRINCE OF WALES TO VISIT MENTIVITY -

📅 Thursday 24th April 2025

The Prince of Wales will visit Mentivity, an organisation committed to empowering young people by ensuring they have access to high-quality youth services and safe spaces where they can thrive on Thursday, 24th April 2025. The organisation, founded in 2016, engages over 400 local young people weekly through mentoring programmes, school outreach and youth clubs.

He will visit Mentivity House, the organisation’s community centre, and youth hub based on the Aylesbury Estate in south London. Opened in March 2024, Mentivity House provides a space for creativity, connection, and growth, offering workshops and youth clubs, plus community initiatives, including food and hygiene banks.

The Prince will meet Mentivity founders, Sayce Holmes-Lewis and Leon Wright, who will share how their upbringing on the Aylesbury Estate has shaped Mentivity’s innovative approach to supporting young people and creating opportunities for lasting change. He'll also will spend time with the young people supported by Mentivity and have the opportunity to engage with some of the activities the organisation provides.

During his visit, His Royal Highness will join a roundtable hosted by entrepreneur Tim Campbell MBE - a former winner and current advisor on The Apprentice - who has recently become a Mentivity patron. The roundtable will bring together representatives from local businesses to discuss the value of apprenticeships, barriers young people face when accessing these opportunities and how local businesses can collaborate with organisations like Mentivity to create sustainable employment routes.

#british royal family #brf #british royalty #royal #prince of wales #the prince of wales #prince william #william prince of wales #upcoming engagements #william's upcoming engagements

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lewkwoodnco · 1 year ago

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the tortured poets department - george karim x reader

George stiffened and shut his eyes regretfully as if he couldn’t bear to see that look on her face. A faint flush started creeping up his throat, peeking out from behind his starchy collar. “Don’t,” he whispered.

“Tell me,” she pressed, taking yet another step closer until their noses were barely an inch apart, “who else is going to know me? Truly know me?”

He let go of the breath he was holding and it fluttered across her cheek like the ghost of a kiss. They were venturing into intolerably intimate territory, and she could feel her pulse racing under the distracted brush of his thumb on her wrist.

a/n - HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH thats it thats the a/n also happy birthday to ali hadji-hesmati ia m NOT late shut up

tropes/warnings - slight nsfw towards the end (idk tho??), angst (what else is new lmao), tw slight mention of suicide, ft locklyle wedding (a bit) happy ending tho, i am very sick wrote this entirely on my phone and cannot be held accountable for any of this

word count - 3.7k!

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST

Who uses typewriters anyway?

That was what she had mouthed at her friend from across the Fittes office. They were brand new hires; scribes assigned to different researchers under an apprenticeship programme. Things were off to a rougher start than she had expected. From what she could see, her friend had been assigned to a perfectly normal-looking researcher who, now that introductions were complete, was explaining his filing system to her.

On the other hand, the first thing her oddly intense researcher had asked was if she knew how to use a typewriter. She had laughed, thinking it was a joke, before very quickly realising that he was being perfectly serious. He started explaining how the contraption worked far too quickly for her to catch anything, and she had taken the chance to shoot her friend a look.

“L/N?”

She whipped her head back around, immediately apologetic. “Sorry. I think I get how it works now.” Really, it was just bad luck that she had gotten the short end of the stick.

The next thing she learnt, over many months, was how to pick up on and decrypt George’s nonverbal cues. Namely, knowing what his every sigh, muttering or frown meant. While it had felt frustrating similar to banging her head against a wall in the beginning, he started to grow on her. Learning how George Karim ticked was like figuring out an intriguing puzzle all on her own. Besides, he wasn’t unkind. He could be understanding, so long as he had the patience for it on that particular day.

But there were times when she decided that no, he wasn’t all that compassionate of a coworker. Particularly on nights when he’d have her write up chapters worth of research summarised from his scrawled notes. And woe betide her should she make one too many mistakes.

Who the hell uses typewriters anyway?

"Do you ever think about leaving Fittes?"

Her typing stopped abruptly, her flickering train of thought completely demolished by George's appalling suggestion. They were sitting at their adjacent desks at the Fittes office, her typing up the previous night's case report while George twiddled his thumbs and fiddled with a pen in increasingly creative ways.

"Leave? And go where?"

She followed the line of his hateful stare towards one of the thick metal doors along the corridor which led to a more restricted part of the offices. Like most others, she felt no pressing inclination to snoop around and stumble upon information she would rather not find. But for someone like George, she could practically see how it gnawed at him - libraries of secrets just begging to be known.

Her gaze flitted anxiously between his face and the door. It was both a frightening and thrilling thing when George decided to put his mind to something, using his brain at its full capacity in some sincerely earnest hunt for knowledge. It was also the thing that was going to get him killed sooner or later, mesmerising as he was. It. Mesmerising as it was.

"Start our own agency. Play by our rules."

She laughed nervously, too artificial even for her own ears as she wrung her stiff hands. George's voice had a distant quality to it that told her he was on the way to making some very bad decisions if she didn't step in soon. "Oh, George, you say the…the darnedest things. You're no Tom Rotwell, you know."

"You're not Marissa Fittes yourself, either."

"Rude."

His gaze flickered to her at that, the barest hint of a smile ghosting his lips as the tension in his shoulders dissolved. She visibly relaxed as well, satisfied that it would be a decent while before he once again latched onto this bizarre notion.

Which was why his abrupt switch in employment to some small, crumbling agency had left her more than shell-shocked. Coming into work on a normal, gloomy Monday and seeing George's desk cleared out and painfully sterile of the ideas and theories he buzzed with left her feeling lost at sea in the worst way. And he didn't bother to reach out to her either - not a call, not a letter, not a visit.

That is, not a visit until he turned up at her door in the middle of the night, pale as the Visitors that skulked outside her door.

"Sorry.”

For one stupidly miraculous moment, she thought he might be apologising for a month’s worth of grey days and sleepless nights.

“I know it’s late, but I think I left my typewriter here."

She felt stupidly disappointed.

"You're making a mess of my - what are you doing?"

George had located his otherwise untouched typewriter positioned at one corner of her dining table and was now furiously typing away, a sickly, pallid sheen to his forehead.

"Don't worry, I'll be qui -"

"Karim."

His typing faltered, and for once he had the decency to look marginally embarrassed.

“Sit down. Start from the beginning.”

So he did. He told her everything about some Type Two case at 62 Sheen Road, short of coming out and saying that he had put his associates' lives in danger, but she could hear it in his voice. It was an almost welcome return to the old days of picking out the relevant parts while his mind ran ahead at the speed of light; so much to think and agonise over. When his voice finally started to run thin, she fetched him a cup of tea, taking a moment to process it all.

"Okay, so, if I have this right, none of this is your fault. No - don't argue with me. Drink your tea. You told him to wait, that you needed more time.“

He mumbled something incoherent as he pulled off his glasses, dragging a hand across his eyes, looking far too young and worn. He glanced up to meet her gaze, the look on his face as much of a wreck as the rest of him. He looked down again, staring at his hands splayed on her dining table. George never was one for letting his feelings show, let alone hysterics, and it rubbed at something raw to see him spiralling this badly.

“They’d be better off with a researcher who could actually do his job.”

She suppressed the overwhelming urge to roll her eyes.

“Oh, please, this has nothing to do with being altruistic. This is just you trying to punish yourself over something that isn’t even your fault.”

He showed no sign of having heard her. She sighed and slid into the seat next to his, her fingers nearly brushing his.

“Look - what's done is done. Possibly the worst thing you could do now is leave them in the lurch like this. Of course, it's not going to be smooth sailing throughout, but you made a commitment, so for the love of God keep your head up and stick it through.” She reached out to loosely cover his wrist. “Okay?”

George stayed silent but glanced up at her. Okay. She pulled her hand away. He finished the last of his tea and stood.

“I should get going, I suppose.”

She looked out the window, eyeing the eerie green glow of the ghost lamps critically. “It’s a bit late, don’t you think? Not very safe.”

“I have my rapier on me.”

The corners of her mouth tightened.

“I’d feel better if you left in the morning.”

And so they ended up in her living room, him sitting on the floor and her sitting on the couch, dragging her fingers through his soft curls. They talked about everything and nothing, like the recent layoffs at Rotwell’s and what George’s new associates were like. He made them sound marvellous. It was obvious why he’d leave Fittes. Why he’d leave her.

“The three of us…we live at 35 Portland Row.”

“Mhm.”

“And there’s this doughnut shop down the street from there.”

She lightly scraped his scalp teasingly.

“So that’s why you left.”

She could feel him smile despite himself.

“We should go, someday. You’d love it.”

A vision trickled into her imagination - she and George standing at the end of some empty cobblestoned road with soft, pillowy doughnuts dripping sugar down their knuckles, sprinkles melting into their fingerprints. It’s evening, and the sun is almost painfully intense, beating down a lovely glow over the scene. She’s distantly aware of the impending danger of the rapidly approaching nighttime, but for now, George is standing in front of her in a soft shirt, the edges of his face kind and blunt, the almost permanent furrow of his brow melted away in the liquid sun, reaching out to swipe a thumb at the corner of her mouth -

“Get some rest.” Her voice was thick with a longing for such golden yet treacherously illusory days. George leaned back, resting his head on the couch with half-lidded eyes, his breathing evening out as he drifted off. She gently slipped her fingers out of his hair. She gently pulled his glasses off but before she could put them someplace safe, she was out like a light herself.

She had a fitful sleep and blearily woke up a few hours later, George’s head an oddly comforting weight against her knee. She groggily pulled herself up and tossed a blanket at the figure slumped against her couch before fetching a glass of water and some paracetamol.

Shortly after, George lurched awake like he was sweating out a fever, heart thudding and eyes restless. He groaned, no doubt wincing at the pounding behind his eyes. He caught sight of the water and medicine placed next to him but looked away after a moment of consideration. She raised her eyebrows pointedly, knowing only too well the kind of hell his overactive mind was capable of putting him through.

“How’s your head?”

She hadn’t meant to sound that sarcastic, but it was enough for him to get the hint. He relented, taking a sip of water and then one of the pills just for good measure.

"Good. Now go home and get some proper rest, you moron."

She watched him stumble down the road till he turned the corner, trying to hide how shaken she was by his panic. She sighed wearily. Only a month at Lockwood & Co. and already he would be a desperate wreck without them. She turned back inside, trying to ignore how empty her dining table looked without his typewriter and how vacant she felt without that flimsy excuse for him to see her again.

Years passed. She and George somewhat kept in touch, but it had still been extremely startling when Lockwood & Co. reached out to her with plans to expose her employer, Marissa Fittes. Amongst the tragedy of Portland Row being reduced to rubble, Kipps nearly dying and the Skull almost moving on, unemployment was the least of her concerns.

Still, it wasn’t all sad once Lucy had proposed to Lockwood after one too many failed attempts by the latter party. They had planned a relatively intimate affair, only inviting some old friends of the ex-Fittes employees of the group.

They held it at an inexpensive banquet hall just a few minutes away from Portland Row. Lucy looked gorgeous and glowing with happiness under the gentle warm lighting, and Lockwood looked dashing in a suit not much more formal than his regular one. He spent the majority of the reception denying that he had teared up at the first glimpse of Lucy at the end of the aisle, insisting that his best man was a pathological liar.

After the main event, the guests milled around, having drinks, and occasionally congratulating the happy couple. As expected, Lockwood became very drunk very quickly, enough to pull out some terribly nonsensical yet oddly stirring comment.

“Here’s to the first day of the rest of our lives.”

She glanced across at George. He met her eye. They immediately looked away. She could have sworn she felt a hitch of some breath between them. She felt the prickle of tears behind her eyes. Lucy was desperately trying to shut up an overly emotional and hence overly talkative Lockwood who looked ready to launch into a speech no one asked for.

“That’s enough now, or we’ll have Kipps bawling all through dinner.”

It wasn’t exactly a sit-down dinner, though there was appropriate seating. Half of the guests were eating and the other half were having fun with some party games. She was watching Holly struggle at Twister when she felt someone slide into the seat next to hers - namely, the best man, George.

“Hey.”

She grinned, flushed from the champagne she had been sipping all evening. “Hey.”

“Having fun?”

“Lots.”

He couldn’t help but return her smile, looking a little tipsy himself. “I can tell.”

They ate in silence for a while, only the tinny sound of the radio’s strain and cheers from the party games filling the space between them.

“I think I missed you at the bouquet toss earlier.”

She nearly swallowed her spoon. He had noticed? He noticed her? She didn't know how to tell him that she couldn't see herself marrying anyone that wasn't him. How could she wake up every day knowing her better half was somewhere out there miles away, wondering if he wished for someone as moron-shaped as her?

“Oh, well, that’s not really my thing. More of a bridesmaid than a bride.”

She resumed eating, presuming that line of conversation to be over until she noticed he was still looking at her strangely, his cutlery stationary in his hands. Her chewing slowed in an attempt at dignity.

“…what?”

He lifted her right hand off her knife, making her heart thud dangerously. Wordlessly, he pulled off the sapphire ring on her middle finger and oh-so-delicately slid it onto her ring finger instead.

“I think you’d make a wonderful bride.”

She stared at the ring, speechless. It wasn’t a proposal, but it wasn’t nothing either. Maybe…maybe this was a second chance at something. Maybe he wouldn’t screw this up this time.

He almost reluctantly relinquished his grip on her hand. She didn’t dare meet his eye. Even his voice, quiet yet slightly rough, felt unbearable to hear.

“Were you mad? When I left without telling you?”

She had waited months to hear those words.

“I wished you'd talked to me about it first. Just...just to make sure your head was screwed on straight.”

He nodded, and they returned to their food, the silence a lot less giddily amicable now.

“So, would you have - “

“Absolutely not. God, no. I would have told you to stay ten feet away from Anthony Lockwood at all times.”

They looked over to where Lucy was helping Lockwood sit down, having unfortunately thrown his back out at Limbo. She winced. “He’s such a wild card.”

“I suppose I am too.”

She turned, curious, and he looked as though he regretted letting that slip out. Her voice dropped, taking on a softer edge.

“Not to me. Not when it’s you.”

He stared at her like there was something bloodied and hungry behind his eyes. She felt this twinge of something in her chest. Oh, how could she bear this? How could she bear him?

Sometimes, part of her wished she were a book - one completely enthralling and riveting, chock-full of secrets eager to slip out and lose themselves in thin air. Perhaps that was just a manifestation of her paralysing desire to be known and to be known by him.

“I should go,” George was saying as he finished up the last of his food. He stood, wiping his mouth, wandering off to find his coat. Maybe it was the liquor or the unfamiliar buzz of hope in the air tonight, but there was some odd tone of finality to his voice. She watched him leave, chewing her food thoughtfully, not feeling very hungry anymore.

As the minutes trickled by, it began to feel exhausting to be surrounded by so many happy couples, happy people, all that revolting joy and merriment. Only a short while after George had left, she located her own coat and weeded Lucy out of a throng of people doing the Macarena.

“I think I might head out now. Congratulations once again, Luce.”

“You too? Aww, thanks. Have you decided about the job offer from Madison?”

“I haven’t written back yet, but I think I’m going to turn them down. I was thinking about talking to Lockwood someday to see if he could take on one more employee. Plus, Madison’s a bit far out, and I’m pretty comfortable where I am.”

“Good. George might have just offed himself if it weren’t for his course at Edinburgh. I mean,” Lucy tripped over her words over the stunned look on her face, “I’m sure he was just kidding.”

“Hang on. Edinburgh?”

“Yeah. For his supervisor training. Did he not tell you? I thought for sure he…”

Lucy’s words muffled into oblivion and bled into some horrible ringing sound. Her mouth felt painfully dry. No. This couldn’t be happening.

“…he wanted to wait till after the wedding to tell Lockwood. Didn’t want to put a damper on things. Don’t get me wrong - I’m just as cut up about it, but…” They looked over to where Lockwood was watching the limbo game from afar with a forlorn expression. “…you know Lockwood.”

“What the hell, George.”

He jumped, freezing with his hand buried deep in his pocket, tediously hunting for his keys. She had managed to catch him at the front porch of Portland Row, looking especially guilty under the tepid glow of the ghost lamps.

“You’re training to become a supervisor?”

His face briefly twisted in annoyance. The audacity. “I told Lucy in confidence -“

“When were you going to tell me, Karim? Or were you just going to let me find out all on my own, like last time?” She wanted to laugh cruelly. There was nothing merciful about this knife in her chest. “I mean, why do this? Why lead me on and make me feel things and give me hope?”

“When have I ever led you on?”

“Then what was all that with my ring? Huh?” Tears sprang to her eyes once again, hot and shameful, stinging like a caustic disinfectant to an open wound. She felt so, so stupid.

“You said you didn’t care.”

“I did care!” she snapped. “Of course I fucking cared. I don’t think I could have stopped myself from caring, not when I know you like the back of my hand.”

“But you don’t care. No - tomorrow you’re going to board a train and move out of my reach and meet someone new to soothe the turmoil in your head and you won’t feel my heart bleeding for you. And if you’re very, very lucky, you might find some semblance of happiness -“

“I weigh you down!” The tirade died at her lips. Fury lined every shadow, every crevice of George’s face. He spat his words out with such venom, utter distaste. “I weigh you down…like a child. You pick me up when I fall down and kiss it better because that’s the kind of person you are. I can’t sentence you to a lifetime of running around trying to save me. I won’t do it. I’ll find someone else.”

A burden. He looked through her eyes and all he saw was a shrivelled excuse of a companion, dragging her into his depths of despair. She’d be lying if she said she never felt suffocated by his baggage. But there were some burdens you didn’t mind shouldering, not when you loved them so tenderly.

After all, who was going to unravel his every pause, stutter, sigh, and ache as she did?

“But who else is going to decode you like I do?”

“Tell me,” she pressed, taking yet another step closer until their noses were barely an inch apart, “who else is going to know me? Truly know me?”

There was a brooding, resigned look in his eye as if whatever he had been running from had finally caught up to him. He bowed his head and their foreheads touched. Her arms nervously reached around his neck, his hands on her waist steadying her as if to keep their balance on whatever strand of peace the moment had proffered them.

Her lips hovered over his shoulder, clavicle and jaw. She felt him reflexively tighten and loosen his grip, restless fingers fiddling with the folds of her dress and how they wrapped around her body. She brushed against the shell of his ear and felt a shiver run up his spine.

“Who else is going to hold you…like me?”

He turned a fraction and she briefly registered the lack of hesitation in his dark eyes before he finally closed the last of the gap between them. He pressed his lips to hers, soft yet intentional. He tasted like champagne and smoke and promises long-forgotten yet unbroken. It was a dizzying sort of relief to feel that years-old desperate want coiled inside finally melt through arms and fingertips buzzing with curiosity.

After that first touch, it felt as though they couldn’t get close enough, let alone pull themselves apart and have the brisk evening air rush in and nip at sensitive skin. She heard the doorknob rattle as George fumbled with it. After a short struggle, they stumbled into a nearly pitch-dark Portland Row, urgently shucking off each other’s coats and scarves. Her mind was running a mile a minute, her scalp tingling with electricity; white noise over the scrape of his teeth against her skittering pulse.

Her thoughts fragmented. At Fittes. In his room. In her apartment. His typewriter sitting glossy, polished, untouched, maddening -

George Karim was the most affected prick she had the misfortune of knowing. It was bad, bad luck that she was so irrevocably tied to him.

TAGLIST: @cielooci @mohinithoughts @neewtmas @snoopyluver20 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @ahead-fullofdreams @elenianag080 @avdiobliss @mischivana @mitskiswift99

#lockwood and co #lockwood & co #lockwood and co netflix #fanfic #fanfiction #george karim x reader #george karim imagine #george karim

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pitlanepeach · 17 days ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/pitlanepeach/785717951905120256/what-university-did-you-go-to-i-assume-you-did-a

Wait that’s exactly what I’m currently looking into!!! Any tips or advice? Please share!!

-🐝

Okay, so the best thing you can do is find an entry level position at any law firm. Literally any. Receptionist, assistant, etc. Then I’d suggest taking a level 3 course online. I took the ILSPA Level 3 legal secretary course when I was 17. After that, I began a 2 year level 4 paralegal apprenticeship.

I’m now a fully qualified paralegal and have the option to study again and become a Chartered Legal Executive if I wanted to!

But after becoming a paralegal, you can go on to do further legal apprenticeship programmes and become a solicitor. (This is in the UK)

#🍑 asks tab #it’s a money saver

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scotianostra · 4 months ago

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Anne Alexandra Young Wilson was born on 4th March 1935 at Dalmarnock, Glasgow.

Anne became famous using the stage name Nancy Whiskey in the 1950′s when she had a hit with the song Freight Train alongside the Chas. McDevitt Skiffle Group.

If Lonnie Donegan was the king of skiffle, then Nancy Whiskey, who has died aged 67, was fleetingly its queen. As vocalist with the Chas McDevitt Skiffle Group, she had a top five hit in the summer of 1957 with Freight Train, arecord that also penetrated the American top 40 at a time when British artists rarely made any headway.

Her success came in that confused time, in the aftermath of the breakthrough of rock 'n' roll in 1956, when British record buyers, searching for an exciting, homegrown musical form, encountered both local rock 'n' rollers and skiffle.

Freight Train was driven by Whiskey's ebullient soprano and McDevitt's whistled obligato. It was the group's first single, and its upbeat arrangement belied the gloomy lyrics of its 1905 composition by black North Carolina singer Elizabeth Cotton. Its unexpected US success led to appearances by Whiskey and McDevitt on the Ed Sullivan Show, and other television slots, and a handful of stage shows, including one at Palisades Park, New Jersey.

Whiskey was born to a musical family in Glasgow. After her father, a lorry driver, taught her the guitar, she performed on the local folk club circuit while attending art school as part of her apprenticeship as a potter. Among her fellow students was Jimmie McGregor, the singer and guitarist later resident on Tonight, the BBC television magazine programme of the late 1950s and early 1960s. He introduced her to blues and hillbilly music, though it was from a Glasgow folk song, The Calton Weaver - with its "Whiskey, whiskey, Nancy, whiskey" chorus - that she took her stage name.

On McGregor's recommendation, she was signed to the independent folk label, Topic. After moving to London in 1955, she was reluctant to surrender her growing reputation as a solo performer, but was persuaded to join the Chas McDevitt group for a Radio Luxembourg talent contest.

After their US appearances, Whiskey and McDevitt recorded a well-received album, The Intoxicating Miss Whiskey, and managed another Top 30 entry with Greenback Dollar. The failure of the follow-up, Face In The Rain, was among the factors that led her to resume her solo career. Another was her pregnancy, and subsequent marriage, to pianist and drummer Bob Kelly - he was not yet divorced, and the episode triggered a brief flurry in the tabloids.

With Kelly in her backing group, the Skifflers, Whiskey put out three more singles and an LP, Nancy Whiskey Sings, before the skiffle craze was over.

Renaming her accompanists the Teetotallers, she broadened her appeal with more generalised pop and jazz standards, and proved capable of quite a sophisticated cabaret act. Despite releasing other singles her early commercial success never led to sustained chart sales and by the 1970s, family commitments had forced Whiskey into virtual retirement, though from her home in Leicester she resurfaced occasionally, most recently at a skiffle revival with Lonnie Donegan, at the Royal Albert Hall in March 1999.

Nancy Whiskey passed away in February 2003, aged 67.

#scotland #scottish #history #musician #guitarist #skiffle

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sgiandubh · 2 years ago

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More clarity on OL's filming schedule

In a rather unexpected way, via OL's in-house training program developed together with Screen Scotland (the Scottish public authority competent for film & TV production) and the London based, privately owned Screen Skills. This program now includes BOMB, which is going to be shot simultaneously. I was, therefore, wrong to predict its slashing/demise and have no problem saying so. This is not the only training program of its kind in Scotland, as other TV series (River City, Good Omens) do exactly the same - they also lack OL's transparency and/or are currently closed for applications, so there's no way to compare wages or job criteria, for example.

You can find more information at this link: https://www.screen.scot/skills-and-talent/skills-development/outlander-training-programme

They seek to recruit 20 people, who are going to work in 17 different departments, from Accounting to Stagehand:

Salaries exceed UK's National Living Wage/National Minimum Wage, which, FYI, currently range between £5.28/hour for an apprentice aged under 23, during his/her first year of apprenticeship (on Minimum Wage) and £10.42/hour for a worker aged 23 and more (on Living Wage). This is an excellent thing: I also have my own thoughts on this, but you will say again I am an unapologetic S defender (which I am, by the way).

You won't find the finer details on that portal link, though. I took the example of an Accounting trainee to see more about the calendar, which is the same for all provided placements (https://www.surveymonkey.co.uk/r/2RNZTR7) :

Easy to suppose, then, shooting could start somewhere along the January 8 - January 15 bracket.

I know, I am still to discuss McTavish. I was tired yesterday night and didn't want to churn out a meh post about it. This and the upcoming Sun Tzu 'quote' will have to do for the (European) day. :)

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etherealspacejelly · 2 years ago

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you quit your software engineering job to pursue environmental science?? do tell!

(i have a software engineering job. it makes me sad.)

so when i was like. 10. i had this teacher who taught us basic scratch programming. and i was like. freakishly good at it. i picked it up super quickly and was even helping the other students to fix their problems. and so he said to me "you know, you could be a great computer programmer one day" and i was like. yeah! i could!

so throughout highschool my One and Only goal was to become a software engineer. every time i went to the career counsellor thats what i said. so i did computer science at gcse, and got a 9, and i did computer science at a level and got an A*. (i did other subjects too of course. but those were the ones i was focussed on)

then i finished my a levels and i went straight into looking for an apprenticeship. no one was really interested in me because i didnt have any experience or a degree. so then my dad got me an internship with some guys he knew at a company that worked in his building, and i managed to build up some actual industry skills. then i got an apprenticeship! it paid super well and the team was great and it was work from home.

and i hated it.

i was just sitting in my room at my dads house 9-5 mon-fri writing code all by myself. it was lonely and boring and i didnt really know what i was doing. it was supposed to be an apprenticeship but it just felt like a job. they didnt teach me how to do anything they just said "do this and come to me if you run into a problem". half the time they didnt even give me any work to do for days at a time so i was just watching youtube or scrolling on tiktok. which sounds great but it wasnt because i felt guilty the whole time and was terrified of being found out and fired, even tho it wasnt my fault? they literally werent giving me work to do?

anyway. a few months into it i was like man Fuck this. im going to university. so i started looking at courses. it actually started with astrophysics, but since i didnt take a science at a level i didnt have the requirements for that. then i found environmental science! it was all the stuff im passionate about: climate change, conservation, natural processes and earth science. so i worked on my application letter and applied, and i got in!

so i went to my boss and was like hey. im putting in my notice. i got into university. and they were like "oh noooo we're so sad to see you go :( you were doing so well and we were so pleased with your work and your progress :(" (and i was like. huh?? i literally didnt fucking do anything. but oh well.)

so i worked until the end of my 6 week notice and then i handed my stuff back in and left. i had a bit of a summer vacation and then started uni! and ive been here for just over a year now :)

its honestly so much better. i have so many new friends, i got to move out of my mums house, im in full control of my life.

so take this as your reminder that its never too late! you can always change your path.

you are in control.

#inbox #ask #inbox open #life advice #software engineering #environmental science #university #career change

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isahorcrux · 2 years ago

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love, james | chapter 6: a basically nonexistent what-if

James likes Lily. And Lily likes James. How the hell did it get so complicated?

Love, Rosie, but make it Jily. Written for the Jilytoberfest 2023 Rom-Com Event.

listen to the playlist here

James stared at the words on the thick piece of parchment he’d only just pulled out of its envelope. Dear Mr. Potter, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into the Cartography Program at The Salem Witches Institute… The owl had arrived earlier that day, a large horned owl that had a mean look about him. His own owl, Percy, had hidden for nearly a whole hour after the other bird had departed. His mum had wanted him to open it straight away, but James found he couldn’t bring himself to even pull the seal off the envelope, much less read its contents, and in front of his mum? What if he hadn’t gotten in? What if he had to explain to his mum and dad that, yes he’d had ample amount of time to send off other applications and had done very well on his N.E.W.Ts, but somehow hadn’t even applied to one other programme or apprenticeship.

continue reading on ao3

(and yes, I got bored with the old chapter header, so now I'm mixing it up)

#love james #isahorcrux writes #jily #james potter #lily evans #fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #fanfic #jily fanfiction #jily fanfic #flowerpott

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michaelclarke971 · 2 years ago

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Check Out Early Careers & Development – Career Opportunities with Boots

Ready to kickstart your career? Or are you looking for a new challenge or a change of job? Boots have lots of opportunities for you to develop and shape your career; from apprenticeship programmes to on-the-job training programmes.

#apprenticeship programmes

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cut-the-camera · 4 months ago

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Heat Above - United Kingdom

MAIN PAGE

Chapter One

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eurovision

liked by bojan_cvjetićanin, charlotte.ledge and 27,878 others

eurovision 'Take Me to Liverpool!' Jack Ledgister will represent the United Kingdom in Liverpool with his song 'Take Me to Church'! 🇬🇧🎉 #eurovision2023

Jack_DLedgister Ahh! i'm so excited! Thank you everyone for your support x

User178 Winner <333 Love from Sweden!

User657 basic white boy number 5678

User723 Kinda boring ngl

User883 Love the song!!!!!!

Felixweshovenn Proud of you mann!

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The Guardian Writes:

The UK's entry to 2023 has been announced as Jack Ledgister. The singer-songwriter will represent his country after being selected by the same process as last year, in which the BBC worked with a music management company.

The 24-year-old will perform his track Take Me to Church at the competition in May, in an attempt to follow the success of Sam Ryder in 2022.

"Sam Ryder was so incredible last year and showed that the UK can be taken seriously in Eurovision and be really successful," said the musician. "I'm really excited to participate in Eurovision this year and represent the UK! I've loved watching Eurovision all my life, so to compete in such a massive music competition is so incredible."

Take Me to Church, Jack Ledgister's entry to the 2023 UK Eurovision song contest.

Ledgister co-created his track with famed internet songwriter Nathan Sharp, who he works with on an upcoming Netflix series around the time he was scouted for the competition. "I wrote the song about a really hard time in my life where the people around me and my friends were literally life saving to me" said Ledgister, "so to be able to showcase it in this year's UK Eurovision song is honestly a dream!"

The singer released his debut album 'Everywhere, Everything' in 2021. Ledgister has previously supported Hozier on tour in 2019 and has been a back up dancer to Ariana Grande later on in the same year.

His music has been streamed millions of times on YouTube and reached over 100m streams and 2.5m monthly listeners on Spotify. He was signed to his first record contract while doing an apprenticeship at the Royal Opera House

"BBC Studios are so excited that our own Jack Ledgister will be flying the UK flag on home turf in this very special Eurovision year," said Suzy Lamb, managing director of entertainment and music at BBC Studios. "We could see from the very first time we met him that he is a ball of positive energy and we can't wait for the rest of Europe and beyond to fall in love with him and his fabulous song."

Ledgister will appear on a special programme on 9 March at 8.55pm on BBC One, Eurovision 2023: Meet the UK Act, where he will be interviewed by Scott Mills. It will also be the first televised broadcast of the song, which was announced as the UK's entry to Eurovision 2023 on this morning's Zoe Ball Breakfast Show on Radio 2.

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"Let's do it! What was your first reaction when you got the call? Did you say yes there and then?"

Jack took a deep breath before answering "Yeah basically yeah I did, I was in New York around people who'd never even heard of Eurovision before so they had nooo idea what I was yelling about when I finally put the phone down," he gave a laugh that felt a little too rehearsed which made his nose crinkle in a slight cringe.

"Did you explain it to them?"

"I did yeah!! And afterwards they thought it was really cool and I even roped in the amazing Nathan Sharp, Natewantstobattle to help me with the music for it"

"How do you feel following in the footsteps of Sam Ryder?"

The phrase 'shitting myself' came to his mind first and foremost but he quickly realised he couldn't swear on BBC 1.

"I....feel very honoured to be able to do that, Sam is such an amazing talent and I really hope I can do his like...legacy and the country proud"

"You will you will" Scott reassured, "if I hadn't heard your music before, how would you describe it to me?"

"Oh wow... I've experimented with a lot of music genres over the time I've been making music and honestly this song is nothing like anything I've ever made before, I tend to prefer making either pop or folk music but I'm in no way like adverse to making heavier thing like maybe rock sometime"

"Tell me about your.... stage history because Eurovision won't be the first time you've ever been on stage right?"

"No no it's not, I mostly did theatre and dance growing up and still now sometimes and then I ... just didn't have the time for music and live performance as much with like school and things but after I left ballet school I really gave myself the time to do new things like live performances, i was lucky enough to open for just the legend that is Hozier back in 2019 and then festivals and things and I ended up really liking it!"

"After all of this experience, how are you preparing for Eurovision?"

"I...I'm still working at the minute and i honestly hope that i can keep working for as long as possible but around that I'm fitting in time to work mostly on the choreography and how the staging's and lightings going to look seeing as that's another area that i...well i mean i work in lighting so all of this just makes my heart happy to be able to keep doing"

"That's awesome well Jack we wish you so much luck and we can't wait to see what you do with such an amazing stage!!"

"Thank you so much Scott!"

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Jack_DLedgister