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gollancz · 1 month ago

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Guys. Christmas is coming. Consumerism is in the driver's seat and GAWD don't I know about the existential ennui of all these faceless corporations trying to schill you their wares. It's cold. Impersonal. Bleak.

So I, a fellow tumblr user, will instead try to schill you MY wares, so that when you purchase these items you can say "Hey, that person from tumblr worked on this", and feel the warmth of HUMAN CONNECTION in a way that is completely normal and not parasocial at all. We really are friends. I promise. Yes, you. Love you, bestie. Remember the boop war? Good times. Fond memories.

THIRTEEN STOREYS and FAMILY BUSINESS by Jonathan Sims

Tumblr's favourite Nightmare Factory @jonnywaistcoat has two novels out and they're phenomenal horror that also punch you in the throat with SOCIAL COMMENTARY and FEELINGS. He's so adept at tapping into the specific part of my brain that feels fear like a small child - not the adult creepy scared that I normally get around horror, but specifically the kind of fear that almost freezes your limbs and vocal chords with a terror you don't quite understand because there is so much in the world that you don't know, but you know that somehow this thing might be quick enough or smart enough or sneaky enough to get you before you can get to the safety of your parents sort of fear.

THIRTEEN STOREYS is a haunted house novel, but set in a refurbished block of flats. Each chapter follows a different resident being haunted in a different way, with a style to match the flavour of ghost. It's all tied together phenomenally and brutally.

FAMILY BUSINESS is a story about ghosts in a different way, following a woman who joins a post-mortem house cleaning service while grieving the death of her best friend. But as she removes the stains from the houses of the dead, she begins to suspect something else is removing even more.

Both of these titles are available from Gollancz worldwide!

THE LAST UNICORN, THE WAY HOME, THE INNKEEPER'S SONG and A FINE AND PRIVATE PLACE by Peter S. Beagle

Obviously Peter's work needs no introduction, and our editions aren't available in the US and Canada, but I've had a wonderful time working with Peter and his team to bring these beautiful books back to the UK. Meeting him at Worldcon this year was such a magical moment, and he was jet-lagged and I had gone through sleep deprived into hyper and was bringing an Extremely Weird Energy to every interaction I had that day, resulting in this photo:

THE LAST UNICORN and THE WAY HOME are a matched pair of wonderful fairy stories. THE WAY HOME has two novellettes in it, and the first - 'Two Hearts' - won the Hugo award. It will also destroy you.

A FINE AND PRIVATE PLACE was Peter's first ever novel, and it's wistful and romantic and so beautiful.

THE INNKEEPER'S SONG is his epic fantasy quest, it's an adventure story that reads almost lyrically. Also there's an orgy in the middle which caught me by surprise when I was reading it for the first time on the train into work.

HIGH VAULTAGE by Chris and Jen Sugden

It's possible that someone on this website doesn't know I was involved with this book but don't worry, I will HUNT THEM DOWN AND TELL THEM. This is the first book I took all the way through the editorial process from end to end and I am SO PROUD of it and Chris and Jen and their wonderful world of @victoriocity. Officially one of the seven funniest books published in the UK this year, shortlisted for the Wodehouse Prize for Comic Fiction. It's a chaotic, bonkers murder mystery set in an alternate Victorian London which is the most gleeful dystopia I have ever encountered.

Featuring:

Grumpy Sunshine besties

The Victorian Equivalent of the Chuck Norris Meme

A robot who undertook a course in People Management

An indefatigable beagle

This is another book that you can get from Gollancz all over the world, and you SHOULD because it's amazing. Go into your local bookshop and ask them to order it into stock. It's a great Christmas present. It's my firstborn book baby (like that's a completely normal thing to say when I didn't even write it). Also if you're a fan of the podcast, why not tell the Guardian how great it is, and make a nuisance of yourself until they review. (I would, but the form asks for your name and then they'd know I didn't suddenly discover Victoriocity this year. Either that or think I was a very careless editor.) If you've not listened to the podcast yet, you absolutely should. It pings all my Douglas Adams receptors in the best way. If you like HITCHHIKER'S GUIDE, if you like CABIN PRESSURE, VICTORIOCITY is the perfect addition.

HAMMAJANG LUCK by Makana Yamamoto

SLIGHTLY cheating because HAMMAJANG LUCK isn't out in North America until January (pre-orders make great Christmas presents guys), but it IS out in the UK and the rest of the world next week! This is my second big editorial project and it's a Big Gay Space Heist ft. disaster lesbians, trans characters, and a tech billionaire getting put in his place. It's joyous and energetic and crammed full of Hawaiian pidgin as a love letter to the diaspora. @makana-yama is a phenomenal writer and this is their love letter to their communities, families both born and found, while also a statement on the victims of gentrification (and how those are disproportionally BIPOC communities). PLUS:

friends to enemies to cautious allies to lovers

trans cyborgs

Suck It Space Elon

You know that One Scene in Charlie's Angels where Cameron Diaz is in the white body suit and breaking into the safe and has to stretch out to hit two buttons at once? Yeah. That's the vibe.

Being able to work with Makana is a delight, and HAMMAJANG tapped into all the feelings I got watching LEVERAGE for the first time, so I went to watch it again while I was editing. Also OCEAN'S 8.

DEEP BLACK by Miles Cameron

So, barring Branderson, Miles Cameron may be one of our most prolific authors. He writes a minimum two books a year, one SFF and one historical fiction (as Christian Cameron) and he is... An absolute phenomenon. He IS the Chuck Norris meme. I'm obsessed with him. He's former US military intelligence turned naturalised Canadian Hippy, has written over fifty novels, can turn his hand to any genre and write it fantastically, is a practical archaeologist - running large scale re-enactments from a variety of periods ranging from Bronze Age right the way up to the Victorian era, using traditional techniques to allow academics to study how the practicalities of weapons, clothes, food etc. would have worked in practice. Two years ago he won a medieval combat tournament in Verona, a clear ten years older at least than the next oldest competitor, he teaches Historical European Martial Arts, but ties it into the history of martial arts globally. He can make his own clothes, ink, leatherwork. He's a ballet dancer. I once took him for a day out and he ended it in a different shirt and shoes from the ones he'd started in. I asked him for an author photo and he sent me this:

DEEP BLACK is the sequel to his critically acclaimed SF debut ARTIFACT SPACE, where he has taken his research and experience of global historical cultures and extrapolated to create an interplanetary future where the best of all are celebrated. And then Aliens Happen. And then, in reaction, Capitalism Happens (which is covered in the short story collection BEYOND THE FRINGE).

He's such a thoughtful and erudite speaker, if you're curious about his work, I'd recommend listening to his episodes on the Friends Talking Fantasy podcast, and also his appearance on The Publishing Rodeo.

If SF isn't your bag, he's also got:

Arthurian fantasy

Bronze Age fantasy

Medieval Mages fantasy

A CURSE OF CROWS - Lauren Dedroog

I actually inherited Lauren when a colleague of mine departed for fresh pastures, which gave me the great opportunity to work on this series which is so vastly different from my usual fare. It's epic, sweeping, romantic and lush, with such detailed description and complex political machinations, while also being brutal, dark and heavy (tw: for sexual assault, torture etc, etc.). If you like Sarah J Maas and Cassandra Clare, this should hit the sweet spot. Lauren is an ICU nurse when not writing, and this was somehow created when she was putting in a million hours in hospitals during COVID. The feat boggles my mind.

A CURSE OF CROWS is out now in the UK, Australia and Europe, and it won the People's Choice for Standaard Boek's Book of the Year award in 2023, in her home country of Belgium. It will be hitting shelves in North America next September! A DANCE OF SERPENTS is where I get to pick up the editorial mantle, and that has just landed in my inbox this week so I am excited to dig in.

Featuring:

Harold, they're lesbians

Murder baby is actually a cinnamon roll

Sensitive wings are sexy

For serious, though, I'm lucky enough to work with a lot of authors I'm genuinely obsessed and astounded by. And yes, I do get to work on Joe Abercrombie, Brandon Sanderson and Andrzej Sapkowski, but they're not MY authors - they're led by the incredible Gillian and Marcus who I'm not 100% certain sleep. There are so many people on the Gollancz list who I could recommend for DAYS (and will, if you so request), but this is my stable of superstars.

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eideticmemory · 3 months ago

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LATE NIGHT TALKING | MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER

The best man and maid of honor hooking up? How cliche!!

Word Count: 8k

Warning/Includes: Ridiculous amounts of flirting. Very “omg just fuck him and get it over with” vibes. The wedding of a fictional couple that I got way too invested in! Smut! Named after this song because I was listening to it when I got the request lmao.

Shout out to Matthew for literally being in someone’s wedding while I was writing this. I love you, baby ❤️

Hattie Welsh is a city girl. She was born and raised downtown where she would walk herself to school during the week and had a route for maximum weekend shopping. An only child to two parents, a dad who stayed home when it was Not the norm, she got anything and everything she ever wanted. Her dad would meet her on the front porch with her bike after school and they'd cruise around the neighborhood. On weekends, all three of them would take the 10 minute drive to the local park where they'd bike the same 8 miles every Saturday. At the end of the trail was an ice cream shop. Birthday cake was her favorite. She'd get three scoops in a cone but her dad would always end up finishing the last scoop for her.

It was memories like these that inspired Hattie to use her business degree to open an outdoor supply company. She named it after her parents. Alan & Eva's Co-op. It started very local. But Hattie was always good with promotion. She had an excellent marketing team and connections formed around the state. A year into business and Alan & Eva had three locations.

With this sudden growth, Hattie had to seek out more intensive financial advisement and she requested the services of LF Corporation - financial consultants of companies like North Face and REI.

This is how she met Cole Briggs.

Cole was sent to meet with Alan & Eva's CEO. He knew her name, he knew her qualifications, he knew the context of their meeting. He did not know how gorgeous she was so he was immediately caught off guard. His palms were sweaty by the time they shook hands.

"Oh, wow!" he remarked as he saw the bike mounted on her wall. "A Schwinn? I had the same one as a kid but in green!"

"Oh my gosh, yes! That's actually my childhood bike!" she beamed. She leaned over her desk with a bright smile. "I've kinda outgrown it."

He laughed, "I grew up in Pullen Park neighborhood so my friends and I would ride the trail at-"

"Warren park?" she gasped. "My parents and I used to go every weekend, still do!"

"No way! Where-where are your parents?"

"Downtown, near the natural science museum."

"Ah, yeah, yeah. We didn't get downtown often but we would occasionally have family dinner nights at Kaleidoscope."

"Oh, we love kaleidoscope. The lobster-"

'Mac and cheese! Are you kidding? I can inhale it in one bite. Sometimes my dad would pick it up for me on the way home.”

She cackled. She looked at him lovesick. "How have we never met?"

"What high school did you go to?"

"Hollis. You?"

"Ah, okay. I went to the Day School."

"Ooh, fancy pants."

Blush crept over his face and flustered, he set out his briefcase and took a deep breath. "So you're looking into financial assistance for all three locations?"

She stared at him for a moment, "That's right."

And that was it.

Immediately after Cole left the room, she called you. Her best friend, her confidant, her person. You had your hands busy at work so you tucked the phone between your ear and shoulder, “Hello?"

"[y /n]! Hi, you busy?"

"Uh, a little. But I can chat. What's up?"

"I think I just met my husband."

You paused. "Okay, I'm not busy."

Cole proposed while they were on a hike. A week before, he had asked for your blessing. He said, "You'll be the first one she calls so I just didn't want you to be surprised."

Though, when she facetimed you to show you the diamond rock, you still pretended to be surprised.

A formal ask to be her maid of honor was completely unnecessary. You were born to do it. Who else would it be? Still, she made you the cutest basket, filled with perfume, a travel mug, some candles, some candy. You happily accepted.

And happily planned her engagement party and bridal shower and bachelorette party. You got the dress she wanted you to wear. And when the weekend finally arrived, you traveled nearly an hour into the country to get to the wedding venue.

10 acres of privately owned land sequestered down a dirt road. The ceremony site was a simple platform with an arbor placed in front of rows of benches. Surrounded by trees. Hiding right beside it is a wooden home designated for the newlyweds. The reception site is about a mile away, covered by a tent. There is a garden of roses and daisies. Further down the property is a large barn with rows of tents. It is absolutely everything Cole and Hattie wanted. It is so them.

You help set up for the rehearsal dinner. The parents of the bride and groom have arrived. Your friends and fellow bridesmaids are mingling with the groomsmen. Hattie would be so much more stressed without Opal. Opal is a an older woman, short but strong and a prolific wedding planner. She ushers the men around like pieces on a chess board and directs the caterers without so much as a glance.

As you chat with the happy couple, she calls, "Cole." It's not exactly friendly. She marches up and takes a firm hold of his arm.

"Yes, ma'am?" Cole shakes and Hattie glances over at you with a small smirk. You have to contain your laughter.

"Where is the best man? We are way behind schedule and losing daylight."

"I know. I know. I'm sorry. He had to fly in but last I heard he was on the road from the airport."

"Okay, can I get an ETA on that?"

"I, uh...I don't... have one."

"Babe!" Hattie whines.

"Hey, I'm sorry! Look," he glances at all three of you, intimidated by your pressed faces. "T'll give him a call."

"Wonderful idea," Opal watches closely as he steps away, his phone in his hand, quickly pressed to his ear. She turns away from Hattie, mumbling,

"You update me on that, okay?"

"Yes, Opal," she nods and turns to you with a huff.

You giggle, "Are you sure this guy's real?"

"Oh, I'm sure."

"Okay, well," you throw your hands up in a shrug, "Can't we just start without him? It's hot and we're supposed to be eating already."

"No, we can't. It throws off the flow of the ceremony. Plus, Cole really wants him here."

"Mhm and where is this guy coming from again?"

"Matthew."

"Huh?"

"His name is Matthew."

"Okay. Where is Matthew coming from?"

"New York. I told you he's an actor."

"Yes, yes," you roll your eyes. "Surprised he could find time in his busy schedule to come to his friend's wedding."

"He loves Cole. Cole loves him. More than me, I think. They've known each other forever."

'Mhm. Quick question, does Matthew know Cole's getting married tomorrow?"

She shakes her head and laughs, beaming at Cole as he walks back over. "Hi, baby. Did you talk to him?"

"Uh...no..." he feels bad saying it. "But! I'm sure he'll be here any second."

"Cole!" it's a shriek from the distance that instantly silences the crowd. The crunching of leaves under hurried feet, rustling through the trees, "Cole! I'm here! I'm here!"

"See?" Cole says to Hattie with the brightest smile. "I told you, I told you! Matthew!" he waves.

And out of the trees comes what you can only describe as a colorful slenderman. He's tall and dressed in a sage suit, in accordance with the dress code. He nearly trips coming down the steps but he catches himself, just in time, stumbling over on the tip of his toes. The center of attention, pulling all eyes towards his entrance, which you think would annoy the bride and groom. But no, you look at them and they're just delighted. Grinning ear to ear, Cole's arms outstretched to catch Matthew in a great, big hug.

"Oh, man!" Matthew huffs. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. My flight got delayed and then I couldn't get a rental and then I got lost, I'm so sorry!" he instantly releases Cole to give Hattie a kiss on the cheek and a hug, "I'm so sorry, please don't kick me out of your wedding."

Hattie cackles, “Oh, we could never!”

You watch as his expression transfers from guilt to a sweet smile. You watch him rub your best friend's back and give her one final squeeze before his eyes cut up and accidentally meet your gaze. He couldn't help but wonder where the pretty sandals and pretty dress would lead, but once he sees your face, he can't look away. He stands up tall and takes a small step around Hattie just to get to you. "Hi," he holds out his hand.

"Hi," you smile and your hand fits in his like a glove. You only take a second to memorize the features of his face, the tip of his nose, the stubble on his chin, the light in his eyes. But it feels like an eternity.

Behind him, Hattie and Cole watch the spark catch flame. She nudges his arm and they look at each other with knowing smiles. Cole nods, "Uh, Matthew, this is Hattie's best friend and maid of honor, [y/n]. [y/n], this is my best friend and best man, Matthew."

"ly/n]." Matthew says breathlessly. "Hi."

"Matthew. Hello, nice to meet you."

"Now," he slyly puts his hand over yours to keep it in place. "That is maid of honor, right? Not matron?"

You giggle, "Yes. I'm completely and totally unwed."

"Good, good. Excellent. Love to hear it."

You giggle, again, and it's the most ridiculous sound. Cole and Hattie could not enjoy the show any more. "You two will actually be walking down the aisle together," Hattie says.

"Oh, wow," Matthew exclaims. "Had I known that, I would've been here way sooner."

"So not funny, dude," Cole shakes his head but you think it's hilarious.

"You're laughing?" Opal's voice cuts the laughter short. "The sun is setting, the food is getting cold and you're laughing?"

"Sorry, Opal," Cole frowns. "This is Matthew, the-"

"Matthew, [y/n], I need you two right here," she interrupts and with a hand on Matthew's shoulder, she gently pushes him to the side. She pushes him directly into you and it's almost instinct for his hands to take hold of your waist. Just as much so for your palms to fall on his chest.

"Oh no," he whispers. "This is... terrible."

You laugh and take a step back but he holds onto to your wrist, places your hand around his bicep as he faces forward.

"You feel at home being directed all over the place?" you ask, anxiously straightening out your dress.

"Um, actually I prefer to do the directing."

"Oh, have you considered wedding planning?"

"I offered to plan for these guys but they turned me down. I mean, what the fuck?"

"Well, I think that would've required you to be on time. Early even."

"Oh, then I'm out."

You cackle, a lot louder than you mean to, and once again here's Opal. "You two need to switch sides."

"Hm?"

"Switch."

"Oh."

You feel Matthew's hand linger on your back as you step around him, your hand instantly latching onto his opposite arm.

"We're so good at this," you shrug.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, right? Right? You'd think she'd cut us some slack."

Despite all the fuss leading up to it, the ceremony rehearsal itself is only 10 minutes at most. You and Matthew are the last to make your entrance and it is an odd feeling to separate. He stands on the opposite side of the arbor and as the flower girl practices her walk, he catches your eyes and mouths: miss you.

"Wonderful!" Opal cheers. It's the first time you've seen her smile all night. Once Cole and Hattie have finally taken their places right in the center. "Absolutely wonderful. Now, if everyone will head over to the reception hall for dinner. There is a lukewarm meal awaiting you all," and she cuts her eyes at Matthew.

"Again, Opal, so sorry about that," he shakes his head. You seem to be the only one who finds it funny.

Hattie gives Cole one big kiss and turns to you, "How weird was that? Me walking down the aisle? Did I look stupid?"

You take her hands in yours, shaking your head, "You looked beautiful. It's gonna be beautiful."

She shrieks, a long "eeeek!" of excitement that ripples amongst you and your friends. The group steps down from the platform, followed closely by the groom and his party. Matthew takes the opportunity to grab Cole's arm and whisper, "How long have you known [y/n]?”

"Uh, pretty much as long as I've known my fiancée." he laughs.

"And you were... what? Just hiding her from me? Not cool."

"You were hardly in the proper condition for someone like [y/n]. She's, uh, how do I say? Very grown up. Very focused, like her best friend.”

"And now? What condition am I in now?"

"The kind of condition where...I literally had no choice but to let you meet her?"

"Fuck off," Matthew shoves him and Cole stumbles with a cocky laugh.

"Sooooo," Hattie says as she interlocks your arms. She notices you looking back and she knows exactly who you're looking for. "Little lady?"

"Yes, little miss?"

"What do you think of Matthew?"

Your stomach flips at the sound of his name. "What do you mean?"

"Don't do that."

"What? What are you talking about?"

“This was you the whole rehearsal.." she sticks her finger between her teeth and mocks your giggle, "Tee-hee. Oh, tee-hee-hee-hee.”

"I was not!"

"Oh, but you were. You're quite smitten."

"I am not!"

"He's smitten with you, too."

"Whatever," you roll your eyes. But after a brief pause, you ask, "You think so?"

Clink-clink-clink.

You watch as Hattie rises from her seat, her doting fiancé standing beside her, to give a toast. You look up at her and it's not until this moment that you realize she's getting married. Not when she tried on her dress, not when she did a practice run down the aisle. Here. Now. With Cole's arm around her waist.

"Thank you all so much for being here. We're so grateful to have all our closest friends and family by our sides through this crazy weekend. I know some of you traveled very far and some of you are probably wondering when this whole thing will just be over but," she laughs along with the crowd. "Soon. Very soon. Thank you all for being readers in our little fairytale. Particularly these people sitting up here beside us, I know my friends have gotten an earful about Cole over the years."

"What did she say?" Cole interrupts, jokingly cutting his head towards all of you which earns him a burst of laughter.

"Seriously. Thank you all. Tomorrow wouldn't be possible without you and we can't imagine any other way. So…" she raises her glass glass and, because she's the bride and everyone must obey, everyone raises theirs as well. She looks Cole right in the eye and gives him that same lovesick smile she gave them the day they met. You glance away for only a moment and Matthew is looking at you the same way.

You tilt your head at him, furrow your eyebrows.

"To you," Hattie says. "To me. To us. Cheers."

"Cheers!" you toast, looking directly at Matthew who raises his glass to you, you alone, before taking a sip.

At the end of the night, the bride and groom are meant to retire to their respective areas. Cole and his groomsmen have a cabin on the other side of the property. Hattie and the girls have reign of the barn and an array of tents just in case they're feeling particularly outdoorsy. Yet, when the time comes, you and your friends sit on the barn's porch and watch Hattie and Cole embrace each other for a long time.

"I change my mind," she tells him. "We should just spend the night together. Let's go to our tree house."

He giggles and gives her a gentle kiss, "Ah, you just wanna get in my pants."

"So?"

A cackle now, "Goodnight, future wife. I love you."

"Noooo!"

"I love you!"

Hattie waits until he's out of sight, and even then, she stands there and wishes for him to come back.

"H! Come on, honey," your friend calls to her. "It's late. Big day tomorrow!"

So she reluctantly walks up the stairs and begins the process of unwinding. It's not easy. Every second something pops into her mind and she hops up, ready to spring into action. It's a group effort to reel her in. Eventually, it's just you and her, lying in a cozy bed and she can barely keep her eyes open. She's trying though.

"Okay," you sigh. "I should probably get going. You gonna be alright?"

She nods, "I'm getting married..."

You grin, "Yes, ma'am. You are. So you need to get some rest," you kiss her forehead and rise out of bed, groaning as you straighten yourself up. "You need anything?”

"Mm-mm," she shakes her head. "I'm okay. See you in the morning."

"See you in the morning."

You're one of the few who chose to rough it in a tent for the night. There's a small heater and a platform bed. It's not a whole lot but the bedding is comfortable. You snuggle in and despite all your exhaustion, you spend the next chunk of time scrolling on your phone. When you hear a faint knock on the scaffolding of your tent, you’re suddenly hyperaware of the fact that you're in the middle of the woods. Alone. Quite a distance between you and the next tent. You sit up slowly, unsure if your mind is playing tricks on you. You take timid steps towards the opening and flinch as a shadow passes by.

You hesitantly pull down the zipper and when you see Matthew wondering around, you breathe a sigh of relief. “Fuck, dude. You scared the crap out of me."

"I'm so sorry," he instantly returns and lowers himself down to your level. "I didn't mean to."

"Um..you do know this is the bridal side of the property, right?"

"Mhm. I was looking for you."

"Me?"

"Mhm. Wanna go for a walk?"

"A walk?"

"Yeah, with me?"

"With you?"

"Okay, just assume I mean everything I say from now on."

You giggle, "I just met you a few hours ago...you want me to walk some random trail with you in the middle of the night?"

"All true, yes."

You tilt your head at him, "Fine. Okay."

"Don't sound too excited."

You turn around briefly to grab a hoodie. You throw it on and step out of the opening, taking Matthew's hand as you step off the platform. He takes your hand and he doesn't let go. He'd hate to lose you in the dark.

“So,” he says as you start down the trail. Your face is gently illuminated by the lights along the pathway and he can’t stop staring. “How do you know Hattie?”

“Technically high school, but I think we were separated at birth.”

He chuckles, “Best friends, huh?”

“Oh, best friends. Went to college together, too. Lived together for a while, didn’t kill each other.”

“That’s rare.”

“I know. I don’t see her nearly as often as I’d like but that’s my girl. How do you know Cole?”

“Drama camp.”

You stop in your tracks, stop both of you in your tracks. Still, Matthew doesn’t let go of your hand. “Drama camp?”

“Yes? You didn’t know Cole was a theater kid?”

You continue walking but your face is absolutely flabbergasted. “Cole? Finance bro Cole? A theatre kid? You’re fucking with me.”

“Oh, I am not. He was quite good actually,” he laughs. “He could’ve been a star.”

“Wow…” you shake your head. “Wow. You think you know someone.”

“And then you find out he was in a summer production of Fiddler on the Roof.”

You stop again. You feel like you could fall to your knees. “Matthew. Please. Please tell me there are pictures.”

“My mom recorded the whole thing, there’s a cassette tape somewhere.”

“Oh my god!” you cackle. “You’ll have to show me.”

“Fly out to Vegas with me at the end of the weekend. I’ll show you all the good stuff.”

“Oh. You’re planning on taking me to your hometown already? To meet your mom and everything?”

“You can meet my mom, you can meet my dad, you can meet my stepparents, you can meet my sister, my brother, her husband, his wife, my nephews.”

“Woah!”

“Oh, they’d love you.”

“I just wanna see Fiddler on the Roof!”

You’re not sure how long you stay out with him. The trail lights make it seem like no time has passed at all. You fill the air with so much chatter that it’s a shock when you loop around to the barn. As you near your tent, Matthew’s steps grow smaller. Slower, following close behind you with your hand still tight in his.

“Well,” he sighs. “Thank you for accompanying me. I was scared to walk alone.”

“Oh, is that why you invited me?”

“I just thought I’d get lost by myself. Needed backup.”

“Mhm,” you nod. “You do seem quite helpless.”

“You have no idea.”

You giggle and as you step up to your tent, you’re not ready to go inside just yet. So you turn to him and he is dangerously close to you. You can feel the heat radiating from his chest.

“Well, I had a nice time,” you smile. “Thank you.”

“Thank you.”

It’s going to happen. You raise yourself on your toes. He takes a firm hold of your forearms. His nose touches yours. Then you hear the sharp sound of a zipper slashing open. You both flinch and look over to see your friend, poking her head of wild hair out the opening of her tent.

You bashfully step away from Matthew, crossing your arms. “Hi, Gina.”

Gina squints, yawning, “[y/n]?” She rubs her tired eyes and looks at you. Then at Matthew. Then you. Then Matthew. “Uh…what the hell are you two doing?” she smirks.

“Nothing,” you tell her. “Go back to sleep.”

She looks at you. Then Matthew. Then you. You. And she ducks her head back in.

You chuckle shyly and shake your head. Moment’s gone but he still looks pretty under the moonlight.

“It’s late,” you whisper. “I need my beauty sleep.”

He scoffs, “To get even more beautiful?” he shakes his head jokingly as he backs away. “[y/n], that’s just greedy.”

You laugh, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Oh, yes. You will,” he waves as he walks away. Blowing you a kiss, “Goodnight, [y/n].”

You wait until he's out of sight, and even then, you stand there and wish for him to come back.

“Ahhhh!” Hattie screams once you rise in the morning. You step into the barn, groggy and sluggish, but when you see her rushing towards you, you can’t help but smile. “Hi! Good morning!”

“Good morning, beautiful bride!” you give her a tight hug.

“We’re having a little breakfast. Here’s your mimosa.”

You glance down at the glass, taking it from her hesitantly, “It’s eight in the morning?”

“Hey, everyone has to do what I say today!”

“Okay, okay,” you take a quick sip and she beams, sitting down beside you at the table.

You fill your plate with food and seamlessly fall in conversation. None of it about the wedding, ironically. You have the rest of the day for that. Right now, in this moment, it’s gossip. It’s silly. It’s so relaxing that you don’t even realized you’ve finished your mimosa.

“I thought it was pretty cozy,” Gina shrugs. “Not sure what [y/n] thinks but then again she was out with Matthew all night.”

There is an immediate halt. Forks hitting the plate, a stunned silence falling over the room and all eyes on you.

“You were?” Hattie gasps.

You stutter, “It…wasn’t…all night. We-we just went for a walk.”

“Oh, is that what the kids are calling it these days?” a friend chimes in.

“We went for an actual walk!” you exclaim. “It was nothing.”

“Ohhhh, yeah,” Gina laughs. “It sure looked like nothing when I caught you two making out.”

Instant gasps.

“We did not make out!” you insist. “We didn’t even kiss!”

“H, how do u feel about making this wedding a joint thing?”

You look down, picking at your food as your face burns red and Hattie is just grinning at you.

Across the way, Cole receives a text from his bride, saying: Ask your friend wtf he was doing last night

Cole raises his eyebrows and spots Matthew shaving in the bathroom mirror. He slyly walks in and crosses his arms. He tries his best to be nonchalant, leaning back against the wall, eyeing Matthew in the mirror, “So. You have a good night?”

Matthew furrows his brows at him, “Yeah? Bed was comfortable.”

“Mhm. And…you didn’t…didn’t sneak off anywhere?”

Matthew completely turns his body around, “You and the wife talking about me?”

“My wife and her wife are talking about you, I think.”

He can’t help but smile to himself, “Well…cool…”

Cole laughs, “What’s the plan here, dude?”

“The plan is…to see [y/n] again as soon as humanly possible.”

Cole shakes his head, breaking a smile, “You do know that this is my wedding, right?”

Matthew laughs as he pats his face clean, “Yeah but…I don’t know, I was kinda thinking we could make it a joint thing?”

Once everyone’s hair and makeup is done, it’s silly to you that you have to pretend to do it all for photos. The makeup artist holds her brush to your full glam face just so the photographer can take a shot and it takes everything in you not to laugh. But it’s what the bride wants. You and the girls get into your dresses. You twirl and giggle like a game of dress up. Until Opal announces Hattie’s entrance. Then suddenly it’s very real.

Hattie walks downstairs in her gown, a ballgown specifically. Poofy, but not too big, a corset holding up her breasts, a diamond necklace on her chest to match her earrings. Her hair is put up and curled. Her makeup is done to perfection.

Oh. She is just perfect.

It moves everyone to a fit of squeals but you clasp your hands over your mouth and just stare at her. You go to wipe the tears from your eyes but remember your makeup so you fan your face. She laughs as she walks directly to you and takes you a tight hug. The photographer captures your sobbing face in all it’s glory. Hattie will frame that one for sure.

When Hattie’s dad comes around to escort her to the ceremony site, you take her hands in yours.

“It’s not too late,” you tell her. “We can still run.”

She laughs. “You know…I thought I might for a second there but…nah, I don’t wanna. I wanna marry him.”

You have to shake your head to keep from crying, “Okay. Okay, then let’s get you fucking hitched.”

Guest have arrived. Each chair is full and the forest around them is positively buzzing with excitement. The florals accentuate the atmosphere beautifully and now all that’s missing is the blushing bride.

You walk down the pathway with your friends, each of you holding up your dresses to protect them from the dirt. Your dress is by far the shiniest. Though all of yours are a variation of green patterns, yours is solid and laced with golden glitter tulle. The maid of honor must stand out. Matthew catches sight of you immediately but not just because you’re the maid of honor, not just because you’re shiny. But because it’s you.

And you look amazing.

It’s like everyone and everything around you fades away. Like he’s watching you walk towards him in slow motion. Your hair flowing in the wind, your lips stretching out into a smile just for him. When you step up to him, he has to take a moment because you just smell so good.

“Wowww,” he breathes out. “Look at you.”

You blush, “Look at me? Look at you!” you don’t even think about it, you just touch his clean shaven face. Run your knuckles over the smooth skin and he revels in it, closing his eyes for just a second. “You clean up nice.”

“Thank you. I only do it when absolutely necessary.”

You laugh and lean into him a bit, totally fixated until you notice the other bridesmaids watching you both from the sidelines. You cut your eyes at them and take a step back. You’re grateful when Opal comes in with her iron fist, arranging you all in order and demanding you stay there.

The music starts, you take a deep breath. You gave Matthew’s arm a squeeze, “You remember anything from rehearsal?”

“Nope, not at all. Just winging it.”

There is not much to say about the ceremony itself except that everyone - everyone - is in tears by the end. It is only thirty minutes but after it all, Cole and Hattie are married and nothing has ever felt so right.

Matthew links your arms as you make your exit behind the newlyweds and you can help but laugh at the tears staining his cheeks. You grin as you wipe them away with your thumb.

Pictures.

So many fucking pictures. So many poses. So many arrangements. So many beautiful backdrops to stand in front of and smile and live in awe of the bride and groom. Eventually, Cole and Hattie go off to take their own portraits and unsurprisingly, you wind up eating a plate of hors d'oeuvres with Matthew.

“You know her?” he asks you, nodding his head towards a guest who stays seated, fanning herself with her wedding program.

“Yeah, that’s Mia. We went to college with her.”

“It’s, like, not that hot out here, right? Am I crazy?”

“Asshole,” you swat his arm. “She’s pregnant.”

“Oh…oh. Oh, she is?”

“Yes!” you giggle. “You just can’t tell because she chose the poofiest dress to wear today.”

“Oopsie,” he cringes. “Hey, is that something you might consider?”

“Hm?”

“Getting pregnant?”

You nearly choke on your bite of food but promptly clear your throat, “What the fuck? Is that a threat?”

“No. No, it’s an offer,” he grins.

You shake your head at him, ducking your hesd down so he can’t see your heated face. Your smile. “You have your speech prepared?" you ask him.

"Speech?"

"Uh, yeah. Your best man speech?"

"I was supposed to write a speech?" he exclaims.

Your jaw drops in shock and horror and you're dangerously close to scolding him until you see a smirk form on his face.

'That's not funny!"

"Of course I have a speech. You think I'm nuts?"

"Yes!"

"I have a speech prepared that is going to bring absolutely everyone in attendance to tears. They might as well go ahead and pass out the tissues now."

"Oh, real confident there, huh?"

"My speech is gonna kick your speech's ass."

You cackle, "It's not a contest, you freak. We're declaring our love for our best friends and their new spouse!"

"Sounds like you're nervous. Sounds like you can't take the heat."

"What heat? You know what? I'm not doing this with you. I'm gonna deliver my speech and as long as Hattie loves it, I'm content."

He nods, “…bawk-bawk-bawk-bawk."

"Stop it!"

"[y/n]!” you hear from behind you and you whip your head around. Hattie is running up to you, dress lifted, feet fast. "[y/n]!"

You run right to her, catching her in your arms as you collide, "What? What is it? What's wrong? What are you doing? You're supposed to be getting ready for your grand entrance!"

She huffs, catching her breath, "I know. I will. I am, whew..." she catches her breath. "I just had to tell you," she pants. "I just got fucked in my wedding dress!"

"Oh!" you cover your mouth to conceal your burst of laughter. "Oh my god! I thought this was a classy party!"

"Well, we wrote it into the schedule. We even finished with three minutes to spare. Both of us!"

"Oh my god!" you repeat, hunching over in laughter as she runs off.

You and Matthew hadn’t prepared anything especially elaborate for your reception entrance. But the DJ makes the best man and maid of honor sound like such a big deal that you have to do something. Anything. And utimately, he just ends up twirling you around in front of him. Your dress flows through the air, this wide smile on your face and he so casually wraps his arms around you to prevent you from tripping in your heels.

Seriously. Could you two make it any more obvious?

Cole and Hattie are greeted with an uproar of applause and cheers, the photographer right in their faces, an outpour of love coming from all around them. You clap your hands incessantly and right in your ear is Matthew cheering, his hands on your waist, your back against his chest like it’s no big deal.

You sit down to eat with your friends and it’s one big round table of alcohol, gushing, yelling and laughter. Matthew’s called up to give his speech and he makes sure to walk by you on his way up. “Watch and learn,” he whispers.

You shake your head, roll your eyes, but you’re watching him. You’re watching the way he instantly takes control of the room and radiates this light under the night sky. You’ve got to give it to him. It’s a good speech. From beginning to end, it’s captivating. The emotional cadence in his voice ripples across the room and there is actually, literally a box of tissues being passed around.

He’s applauded by every guest and he immediately runs up to Cole and Hattie to give them a tight hug. He walks over to you and holds the microphone out for you, “Beat that.”

You eye him as he walks off and the giddy smile on your face quickly disappears when you make eye contact with Gina. She pinches her fingers and knocks her hands together, puckering her lips and making kissing sounds.

“Stop it,” you whisper.

You’re not as used to the spotlight as Matthew so when you stand up in front of everyone, you freeze for a moment. You struggle to get the words out. It’s not a contest, but you’re already losing. So you look at Hattie, the one person you are doing all of this for. It makes it a lot easier to just, speak your truth, “Hi. I’m [y/n] and Hattie is my very best friend.”

Hattie’s a mess instantly.

That’s the fun part about being the bride’s best friend. You know all the best parts of her relationship. You also know all the worst parts but those don’t need to be spoken today. You know how it’s made her happier, stronger, glow in a way she never thought possible. You know better than anyone that this is where she’s meant to be and who she’s meant to be here with.

She can hardly wait one second after you finish to run up to you and give you a big hug. She squeezes you so tightly that you think she’ll never, ever let you go. You escort her back to the sweethearts table and throw a smug look towards Matthew’s way. He puts his hands up in surrender. You win.

After a while, when the grandparents and kids have left and the hour for the fun adults has arrived, you’re just buzzed enough to dance. And you do. You let Hattie shake her ass on you a bit and for a while, you’re just girls again. No one’s wife, no one’s employee. Just girls. It wears you. You take a seat just to down the rest of your wine and catch your breath.

“You all danced out?” Matthew asks as he approaches you. He holds out his hand, “Or you got one more left in you?”

You tilt your head, drunkenly smirking at him, “I think I can squeeze you in.”

“Yeah?” he pulls you to your feet and into his arms. “Squeeze me into where?”

You giggle. You shamelessly fall into his chest, “Take me to the dancefloor.”

He does, he lead you right to the center. He puts his hands on the small of your back and cradles your hand against his chest. He breathes in the scent of your hair and sighs.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do once I have to part from you tomorrow.”

“Just put me in your pocket,” you whisper. “Take me to the big city.”

He chuckles, pulls you closer, putting your bodies flush together. “I will, in a heartbeat. Just say the word.”

You grin. You stare into those beautiful eyes of his and inhale the center of his chest and exhale with a soft hum, “The word.”

He smiles. You smile. You take a look around and then you two make your exit.

Off to the side, the bride and groom are slow dancing. The rest of the world has faded away. Though their feet are a bit uncoordinated, everything feels properly in place.

“Sooo,” Hattie puts her nose to his. “You’re thinking the same thing I am, right?”

“Thaaaat we have three more minutes of fun time? You wanna go now?”

She cackles, “No! About Matthew and [y/n].”

“Ohhh, right. Them. You were right. I owe you five bucks.”

“Mhm. For the rest of your life.”

He smiles softly, rubbing her back. He looks around the area and furrows his eyebrows, “Where…are Matthew and [y/n]?”

Hattie giggles, singing, “I know where they are.”

“No…” Cole gasps. “No…you think?”

She shakes her head at him. Sweet, dumb Cole. “Oh you are just so cute!” she kisses his nose.

In the solitude of your tent, Matthew stands behind you and slowly unzips your dress. He plants soft kisses on each spot of your skin as it’s revealed and you hum under your breath at the gentle contact. His hands latch onto the thin straps and pull them over your shoulders. He kisses your neck and runs his hands over your chest as he pushes the dress down your body. All that’s left of you is a strapless bra and seamless panties that he sticks his hands in. You step out of them and turn to face him.

You touch his face and look at him with these hooded eyes, smiling softly as you push his jacket off of his shoulders. You undo the buttons on his shirt and touch all over his exposed chest. He nuzzles his nose into yours as you take off his pants and he falls back on the tiny bed, letting you pull them off his legs.

He stretches out his legs but his feet hang off the edge so he bends his knees, “I don’t think I fit,” he chuckles.

You grin as you casually straddle his lap, running your hands over his arms. “We’ll just have to make you fit,” you whisper.

He gives you the faintest little whimper, leaning in to you with his mouth open. And just like you had meant to last night, finally, you kiss him. You kiss him. You touch his tongue to yours and place your hand on his throat, engulfing his entire mouth in yours. Both of you release these deep, guttural moans and Matthew gasps as you roll your hips on him.

He grips onto your waist, readjusts to get the right angle and you can feel him getting hard between your legs. It's almost juvenile, the way you both get so hot from dry humping. The way your mouths are so hungry that there's no coordination.

There's moments where you go in for his lips and catch his cheek instead and he pushes his face into yours so quickly that he only catches your bottom lip. He goes to grab your hair to keep you in place but he doesn't want to mess it up so he holds the back of your neck. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, take a tight grip of his hair and lean your entire body on his. There, the friction is perfect and you moan directly into his mouth.

Matthew shifts his focus to your jaw, gently nibbling on the skin from your ear to your neck as he unhooks your bra. You whine quietly, rocking your hips against him and leaning your head back to expose your throat. He wants to fucking bite you. He has the quickest impulse to sink his teeth into you but he doesn’t want to leave a mark so his hands land harshly on your ass as he groans in your ear. You gasp, your back arching and you think: fuck this.

You put your hand on his chest and push him back on the bed. He lets you but he whimpers. He wants to be kissing you. Needs to be kissing you. He looks up at you with wide eyes, his jaw dropping when you free his cock from his briefs. He licks his lips, nodding, begging, “Mm…mhm, mhm, mhm, mhm.”

You giggle at him, but that giggle is cut quickly by the ease in which his cock slides into you. You both gasp and he catches you as you fall into his arms. You feel just as good as he thought you would. Better. Even better. You watch his eyes roll to the back of his head and you try to kiss but your mouth are wide open. It’s mainly just heaving breathing and teeth on teeth.

He takes full advantage of the angle in his knees, keeps his hands on your ass to spread you open and push all the way into you. He likes the sound you make so he does it again. Again. Pulling all the way, pushing all the way in. Again, a little deeper. Again, a little harder. Harder and harder until you’re squeaking against each other’s lips uncontrollably, the one thing that’s louder than the sound of his skin slapping into yours.

He looks into your hooded eyes and begs, “Kiss me.”

So you do. You kiss him with a sloppy mouth and once again, there’s no coordination. You’re rocking around the tiny bed so carelessly that it might break. But even then, you wouldn’t stop. It’s hard to breathe. It’s hard to think. You just push yourself back on his cock, meeting him at just the right time that you’re entire body twitches violently.

“N-not…fuck…” you stutter against his lips. “Not…gonna…last…long…like this…mm, fuck.”

And he grins, delighted at the thought of getting you off. So quickly, so easily. Still, he pleads, “Oh…” he bucks his hips up into you. “Can’t we just…m-make it last forever? P-please…please, please, please…”

You shut him up with another kiss. You grab onto his hair and grind on him eagerly, chasing your high for what feels exactly like forever. The way the tension builds first in your thighs and then your belly and radiates throughout your entire body, you can hardly comprehend it. You tighten your grip on his hair and breathe out, “Matthew.”

“[y/n],” he breathes out and it sounds so helpless that you can only reply with a whimper. You increase your speed, your rhythm becomes sloppy but Matthew is rock solid. He cups your face in his hands and repeats, “[y/n].”

“O-oh, fuck. Oh…god…” you latch onto his wrists. You can’t take it anymore, “Mm…” and you come on his cock with a loud and visceral moan straight from the back of your throat. The way your pussy tightens around him has him matching your volume and the kiss you give him is so dirty that he will taste it for weeks.

He doesn’t stop. He fucks you through it until your body is all but convulsing. He only stops to prevent himself from coming inside of you, instead raising your hips to shoot his load all over his stomach. His knees tense up and tighten against you as the weakest groans escape his lips. You hum softly to yourself and you lower yourself down the mattress, licking the mess off his stomach as you make your way back to his lips. He’s stunned but rewards you with a kiss. He wishes the kiss could last forever. He tries his best to make it so.

But you crash on his chest, panting loudly and allowing your body to finally relax. Your head rises and falls with every heavy breath he takes.

“Let’s get married,” he huffs and you laugh, sitting up to look at him. “No?”

“Mm-mm,” you shake your head.

“Ugh…worth a shot.”

It’s so peaceful. A calm after a storm - a hurricane. Until your phone illuminates the dark space and you reach over his body to check the text. It’s from Hattie -

As soon as youre both done, my husband and i would like to make our outro! :)

“Oh, shit!” you exclaim and that’s all Matthew needs to hear.

You both hop up at lightening speed. You somehow get dressed even quicker. You rush out of the tent, nearly tripping over your feet, hand in hand.

“Wait,” Matthew says and when you pause to look at him, he fixes the clip in your hair and then he gives you a kiss. You look back at him with a smile as you run back to the reception.

You catch Hattie and Cole just in time. They are already lined up and ready to go when you two reappear. Matthew grabs Cole’s shoulder and laments, “Sorry about that, dude. I-I got caught up. Sorry.”

“Oh yeah,” Cole smirks as he keeps walking. “I can tell. Your jacket’s on inside out.”

After Matthew remedies that, you two casually clap and cheer as the newlyweds walk through the crowd of excitement. They promptly load themselves up on a golf cart and you watch them disappear into the night.

Matthew sighs, turning to you, “So…I guess our jobs are done for the night.”

You sigh in return, shrugging, “I guess so.”

“You gonna be lonely in that tent tonight?”

“God...” you shake your head. “I hope not.”

And that night, you are far, far from lonely in that tent.

You wake up together. Matthew made himself fit in that bed once again. You get dressed together. You both clean up the tent and step out together. And once again, there’s Gina, catching you in the act. She doesn’t say anything. But when she walks past you two, the tiny smile on her face says it all.

Back at the reception site, Hattie and Cole serve a light breakfast and deliver a toast that is short and sweet. Blah blah blah, thank you all for coming. Blah blah blah, we love you so much. Blah blah blah, we have a plane to Cabo to catch. You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here!

They go around to say their goodbyes and while Cole is distracted, Hattie intentionally saves you for last. She gives you a long hug, “Missed you last night.”

“Yeah, uh…” you blush. “I am so sorry about that.”

“Oh no, don’t be,” she gives you a quick kiss on the cheek. “It all went according to plan.”

“To-“ you stutter. “Hattie Jane Welsh…”

“Aht-aht!” she grins as she walks away from you to join her husband. She flashes her rings, “Hattie Jane Briggs. I already changed it on instagram and facebook!”

You jaw is dropped in absolute shock and you can’t pick it up. In fact, your mouth is still wide open when Matthew approaches you.

“So, pretty lady, what are you doing after this?” he asks.

“Got a train to catch back home.”

“Oh, a train? How far is the drive?”

“About an hour.”

“I have an hour…” he says. “And a rental car.”

A sweet smile spreads across your face. He mirrors it right back to you. You take hold of your suitcase, step over to him, stand straight up and wrap your hand around his bicep. You’ve had a lot of practice.

“Okay,” you nod. “Let’s go.”

#mine #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler fluff #matthew gray gubler smut #Spotify

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smallmariofindings · 2 months ago

Text

Hotel-only extra warning screen added to Paper Mario. LodgeNet was a game streaming service for SNES/Nintendo 64/GameCube games available in select hotels, with the hardware featuring additional buttons to manage the play experience.

The screen is telling the player to use the Reset button on the LodgeNet Nintendo 64 controller (which is not present on regular retail Nintendo 64 controllers) to reset all saved data. It is notable for being designed in the style of the messages seen in the game itself, instead of being a generic corporate-styled warning screen as would be expected from such a message.

Main Blog | Twitter | Patreon | Small Findings | Source

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vitalverstappen · 6 days ago

Text

The Bolter - L. Norris

summary: as she was leaving, it felt like breathing

pairing: Lando Norris x heiress! situationship! reader

warnings: drinking, swearing, allusions to sex, angst, pining

word count: 5k

masterlist

the tortured drivers department masterlist

Sponsorship events were never your thing. It was a bunch of frumpy old business men with race car drivers glued to their hips, begging for money. Not exactly your ideal Friday night. But unfortunately, having the Hilton name attached to you, you were forced to attend a few every year.

You never did the negotiations - that was all your father. Your job was to simply be the pretty face needed to help sweeten the deal in the company's favor. The idea of smiling and nodding through endless small talk wasn’t your idea of a good time, but it was worth it for the unlimited free stays, free room service, and much more.

Tonight’s event was hosted by Hilton, an invitation to show off why the company was the best in the business, and why drivers should want to be sponsored by them. With McLaren being based in England, it was only fitting that the event was held at the Waldorf Hilton in London.

You didn’t want to be there, but it was a necessary evil. The Hilton name had been intertwined with McLaren for years, and you were expected to show up and play your part. As you made your way through the crowd, glancing around for your father, you could tell it was going to be a long night.

Snippets of conversations - racing deals being discussed, numbers being thrown around like they were nothing - were heard as you scanned the crowd. It was all so transactional, so hollow. But before you could find the man you were looking for, your eyes landed on another.

Lando Norris, stood near the bar, chatting animatedly with a group of people, his signature grin never wavering. He was easy to spot in the crowd, his messy mop of curly hair now styled a bit, but he still had a mischievous glint in his eye.

You weren’t sure why, but something about the way he stood there - engaged but not entirely invested - caught your attention. It was rare for someone in the racing world to have such an air of self-assurance without trying too hard. You weren’t usually the type to seek out drivers at these events; they all blended together in the same corporate PR machine.

But you felt yourself being drawn in.

“Hey Lando” you said, strolling toward him with a soft smile, your voice cutting through the chatter around you.

His head snapped around, his eyes narrowed for a moment before a smile spread across his face. “Well, if it isn’t the Hilton heiress herself” he said, his voice casual, but warm. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight.”

You shrugged, tilting your head slightly. “I like to keep people on their toes, I guess.” you replied, glancing around the suited-up crowd. “I’m just here to make the room a bit more interesting.”

Lando chuckled, clearly amused. “I think you’ve already accomplished that. The room just got a whole lot more interesting.”

There was something in his eyes that told you he simply wasn’t making a polite compliment. He was genuinely intrigued, or at least, willing to entertain the idea of more conversation.

“Well, I guess it’s good to know I’m not the only one bored out of my mind.” you said, offering him a knowing smile. “It’s all business. But at least you get to drive the fast cars and make everyone love you. I’m just stuck shaking hands with people I’ve met a thousand times.”

“Same here, in a way” he said, leaning back slightly, his tone a little more relaxed now. “I’m usually the one doing the handshakes and smiling for the camera. I guess we both get our fair share of small talk.”

You raised an eyebrow. “So I’m guessing you’re a pro now?”

Lando grinned, a playful look in his eyes. “You could say that. But I’m always up for some better conversation. You know, something a little more… real.”

His words piqued your interest. You didn’t need to be in the racing world to know that Lando was a bit of a heartthrob. The media loved him - he was approachable, funny, and charming. But it was rare to see that side of him in a space like this, surrounded by corporate faces and press agents.

The conversation between you two grew more effortless, as if the world around you had melted away. You exchanged stories about the absurdity of these events, each of you poking fun at the cliches that came with it. But as the night wore on, you noticed something - something about the way Lando looked at you, something that was more than just playful banter.

It was the kind of look that made your pulse quicken, just a little. You weren’t sure if he was just playing along, or if he was genuinely interested in you, but the chemistry was undeniable.

For a moment, you considered pushing him away - making some witty comment to keep things light - but you were curious. Curious to see how far you could take it, how much you could toy with him before he realized what you were doing.

Some people would say you had a problem, bouncing from one guy to the next, as if they were toys you could discard at your own discretion. Your best friends always poked fun at how you dated, getting them hooked, and then leaving, prompting your nickname The Bolter.

But you liked to think of it as a talent - an art, really. A talent for keeping things interesting, for keeping people on their toes, and for never getting too attached. You weren’t a stranger to flirtation, to games of wit and charm, and this was no different.

By the time the event came to a close, Lando had asked for your number. You smiled as you handed it over - just another name to add to your list. You’d let him chase you for a bit, see how far he was willing to go, but in the end, you knew how it would play out.

The next time you saw Lando, it was at a house party. Your house party. You hadn’t planned for it - you didn’t even invite him. But there he was, leaning casually against your kitchen counter, a beer in one hand, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth like he knew something you didn’t.

It wasn’t until he caught your eye from across the room that you realized he had been waiting for this moment, waiting for you to notice.

You took a slow sip of your drink, eyes narrowing slightly as you surveyed him from across the room. Your eyes stayed locked on his as he made his way across the room, stopping next to you.

“You know” he said, his voice low enough to be a private comment but loud enough to be heard over the music, “you throw a good party”

You couldn’t help but laugh, though there was an edge to it. “I didn’t expect you to be here”

Lando just shrugged, that infuriatingly charming smile still on his lips “You didn’t expect half of these people to be here. But here we are.”

You couldn’t argue with that. The house was packed - people spilled out into every corner. You hadn’t planned for it to be this big, but somehow the word had gotten out, and no one was going to say no to a Hilton party.

“You never struck me as the type to crash a party” you said, leaning up against the counter. The marble was cold against the bare skin that was peeking out under your crop top. You knew he didn’t just stumble into here.

Lando leaned in slightly, “What’s it matter to you?” His voice was playful, but you could hear the underlying challenge in it. Like he was daring you to admit that maybe you were glad to see him.

You shifted your weight, crossing your arms as you did so. “Nothing, Norris.” you teased, but your eyes still tracked him, just a little too interested.

Lando chuckled, unfazed. “Don’t worry. I’m not here to ruin your party.” His eyes scanned the crowd briefly, then returned to you, taking in all of you. “Though I’m sure I could make it more interesting”

“I’m sure you could” you said, your flirtatious tone returning to your voice. You wanted him to drag you up the stairs. You wanted him to make a mess out of you right then and there.

But you couldn’t let him. He couldn’t have that satisfaction quite yet. You couldn’t boost his ego that quickly. He had to put in a little bit more work than crash your party.

Before you could respond, someone in the crowd shouted your name, and you turned away to find one of your friends weaving through the sea of people, clearly looking for you. Without a second thought, you walked towards her, leaving Lando alone in your kitchen.

Your friend wanted you to be her partner for beer pong, which to the surprise of no one, the two of you dominated. But as quickly as the two of you got to the table and played, you had left it, your focus set for your living room, which had turned into the dance floor, complete with a live DJ.

Your hips moved to the beat as the bass pulsated through you. The alcohol flowed through your system as you danced, not caring who saw you. The crowd around you blurred into the background, the flashing lights casting everything in almost a surreal glow. The DJ was pumping out track after track, each one pushed the energy higher.

Then, without warning, you felt an arm wrap around you. Turning, you came face to face with him again. His beer was replaced by a new one, and the same grin tugged at his lips.

“I wasn’t done with you. I was just getting started.” he said, his voice low and almost raspy.

You raised an eyebrow, not sure if you were flattered or annoyed. “What does that even mean?”

Lando’s grin only widened, and he took another step closer. “It means, darling, that I think you’ve been ignoring me for far too long.”

The simple sentences, spoken so casually, spent a spark of heat right through you. You bit your lip to keep from reacting too obviously, but the tension in the air was palatable.

“I’m not ignoring you,” you said, playing it cool, though the way your heart was racing told a different story. “You’re just not as interesting as you think you are.”

Before you could speak again, you felt his lips crash into yours. You were caught off guard at first, not expecting him to make the move then and there. Lando was intense, wanting to know all of you instantly. But as quickly as he had control, he lost it. He got lost in you, allowing for you to take over.

Your hands found their way to his jaw, fingers threaded through his hair as you pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. It was raw, and unstrained, an electrifying push and pull that left you breathless.

Lando groaned softly, his breath hitching as you took the lead, a grin playing at the corners of your lips when you felt the slight tremor in his body. He wasn’t expecting this - he was used to being in control.

But now, as your lips moved against his with increased urgency, it was clear that the tables had turned. His hands, once firm on your waist, now roamed relentlessly, as if trying to regain some semblance of power. You could feel the struggle within him, the way he fought to take control again, but you weren’t having it.

You pushed him back slightly, breaking the kiss just long enough to catch your breath. His eyes were darker now, full of desire and a flicker of challenge. “Can’t handle it?” he asked, a smirk forming on his lips

“If that’s what you want to think” you replied before you disappeared back into the crowd of people that managed to fit into your house, leaving Lando with the remnants of your smudged lipstick on his face.

You saw Lando again a few weeks later, but this time in a nightclub out in Singapore. The lights flashed in sync with the beat, the bass reverberated in your chest as you moved through the crowded dance floor. It was a completely different scene from the house party, yet Lando still managed to find his way to you.

The two of you had been texting off and on, but not nearly enough for you to expect him to know where you were. But there he was, surrounded by a few other drivers that you couldn’t name, the same uber confident smirk on his lips.

But the moment you caught his eyes, the smirk faltered for a moment, briefly being replaced by furrowed brows. The smirk returned instantly, but you definitely caught the slip.

Lando didn’t waste a second as he cut through the sea of people effortlessly. The moment he reached you, the noise of the nightclub seemed to fade, the beat of the music thumping in the background as everything else fell away. You couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at him.

“We must stop meeting like this.” you teased, shaking your head slightly

“Now where’s the fun in that?” Lando asked, his smirk ever wavering as he leaned in slightly. “Besides, I wouldn’t wanna leave a charming woman like you alone and helpless.”

You raised an eyebrow, the teasing tone lingered in your voice as you took a sip from your drink. “You’re really starting to enjoy this, aren’t you?”

Lando chuckled, that glint of mischief never left his eyes. “You have no idea.” He glanced over your shoulder, seemingly scanning the crowd before focusing back on you. “What are you doing in Singapore anyway?”

You tilted your head, pondering his question, “A bit of fun, a bit of escape.” you said, messing with the straw in your drink. “And you?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, taking a step closer to you. “Just work. Wrapped up the weekend yesterday, but we all wanted to stay a few extra days.” he explained “Can’t say I expected to run into you here though.”

You smirked, watching him carefully. “Right, you were just hoping for it.”

His grin widened at your boldness, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. “Maybe. But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit, I’ve been trying to figure out how long it would take for us to cross paths again.”

As you took in his confession, the smirk on your lips widened. You had him right where you wanted him. Lando’s confidence, the way he seemed so sure of himself, was usually enough to keep people on edge, but right now, just like it had back at your house, only fueled your amusement. He was enamored by you, drunk on not only the liquid in his cup, but on you.

Your arms crossed over your chest, careful not to spill the drink in your hands. “Well you certainly have a knack for finding me, don’t you?”

Lando’s gaze softened for a moment, the playful smirk fading into something more genuine. “Guess I know where to look.”

Before you could respond, he offered a hand. “Finish your drink, let’s get out of here.” he insisted

You glanced at the drink before looking back at the Brit in front of you. You knew what he wanted, and honestly, you wanted it too. So, you poured the liquid down your throat, ignoring the burn that came with it, and took his hand out into the streets of Singapore.

Lando expected to wake up with you, the two of you tangled in sheets and memories from the night before. After all, that’s how it happened when he stayed the night at your place a mere few weeks ago.

But his eyes snapped open to the sound of the slam of a door. He shot up, the bed empty, but sheets still warm next to him.

His heart sank for a moment, confusion mingled with a twinge of disappointment. The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of the city outside and the music still echoing in his mind.

The floor was cold under his bare feet as he stood and walked around the cramped hotel room, looking for any trace of you. But there was nothing. Your clothes had been picked up off the floor, and the McLaren t-shirt he had given you to sleep in was nowhere to be found.

“Fucking whore.” he muttered as he realized what you had done.

And that’s how it went for the next few months. The two of you would somehow run into each other, leaving with him as the night ended, only to leave his place before the sun rose in the morning. And no matter what Lando said under his breath about you when he woke to an empty bed, you knew he’d always be coming back for more.

The first time you saw Lando and neither of you took the other home was in New York.

You were there for work, or at least be the Hilton family representative at all of their executive meetings, as your father was busy doing the same out in London. In between the long, boring meetings, you found yourself tapping through social media, ultimately ending up on Lando’s Instagram story.

The photo was of Lady Liberty, with the simple location tag carelessly slapped on it. Based on the angle, you could tell it was taken on the New York side of the bay, most likely from Battery Park.

You don’t know what came over you, but you opened your text messages, and typed in Lando’s name. You stared at your phone for a moment, unsure of what you were doing. It had been a while since you last saw Lando, and while you had been fine with keeping it that way, now that you two were in the same city, the urge to see him again crept in.

You quickly typed out a message, second guessing yourself with every word.

You: you’re in town? How long?

You pressed send before you could talk yourself out of it, your finger hovered over the screen as you waited for a reply. You didn’t expect an immediate response, but a part of you was eager to hear from him, to see if he’d bite.

Seconds later, your phone buzzed. You glanced at the screen, a smirk playing on your lips as you read his response.

Lando: til friday. Might need a tour guide for the rest of the week.

You paused, considering your options. It was the last day full of meetings, and you had no places to be until next week, giving you plenty of time to show Lando around the vast city. But did you actually want to.

You: send me your hotel address. I’ll pick you up at 11am tomorrow

You weren’t surprised to find that he was staying at the Hilton in Midtown, thankfully only a few blocks away from Central Park - taking a taxi or the subway with a famous athlete never ended well.

When you arrived at the hotel, you spotted Lando standing in front of the revolving doors, looking very much like himself in a hoodie and sunglasses, his usual smirk plastered on his face. The second he saw you, the same cocky grin appeared.

“You actually showed up.” he teased, arching an eyebrow as you approached

You rolled your eyes, but a smile formed on your lips. “I’m not that unpredictable”

Lando raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “I beg to differ”

“Whatever” you mumbled

You led Lando through the bustling streets of the city. This place was a part of you, you knew it like the back of your hand. As you walked, you pointed out the places in the city that you held a little closer to your heart, the little corners of the city that tourists passed by with no thought.

“So this place,” you said, pointing to a hole in the wall Japanese restaurant, “serves the best ramen, and they’re open incredibly late. It’s a perfect spot or dinner or after a night out”

Lando glanced over at the restaurant, eyeing the neon sign above the door. “I guess I’ll have to check it out sometime.”

You continued down the streets, pointing out the bodega you go to religiously to cure your hangovers, and the coffee shop you stop at when you need a pick me up before meetings.

Eventually, the two of you found your way to Central Park, specifically to the boathouse. After paying to rent a boat, you made your way down to the shore.

“A rowboat?” Lando asked skeptically

You smirked as you handed him an oar, leaning back against the edge of the boat with a casual air. “What, you’re afraid of a little manual labor?”

Lando shook his head before taking the oar in his hands. “I just wasn’t expecting something so calm from you.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, settling into the boat and adjusting your own oar. “There’s more to me than you know” you said, your tone playful.

The sounds of the bustling city faded away as you rowed out to the middle of the lake, leaving you, Lando, and your thoughts. Conversation with him wasn’t the worst, but as you spent more time with him, you could see the water in the floorboards start to trickle in.

You had no problem with Lando’s confidence - it was the thing that drew you in in the first place - but it had a tendency to tip into arrogance, and that was something you didn’t tolerate. Maybe it was because you weren’t a stranger to that kind of behavior. You’d been surrounded by it your whole life. Whether it was your father’s business dealings, or the people who ran in your circle, self-assurance often crossed the line into entitlement.

And so, instead of taking him to that Japanese place you had mentioned earlier, you walked him back to his hotel. You stopped in front of the doors you had met at hours earlier, and Lando faced you, his hands stuffed casually in his pockets.

“Well,” he began, his grin reappearing. “I guess this is where I leave you.”

You nodded, taking a step back as you gave him a small smile. “Guess so. You don’t need a tour guide anymore.”

Lando chuckled, the light sound of it echoed in the space between you. “Maybe not. But you’re not as bad as I thought.”

Ouch.

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” you asked, masking your hurt with amusement.

“Maybe,” Lando said with a shrug, his voice much lighter than yours. “But I’m still figuring you out.”

You met his gaze, steady and unflinching. He was never going to figure you out. “Good luck with that.”

There was a long pause, and for a moment, you almost expected him to say something more, something that would tip the scale between this complicated, almost-friendship and whatever else had been simmering under the surface. But he didn’t.

Instead, Lando flashed that trademark grin. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

You nodded, your own smirk playing on your lips. “Maybe. Take care, Lando.”

With that, you turned and walked away, not looking back as you heard him call out your name once more. The door to the hotel clicked shut behind you, and you found yourself standing on the sidewalk, the sounds of the city closing in once more.

The last time you ever saw Lando was in Las Vegas.

It had been a few months since New York, and in the time between, you hadn’t spoken much. Sure, there were a few messages here and there, the occasional “how are you” or drunk “wish you were here” texts, but nothing meaningful. You kept yourself occupied with the next guy you had chosen, some up-and-coming actor no one really knew the name of.

You were in Vegas for a friend’s birthday, and your group had been bouncing from casino to casino letting your money and the night run wild.

It was late when you saw him - at a bar on the Strip, a neon-lit, smoke-saturated lounge tucked away in the back of a casino. The crowd was loud, music pounding through the floor, but Lando was easy to spot. Even in the haze of the flashing lights, his smirk was unmistakable. He was leaning against the bar, surrounded by a few faces from Formula 1 that you still couldn’t name if you tried.

When he saw you, the world around you seemed to pause for a second. His eyes found yours, a flicker of recognition flashing before that stupid fucking smirk retured, like he had been expecting you the whole time.

Though, as easy as it was to meet his eyes, it was easier to tear your gaze away from them.

You looked away quickly, engulfing yourself back into the conversation you were having with your friends about the worst name to give a child. Even though your back was turned to him, you could feel his eyes still on you, piercing through you like daggers.

Your friend made some remark that made your laugh, but it felt hollow. You could sense him closing the distance between you, even though the crowd still swirled around you like an endless blur.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” a voice broke through

You didn’t need to turn to know it was him. You’d recognize that cocky tone anywhere. Slowly, you glanced over your shoulder, just enough to meet his gaze without letting the full weight of his presence hit you all at once.

His smirk softened just a fraction when your eyes locked. “Thought you were avoiding me” he added, his voice just loud enough to be heard over the music.

You forced a shrug, turning back to your friends. “I’m just here with some friends.”

Lando didn’t move. You could feel his eyes lingering on the back of your neck, the weight of them familiar, too familiar. It was almost suffocating, the way he managed to make you feel like the only person in the room, even in the midst of a crowd that seemed to pulse with life.

“Right,” he drawled, the mischievous smile never quite leaving his face. “Just here for the party, huh?”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes as you tried to focus back on your group. They were still talking, but your mind was clearly somewhere else. You could feel the tension between you building, thick and unspoken, and it was making you restless.

“Look,” you said, finally turning to face him fully. “It’s been a while, alright? I’m just not in the mood for all… this.” You waved a hand in his general direction.

Lando’s smirk flickered for a second, but he didn’t seem bothered. If anything, he seemed to find your discomfort amusing, which only made the knot in your chest tighten. He was putty in your hand, but he wasn’t something you wanted to play with anymore. The need to have you in his arms made you nauseous.

“I get it,” he said, his voice quieter now, more subdued. “But you’re still not gonna pretend like we don’t have unfinished business, are you?”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you took in his words. “There’s nothing unfinished between us, Lando.”

For a second, the playful air between you two dropped, replaced by something heavier. His lips parted, like he was going to say something, but he didn’t. Instead, he leaned in just a fraction. When he finally decided what to say, his voice lowered, as if you two were the only ones in the room.

“Is that so?” he said, the question hanging in the air, sharp and loaded.

You weren’t going to do this. Not here, in the middle of the bar. So, you grabbed his hand, and dragged him to a hallway away from the noise and the lights. When you got to the hallway, Lando’s smirk returned, expecting you to make a move now.

“You don’t get to decide what’s unfinished” you spoke instead, trying to keep your voice firm.

“But what if I think we do?” he asked, his tone now tinged with something more sincere. It was subtle, but you could hear it. A hint of something almost vulnerable. “I don’t know about you, but I haven’t forgotten what happened between us.”

“Yeah, well,” you began, keeping your eyes locked on his. “I’ve moved on. I’m not… whatever that was. I had a fun few months, but that’s all it was, just a few months.” you admitted, the words felt a weight being lifted as they came out of your mouth.

You watched as Lando’s face dropped, for the first time in a while, the smirk that was usually on his lips was nowhere to be found. The silence between you two was overwhelming as he took in your words. You almost walked out then and there, needing to be taken away by the alcohol and music around the corner, but your feet wouldn’t budge.

“You really believe that?” he asked softly, his voice almost disbelieving, the cocky bravado slipping further away. “You think we were just… a few months?”

You swallowed hard, your heart beating a little faster, but you held firm. It was never easy to let go of them. No matter how many times you bolted, it was still hard to say goodbye. But you knew that the feeling of fresh air and freedom outweighed the suffocation of staying.

“Yeah” you said, the words coming out with more conviction than you felt. “I do.”

And with that, you picked your feet up, and walked away. You let the smoke and neon lights greet you like an old friend as you returned to the bar, your friends still in the same place as where you left them.

“I have the best story for you guys” you said, excitement filled your voice as you returned to the group.

“Is it another one about a boy?” one of your friends teased

“Maybe…”

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randomitemdrop · 10 months ago

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you've posted a few ai generated images as items lately, and i'm wondering if that's intentional or not?

Short answer: no, it wasn't. Aside from a few I made when the generators first became publicly available and all the images were gooey messes, they've all been reader-submitted, although I'll admit I didn't catch the snail-boots. Personally I think AI image generators are a more nuanced situation than a lot of opinions I've seen on Tumblr, but given that they can be used so evilly, I'm steering away from them, if only to avoid the Wrath of the Disk Horse.

Long answer, and this is just my take, if you want to really get into it you'll have a much more interesting conversation with the people with devoted AI art blogs instead of me occasionally sharing things people submit:

There have been some major cases of unethical uses for it, but I think it's important to remember why AI image generators are such an issue; data scraping and regurgitating uncredited indie art is bad, but in the case of the snail-boots, it was just a fusion of one dataset of "product photos of boots" and another of "nature photos of snails", which I would say is not depriving anyone of credit or recognition for their work (MAYBE photographers, if you're a professional nature photographer or really attached to a picture you took of a snail one time?) I get the potential misuses of it, but when Photoshop made it easy to manipulate photos, the response was "hmm let's try and use this ethically" instead of "let's ban photo editing software". Like, I'd feel pretty unethical prompting it with "[character name] as illustrated by [Tumblr illustrator desperate for commissions]" or even "[character name] in DeviantArt style", but I'd have a hard time feeling bad for prompting with "product photo of a Transformer toy that turns into the Oscar Meyer Wienermobile". I know there's the question of "normalizing" the services but I think that overestimates how much the techbros running these things care about how everyday consumers use their free products, preferring to put their effort towards convincing companies to hire them to generate images for them, and in that case they respond way better to "here are some ways to change your product so that I would be willing to use it" than to "I will never use your product". For example here's one I just made of "the holy relic department at Big Lots", fusing corporate retail photos and museum storage rooms.

TL/DR: on the one hand I understand the hate that AI gets and it's not something I'm planning on using for any of my creative projects, but on the other hand I think it's overly simplistic to say it's inherently bad and should never be used ever. On the third hand, I really hate participating in arguments over complex ethical philosophy, so I'm just gonna steer clear entirely.

#the mod speaks

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my-darling-boy · 5 months ago

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It’s horrible how my design course has killed my enjoyment in creativity because all they want is finished pieces founded in nothing but a spontaneous mark just to hang at some concrete art gallery or to sell to some “join our revolution” comfy business-casual company with a prison cell wellness room. I’m not saying that it’s “not art” —cos that’s a different post altogether— it’s that the ethos behind this particular formula for art education is ruining the way we think about creation.

Design courses (and other art courses I’ve heard?) are no longer teaching artists or designers techniques, drawing skills, art fundamentals and allowing them to find their own voice so much as they are only instructing how to tic boxes alongside pushing corporate and classist motivated style/methodology bias aimed at producing workers, not creatives, not to mention providing Adobe with endless funds for their despicable scam programs. That’s it. My creativity is only a means to money for them, and if they can extract the process of creation from me without the complex creative intimacy involved in it, they know they can churn out products and services faster and it’s concerning some lecturers don’t seem to be aware this is what they’re teaching? Like they’re buying into industry propaganda?

And the whole time it’s sold to you like you can be some trailblazer when the irony is they’re usually either prepping you for cubicle work or for some misguided high horse creative team pumping out design solutions completely divorced from the reality. I’m tired of all the talks about sustainability in a vacuum with no conversation about nuanced designs that factor in broader social and economic perspectives which lack thereof is leading to sustainable products being sold at a price only able to be afforded by wealthier people who are causing said economic and social problems and contributing to the rapid obsoletion of trades and crafts. Lecturers and speakers don’t seem to think that’s any of our concern and should just worry about producing the design for the hypothetical Bluetooth powered organic hairbrush or using the twigs to make the pattern for the £85 fabric square.

Like? Can I please make something that actually resonates with people outside the circle jerk of egotistical creatives and corporations? Something charming and maybe idk something that doesn’t make me want to tear my miserable portfolio in half with my teeth? And they’re like Mm nope sorry it has to be an extreme close up of a mark making abstract leaf you made from a recycled trash bag inspired by a stalled urban space which we will force you to price at £100 during your exhibition 5 people will bother to attend and no you’re not allowed any other style cos this isn’t the Dark Ages :///

I think the worst thing my lecturer ever said was, while looking around the room of our class work reduced down to a series of cubes and splatters and abstract typography, “Wow, I love how you can’t tell what anyone’s [main artist discipline] is!” Like awww conformity at the expense of a person’s individuality to make pieces for airport hallways and rich people’s living rooms wow so cool heehee like girl that’s not good?? Why on Earth are you complimenting us for that? Like I get it, I thought this course would boost skillset as an illustrator (as we were told), turns out the degree is really not for me, fair enough to anyone thinking that, but forcing students to produce modern abstract art because you think it’s the ONLY Logical Pathway for the future of design, judging them intensely for doing a different style, and thinking producing financially inaccessible art + design is the solution to things like climate change and community severance is an objectively bad take.

#needed to get that off my chest it’s been sitting in my drafts and it’s still true #genuinely hate just about everything I’ve produced on this course #like illustration as a course was fine #this one is just depressing #had to almost completely reinvent my art after first year cos this Forced Style threw me off so bad #I am Scared for the future of creativity in academia #wrote a 10000 word essay (for fun) about why the corporate bullshit is contributing to the downfall of art #so needless to say I have my dissertation for my honours already #ok to rb #illustration #design

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ateez-himari · 3 months ago

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J-HOPE DISCHARGE CEREMONY

Jin brought an unexpected guest to celebrate his bandmate's military discharge

October 17, 2024 (8:41PM)

J-Hope enlisted in mandatory military service on April 18th last year and was finally discharged today after completing his eighteen months of duty holding not only the rank of Corporal, but the title of Special Class (Elite) Warrior as well. Unfortunately the only member present at the site, as announced by BigHit days prior, was the group's eldest, Jin, who completed his own service earlier this year, along with Suga's younger sister, ATEEZ lead vocalist Himari.

While people have just now begun uncovering the closeness between these artists, what happened during the ceremony solidified any findings circulating through social media platforms as the seniors beckoned the young woman to celebrate with them. When the rapper stepped out with a large bouquet in hand, those present at the scene believed the flowers to have been offered as a congratulatory gift by those stationed alongside him until he handed them to her.

Widely known to be rather soft hearted it was no surprise when the maknae was caught tearing up when sharing a tight embrace with him, and those watching what little clips were uploaded from the live stream reportedly got sentimental alongside them. J-Hope himself was seemingly attempting to hold back the wave of emotions that came with seeing her after so long, and although he did not touch on their reunion much during the Weverse live, the reason behind the flowers was finally revealed.

"I couldn't properly celebrate her debut as a fashion designer, or her surpassing 200 KOMCA credits...I missed a few milestones for her career so I wanted to let her know that I was watching and that I'm proud of everything she's done."

Himari was clearly overjoyed at the mere fact that her senior had returned and posted some heartwarming pictures to her personal Instagram account's story, showing what the two got up to prior to her attendance at the Elle Style Awards that evening;

Photo Source; @/min.himeeee on Instagram

Translation; 'Thank you oppa' - 'I missed you'

Even amongst so much happiness some keen eyed netizens noticed the vocalist hopefully searching the military base's grounds in hopes of seeing her older brother - which the rapper confirmed later that evening saying she did not get the notice posted by the company and thought they would get a chance to reunite shortly. Atiny were able to find some sense of relief for their maknae as he closed off this personal topic by promising that until they could be with one another again, the two discharged members would make sure to support and care for her like he would and would not fail to continue afterwards.

On this note; Welcome back J-Hope! 💜

Share This Post

#ateez au #ateez imagines #ateez 9th member #ateez extra member #ateez female member #kpop oc #himarinews♡

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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year ago

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The FTC has Big Pharma’s number

On November 27, I'm appearing at the Toronto Metro Reference Library with Facebook whistleblower Frances Haugen.

On November 29, I'm at NYC's Strand Books with my novel The Lost Cause, a solarpunk tale of hope and danger that Rebecca Solnit called "completely delightful."

The most consistent bright spot in the dark swirl of US politics is the competence of the Biden Administration's progressive enforcers: people like Rohit Chopra, Jonathan Kanter and Lina Khan, who keep demonstrating just how far a good administrator can go. Anyone can have a vision, but knowing how to execute is the difference between hot air and real change:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/23/getting-stuff-done/#praxis

Take a minute to contrast Biden's administrators with Trump's: Trump's administrators had an ideological vision just as surely as Biden's do, and Trump himself had a much more pronounced and explicit ideology than Biden, whose governance style is much more about balancing the Democratic Party's blocs than bringing about a specific set of policies:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/06/personnel-are-policy/#janice-eberly

But whatever clarity of vision the Trump administration brought to DC was completely undermined by its incompetence (thankfully!). Apart from one gigantic tax break, Trump couldn't get stuff done. He couldn't deliver, because he'd lose his temper or speak out of turn:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/14/when-youve-lost-the-fedsoc/#anti-buster-buster

And his administrators followed his lead. Scott Pruitt was appointed to run the EPA after a career spent suing the agency. It could have been the realization of his life's dream to dismantle environmental law in America and open the floodgates for unlimited, wildly profitable corporate pollution and pillaging. But the dream died because he kept getting embroiled in absurd scandals – like the time he sent his staffers out to drive around all night looking for a good deal on a used mattress:

https://www.nbcnews.com/politics/politics-news/epa-s-pruitt-told-aide-obtain-old-mattress-trump-hotel-n879836

Or his insistence on installing a CIA-style "Sensitive Compartmented Information Facility" (SCIF) so he could play super-spy while reading memos:

https://www.cnn.com/2018/04/26/politics/epa-administrator-scott-pruitt-sound-proof-booth-scif/index.html

Or the time he sent his security detail to the Ritz-Carlton to demand that they supply him lots of little bottles of his favorite hand-cream:

https://www.vox.com/2018/6/7/17439044/scott-pruitt-ritz-carlton-moisturizing-lotion

There were other examples in the Trump administration, but Priutt is such a good case-study. He's like a guy who spent his whole life training to compete in the Olympics, and finally got a shot, only to be disqualified for ordering too much room-service in the Olympic Village. Priutt was wildly ambitious, but he was profoundly undisciplined – and wildly incompetent.

Compare that with Biden's progressive enforcers and agency heads, who showed up on the first day of work with an encyclopedic knowledge of their administrative powers, and detailed plans for using them to transform the lives of the American people for the better:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/18/administrative-competence/#i-know-stuff

The Biden administration's competence translates into action, getting stuff done. Maybe that shouldn't surprise us, given the difference between the stories that reactionaries and progressives tell about where change comes from.

In reactionary science fiction, we enter the realm of the "Competent Man" story. Think of a Heinlein hero, who is "able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyse a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly."

In Competent Man stories, a unitary hero steps into the breach and solves the problem – if not single-handedly, then as the leader of others, whose lesser competence is a base metal that the Competent Man hammers into a tempered blade:

https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Creator/RobertAHeinlein

Contrast this with a progressive tale, like, say, Kim Stanley Robinson's Ministry For the Future, where the Competent Man is replaced by the Competent Administration, in which people of goodwill and technical competence figure out how to join forces to create population-scale architectures of participation that allow every person to contribute their skills and perspective:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/12/03/ministry-for-the-future/#ksr

The right's whole ideology insists that the world can only be saved by Competent Men. As Corey Robin writes in The Reactionary Mind, the unifying factor that binds together conservative factions from monarchists to racists to Christian Dominionists is the belief that a few of us are born to rule, and the rest to be ruled over:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/05/25/mafia-logic/#mafia-logic

The Reaganite insistence that governments are, by their very nature, incompetent and malign ("The nine most terrifying words in the English language are, 'I’m from the government, and I’m here to help'"), means that conservatives deny the possibility of a Competent Administration.

When conservatives take office and proceed to bungle the most basic elements of administration, they're fulfilling their own campaign narrative, which starts with "We must dismantle the government because it is bad at everything." Conservatives who govern badly prove their own point, which explains a lot about the UK Tory Party's long run of governmental failure and electoral success:

https://apnews.com/article/uk-suella-braverman-fired-cabinet-shuffle-7ea6c89306a427cc70fba75bc386be79

There's a small mercy in the fact that so many of the most ideologically odious and extreme conservative governments are so technically incompetent in governing, and thus accomplish so little of their agendas.

But the inverse – the incredible competence of the best progressive administrators – is nothing short of a delight to witness. Here's the latest example to cross my path: the FTC has intervened in a lawsuit over generic insulin pricing, on an issue that is incredibly technically specific and also fantastically important:

https://www.fiercepharma.com/pharma/ftc-blasts-pharmas-abuse-fda-patent-system-sanofi-mylans-insulin-monopoly-lawsuit

The underlying case is before the FDA, and it concerns the dirty tricks that pharma giant Sanofi used to keep Mylan from making a generic version of Mylan's Lantus insulin after its patent expired.

There's an explicit bargain in patents: inventors can enlist the government to punish their rivals for copying their ideas, but in exchange, the government demands that the inventor has to describe how the invention works in a detailed patent filing, and when the patent expires, 20 years later, rivals can use the patent application as instructions for freely copying and selling the invention. In other words: you get 20 years of exclusive rights in return for facilitating your competitors' copying and selling your invention when the 20 years are up.

Pharma doesn't like this, naturally: not content with 20 years of exclusivity, they want the government to step in and punish their competitors forever. In service to that end, pharma companies have perfected a process called evergreening, where they dribble out ancillary patents after their initial filing, covering minor reformulations, delivery systems, or new uses.

Evergreening got a moment in the public eye earlier this year, with John Green's viral campaign to shame Johnson & Johnson out of using evergreening to restrict poor countries' access to TB medication:

https://armandalegshow.com/episode/john-green-part-1/

The story of pharma is that it commands gigantic profits, but it invests those profits into medicines that save our lives. The reality is that most of the key underlying pharma research is publicly funded (by Competent Administrators who apportion funding to promising scientific inquiry). Pharma companies' most inventive genius is devoted to inventing new evergreening tactics:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/19/solid-tumors/#t-cell-receptors

That's where the FTC comes in, in this Sanofi-Mylan case. To facilitate the production of generic, off-patent drugs, the FDA maintains a database called the "Orange Book," where pharma companies are asked to enumerate all the ancillary patents associated with a product whose patent is expiring. That way, generics manufacturers who make their own version of these public domain drugs and therapeutics don't accidentally stumble over one of those later patents – say, by replicating a delivery system or special coating that is still in patent.

This is where the endless, satanic inventiveness of the pharma sector comes in. You see, US law provides for triple damages for "willful patent infringement." If you are a generics manufacturer eyeing up a drug whose patent is about to expire and you are notified that some other patents might be implicated in your plans, you must ensure that you don't accidentally infringe one of those patents, or face business-destroying statutory damages.

So pharma companies stuff the Orange Book full of irrelevant patent claims they say may be implicated in a generic manufacture program. Each of these claims has to be carefully evaluated, both by a scientific team and a legal team, because patents are deliberately obfuscated in the hopes of tricking an inattentive patent examiner into granting patents for unpatentable "inventions":

https://blueironip.com/patents-that-hide-the-ball/

What's more, when a pharma giant notifies the FDA that it has ancillary patents that are relevant to the Orange Book, this triggers a 30-month delay before a generic can be marketed – adding 2.5 years to the 20 year patent term. That delay is sometimes enough to cause a manufacturer to abandon plans to market a generic drug – so the delay isn't 2.5 years, it's infinite.

This is a highly technical, highly consequential form of evergreening. It's obscure as hell, and requires a deep understanding of patent obfuscation, ancillary patent filings, generic pharma industry practice, and the FDA's administrative procedures.

Sanofi's Orange Book entry for Lantus insulin listed 50 related patent claims. Of these, 48 were invalidated through "inter partes" review (basically the Patent Office decided they shouldn't have allowed these claims to be included on a patent). Neither of the remaining two claims were found to be relevant to the manufacture of generic Lantus.

This is where the FTC's filing comes in: their amicus brief doesn't take a position whether Sanofi's Orange Book entries were fraudulent, but they do ask the FDA to intervene to prevent Orange Book stuffing because "improper listings can cause significant harm to competition and consumers."

This is the kind of boring, technical, important stuff that excellent administrators can do. The FTC's brief is notice to the FDA that it should amend its procedures to ban (and punish) Orange Book abuse. That will make it possible for you, a person who needs medicine, to get that medicine more cheaply and quickly. In America's pay-for-use privatized healthcare hellscape, this could be a life-or-death matter.

There's plenty of things the Biden administration is getting very, very badly wrong, but we shouldn't lose sight of how its progressive wing is making real, lasting change for the better. Competent Administrations are the true peoples' champions. They beat Competent Men every time.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/23/everorangeing/#taste-the-rainbow

#pluralistic

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