#angry australian man yells

[sunrizef1]

What happens in Vegas pt 1.5

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Authors Note: had to write this twice because tumblr deleted it lol. Not sure how to tag this so I’m just tagging my general tags. Proofread but not well.

Warnings: Blood, cursing

Summary: When the drivers found Max cheating

Masterlist

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“Dannyyyyyy” your voice rings out through the noise of the crowded club, your words catching the attention of the Australian in question.

The Aussie turns his head, a grin on his face as he holds up a bottle of champagne he seemed to have convinced the bartender to hand over. You laugh at his state, drunkenness clear in the way he sways as he staggers over to you. You wrap an arm around his tall shoulder, leaning on him in order to sort out your own less-than-sober state.

Lights flash brightly around the two of you, fellow drivers and F1 employees spread throughout the club, not including anyone from Red Bull for some reason.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to care, vodka practically running through your veins as you celebrated your win. You had won your home race and you were surrounded by your friends. The absence of some people you didn’t really like didn’t bother you all too much.

“Have you seen Logan?” You look up toward the Aussie again, eyes darting quickly around the club for your friend. You had been with the blond practically the whole night but as soon as you had gone looking for Danny, he had disappeared from your side.

Luckily, you didn’t have to search for long as another arm comes and wraps around your shoulder suddenly. You turn your head to find Logan, a dopey smile on his face and, weirdly, sunglasses.

He had been drinking just as much as the rest of you had, even downing about half a bottle of vodka in under twenty minutes. Better than you would’ve done considering you thought vodka tasted like shit. Good for shots though.

You reach up and fix the glasses that had gone sideways on his face. His hand follows yours, still clutching a drink as he follows your lead in fixing the random glasses.

“Why’d you have glasses on?” You have to yell slightly as you say it, prompting Danny to glance over from where he’d been watching Lando convince the current DJ to let him have a go. You’d have to give it to him, the man’s pretty convincing when he’s drunk.

“Someone gave them to me, not sure when, don’t really care. They’re sick though, right?” Logan leans back slightly to give you both a full look at him and you laugh as he sways a bit. His blond hair is ruffled and he’s acquired someone’s paddock pass throughout the night, along with the glasses and he’s looking like he came straight from the race itself.

“Yeah! You look great, mate!” Danny’s laughing behind you and Logan grins while he leans back into the little huddle you’ve created, patting Danny on the back as he does.

“Where are we heading then, gang?” Logan slurs, downing the rest of his drink and slamming it down on a nearby table and then turning his entire form toward the two of you.

You walk forward a bit, dragging the two drivers with you, both of their arms falling off your shoulders, “I was gonna go back to my room but I can't find max.”

You had already been dealing with Max’s absence since, well, yesterday at that point and it definitely contributed to about 5 of the shots you had taken. By now it was about 1 am, you had been in the club for hours, you were hungry and drunk and just really wanted to go to bed. But you couldn't do that because you couldn't find max and something in your drunken mind said you had to find him before you could go to bed. Something about not going to bed angry after a fight.

A fight that, truly, you didn't really have a part in. It wasn't your fault that Max had lost. I mean, it technically was but you shouldn't have been expected to let him win. Red Bull had practically been asking you to lose to him all season and you win once and suddenly Max is yelling about how inconsiderate you are.

“Come on,” Danny starts to walk toward the exit, leading you and Logan behind him as he does. The three of you stagger through the crowd, many people stopping you go congratulate you and chat as you do. By the time you've reached the strip, you've completely forgotten about Max and instead, you're only thinking about the hunger in your stomach.

“Im starving,” you mumble as you lay your head on Logan who smiles down at you, once again wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

You pay no mind to the cameras flashing as the three of you walk out or the stares that come your way. You’re more concerned about where the nearest restaurant is.

Logan moves away from you to dig through his pocket and you take the opportunity to adjust your dress, the fabric suddenly too tight on your heated body. You also wish you could take off the shoes that were causing your feet to ache. Danny takes a swig from the bottle that he, surprisingly, had been allowed to take from the club. Hair sticks to your foreheads and clothes sit rumbled and wrong. The spitting image of three elite athletes.

Logan moves back toward you to hand you the phone he had just pulled from his pocket. You had honestly forgotten you had given it to him to hold considering your dress didn’t have pockets.

“Thank you,” you nod gratefully, unlocking it to an influx of messages from friends and family congratulating you on your win or sending pictures from the club.

You clutch the device tightly as you cross your arms in an attempt to shield yourself from the cold Vegas air.

When a particularly cold chill runs through your body, you’re suddenly moving down the sidewalk, heels clicking as you try not to sway. The boys behind you follow in suit, seemingly trusting the, for the purposes of this race, Vegas native.

“Where we going, then?” Logan asks, a yawn escaping him as he readjusts the sunglasses perched on his nose.

“There’s a shake shack at New York New York,” you follow suit in yawning, pointing slightly ahead at the Empire State shaped hotel in front of you.

Daniel hums, “I want a burger.”

You laugh slightly, leading both of them toward the restaurant.

You three get there pretty quickly, ordering random greasy food that your trainers would probably disapprove of. When you sit down, you pull out your phone and send a quick series of text to Max to ask where he was. He hadn’t been there the whole night and you had finally started to miss him. He reads the messages but doesn’t reply, leaving you with a sick feeling in your stomach.

You bite into a fry to try and cover the nausea, opening your text chain with Charles and texting him instead. He actually replies this time and soon enough, Charles is on his way to you three from wherever he had gone to sober up earlier in the night.

“Charles is on his way,” you say through another yawn, eating a fry.

Daniel scarfs down a few bites of his burger, swallowing a full gulps of his drink right after, “For what?”

“Gonna help me find Max probably. We’re all too drunk to do anything by ourselves anyway.”

“Not too drunk to order food by ourselves,” Logan says, probably louder than he needs to, leaning back in his chair, glasses still on and a drink in his mouth, “Let’s fucking goooooooo.”

He follows Daniel’s lead and starts to munch on his food quickly, food you’d paid for by the way, when you turned out to be the only one who could get their Apple Pay to work.

You take a couple more bites of your food while the boys scavenge their food as if they hadn’t eaten in years.

“Hey guys!” You look up to see a particularly sober Charles Leclerc strolling through the shake shack door. You perk up when you see him, a small smiling making it through the exhaustion you were feeling.

“Hey Cha,” you say, standing up to give him a small hug, staggering a bit on your heels as you do. He leans back as you release him and steadies you, holding something up to you as he does.

Your eyes widen as he holds up a pair of converse in your eyesight and you gasp happily, quickly sitting back down in your chair and starting to fumble with the clasps on your heels.

Your fingers shake with exhaustion and alcohol and the clasp escapes your hands more than a couple times.

“Here, let me do it,” Charles offers as he sets the shoes down on the ground next to you before kneeling in front of your chair and grasping your ankle lightly.

You don’t look across the table to see Daniel and Logan making kissy faces at each other as they both stuff their faces with greasy food and soda. But you can hear their mocking kiss noises and you roll your eyes as you finally look their way, glaring as you do. They both shut up and go back to the phones in their hands.

Charles makes quick work of the clasps on both shoes, sliding the heels off your feet and untying the converse before handing them to you. You slide the shoes on and stand up, wrapping up your excess shake shack as you do.

Logan makes a noise of protest as you move to throw the food away and you sigh before sliding it across the table back to him. He makes quick work of the food, with help from Daniel reaching over his shoulder to grab food in between Logan’s bites.

You and Charles wait quietly for the two of them to finish. You eventually open your mouth to ask him a question but he seems to beat you there.

“Do you know where Max is?” He says quietly, eyes staring kindly at your tired state.

“No, he hasn’t answered my texts,” you mumble sadly, head falling to rest against your hand on the table. Charles moves slightly closer to let you rest your head on his shoulder and your eyes start to flutter closed. You were just nodding off when a loud band comes from across you and your eyes open to see Logan slamming his empty drink on the table just before Daniel does as well.

They both move from the table quickly and you and Charles rush to follow them as they bound out of the restaurant in their drunken stupor.

“Let’s go find max!” Daniel yells out swinging an arm around the blond man’s shoulders.

“To finding max!” Logan responds swinging his own arm around Daniel.

You and Charles share a look at the two of them. You had been just as drunk as them but you seemed to be sobering up quicker than both of them.

You glance down to see your heels clutched in Charles hand and pull out your phone to take a picture while he’s busy looking over your shoulder at the two drunk formula one driver some yards away.

“Come back here, losers!” Charles called out to the two of them and they both turn back to you and stumble over, seemingly dancing to music that wasn’t playing.

“We’re going to Omnia,” Charles says to the three of you and that’s all the boys need to turn around and wander toward a building they don’t know the location of.

You roll your eyes at them but follow quickly after, trying to make sure they don't wander too far away. Charles is quick to walk beside you.

The walk isn't too far, your drunkenness slowly decreasing throughout the stroll. Luckily for you and Charles, by the time you all get to the club, Daniel and Logan have sobered enough to at least walk in a straight line.

Omnia is nestled inside of Caesars Palace so it wasn't hard to find but Daniel and Logan do both try and walk past the hotel. You and Charles have to call them back and drag them into the lobby of the hotel.

The four of you wander over to the club, glancing around but when your efforts seem fruitless, you decide to wander around the area instead of just looking at the club.

The four of you wander around aimlessly, looking for any signs of your boyfriend. You glance up to see Charles with his eyes set forward, still clutching your heels in his hands. Logan and Danny fall in line next to the two of you, seemingly sobered enough to be helpful now.

Eventually you round a corner and come face to face with a surprisingly empty area, not a soul in sight. The silence almost echoes off the vaulted ceiling, making the sound of your four sets of shoes seem almost loud in comparison.

You don’t see anything in the room and go to turn around when Logan catches your elbow, “Is that him?”

You turn back around to follow Logan’s point, eyes locking on a brunette man. Of course, Logan has just been extremely inebriated so his judgement probably wasn’t the best but you decide to listen to him anyway.

You move to take a step toward the man when he stumbles backward, letting you see that it is, in fact, your boyfriend. But what causes your eyebrows to furrow is the familiar girl hanging off of him, lips practically attacking his own.

You can’t move. Your eyes are locked on the couple and your feet are solidly rooted to the marble floor. You think you might be crying, you wouldn’t be able to tell. The only thing that pulls you out of it is the feeling of a pair of heels being shoved into your arms. You glance up just in time to see Charles reeling his fist back.

You don’t think you’ll ever forget the sound of a nose breaking under a fist. Of course, it’s quiet so that probably helped a lot.

They’re screaming at each other and your brain, once again, tunes it out. You stare blankly ahead, trying to make sense of whatever the fuck you just saw. You’re pretty sure Charles’ girlfriend flees. Probably for the best. Logan swings a tanned hand in front of your eyes and suddenly the volume in the room is back once again, the screaming slowly filtering into your head.

“What the fuck is your problem?” Charles yells, blood dripping down his arm as he shoves Max in the middle of his chest.

“What’s my problem!? What’s your problem!? You’re already fucking my girlfriend, I was just evening the score,” Max spits, blood splattering against Charles’ white shirt as he shoves the man’s wrist away.

“What are you talking about? I didn’t do shit, man!”

“You proved it by showing up with her,” Logan inches forward as Max’s eyes land on you for the first time that night, seemingly ready to defend your honor. Or whatever.

“Taking her to help her find her boyfriend who turned out to be cheating on her with my girlfriend. Yeah seems really romantic mate,” Charles rolls his eyes. You can tell from his stance he’s ready to throw another punch in a heartbeat.

“Fuck you, Charles.”

“Fuck you, Max.”

There it is, the second punch flies and the two start to brawl. Rich idiot brawling, of course, no real form or anything. You reckon Max could throw a pretty good punch if he was in a better state. In the moment you’re just glad he isn’t. For Charles’ sake.

You suddenly realize that the area might not have been as secluded as you had thought. When you glance up you’re met by the literal strip, bright lights streaming in from the outside. Even at the ripe hour of 3 am. People start to gather at the commotion. Usually you’d care a lot about this kind of stuff but your brain is unfortunately too preoccupied to care.

One of these people that takes it upon themselves to insert themselves in the fight is none other than Checo Perez. The man on the grid who you could stand the least. Or at least he used to have that title, that might belong to Max now.

Upon the sound of more yelling, you tune him out. Daniel’s the one who moves in his path, causing the man to turn the argument onto Daniel. 5 foot 10 Daniel who’s been itching to throw a punch since this fight started. Daniel who was, until quite recently, black out drunk. Daniel who you knew, deep down, didn’t want to punch Max so this was a perfect solution.

You don’t end up remembering how it happens, your brain fogged with alcohol and emotions but one second, Checo and Danny are arguing and the next second, Logan’s landed a punch.

Honestly, he has a killer right hook. Especially for a drunk man. This spurs another fight and you can’t do anything but stand still in the middle of it all, tear stains running down your cheeks and high-heels clutched tightly in your arms.

It feels like an eternity later, but what probably only 5 minutes, when a figure comes up behind you and wraps an arms around your shoulders. You glance up to see a wild Oscar, pulling you away from the scene. He drops your shoulder to move back and pull Logan out of the fight, now with a bloody nose and bruised knuckles. You’re not sure how much fighting he did and how much of it was just him hitting random surfaces. Again, drunk.

You turn toward Charles and see a now unoccupied Checo walking with an arm around Max’s shoulder and a now quite sober Lando pulling Charles the other way. Danny’s made his own way out of the area, quickly pulling you away with him. You don’t argue as he does, grateful for the escape. Sound comes back to you as you re-enter the casino floor, slot machines and black-jack spread out around you.

You realize how crazy you all probably look, all six of you covered in blood in some way. Whether it be your own or a friends. You all stagger out of the hotel quickly and at some point, you lose Charles and now it’s just you, Daniel and Logan, just like how you had started the night.

Once the air hits your face you realize the reality of everything that’s just happened. Your three year relationship was now over. Your teammate and boyfriend just cheated on you. This had to be some sort of HR violation.

For the first time since you entered the quiet area, you feel yourself cry. Tears run down your cheeks as sobs rack your body. Logan is quick to get you somewhere to sit down and he lays an arm around your shoulder comfortingly, not even thinking about the fact he’s now smearing even more blood on your clothes. You get distracted form your crying when you glance up and see the blood streaming from his nose. If you could help it, you’d get his name the farthest away from this. He didn’t need this right now.

For a moment you’re too worried about Logan’s future to cry but then you glance back down at the blood on your own hands and the waterworks start again. You, of course, hadn’t punched anyone but the blood was a reminder that somebody had because of you.

You eventually get the sobs to go away, standing up with a slight wobble, leaning on Daniel as he catches you.

You have no idea where the rest of your friend had gone or even where you were gonna sleep tonight. So you text the one person you had complete faith in during this situation.

“Can I stay with you?”

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[cheriladycl01]

All to avoid you - George Russell x AstonMartinDriver! Reader

Plot: George crashes on the last lap of the Aussie 24 Grand Prix landing himself in the middle of the road. She wasn't far behind and the yellow flag didn't come out in time, her engineer not communicating to her makes her forcefully crash herself out.

A/N: This whole race from start to finish was absolutely wild. Well done to all the drivers that were able to keep George safe while he was in this tricky position! However, this is just a work of fiction what is here!

It was the last lap of the Australian Grand Prix and you'd just overtaken Lance your team-mate, you knew you were gaining on George and you hoped that you could push a little harder.

But George having broke early to avoid hitting Fernando landed his car in the middle of the road, still inside it. And where you were gaining on him the time between him crashing and rolling into the middle of the road and the yellow flag coming up wasn't enough time for you to safely slow your car down. You had seen his car before your engineer and the yellow flag came up.

You swerved to avoid the car, knowing it was fresh and that George would still have been in there. The debris from the wreck rolled under your car and came for the floor meaning you also spun out from the harsh breaking.

"George in the middle-" you hear before the radio cuts out and your car is flipped over.

"And I don't think that yellow flag was called quick enough that is Y/N Y/L/N also out of the race with a nasty crash now just ahead of Russell on the crash and it looks like, her car has fully flipped over!" the commentator adds, looking at the Aston Martin now on it's roof.

"And it doesn't look like she's coming through on radio either..." another commentator adds.

"Y/N can you hear me?" comes through your radio.

"Y-Yeah" you gasp out clutching your chest that felt heavy.

"What happened?" you asked.

"I'm sorry! His crash wasn't called out quick enough and there wasn't a yellow flag by the time you reached him. It happened so quick!" he explains and you nod.

"And is Lance okay, he wasn't too far behind me!" you ask worried about your teammate and the driver in the middle of the road.

"Medical car has stopped for George, they are coming for you as well, just hold on. Lance is okay. His engineer called it quick enough to slow him down. He's asking about you!" he explains and you try to slip out from the car.

You take the wheel and just it out the other side of the halo so its on the grass before you attempt to crawl your way out. A hand comes down and a marshal is there reaching out to help pull you out.

You managed to get out the car with a twist and shimmy, standing up and brushing the dust off you and taking your helmet off and holding it in one hand at the side.

The marshal hands you the wheel before asking if you were okay to get yourself to the car yourself.

"Yeah, I'm all good thank you for helping me out!" you smile and nod before making sure it's safe to jog over to where the safety car has parked up near both the wrecks.

You jump in the back sitting next to George.

"You okay?" you ask and he looks at you with a face like thunder.

"Alright, before you throw a hissy fit and yell at me, check my on-board before you get back. There was no flag and no radio from my engineer until I had already swerved around you to avoid you. So before you run your mouth check!" you huff annoyed with him before looking out the tinted window as the car drives the pair of you away.

"I'm sorry, I'm just angry my race was ruined" he sighs and looks over at you, you arent looking back at him. You refuse to give him that satisfaction.

"I am too...if i kept going at the speed I was I would have passed you and now I have no points for the team. Fuck Lawrence isn't going to be happy" you say.

"I mean, the crash wasn't your fault. It was your engineer and the FIA for not calling the flag quicker!" he offers and you nod, knowing it wasn't but a man like Lawrence, he had it out for you constantly, especially when you performed better than his son.

"He'll find a way to make it my fault unfortunately!" you sign and George looks over at you.

"Why do you stand for that?" he asks seriously.

"Well, right now I don't see any better options" you sigh knowing you'd struggled getting a seat in F1 and right now Lawrence was the only person willing to take the risk by accepting you.

The risk working in his favour as more feminine brands were looking to offer up sponsorships for the team having a female driver in the seat.

"I mean, this year is the year to change if your going to. So many seats are free" he says trying to sound positive but you knew you'd have to graft hard if you wanted to change team.

"Mmmmmm, we'll see" you say.

"I'm sorry, for you know yelling at you the minute you jumped out the car.

"I know it's okay... i get that you are mad!" you sigh looking over to him and smiling, a genuine look passed between the two of you, knowing it was just racing at the end of the day.

And when you were both asked by interviewers who you thought was to blame you both said that it just happened to be an incident in the line of racing... both having some of the calmest interviews despite what happened on track.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul l @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v

[prettyflyshyguy]

Con Recap!

Another quick break from Murderbot posting to talk about OZ Comic Con Melbourne - of which I was there for half of Saturday but I had a lot of fun! If you make it to the end of this post there's a surprise (and some pics of my artist alley haul)

I wasn't tabling this one sadly so I went as a normal attendee (which is rare for me, these days?) I started the day off exhausted from not enough sleep with all my shit stuffed into my bag because I was too scared to cosplay on the train into the CBD lol (I went as an SCP Foundation Scientist)

I'm am absolutely in the background of some rando's tik tok live doing my best Murderbot itself impression (it was a pair of them and they would not stop screaming, and occasionally yelling "THANK YOU FOR THE ROSE")

I mostly hung out with a bunch of SCP foundation cosplayers and we went and bought some goodies from the LivingLewd booth (it's a local brand which is cool!) and wandered around together. Saw some cosplay mutuals I hadn't seen since a few events ago, it was really lovely catching up! It's always wild when I see people in full MTF tac gear wearing something I've made ;_;

The Anime Girl sticker I got is huge (it's a great car window decal) but I'm not sure if I'm bold enough to put it on my actual car. I'm tempted though. Won't lie.

While I was waiting around outside as lunch plans were being organised (and I was zoning out feeling intimidated by the crowds) one of the friends of the SCP group turned and stared at me dead on and told me she thought I was pretty.

I inflicted mass psychic damage on the SCP Cosplay community (and friends) who are all gen z, when they found how old I was (I am a millennial-z cusper).

One asked my age, I told the group to guess. One got it right, I pointed at him, his jaw dropped and he said "IT WAS A JOKE!" everyone looked at me like I'd just told them I'd killed a man (none of them believed me, apparently I look younger) We were in the middle of Maccas at the time. They were all very loud (and demanded proof lol)

While we were just hanging out, discussing a sign relating to cosplay courtesy, some weird old woman came and took a photo of us, got angry when we said "hey you didn't ask?" and told us "you didn't even smile in the photo" which was like, prophetic timing. We all had a sensible chuckle about how the universe manifested us a living example of what not to do.

I then split to go speedrun the artist alley cause I was running out of time, and very luckily ran into two friends I was hoping to find. One was cosplaying Ghost (CoD) and the other was Biker (Hotline Miami) and we were stopped every 2 meters because someone wanted a photo of Ghost and it was fucking awesome. We kept joking about how far we'd get before we were stopped again. It was like clockwork.

I visited the table of an artist I deeply admire and when they saw me they said "It's you! the CEO of SCP!" and I was like haha yes I'm in scientist/site manager cosplay then they told me they loved my art and I was like W H A T

Screaming, crying, throwing up over the fact I'm now a minor list celebrity in the Australian artist alley as that one SCP person.

I visited a bunch of friends, had some lovely (but sadly brief) chats with peers and got some sweet goodies.

From @gritrook I missed out on a hot ticket item (an incredible Cad Bane zine) but I got there in time to snag this delightful zine that's chockers full of fantastic sketches - if you love monsters and you're not following her what are you DOING - get on it! So much more cool stuff is coming from her.

From hommie_ya I got one of the most unique charms I've ever picked up - made out of a real minidisk and I'm OBSESSED. It's so pretty and iridescent in real life. Photos do not do this justice. Each one is unique and it's such a creative idea.

I can thank ShadowRealmCo for my Site Manager badge and I grabbed one of her new magnets, she sent me a sneak peak of these bad boys and I'm so happy to say I helped inspire its creation! Next time I'm gonna have to go after all the new Resident Evil stuff she's doing because it's SO GOOD!

From my home-city legend DanielAngArt I got this gorgeous print I've been eyeing off and this perfect sticker. The phonebooth reference is from somewhere in Freo, back in WA and knowing that made this all the sweeter to me. It'd been far too long since I last saw him so I was SO grateful to get to catch up. What a bloody legend. It's nice to have a sort of piece of home with me here.

From minute_sarah I grabbed a humble haul of things I've been plotting to grab, including one of her new chao mystery boxes and god I'm so happy with the one I got! She's a fellow Sonic Adventure 2 enjoyer and her work is stunning. I'm gonna have to go for the whole chao collection now.

Last but certainly in no way least, this one's actually a gift from a cosplay mutual and friend herb_cooker_ and I'm not sure what I've done to deserve this thoughtfulness and kindness but I'm obsessed with this - it's glittery and the weird orbs in it look like eyeballs and when they said "I tried to find something that's your thing" I went ballistic when they handed me THIS. Like holy shit yes, thank you, it's perfect.

To cap it all off, here's the surprise, a rare but fun piece of photographic evidence. Pics or it didn't happen. riotvvitch found me in front of a friends table and we started excitedly yelling at each other, the vibes were immaculate. Look how much fun we're both having. (Massive thank you to Shaymonade for taking the photo, I don't get enough photos of myself at events)

Bonus (I don't know what this means but it has 173 in it. So.)

I swear I was just pulling that face for the photo op - character commitment. Dr. Sattler is a pissed off middle manager. Shy is just pissed off, no longer working in middle management.

I had a lot of fun, holy shit. It really reinvigorated me and I was devastated I didn't make more time to hang out with people more. It was so refreshing and I walked away with such a full heart, everyone I spoke to was so kind and so lovely and I don't know how I've gotten this lucky to be able to call so many incredible people my friends.

I'm so hyped for the next event, and I'm fired up to maybe dabble in some more serious cosplays too eventually.

I've been in a slump lately, but man, this was good for my brain.

[trina-makes-an-entrance]

My 2025 Eurovision BMC headcanons and what song do I think the BMC characters would like:

Christine: Hardcore fan. She's definitely in love with Remember Monday - What The Hell Just Happened. The harmonies, the schuyler sisters coded dresses, the fallen chandelier, IT'S SO THEATER KID CODED, OF COURSE SHE LOVES IT!!! I think she loves Eurovision, even tho she has assumed that the whole competition is super rigged. I feel like she probably would only watch the performances and just turn off the TV when the voting begins just so she doesn't get depressed. She goes like "Well, that was rad, can't wait for next year :)" and calls it a day.

Jenna: Personally, I headcanon her as half Spanish (bc I'm Spanish and I like projecting, okay???), but she's super cynical about Eurovision because after seeing Spain perform for a couple of years and getting just a few pity points, you kind of just- lose hope?? She's a reaaaally casual watcher, but really liked Serving. She defo cheered a bit for Melody, but was rooting for Malta, I just know.

Michael: Doesn't care for Eurovision AT ALL, but Jeremy and Christine make him watch it with them. He prolly likes the goofiest songs, that's why I think he loved Esspreso Macchiato, because "ain't no way they let that dude in" and "holy crap what the fuck is that plane doing?". He definitely got the song stuck in his head for hours.

Brooke: I just know she was rooting for Luxembourg. The doll-like aesthetic, the vocals, she's a super fan and throws a Europarty every year with her family. To me she's half Greek (although she's usually really imparcial), and their parents started the tradition of watching Eurovision back when she was a little kid. They decor their living room, get snacks, they even have little whiteboards where they write the points they give to each country after every performance. She was so so mad about Luxembourg placing so low.

Chloe: Didn't really care for Eurovision at first, tho Brooke usually invented her to her Europarty. After a couple of years, she started enjoying it more. She probably loved Esa Diva. She loves to judge the staging and the outfits, and that's probably the only reason she watches Eurovision. She gets a bit mad over the ranking, but would identify herself as a casual enjoyer.

Jake: I headcanon him as half Australian and my boy was DEVASTATED when Milkshake Man didn't get to the final. Just like Brooke, he's an Eurofan — the kind of person who listen to the songs weeks before the final and stalks the singers in social media. I feel he'd root for many countries and probably likes La Poupée Monte Le Son, What The Hell Just Happened?, C'est La Vie and Esa Diva. He's really versatile, I just know.

Jeremy: Between fan and causal watcher, but gets really angry and outraged about the votes, to me he's half German and quite biased, so I feel he really liked Baller. But he's a sucker for a pretty voice singing a ballad (I'M NOT PROJECTING, YOU ARE PROJECTING), so he cried liked a baby to Voyage, by Switzerland. He doesn't even know what the hell Zoe's saying, he just likes it that much. He also likes Lighter and Survivor (he's not beating the bisexual allegations).

Rich: Started watching Eurovision once he made friends with Brooke and Jake. He roots for the chaos and prefers to not listen to the songs before the final so he can be surprised easier. He loves Bara Bada Bastu and Tutta L'Italia. He ebjoyes judging the performances and doesn't filter his reactions at all.

I feel like after the Squip, they'd all watch Eurovision together — you have the fans who yell at the tv when the televote fucks everything up (Brooke and Jeremy), the fans who accept the show for what it is (Christine and Jake), the casual enjoyeres who love talking shit and judging the performances (Chloe and Rich), and the cynical watchers who couldn't care less but their friends make them watch it (Michael and Jenna).

[captain-pheonix]

Blu scout and red sniper getting into a fight on the battlefield, but its just insanely homosexual?

A/N: Yes!!! Thank you sending this in 🤣 also sorry it took so long life has been busy plus I got a million bouts of writers block trying to finish this 😞

Caught ya.

Sniperscout/speeding bullet Oneshot (Scout x Sniper)

Warnings: Maybe a teeny eeny bit suggestive? Blood, knives, death before respawn, yelling if that’s triggering, Scout and Sniper beating each other up

Sniper could hear bullets firing and loud screams from every direction. He had just respawned from the other Soldier killing him for the fourth time. He seemed to have been getting targeted recently.

“Bugger.” He grumbled under his breath. He stepped out of spawn and he heard calls for help coming from the right of him. Sniper ran and started fumbling down the staircase to intel as fast as he could. He lifted his rifle to his face and looked out the scope rounding the corner, but his field of view was instantly splattered with red. He could hear blood-curdling screams of pain and familiar laughter. Sniper froze up. The Scout had been cackling like a hyena, dominating him at least once in every battle for the past week. What did he find so funny? Whatever the reason for this sudden interest, Sniper wanted to know before he personally assassinated him when the battle was over.

The Australian threw his gun to the ground, but he couldn’t manage to get his Kukri before the Scout knocked him hard against the back wall, aiming straight at his head.

“Ha. Maybe I should be your new Sniper. Your aim is TERRIBLE!” The Scout chuckled, then everything faded to black.

The familiar clicking noise, and Sniper was thrown back into spawn once again. He had to come up with a strategy, or nothing would get done this battle.

He began thinking before leaving spawn. The administrator sounded over the speakers: “Your intelligence has been dropped.” Sniper knew one thing: the Scout was going to come back to get the case when he respawned. If he could ambush him before he got there, he might have a chance.

Sniper headed to the intel room and waited around the corner.

Some time had passed and he was starting to wonder if he should just give up sitting there. Then, he heard the fast pattering of footsteps echo through the rock and concrete walls.

Sniper pounced at the Scout’s legs as soon as he rounded the corner, intel falling off his back and knocking them both to the cold floor.

“CAUGHT YA, YA LIL’ PRUDE!” Sniper shouted aggressively. He looked at the scout squirm for a moment caught under his grip like a wild animal. Then he just stopped.

“Fine, hot stuff, you win.” The Bostonian looked at Sniper and made eye contact. His face had a cheeky and sly expression on it, despite him being extremely red in the face. Was that just Exertion? What was going on? It seemed like he wanted to be caught.

“What’d’ya want from me!?” Sniper asked him. “Because I’m gonna—“ Scout cut him off with a sharp blow to the face. Sniper was knocked into the ground in pain, and Scout was kneeling over him, giving him several more weaker punches. His blue shirt getting slowly more painted in Sniper’s blood.

Sniper snatched his Kukri and slashed it across the BLU Scout’s face. He let out a high pitched yell, and Sniper took the chance to push him into the wall, pinning the smaller man down again.

Scout opened his eyes to find Sniper’s sweltering angry face, which he only smiled back at.

“Oh, you’re smilin’ now? Think that’s funny?” Sniper muttered.

“Nope. I think it’s super terrifying…in a hot way.”

“WHAT!? WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?”

Scout managed to shimmy his hand out of Sniper’s, and he brushed it under his chin before kangaroo punching the Australian down to the ground with his leg. Now it was Scout’s turn to pin him down. His Kukri was just out of reach, but it didn’t stop Sniper from trying to grab it.

“Quit wigglin’, already.” Scout smiled down at him.

“Agh. You bloody—“ Sniper was cut off by Scout leaning down to kiss him on the cheek.

“Been trying ‘ta get your attention all week. Don’t lie, I’ve seen how you look when you’re about to shoot me. You get all red and you have a hard time aiming for me? Sound familiar?”

Sniper broke eye contact, embarrassed.

“An’ when my other teammates a’ there, you always go for them first. I’ve noticed a little pattern with you, Snipes.”

Sniper was dead silent. Now it was his turn to become beat red. “…fine. Maybe I don’t wanna shoot someone who isn’t as much of a maniac as everyone else in this dump.”

“When we met at the bar, I might’ve got a tiny hallway crush too…” Scout looked at him, confident but red enough to explode.

Sniper pulled him into a kiss. Something Sniper could’ve only dreamed of. He reached up to hold his waist. Scout’s hand drifted up to rest on Sniper’s face.

A gunshot shot out one of the security cameras from their right, breaking the kiss.

One of the team’s spies re-cloaked and ran out of the room.

————————

Haha hopefully that was gay enough. I do in fact love writing gay little men. Thanks for sending this in! 😂 and thanks for reading, dear viewer!

[luckystar2025]

Konata: (snickering) "Oh man… Furious Bob the Builder is wild."

Tsukasa: (curious) "Furious… Bob the Builder?"

Konata: "Yeah, it’s like, Bob the Builder, but if he was an alcoholic who swears at people, and went on murderous rampages. Total menace."

Kagami: (flatly) "So… not Bob the Builder at all."

Konata: "Oh no, he still builds things. He just destroys people while building them."

Tsukasa: (gasps) "That sounds scary! Why would they make that?"

Miyuki: (adjusting glasses) "Oh, they didn’t. Furious Bob the Builder isn’t an official character. He was accidentally referenced by AI models that misinterpreted fanfiction and fan-made wikis as factual information."

Kagami: (raising an eyebrow) "Wait, so search engines just made up some murderous alternate version of Bob the Builder because the internet was being weird?"

Miyuki: (nodding) "Essentially. AI models don’t have a strong distinction between official sources and user-generated content. If enough people reference something, even jokingly, it can be mistakenly recorded as real."

Tsukasa: (nervous) "So… if we all started talking about, like, Angry Dora the Explorer, would she become real too?"

Konata: (excited) "Ohhh, I love this idea! Evil Dora who hates maps and just yells at Boots the whole time? ‘Can we find the river? No?! Well, too bad, idiot!’"

Kagami: (pinching the bridge of her nose) "I cannot believe we live in a world where people are getting Mandela Effect-ed into thinking an angry Australian Bob the Builder is canon."

Konata: (grinning) "Hey, I think he should be! ‘Oi, Slob the Builder! I’m gonna crack open a VB and demolish your whole [bleep] construction site, ya wanker!’"

Tsukasa: (whispering) "This is kind of scary…"

Miyuki: "It does raise questions about the reliability of information online. As AI models continue to evolve, distinguishing between fact and fiction will become even more difficult."

Kagami: "So basically, we’re doomed to a future where people genuinely believe Furious Bob the Builder was a lost episode?"

Konata: (leaning back, smug) "And I, for one, welcome our new AI-generated headcanons."

[gravitytrips]

Chapter 6: The More, the Merrier

Once Medic had been uncuffed from the chair and Scout had been unstrapped, both were unceremoniously seized and lead away.

Scout’s body felt like tenderized meat. Every touch felt like a jab. Still, he walked on. Something felt…..missing from his legs.

The next step Scout took became a stumble.

The soldiers caught him and simply dragged him the rest of the way.

The two men were dumped into their room, the door sealing behind them. Medic immediately gave Scout a check over.

“Are you alright?” Medic inquired, concerned about the boy’s collapse in the hall.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I think there’s something wrong with my legs, though.” Scout replied, pulling his legs from underneath him.

“Let me see zhem.” Medic said, adjusting his glasses.

Medic was rolling up the pant leg of the black uniform when he suddenly heard shouting coming from the hall. The shouts morphed into swears the closer the person yelling them got.

They were lewd.

The voice was low.

Australian.

Medic and Scout, who had been looking towards to door, turned their heads and locked eyes.

“Bet it’s the RED one.” Medic said.

“Bet it’s BLU.” Said Scout, a spark of humor in his eyes.

Both grinned.

A scuffle was heard right across the hall. Scout and Medic were looking towards the door again, as if they could see through the solid metal.

Medic stood, wiggling the slide over the window slot over enough to see out. A flash of bright blue was seen between the black uniforms.

Medic turned back to Scout.

“Looks like you won. Zhat vas my Sniper all right.” Medic said, a bit of fear in his eyes. 

Even though the interrogator that had nearly killed Scout had gotten in trouble for brutalizing the boy, Medic still harbored the fear that it would happen again. What made it worse was that this time, it would be someone he knew personally.

Later, the guards returned. The BLU Sniper was dragged to a small room with only one chair in the center. Sniper was tied to it, much to his protest.

Sniper hated this. Here he was, trying to rescue his friend, and now he’s getting interrogated. Stupid.

Sniper’s thoughts of discontent were quickly interrupted by a man in what appeared to be a beekeeper’s suit. He looked ridiculous.

Sniper laughed.

“You gonna torture me with your ridiculous outfit, ya wanka?” Sniper said between snickers.

The man replied.

“We’ve been experimenting with more…organic ways of making people talk.”

The man pulled out a jar. An angry insect buzzed inside.

“You know what this is, mercenary?”

Sniper did know, and just the sight of it made him go pale.

Flitting around the inside of the jar was an Executioner Wasp.

@aerowolf

[a-case-of-the-ace]

Another day, another wonderful australian tv show without a lick of fanfic to its name. So, in desperation, may I recommend:

Crazy Fun Park. A bunch of child ghosts haunt an abandoned theme park, the newest is our protagonist's best friend. Friendship angst and tragic creepy backstories abound, with a trans character and a grumpy lost-boys knockoff who only wants to help his sister.

Sweet, a bit corny but overall real good. I loved all the side characters backgrounds and overall growth. On ABC Iview (it's free!)

Irreverent. All I found (last I checked) on this were 3 shirtless gifs of the same scene. Worth it though, main character is HOT.

Basically, an american mafia diplomat pisses off his mafia, so he nicks a hundred grand and runs for the first flight he can catch. While making his escape, he meets a depressed reverend and tells him to ignore god and seize his own destiny. Said reverend therefore nicks all his stuff. Mafia man can do nothing but go to the reverend's posting in rural Queensland, and deal with both australians and improv-ing his way through religion. Plus a lot of sexual tension with the local police officer. (She's so cool!)

Incredibly funny, absolutely side-splitting, featuring angry routinely yelling at a man in sandals and hawaiian shirts. I also love how, when he gives his sermons/weddings/funeral services/etc he focuses on the message within the bible as opposed to "this exact line said this so you better do it." My favourite of the three, and I will be writing for it once my wips are defeated. On Netflix.

Ladies in Black (the 2024 show). Set in the sixties, focuses on the ladies and men of a fancy fashion store. Lots of characters of different races, and women trying to get ahead under the patriarchy, all chasing their dreams.

I yell at the tv a lot in this, because of dodgy men doing dodgy things. The main reason I long for more people to get into this is because I ship two of the main characters. Possibly the first w/w ship to truly overtake my brain. They both have good backstories, back each other up, and both try to help their families. And yes, they could be good friends but if you say "if [male-love-interest] doesn't kiss you, I will," followed by giggling, hand in hand, what am I supposed to do? I don't control the brain, it controls me. I haven't actually finished this yet, but I recommend it highly anyway.

The soundtrack is lovely, using period-typical music as well as non-diegetic modern songs. The look of the sets, the fashion, it's all so beautiful and stylish. And that's coming from someone who dresses like a divorced trucker. Also on ABC Iview.

If anyone knows of these, likes these, wants to discuss these, please talk to me. My brain will overheat for sure, otherwise.

[pomyred]

(Robertson-Swann 1980)

860 words

Yellow Peril

There has always been something about yellow that resonates with me. It was the colour in the box of crayons that I’d pick first and mum would say, “lots of yellow Karen.” I can remember the first new car my Dad bought, it was a Datsun 200B. He wanted the blue at first, but the salesman said he’d have to wait a few weeks but the yellow was available immediately, so Dad bought it. Dad loved that car, though people would say “but it’s yellow!” (Robertson 2024). In the late 70s a yellow car was an odd choice for a man in a society where real men smoked a packet a day and drove Holdens or Fords and Japanese Cars still smelt of war crimes. Melbourne was however heading into the 80s and a piece of public art as bright as morning sun glared into the greyness and dared us to change. (Australian Centre for Contemporary Art, 2021)

Back then Melbourne was a place that you travelled to for work by train, and at the end of the day, travelled back home by train. This was a time when Spencer St station had beige coloured tiles punctuated by the occasional DO NOT SPIT tile which as a child had me watching for spitters, though I never saw one. Bag ladies would wander through with shopping trolleys bursting with belongings and as I grew older, I realised they weren’t going to catch a train. People spent their lives rushing for trains, looking at their watches and running to opposite platforms in the hope of saving 5 minutes. At East Richmond station there was a large graffiti that said, HA HA HURRY YOUR LATE and as I gazed from the carriage I wondered if other people somewhere, were having more fun.

(Brown 2018)

Melbourne was drab, lots of grey buildings, lots of grey suits and men raised not to know any better would spend their working lives oblivious to the asbestos in the walls and the ashtrays full of dying butts on their desks. Fumes from photocopying machines would fill the air and windows were for lighting not breathing. After the workers disappeared the city was a barren landscape, and you could wander without seeing a soul and ponder the nature of existence whilst staring into empty streets. As a teenager the only thing to do was to see a new movie at Hoyt’s Mid City cinema, stare at boys in the foyer and gorge ourselves at the newly opened Pancake Parlour. I can remember my parents taking us to an art film and watching people walking out and a man yelling “pseudo artistic bullshit.” Art was flowing landscapes in muted colours that offended no one and idealised our country life as somehow similar to England, even though we all knew there was lies hidden in those sweeping plains. We were surrounded by statues of English gentry on horseback in frozen gallops leaping from the entrances of civic buildings in various shades of grey.

So what is it about yellow? In nature yellow stripes on the backs of bees signal a warning to us not to touch. Yellow flowers make us think of young love sitting in a meadow. Yellow is a symbol of joy and energy, it’s the colour I’d rather be, a person who doesn’t notice the grey, or at least not so much of it. Melbourne CBD in the 1970s was a workplace and the working class worked. There was little time for frivolity, and colour, especially dour colours, symbolised an unconscious oppression and a regimented workplace. There was nothing but the chill of a never ending winter of conformity. So they put the yellow sculpture in the heart of the city and our hearts moaned with an existential rage so fierce it revealed how effective our imprisonment to the workplace had become (museumoflost 2023). We circled the sculpture like an angry mob of mindless subjects imprisoned in homes with beige painted walls and houses with cream brick veneer and architecture whose invisibility was so comforting we could walk past without a glance. Sunday church was full of warnings about Yoga and the Devil, resisting dog ownership and our responsibility to pay the Tithe which had priests bellowing from the pulpits with an enthusiasm that made their eyes pop and their cheeks burst and Dad would tell us, “I think he’s been tucking into the blood of Christ again”. Yellow made our souls stir, it was that colour I picked from my crayon box that was fun and childish. It was my fathers yellow 200B (a Jap car) that was thumbing its nose at the men who drove the Fords and Holdens as dad waited at the lights and took off with his automatic transmission whilst the ‘He Men’ strained over their clunking gears. It was going to the National Gallery for the Picasso Exhibition to see the Weeping Woman and hearing my Nana wearing an old dead fox on her shoulders and batwing glasses say, “I like the frame.” It was teenagers playing electric guitar at the school eisteddfod and watching parents lead their children out in outrage. Yellow reminds us of something seen but not remembered. (Coleman 2019)

Author’s note

My story is about the way a public sculpture was received by Victorians when it was revealed in the 1980s. Vault was dubbed “Yellow Peril” by the media, and it has been known by this since the early days. It was removed to a more suitable location away from the City Square because it was viewed as unsuitable i.e. it was unpopular / hated. This name calling suggests how xenophobic society was in the 1970s and early 80s. I’ve used the sculpture and its colour as a memory cue, an attempt to take the reader back to my life as a teenager.

REFERENCES

Australian centre for Contemporary Art, (2021). Vault,

https://www.atlasobscura.com/places/vault-aka-the-yellow-peril

Brown, L. (2018). ‘Do not spit' signs at Flinders St Station to survive $100 million new-millennium makeover. https://www.abc.net.au/news/2018-02-20/do-not-spit-signs-to-stay-at-flinders-st-station/9461510

Coleman, C. (2019). Boodjar ngan djoorla: Country, my bones. https://search.informit.org/doi/10.3316/informit.186316784427328

Robertson, R. (2024). PWP210 Narrative Nonfiction - PWP210 (OpenUnis SP 1)

Curtin OUA / Writing about art (week 3)

https://www.open.edu.au/

Robertson- Swann, R. (1980). Vault . Painted Steel Dimensions (H x W x D)

615 x 1184 x 1003 cm. Reproduced from https://citycollection.melbourne.vic.gov.au/vault/

The museum of lost things. (2024). The Great Vault Sculpture Controversy, https://www.museumoflost.com/the-great-vault-sculpture-controversy/

[toasted-frootloops]

Eyes For the Skies ~ Chapter 5 - Night Breather

Benny rests at his desk and tinkers on a special project, a faint lamp lighting up the space around the desk. He sits back and stretches, groaning as he look up a the clock hanging on the wall in the garage. Eleven o' clock. Benny sighs and stands up from his chair, stretching more and groaning softly. He stood there for a moment, trying to figure out something to keep him occupied before he got tired. He grabs his jacket and heads towards the door, leaving the garage and walking to the outside. He takes in a long breath of fresh air, the light cool wind on his skin made him shiver a little. As he relaxes and walks around a little, a strange, strong scent catches him off-guard. Benny crinkles his nose as a strong smell of nicotine hits him, causing him to look around to find the source.

He walks for a little while longer and spots a smoke trail, smelling more of the nicotine. Benny follows it for a while before stopping, seeing Sniper leaning against the wall of the building. Benny gulps and walks over slowly, trying not to surprise him. Sniper was smoking a cigarette, exhaling the smoke into the night air. Benny walks up closer and puts on a light smile, Sniper peering over as he sees the young man.

Benny: H-Hi. I wasn't expecting to see anyone else awake this late.

Sniper: I don't sleep a lot.

Benny: Oh, well I hope you don't mind me giving you some company for a while. I, uh, couldn't sleep either.

Benny grins at the Australian man, him rolling his eyes and taking another breath of his cigarette. The Pilot frowns slightly and looks over at Sniper, Benny nervously rubbing his shoulder as he looks up at the uninterested man.

Benny: I want to apologise for what happened yesterday.

Sniper: It's fine.

Benny: N-No I shouldn't have let myself get so wasted and I should've kept that stuff to myself.

Sniper: I said it's fine.

Benny: Are you sure? I-

Sniper growls and glares at Benny, his body tensing up and freezing as he stares at Sniper.

Sniper: I said it's alright, you don't need to keep talking about it. You said some stuff and that's it. Just quit apologizing.

Sniper goes back to focusing on his cigarette, taking another puff as Benny stutters over himself.

Benny: Sorry, Sniper. I'm not trying to upset you or make you angry at me. I just want to say sorry.

Sniper: You've said it, so stop apologizing.

Benny: I-I'm sorry, I just...

As the Pilot stutters over himself, Sniper growls softly under his breath. He drops his cigarette on the ground and stomps it out, looking at over at the worried Pilot. Sniper then growls and grabs Benny's shoulders, pushing him against the building's wall. Benny yelps and shuts up, looking up at the annoyed Australian man, seeing him grit his teeth and snarl quietly.

Sniper: Listen here, I've told you already that it's fine. When I say it's fine, I mean it's fine. Now quit apologizing and lay off. Got it?

Benny: R-Right, I'm sorry, I-

Sniper: What did I just say?

Sniper gets more annoyed as he holds Benny's shoulder tighter, watching his face flush red as he keeps apologizing for apologizing so much. Sniper leans in close to his face, his body pressing against the young man's body as he squirms and blushes from this situation. As Sniper growls and gets ready to yell at him, he feels something poking against his thigh. He looks down to see a flustered and squeamish Pilot. Benny struggles a little more, Sniper feels the poking move a little against his thigh. Did he really get hard from getting pinned like this? Sniper was taken aback. He groans and lets go of Benny's shoulders. As Sniper steps back, he sees it better. Benny's slight bulge starting to tent in his pants. Sniper clears his throat and pulls his hat down, covering his face as he starts to walk away.

Sniper: It's late, you better head back in.

Benny gulps and nods, quickly rushing back towards the door he exited to go outside. Sniper watches Benny rush away in embarrassment, pulling his shirt over his crotch to hide how excited he had gotten. Sniper sighs and looks down, seeing his own tent forming in his pants from the interaction. The cute, innocent look on Benny's face when he got pinned, seeing how submissive he became. The knowledge that he got hard so easily. Sniper groans softly and feel his underwear start to get tighter at the thoughts running through his head.

Sniper: Bloody hell...

[alvasonguru]

CONFESSIONS OF AN ADVERTISING MAN: KENYA EDITION

Episode 1

Eight years ago, I had a moment of introspection and reflected on the journey of my career at that point in time:

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

So it’s been 20 years and and a month in the advertising business.

Some journey, its been.

I’ve faced danger, working for, and with, some really stupid people. And some joy. Working for, and with some very talented people. I’ve hit the high notes, and many, many low ones. I’ve been young, and now I’m old. Relatively.

I cursed tomorrow. And now its standing right in front of me. Staring back with an overgrown beard and uncombed hair skirting a balding pate, cheeks puffing out as if to say “Here we are, then.”

I’ve laughed more than I will ever remember. Like the night that Trevor Beattie awarded me the APA Craft Award for copywriting, making me the best advertising writer in the republic. And a little beyond it.

I’ve been angry. Very angry. Like the time my bogan Australian boss threatened to sack me for winning very many creative awards on that magical night fueled by Trevor Beattie. Tim Pearson scarred me for life. Or the night I got very, very upset with my inane, bad-English-speaking-Spanish-Brazilian Creative Director and yelled my lungs out at him. In Received Pronunciation English, recently acquired via a university degree in that language. With my Art Director, Timmy Ondeng, frozen in disbelief as I took my things home in a carton, singing the English football hooligans’ chant: “You’re getting sacked in the morning…sacked in the mooooorning, you’re getting sacked in the mooooorning…”

I learnt how to be a good Creative Director from Judy Kibinge. I learnt about good art direction from Maggie Owino. I learnt about leadership and managing clients from Ndirangu wa Maina. I travelled the world with Thierry Dubus, and picked up valuable lessons on Media Planning from Lenny Ng’ang’a. From Bipin Soni I learnt about the courage it took to hire a black, 29-year-old kid as Creative Director at a time when Creative Directors in Nairobi were invariably white and old. And mostly clueless. And from Zadock Koola, I learnt exactly how to crash-land your own agency and blow up the tiny fragments into oblivion. In dramatic slow motion.

And so I will scratch balding pate and try to figure out where these 20 years have gone. An eventful journey in its own right. I hope you will enjoy the recollections.

[raccoon-anarchy]

If I can make it through the weekend I am gonna live forever

[mew-sanctuary]

Least and 38? Also, are there any good shows you've been watching recently?

Ryo is definitely the least likely to sing!

As for shows, I don’t watch much TV anymore, and I don’t have access to any streaming services.

I’m still following the Owl House and Secret of Sulphur Springs, but both of those are currently on Hiatus.

I also enjoy shows called Mysteries of the Museum and Strangest Weather on Earth, but I can’t remember the last time I watched them.

Admittedly, I mostly just watch YouTube. False Swipe Gaming, Chuggaconroy, Mah-dry-bread, SciShow, ManDJTV, Moriah Elizabeth, Extra History, and a few others.

I tend to like art, Nintendo, history, and science. Though an angry Australian man yelling at mp3 players is so entertaining sometimes. DankPods (and the other channels from this creator) is a fun channel to watch.

[what-if-nct]

omg i made a story whilst i was drunk lol

—

jonghyun was a dumb man. he didn’t know what he wanted except for taemin. he was all he wanted. without him, he was nothing. he had devoted his life over his single boy that he simply cannot live without the boy. in fact, he wasn’t even a boy. this is just what jonghyun says whenever he thinks about him. he’s a weird one, but what can you say? it’s jonghyun after all.

this one convenient day, he decided to pop to the shops. he saw a pretty girl selling fish and chips. after thinking about it for a while, he decided to approach the small place.

“hello sir! welcome to the fish and chips shop! how may i help you?” she greeted jonghyun. he suddenly fell shy, and had a loss of words. he wanted to tell her how pretty she was, but he just couldn’t. instead, he bit his lip in embarrassment and played with his fingers for a bit.

“sir? are you ok?” she was starting to feel concerned for the young man. she felt like leaving her stall so she could physically check on him and possibly call an ambulance, but stood at her place thinking about her plans.

“sorry ma’am, i just wanted a chippy.” jonghyun exclaimed.

“sir, we are not australian.” she crossed her arms and annoyedly spoke to him. “please speak proper english.”

“mate, if you don’t give my chippy imma do a committee.” jonghyun angrily moaned until the mighty taemin came in to save the day.

“i’m sorry ma’am… he was asking for fish and chips.” taemin explained. this is why jonghyun loves taemin. he saves him during his most vulnerable moments. he was about to throw a fit, but not when taemin is around. he was his life saver.

“taeminnnnnn!” jonghyun whined. he loved him dearly. he gripped onto his shirt and relaxed on his little belly. the cute hyung then began to dance as he waits for his fish and chips to arrive. he sat on his seat and wouldn’t stop wiggling, even when he was told to by taemin himself.

“stop that hyung.” taemin sighed, he held a single lit cigarette in his hand. he was tired of being sober at that very point, but needed something to eat since he has been drinking. he couldn’t think straight. his vision was blurred and there’s was nothing but his boyfriend that was on his mind.

“taemin taemin taemin.” jonghyun went close to taemin’s face, making him feel his minty breath. “i know you’re smoking, taemin.”

jonghyun smiled at taemin and he about to get scared.

“hey! you’re making me uncomfortable!” taemin hid his face, making him seem invisible to the elder.

the two went to grab their fish and chips before sitting back down where they were at. they were peacefully eating their food when minho and sulli slammed into their table and began smooching passionately.

“ew guys! get a room!” taemin complained, holding his plate in the air.

“not in front of my fish and chips!” jonghyun cried before running to the men’s bathroom. taemin went to follow him, just for himself to get lost in his tracks. he was left to think in the mind of jonghyun and work out where he may go. after some thought, he decided to walk inside the men’s bathroom.

when he went inside, there were two more signs — male and female. feeling confused, he went to the male room.

when he came out, there were another two more signs — elamef and elam. he got super angry that he yelled for jonghyun, but with no avail. he really wanted to find his hyung, but it seems like it would be impossible. as he turned around to open the door he came out from, he saw another 2 signs which was the same as previous, male and female. he turned around again and faced the next 2 doors. him wanting to move towards, he went to the elam door.

when he came out, there were now 3 signs — taemin, mark and taeyeon. he has already been confused from the first pair of doors, so it made sense that it had became much worse.

a part of him wants to go to the taemin door since that was his hyung, but he was born in the same year as taeyeon. he doesn’t even know who mark is, so he just went to the taemin door.

at last, he finally sees sinks and toilets. he saw feet from under one of the stalls. as an attempt to find him, taemin sniffed the feet and sure enough it was indeed jonghyun.

“jonghyun! it’s me taemin!” he banged on the door, but only heard faint sobs.

“taemin? taemin!” he opened the door and grabbed onto taemin’s hoodie, raising him an inch from the ground.

“hyung! i’m so glad you’re here!” taemin smiled. it was a very weird day, but he was glad he was able to find his loving hyung.

maybe i need to drink more lol 💀

It's a wonderful story and very well written for you being drunk. How were you able to come up with something so coherent while drunk. Also this is just a reminder I really just kind of want to keep things Stray Kids and NCT. I know a lot of you like SHINee but it's just I want to kind of have some sense of cohesion so it's not so out of control. I'm sorry but you can always message my main blog it's @hyunjins-fat-gf

[glazesunflower]

One day, an Australian man was sitting in a clearing in the forest, banging cymbals and pots and pans and loudly singing off key. A local warlock was working nearby, and came out to confront the man. He tried to be nice at first.

“Hey, would you quiet down? I’m trying to cast spells”.

The man ignored the warlock, and kept banging on the cymbals and pots. The warlock grew angry.

“Quiet down or I’ll cast a spell on you!”

The man ignored him, and sang louder.

The Warlock snapped. “If you don’t stop that racket by the time I count to three, I’ll turn you into a Koala Bear and THEN you’ll be quiet!”

The man burst into a louder chorus still. The Warlock started to count.

“One!” The man banged the pots louder.

“Two!” The man started banging the pots on the cymbals.

“Three!” The Warlock raised his staff, shouted incantations to the sky, enveloped in a buzzing sphere of yellow light, hurling it towards the man and yelling “Now you are Koala!”

But the light dissipated as soon as it hit the man, and he kept on banging the cymbals and singing.

The Warlock shook his head. “That’s impossible! How did you not change?!”

The man looked over at the Warlock and shrugged. “It’s just like the last guy who wandered by said. I’m unbearable.”

-Yes

PLEASE. That was just an elaborate joke, I loved it 😭💛

[gravitytrips]

I like angst, so have this

Scout was always that annoying little crap head. He never shut up. He was full of himself. He was stupid. As much as the other mercs would never admit it, they liked having Scout around. He was a spark of vibrancy and joy in their dreary histories. Well, so was the Pyro, but he was a spark in a different way. The mercs liked having Scout around, even if it was just to get a laugh out of a stupid injury.

The base was quiet. A buzzing silence had fallen over the place.

Medic sat at his desk, absent-mindedly fiddling with a pencil. He was thinking. Scout had left three days ago for a so-called family reunion. He said he would be back by the next day. Medic knew a bit of Scout’s family history. The madman would never show it, but he was concerned.

Spy had left the day before, when Scout did not arrive at the planned time. He had boarded a plane and flown straight to Boston. When he showed up at Scout’s mother’s house, she looked happy to see him. Spy could have swept her into his arms and taken her on several dates, but he was on a mission. When Spy asked where Scout was, Ma said that he had left with his brothers. Spy didn’t even bother to get in his car. He ran.

Sniper had been sitting in one of his nests, just watching the desert day go by, when he saw a person limping through the desert. After a closer look through his scope, Sniper lept from his place and rushed downstairs.

Heavy had been sitting in the kitchen when he heard Sniper shout and run downstairs and out the door. He followed to see what had made the quiet Australian yell so loud.

Scout had been walking through the desert for two days. His face was cracked and sunburned. His body was bruised and bloody. He barely heard Sniper yelling at him as he and Heavy quickly approached. He didn’t feel himself getting picked up by Heavy and rushed inside. He didn’t see the snapping of Medic’s fingers in front of his face. If he had any water let in his body, he would have simply cried.

Scout’s brothers never saw it coming. They thought no one would care if they left the runt in the desert to die. They never expected to be picked off one by one. The first, mysteriously stabbed. The second, poisoned by a drunk man. The third, burned alive in a mysterious fire. The fourth, bludgeoned to death with a wrench. The fifth, blown up by a crazy homeless man with a rocket launcher. The sixth, a stray bullet from miles away. The final brother, the oldest, was not prepared to meet a large, angry Russian man in an alley. He tried to run, but was cut off by an insane-looking doctor. He wasn’t prepared to be beaten the way he had always beaten his littlest brother. He wasn’t prepared to have his head cut off and preserved. The seventh brother wasn’t prepared for the wrath of eight mercenaries that would never admit that they cared about his brother