#ask british willy

[ask-british-willy-weasel]

Yer a Cockney chav, aren't ya?

"Yeah wha' ov i' bro'v?"

[harrywavycurly]

I am not a fan of Joseph’s hair right now.

[silverjirachi]

I have to know, is it Afton as a character you want or the finely aged Matthew Lillard portraying him

Afton as a character. I have actually been a stealth William enjoyer since like 2018 but wasn’t around as many people who openly simp for fictional characters and especially not a dead guy in a robot. Though it CERTAINLY helps that Matthew Lillard aged like fine wine

[angeygirl]

No I don't know why it's important to me to make a dumb little fanfic about Henry and William at McDonalds but it is

[an-theduckin]

What is the blood brothers steamboat Willie conspiracy musical about

Arghhh my first draft of this explanation got deleted so writing this again. Its set in 1900s, in Liverpool,UK. There was a recession at that time and huge gap between working class and middle class. So these r the context yeah alr. Oh and it's a musical btw.

So! The play starts with two people getting shot dead. Curtains fall. Narrator comes in with his monologue introduction. Then the play actually starts. A working class women Mrs Johnstone gets pregnant. She has alot of children, is superstitious and religious, but she works as a cleaner and has enough money to just barely scrape by for the new child. But turns out she's gonna have twins. She's super sad abt this and vents 2 the middle class women she work for about this, who is Mrs Lyons. Mrs Lyons is unable 2 have children but wants children so she volunteers 2 have one of the twin from her. She manipulates her into agreeing 2 this btw, even made her swear on the bible and stuff. She said that Mrs Johnstone can come see her son everyday since she work for her but as soon as she get the child she fires her. She even makes up a bullshit superstition that's this.

Anyways. The twins are Mickey and Edward. Mickey is the child whom Mrs Johnstone kept, and Edward is the child whom Mrs Lyons took. When they were seven, they meet each other at the park and became friends. They don't know they're brothers, and they find out they were born at the same date so they become "blood brothers". They also play together with this girl Linda (she's important remember her. Yes she's the future love interest, predictable ik). The mothers find out abt this friendship so Mrs Lyons move away to a different place. Some time later the council move Mickey and Linda's families into a different place, which just happens to be near Mrs Lyons. Okay so time skip. Age 14, Mickey and Edward meets again. Linda and Mickey are clearly crushing on each other but Mickey is too much of a pussy 2 ask her out. They become friends and grow up together and stuff. The narrator constantly comes in with his gay little dramatic monologues btw, he's an omnipotent character and also plays the mean background characters such as the kids mean teacher, the milk man who refused 2 give milk 2 Mrs Johnstone, the gynecologist who adds onto Mrs Johnstone's worries, etc. Anyways back to the plot. They're like 18 now. Mickey finally ask Linda out and they start dating, Edward goes off to university while Mickey goes work in a shitty place with shitty hours and wages. He says that when Edward come back (it'll be Christmas btw) he'll make a Christmas party with the money he's saved up. Time skip. Linda becomes pregnant with Mickey's child, they marry. The recession happens and Mickey gets fired from his job. He can't find a job anywhere else. Edward comes back from university, he ask Mickey where the party is, he's super out of touch. Mickey snaps at him and yeah it's super sad.

Anyways. Edward goes and ask Linda out, saying he's always crushed on her too. She rejects him saying she's already married 2 Mickey. Mickey's older brother Sammy tells mickey that he'll pay him lots of money if he works as a lookout for his "job" (which is robbing people). Mickey agrees. They get arrested and mickey gets sent 2 jail for like 7 years. He becomes addicted 2 antidepressants and is an ass. Linda got mad abt this so she cheats on him with Edward. Mrs Lyons find out about this so she go snitch on them on Mickey. Mickey gets super mad, takes a gun and goes 2 Edward's work. They argue and Mickey wants 2 kill him. Mrs Johnstone shows up and tell them the truth.

And Mickey accidentally shoots Edward. Edward dies. The policemen shoots Mickey. Mickey dies. Mrs Johnstone is super sad. The narrator comes in 2 finish one last monologue. The play ends.

This is the first and last narrator monologue btw. He's super cool and dramatic I love him sm <33

This is a super tragic play including the themes of Nature Vs Nurture, social class, growing up/childhood, superstition etc. It's really good you should totally watch it. Here's the musical soundtrack of it btw!

Also thanks 2 @socko-10 for making the edits on the dialogue pics 2 make it look more dramatic and Pinterest-y loll :3

[ravenpuffheadcanons]

For the book rec ask game, 119, 122, 125, & 126 (I think that's all the seasonal ones!)

This is a delightful ask - thank you!

Favourite summer read - Three Men in a Boat (to Say Nothing of the Dog) - Jerome K Jerome (in the public domain here)

I love this book so very much - this silly, joyful, (at least partly) true story of three incompetent men trying to take a boating holiday on the Thames, and mostly failing. It is summer in a book. It started out as a real travelogue, so there are a few rather tedious passages where Jerome tries to go back to his original plans and indulges himself in some proper purple prose, but it is mostly as light and sparkling as sunshine on the water. True story: when I lived in a tiny studio flat and only had room for about twenty books, this was always one of the twenty. I have to have it to hand at all times in case of emergency.

Favourite winter read - Doomsday Book - Connie Willis

This time travel/pandemic novel (written in the early nineties) is set in and around Christmas in the 1300s and 2060s. It wins my heart with its interesting and mostly authentic depictions of faith (Willis is a Christian), its vivid recreation of the 1300s, and its fascinating time travel mechanism. She loses points a bit because almost everything else I’ve read by her stretches my credulity far past breaking point, and also because she appears to view British (and, in other books, Irish) people as a species of mythological being, but this is still one of my all-time favourites. For years I read it every Christmas - I haven't read it since Christmas 2019, for obvious reasons, but I think it might be time again.

Favourite autumn read - The Spy who Came in from the Cold - John Le Carré

I don't remember if this is technically set in autumn, but I associate it strongly with that time of year, probably because of old black and white spy films where people wear trenchcoats and stand about mournfully in the rain. I always like a spy thriller in autumn. It's set partly in East Germany, and Le Carré is really interested in exploring the morality (or otherwise) of how the intelligence services on both sides of the war conduct themselves. This is where I started with Le Carré and I'm so glad, because I think he'd really hit his stride by this point - the earlier books are a lot weaker, in my view.

Favourite spring read - The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe - CS Lewis

I found this one hardest to pick, for some reason - none of my forever favourite novels seem to be set in spring. In the end, I had to go with a very obvious choice: the moment when the spring begins to come in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe after years of it being always winter (and never Christmas). I can still remember it years after I last read it! And, of course, it is an Easter book, so that makes it extra spring-like for me.

Ask me for book recommendations! I will definitely be long-winded in my answers!

[ohbabydollie]

Hi pookie!! i was wondering if you could do jschlatt x a british s/o- like a blurb or something of how he makes fun of them, names he call them ect! tyy

british “people”

he’ll start mimicking your accent and when you ask why he’s talking funny he stops and acts like nothing happened

makes fun of your food if you say anything about the way he eats

“you eat like you have free healthcare” “and you eat like the germans are still flying overhead”

“how are the brits gonna colonize for the spices but never even use em?”

makes fun of british slang and the way you talk😭

says you talk like how a 5 year old would

“do they sell squirty cream here?” you ask as schlatt looks at you disturbed “SQUIRTY WHAT??”

“jus’ call em sprinkles, not fuckin’ hundreds and thousands”

if you ever do an american accent around him it can go two ways

a: he looks at you disturbed and tells you to never do that again

b: says “finally, you’re speakin’ normal, is the bit finally over?”

makes jokes that are either you’re not human or england doesn’t actually exist

especially if he ever posts you

captions look like this: my favorite “british” person, i love british “people”

makes fun of the royal family and asks if you’re having tea with them later that evening in a british accent

calls you a barbie villain

makes up bullshit words to make fun of you

“we call these light switches but in england we call them flickly flicky willy donka”

“this isn’t a sheet of paper, it’s a flippy flappy white thin”

he tells you that you’re mere steps away from talking like willy wonka

[youwouldntdownloadapizza]

The Pleasures of The Unknown | Kate Middleton x The Unknown (Glasgow Wonka Experience 2024)

masterlist | ao3 | follow @youwouldntdownloadapizza and turn on notifications for updates

When Kate Middleton mistakenly ends up at a magical chocolate factory in Glasgow, she finds herself drawn to a mysterious cloaked figure with a penchant for dark chocolate.

pairing: Kate Middleton x The Unknown (Glasgow Wonka 2024)

rating: 18+, minors DNI

word count: 1.2k

tags: crack, crack treated seriously, crack fic, smut, mild smut, finger sucking, chocolate, sex and chocolate, light BDSM, choking, thigh riding, rpf, bald harry styles, balddry, infidelity, glasgow, willy wonka experience - freeform, glasgow willy wonka - freeform, Balmoral, british royal family, unhinged innuendo

chapter warnings: smut, infidelity

Kate Middleton stared at her bangs in the Buckingham Palace bathroom mirror.

"I can't go out like this," she complained to William. "The Sun will rip me a new one!"

"Kate, my dear," he kissed her on the cheek, turning to lean against the counter. She continued tugging at her botched fringe until he took her hand. "It's just hair. It'll grow back."

"That's rich, coming from you."

William looked down at his royal bunny slippers with a frown. Even they had more hair than he did. Perhaps he should have them fashioned into a wig. He'd have to ask his frenemy, Harry Styles, for wigmaker recommendations.

"I don't know what to do." Kate looked up at her husband with tears in her eyes. He wiped them away with his royal hanky.

"I do," he smiled. Sliding his hand into his back pocket, he produced the royal AmEx.

"Take a holiday, Kate. Go to Balmoral or Hollyrood for a few weeks. Grow them out. Maybe even get that BBL you've been talking about getting. Scotland is a great place to recover from surgery. What with all the free healthcare and all, innit?" he said Britishly.

"You're so right, William. I'll leave first thing tomorrow."

---

Kate double-checked the address her husband had given her as she stepped out of her royal Uber Black.

"This can't be the right place. Balmoral was never this colorful!"

The cabbie rolled down his window. "Don't worry, ma'am, this is Willy's place! Be quick and get inside, it's looking like rain."

With a soft 'innit', the driver pulled away, and Kate was left on Willy's doorstep.

She assumed 'Willy' was short for her husband 'William', but as she entered the foyer, she began to have her doubts. The place appeared to be some sort of magical chocolate factory.

Although sparsely decorated, the place maintained some air of whimsy. Well, less of an air, more of a spritz, but clamato, clamato.

"Soo la voo," Kate shrugged, walking beneath the sparkly, styrofoam rainbow and towards whatever fate awaited her here.

"Ahh, more guests! Welcome!" A depressed-looking woman in a green wig approached her.

"Here, compliments of Willy," she said, sliding a plastic cup containing a splash of what appeared to be sparkling lemonade into Kate's left hand. Into her right went a single jelly bean.

"What is this?" Kate asked.

"Our welcome gift to you! And only $40, such a deal."

Kate supposed $40 was a fair price for such splendor. After all, if bananas were $10, this was surely worth four times that. She popped the jelly bean and washed it down with the lemonade.

"Carry on down the hallway. Your future awaits."

Kate left her luggage and her empty cup with the so-called Oompa Loompa and proceeded down the bare linoleum hallway. That uncanny-valley candy landscape tapestry really ties the place together, she mused.

A voice greeted her at the end of the hall.

"What. Is. That?" A blonde man in a red top hat and coattails pointed towards an unassuming mirror.

Why, that's me! Kate Middleton! Kate Middleton thought to herself.

Kate nearly leaped out of her skin when the creature emerged from behind the looking glass.

"It's...THE UNKNOWN!!"

That's when Kate fainted.

When she awoke, her head was spinning. "Where am I?" She asked to the blackness that surrounded her.

A deep voice answered her. "You're in the walls. This is my home. My own dark chocolate factory."

"Your what?" Kate asked.

As her eyes adjusted, she realized she was in a small bedroom combined with a confectionary workspace, almost a studio apartment of sorts.

"My dark chocolate factory. You see, Willy Wonka seeks only to pump this world full of river-churned, high-fructose, milky delicious bullshit. What I aim to create is something far more sophisticated. Far more complex. And far, far darker."

"Oh? Might I try some?"

"Why of course," the silver-masked, black-hooded creature pulled back its sleeve to reveal long, nimble fingers.

He crossed to his chocolate worktable and dipped his index and middle fingers into a whirring chocolate fountain. The creature stalked towards her, extending the sample.

Kate leaned towards him, but froze. "Before I suck on your fingers, I should probably know your name."

The creature angled his head, as if considering her. "I have no name. I am only...The Unknown."

Kate's heart raced in her chest. That chocolate, those fingers, it all looked simply divine. And if William could be unfaithful, why couldn't she do the same? She deserved it, just this once. As a treat.

She opened her mouth, and The Unknown slid his fingers past her lips. She sucked deeply, the flavor sliding across her tongue and down her throat, the complex flavor and intensity of the delivery method sending shivers down her spine.

"Are you cold?" He asked.

"A bit," Kate admitted.

"Well then," she could hear the smirk in his voice even if she couldn't see it on his face. "Perhaps I'll have to warm you up myself."

Kate bit her lip. "Would you...put your willy? In my chocolate factory?"

His fingers closed around her throat. She drew a sharp breath.

She could feel his breath as he whispered in her ear, "Forget willies. Forget chocolate factories. Allow yourself to submit, to embrace the pleasures of The Unknown."

Kate let out a shuddering breath as she gazed up at that shiny mask. She didn't know what lurked behind it. She didn't care.

She kissed him then, the plastic of his mask hard against her soft lips. And then she was sprawled on the bed, his knee between her legs, and she was grinding against him.

"Oh, The Unknown!" She moaned.

"Please, there's no need for formality. Call me The."

So Kate did. She sounded like the gilded first word of a sponge's term paper as she wailed his name over and over again, into the dark stillness of this secret room behind the walls.

"I'm close," Kate moaned.

"Good girl."

He leaned down to kiss at her neck. The rough edges of the cheap mask scratched at her sensitive skin, but she didn't care. She was lost in the pleasures of The Unknown.

It was the hair that brought her to the edge, something her husband could never give her. The chemical scent of his cheap, black wig filled her nostrils as she rode his thigh, dangling there on the precipice.

"Ohh!" Kate screamed as she came, her thighs shaking with pleasure as she clenched around nothing.

A low, satisfied chuckle rumbled at her throat, and she swooned. After all these years of marriage, William had never rocked her world like this masked stranger just had. As they lay there together, she slipped into the chocolatey darkness of slumber, utterly content.

---

When Kate returned home, butt bigger and bangs longer, William had wanted to hear about her experience in Scotland.

"What was your favorite part?" He asked.

"I learned a lot about myself on this trip," she told him. "But the most valuable lesson was in learning to embrace the pleasures of the unknown."

"See, a little uncertainty is good sometimes!" He teased, tugging on her much-improved bangs before giving her a soft kiss.

"Mm," he smacked his lips. "Tastes like chocolate."

[latibvles]

AND ANOTHER ONE. willie x brady 'a kiss while slow dancing' because They ❤️

A KISS WHILE DANCING.

u guys remember when John Brady promised Willie three whole dates in London because I do. I think about that every day actually. Anyways here's them they make me so [SCREAMS]. I need to be adopted by them actually I think that would fix me.

—

Never in his life has John Brady been more grateful for their monthly passes to London. Three whole dates, that’s what he promised Willie in Africa, and now he was making good on that promise.

She’d taken his arm, and then his hand, earlier on and even though she’d kissed him in his fort, the wind felt knocked out of John all the same when she took it. Sometimes he thinks she’s doing this on purpose — all her little smiles and squeezes of his hand meant to yank him like a dog on a chain. He knows she isn’t though, because everytime he turns it on her, her cheeks are just as flushed, her smile just as beautifully shy.

He feels almost like a teenage boy again as twilight settles, they’ve still got time before the blackout. Yesterday they saw what they could of the British Museum — John watched Willie eye things with a curiosity that warmed him from the inside out. He asked questions just to hear her prattle off facts about where things were from, their significance.

He didn’t kiss her last night and he was still kicking himself for it now.

He wanted to. Hell he'd been thinking about it the whole damn time — all he could ever think about was how she'd kissed him in his fort. How the heat in there paled in comparison to what had finally come to a boil between them. The feeling of her hips against his callous-torn hands, and the damn noise that she made against him, unexpected and pleased.

Why he doubted that she'd want to kiss him again after that, John doesn't know. He'd just thought too hard about it and wanted to knock his head against the doorframe once the door shut with such a definitive click.

Willie stalls as they pass by a building — a quick glance inside tells him it’s some makeshift dance hall — music spilling out into the cobbled street, and John looks back at her curiously as she eyes it with a smile that makes him take in a soft breath. He doesn’t think he’s ever really gonna get over all the little expressions she makes, contained yet bursting with color. He wants to memorize them like his favorite sheet music.

“You’ve played this one before,” she points out, and John starts listening properly. Huh, she’s right. His foot ends up tapping the tempo almost instinctively. Still, he can’t help teasing.

“Paid that much attention to me, huh?”

“Well I definitely wasn’t dancing,” is Willie’s immediate straightforward reply with a raised brow and- Oh. Right. He can feel the heat creeping up his neck even as he smiles, eyebrows raising to his hairline as he scratches at the tip of his nose. He feels almost sheepish at that admittance, as expected as it may be. He’d be an idiot to pretend he couldn’t feel her eyes on him during all those nights in the Officer’s Club — he’d only hoped that that soft look was reserved for him as opposed to being brought on by the drink in her hand. Well it was, Johnny, so what’re you gonna do about it now?

It feels like a bit of a lightbulb moment. He’s tugging her towards the open door.

“C’mon.”

“Huh?” He looks back at her just to drink in that mildly confused and tenderly surprised expression on her face. It’s nice being the one to throw her off her rhythm for once, instead of it being the other way around.

“If you think I’m skipping out on a chance to be your first dance this whole damn war, we’re getting your head checked.” So maybe he’s being dramatic, but she doesn’t oppose him. She just squeezes his hand, lets him lead her into the dimly lit space. Tables and chairs scattered about, refreshments, people in service uniforms and civilian clothes all dot the space and occupy the floor itself. They slip in effortlessly as one song ends and another begins — still jazzy, but a lot slower. It’s the tempo that has him pausing, looking at her. “Do you mind?”

Willie’s expression is unreadable for a couple moments — but then she’s squeezing his hand again. Maybe it’s the space making it feel more intimate, the way she flushes and gives him that indiscernibly soft look of hers.

“Can’t step on your toes if we’re not moving too fast,” she breathes out. Her grip tightens on his hand, not enough to hurt, but still tight. He wants to ask and so he does.

“Never done this before?”

“Never done it well.” John smiles at that, in a way he hopes is reassuring before they find their own spot on the floor — he leads one of her hands to his shoulder and tries not to shiver at the barely-there weight of it, his hand finding the small of her back. Being this close to her elicits a full-body reaction he has to stave off: a shiver as she looks up at him with those impossibly dark eyes, a trembling breath he tries to keep even. Her eyes dart to their feet and John leads them in a sway.

“Well that I just don’t believe,” he counters, which has her looking up again.

“Are you calling me a liar, John Brady?”

“I’m calling you painstakingly humble,” Willie laughs a little at that, with a slight shake of her head . The sound feels like an achievement in its own right. Not because of any stupid ongoing bet or competition he’d only just been made aware of; it’s the simple fact that she’d laughed and he’d been the reason why that has his heart beating a little faster. The front of her foot’s knocked into his once or twice, but that's really about it as far as stumbling goes. “So far my foot’s survived.” Willie tilts up her chin a little more to look him in the eye, amusement glittering in impossibly dark irises.

“I think you might have a personal bias.” John grins, daring to guide her into a slow spin. She lets him.

“What gave me away?”

“Dunno. Just a hunch.” His arm, almost instinctively, wraps around her lower back instead of going to rest on her hip. Sometimes, he really does forget to think around her. This feels more natural than the hand on the small of her back, having her close like this. Even in the dim light he can make out that pretty flush to her cheeks and preens at the fact that he is the reason for it.

“Yeah well, biased or not, I think I’m an expert in the subject,” John declares, taking her in with this proximity. He’d walked her to her room last night and immediately his thoughts wandered to her getting ready in the morning. The domesticity of it. She always seemed to have every hair perfectly in place but he liked these moments where she’s flushed, where her hair’s frizzing a little bit from late summer humidity, where her cheeks are creased with a smile. “And my expert opinion is you make it look easy.”

“Oh I better not question the expert then,” Willie concedes, sarcasm lacing the words. She looks him over and John doesn’t miss how her eyes only dart to his lips for a second before meeting his gaze. “Anyone ever told you you’re a sweet talker?”

“Only my mom when I was a kid,” John counters. “So I think you might have a personal bias.” Willie scoffs quietly at how he’s turned her words on her, the roll to her eyes still filled with what he thinks, what he hopes, is mirth. She leans forward and John’s breath hitches in his throat the moment that her lips find his cheek, right by the corner of his mouth. She holds it there a moment, before drawing back and looking at him.

“Personal bias or not, you are.” Willie decides on, but she hasn’t exactly moved out of his space yet. John holds her gaze a moment, and everything else just falls away. It’s just his beating heart, and her starry eyes, and the kiss to his cheek and the lips that he hasn’t kissed since Regensburg.

If he’s a sweet talker, then he’s also an opportunist. John’s leaning in before he can question himself.

They fit together like two puzzle pieces. He could drown in the barely perceptible scent of her perfume. Her lips are soft against his own, returning his affection as her hand moves from his shoulder to lightly caress his jaw. He squeezes her hip, gentle still, eyes shut as he loses himself a moment and decides to just not think. He’s safe enough here, with her, to do that. She’s smiling against his lips for a moment and he feels like he’s been coaxed from a dream when they part.

“Should’ve done that last night,” he mutters. Willie hums.

“Mhm. Left me hanging. Wasn’t very nice of you.” It’s a tease, he knows it is, and he’s taking the bait anyway, brushing their noses, wanting to kiss her again.

“I’ll make it up to you.”

“Promise?” And the way she says it has his heart pounding, his cheeks almost aching with a smile that just won’t falter. He chuckles to himself.

“Yeah, I promise,” he concedes, then leans in to kiss her again.

[ask-british-willy-weasel]

Can I hug Willy? 🥺

"...'onestly i need 'ha' righ' nah..."

The weasel gives the anon a hug.

[dokoni-mo]

ITS ME MR KRABS ANON I DID THE CLARA THING AND THE SONG

okay so imagine

Reader teaching William how to play CoD Zombies or Left 4 Dead because he wants to get closer to reader and its totally not like he felt left out or anything (he’s definitely not suffering from having no attention definitely not) . Sitting in the living room with the lights off during the night the coffee table is filled with snacks and drinks and the big screen is playing one of those choices. Reader is sitting in his lap while his arms are wrapped around reader, controller in both of their hands and the game is going. Micheal being away for the weekend and reader and William just having fun playing the console and eating snacks till the ass crack of dawn.

🦀

Mr Krabs anon although you are the newest and freshest anon I am already in love with you /p

please take this as a token of my gratitude

warnings: swearing, established relationship, age-gap relationship (reader is 20 will is pushing 40), willy in general, mushy gushy, fluff, kisses, cuddles pet names, also i made the technology more time-period accurate i hope you dont mind <333 also i didnt proofread like at all LOL

William never thought that he showed his age too much. Not around you, at the very least. He considered himself to be up-to-date on the times. But, as he watched you hook up your new gaming console to his TV, he couldn't help but be confused.

Even though you didn't seem to care, William couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed. He had tried to set it up for you when you came over. You were his bunny. It was his job to take care of things for you. Even though he hadn't seen much technology like the console before, he figured it couldn't be that hard. He was a very skilled engineer and mechanic. He made dozens of highly-intelligent robots in his lifetime. One little Atari shouldn't be too hard.

Right?

Wrong.

William had struggled with the device for what seemed like hours as you watched him from the couch. You had offered several times to take over and set it up, but he refused each time. Goddamn it. He was going to figure this out. But did they have to make everything so confusing? Not even the manual was much help. William tried and tried again to no avail, his frustration growing with each failed attempt. He was probably teaching you so many new English swears you had never hard before, too. Not a very good look, William.

After his 8th failed attempt and a rather loud and obnoxiously British bloody hell, you had giggled and slid off the couch, pushing him out of the way as you took over the set-up. William felt bad that he had to make you do all the work. You were his sweet bunny, you shouldn't have to lift a finger around him. And after you went to all this trouble? To come up with a little date for the two of you? And buy all these snacks? On your dime too. Silly bunny, you should've asked William for some cash. He would've happily given it to you.

But, you were a determined person. He knew this. It was one of the many reasons he loved you.

The Atari was more of your generation, anyway.

Fine. You win this time, little one.

But don't think you're gonna get away with much else.

"Are you sure you don't need any help, love?" William asked as he watched you from the couch.

Your back was turned to him while you were hooking all the wires together, but you could hear how you snorted out one of your cute little laughs.

"No, thank you," you responded with a hint of sarcasm, glancing over your shoulder to the older man, "I'm already almost done."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

"You figured it out rather quickly, hm? Good job, bunny."

William heard you giggle again as you turned the console on, picking up the scattered games from off the floor as you turned back to him, "And I thought you were the tech-expert here."

"No need to get smart with me, little one."

You shot a smile up to the brit as you pushed some of the snacks out of the way, placing the games in an array so that he could see all of them.

"You get to pick out the game, since this was my idea." You explained to him, making him smile a little down at you. Sweet bunny. Always so thoughtful.

Scanning his grey eyes over all your games, William had to admit. None of them seemed that appealing to him. Nor very familiar. William was never really a fan of video games. Perhaps he was just old-fashioned, but he thought it was better for people to get entertainment outside of their own homes, with something that was real. Or, selfishly, at one of his restaurants. But, when you called him during the week and proposed this little idea of yours, he found it hard to say no. He found it hard to say no to you in general, but he found this especially hard.

You had just talked about it so excitedly. His relationship with you was still very much a secret. The Brit only got to see you on the weekends, and that's if you weren't swamped with your college courses. He couldn't take you on real dates like he wanted to as well. He had to get creative sometimes. And this was your way of being creative about it. Your way of showing him that you appreciated all of his efforts. Aside from your love, of course. So, even though William didn't really like it, he'd put up with it.

For you.

He'd do anything to see you smile. He knew this. Besides, even if he was bored by the games, he was just happy to have you close to him. Have you to himself. Hold you. Cuddle you. Kiss you. Touch you.

You were the real treat here.

"This one seems alright." He eventually said, touching one of the games you laid out, "I heard Evan talking about it once."

"Ooo," you hummed, "That's a good one!"

William watched as you waddled on your knees back over to the console and put the game inside. Once it was shut and the opening screen flashed on the TV, you waddled back over to the couch with the controller in your hands. William leaned his back against the plush cushions and spread his thighs further apart, giving you space to sit in between them. You took the seat happily, draping your legs over one of his own and leaning your back against his chest. Instinctively, William snaked his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to him, pressing a few chaste kisses to your cheek and jaw.

What a good bunny you were. You were so cute when you cuddled with him. He loved it when you were close. If only he could keep you like this forever.

"So you've never used one of these before?" You asked, your little fingers gliding over the controller to set a game up for you and him.

"No, never." Mr. Afton responded.

"You should get some for your diner. The kids would love it."

William let out a hum, pressing another kiss to your jaw, "Children are destructive, love. That would be expensive to replace them all the time, yeah?"

"I guess," you said.

Oh, how cute you were.

[minimoefoe]

Ncuti Gatwa’s Rolling Stone article, the Doctor Who bits

“My Doctor is emotionally vulnerable. He hides it with humour, but he’s lonely,” says Gatwa of his forthcoming reinvention of the ever-changing Doctor. “I can’t say much more than that; I don’t want to spoil anything. But he’s also energetic! The poor cameramen struggled to keep up.”

To hear Gatwa tell the story of his casting, it almost sounds like he was granted a wish. One day he emailed his agent saying he wanted to play a role like Willy Wonka or the Doctor — and just a week later he was asked to audition for the part of the Time Lord. To prepare, Gatwa spent a week watching every Doctor Who episode since its 2005 revival. Although he had enjoyed the show previously, he never considered himself a habitual fan. He emerged from that binge-watching week a die-hard Whovian.

“I fell in love with it,” he enthuses, and he means it. There is undoubtedly a special quality about Doctor Who that’s hard to deny. “When you watch it, you forget all your troubles,” says Gatwa. “You go to space, or to another time. You have adventures.”

A big part of the show’s post-2005 story revolves around the Doctor having survived a devastating war that wiped out the rest of his people. This is a plot point that has since been undone and then redone; its current status in the canon is somewhat unclear. But it’s this that Gatwa latched onto because in that storyline he was able to see a reflection of his own life. As a child, Gatwa and his family fled Rwanda, escaping the genocide against the Tutsi minority. They settled in Scotland. “This person survived a genocide. This person fits in everywhere and nowhere. I am the Doctor. The Doctor is me. I decided that I had to get this role,” says Gatwa.

“I’m very nervous. I have a lot of sleepless nights where I lie awake feeling my heartbeat,” he says. It’s hard to imagine the pressure he must suddenly be feeling, but it’s understandable nevertheless. Doctor Who is a science-fiction family show that has run, on and off in some form, for 60 years. It’s also a nexus of so much of British culture. Like James Bond, the Doctor is a character through which Britain learns to understand itself, as much an icon of our changing times as a fictional being. The show’s connection to British identity means tensions can run high and fans can be cruel at times, seemingly over-protective because they feel that the show is something they own. They can also be bigoted in the most predictable ways.

“I’m the first Black man to play this character. The British press can be very mean,” he says of the reaction to his casting. But Gatwa is determined to remain steadfast in the face of criticism. “I just have to focus on the job and stay true to what the Doctor is: a mad scientist alien who has adventures and cares about everyone,” he says.

Thankfully, the Doctor Who team are helping him handle the pressures that come with his new role. “Russell T Davies has been amazing, too. He calms me down. He’s such an Earth sign. I can get very anxious, but therapy helps, and they’ve made sure that I have time put aside to have my sessions.”

Gatwa has also drawn support from some of the past Doctors, and has met Peter Capaldi, David Tennant and Matt Smith in person. He ran into Smith at a party before he’d been announced for the role and tipsily said “I’m following in your footsteps!” — a remark which baffled Smith until Gatwa was officially confirmed as the new Doctor. Gatwa tells me that Tennant set up a group chat where some of the previous actors stay in contact with one another, and they’ve all offered Gatwa support and advice on dealing with the press. After all, the only people that can really know what it’s like to be the Doctor are those who have been the Doctor. Once you’re cast, you’ll always be part of the show’s long history.

The series will return to BBC One (and Disney+ in other territories) in three specials this coming November, all — as far as we know — starring David Tennant once more. Gatwa’s first episode will be in a Christmas special set to air in December.

Doctor Who is all about reinvention and with Gatwa, this bold reimagining can be seen in his aesthetic interpretation of the offbeat time-travelling alien. Fashion might not be the first thing people associate with Doctor Who, but what the Doctor wears is an intrinsic part of the show. Tom Baker’s long scarf, David Tennant’s pinstripe suit; those are things that people immediately associate with it. But Gatwa’s Doctor might well be the first fashion-conscious one. “The day Russell invited me to meet everybody, they asked me what sort of costume I wanted. I showed them this Ralph Lauren collection that was in partnership with Historically Black Colleges in America,” he says. “I love those pieces, they’re so preppy and so Black. But then they asked what else, because they’d been thinking about lots of outfits, almost a different one each week. Which is new! I love it. The Doctor has travelled all of time and space; they’re going to have a sick wardrobe.”

Not that previous Doctors were badly dressed, mind. “I love Jon Pertwee, the Third Doctor’s, outfits. Lovely velvet jackets and frilly shirts. I feel a connection to him, our Doctors are the only two who dress like sluts,” he laughs.

The idea of multiple outfits has led to a fun press cycle where Twitter is regularly treated to a photoshoot of the Doctor and his companion in a completely new style each time. The most notable of these was a Swinging Sixties look, with Gatwa sporting a blue striped suit and an Afro. “The hair and makeup department have been incredible,” he exclaims. “Claire Williams and my own makeup artist, Bella, who is an old friend, worked so well together in creating my looks. Originally, we weren’t going to have the Afro, but Bella convinced me and I’m very glad she did. It’s such a shot into the bloodstream. It’s a statement — the Doctor is fucking Black.”

[hardly-an-escape]

wip ask game!! im curious about The Trenches Have Vanished Under the Plough!! super super cool title :0 <3

this fic is my beloved terrible millstone around my neck son that literally started out as a tiny Smurch fill OVER A YEAR AGO and then got longer and longer and longer. it's at about 5500 words and if I'm honest with myself (which I'm sort of trying not to be because I don't want to think about it) it's probably actually only half done. I think about it so much but it's weirdly hard for me to sit down and write for some reason.

the title comes from a line in an old song called either "Willie McBride" or "The Green Fields of France," depending on who's singing it (my favorite recording is by the Clancy Brothers and Tommy Makem). it's a human AU. Hob and Morpheus are both soldiers in the British Army during the Great War. despite being separated by both military rank and social class, they find themselves drawn together and begin an illicit affair. the story picks up after Armistice Day; they haven't seen each other in months. here's a snippet:

The newspapers have been full of the signing of the Treaty of Versailles. His nearest neighbors are full of plans for haying season. The sky is full of sun and warm wind, and Hob is gritting his teeth and willing his stiff shoulder to fling the last heavy wet sheet over the line, and Morpheus is walking up the cliff path and standing just outside the gate. “Hello, Hob,” he says, and his voice is exactly as Hob remembers it. “Captain,” Hob says, and drops his empty basket, spine automatically straightening, one arm bending slightly as if resting an invisible rifle against a shoulder. He hasn’t held a gun for nigh-on a year. He is suddenly, quietly, furious.

I've posted some bits from this before: 1 2 3. it got overshadowed by CHBB and some other WIPs, but I've been adding a few words here and there and I'm raring to get back to it.

thanks for the ask! wip game ✨

[the-empress-7]

"I wonder if their card said, behind a large yellow candle"

Their card states:

To: Harold and M, Duke and Duchess of Chunga-Changa

What: KCIII Coronation. You can see The Prince of Wales' Coronet, The Princess of Wales will wear an elegant dress that will match her Tiara and other crown jewels that will be loaned to her, and the Wales' kids looking so regal, specially Princess Charlotte with a nice dress that actually fits. This is a soft show of the future of the monarchy just to remind you what and who matters.

Where: United Kingdom. We do not have any branch in North America, we are not planning on bringing the coronation to you.

When: May 6, 2023. We know it's your son's birthday. We intentionally chose this day to give you a reason not to come. You no longer need to think of any excuse since we know you are not good at thinking.

Why: We actually don't want you here. The tax payers don't want you too. Nobody bloody wants you but we are still sending for the sake of sending.

How to get there: Since you think that you are more important than you really are, and act like you're Earth's most victimized victim of all victims eversince victimization exist. We decided that it is best to send a platoon of well trained penguins from North Pole who will handle your security. The penguins will come at your castle at Chunga-Changa. They will excort you to your borrowed private jet. Those penguins will fly you first to Australia since you claim to be famous there. The Aussies will have a tea throwing party at you. Immediately after that, they will fly you to Vancouver Island where the penguins will take a pap photo of you so you can publish a pap photobook at Penguin Random House. After Canada, the penguins will bring you to Africa and tell all the citizens to ask you if you are Ok. Only then you can go to UK.

To protect you from the racjst UK. We have commisioned life size yellow cancles that will surround you while in UK. It'll be there while you are walking, seating, standing even when you are riding a car. No paps or British media can take a photo/video of any your body part since the candle will handle the cover. Also to protect Harold from the Willy, PoW, we decided to place your seat at the very back of the venue. The PoW and his family will seat in front being the heir. The spare like most stock of spare parts are in the tool box in the back. So you stay at the very back. Also since The Wife is mad that the Princess of Wales got first dibs of the designer brands and she needs to follow the queue after her, we are delightful to inform you that you no longer need to follow that queue. The British brands decided to remove you from the queue. You are no longer need to have to choose from their selection since it will not be offered to you.

[chaifootsteps]

apologies if I've asked this before, but who's your fav Simpsons character??

Personally for me it's Sideshow Bob. British, redhead, soothing voice, amazing dialogue, theatre-esque and more. :)

Hope you're doing okay, Chai!

Ooh, Sideshow Bob's definitely a great one. Can't beat Kelsey Grammer's voice.

I've got a lot of favorites, but Homer, Grandpa, and Mr. Burns make me laugh the hardest. I also really love Groundskeeper Willie, Apu, and the Crazy Cat Lady.

Also Mojo. In our VC, we probably quote all of the Mojo scenes about once a month, at the very least.

[sarahlancashire]

15 questions, 15 friends

tagged by @sophiedevreaux and @moxyphinx, thank you both sm, love you <3

Are you named after anyone? not my first name, but my middle names are family names

When was the last you cried? i cry all the time, but i can't actually remember when the last time was; i did lose one of my dogs recently and i cried a LOT, for several days

Do you have kids? nope

What sports you play/have played? *willy wonka voice* you must be new

Do you use sarcasm? what other way is there to communicate (especially as a british person)

What is the first thing you notice about people? it depends, but what they're wearing usually

What is your eye colour? hazel

Scary movies or happy endings? unapologetic happy endings girlie

Any talents? is memory a talent??? i can remember everything that's ever happened??? also occasionally i know things i have no logical way of knowing, like once at school i asked a girl if she was born in february bc i thought her personality seemed like that of someone who had been (i know that doesn't make sense. believe me i KNOW), and she said yes and told me to keep guessing and i guessed the exact day correctly

Where were you born? shoreham-by-sea hospital

What are your hobbies? amateur dramatics, watching tv, collecting useless trivia (mostly about actresses and old tv shows); to quote my own "about me" page: liking things no one else has ever heard of and laughing at my own jokes

Do you have any pets? a dog and two cats

How tall are you? i think it's between 5'2" and 5'3" (i'm short)

Favourite subject in the school? drama, english

Dream job? acting (unfortunately i do dream of labour)

tagging: (only if u want!) @juliewlters @alisonscotlock @pea-green @verypersonalscreencaps @notprincehamlet @beesarthur @patdevilles