#｢ dominic french ｣┊❛ there are questions you do not want to know the answers to ❜┊❮ answered ❯

[xkillcrsx]

"Con" (for dominic)

Send "Pro" or "Con" and I'll share one Pro or Con of Dating my Muse. | Accepting

Dominic isn't just protective of the person he is with - he is over protective. So much so that it verges on problematic. He will kill anyone who hurts the person he is with - and he will make it look like an accident too. Hell, his person doesn't even need to be hurt, per say - if someone dares to touch them in a non-friendly/unacceptable way, or even looks at them wrong, things will not end well for the perpetrator.

[adventuringblind]

i’m a sucker for anything with protective charles, i feel like he would always be looking out for his gf or wife…ugh just the thought? 🫣

Car Crash and a Ferrari Mishap

Charles Leclerc x Driver!reader

Genre: hurt/comfort, fluff

Request: yes and I am also a sucker for this.

Summary: even though Charles knows she drives one of the fastest cars in the world, he can’t help but worry.

Warnings: car crash, injury descriptions, protective Charles, ferrari race engineers not doing their job

Notes: written in third person

Masterlist

It had become a typical thing for Charles to worry. He worried more than people thought he did. His lover, however, knee everything about it because he was mainly worrying about her.

He'd lost so many people in his life already. He struggled with separation anxiety and would panic every time she got sick.

It didn't matter that she's a driver for Ferrari. It didn't matter that she's one of the most talented athletes. He worried about her.

Their relationship was public. Mostly because Lando struggles to keep things tight-lipped. It was a great thing, though, as their team had found. Marketing and content wise, they did some things together that everyone adored.

Working in a male dominated field meant dealing with uncomfortable questions. Ones that.nade Charles' skin crawl. He didn't hesitate to jump in and answer them himself. Sometimes, he and Max would use as a way to banter with each other, effectively angering the reporter or journalist.

Races were always terrifying before he got in the car. He made sure that he saw her before every race and kissed her good luck. Reminding her not to be reckless.

This race happened to be ridiculously hot. It felt like he would melt to the floor every time he stepped into the sun.

He found her before the walked to the grid. "Mon amour, are you sure you can race like this?"

She'd already been feeling faint. She hadn't told Charles, but the team had been controlling her water and food intake. They wanted her weight exact, and she had been over that a few days ago.

He could tell she wasn't feeling well. He always knew when someway off. Regardless, she just smiled at him and kissed his cheek.

It took a few laps before she tried for water. Dissapintment flooding her veins as she got nothing.

"Is the water system not working?"

"Negative, keep pushing."

She sighs in frustration but keeps going. Pushing her hardest.

She was almost there. Fifteen laps left. Her mouth terribly dry. Her mind shut down more with each lap. She needed to finish.

She'd stopped sweating. Her body lacks the required liquids to do so. Everything seemed to move in slow motion.

Then everything went dark.

~

"Red flag Charles, red flag." Xavi announces from the radio.

Charles slows down the car. Hot and tired. He was excited to finish the race, and now he'd have to wait longer.

He pulls into the pits. He was expecting to see her there already. As far as he was aware, she was ahead of him.

He climbs out of the car, immediately asking about her. Nobody could give him a straight answer.

Five minutes and still nothing. Then the replay of the crash came on the screen.

Her body going limp in the car. Her foot is still accelerating down one of the straights. She hits the corner, and the car is spinning. Then nothing.

It looked bad. He knew it was bad. Words of frantic French and Italian leave his lips.

It takes Pierre, Max, and Lando holding him back to keep him in the pits. He was screaming at the race engineers. Asking how that could have happened.

He's kicking and screaming like a child as the boys drag him back to his room. His performance coach tried to get him to slow his breathing. Still fresh off the adrenaline from driving.

"I don't understand." He sobbed.

"She didn't have water." Andrea confesses.

Charles pauses. His brain fitting together all the peices. "Have they been trying to get her to lose weight?"

"Yes, which is odd, I was talking to her coach, who said she was already under what she deemed the lowest weight that was still healthy."

Oh, Charles was furious. It made sense now. Why she'd been so exhausted this past week.

He stormed out of the room. Angry words be yelled at every engineer.

Pierre was translating to the boys who don't know French. All of them also getting angry.

"I retire the car." Charles states. Grabbing his helmet and running out to the crash site.

They still hadn't gotten her out. The front of the car has been smashed in. They had cut the halo off, but her body was jammed at a weird angle. A stray peice of metal had found its way into her arm. Her neck already looked bruised.

Charles was a wreck at this point.

The Marshall's used him as a navigator. He was able to get into the cockpit and move things around. It felt like forever until he was riding with her to the medical center.

He pulled her helmet and balaclava off gently. The white fabric dotted with specks of red.

He held her hand and sobbed the entire ride.

~

He wasn't doing much better when people came by after the race.

He was teary-eyed and nauseous. The nurses kept refilling his water. It felt horribly ironic.

He knew he disappointed his fans. They wanted to see him race, and here he was. Crying over his lover in the hospital.

He just needed to see her.

Sebastian came to see him first. Though he was followed by the one person he really didn’t want to see. Seb and Mattia were talking in hushed voices. Seb looked two seconds away from punching him.

“I don’t want to see you.” Charles announced to his team principle.

“I came to see if she’s okay.”

Charles was going to unleash his anger on the Ferrari principal, but the doctor calling her name interrupted him.

“How is she.” Charles voice was definitely more panicked then he would’ve liked but it was to much effort to hide it and there were no cameras here anyways.

“The bones in her calves are crushed. The cut in her arm has been stitched up but we might need to open it up again to check for any missed metallic bits. Just to air on the side on caution and avoid any infections. She has a severe concussion and is severely dehydrated.” The doctor attempts to explain to him, but Charles is trying to stop himself from panicking. “For what it’s worth, it could have been much worse.”

Charles is brought back to earth by Sebs hand in his shoulder. “You should go see her.” His former teammate nods him along.

~

Charles sits on the uncomfortable plastic chair. His mind wanting to stay awake but his body giving out.

She looked so peaceful sleeping. Her chest rising and falling in even motions.

He almost missed her eyes fluttering open and her hand squeezing his. Charles was standing in a second, trying to stop her from moving to much.

She was panicking. Her heart rate increasing dramatically. Charles sat himself in the edge of her bed. His hand running across her hair.

"The race. Oh god- I'm so sorry."

"No, don't think about that. Just rest." Whoever told her to push so hard without water should be fired.

"Did you win?"

"No, but I don't care. I care that you're awake a safe."

She hums at him. The feeling of his hands bringing a calm sensation back.

"Charles, it hurts."

"I'll go grab a doctor. Don't try to move."

He's out of the room in a flash. Only coming back when he has a nurse in tow.

They up the pain meds and bring her some water. The IV fluids are already helping, but her mouth is so dry that she needs to drink it.

Charles is attentive. He barely leaves her side unless it's absolutely neccecary.

~

[angsthology]

“i am on work trip vacation” — or an alt title: what happens when a group of f1 drivers go on a getaway together

a houseboat sounds like a great idea! ...right?

a/n HELLAUR this was mostly inspired by that one mofy episode “lake life” which to me is very underrated i love that episode SO much. anyway here it is it kinda ended up not how i wanted it to be in the first place but oh well :)

THE KANGAROO(KIE) VS. THE WORLD

to be perfectly honest, no one really remembered whose idea it was for them to do this. theoretically, it did sound like a good idea until someone else had the amazing idea:

“what if we rented a houseboat… for all of us…”

the group blinked at the suggestion.

roo, who had been standing next to lando mumbled to him lowly, “are we that close?”

the question made the two turns to each other for eye contact, when their eyes met, lando shrugged.

their attentions were brought away when max spoke up from his seat.

“yeah, but who is paying?”

the group turned to look at each other before agreeing through eye contact and all turn to the dutch driver.

“what? why? this isn’t even my idea!”

“yeah, but…” the group turned to the first porsche driver, “you keep winning…”

he threw his hands in the air, “what?! what does that have to do with anything?”

“you make the most money…” lando answered for her, the words slowly forming in his mouth, “you bought a whole aircraft, a boat won’t hurt your wallet.”

in response, he got a look from the redbull driver.

the woman next to him walked forward, “how about this; you’ve ruled the land, the asphalt if you must; you’ve also had your reign in the air, isn’t it time for you to have something to dominate the seas…?” she carefully propositioned, eyes searching the unreadable dutch looking for any sort of answer.

until eventually, his eyes lit up looking her way, “you’re a genius!” he exclaimed.

“i know, thanks.” she smugly smiled at his reaction.

shortly after, the man speedily walked off somewhere else leaving her with the rest of the grid.

she huffed with a smile playing at her lips, “men are so easy.”

fast forward to where they are now; lando trying to figure out the concept of charles’ attempt at eggs, the latter suspected to be on some kind of edible (currently being silently investigated by george and alex), lance passed out on the couch in an interesting position with his blanket over his face to shield it from the sun, the rest out on deck or still asleep in their rooms.

just as lando did another poke of his… egg? roo walked down the steps from where all the rooms were, eyes still lidded with sleep, hands stretching with a yawn.

“mornin’.” she greeted, the rest present in the room strung along good mornings as such.

walking over to the smell of burning, she felt the ground tilt to the side, making her lose her balance following where the dip goes. the rest in the room too fully woke up at the tilt—a large horn following. lance, emerging from his blanket and sitting half up grumpily, lando quickly grabbing his plate of eggs to stop it from falling off the counter (though, he regretted doing so, he would much rather the eggs get eaten by the floor rather himself.)

the aston martin driver on the couch then snatched the walkie-talkie on the coffee table next to him and barked into it, “VERSTAPPEN!”

max, happily conducting in his captain’s deck, apologized through the walkie sheepishly, “ehe—sorry.”

from out on the deck, came the sound of the french, “honey, slow down, you are waking up the kids.” just as he put the walkie-talkie back on the table next to him, pierre heard the response coming from the same channel,

“gasly, i will throw you overboard.”

just as he grumbled that, the second haas driver stumbled down the stairs, face still a little sleepy (naturally).

“someone’s grumpy this morning.” he commented before taking a seat next to alex on the dining table behind the counter where lando hastily stared at a piece of his egg.

“fuck off.” he grumbled before covering his face with his blanket once more.

george, sat across of mick, stared at his co-worker still drifting off on the table, “‘horn wake you?”

“no, radio.” he mumbled.

the girl finally went back to walking over to the ferrari driver in the kitchen.

“what’s cookin’, mcqueen?” she greeted.

he looked back to her smiling then continuing his focus on the pan, “eggs!”

the woman looked towards the brit with a plate on the counter, raising her brows for confirmation. in response, he frowned with his eyes closed, shaking his head.

at that, she walked over to the fridge and grabbed the carton of orange juice, pouring it into a cup before walking over to where lando sat and hauled herself up into the stool.

“here goes nothing.” she heard the whisper from the side, looking over to see lando carefully putting the piece of egg in his mouth with his eyes closed.

she cringed when she heard a crunch coming from his bite.

“i think that was a shell…” he cried.

the girl beside him frowned and pat his back just as carlos walked down the stairs, behind him two large dogs followed.

she gasped at the sight, “good morning, babies,” she greeted sweetly, crouching down to pet the two dogs.

passing by, carlos smiled, “good morning, sweetheart.”

roo gave him a side-eye as he passed, snickering, she said, “sure.” her expression then turning to one of adoration when she pat her dogs once more.

her attention moved when charles greeted his teammate, “good morning, calos, how do you take your eggs?”

“like god made them,” he said before cracking an egg and pouring them straight into his mouth.

everyone turned to him in shock and disgust, roo herself shrieked at the sight.

“what the hell is wrong with you?!” she yelped in disgust.

charles, face straight, “oh, right, i forgot about that.”

from the dining table, george questioned, “you do that every day? i just do it when i have a nasty hangover…”

carlos looked at him and paused, nodding before answering, “yes.”

roo then laughed smugly into her glass.

“what are you laughin’ at sally?” asked the spaniard.

“i don’t get hangovers.” she bragged, hand reaching over to the bowl of fruit in front of her. her smug face dropped when she held the too-light banana, “what the fuck? are these fucking plastic?!”

charles then turn around and grimaced seeing the look on her face, “oh, yeah, forgot to tell you.” he the paused, contemplating on what he says next, “if you see a bite mark on the apple… no you don’t.”

george then intruded, “wait, wait. i want to go back to how you don’t get hangovers…”

“yeah—how does that even work?” alex asked next.

she shrugged, “well… how it works is that… i don’t drink. —besides champagne that is,” she added with a smile.

“wait what—”

she clapped her hands together, “conversation’s over, i’m going to take my kids for a walk—lando, stop trying to feed them your eggs they only eat things that are edible.”

the ‘cook’ turned around fully offended, “hey!”

“so…”

“please don’t try to make conversation. it’s bad enough you’re here.” again, it wasn’t like she was trying to be rude, but it often came out like that. —she really did hope lando didn’t take it like that.

he scoffed, “oh, come off it, you love me.” he said, while throwing a hand over her shoulder.

the four—lando, roo, bennie, and jet, that is—were currently wandering around the island their boat had docked to. so far on their walk there hasn’t been anything interesting in the island besides the occasional inhabitants of the island (ones that are only visible to the woman anyway).

suddenly, lando let go of her shoulder and went to check his pockets, “oh, right, that reminds me; these has been weighing my pants—”

her attention unmoving, she cut him off, “that or you need a belt.”

he rolled his eyes and continued, “whatever, can you hold this in your pocket.”

finally, that brought her out of her trance, “oh wait—”

she turned around to warn him but it was too late, lando had dropped the item in the pocket hole of her pants only to see it fall to the ground instead.

“wait what—” he grabbed the item off the floor and tried to put it back in her pocket, seeing if he had missed it before only to see it fall to the ground through it again. “what the hell?” without warning, lando put his hand in her pocket all the way through and low and behold; his hand had went through it and peaked out of the bottom of her pants.

he stared at her in confusion.

“yeah, i was going to tell you: my pockets have holes in them.”

“well, no shit, i can fit my entire hand through this—hell, i can even fit both.” he asserted almost going high-pitched. his eyes then changed, visibly remembering a detail she mentioned, “wait—pockets? as in both?”

she rolled her eyes, “yes, drama queen. now can you get your hand out of my pants, do you know how weird this looks?”

“oh, yeah, to who? the wind?” he stated sarcastically as he pulled his hand out of her pocket—if it can still be called that.

the girl was about to answer but her eyes caught something that made her eyes almost pop out of their socket. her hand immediately takes a hold of lando’s upper arm.

“ow!”

ignoring his complains, her eyes still trained on whatever it is she saw and started pulling on his arm.

the brit was still busy complaining on how hard her hand’s grip on his arm was to look up but he still managed to answer, “what?!”

“i think—i think we should uh—go back to shore, y’know, it’s almost lunch, they could be looking for us.”

“no it’s not, it’s only like—” he checks his watch, “—eleven am.” he continues to complain.

but when he couldn’t feel as much pain as before he looked up to see his friend already gone along with the two dogs. he threw his hands in the air, “wha— damn it, roo!”

when he made it back to the beach, she was nowhere to be found, instead he was met with the rottie instead, “oh, hey, bennie, where’s your mum, huh?” he crouched down to give the dog a scratch behind his ear, bennie barked in response.

he—the dog—then turned around and walked over to the side where a white and minty-green volleyball laid, piquing an interest from lando.

when he walked over and grabbed the ball, he heard a call from the other side of the beach.

“oi! you wanna join us for a game?” danny yelled with his hands cupped around his mouth.

without another thought, lando stood up and ran over to the group and joined them. surprisingly enough when he looked to his left, there his friend stood after ditching him in the woods.

he threw his hands in the air when he saw her, “here you are! what the hell was that earlier?”

opting for the easy way out, she replied, “saw something you can’t, you don’t want to know.”

lando—who she knew would steer clear of any further topics involving her abilities—accepted the answer quickly and went back to focusing on the upcoming game.

“so, what’s the game here?” asked the brit.

“it was gonna be two on two but since you’re here i guess, three it is. whose team do you want to be in?”

lando then mulled over his options, go with daniel and mick against roo and zhou or… the other way around. then he remembered just how strong the girl was—he got flashbacks from various sports he had played against her and ones he saw her play, he wasn’t risking it.

“i think i’m gonna stay here, what about you, though? you need one more player?”

the australian looked around until his eyes landed on the rottweiler, a grin made its way to his face, “bennie! c’mere boy!”

when the rottie obliged, roo’s jaw dropped in betrayal.

“first mick! now you too? betrayed by my own boys…”

the german shrugged.

after that, the game went on for a good few minutes. along the lines of those minutes the following had happened;

“what the hell, dan?!”

said man had done an overhand serve with the ball, accidentally aiming it straight where the woman was hitting her upper chest—luckily enough she had managed to save it. but, still, she was a little bit offended.

he couldn’t help but laugh at his own actions—which he swore he didn’t mean to do.

still laughing (all the while the game was still going on), he continues to apologize through it, “i am so sorry karen smith, i swear, it was an accident.”

after that little incident, the girl made it her number one mission to find the right timing for payback.

when she did, she gave it her all into passing that ball hitting it towards the australian’s lower region.

unfortunately for her and luckily for him, he dodged just in time letting it hit the sand instead—unfortunately giving her team a point.

daniel and mick’s eyes were still trained where the ball had landed, seeing how harshly it hit the ground—daniel looked at it more with relief than he’d like to admit.

he turned around from the ball to look at her with ‘offense’, “dude!” he threw his hands up.

without wasting another breath, she pointed at him threateningly, “you hit my boobs! —i target you.”

in return, daniel raised both his hands in surrender and walked backwards to grab the ball and resume the game.

an hour or two later the game finished with daniel and mick on the losing team, leaving the other three in a high.

after high fiving both her teammates, the girl embraced the two men in purpose of gloating, she made sure to say audibly, “so, how did it feel like scoring your first win, boys?” she asked the two, though her eyes stayed on the two opposing teammates.

zhou smiled happily, seemingly glad that he could just participate at all, “feels pretty good, i must say.”

although lando wasn’t quite impressed by her question, “man, shut the fuck up.” he said, slipping out of her embrace to make his way over to the dock with the other five following behind.

“that’s not fair, you play aggressive.” daniel complained half-jokingly.

she was taken aback, “no i wasn’t, are you sure?”

knowing her, he knew her words were genuine(ly confused).

he wrapped his hand and smiled down at her cheekily, muttering lowly, “you don’t know your own strength.”

when they arrived on the boat, the first thing she saw the moment she stepped on the last step up was pierre, still calmly perched on his sun lounger with only his sunglasses protecting him.

the girl stared at him with questioning eyes, “have you moved? like, at all?”

“non.”

she all but shrugged, leaving him to burn under the sun.

when she entered the kitchen slash dining room slash living room, she was greeted with the hypnotizing smell of the food that filled the table—well, what was left of the food.

just as she was walking around said table, she heard the tapping of paws against the wooden floor and before she knew it, she was tackled by the doberman happily greeting her.

“hey, sweetheart, where have you been?” she scratched the dog’s head happily accepting her affection then suddenly being approached by a smaller collie she weren’t too familiar with, “and you… brought a friend?” she carefully stretched her hand out to pet the mystery puppy, “and who do you belong to buddy?”

“mine, actually.” the blonde thai entered the room with a water bottle in his hand. “his name’s otter, or, otto.”

“awh,” she pouted at the information before looking down at the puppy once again, “i love you.” she unhesitatingly hugs the puppy who then wags his tail with even more energy.

alex was about to comment but she beat him to it, “hey, what happened to everyone?”

“uhh—i think esteban took lance out on a boat,”

“i didn’t know ocon was capable of that.”

“not every two-people getaway is in the purpose of murder.”

“sure, tell yourself that.”

“whatever; charles is terrorizing yuki somewhere and carlos went to the bait shop in the island with george.”

“bait shop? is that a bar? there’s a bar here?”

“no– just a normal bait shop… for… fishing… you do know?”

“yes.”

“oh, hey, that reminds me; i’ve been meaning to ask, why didn’t fernando agree to this, again? i would assume he would jump at the chance at the first mention of lake.”

the alpine driver was currently calmly lounging on his chair doing whatever it is people his age does when suddenly two of the younger drivers on the grid appeared behind him.

he paused whatever he was doing when he felt the presence of two demons giggling behind him, he turned around quickly with a flat expression.

“what do you two want?”

they only giggled when he look at them dead in the eyes, earning raised brows expectantly from him.

the man heard whispers of “you say it”, “no you say it” bounced back and forth from the two.

“just say it.” he ordered the moment they got on his last nerve. (well, they were already on his last nerve the moment they arrived but now it was in the negatives.)

the british of the two decided to be the one to start, “we just wondered why… how—”

“we were just wondering why you haven’t turned to dust under the sun.” she cut him off.

now giggling again, lando continued, “it’s just we’re worried, this lake trip is going to have a lot of sun exposure.”

“we still like you, nan.” she finished, both of them continuing their giggling spree.

“you know what, that’s it.” he stood up from his chair, no longer feeling the relaxing peace and quiet he did before, “just like that, i’m not going. you kids are driving me crazy and i need this break.”

their faces dropped at the sudden ‘outburst’, both of them scurrying behind him to beg and plead for his mercy.

“uhh—he already had other plans.” she paused, then looking over him, “and what are you doing here?”

“trying to find a frisbee for the three of us.”

she tilted her head in question.

“me, otto, and… jet.”

“oh. alright, go nuts.” she then stands up from the ground, popping her head out the window that goes out to the deck, “mick, lan, dan, zhou, any of you eaten anything yet?”

she got a chorus of no’s and not yet’s in response.

“i—you are seeing this, correct?”

“looking at the same thing as you are.”

after a good lunch break with the four men, they all had went their separate ways to spend the afternoon and after a lot of exploring, roo found her way back to the deck where the alphatauri driver is still lounging. though now he is fast asleep, —and sunburnt.

she didn’t say anything else opting for nodding her head and slowly moving to the sun lounger beside her—vision directly facing the burnt french.

seeing as she was no longer standing next to him, he crouched down, “what are you thinking about, cariño?”

she shrugged, “nothing… just going to relax here.”

safe to say he did not trust her answer, he squinted as he stood back up.

the spaniard crossed his arms, “can i trust you…”

at that, the woman looks up craning her neck, she then pulls down her sunglasses to bat her eyelashes at him with a sweet smile.

he couldn’t help but reciprocate her energy. with one last smile, he turned around, and by chance he was met with lance who were just passing by. he grabbed the aston martin driver and whispered warningly—all the ‘sweetness’ from his previous encounter dropped, “that is a smile of a con-woman. do not trust her, watch her.”

before lance could even react, carlos was already long gone.

something bad had happened. he left for ten good minutes and he already heard the french-accented sound of agony coming from the deck.

next thing he knew, he was already there with the rest of the drivers all crowded there too to witness what just happened—arriving just in time for the sound of splashing on the side of the boat could be heard.

roo was already there with her hands on the side of the boat, looking down at the man overboard.

all the drivers followed where she was and where her eyes were brightly looking at with a cackle, squished together to all stand along the boat railings to see the emerging alphatauri driver from under the waters.

the girl, still laughing her ass off was getting cursed out in french, even hearing her full name coming out of her mouth.

carlos immediately snapped his head towards her direction, “what did you do?!”

she was still far too busy laughing, leaving the frenchman to answer angrily for her, “espèce de connard!” he cursed at her, “she fucking slapped my sunburn!”

that statement itself had made lando spilt a single cackle, zhou and mick covering their mouth in self-control after imagining pierre’s words.

said man give the three a large glare that didn’t really change their state.

the spaniard then turned to lance with eyes wide, “i told you to watch her!”

“i’m not her babysitter!” he defended, “—lando is! i gave him a fifty-dollar bill to do it!” he continued his defense. (which quite frankly didn’t help him much.)

“so you gave a child a job to watch another child?!” carlos fumed.

“i— well you got me there.” the canadian shrugged and let go of it.

lando, hearing his name, quickly chimed in with offense lacing his tone, “hey! in my defense; i handed the job over to charles!”

everyone then turned to the resident monégasque. he threw his hands in defense, when he spoke his tone a lot less defense-y more reasoning, “what? i am on vacation, i’m not babysitting!”

of all this happening, they all failed to notice the angry frenchman emerging from the stairs—skin red and dripping with lake water.

his wet steps walked slowly towards the culprit—the war criminal in a diy ripped clothing, “count your days.” he threatened lowly, accent thicker than usual, before walking inside the houseboat funnily, body still aching from his ‘little’ predicament.

te1enoviyuh 🎵 Pitbull, Marc Anthony • Rain Over Me (feat. Marc Anthony)

liked by awstenknight, f1, and 6,835,736 others

tagged: carlossainz55

te1enoviyuh D.O.G. — drivers only getaway

two notes for this one:

pierregasly i am... sorry, truly

@ all of u, youve all behaved accordingly so i gift u this picture he took when my phone went missing apparently

see all 2,836 comments.

selvnika oh this gave me a whiplash actually

dunphyrrari selvnika ure so right for this queen

thesainzist HELLO

thesainzist GOOD MORNINGGG SAILOR

thesainzist i thank u for ur service u are a god 🙏🏼

pierregasly die

siriuslyricciardo pierregasly NAHH I NEED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENED ON THAT BOAT

backbiteroo pierregasly tea is BOILING

te1enoviyuh backbiteroo his skin actually

pierregasly te1enoviyuh PÉRIR

mclarenovia watch them be super cryptic about this whole getaway

sixteenparx awsten at the scene of the crime once again 📸

awstenknight sixteenparx CAN YOU JUST LET ME LIVE

sixteenparx awstenknight no

aepsainz YARG

aepsainz on behalf of chillination we thank you and owe you for your service we will never forget this 💪🏿

sebastianvettel Have fun!

liked by te1enoviyuh

taglist; @treehouse-mouse @disneyprincemuke @yansbolobao @leilanixx @judespoision @vellicora @bborra lemme know if u wanna be added <3

[simonsrosebud]

WIP Game: can I have some Brussels?

Nathaniel barely remembered the day that they ran.  It was only four years before, but it was the middle of the night.  He was young, and traumatized and tired.  His eye was freshly swollen and the only thing he was able to think about was the idea of getting caught sneaking out.

Mary held his hand tightly as she led him to the old car parked around the corner.  He had so many questions, but he was forbidden to talk until they got out of town.  Until they passed the exit sign on the edge of Birmingham and made their way to London.

Nathaniel watched it pass by and sunk down further in his seat.  “Where are we going?”

Mary didn’t look at him.  Her bruised knuckles were white against the steering wheel.  In French, she said, “Grab the book I put in your bag.  You need to start studying.  No English until we’re out of the country.”

Nathaniel reached towards the bottom of his backpack until he hit something hard.  He looked at her with a grimace.  “Germany?”  She nodded once.  “Why can’t we just go to Nan’s in France?”

“Not in English, Nathaniel.”

Nathaniel frowned, but obeyed.  “But Mum, we’re in a car.”

Mary didn’t answer.  She had gotten the car from someone Nathan didn’t know, but there was no telling what he was capable of.  Wiring a car could’ve easily fit the bill.  “Where do you think he’s going to look as soon as he notices we’re gone?” she asked.

Nathaniel sunk in his seat.  “Bordeaux,” he mumbled.

“So where are we not going?”

He leaned his head back on the seat and sighed.  “Bordeaux.”

-

Nuremberg was gloomy when they arrived, and Stefan quickly discovered that he was terrible at learning German.  And he wasn’t doing well with responding to his new name.  He didn’t see why he couldn’t keep his if they were a whole two countries away.

The only good thing was that he was doing great in French class.  That, and he could pretend to be whoever he wanted without repercussions.

But eventually pretending gets old.  Boring.  Sad.

In Munich, Alex tried making friends.

In Dijon, France, Olivier wished his mother would keep him in the loop.  He was fourteen years old, he could handle responsibility.

In Croatia, Luis wondered how his mother got away with sneaking her gun to different countries.  He asked if she would teach him to shoot it, but he was ignored.

Antwerp challenged Chris with a new language.  Dutch wasn’t something that he’d ever thought he’d have to learn, since the computer at the library said that there were French speaking schools in Belgium, but he didn’t pretend to understand his mother’s intentions in enrolling him elsewhere.

The Netherlands surprised Sebastian by how normal it felt.  Pictures made it seem more interesting, more touristy, but the people were nice and he felt almost like they could make a home there. Then he kissed a girl, and took the Eurostar while hiding a red handprint on his cheek.

Amsterdam was better than Almere in Dominic’s opinion.  He was allowed to go off on his own a few times, which was surprising.  His mother finally taught him how to use the gun, but never let him fire it.

Stuttgart was Liam’s favorite.  He’d spent more time speaking German than Dutch, and liked the language more than he remembered.  He kissed a girl this time around in Germany.  It was fine.

Strasbourg, France, was not fun for Timothée.  He was lonely and growing out of his clothes, and his classmates deemed it obvious that he wasn’t French even though they admitted that he had the accent. He thanked his mother for that.

Brussels was better.  Neil liked Brussels, even though his Dutch was still far from perfect.  They’d arrived in early November, and his first day at the new school proved to be the best first day he’d had in four years.

His first teacher of the day told him where to sit, next to a kid with blonde hair hiding his eyes.  “Andrew is an exchange student from the United States, so I figured it would be easier to pair you together.  Your mother said that your Dutch is not as strong.”

Neil tried not to frown.  American. It was almost insulting. “My Dutch is fine,” he said, and found his seat.

The American didn’t pay attention to him until the end of the class period.   He looked up and spoke in Dutch. “I won’t give you special treatment just because you’re the new kid.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Good,” he said. He leveled Neil with a slow stare, up and down, and left to go to his next class. 

next

[theamazingmaddyas]

Things the Apollo Cabin campers have definitely said featuring actual quotes from my four siblings and I.

Lee: (reading a trivia question) Name the five Great Lakes

Michael: Eric... Oklahoma, and Atlantis

Will: That's not even five?

Will: (after doing five line dances in a row at a DJ and another comes on) He's gonna kill me (proceeds to agressively Cotton Eye Joe)

Kayla: I was asked to write a poem about anything, so I wrote about how much better I am than Michael in archery.

(While playing Anomia, which involves saying things in certain categories)

Austin: Aww, I wanted to match with Jerry. (Card in question: French Word) I had the perfect answer.

Jerry: Oui Oui?

Austin: No. Oui Oui Baguette

Jerry: What does that mean?

Austin: Yes, yes bread.

Jerry: *dies of laughter*

(Also playing Anomia)

Austin: (matches with Type of Rock) Pop Rock

Yan: Wrong. It means like sedimentary. You know, types of rocks

Austin: It didn't specify if it meant (points towards door) rock rock or (strums imaginary guitar) rock rock

(While playing Risk J.r.)

Kayla: What's the strategy?

Yan: There isn't one.

Gracie: The game's made for five year olds.

Kayla: Which I plan to dominate.

Yan: (to Gracie) She plans to beat all the five year olds.

(Little) Will: What's your crap?

Michael: My what?

Will: The day you were born? Your crap.

Lee: He means your zodiac

[sweet-as-an-angel]

So Dominic does reveal more when it's safe to do so? OKAY, okay, but what if it takes a lot of time for his beloved to come to trust him? What I mean by that is that some people do not care for their loved one's action simply because they favour them. A normally empathetic person could definitely do that. So if it took around... whatever, 3 years let's say, would he be patient enough if he knew it would lead to his object of affection to basically be okay with everything he does(crazy person behaviour, but it's fictional so it's fiNE)? I'm curious. He's willing to do "anything", but that doesn't mean anything his darling would want specifically. It's anything he would do to get to that specific goal. He isn't exactly known to be nice, especially when he views his kids as burdens. So another question that came to mind, if it hasn't been answered already, would be could he change his mind on his kids? If Y/N likes them, and just really likes kids (even more since they're his), would there be some type of affection growing for them if it came from the simple pattern of "The one I like likes this, therefore I like it."?

Sorry for rambling, I can't seem to pinpoint the man, and he always turns out to be even more vicious than the last ask reveals. I really like how you made him out to be, and as depressing (in the sense that he's a cheater, is clearly insensitive, and would fuck his honey's parent just to excite them?? He's disgustingly intimidating) as I find him to be, it feels more realistic. Would love to punch him, 10/10. Plus he's French. And I'm weak. SO TO SUMMARISE, GOOD WORK, THANK YOU THANK YOU UHM (ỌVỌ)

Thank you so much for writing in, my Lovely ! I am eternally grateful for your kindness and your dedication to reading my posts; I can tell you've even read the more niche ones because you know precisely what Dominic's like ^^. To answer your questions:

Yes, Dominic will only reveal his tendencies to a Darling he can trust wholeheartedly. Granted, he will stow away his true self in order to be with you, but being able to let loose and drop his veneer of humanity is...liberating. That being said, he would only do so if he knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that his Darling would not only be okay with it, but actively encourage it. He'll settle for the former, though. He knows not to be pushy when Fate hands him a win.

On the topic of whether Dominic would grow to care about his children if you cared for them...Honestly, Dominic is way past the point of forming connections - true, genuine bonds - with anyone that isn't you. And even then, if it's only his superficial charm you're attracted to, Dominic will wear it constantly, if only to make sure you keep loving him. Even at the cost of his real identity. So, to clarify, Dominic won't truly care for his sons. Not in the way that a normal parent would; rather, he views them as highly valuable assets he can use to keep you close to him. And while he may seem to go above and beyond when protecting them, it's only to ensure you don't fall into some kind of stupour if one or both of them ever came to harm.

If they ever did, Dominic would absolutely use the opportunity to convince you to have a child with him. Either through adoption or traditional means, he'll find a way to tether you to him. And no, he won't care about this child, either. Unless it is biologically yours, then he'd feel some sense of responsibility in taking care of it, but only because it is half of you.

Dominic is, for better or worse, an incredibly complex man whose motives stem from something that transcends the very pinnacles of human vicehood, and I'm so glad to hear that you like the way he is characterised, my Darling ^^ !

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[hellcatinnc]

Canceled Plans

Warning This includes: NSFW/SMUT (Read Tags Before Continuing)

Tags: nsfw, snuggles, mature themes, consensual, smut, Osamu Dazai, chuuya nakahara, Dazai, Bungo Stray Dogs, BSD, dazai x reader, osamu dazai x reader, chuuya x reader, chuuya x dazai x reader, cuckolding, cream pie, submissive dazai, dominant chuuya, cheating, breeding, voyeurism, kink, fetish, orgasms, cum fetish, after care, cock & ball torture, chastity, chastity cage, masturbation, cum fetish, datyecp, humiliation, thick cock, kissing, french kissing

Word Count: 2,372

Prompt List Words Used: Canceled Plans To Snuggle & Fuck, cup of hot chocolate, favorite blanket

Feature: Osamu Dazai x Chuuya x Fem! Reader

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dazai has been trying to figure out something to bring a spark to you yours and his sex life. He doesn't want for sex like you do and he knows your appetite can be insatiable so he started searching different kinks until he comes across cuckolding. He brought it up to you one night. He tells you the ins and outs of it and asks if your down for it. You agree because you do want to get fucked like a real man should fuck his woman. However Dazai takes care of you in the emotional ways he lacks the sexual side of things so you feel this might be something worth doing. Then the words you thought you would never hear from his lips. "Belladonna, name one man you want to be your bull to fuck you and breed you." You never thought you would hear something like this but the first thought that comes to your mind is his old partner Chuuya.

You have had the hots for that man for a long time. He gives you the thought that he could be aggressive in bed the way you wished Dazai could be. However you get the best of both worlds it seems you get the hard core sex from Chuuya and the aftercare from Dazai what could be better you thought. You waisted no time answering his question. "I would like to be fucked like a dirty whore from Chuuya while you watch". You had no idea what got into you saying it like that. It was like a animalistic side to you that wanted him to know that you craved to be a fuck toy to his ex partner that fight all the time. He would have to watch him deep in his girls pussy getting her pregnant and make hot cream pies. He nodded at your request and knew he now had to bring it up to Chuuya and had no idea how to approach him with it.

The next day Dazai came home and told you he had stopped by the sex shop and got a few toys including a cock and ball chastity cage for him. This was all new you had never heard of any of these things but were still curious anyways. You two always had a pretty vanilla sex life since he was no where near as sexual as you were. After he showed you his toys he still told you he hadn't taken the leap to talk to Chuuya yet, you put your hand on his. "Do you want me to ask him?" He was stunned by this but he felt it should be his job as your partner to ask plus it was the humiliation as well. He was surprised the thought of being humiliated in front of his wife and Chuuya was a bit of a turn on. He had approached you in the past with only one thing he thought that would turn him on and the was erotic asphyxiation and you just weren't down for that double suicide shit.

The next night was supposed to be dinner plans together instead Dazai came home and said he had great news to tell you. He came in poured you and him a cup of hot chocolate and told you his idea for the evening. "Belladonna, this is going to be the greatest night of your life. Chuuya is coming over to fuck you." Your chin almost dropped, this was real, it was happening. You honestly never thought Dazai would go through with it. You sipped your hot chocolate then you decide to get ready for a evening of canceled plans. You cancel the restaurant plans because tonight is about fucking, sucking, and getting owned by Chuuya then having soft snuggly cuddles with your sweet Dazai after. After getting out of the shower you place one of the sexiest lingerie's you have on that Dazai never much cared for. This was time to turn Chuuya on like Dazai never could be.

Dazai tells you that its about humiliating him, and refusing him attention and your not sure you can pull this off because you do love him but your willing to try this. By the time you come out into the bedroom there is Dazai sitting in a chair at the end of the bed he has the cock chastity on preventing him from being able to cum or get hard. It really does look like a torture device but he seems like he is comfortable then he shows you a pair of handcuffs. You put them on him from behind the chair and you know this party is getting ready to play out how only in your head it has. So many nights you would touch yourself masturbating to the thought of Chuuya fucking you. You get a knock at the door knowing this is it, showtime baby. You kiss Dazai on the lips "I do love you, my love." The last words from your lips before everything changes.

You open the door and of course Chuuya walks in like he owns the place. Already complaining under his breath. Luckily before you opened the door you had put Dazai's trench coat around you because it seems the longer you talk to Chuuya you find that Dazai didn't even tell him why he was there just he wanted him to come with his wife. What Dazai was saying was right but was Cum with his wife, not come and he never clarified with Chuuya. After you explained everything to Chuuya he walked in to the bedroom where Dazai was sitting undressed in the cock and ball torture and he walks up and smacks the hell out of him. He cusses him out for being a idiot but then something flips with Chuuya and he plainly tells Dazai he was gonna fuck his woman real good. This made you blush at the very thought that Chuuya was going to leave your pussy raw when he was done. You knew he was doing this to taunt Dazai but thats ok its the best of it all.

You walk over to Chuuya and you untie the trench coat leaving you in nothing but a sexy black and red lingerie with garter belt and crotch less panties. The look that came across his face already excited you. He started taking his gloves off and this man could make a art of this the very thought of him removing them before he fucked you like a lil cum slut was turning you on. He grabbed hold of you and kissed you hard and deep then assaulted your mouth with his tongue. The taste of alcohol on his breath with a slight smoky his smell normally would turn you off but you wanted him and you wanted him bad. His hands easily wandered your body, you could feel Dazai's eye on you both. At first it was awkward then it became pretty hot knowing he was watching couldn't change his mind or stop you two but you could be fucked while he watched.

Chuuya picked you up and threw you back on the bed spreading your thighs for you giving Dazai a good look then he rips your panties completely off exposing your perfectly pink pussy waiting to be violated. As Dazai's eye met yours Chuuya shoved 2 fingers right into your twat making you gasp and whimper at his touch. You could tell that caught Dazai off guard like he already wanted this to stop even though he didn't say the words you could see it in his eyes. Chuuya mouthed off to Dazai with a cocky sound in his voice. "How does it feel Dazai to know I'm getting ready to turn your woman into my cum slut? I'm going to breed the little bitch and your gonna watch me fill her little pussy with my hot seed." He laughed as he slammed fingers in and out of you as you squirm and moan. Every time you moaned it sickened Dazai knowing that Chuuya was doing this to you. He thought this would be fun but its not and he begs Chuuya to stop. Of course he got rejected and then he whispered into your ear to tell Dazai what you just said.

You look up at Dazai as Chuuya is still finger fucking you. You moan and aggressively tell Dazai. "Chuuya owns my pussy I want him to breed me!" He laughs as he can see the way its almost bringing tears to Dazai's eyes. He couldn't believe that you really wanted Chuuya even though you could see it was breaking him. He realized he loved you and wanted you to himself and here you were being a little cum dumpster for his ex partner. After Chuuya got your pussy all sopping wet he pulled out his massively big cock, you knew there was no comparison to Dazai his cock was way thicker. He put the head of his prick up to your entrance making sure he had you angled perfectly for Dazai see him own your pussy. The head of his cock already dripping precum and throbbing as he pushes just the head in. You can feel it stretching you already but your pussy hungers for it, you can't wait to milk that prick for every drop of cum it has in it.

Chuuya looks over at Dazai and with one swoop slammed his cock so far into you. His cock so massive you were in tears as he stretched that fuck hole of yours. As Dazai saw tears stream down your face he started cussing Chuuya out threatening to kill him after this. Of course Chuuya wasn't listening he grabbed you by the hips and slammed into you then pulled all the way out and did it again repeatedly. He made you cry, and moan until it felt so good you begged him not to stop. His pulsating member felt so good in you, he was everything more in what you hoped he would be. You worried awhile how Dazai was reacting to this now the very thought of him watching you get fucked was really turning you on. You even found Dazai being tied up and humiliated and being degraded by Chuuya as he fucks you even more of a turn on. You hungered for more you moaned and screamed as Chuuya made your cunt his.

Chuuya pushed your face down into the bed pulling your ass up into the air thrusting his cock back into that wetness. He did it so there would be a good view as he busted a nut spilling his cum deep into that fuck hole of yours. He pulled his cock out letting it drip off the sides of your pussy before pushing it back in watching it spill out more. It pure sickened Dazai what Chuuya was doing but he was really enjoying it. He slammed his cock deep almost to your cervix causing you to tremble with orgasms. He ravaged your little cunt that dripped his spunk over and over again leaving you exhausted yet still wanting to be bred more. He was determined he was going to make sure he knocked you up so he kept filling you with more and more of his hot seed. Every time he did he would make sure that Dazai could see it spilling out of you. When he was done making you his own personal cum slut, leaving your pussy violated and bruised from his cock he did something you didn't expect.

Chuuya grabbed Dazai and slammed his face into your pussy. He put his foot on his back humiliating him. Yelling at him "Lick that fuckin cream pie out of her and know its how I got her fuckin pregnant". His words were rough and cold yet somehow they made your pussy pulsate thinking about it. Dazai had tears coming from his eyes as he made him eat the cream pie right out of you. At first you were a bit disgusted but oh did it turn you on knowing the man who will have gotten you pregnant is making him lick up the mess he left. After Chuuya was done with you and you really felt like his cum slut however you were ok with that. He satisfied you like no other man even Dazai had ever done. Then you uncuffed Dazai and with all your wetness there exposed you were a bit turned on by the idea of having more than one man's cum in your tonight. You undid his chastity and it didn't take long for his prick to get hard for you.

"Dazai, I want you to fuck me!" He looked at you like he wanted you more than anything. He took his cock and started stroking it in front of you which really got you turned on again for him. He didn't last long because even though he didn't want to continue he couldn't help but know his body was so turned on watching her get owned by Chuuya. He thrusts a few times and he exploding inside of her pushing it deeper into her. Pushing Chuuya's cum deeper one of them was going to get you pregnant.

He positioned himself behind you pulling your favorite blanket over you while he spooned you thrusting his cock slowly in your now gaping hole. You had been fucked so hard that night that all you know is there is no more room for cum but doesn't mean that he didn't want to give you more. He snuggled up slowly fucking you until you two were out of energy and you both collapsed. Both of you breathing heavy after a wild night. After he picked you up and took you to the shower and washed every inch of you from top to bottom. Then carried you back to the bed where he held you the rest of the night in cuddles as you fell asleep together. Last words echoing in the night "I love you Belladonna." You smiled at him as you closed your eyes "I love you too, my love."

[thenwethrowitonthefire]

Hiii i'm sorry if i'm intruding on the conversation by asking this question but i'd love to hear your take on ride 'em cowboy! :] I love that song (as i do all of lil beethoven, haha) and i'm really interested in what you have to say about it (i love going through your answers to these sparks asks by the way, and i definitely relate to the feeling of wanting to write entire essays about particular songs)

Hi friend! 😁 Wow it's such a treat that people have been enjoying reading this stuff! Thanks for the ask! (And thanks Sparks-anon, you started this! I hope you will enjoy this answer as well.)

Okay. RIDE 'EM COWBOY. They had NO REASON* to go this hard with this song. (*They had every reason - this is Sparks and this is Lil' Beethoven.)

What I think cuts so hard with this song is that the majority of the song is comprised of constantly flipping the switch from praise to disdain, from favour to rejection, from inclusion to exclusion - it's a total fall from grace, it's someone flopping completely, losing it all. Every phrase crafted to hit as hard as it can, but in a slightly different way every time, cutting deeper with every line. Starting relatively simple and straightforward with the lines "They laughed with me, then laughed at me", then building with every new line, and later in the song getting more metaphorical and it's even outright violent. (Ron *really* knows how to heighten how emotionally brutal certain experiences are and knows how to cut deep into that. A true master of words.)

…And then the song says, fuck that!! This will not be my defeat! “Ride ‘em cowboy, ride ‘em//I got thrown again//Ride ‘em cowboy, ride ‘em//Get back on again”

There's many ways one could perceive those lines. It can be a “keep going despite it all”, “keep going to spite them all”, a simple “try again”, and even “just go on with your life and let them talk”, or whatever else someone needs to hear to keep them going. (Heck, if someone were to say “ride 'em cowboy” means "fuck the haters", or "fuck it - we ball", I'd call that valid, too.)

A part of this song that struck me immediately early on in my Sparks journey was “From great to good// From good to fair//To barely pass//Stay after class”. I hadn't been out of highschool that long at that point and I'd been a “gifted student” who in the end was really depressed and barely passed. I hadn't really recovered yet from how defeated that had left me feeling. So these lines were immediately my new friends. And since then my love for this song has only deepened more and more over time. I've stomped into my uni building with Ride ‘Em Cowboy blasting on my headphones countless times, on the good days and the bad. It honestly was really good at helping me deal with the pressure of having been one of four non-males in a male dominated field, often being underestimated or expected to prove myself.

“It's not your day//It's not your week//It's not your month//It's not your year” Lyric status: SICK ✧⁠\⁠(⁠>⁠o⁠<⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠✧

I don't live that life anymore, but obviously there are always times in life when this song is applicable all over again. One could see it as a ruthless acknowledgement of the fickleness of people's favour and opinions (also people's opinions of themselves, I might add), and the fickleness of perceived success. And it's a strong reminder to not fall victim to it.

Instrumentally it's absolutely striking and it's such a powerhouse of a song, you don't need to be currently living it to keep loving the hell out of it. Something that I find really cool about this song as well is that when there's words, abbreviations, sayings, or references in it that you're unfamiliar with (as was the case for me as a non-American non-native English speaker) or if you don't know French (my highschool French was enough for this one and I'm a huge fan of “From open door//To merde, alors”), it doesn't make you miss out on the meaning, but you can look all that stuff up and get hit in the face by this song all over again and with extra force.

I only looked up all the abbreviations I was not familiar with earlier this year, and I got to say… “BMOC//Then MIA”, Big Man On Campus, then Missing In Action. Dangit Ron. *Chef's kiss*

…But still, the line to potentially win it all?

"Olé, then gored"

[thatbadadvice]

Dear advisor,

(Apologies in advance, english is not my first language)

I made 2 friends in clg (K and P) i was especially close with K, talked and shared a lot with her. Suddenly she started being mean to me and it reached a point where we stopped talking. When i asked what her problem was, she basically said she prioritises P and i'm intruding their friendship, taking up all of P's time. And that hurt really bad, felt angry at them both. I gave them "space", stopped talking, it was more awkward because i didn't have friends other than them. Moving on, we got our finals result, K and P they both got second place and... i feel like shit. I really wanted to be better than them, show that i'm cool(ik its cringe) now i'm really insecure and feel so untalented. Every time i do something, i always think about how they would've done it much better. I'm on my final year, soon have to start applying for jobs and i don't want to be like this. I have already put them on a pedestal and can't stop comparing myself to them.

Readers sometimes send Bad Advisor their real-ass questions to answer, so the Bad Advisor is periodically going to try her hand at answering them. If you’d like to submit a question for a Good Advice Interlude, use the “ask” form!

Oh, friend! Thank you so much for sending in this question, and for having the bravery and aplomb to write it both elegantly and colloquially in a language that is not your original tongue.

Do you know what the Bad Advisor would have to do if she had to write an advice-seeking letter in another language? She would have to write to some French agony aunt and ask them where the bathroom is and if she can please have an Aperol spritz and do they like dancing? Because that is the extent of the Bad Advisor's ability to communicate in her non-native language! Please do not feel obligated to apologize for doing a brilliant and hard thing. For this reason alone, the Bad Advisor hopes you raise yourself in your own estimation, because the Bad Advisor is extremely the fuck impressed, and the Bad Advisor hopes her opinion counts for something. (After all, you asked!)

There is a saying in English: "Comparison is the thief of joy." This feels like a saying that should not be an English saying, because the English-speaking world, a world of colonizers and capitalists, is a world in which comparison is the foundation of all we do -- we compete, we contend, we dominate! (I, a professional writer with a better-than-average command of my native language, used a thesaurus to fill out that sentence!) But perhaps for this reason, we understand the trauma of comparison all the more deeply.

Comparison, that miserable poacher of happiness, robs us of our ability to appreciate so much: what we can do, what we enjoy doing, what we dream of doing. Cruelly, comparison hits us hardest in the parts of our lives we care most about. Would that it were otherwise! But it explains why I can thrill at watching the Olympics, or celebrate someone else's ability to change a car tire or swat a humongous bug without descending into despair. I have no expectation of myself that I will become an Olympic athlete (I simply could never), or change a tire (I can happily pay for this service), or deal with an insect intruder (only upon pain of death or the absence of my less-squeamish partner). But in my very worst and often even my entirely average moments? I sometimes squirm and froth upon reading a brilliant book, a thoughtful op-ed, or just an excellently executed sentence. Because those are things I believe I can, I must, I SHALL do! When I fail to do those things, or when I have not yet done those things -- things I believe myself to be capable of, things I believe I should be capable of -- I feel small and silly and worthless.

The only fix that I have found to those feelings of smallness and silliness is to acknowledge them and unpack them as signals that they are telling me something not about what I can't do, but about what I can do and deserve to do. These feelings come sometimes about people I deeply love and care about, and sometimes they come about strangers! But every time, they tell me something about myself that I have not tended and cared for and nourished and celebrated.

It is easy and satisfying and perhaps even motivating to be mad at and jealous of strangers; it is so much heavier and more shame-inducing to feel these feelings about people we know and love. And you were pushed aside by K and P, who you know and love(d), in ways that sound especially unfair and unkind. Which I expect makes this hurt all the more! I think you know you cannot fix whatever smallness and meanness made K and P sequester themselves and their relationship away from you; you're not asking about that. But you want to move beyond this feeling of having to win at life before or over them, and you recognize already that living in their shadow will only bring darkness to you.

Metaphorical solution: move out of the darkness by giving yourself a bigger world where there is more space to find sunlight. This world is waiting for you, because you are about to embark upon a post-college career that naturally lends itself to such! Perhaps you will see K and P's shadows for a while -- but as you move farther from their branches that shade your sunny picnic, you will find other, more welcoming spaces in which to enjoy your meal, and the tree at the other end of the park will seem less and less like it is threatening to ruin your good time.

Practical solution: indulge yourself in the things you love and care about most, honor and cultivate other people's interests in those same things, and find something wholly unrelated to fail at. To wit:

indulge yourself: someone will always be better, maybe even much better, at the thing you love and are best at. They might be first. They might, for now, be the only. That's inevitable. Work to do your best at what you love, and to be proud of what you're doing on your own terms. I can't think of a single discipline -- academic, arts, cultural, scientific, political, or otherwise -- in which any person on earth can claim to be the "first, last, and only." We all build on the work of others; the fact that someone did better than you or preceded you is only evidence that there is room for you to innovate, to change, to bring your own perspective. Internalizing this is really, really hard, and in my experience almost impossible to achieve if you resist the next bullet point.

support other people's interest in your field: this is different to "networking." I mean: find folks who you like and think are fun and interesting and maybe are a little newer to your thing than you are, and offer them guidance or just a place to commiserate and see where that takes you. The best cure for feeling bad about yourself is to do a good turn for someone else -- not out of pity or self-interest, but because helping other people lifts us up in immeasurable and intangible ways, sparks new ideas, and opens new venues for change and innovation.

fail at something: one of the best things you can learn to do is learn to be bad at shit. I'm bad at embroidery, and I do it a lot! I give my ugly embroidery things to friends and family members who appreciate the thought and the effort more than the execution! When I can't find anyone to give my bad embroidery to, I put it on the Bad Embroidery shelf in my office or pawn it off to my husband, who has his own Bad Advisor's Bad Embroidery Shelf in his office. I never get better at embroidery, but I keep doing it because: it's pretty enough even when it's bad, I don't need to succeed at it to enjoy it, and it calms my ADHD-addled mind even when I can't tell a tiger from a flower. I've learned to be bad at other stuff, too! I took up curling (the sport) and I love it and I fall the fuck over every time I try to deliver that ding-dang kettle. I have a bad knee and always have to use the newbie-balancing thing that first-timers train on. It's fine! And guess what? The people I curl with are really, really bad writers, and it makes me laugh and laugh to read their emails. And you know what? They don't care that I'm bad at curling and I don't care that their emails are poorly written.

the tl;dr: Earlier in my Bad Advice days, I advised letter-writers to go learn to paint or some shit when they were having a bad time with a fixation on a bad relationship or situation, and I stand by that advice. Learn something new because you deserve something new! You have a bright fucking future ahead of you that involves neither K nor P beyond the great gift they have given you of showing you that your people will always value your input, create space for you and your brilliance, and honor and respect your boundaries.

You can do this, because you already want to. Good luck and let us know how it goes!

[safetycar-restart]

Esteban in the d/s AU.

He tries to pretend he doesn’t need you. Until Pierre, he’s been with teammates who are mostly dominant, if not outright dominant, so he felt like he never could lean on you the way he needed to. He did all the required sessions, but he felt that he was being ‘weak’ by going to you more than what was scheduled because his teammates never needed that extra support. You’ve been with the team since it was called Renault, but you haven’t been so busy the way you know other team-contracted Doms have been.

Until Pierre. Pierre learned to lean on his Dom at alphatauri because they were some of the only support he got. So he asks for extra sessions when he needs them. And you’re always available because Esteban has never done that. And he sees Pierre doing it and realizes it isn’t something to be ashamed of because Pierre isn’t acting like it is, and and first Esteban might think that’s a front Pierre puts on but Pierre doesn’t just act like that when he knows Esteban can see, he’s requesting sessions through team management sometimes, it’s not always in the open.

Eventually, Esteban gets desperate enough to request a session outside of his regularly scheduled ones and it helps him so much. He requests another two the following race weekend. It’s Monaco. He gets a podium.

Ok so I was emptying out my askbox and how the fuck did I miss this?? This is incredible?? I can't believe I haven't answered this yet, we need to discuss this concept more oh my god.

So firstly, poor este being surrounded by doms. He's already had to fight twice as hard as his peers to be recognised and respected because of his sub status, so there was no way he was going to let himself seem weaker than he already was. He knew he couldnt be needy or desperate, couldnt allow himself to be seen that way.

And the worst part is that he LOVES his scenes with you? It was different at Force India, he didnt bond with that dom or feel comfortable with them.

But then he joined Renault and you became his team dom and he just... he loves scening with you so much. For the first time he's counting down the days until he can scene with you again, fantasising about being able to kneel for you whenever he wanted to. He finds himself nearly in tears when his aftercare is finished and he has to leave, has to stop himself from begging you to let him stay.

The first indication that Pierre is very different with you is when he finds out Pierre stays the night more often than not? He hears you and Pierre discussing when he'll scene with you next, and you remind him to tell his trainer to drop his dinner off at you hotel room.

He's confused about why Pierre would be having dinner in your hotel room and when he asks Pierre about it, Pierre is confused about why esteban isnt.

"You seriously leave immediately?" Pierre asks, shocked, "I stay the night. Just relaxing in a light subspace is the best part!"

Esteban doesn't know what to do with that information, and then he later hears Pierre arranging an extra scene with you. He realises Pierre does this all the time, that he just asks you for what he needs and you give it to him, even though it's above what's required.

He has to work up the courage to ask for that himself, especially because it's been years with you as his team dom by this point and he's never asked before, so he feels like he can't suddenly do it now.

But he needs it so bad? He's filled with restless energy and he knows he won't be able to sleep properly that night and he wants to sub so bad that his heart aches.

When he does ask, he stutters his way through the question in a bastardised mix of French and English and has to try two more times before you even realise what he's asking.

And then you just pull him into a hug, telling him you're so proud of him for asking for what he needs and that you would love to do a scene that night with him. You tell him that he should bring some PJs with just in case he decides to spend the night.

He loves every moment of that scene, and when it comes time to leave he even asks if he can stay, and he gets praised so much for speaking up.

[cicerenella]

Do you have any headcanons on whether Romano visited the Americas during Spain’s colonial rule over Latam? I’m from Latin America (Mexico specifically) and I’ve seen a lot of people in the Latam fandom headcanon Romano to have visited the colonies before but truth be told, I know next to nothing about Italian history 😅 so I don’t really know how much truth this headcanon holds. I love your characterization of the Italy bros btw!!

First of all, thank you! I really appreciate all the support you guys give, it makes my heart melt❤️❤️

Anddd, to answer your question, I don't think Romano visited latin America during the spanish colonial times *gasp!* But I think he went AFTER he became independent.

And the answer is very simple. Up until the early 1700, Romano was a spanish dominated territory as well! Now, I don't think he could possibly go to Latin America since Spain basically kept him in his house (a bit paranoid aren't we?) so to not let him achieve his independence. But he EVENTUALLY did become independent, after a not so friendly quarrel with a certain Austrian...

But the next years weren't easy on Romano either, because our kingdom of Naples/Sicily was already fighting off a particular French and making 236 different coalitions against him. But after the Napoleonic reign fell, Southern Italy was again free, bringing us to the creation of The Kingdom Of Two Sicilies!

Now, I never thought about Romano visiting LatAm during this period. But if someone headcanons him going, I would suggest the time period of the kingdom of two sicilies (and prior to the Italian Unification). Its the only time he had a moment of quiet and everyone didn't want to conquer his territories LMAOO. anywaysss I hope my answer satisfied you! Mexico is a really fascinating country💕

[lheautontimoroumenos]

cops + govt are absolutely bastards and i wish the one who killed nahel would get more than whats (probably) going to be given to him, and i support the riots going on for justice and to bring this issue to the forefront. but honestly how hard is it to not attack schools and places where people live? there were families in danger with the car on fire releasing fumes into the building. little kids aren't going to be able to go to school or will have to have counseling to understand whats going on

hi anon! I'm glad you're asking this and I'll try to be careful and kind in my answer. If my tone comes off kind of angry I apologize, I just meant to avoid this kind of reaction with my post.

I'm gonna try to answer this in two big parts where it seems we disagree : first the "how hard is it not to attack schools" side of the problem.

Then I'll go more widely on the questioned necessity of destruction and its nature.

(also I apologize if not everything is clear, the French to English brain on this topic is kinda weird, I'm open to more asks if you want something more precise).

Alright, PART UNO, Why Burn Down Schools

Okay, so absolutely no offense, but I'm gonna guess you were a good or at least okay student and therefore had a good relationship to school. I'm also gonna assume you didn't go to school in the banlieue or in establishments on the REP/ZEP list (Network or Zone of Priority Education), this classification is done based on the IPS or Social Position Indicator. Etablishments in REP in Paris today are around 90; the one I went to as a kid around 74; in Nanterre, where Nahel was killed, high schools are around 90 and middle schools between 80 and 90. By comparison Henri IV and Louis Le Grand, two very prestigious high school in downtown Paris have an IPS of around 140. The point being that in those spaces, even if you personally do well as a student, most of your peers have a very different relationship to the institution that is "school".

It has been widely accepted since Bourdieu's Les Héritiers (1964) that school is a machine that reproduces and legitimizes inequalities. We know children of workers, little employees, and people working low wage jobs do worse in school than children of teachers, or state workers, or people working high paying jobs, or that have already done high level studies. We also know these kids get to school at the same time but with a different baggage, and that the baggage from relatively rich (in economic or cultural capital) kids coming from relatively rich families is favored over the baggage from kids from poor families. That is because the first one belongs to what Bourdieu calls "legitimate culture", which is not legitimate in and of itself but legitimized by the dominant class to keep itself where it is. I'm not gonna talk about Les Héritiers the whole time, but in addition to the class difference and struggle in legitimate culture is a struggle especially present in banlieues of foreign culture being considered illegitimate.

The point is not that poor kids or kids of color are bad at school and that's just how it is, but that school as an institution is already a violence to them. It is traumatizing, built to make them fail, all the while telling them it's their fault because school is fair and based on merit. But it's not, because it values things and abilities as if all students start off from the same point (which is false) and make them believe the run was fair (which is false as well). Sometimes the blame is on the teachers, but most often it is the institution that inherently fails them and lowers their self-esteem. (Also, fun fact, I think it was a study done by IPSOS that showed that if they had the same grade, let's say an average of 9/20, in CE1, kids of workers were more likely to be made to redo their year, whereas rich kids would go to the next level anyway).

So you're right, it's easy to think that you shouldn't burn down a school when your rapport to it is: "what a great place, even if it pisses me off sometimes, I learn things and I can see my friends and have fun, burning it down would not help". But when school is a) a violence to you, and b) a lot of the time already breaking down because regardless of what they say on TV the State does not allocate enough resources to banlieues, well it's easier to burn it to the ground (this way maybe they'll actually rebuild it and be careful about abestos/amiante).

That doesn't mean it's good or right or forgivable and therefore forgiven (that's to your own discretion), but what it is, is understandable. These kids are fighting against a whole system, the police, its support by the State, and more widely the State itself and its shitty handling of banlieues and their inhabitants.

Okay, PART DOS, Is Violence Necessary, If So Which Kind

I'm gonna assume and hope you're not one of the people jerking off to theoretical revolution and praising the black block but getting scared when things actually get serious.

You're saying you wish they would be capable of keeping the riots to actual figures of police violence, I guess, or at least try not to harm innocents or do too much collateral damage (thinking about libraries, etc. I hope you can understand how schools also stand as violence to the rioters now).

My gut reaction is to say that's just not possible. If you really want the revolution and the change that comes with it (not just repealing the 2017 law), you have to be prepared to make sacrifices and for collateral damage (again, not saying it's good or right, or that you should thrive for it, just that it's virtually impossible to do without it).

I know some people have been saying they should go to actual places of power, go shake Darmanin out of his fascist bubble, but I also think people don't realize what this means. In the banlieues, they are in known and mostly friendly territory, which makes it easy for them to use the "be water" strategy (scatter when cops arrive). They know these streets and where to run, where to climb, where to hide. If they were to go to downtown Paris? they wouldn't have any of these advantages, plus they would be faced with the anti-riot plan built into the very architecture of the city streets (Haussman and Napoleon III I hate you). Just like the Parisians demonstrated against the pension reform in Paris, the place they know, the banlieusards are doing the same in the banlieues.

Now endangering kids is not the way to go, there we agree. The point of disagreement is that you think the rioters are going to be the ones making victims whereas I think the cops will, and already have (see the guy killed in Marseille by a flash ball impact, or the one from Mont-Saint-Martin in a coma).

(If you want to read something about the price of revolution, I'd recommend Les Justes by Camus, it's pretty short and you can come to different conclusions when you're done.)

You wrote "people need to have consideration for other kids in France". That sounds a tad condescending to me but I don't think you meant it that way. The problem is that they are not considered by other kids in France! as was showed in 2005 and as is showed today by the reactions on social media. You are asking the oppressed to make the first act of love here, and in a way you're right, Paulo Freire would say that next to violence, a revolution is only successful if it contains radical love, and that cannot come from the oppressor, but it is also a hard thing to ask of people. Especially when they know they will be ignored if they don't shake the political landscape a little.

I think you would enjoy reading Paulo Freire's Pedagogy of the Oppressed, it's not too long and it's very interesting regarding this topic.

Now I'd be careful with how you talk about the kids needing to "control themselves" because it sounds condescending here as well (though again I don't think that is how you mean it) and can be understood quite badly. I think what you may be alluding to however is the crowd effect that the riots can have. Once you start, breaking things with your friends, it does feel good, you release energy, you laugh, it's a good time really. The risk is to take the euphoria too far and not realize what you're doing, which of course happens but is really magnified by the media and is actually pretty marginal in the actual riots. But you're right that being in a group makes you forget about yourself (see: demonstrations, sport fans, etc.) and the rioters are not exempt from that.

I think, if anything, what one could fault the rioters for is that they are alienating themselves sometimes from their own communities. That is really going the same as in 2005 I feel like, with some worried moms, or people who agreed at the beginning but think it's lasting too long now. The problem is that politically, the people saying they will stop the riots are the National Rally (fascists) and at a smaller scale Rebirth (Macron's party, right wing). But Macron won't be able to run again next time (we wouldn't want him to) and I doubt his party is gonna hold without him. That leaves us with the fascist RN. So the kids could be building up to their own destruction.

(It is still important to say that even if the RN is elected next time, it will NOT be the rioters fault but the fault of the people who voted for a fascist party to lead the country.)

I don't think I have anything left to say right now, if you have other questions/need precision my ask box is open!

If you want to read more about school as a very imperfect institution I would recommend reading stuff from François Bégaudeau, Entre les murs (it's fiction inspired by his reality as a teacher, there was also a movie), he also mentions it regularly in talks that you van find on YouTube. I'll recommend again Paulo Freire's The Pedagogy of the Oppressed because it really is an amazing book.

P.S. I wrote this with less than 5 hours of sleep so I might be repeating myself and/or forgetting things

[elmaestrostan]

@protect-daniel-james

Now I’ve not listened to the audio with full understanding because my Spanish isn’t quite that level, but there’s some parts they’ve put into the accompanying article that are just lovely.

Unai Emery: "The management of egos begins in oneself"

We talked about soccer and cycling with Villarreal's coach

SER Ciclista we like to get to know our guests in depth. The one in this episode is one of the most international and award-winning soccer coaches of our football, Unai Emery. He has trained Lorca, U. D. Almería, Valencia C. F., Spartak of Moscow, Seville F. C., Paris Saint Germain, Arsenal F. C. and Villarreal C. F., with which this season he maintains a brilliant trajectory in the League and Champions League, after being proclaimed last season champion of the UEFA Europa League for the first time in its history.

Unai remembers his worst fall, like all our guests, and for him the memory is associated with "when my aita (father) bought me the first bike, I left the garage, and at 100 meters I crashed into a parked car... I still remember the scare, I would be 10 or twelve years old, I got up scared, and still my father was coming towards me making a fuss...".

He recognizes that "cycling is a very popular sport in Gipuzkoa, in the Basque Country... we love cycling very much, they immediately buy us a ball, a bicycle..." The Gipuzkoan coach is one more link to a family of athletes originally from Hondarribia, a town located on the border with France, hence he recognizes that "my favorite mountain is Jaizkibel, which I always have in my mind." There he uses the bike "to go to the beach or the sports center," or to this first-class port, which he always has in his mind "when I want to demand." Of course, he can't take too many risks on the two wheels "I'm on insurance for my profession, I have friends who make trips in groups, I take care of myself so I don't have accidents and I try to do the tours by stationary bike."

He remembers a funny anecdote, "in Valencia we made a 25 kms outing in pre-season, we went up to a monastery, and Joaquín was the 25 kms cursing me."

Emery's career is, and has been, very successful, but not without difficulties, "when things are easy the merit of doing them is small... In difficulties you have to look for motivations..." He has trained in different countries, where he has had the opportunity to practice languages such as French "which in Hondarribia is one more language," or English "I deepened the base and now it is my third language." With what he couldn't is with Russian, "I'm in a few words."

About the use of our favorite vehicle, remember that "in Paris it was difficult to see a bicycle, in London, if... Moscow is a very chaotic city and because of the climate, it's difficult..."

From the football philosophy of the current coach of Villarreal, a reference recalling a 6-1 defeat at the Camp Nou, "the defeats are overcome, once lived you have to take out the profitable things, it is a negative experience that I want to make positive." And about the management of a wardrobe, "the management of egos begins in oneself, if not managing them begins to affect other people around, clubs, institutions you have to try to dominate or control them."

As usual in our podcast, Unai Emery answers the questions of some guests. Iñaki Bea, a bench partner and then a player in charge, reminds him of those shared experiences, and gives him the ability to make reflections on the characteristics of the athlete, "you have to have innate minimum conditions, then the technical skills, the conditions ... and the ability to improve." Our guest shares a crew (group of friends) with Patxi Vila, a cyclist who made the same trip as him, from active athlete to coach in the Movistar Team, and has long conversations and confidences with him.

Pedro Reverte (former soccer player and now Technical Director of UCAM Murcia) witnessed that transition from player to coach "Unai took the team at the age of 32, being a player, in half table... we had doubts, he entered the locker room and his message was very direct, he set two objectives: the playoffs and the promotion; the team began to achieve results, we got into the playoff, and we got the promotion." From that time Emery remembers that fate wanted his team to play the promotion against the Real Unión de Irún, a team of which his brother is president, "as a coach he owed me to another region, another city, other friends..." and eliminated him.

I would share tandem with "all those who have worked with me," with a special memory of Leo López, with whom he got the promotion of Lorca, "who passed away two years ago." And I wouldn't do it with those who "I didn't have attune in the day to day in Moscow."

One of the destinations in his football career was Sevilla, where he spent three and a half years, and won three consecutive Europa League titles. From there, one of the most popular characters in Spanish football, Monchi, asks him what marked him in his time at the Nervión club. It is clear "the feeling of belonging to the colors, to a team, the fans... the environment helps you to improve competitiveness. Monchi and I did a good tandem, it helped me on a personal and professional level."

Imanol Idiakez is his second in Villarreal and asks him "who would he like to have in the Director's car if he had to play a Tour in a time trial on the last day." The answer is clear, "the assistants or presidents you may have had." His brother, Igor Emery, reminds him of one of his cycling myths, Marino Lejarreta the "Junco de Bérriz", "I saw him in Hondarribia, he always amazed me, it was humility personified." And the journalist of Cadena SER in Seville, Santi Ortega, puts on the table one of the most repeated phrases by the Gipuzkoan, "you have to enjoy the road," recognizing that "he was a currante, he earned the respect of many people." Unai says goodbye to our podcast with an emotional memory for Juan Carlos Unzué, "it's wonderful to hear him."

[melpomeneprose]

CHARACTER QUESTIONNAIRE !!

Tagged by: myself.

Tagging: @withinycu, @adrienne-lafayette-official, @johngravessimcoe, @cavalrylad, @musenssang, @philip-hamilton-official, @sharp-teeth-and-wide-grins, @virgosjukebox. 💙

✧･ﾟ   𝐃𝐀𝐒𝐇 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄.

► BENJAMIN TALLMADGE.

Name: Benjamin Tallmadge.

Alias(es): Ben, Major Tallmadge, 2nd Continental Light Dragoon, Tall-boy, & Captain Tallmadge. “Beagle tilting his head.” (Creator of Washington’s spies tv).

“Beagle” “Washington’s hunting dog” (affectionate & derogatory, from both sides)

Gender: male (he/him).

Orientation: not your business.

(Bi, repressed and ashamed about it, but bi, in my personal portrayal and reading/headcanons, having read his memoirs & letters, but the truth is… as with Alexander Hamilton, we’ll never know). Age: 22-24.

Date of birth: February 25, 1754

Place of birth: Setauket or Brookhaven, Long Island, NYC.

For simplicity he’ll say, New York, sometimes.

Spoken language(s): English, Latin, trying really hard for French thus far not succeeding. Do code books count?

Occupation(s): soldier, spymaster, congressman, statesman. (au: lawyer) (modern verse: law student).

★  ⸻   APPEARANCE

Eye colour: blue, the kind you can drown in, it’s his most attractive feature, according to popular opinion.

Hair colour: dirty blonde.

Height: 6’0” (tall by 18th century standards).

Other: rarely ever seen out of uniform.

Has anxiety & PTSD, should probably touch grass. Deserves a hug and deserves better.

★  ⸻   FAVORITE

Colour: red, white, gold and blue, neutral black that suits everything or gray works to.

Song: Benjamin’s playlist.

Food: bread, salt, cheese, or fish.

Drink: brandy or wine.

★  ⸻   HAVE THEY...

Passed university: Yale college, top of his class!

Had sex: not your business.

Had sex in public: no.

Gotten pregnant/someone else pregnant: wants kids, but not that way, and not at this exact moment. Given the war.

Kissed a boy: no. (Yes) Nathan Hale.

Kissed a girl: yes.

Gotten tattoos: no.

Gotten piercings: no.

Been in love: he’s not sure if it counts, to be blunt, but for reason of answering, yes.

Stayed up 24+ hours: for the cause, yes.

★  ⸻   ARE THEY...

A virgin: not your business, also a construct society cruelly and hypocritically only applies to the fairer sex. (No).

A cuddler: yes.

A kisser: circumstantially.

Scared easily: most certainly not!

Jealous easily: yes!

Submissive: switch.

Dominant: none of your business.

In love: verse/thread dependant.

Relationship status: I am married to honour and the revolution until this is over. (Single).

★  ⸻   RANDOM QUESTIONS

TW for self-harm/suicide mention.

Have they harmed themselves: not unless you count accidentally falling in the Delaware river.

Thought of suicide/ideated: under the pressure of war, atrocities, violence and bloodshed. Yes. But rarely.

Attempted suicide: only if you count a Protestant martyr complex, as the son of a preacher it runs in the family.

Wanted to kill someone: side eyes Simcoe.

But he didn’t enjoy the killing in question.

Have/had a job: Washington’s staff.

Fears: death, abandonment, losing control, not being enough, losing the war, tyranny, his own capacity to help vs harm and the moral dilemma of mundane human existence and soldiering.

Sibling(s):

Samuel Tallmadge.

William Tallmadge.

John Tallmadge.

Isaac Tallmadge.

Parent(s): Susannah Tallmadge (née Smith)(deceased)/Rev. Samuel Tallmadge sr.

Children: verse/thread dependant.

Children In history:

Frederick A. Tallmadge

Maria Jones Tallmadge

William Smith Tallmadge

Harriet Tallmadge Delafield

Benjamin Tallmadge Jr.

Henry Tallmadge.

Significant other(s): Nathan Hale (deceased), Sarah Livingston (ex lover, kinda, sorta, it’s complicated & traumatizing).

Significant other(s) in history:

Mary Floyd (1784 to 1805).

Maria Hallet (1808 til death in 1835).

Pet(s): he should like to have a beagle, or grey hound, but, none presently.

Benjamin’s Wikipedia.

Benjamin’s memoir.

In canon: TURN.

Culper ring.

[mediumsofmayfair]

CHARACTER QUESTIONNAIRE !!

BORROWED FROM: @radicalrascals.

TAGGING: @opheliaximmortal, @eclipsecrowned, @behindviolenteyes, @sangcreole, @withinycu and @godpyre.

 ✧･ﾟ   𝐃𝐀𝐒𝐇 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄.

► ROWAN, MONA & MERRICK MAYFAIR. 

★  ⸻   GENERAL

Name: Rowan Mayfair | Mona Mayfair | Merrick Mayfair

Alias(es): The thirteenth (13th) witch | Ophelia | practitioner of Vodou

Gender: genderqueer (she/they) | female (she/her) | demi-girl (she/they)

Age: 26+ | 20+ | 24+

Date of Birth: November 7, 1959 | October 24, 1983 | September 20, you do the math

Place of Birth:  NOLA, Garden district | New Orleans, garden district | New Orleans, French quarter

Spoken Language(s): French, English, Telekinesis, ghost/demon conjuring, French Roman Catholic, foresight and spells | French, English, intersectional feminism, telekinesis, ghost/demon conjuring, spells, and ghost hunting | Haitian creole, French, English, aave, ghost/demon conjuring, spells & ghost hunting

Orientation: bi (male lean) | bi (non-discriminating!) | bi (female lean)

Occupation(s):  that’s Miss Doctor Rowan Mayfair, PHD to you! | running the coven of the articulate when Lestat becomes histrionic 🤷‍♀️ | practitioner of Haitian Vodou & Talamasca member

★  ⸻   APPEARANCE

Eye colour: green | blue | brown

Hair colour: blonde (canonically) (black in the TV show) | auburn/red | dark black

Height: 5’8” | 5’0” | 5’4”

Other: the emerald necklace connecting her through a deal her great ancestor, Suzanne Mayfair made to the preternatural ghost/demon Lasher akin to a whip and the sound of the wind. | dresses exceedingly feminine, performing her femininity like a Shakespeare thespian or drag Queen/King. | At minimum Merrick always has a book on hand and a hair accessory in her creole curls.

★  ⸻   FAVORITE

Colour:  purple the queenly kind | baby blue | Mayfair (emerald) green. Song: Rowan | Mona | Merrick

Food: beignets | gumbo | shrimp po’boy

Drink: champagne | wine | bourbon

★  ⸻   HAVE THEY...

Passed university: with above average marks! | no - but more than capable of doing so! | no but only because time never let her

Had sex: yes | yes - perhaps… a lot | yes

Had Sex in Public: no | don’t tempt her sounds thrilling | no

Gotten pregnant/someone else pregnant: yes | no | no

Kissed a boy: yes | yes | yes

Kissed a girl: yes | yes | yes

Gotten tattoos: no | no | no

Gotten piercings: yes | yes | yes (ears for all of the above) Merrick, also pierced her nose

Been in love: yes | yes | yes

Stayed up 24+ hours: yes | yes | no

★  ⸻   ARE THEY...

A virgin: no | no | that’s a colonizer social construct.

A cuddler: yes | yes | no

A kisser: kinda? | yes | depends who you ask

Scared easily: no | no | no

Jealous easily: no | no | yes

Trustworthy: they’re Mayfair women, the answer is collectively no.

Submissive: yes | switch | yes

Dominant: in the mental sense | switch | no

In love: as a whole, not yet, they’d know.

Relationship status: collectively? It’s messy and complicated, of course Quinn Blackwood, Louis de Pointe du Lac and Lestat de Lioncourt count! In that case… taken but complicated. Let us not begin on the family ghost.

★  ⸻   RANDOM QUESTIONS

TW for self-harm/suicide mention.

Have they harmed themselves: yes | not deliberately | (yes in canon) no (in my portrayal)

Thought of suicide/ideated: yes | yes | yes

Attempted suicide: yes | no | yes

Wanted to kill someone: yes but shush | he deserved it! | with good reason

Have/had a job: yes | of a kind | yes

Fears: a family legacy she can’t outrun, Lasher, violent men, the church, the state, and the future and being “enough.” | existential stuff, none of your concern | misogyny, racism, violence, injustice, the burden and blessing of family, and upholding her mothers legacy.

★  ⸻   FAMILY

A mess, that puts the Ptolemaic dynasty to shame.

See here.

On the Mayfairs and Lasher.

Lives of the Mayfair Witches.

Bonus, these threes collective playlist.

[ochipi]

Hi ! How are you ? You seem really cool ! I have a few questions for you :)

I was wondering what parts of your studies did you like the most ? Like a favorite subject , specific assignments , a very good teacher...

Do you still struggle with gender stereotypes in your line of work ? And if yes do you see an evolution since you started ?

And it's a little unrelated so i understand if you don't want to answer ,but i saw belgium in your description, do you speak french ?

Hi! So nice of you to stop by!

I'm okay at the moment, the end-of-the-week-tiredness has set in.

I never really knew what archaeology classes would be about, and I have noticed between colleagues who went to different unies that classes may very a whole lot. However I never expected myself to like landscape and ecology as much as I have. It's super duper interesting and all of a sudden with just a few classes things made so much more sense! I'm Belgian with a Dutch father and going to the Netherlands all the things I was so used to seeing in the landscape suddenly told me stories that go back 450 years or even pre-history!

Within archaeology itself there isn't that much of gender stereotypes going around. Archaeology is one of the most LGBTQA+ friendly work environments and I can name many colleagues who are on that "spectrum", including myself! People are often surprised to hear that archaeology is dominated by women. Very few male archaeologists will feel bad about it. It's a fact and that's it. It's nice to have men around because they are just physically stronger than women. On the other hand women tend to have a longer attention span and are better at detail work such as skeletons and have a better steady hand. But the basic heavy labor is equal to us both. The public however only knows archaeology stereotypes: dinosaurs, treasures, Indiana jones,... and they all expect us to look like Phil Harding (Phil I love you, but sorry :/).

I am indeed Belgian, but Flemish born so a native Dutch speaker. I have learned French but don't use it often and im much better at Germanic languages. I have learned high level English in no time, could speak basic German in two and a half months and I understand some Swedish, I know how to use Cyrillic, and am comfortable around Old Dutch, Old (High) German, Anglo Saxon, Frisian and old Norse. I can transcribe Gothic and Early Modern Dutch and English.

However I have tried Spanish, couldn't get going with it, and after all of the years I've had French in school, its actually pathetic and im almost scared to speak it because they focussed so much on exceptions in the language that we lost track of basics. Latin was never a question. Plain "nope".