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messenger-of-babel · 5 months ago

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With You Again

Summary: Luis made you a promise, and that was that he would come back no matter what. (Luis x reader)

Word Count: 2.8K

Notes: I 👏 LOVE 👏 LUIS. I was so excited to get a chance to write for him so I hope I did him justice. Warning for potentially incorrect Spanish? I checked twice to be sure, and it's basics, but please please let me know if something's off. Minor language.

Ahhh Luis how I miss you TT.

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Luis Serra had always been an enigma of a man.

You couldn't fault that, after all it is what drew you to him in the first place. Sure, maybe it had started out with the intentions of being a one-night stand, a mere hookup. You mean, who could resist the way he looked bathed in the dim lighting of the bar, one arm thrown over the back of the bar stool, other hand tapping the table twice as he asked for a refill. The way that his eyes caught your gaze, sizing you up like prey, causing a charming grin to flash your way.

Sure, that is what had brought you in, but that's not what made you stay.

You stayed because you didn’t realise how warm those arms could keep you at night until you had slept in them. You didn’t realise how soft those fingers against the table could be until he was running them through your hair while you watched TV on your couch, massaging your scalp softly after a long day. His eyes may gleam like a predator, but after the moonlight's gone they soften like an unfurling cat, warm and comforting. The way the smile that screamed 'mistake' could melt into a soft grin when he laughed.

However, for all of his soft edges, there was still a cold shadow that clung to him. You could see it in the way his eyes clouded over on nights you'd been having a few too many glasses of wine, his gaze cast out the window. The tense purse of his lips when you asked him to share about his day at work, the anxious chuckle and flirtatious direction when you asked about his family.

"You want to know more about me, eh cariño?" he'd chuckle, pet name rolling off his tongue like honey. "I'm flattered."

He'd tell you the barest of bones, times about living with his grandfather in a rural village back in Spain. You hadn't pushed when you came up against his resistance. People had skeletons in their closet, that much was to be expected. You just couldn't help the gnaw of worry that dared to ask how many you'd count if you opened that door.

That was the way you ran your relationship, and for one whole year it worked fine. He'd go to work, a small university science lab he had signed up for. Apparently, he had some big wig science gig before meeting you, but he said he wanted something smaller, something less stressful.

"Needed a change of pace." he said to you over breakfast one day, but his jaw was tensed and his eyes flickered back to his food after only a moment.

So, when you came back home one night, you had expected him to still be holed up on the other side of the city. What you hadn't expected was the form of your boyfriend, half-dressed pulling your apartment to shreds. As you walked into the carnage of the living room, a pang of fear springs into your lungs when you see his shirtless form changing into new clothes, his body language anxious and wound. A brief second passes and your mind can only assume that he's cheating, why else would he be in a rush half naked? However, when his eyes meet yours, they're clouded in a different kind of guilt.

"Mi Vida." he greets softly, hands still busying themselves but eyes softening the way they only do for you. Your mouth moves silently as you scan the overturned couch, books thrown over the rug. "What the hell is going on?" you breathe out, eyebrows pinching together. Luis comes in front of you, grabbing your arms softly and sliding his hands up till he grips your wrists. His warm hands cover your own in a single motion, rough callouses of his thumbs pressing into the soft centre of your palms. "Lo siento," he murmurs, bringing his face closer to yours. You can't help the way that blood rushes to your ears, and your breath comes out in soft exhales, warm against his lips. "I didn't want you to worry. I didn't think you were going to be back so soon."'

"Well, I was." you say back softly. "And too late, I'm incredibly concerned."

His lips twitch into a small smile, the candle of mirth in his eyes sputtering weakly. "You care too much about a man like me, cariño." he says softly, tone warm.

"I care just enough." you defend. "Now tell me what is going on."

He dips his head forward, kissing you briefly as he pulls away. "One for the road." he says, eyes sad despite the smile he sends your way. Your blood freezes. Maybe you would you have done better to catch him cheating.

"Are we breaking up?" you ask, incredulous and voice on the rise. "Are you leaving?"

He's still scavenging things to throw into a duffel bag on your coffee table, flipping through books. "I'm not cheating." he says firmly, eyes meeting yours. "Never that. So don't mistake it. But..." he says quieter as he shoves a paperclipped stack of folders into the bag. "I do have to go."

The zipper squeals as he slides it harshly, throwing his eyes to the bedroom before back to you. He sighs. "Mi Vida, I…I'm not as good of a person as you think I am." he murmurs softly. "There's things you don't know about me, things that would make you run for the hills faster than I could catch you."

His eyes look up to meet yours, searching. "But you make me want to be better, no- you make me better, cariño." he says, voice growing in passion. You come around to stand back in from of him, determined. "Then tell me. Tell me what's going on, I can help."

He shakes his head. "I'm doing this for you. I'm doing this for all the people I've hurt. I would never be able to forgive myself if something happened. Let’s just say I, uh, have some loose ends to tie up." he says, hand on your shoulder. "Things back home that I have to fix."

"Back home like…your village back home?" you ask curiously. He winces at that but eventually nods.

"See, when I left, I didn't look back. I didn't leave in a very…favourable fashion let’s just say. But the people there are suffering or have suffered all because of me. Something I did." he says, tone heavy. "I can't…I can't just ignore it. I have to make it right. If I'm to be with you, I need to make it right." he says. There's conviction in his voice, his hand tightening slightly but not enough to hurt.

"Luis, you don't need to do anything." you reply, placing your hand delicately over his. He just shakes his head again, exhaling softly through his nose.

"Please," he says, voice quiet. "I want to be the man you deserve, cariño. I have to go back." he murmurs. The tone manages to bring tears to your eyes, and your do your best to not let them mist over.

"You make it sound like it's going to be dangerous." you chuckle, but there's no humour to it, smile falling a second later. "Oh, Luis," you breathe out. "Just what have you gotten into?" your fingers go up to trace his cheek, and he tilts his face into your open palm. He offers you a weak smile in return. "Nothing I can't handle." he says back in that flirtatious tone you love, making you roll your eyes. They land on the duffle bag, and your shoulders sag.

"You're really leaving huh?" you whisper, and he nods solemnly.

"Aye, cariño. I am." he confirms, stepping back from you. You feel like you should be screaming or crying, anything but the feeling in your chest. It’s warm but heavy, constricting your lungs. It doesn't feel real, like a thick blanket was cast over your emotions. You are only able to do one thing, which is a short nod. His eyes soften slightly as your dejected look reaches him. "It's not forever. Not if I can help it. I'm going to change." he reassures you.

You head into the bedroom silently, the decor faring little better than the living room. You wish you were able to conjure the voice within yourself to scream at him, tell him that you didn’t want him to change. That you wanted him to stay the same Luis who loved you all the same, who woke you up early in the morning with coffee and kept you up all night in bed. There's files and documents scattered about that you've never seen before, hidden around the apartment. The paintings, the pillows, the mattress, all hiding places now clearly revealed by him on his rampage. You step over all of it, instead heading to check something at the bottom of the closet.

Luis comes to stand by the doorframe, now covered in a button up that was draped on the back of the overturned couch. "Cariño?" he calls curiously, eyes worried and face pinched. As you open the closet you can see he hadn't found the box, and your shoulders drop in relief. You pull it out and stand back up, coming over to him. The wrapping is simple. A large, cream coloured box and lid, slightly dusty from sitting there for months.

"For you." you softly offer, holding it out for him. "It was for our anniversary next month. But if you're leaving…" your voice finally wobbles and the tears threaten to burn again. "You…you are coming back, right?" you ask, salty water slipping forth finally. He pulls you into a hug instantly, his heart breaking as he sees you struggle. "I will do everything I can to come home, cariño." he murmurs firmly. "Please know that."

He takes the box gingerly, eyes crinkling in the corners as he takes in your gift. He puts it on the bed and removes the lid, pushing the wrapping paper aside as he picks up your gift. He turns it over in his hands, lips parting in awe. "Mi Vida..." he says, a grin forming. "You've outdone yourself."

In his hands is an embossed leather jacket, colour gradient shifting in the low light. The embossed parts on the shoulders are a light golden colour, highlighting the filigree design that curls onto the back as well. Two sets of buckles and straps sit low so he can adjust it, and the collar is flat and neat.

"I got it custom made." you say softly, heart soaring as he tries it on and gestures with his arms.

"It fits like a glove," he smiles at you. "How do I look?"

A soft smile crosses your face as you come to him, smoothing the lapels down. "I think you look, incredibly, incredibly handsome." you beam. He makes a look of mock offence. "Only handsome? What about incredibly daring? overwhelmingly sexy, eh?" he teases, making you roll your eyes.

"Oh yes, I'm practically ripping my clothes off." you joke arms coming to rest on his shoulders as your arms circle his neck. His teeth flash dangerously as you say that. "Don't tempt me." he teases, ducking his head down to steal a kiss from you.

You slip a hand inside the pocket on the front, pulling out a piece of paper between your fingers. His eyes trace it as you flip it, showing him the photo of the two of you from your first date. He had taken you out dancing but one of your shoes had broken only a few hours into the night, so you had both ended up at his place downing a few bottles of wine over conversation. Your cheeks are flushed and eyes hazy with wine, glass still raised to your lips despite the smile you're wearing. He's got a lit cigarette trapped between his pointer and forefinger; eyes surprised as you snap the photo. Luis's eyes crinkle in warmth as he looks at it.

"You said you didn't any photo that night," he says, lips tilting upwards. "You little liar."

You shrug, patting the pocket you pulled it out of. "I wanted it to be a surprise. So, you could carry around a memory of us."

His hearts warms and he can't help but spin you around. "You really are too good to me," he murmurs into your hair, placing a kiss there.

"I wanted to get you something you'd actually wear. Something fitted and made with all the love I could put into it so it would be like a hug whenever you wore it. I added something too, it's not very good but…" you say, pulling up the collar to point out the wonky brand etched into the underside of it, pointing out the rough stitches of your initials together. "I wanted it to be able to hug you when I can't." you say softly. Luis's eyes mist up before they close softly.

"Te amo," he whispers. "Te amo mucho. I promise. I promise I'll come back. In some way or some form, I’ll be with you again." he slides the photo back into the jacket and pats the pocket. "After all, I got a piece of you with me now, eh?"

He spends the night with you, his hands refusing to be anything but intertwined with yours despite their penchant to wander. His lips brand across your skin like a starved man, his body committing yours to memory. He was gone in the next morning, apartment put back together as much as it could be and bed cold when you rolled over.

Days turned to weeks, weeks to months, and the anxious pit only grew. It made you stay up, looking to the door every night as if he'd come waltzing in, shit eating grin on his face and arms open and expectant.

One night when you do get the knock your heart leaps into our throat, forgoing the slippers in favour of dashing to the door. You open it with eagerness, pulse rapidly thumping in excitement to scold him. To chastise him for making you wait so long, for taking his sweet time away from you.

it isn't Luis.

It's a solemn looking man on your apartment doorstep, eyes cast down and fingers fiddling awkwardly with a piece of crumpled paper in his hands. The man clears his throat, and when he speaks you can pick up his American accent. "Is this the residence of Luis Serra?" he asks quietly, and your heart falls seeing the paper he now holds to eyesight. The paper with your address, written in Luis's familiar chicken scratch.

No.

No no no.

you shake your head in panic but collect yourself and eventually nod. "Yeah." you force out. "It is."

His face flickers with recognition, falling sadly. "I see." he says softly, before reaching for something in his pocket, pulling it out with a closed fist. He hovers it over your shaky one, and something cool drops into your trembling palm. Uncurling your fingers, tears drip down your nose as you recognise his silver rings, flecked with dark copper specks.

"He was my…my friend." the man starts, head bowed. "He saved us. We wouldn't have made it out without him."

You don’t hear the words, the subtext ringing in your mind.

He's dead. Luis Serra is dead.

You manage to stutter out a thank you, leaving the two of you in an awkward silence as he stands in the doorway. "I tried to get his jacket." the man softly says, straightening himself to leave. "He said he wanted to give you something of his, but he refused to take it off. He…he said he wanted to feel you with him when he went."

That’s enough to pull a sob from you, and the man looks away guiltily. "I'm so sorry for your loss." he murmurs, before he takes his leave and you shut the door, sliding down it. You cried into the rings clutched in your hands, shaking. You slipped them onto your fingers, the cool metal too big to sit properly. You clench your fists in a prayer, trying to control your breath. Your thumb rubs across the grooves of the metal, some patches worn from Luis carrying out the same motion.

Luis didn't come home.

but sitting on the floor of your apartment living room with tears down your cheeks, thumbs spinning his favourite rings, you remembered what he told you.

In some way or some form, I’ll be with you again.

You laugh with no joy, fingers digging into the metal. You only had his rings, but that was all you needed to know he was in the room with you.

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rei-ismyname · 28 days ago

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Thor vs Magneto - Journey into Mystery #109 highlights

This cover is fantastic. Look at Thor, the chump, losing Mjolnir to the power of the Master of Magnetism! At this point in time, if Thor stops holding Mjolnir he reverts to Donald Blake, his mortal form, after sixty seconds. I assume that the Brotherhood wear pink on Wednesdays but only Wanda and Mags remembered. I'm pretty sure Mastermind owns no clothes besides that potato sack, but he could use his illusions.

Thor is doing some 60s Thor bullshit, but I don't care. Magneto and the Brotherhood have a submarine, lol. I think he's in the Hudson River, looking for the X-Men of course. His lackeys are going stir crazy playing pranks on each other so he sends them on a mission - to find the X-Men! Once they leave he straps himself into a giant magnet (though not the biggest he's used) and just starts fucking around. It's the best.

The people of New York, including Donald Blake, wig out when objects start levitating. I kinda love that Mags is doing this for shits and giggles. It's not exactly a dastardly scheme. Thor the nerd just has to investigate, blowing off his dinner date with Jane Foster. Mjolnir leads him to the source of the chicanery without effort.

Ahh Magneto, you should have hid your periscope better, or just retracted it when you're not using it. Thor just bashes the door open and barges his way in. To a submarine. That's underwater. It's funny, whatever. Mags gives him a zap to scold him for his rudeness but then thinks he's clocked him as a mutant, so he offers an alliance.

Mags gives Thor a tour of the submarine, showing off his treasures, but the Prince of Asgard is not impressed. He strongly objects to Mags' plans for conquest, despite being royalty of the most imperialist polity in existence. The Nine Realms weren't lining up to be ruled by Odin, dude brutally subjugated them and stole their stuff.

Mags insinuates he's a hippie then wraps him in metal, presumably the stuff Thor smashed to get in.

Thor escapes from that pretty easily and throws Mjolnir at Magneto. It follows him around so he uses his powers to deflect it and leaves it stationary in the air. Bereft of his one good trick, Thor tries to punch Mags and gets laid out. For some reason he runs away, planning to sink the submarine with him in it. Thor's sixty seconds are up and he is now a powerless mortal.

Magneto doesn't know that, though and wonders why he's gone silent. After wondering where the walking stick (Mjolnir) came from, he decides fuck it, and goes to just kill him with metal. The very squishy Donald Blake should have absolutely died right here - if not from the rivets then that huge grille that pinned him to the ground. However, he's the hero, can't just have Magneto kill his ass, right?

Conveniently, he's distracted by a call from the Brotherhood. They found the X-Men and didn't consider the 'then what?' Yeah, that's a failure of leadership. Sorry Mags, you blew it. Check out the optic blast fucking shit up.

Somehow Thor found the walking stick and has all his powers again. Mjolnir's previously unseen magnetic powers drain Magneto's energy or something? Mags gets pounded, it's like he ran out of steam.

The Master of Magnetism drops down a hatch and arms a thermonuclear proton bomb. Silver Age Magneto loves nukes and gets his hands on a fair amount of them. The X-Men, despite not appearing at all, manage to A) be on this submarine and B) freeze the bomb. Is that how bombs work? I don't know. Realising that the plot is bending the laws of physics to defeat him, Magneto bails in his MAGNI-SUB! Sadly the MAGNI-SUB is never seen again, but Magneto gets away. I'm calling this a draw, which is pretty impressive for Magneto. When you consider that the unseen X-Men have an X-submarine and follow him after the story ends, it's like Thor wandered into an X-Men comic and has no idea what's happening. I love that Magneto has a submarine within a submarine. It's some real ACME Corporation shit. Fantastic.

#magneto #thor #x men #journey into mystery #brotherhood of evil mutants #marvel #comics #silver Age #cyclops #iceman #scarlet witch #quicksilver #toad #mastermind

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paddockbunny · 2 years ago

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One

Summary: Aria Armund is hired by Alpine as an "image guardian" for a reluctant Pierre Gasly - AKA she is hired to be his "babysitter". What happens as the season progresses and both of them have their buttons pressed by the other? And what happens when one of them suggests making a rather interesting bet? Rating: 18+. Pairing : Pierre Gasly x Aria Armund (OC) Word Count : 4,418 Trigger Warnings : 18+, NSFW, misogynistic Pierre, language, mention of sex & blowjobs, descriptions of women's bodies etc. 💞Authors Note : This is going to be written from a first person narrative and will switch from Aria's POV and Pierre's POV. No idea how long this will be but I'm considering posting every race day (not sure yet due to work commitments, as usual). OH, and if you want to be added to a tag list then please comment on the newest chapter's before I make a dedicated page for it!!

Pierre

I let out a long, laboured sigh as I slide into the car. I really didn’t want to be doing this. I would much rather have been still in bed with Jessica - or was it Jenna or maybe Jennie, fuck maybe it was Julie? It began with a J in any case. And anyway, who fucking cares?! All that mattered was I had to peel myself away from her this morning to get to the factory on time for this dumb as fuck meeting. A groan escaped me as I suddenly remembered how fucking phenomenal Jessica (Jenna, Jennie or Julie) was at giving head and how I would much rather be getting sucked off right now rather than go to this boring meeting where some big wigs will talk AT me not TO me for a few hours and waste my day.

Ben opens the door on the other side of the car and gets in. He slides into the back next to me and I can’t help but glance over at him as as he checks his watch and tuts about the fact we’re going to be late. I let him stew instead of answering him. There’s no point. Last year I realised pretty quickly he was one of those types of guys. The ones that were so regimented and anal about doing things right and on time that even a minute behind schedule and he would be having an internal meltdown. I just let him do what he wants without input from me. So I pull my phone from my jeans pocket and smirk to myself when I see a DM from a Jocelyn Silva pop up - JOCELYN! Her name was Jocelyn! - so I click on it and it’s a photo. She’s lying in the bed I had just left her in throwing the camera some “come hither eyes” with a tiny little pout dancing across her full (filler injected) lips. But I only fleetingly glance at her face, it’s lower that I pay more attention too and the fact the bedsheet barely covered her exquisite boobs and the deep sun kissed glow from her tanned skin. I’m sure she said she was a model or trying to be a model and really, it wasn’t a stretch to imagine her in a bikini or lingerie in front of a camera. I swallow instinctively upon remembering what she tasted like last night before actually reading the text that went along with her provocative pic.

Jocelyn_S_Silva: 💋 last night was fun Papi, let’s do it again sometime?xxx

Was it too soon to ask if she would be down for tonight? That picture she sent was enough to give me blue balls for the rest of the day. I clear my throat so I don’t laugh aloud at how ridiculous I sounded. No pussy was that good to go chasing after so quickly. So I sent a stock response back;

PierreGasly: until we do…give me something to remember you by?🍑

And click off my phone to stare out of the window hoping I could stay in control of the blood rushing down toward my dick. It was raining (again) in England. The country looked so dull and grey in comparison to some of the other places we visited with the travelling circus that was F1 but they wanted me here, in Enstone for a meeting ahead of flying out for testing next week. Ben’s ear had already been significantly chewed off about that. I was supposed to be at the PSG match tonight, had a date lined up and everything - Aletta Dekker, sister of Lars Dekker the Dutch tennis player. We’d gone out a few times, fucked a lot, but I actually got on well with her. We could chat without feeling the need for it to go anywhere. It was just some fun with no strings attached. I didn’t have the balls to let her down over the phone so chickened out and text her saying I needed a rain check. The irony now as the rain hammered down on the car as we drove down a monotonous English motorway was not lost on me.

It took close to two hours to get to the factory. I never stayed near it simply because there was fucking nothing there so we’d come up from London to the factory and go back when the day was over. It wasn’t like all those years at AT where you could at least be in the beautiful Italian countryside and take in the stunning landscapes out the window, not fields and copious amounts of cows and sheep. When we finally pulled in front of the building where all the offices and important rooms with important people in them were, Ben finally asked if I knew what this was all about. Seriously, he didn’t even question this random meeting until the moment he stepped out of the car and I couldn’t help but shake my head at him. I liked Ben, he had become a good friend over the course of last year. It’s hard not to grow close to someone you see pretty much every day and does everything with you.

“No idea.” I told him as he rounded the back of the car as I shut the car door. “Hope I’m getting a raise for dealing with all that shit last year though.” Ben laughed at my words, which weren’t intended as a joke but must have sounded like one. As two of the guys from Alpine came out from the building to greet us, apologise for the bad weather and issue us inside my phone buzzed in my pocket and I wondered if that was the photo I had asked that Jocelyn girl for earlier. Took her time didn’t she? I made sure I didn’t scoff and tried to stay professional as we walked through the building while the guys I had met a million times before talked about the weather and asked me if it was better in Paris - clearly not clocking the tan I was sporting to realise I had certainly not spent my winter break in Paris.

“We’re just in here, Pierre.” The shorter, more rotund one of the two opened the door and held it open for me. I’d been in here before. It was where I had that big meeting with the big bosses after the incident in Singapore but the less said about that the better. I recognised everyone in the room. Otmar and the like were all sitting around the oval table and got up immediately to welcome me. But my eyes were firmly trained on the mass of long brown curls and feminine shoulders that were still sat at the table facing away from me. This was a new addition. There hadn’t usually been a woman at these meetings before. I glance around and confirmed no one had been fired and I hadn’t found out. So maybe she was just a new PR girl or one of the girls that worked in the offices at the factory. Otmar suggested I take a seat and so I did. The mystery girls head turned slightly, enough that I could make out some of her features. Cute straight nose, naturally full lips and high as hell cheekbones. She had to have only been around 23 or 24 perhaps? But maybe I was wrong and she only just looked younger - I wasn’t the best at women’s ages and my I knew better than to presume I knew anything about the feminine being anyway - anyway, as Otmar started speaking I would be sure to find out exactly who this new addition was.

“As you know, at the end of last season I told you I would be discussing things with some of our bosses and whatnots at the end of year review we have. The big debrief meeting where all the heads of department get together and talk about the good things and the not so good things that happened and how we could look to improve in the future. Y’know, like our race debriefs at the end of a race day….” Yeah Otmar, I know, I’m not fucking stupid get to to point. I pull my leg up and rest my ankle upon my opposite knee while I sit back in the chair and nod in the right places. “Well, one of the things that kept coming up was the tension between yourself and Esteban and the incidents that arose last year.” He means him running me off the track at two separate races, trying to break test me anytime I was behind him, me bashing him in front of the cameras any chance I got but it was probably, the public near fight caught by cameras in Singapore when I tried to get my own back by flirting with his girlfriend that was what he was really referring too.

“Pierre with your results last year there’s no doubt of your future within the team but the negative attention the pair of you have garnered has raised a lot of concern.” “Otmar I…” I was going to tell him it takes two to tango and if this conversation was happening with me it better be happening with Ocon too. He was as much to blame for last year as I was. But a hand made me pause while he continued. “However, after some deliberation on how to resolve the conflict and how we can possibly move in a more positive direction for all of us involved. We have decided to bring in an image guardian.” I look at him like he’s grown another head. What the fuck was an image guardian? And that was when I saw his hand flick over toward the girl that had momentarily occupied my mind before Otmar started talking.

This time, when I looked over at her, she was looking straight back at me with quite possibly a pair of the most striking blue eyes I had ever seen before. A soft, sincere smile spread across her lips as her hand rose from her lap in a “that’s me” gesture. Fuck, I couldn’t help but imaging those eyes staring up at me while she had her lips wrapped around my cock. Which involuntarily twitched in my jeans while I had to blink a few times to make sure I wasn’t daydreaming. The words “image guardian” were still ringing in my ears so I most certainly in reality and not a twisted dreamland. “Sorry, what exactly is an image guardian?” I had truthfully never heard of the term and was one hundred percent certain they were making this up. “Well, we felt that the added pressure that the press and marketing teams had to face last year was rather, unfair to them. Their jobs turned into looking after or, perhaps that’s not the right words, making sure the both of you were looked after which meant some of those PR people weren’t as focused on their jobs as maybe they should have been.” I knew he was indirectly referring to Claudia without actually wanting to say her name but the less said about her the better. “So we created the role of an image guardian specifically to make sure your own PR game is onboard with ours. Someone who can liaise from your side with regards to meeting the needs of the team.”

Things took a minute to click in. He was bullshitting. This was a totally made up job so they could make someone my fucking nanny. “A babysitter?” I exclaimed loudly, my anger clearly evident in my voice and body language mimicking it. My foot fell back to the floor and I leaned in. “I don’t need a fucking babysitter.” I glance back over toward this girl whose name I didn’t even know (but who moments ago I had envisioned fucking) that was now labelled as my fucking au pair. “Pierre, it’s image guardian and we feel that you do.” Otmars voice changed tone. He was now not as breezy has he had been. He turned direct and much more commanding. “This is bullshit.” “Esteban has also been given an image guardian who will consult regularly with Miss Armund to ensure a more harmonious season this year. I can’t stress enough how this needs to work, Pierre. You know what can happen if it doesn’t.” I fucking knew. I had seen how people like Ricciardo and Mick Schumacher had been treated. Fuck! How I myself had been treated a few years ago at Red Bull. But a minder? Really? “And what is it she’ll do?” “I think Miss Armund is best to talk to you about that.”

“Hi…” She was nervous. She took a pause after simply saying hello. I was probably glaring at her like I wanted to set her on fire which might not have helped, but rage ran through my veins like boiling hot lava. “Firstly, I just want to introduce myself. I’m Aria Armund. I was born and raised in France till I was 10 and then moved here to England so if you want to talk to me in French you can, I’m bilingual.” There was a pause when she looked at me and I could tell she was waiting for me to say something polite (probably in French) but absolutely nothing came to mind that I wanted to say to her. She took a little breath in and it was usually while I was giving girls the come on when they got this nervous around me. I rolled my eyes and pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth as the pause seemed to get longer. I observed her straightening up and let out a quick exhale. She seemed to be gathering herself and I clocked her little touch of the bracelet on her wrist as if it was somehow giving her the strength to keep going.

“So basically, what I’m here to do is to look after you. You’re not particularly incorrect in thinking I’m a “babysitter” as you called it. My sole purpose is to keep you out of trouble. To minimise any issues you may have with your team mate and prevent them from leaking into the media. I’ll also help make sure your image doesn’t suffer from all of your liaisons with various….friends, and you don’t end up on the gossip pages as you have done in previous years. I’ll make sure your reputation and that of Alpine isn’t damaged in any way, shape or form.” Where did her sudden directness come from? Her nerves seemed to evaporate immediately. It was confusing it happened at such breakneck speed. But how she managed to take control of herself and take charge was nothing shorter than a major turn on. She could take control of me anytime she wanted. “Ok?” She smiled and it was now on me.

I had nothing to say or at least nothing came to mind as those swimming pool blue eyes stared into mines like they were trying to read my mind. As she turned her head away and Otmar went to speak suddenly a question did pop into my head. “Who does Ocon have?” I asked the question in the direction of her turned head. When she looked away some of her glossy curled locks fell across her shoulder and drew my attention directly to her ample chest. She was a woman - very much a woman - and I had a horrible feeling that Alpine might have been trying to set me up for failure. What with everything that happened with Claudia. “Excuse me?” Otmar seemed confused. “Who is looking after Ocon? You said he had a babysitter too.” In those minutes my question went unanswered, I hoped it would click on someone’s brain about why I was asking and I wouldn’t actually have to fucking say it. “Uh….” Otmar sat back in his chair and narrowed his eyes at me in a fashion that told me he twigged and he realised the intonation behind my questioning. He didn’t expect me to react like this, did he? During the increasingly awkward pause I fully believed that he was imposing this girl on me as a way to trip me up so he could get rid of me at the end of the year. If Esteban got a guy babbysitter then there was my answer. He would be getting off with his dickhead behaviour last year. “Mr Ocon’s guardian is Kyle Gilby.” Aria spoke up and I let out a quick exhale of air. Why the fuck did this not surprise me? I knew it. I could sense it from the way Otmar was staring at me. Ocon gets someone he can talk to, level with and I get stuck with her? Typical. “Is there a problem Mr Gasly?” Fuck her calling me Mr Gasly. Girls only usually called me that in the bedroom, not a boardroom.

I pretend there isn’t but there is. The whole thing is totally fucked but what can I do? I don’t want thrown out my seat so I have to play ball. And if that means I have to have a babysitter then fine, I’ll do it. This whole thing was feeling like a massive, risky, fucked up game of temptation? I made an audible scoff because I know where this is going and I know she won’t last long meaning they’ll probably get their way. I can’t help the fact I was born a flirt and women always fell for it. I’d give it two or three months before they’ll be having conduct meetings with me after she breaks her fraternisation contract clause after firing her for sleeping with the person she’s there to manage. It’s happened before and it will happen again. After all, it’s their own fault for hiring someone that would look more at home in Playboy or Sports Illustrated than working in an F1 team. They seriously couldn’t have hired someone less, tempting? They couldn’t have given her to Ocon and at least pretend they weren’t setting me up for failure?

Thankfully the meeting was over rather quickly. There were orders to go with her somewhere so she could do something or other and go over stuff but by that point I was zoned out. I cancelled my plans for this? They could have just told me over the phone. I didn’t need to be here in person when it would have been a quick email. I try not to sigh when I lean forward in my chair to get up but notice her move first. When she rises from her seat I can’t help but cast my eyes over her body. A perfect rack was hidden behind a satin-y type blouse and her smart, tight trousers did little to stem my attention away from her perky, peachy rear practically begging to be spanked. I was right. Playboy or Sports Illustrated. She would look so pretty on her knees. Give it a few weeks, I tell myself. By Miami she’ll be begging for me. I can tell.

Fifteen minutes later we were sat in a smaller, more bland impersonal office while she tried to convince me to hand over my social media passwords. “Mr Gasly, I assure you that your accounts and information will be safe with me. I simply need access in order to keep on top of any potential Alpine related business.” She was getting me riled up at this point. “Last year I believe there were, incidents, over social media with some questionable comments?” She was referring to the emoji’s wasn’t she? The PR girls laughed about them last year but she said it with a straight face. “I simply need to be able to delete anything that would be unsavoury toward your own reputation and the team.” “Telling people my favourite sex position through an emoji is not damaging to my reputation or the team.” I retort back with a smooth laugh. I thought it would throw her but the silence and stoney face I was met with made me push it even further. I smirked before adding; “it’s the dog by the way.” Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I couldn’t recall the last time I wasn’t able to flirt and smooth talk a girl into at least raising a smile. But there was nothing from her. “It’s the dog because my favourite position is doggy…” “Yes, I gathered that Mr Gasly.” She hastily shut me up and I noticed her roll her eyes. Was she not into men? Maybe that’s why my forwardness wasn’t doing it for her.

“Please, your passwords.” I watched as slowly she placed her pen on top of a notepad and pushed it across the glass topped table toward me. Her eyes didn’t leave mine. They stayed trained on me as if she had gone through military training. Unflinching. I would have been complaining if they weren’t so fucking captivating. You could get lost in these eyes.

“Earn them.” I glanced over toward Ben and smirked again. It was a game at this point. I couldn’t help myself. “Excuse me?” “I said, earn them.” I didn’t even know where this was going or why it was coming out of my mouth. I just went with it. I liked how women would squirm a little when I turned it on and I desperately wanted to know she was eating out of the palm of my hand, so sue me. But if I expected her to crumble like all of the others she surprised me. She sat back in her chair and took a deep breath before exhaling. For a brief second I thought I won and I managed to rattle her but unfortunately for me, apparently not.

“Listen, looking after a twenty-seven year old self confessed playboy is not something I thought I would be doing when I got this job so if you think your flirting will have an effect on me and I will pull a Claudia, was it? Then you are very much mistaken.” It was I that was rumbled. And she had to mention last years indiscretion by name so she had clearly been told all about it - or had she read about it online and didn’t need anyone else’s judgment about it to pass her own judgment on to me? “Now…Mr Gasly, your passwords.” Touché. Fucking Touché.

I reached for the pen and notepad and noted how much I felt like a child. It was as if I had been sent to the Alpine School’s principle’s office for being naughty in class. As I wrote down the passwords for her highness, my phone buzzed again in my jeans pocket and it suddenly l dawned on me that she would see everything I received. She would see all of the DMs I was sent along with the mountains of nudes (such as those waiting on me from last nights hook-up) that various girls sent me, mostly without a single shred of prompting. I should probably have felt a little embarrassed or ashamed by them in all fairness but for some reason - probably because she was acting like a fake ball buster she actually was one - I wasn’t. Let her look. There’s probably a fair few suggestive ones of myself on there she could find too if she really wanted too. I cursed the route of thought my own mind suddenly drove me down as now I was imagining her sliding her hand down past the waistband of her tight trousers to get off on the risqué pics I had floating around in some conversations. But she didn’t seem like the type. Fortunately for me the passwords were enough to appease her, for now. She smiled - a fake one of course - and said that was all, I could leave before adding she would would see me at testing. She would be at testing? This girl was really going to be sticking to me like glue, wasn’t she?

Thankfully, this whole fiasco was clearly coming to an end and I glanced toward the door and was desperately trying to think of something smart to say and a way to get out of here. I didn’t want to hang around for any longer than I needed to and certainly not long enough for her to continue getting one over on me or getting a metaphorical upper hand again, but it looked like she had and there was nothing I could do. When I happened to look toward Ben I realised he was smirking and clearly holding back a laugh. He was married and so never really joined in (nor understood) with the flirting and flustering behaviour I was king at. Now, after I had lost the opening match against her, it was as if he could read my startled little mind and I certainly didn’t like that. I arose out if my seat opposite my new babysitter and stared at her for a moment. I couldn’t help but wonder if she had ever worked in F1 - or even just a sport - before because she didn’t act like how all the girls usually acted around guys in sport. She simply seemed unimpressed. Stoic almost. “Goodbye, Mr Gasly.” A normal girl would be turned on by saying that over and over again. By now imagining how it would feel to be bent over the glass desk and having me rail them into next week. But she used it formally, professionally and without a single shred of sarcasm. I just about managed to get to the door to the office when my phone buzzed loudly one more time and I paused to remove it from my pocket.

“I hope that isn’t something I am going to have to get involved in?” Her sweet, soft voice echoed from behind and my sudden laughter filled the room as my brain had come up with the most perfect of perfect responses. “Not unless you want to make it a threesome?” I didn’t hang around long enough for her to respond and mentally high fives myself for my quick retort. She lead herself into it and my brain couldn’t catch up to my mouth. She may have been hired to be my babysitter, but that didn’t mean I had to make it easy for her.

#pierre gasly #pierre gasly fanfiction #pierre gasly fanfic #pierre gasly fic #pierre gasly series #pierre gasly x oc #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly imagines #pierre gasly multi chapter #f1 smut #f1 fanfiction #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagines #f1 imagine #f1 series #f1 x oc #bet trope #grumpy sunshine trope

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quinndominion · 5 months ago

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Urns, Urns, Everywhere. And sometimes Un-Armed Statues.

Another hitch. But not with the set dressing so much. I realised that none of my Widespot men had body hair, so I guess the controller wasn't in the files when i first loaded up Past Widespot. Which is weird...that's staple cc, goes with me in every setup. And Nelson has his... (Maybe I did altSurgery to get them re-costumed? Would that do it? Remove their overlays?) Anyway, had to switch over to Widespot proper to find out which body hair they each usually have. (Even though I have no present intentions of re-shooting a damn thing...I know I might once i've pruned all the pics and it's only one or two where a hairless arm is visible.)

But I was still, am still, in the game with the cc for RESPECT for which I only carried over some stuff from my Widespot folder so...urns...

...more urns...and a whole lotta statues. I don't even know what any of these are meant to be replacing. Around the pool especially. The fence is intact, so what else was there? This house doesn't exist yet in the timeline I'm working on so it couldn't possibly matter. But seeing this has had the knock on effect of making me less obsessive about the floating artifact at the Beech house. I mean, I did save and move on like I said, but I could sense my brain still trying to solve the mystery of the missing cc. And now it's just like, eh, whatever. Could be worse.

And while I was at it, a few pics of Wrong Widespot.

So...Rich has a want to drink Lana...and a fear of being struck by lightning. Actually worried about a smiting there, Rich?

It's funny to me because I was just writing an aside about Rich's willingness to dispose of his women who displease him. But actually giving him the benefit of the doubt (of a sort) to the extent that once he considers them disposable they become simultaneously not worth the bother. Maybe I was wrong?

Even though Una's got such distinctive features - like, this couldn't be any other baby - the randomised hair and that dress make her look very not-Una to me.

Same with Penny. No one else's Penny looks remotely like mine, if only because she's not green. But even though the genetic cc is intact and probably most of her makeup, she still doesn't really feel quite like my Penny.

She also happens to want to be struck by lightning here. My Penny seldom asserts her knowledge-sim-ism like that. And she wants to flirt with Rhett and invite him over? Like, what, really? Let's get you back into your own proper world and, hopefully, proper mind, pronto.

Dora popping up in this scarf is, unfortunately, giving me ideas. But, we'll see.

Aw no, Daytona, no. Why they do that to you? This hair on her is like her worst nightmare vision of completely losing her sense of self and all her pride in her old age. It's not even grey, it's platinum blonde! Almost like she's trying to emulate that ex mother-in-law of her son's and came up far short of the mark. And Sandy's mother was a woman that she could not stand, by the way. So this really is like nightmare fuel. "Get this damn wig offa me! And don't you dare show this to nobody." Too late.

#Quinn rambles #sims 2 pictures #Widespot #did something stupid and wound up in emergency #tedious and probably out of it for the rest of the day but I'm okay #and figure why not post my the rest of my nonsense instead of leaving it to become irrelevant in drafts

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thedivaking · 5 months ago

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So~ These were my free thoughts/reactions for Hamilton while watching😂😂 (I'm not including all scenes cuz I can't remember what I thought lol)

While watching, I did a lot of research (Not for the two Georges tho, I knew who they were )

" waw, Hamilton is so outspoken"

*me googling Hamilton* HE GOT SHOT? WHO SHOT HIM??? (I'm Trinidadian, I don't know American history so well 😫)

"That headband guy, Mulligan is so cool!"

"Gosh, Poor Burr. And he's gonna shoot Hamilton at the end~ well"

"Ohh Seabury! He sounds British. I think he's the King's representative. Seabury sounds like a British name already"

*listening to guns and ships* this gives Eminem.

"Sees king George"~ "I know him"

*listening to You'll be back* SLAYY GEORGE!!!

"You're making me maddd/ when you're gone, I'll go mad~ love the pun. "

"The tea which you hurled in the sea..... ~ ohh it's a Boston tea party reference!"

Listening I know him~ "aww his crazy little laugh~ aaaa"

"The Schuyler sisters!! Work! Now who's who? Thank you very much for singing your names"

Listening to what comes next "kg sounds so sad. The last da da day da really touched me"

"Awesome! Waw! ~ that's when I realised that groff is gay because of his voice. And he slays. I love him ❤️❤️.

"Gosh Hamilton, you could have kept it in your pants"

Maria enters*** (is that a kidnapper? She was in darkness so that's why 😫😅)

I thought she was sent by Jefferson or someone else to dirty Hamilton's water~

"Is it Maria or Mariah? I don't know"

(My name being Mariah 😭)

I don't have any time to seduce hamilton (I'm having tea with king george, and waiting for the damn pamphlet to be published!)

James Reynolds ( he reminds me of this lawyer who lives in the area I'm from 😂~ sorry)

Thomas Jefferson is so sassy. And Daveed is just really talented. But the real TJ scares me.

"Awww Angelica. I'm sorry for her"

"Where's George Washington's powdered wig?"

"Why do you write like you're running out of time~ me while writing my fanfics (its mdzs related fanfics btw. I haven't written any Hamfics)

George Washington is giving older guardian vibes. Like old man vibes 😫.

"Where's the man's wig~ Gosh, Washington is so deep! Dying is easy but living is harder"

King George is so cute 😌 and I already learnt about him from Historytok so. And obviously I love him in queen charlotte.

But I have only learnt about his life with porphyria. His family life~ descendants~

" John Adams???? Who's that? He spoke to Kg so long ago🥱"

It's like I got into Hamilton when I heard some of the songs all over tiktok and YouTube. So I decided to watch the musical❤️.

Don't worry~ I know about the history refs now🤭

#hamilton #alexander hamilton #hamilton the musical #hamilton confessions i guess #king george hamilton #samuel seabury

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asbestos4president · 5 months ago

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Ham episode 2 "Whoopsies" transcript

Below the read more due to spoilers

[soothing music box lullaby mixed with Indie snoring]

[crash]

Indie

(waking up. Realisation that a spaceship has crashed through her roof)

AAAAA

Patty (genuinely apologetic) Oh my god, ma'am, I am so sorry for crashing through your roof at 5am on a Wednesday morning… Could you please stop screaming? I don't want the neighbours to think someone's been murdered.

Indie Someone has been murdered! My husband is under your spaceship!

Patty Oh darn oh darn oh darn… Um, I don't really know first aid but I've seen that one House MD episode where House does surgery on his own leg in a bathtub, so I could try-

Indie No, no, absolutely not! I've been waiting for him to die for ages so I could study his internal organs for signs of extraterrestrial life! I wish you had killed him a little more neatly, but as an academic I'm used to working with what I've got.

Patty Oh…kay?

[knocking]

Butler Is everything alright in there, Mrs. First Lady?

Indie Everything is fine! My husband is alive and I have zero alien visitors! We're just trying something new in the bedroom!

Butler Pardon?

Indie BDSM!

Patty

(at the same time)

Remodelling!

Butler That sounds… Rather advanced.

Indie We've been experimenting with, uh, wallpaper play! You get some paste and a roller and then you-

Butler I don't need to hear the gory details, ma'am.

Indie Then give us some privacy!

Butler Does the Mrs. first lady project that she shall be finished in time for her scheduled flight, or shall I inform the astrophysics conference that you send your regards but you find yourselves rather… tied up? And unable to come?

Indie Oh, I'm sure we'll be done in seconds. You always are, aren't you, dear?

Patty Uh.

(trying to make her voice deeper)

Yes?

Butler Very well. I shall return in an hour to escort you to the airport.

[door closes]

Patty Mrs. First Lady?! Oh dear oh dear oh dear… Did I just-

Indie Yes, you just killed the president of the United States, a noble and charitable act that billions will thank you for. No need to brag about it. Can you pass me that scalpel?

[star spangled banner begins playing in the background]

Patty Please don't turn me in! I mean, I'd understand if you did, but it was really an accident and I don't want to go to jail and we all make mistakes when we're young and nobody actually liked him that much in the first place if you don't mind me saying so, Mrs. First Lady. I mean, I guess you're Miss First Lady Now, because I killed your-

[extremely loud incorrect buzzer]

maybe I should stop talking.

Indie Maybe you should. No, I'm not going to turn you in.

Patty So I can go? I'm really terribly sorry about your husband and all that, but I was kind of on my way somewhere when I ran out of fuel and dropped through your roof. Do you want money? I have money. It's really only about thirty bucks because I spent most of it on minecraft skins. Shoot.

Indie Are you stupid?

Patty Yes!

Indie Oh, good. That'll make it easier to convince you of my plan. Listen, random alien lady. You just killed the most valuable specimen in my collection and you're going to cost me several thousand dollars in roof repair, which is rude of you. The least you can do is put on this wig and pretend to be my dead husband so I don't have to miss my conference just to attend his boring funeral. Pretty please? By the way, you should think very carefully about this decision because I have some serious dirt on you.

Patty I see! The fake marriage gambit, where I sacrifice my dignity in the early game to gain a later advantage. That might have worked on me if I hadn't spent most of my life forced into a situation where the only opening I knew how to play was the hide in a closet defence! Send me to jail if you want, I will never pretend to be a man again!

Indie You don't have to. It gives us a better cover story, anyway. Why is the president suddenly twenty years younger and also a beautiful woman? That's just what estrogen does to a motherfucker. Here, put on his tie.

(in an enthusiastic voice)

Wow, the resemblance is non-existent!

Patty I do look good in a suit… And I do like free holidays… And you are threatening to send me to jail… Alright, fine. One condition, though!

Indie You're in no position to negotiate.

Patty

(unfazed)

I get to do an accent!

Indie No accents under any circumstance.

Patty Please? I always wanted to do theatre in high school but it clashed with chess club.

(doing a dubious Russian accent)

Hello, yes, it is me, the president of United State. Please direct me to your highly classified government secret.

Indie I want a divorce.

Patty We just got married! Hand me the wig.

[aeroplane announcement jingle]

Announcement Hey everyone, you're on a plane! That's pretty cool! There are, like, emergency exits, but I'm not sure where they are. Um, if the plane crashes, that's our bad and we're really sorry, but flying a plane is harder than it looks, okay? So before you get mad at us for dumping you into the pacific ocean, I'd like to see you try and pilot this thing. You couldn't even get it off the ground! So, yeah, think before you criticise others. Also, my aunt Martha runs a funeral home, so text your loved ones to tell them they can use the discount code PLANECRASH28 for 20% off your funeral arrangements. Just kidding, Martha doesn't do handouts. You're paying full price just like the rest of us lowly mortals. Thank you for flying with United!

[ending aeroplane announcement jingle]

Patty Whew. Man, going through customs is scary. I always feel like they're gonna find a bomb in my luggage. Good thing the worst thing I had in my bag was a jar of peanut butter.

Indie Tell me about it! I was so worried they were gonna hold us up because of the dead body in my carry on!

Patty The WHAT?

Indie Relax. I remembered to drain all the blood out beforehand, otherwise we would be way over the liquid limit.

Hey, stop looking at me like that. What was I supposed to do, just leave him there for the cleaners to find? I folded him up real neatly and tucked him in my backpack.

Patty

(Miserable sigh)

You have a plan for getting rid of the body, right?

Indie Of course!

Patty Then, I guess it's your move. I'm gonna nap for twenty hours. Wake me up when the refreshments come round, okay?

Indie Hey hey hey, nononono. This is my first time meeting an alien, and I need to collect data! Let's start with the basics. What's your name?

Patty Patty.

Indie My name is The Noble and Honourable First Lady of the United States Her Holiness Independence Day, but I guess you can call me Indie since we're married now. Where are you from?

Patty Porirua.

Indie Wow! What planet is that?

Patty Like, Wellington-ish.

Indie

(no idea where that is) Ah.

Patty Listen, I'm not even an alien. I just have purple hair and lacklustre social skills and a bad habit of finding myself in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Indie You literally flew in on a spaceship! That's alien behaviour!

Patty It was my ex's spaceship.

Indie Were they an alien?

Patty Yeah.

Indie What type?

Patty Lesbian.

Indie Nice of them to let you borrow their spaceship.

Patty Yeah.

Indie Reeeeal nice.

Patty Yeah, it was.

Indie You stole it, didn't you?

Patty

(almost simultaneously)

I think it's time for me to ask you something.

Indie Oh? You want to know how I scored the president?

Patty How did you know?

Indie It's all anyone ever asks. No, "how was your day, Indie?" No, "can you tell me a fun fact about Jupiter's moons?" Only, "how do I find a man as rich and spineless as your husband?"

Patty He only lost his spine this morning. It's a recent development. I watched you reach in and pull it out.

Indie Semantics. Anyway, here's the story. Ever since I was a little kid I was always fascinated by space. I wanted to be an astrophysicist until I realised it was all math. Then I wanted to be an astronaut until I realised the food was shit. Finally my mom asked why I couldn't just get a degree in something sensible like art history, so to spite her I went to medical school and passed with all A's. I wanted to get a job doing alien autopsies, but when I brought it up at the hospital job interview the hiring staff got real quiet.

Patty Right.

Indie They suggested I seek psychological counselling and gave me a pamphlet. I suggested they seek medical attention and gave them a nasty bruise. As I was running from security, I glanced down at the pamphlet and was struck by a powerful vision!

Patty That's an interesting way of describing getting tased.

Indie No! It was a powerful vision of a gap in the research field! Nobody has ever studied the psychology of aliens!

Patty Let me tell you, they have some serious issues with emotional vulnerability.

Indie Is this about your ex-girlfriend again?

Patty

(lying)

No!

Indie Uh huh. Now, let me show you the one thing I learned from my degree. Put on these sunglasses.

Patty Huh? Okay.

[laser sound effect. Glass shattering.]

Patty Wow! The glare at people so hard their heads explode strategy! They banned that at most major tournaments after an incident in 2008. I think you killed the guy behind me.

Indie He'll be fine! Unless he isn't. Then he won't be fine. Anyway, I learned it from my thesis supervisor. It was the look she would give me everytime I dropped my work off on her desk. She would take a long sip of her coffee, remove her glasses, wipe them down with a cloth just in case what she was looking at was a streak of dirt instead of the culmination of my many years of educational struggle, read it again, then let the words sit with her for a second, then look me in the eye and tell me, "Miss Day, this is not a quasi-experimental study investigating the impact of parasocial engagement with an outgroup on reducing intergroup prejudice. This is the first draft of a science fiction novel, and you misused a semi-colon in paragraph five."

Patty Then what?

Indie Then I stormed out of her office and headed to a cafe on campus to drown my sorrows in overpriced coffee. And who did I lock eyes with across the room but future president of the United States, Beau Jiden himself!

Patty And he grinned, and everything about him was perfect, and you fell in love instantly?

Indie What? No. He was eating yoghurt with a fork, and I thought, "man, what a freak!" The only logical conclusion was that he must be an alien, so I took him out on a date to study him up close. My suspicions were confirmed when I took him to see The Thing and he spent the whole movie crying and shielding his eyes from the screen. I figured he must have felt really homesick, so I patted him on the back and let him throw up in my empty popcorn bucket. I didn't realise he was just some guy until four years into our marriage, and by then it was too late. If we got divorced, I'd have to admit to my thesis supervisor that she was right all along, aliens aren't real, and the psychology of boring old men has already been studied so extensively that there wasn't a single neuron in his brain I could wring a research paper out of. Oh, we're here!

Patty We still have over half of the flight to go.

Indie I told you I had a plan to dispose of the body, didn't I? See that lake down there? Now, you hold the bag while I-

[glass smashing]

[smooth jazz]

[static]

[classical music]

[static]

[short extract of somebody reading The Emperor of Ice-Cream by Wallace Stevens]

[static]

[heavy metal]

[static]

Reporter Tonight, our breaking story comes from 30,000 feet in the air, where the first lady Independence Day was sucked out of an aeroplane after an unexpected window failure reportedly caused by her smashing the glass with a brick. She was saved by her wife, president Beau Jiden, who is looking great these days, by the way. The president was able to grab her by the ankle and hold on tight until the plane could safely land. When we reached out for comment, the first lady, who was being treated by hospital staff for a dislocated shoulder, just said "whoopsies. My bad". The only other major casualty resulting from the incident was the loss of the first lady's luggage, last seen plummeting out the-

[static]

Asbestos But it doesn't say anywhere in the rule booklet that Chokeholds are prohibited!

Ham It's kind of an unspoken rule. Let go of Stanley!

Asbestos What about body slams?

Ham No!

Asbestos Double knee facebreakers?

Ham No!

Asbestos A tiny little eensy weensy spinning crucifix toss?

Ham Absolutely not! put him down!

Asbestos I'm going to write a strongly worded email to the inventor of Uno.

Ham I'm sure they'll be delighted to hear from you. Hey, do you see that?

Asbestos See what? Me throwing you out of the ship? Yeah, I see it in the not too distant future.

Ham No, falling towards us! It looks like a backpack!

Asbestos Open the hatch and catch it! There could be snacks inside! Ooh, or a bomb!

Ham I got it, I got it.

[thump]

[zipper]

Looks like it's just clothes and stuff. Ooh, and a jar of peanut butter! Does anyone have any allergies?

Asbestos Boring. Toss it back out.

Ham Wait, wait. There's a label. Do you know anyone named Patricia?

Asbestos

(laughing nervously)

I'm sure there are lots of people named Patricia. Give me that?

Ham Do you think the owner would mind if Stanley took this jacket? He thinks it's really cute.

Asbestos Whatever. Listen, I'm bored of Uno. Let's play Monopoly. Last man to lose both his kidneys wins!

Ham Sure, I mean who needs kidneys?

Asbestos That's the spirit!

[static]

[hospital equipment beeps]

Indie All in all, I think that was a resounding success!

Patty I would hate to encounter your interpretation of a devastating failure.

Indie Well, we got here in one piece-

(Patty coughs)

Mostly one piece, we dealt with our little problem with style and panache, and tomorrow I get to spend the whole day relaxing at the astrophysics conference while you're off playing golf with the prime minister of Australia.

Patty What?

Indie Oh, you thought we were here for fun? No. It's an election year, sweetheart. It's time to reaffirm some existing allyships and give the papers something to gossip about before the primary debates on Thursday.

Patty The what?

Indie Why don't you get some sleep before your big day tomorrow. I got the staff to bring in your stuff- your bag should be in the corner somewhere.

Patty If I had just remembered to fuel up before I left, I would be at the Idaho Potato Museum right now, admiring the-

Indie What? What is it? Hey, are you mad at me? Please don't be mad at me.

Patty Indie. We threw out the wrong bag. Your husband is in here, and he's starting to stink.

[beeps speed up and flatline]

Credits

Reporter Mrs president, do you have any response to the allegations that the voice of Independence Day is Jenny Wang, the voice of Patty is Monkozia, the voice of Asbestos Le Guin is Bulk, the voice of Hamuel Burger is Spikes, and the voice of this reporter is Dan Mac?

Patty

(doing The Accent again) Uh, well, that's, uh-

Reporter What about the damning claims that Jenny also voiced an airline announcement and Spikes also voiced a butler? Would you say this is indicative of the podcast's lack of budget or merely a testament to the incredible range of these talented performers?

Patty Um, can I say "no comment?"

Reporter Are you ever going to address the rising concerns of the general public that the editor of this podcast is Sarah, the episode art is by Bulk and the script is by Spikes?

Indie The president isn't taking further questions at this time!

(to Patty)

Come on, run!

#hamuel burger and the american dream #hamuel burger #hampod #transcripts

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riderofblackdragons · 10 months ago

Text

Day 8 Alt Prompt: Hostage Situation

Ok so once again, I'm sorry that this is a day late, I could not think of anything to do with the og day 8 prompt. Still, I had a decent time with this, its a little au where Esther captured Klaus and tortured him instead of Elijah, just exploring that a little.

Also yes, that is a mental time loop that Klaus is stuck in, if it gets a bit confusing at the end.

Klaus watched his brother turn to face him, and suddenly he was facing him as a child. He tried to cup the boy's face, the young face staring back at him like Klaus was still his beloved little brother, barely able to get up to more mischief than occasionally painting things he shouldn't. His hand slipped through his brother like he was air, like Elijah wasn't there at all. Their surroundings were white, he noted absently, the rest of his mind panicking. This was his big brother, small and young now, and he couldn't do anything.

And then the boy aged, and Klaus could do nothing but watch as Elijah aged, his face flickering through expressions seconds apart, his arms moving as they must've done during life, the baby fat smoothing down as he grew into the adult Klaus knew him as. There were many, but Klaus couldn't help but notice how cold Elijah's expression grew, cold as he didn't think it had been when they actually growing up together.

He wasn't sure how time worked here, but it felt like an eternity, watching Elijah grow and change and start to turn his body from Klaus. At some points, he'd turn his head back to Klaus, as if to invite him to come with, but it rarely lasted for long before the back faced him once more.

Elijah's hair flowed down, and up again, as the fashions changed, and his own tastes switched through the centuries. He looked like Klaus was used to seeing, at least, even if he knew it was because of the vampirism. The moment Elijah had dropped, blood appearing on his body, Klaus had jolted forward, even though he knew he couldn't get there. The vampirism had kicked in with the next expression, although the moments between had felt like another thousand years to Klaus.

But Elijah kept moving, almost too fast for Klaus' eyes to keep up with, even as he watched his brother closely. He got up from his first death, and Klaus was only able to watch as Elijah hid his own confusion, going from scared to controlled.

Klaus couldn't remember Elijah ever being scared, not for himself, not even when the evidence in front of him suggested that he had been, at least at one point. A part of him relished it, the evidence in front of him that Elijah had, even just at the start, been frightened of what he was. Of what they'd become, thanks to their parents.

The centuries flashed by, only shown with the changing of Elijah's clothes and hair. Klaus could still remember when the fashion required wigs, and Elijah had merely compelled the nobles they'd surrounded themselves with to think he was wearing one. If there was one thing Elijah was proud of, it was his hair, or maybe it was just that he was arrogant enough to not cut it when he didn't have to.

Klaus' attention was caught again when Elijah started crouching more, as though he was helping someone smaller than him. Marcellus, he realised, looking at the suit his brother was wearing. In the early days of their acquaintance, before Klaus had gotten bored with sharing, and brought Kol out to play with. He never did find out why Elijah had backed off, but the care on his face said that it had to have been a difficult decision.

Of course, Klaus knew he wouldn't get the information even with this added context. Elijah wasn't the kind to share things unintentionally, and if he'd kept quiet all these centuries, Klaus wouldn't get it out of him now. And if Marcellus knew, which Klaus personally doubted, he would've told his benefactor.

The time moved on, the fashions barely changing. Elijah decided to stick with suits, the same style for all of them, the colours switching and the rest remaining the same. Grey crawled up his skin, and down, and back up, Klaus realising it was the dagger affecting his brother. Down again, another colour change, and then… there it was. When Klaus himself had daggered Elijah, for daring to try and kill him.

It seemed over and done with quickly, the grey crawling back down Elijah's face. And then there it was, another shocked look, as Klaus had daggered him again. Given him to Marcellus, a bargaining chip he should never have played.

But it meant that this would be coming to an end, soon. Hopefully. Klaus didn't remember how he'd ended up here, but he had the feeling it had something to do with his mother, and her miraculous return to the living. And that would be soon, so he'd get to stop then. If she let him. There wasn't much she could after that, except let him out.

Klaus watched his brother carefully, and saw his return to the living. Another few colour changes, and then the apparition stopped changing. This must've been what he'd looked like, when Klaus had been placed into this. It would be over, then.

The image of his brother reached forward, and stroked his cheek. Unconsciously, Klaus leaned into the touch. It may have been a fake, a creation of his mother placed into his mind, but he'd never been in the habit of rejecting affection from Elijah, and Klaus wasn't sure he ever would.

The false Elijah smiled a little, the crooked thing his real brother showed so rarely, and stroked his thumb over Klaus' cheekbone. It may have looked like his older brother, but Klaus could hear his mother's voice when it opened its mouth, and asked if he'd learned his lesson. If he would go against Elijah, and hand over his daughter to her to die.

His rejection angered her, and he didn't know what happened, but he was there, standing in front of a child version of his brother. He didn't know how he'd gotten there, and he wasn't really sure how many of his memories were even real.

Klaus watched his brother turn to face him, and suddenly he was facing him as a child. He tried to cup the boy's face, the young face staring back at him like Klaus was still his beloved little brother, even as his hand slipped through him like he was air, like Elijah wasn't there at all. Their surroundings were white, he noted absently, the rest of his mind panicking. This was his big brother, small and young now, and he couldn't do anything.

Outside his mind, Esther smiled in satisfaction at her hybrid child. It was less magic than she'd thought, to trap him in his mind, to make him watch his brother throughout the years. His most treasured person, she'd directed. She hadn't expected the image of her second son, but she supposed it didn't really matter.

As long as Niklaus joined her in the end, and helped her put an end to her sister, it would all be worth it. Esther ignored the twinge in her heart at the pain she was causing her children. It had to be worth it, and they would all understand, once Dahlia was dead. They had to.

#tvd #to #the vampire diaries #the originals #klaus mikaelson #for once no kol or elijah #esther mikaelson #whumpay

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im-not-a-l0ser · 11 months ago

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Hi, today sucked, lemme tell you all the reasons it sucked in chronological order

I woke up at 1 am and read for a while. I did not get back to bed until 5 am.

I woke up approximately 15 minutes before I had to be out the door, so despite my planning to take a shower and wear a Victorian esc clothing today (for throwback Thursday, dumb school thing) I couldn't.

I didn't eat last night, so for the first time this semester I got breakfast from the cafeteria and it was not good.

We were practicing hand and arm massages in class for state board and wow, I fucking hated the smell, feeling and all around company of the lotion we were using.

I didn't charge my phone last night so I had my phone (and laptop) plugged in for my last two periods of school.

It was warm enough that I didn't need my jacket (a comfort item) so I took it off and put it over my backpack. It fell on the dirty bus floor while I was napping through the half hour bus ride.

My laptop wasn't plugged in properly so it was nearly dead when I got home.

Dad said we were going to the library to file my taxes. Okay, gotcha, I won't change into my home clothes, I'll just switch my binder out for a bra.

My sheets were dirty and I didn't want to lay in my gross bed with clean clothes on so I stripped my mattress and brought the sheets downstairs, where I find the washing machine on a self cleaning cycle. It was at 0, but I guess that's not done?

I notice that my little siblings who had lice for a couple days have put clothes in the laundry basket downstairs, which has my prom dress in it. Prom is on Saturday and I am literally too afraid to dig through their shit to find the dress.

I return to my room and work on chapter two of a story, but it's getting late and my dad hasn't called me out to the van yet.

I only learn my dad is home when he sends a picture of dinner to the gc. I leave my room to ask when we're doing taxes; he tells me he's eating and that I should eat too.

Twenty minutes later (like 7:50 pm at this point), we finally start my fucking taxes.

Very long annoying process, to learn that state taxes should not be filed through this site for me. It worked just fine for my sibling. I ask dad if we can do it tomorrow and he says taxes are due in four days. Whatever.

We go to a different site to file my state taxes where I try to register twice and it denies me both times for my laptop having a VPN. I do not control that; it's my school laptop and it didn't even process that's what the issue was for like 10 minutes.

Dad tells me to go to bed. He's tired. That's when I'm allowed to go to bed, when he's tired.

I return to my room and realise my sheets have never been put in the wash, and I can't sleep without a blanket. And for obvious reasons, I only trust that one blanket right now.

I shove it in the wash for a half hour load, but it doesn't fucking matter because my sister's shit is in the dryer at 45 minutes. She doesn't have an empty basket in the bathroom to put the dry stuff into should it finish and someone else needs to. Her shit is going on the floor in about 20 minutes.

I'm laying on my bed, very cold, just waiting for the fucking wash to be done so I can go to sleep. Except, I know it won't be because my sheets take like two hours to dry at high heat, which also means I won't have my comfort jacket for tomorrow.

I just want to go to sleep and can't because I'm stressing over the idea of going to school in not my comfort jacket.

Honorable mentions: My cosmetology textbook has really misleading information regarding synthetic wigs and its pissing me off. I was supposed to go to Walmart today so I could get breakfast for tomorrow. We had a test in English that gave me a lot of anxiety.

#tw vent #vent #venting #my dad isnt a bad guy im just annoyed #i might be having a panic attack #i genuinely dont know

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ujunxverse · 11 months ago

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hello, my name is r! I understand that you're done with enhypen now, but i really hope you could give me a chance; there's nothing else i could ask for.

two years ago, i began actively using tumblr—which I've had from earlier but didn't really use—a fee months after getting into enhypen around late 2021, the dimension dilemma era. it was love at first sight for me when i saw riki in that wig; you know the one, the really cute ombre blonde wig. the first member to catch my eye was sunghoon, but once i saw dimension : dilemma Charybdis riki, it was all over for me.

as for enhypen/kpop (but i really only pay attention to enha, occasionally i spare attention for txt, skz, nct) tumblr, you, or rather your fic "a distant journey" was my first ever love. i recall reading it about the first few days i was on here, and i was completely new to kpop and/or real person fanficfion. a distant journey shattered my heart into pieces, and built me back up into life again. i cried to it and reread it at least twice. I've never once forgotten it, i even made a playlist in my phone's music player with the few songs i had just for it and named after it too.

back then I wasn't familiar with how tumblr worked, so i quickly lost the fic when you deactivated orpheyeux. I didn't remember your url. but afterwards, i read welcome and you were orochxi, i believe. I HAD NO IDEA YOU WERE THE SAME PERSON. i did leave a really long reblog if you remember! i was devastated (in the best way possible;your writing is pure magic) and i recall you saying it's not your position to say what of heeseung's fate after the ending. i saw my comments again and i cringed—so fucking embarassing and annoying, now that i look back on it. but I don't regret that i showed you how i felt about your writing, i just hope i didn't leave a negative impression. i apologize again. it was so fucking cringe, i wish i worded my overwhelming emotions better.

anyhow, i should've realised that the two most profound stories ive ever read within the first half year of my being on enhypen tumblr were written by you. they were both very impactful and left a dent in my life when everything else i read didn't even come close to leaving a touch, a stain, a scratch, a mark. nothing. i could barely even remember now what i read back then save for a few fics, two of which were yours.

i thought you were inactive, based on your oiwa blog. ive only just found you active and well now. i was sad to see that you've discontinued writing for enhypen, but i completely understand and respect your decision. it simply doesn't bring you joy anymore, and letting it go was for the best. im sorry that it happened to you, the fandom expansion that let in shitty people and changing the knitted community you were familiar and were happy with. but i can say that i am glad you are still writing, and writing so much at that too! i truly wish you well and happiness. you're awfully creative, and i admire that so much. i look up to you and your penmanship abilities.

i am sorry for taking so long, here's where i get to my point. i saw your orpheyeux archive and saw that you had several fics, a sunghoon one i believe about 47k too! all of which were gone, and my curiousity peaked. is there ever a chance you will archive or reupload elsewhere all your previously published works? i felt so overwhelmed at finding you again and upset myself over finding out that only a few of your works were still available to read. i know you've left it all behind and that the possibility of your return is still undetermined, but i wanted to have hope. that's all i want to know.

thank you so, so much for taking time to read my very long ask. even if you choose not to reply and delete it, i accept it. i genuinely wish you so much love and admiration, your writing prowess deserves the recognition.

🪽

hey! i'm sorry i got around this ask very late. nice to meet you, r!

first off, i just wanted to thank you for taking the time to read my works! i'm glad that they had such a profound effect on you and that you continue to remember them for quite a long time. a distant journey was just a tribute piece to the 3.11 earthquakes because i've built a tradition to write one every year when i was still active. i wrote one for yuta in 2021, and i wrote one for riki in 2022.

ah, that's a first! usually people can tell it's me with the format or writing style, but it's a relief to know that i can manage to hide my identity very well. and don't worry! you didn't leave a bad impression at all! it was a nice thing to have a charged response to my work, given the nature of the themes i tackle. don't be embarrassed at all, really, and i'm honestly glad i was able to see an honest reaction to my work.

thank you so much for the compliment, it's really the highest form that i can receive. i don't necessarily mean to leave such an impact through the works i write, but i'm glad you think of them that way, and i'm also happy that the two works i've written are important to you. i was the same as well, where a lot of what i read don't really impact me in such a way or are remotely memorable. i think the few that i can think of off the top of my head is the really popular beomjun fic on ao3 and a few works from my vkook days and some really good satosugu aus i found on the site as well. the problem that a lot of fanfics often go through is oversaturation, and as someone with more of a literary (fiction and non-fiction) background, it's really difficult for me to get into works unless they read like novels, which tends to be a problem for a lot of oneshots i come across.

unfortunately, i think even oiwxa will be shut down for good after i migrate umazane misli onto ao3, where i'll primarily be writing from here on out. i just don't like the audience on tumblr in general, seeing as it's not necessarily a site made for longer-form works or chaptered fics. tumblr was always more geared towards headcanons, art, and drabbles even in its hay day, and if i want to rekindle my writing or find the write audience while acknowledging the problems i have with this site (plagiarism, prominence of y/n or reader insert fics, preference for college!aus or more romantic/sexual works), i think it's been long overdue for me to move to ao3 for good. i find that it's less of a fandom issue now (though i do agree the people on here are just horny), but more of a demographic issue. the stuff i write was never catered towards the audience here, and as a result, my constant disappointment didn't lie with the fandom, but how the site worked in general. and with the influx of people from twitter migrating and only liking works without reblogging or adding any comments, i think it's time for me to leave, though i did have fun here while it lasted.

once again, thank you so much for your kind words! i will reupload some of my works as i think i've written too much to let any of it go to waste, but i won't be uploading them here. they'll be on ao3, under a new fandom (either txt or zb1) and will be formatted to remove the reader. i think my biggest qualm was how restrictive reader inserts were in my creative process, and it would be nice to have some leeway and freedom with that. i know those who read on tumblr aren't the biggest fan of ships, but if you want to read my works, you're free to visit my ao3 and start there. the sunghoon fic, miracle aligner (which was originally written for doyoung) will also be on there, but it's yeonbin.

much, much love to you as well, and once again, thank you for taking the time to send me a message. i appreciate every single word.

best,

vivian

#ujuasks #r #anon #r anon

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appreciatingtokrev · 2 years ago

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hello, i am happy that you're back and feeling better! ^^

er, i am a bit disappointed but since time had passed, i have realised it was the right move. that is sad but if both parties naturally drift apart, there is always a chance for it to rekindle later on even if it is years on in the future. but moving on does tend to be the less messer route despite it being hard.

i did that too for HSR, all players are probably guilty of that lol. i believe most fans prefer GI over HSR and there is a lot more GI contents on here. i've never played HI so i don't know the fight mechanics 😭

that sound like such a long system ;-; on my end, you could complete a five year degree (like medicine) and be finish before 24/25 or do a three years degree and a master on top before 23/24. at least you still have time to figure things out.

that is true and a part of koko probably died after the fire incident, he probably just needed mikey's approval to join though.

tbh, i just realised his colour palette (outfit/appearance) is really nice too and does contrast xiao's one. maybe, browse online for inspiration? or go to the hair salon and ask the staff? i did that for dying my hair, they said i need to bleach it 4 times where i went lmao.

but i've heard the anime/manga merchandise is pretty cheap in Japan? that is a nice start to your collection and i'm sure the tokrev dolls will be a nice finishing touch when you feel motivated enough. but don't force yourself. i think if she was a kpop fan, i would found it less shocking because they are something else lol. that is a sensible idea and others may mistake it for a bell's bike? if it jingles that loudly and you're walking behind them. i hope you are ready then, styling wigs does seem to be a craft of art in making.

have you found your birthday twin yet? or am i still the closest one? and i actually gave up on makima. the fanart is something else but you can't help but feel intrigued like you said. i dislike her for the same reason. that's great! have you tried taking it to a tailor and get the sleeves shortened? i did it for a blazer and it worked.

ah i’m glad, me too! :) <3

i very much understand. it hurts, but sometimes the right thing to do just isn’t what initially makes you the happiest,, and it’s still for the best.

hm, true. maybe one day lol. rn we see each other maybe twice a year, and go visit a museum together. it’s nice, but certainly not how i pictured my life a few years ago haha. tho i’m content with our relationship the way it is, i think.

understandable understandable lol. i think my pref for genshin does stem from me having played it for longest by far + it being the game that got me into gaming, which both ends in an obvious bias. but hsr has been v fun so far as well! honkai impact fight mechanics are more similar to genshin than to hsr, but the controls for the whole game don’t involve the mouse, only the a, s, d, w, i, j, k, and l keys (if i remember the keys correctly- the point is you only need a keyboard to play) lol. makes it easier to play it in class.....

okay tbh i did repeat/got pushed back more than once 😭 most people here probably are finished with a five years degree at 24/25 too, but a bunch each year will be one/two years older bc they had to repeat. and i’m gonna be one of those lol. but yeah, i’m glad i’ve still got time to decide on what to study bc there’s too many things i’d like to do... omg i used to have a classmate who’s a kpop fan, and she pretty much made her locker at school into a kpop shrine plastered with photos and filled with merch lol. she also was the one to introduce me to kpop funnily enough.

true. i’ll figure out how to make it make no sound before wearing it in public, then i’ll be fine. bc i do think the earring looks funky even when silent hehe.

i have a (bad?) habit of thinking i can do anything i want to, so... wig styling can’t be that hard, now can it..... and there’s a first time to everything anyway.

no birthday twin for me, you’re still the closest. if i ever do find one, i’ll make sure to tell you dw lol.

no, i haven’t been to a tailor yet, but i might try that once! i just hope it wouldn’t be too expensive afhjfdj

#finally omg #so sorry it took me so long to reply #but look! i did it!! :)#☆—`ask #anon: z

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gcballet · 17 days ago

Text

Nah, you're not crazy, an SF based sitcom attempting a lot of high-minded tropes above it's station for over thirty years is going to have a lot of space for theory.

Very long post to follow bc you got me thinking, man. I went back and added headings bc I was getting lost.

We All Love/Hate Lacan

First off. You mention the hologram as a disabled, queer body, and then immediately Lacan. Just to reassure, everyone has trouble using Lacan rather than his descendants. Everyone skips him. Lacan is WEIRD. A lot of his published work is like, lecture transcripts, and also he liked trying to formulate language into a kind of algebra. Also he was French and lots of crucial puns get lost in translation? He's great but also he sucks.

Quite cynically, and you didn't ask, if you have the interest, I would recommend clipping out one solid but brief Lacan quote you definitely understand and can use to illuminate your Edelman readings, literally just to score points and to make clear you understand Edelman in his context. But I would consider this time contigent bc Lacan is such a pain, there's a reason no one reads him.

Good ways in are the section on him in the Poststructuralism chapter in Peter Barry's Beginning Theory, or the section on him in Catherine Belsey's Poststructuralism: A Very Short Introduction, both of which have audiobooks on Spotify. If you have more time to put towards him, Zizek's How To Read Lacan is supposed to be quite good.

I bring it back to Lacan because mentioning him and holograms made me realise that (hologram) Rimmer is not himself - the signified, but the sign of himself. Lacan has this whole annoying s/S algebra thing which I have only ever vaguely wrapped my head around. Kristeva I think is the one to properly term it semiotics? Might be misremembering.

You know that one Magritte painting, Les trahison des images?

You see what I'm getting at. The object is not it's name, a rose by any other name etc. In death (and disability as you imply), Rimmer is reduced to the sign of himself. If Lister is the holding pattern for human life, is hologram Rimmer the holding pattern for living Rimmer?

[Ouroboros]

[Made a point of looking up the phrase 'holding pattern' and it's an aeronautics term for when planes circle an airport awaiting landing clearance. Killing time, circling, flying. Red Dwarf the ship coasts indefinitely throughout the series, looking for a safe port. Something there on coasting through life?]

Hologram Rimmer could then be argued to be reconfigured as the sign for a completely different signified than human Rimmer, when he 'becomes Ace'. He doesn't become Ace, not in a literal sense. What happens is he begins to signify Ace. Hologram Rimmer is the sign, the picture of the signified Arnold J. Rimmer (deceased). They adjust the sign (Hologram Rimmer) and therefore on a semiotic level Hologram Rimmer becomes Ace Rimmer, a different signified. Who is, of course, also a deceased signified, and being repeated through infinite signs of himself.

[There's an unrelated but hard queer read in Stoke Me a Clipper on gender performativity, but that's Judith Butler and a different path entirely. The bit where he makes he voice deeper. Wears a wig. Tries to pass. It's not subtle.]

That's a very unpolished and inexact summary of how I would approach Lacan for Red Dwarf at any rate, be it of interest.

Kristeva/French Feminism

Regarding your question about Kristeva and the maternal body as the site of meaning and language, yeah, that sounds correct. It has been a while since I've done a Kristeva close read, but the idea of the female (maternal) body as the source of language is a recurring one in the writing of the French feminists (Kristeva herself is Bulgarian but she writes French and gets bundled with them). The two other major players on the topic are Hélène Cixous and Luce Irigaray. Cixous coined the term l'ecriture feminine for it, and they go very loose and poetic with it. Cixous has a whole thing of women writing out of the body, or writing in milk. The idea was finding a language for women to fully express their experiences.

I think in 2025 it's immediately obvious why l'ecriture feminine isn't especially popular now; it does a lot of reinscribing binaries and bioessentialism, and they got called out by the Anglo-American feminists at the time. While in the 80s it was revolutionary and necessary for legitimate radical feminist thought, obv that discourse has been somewhat co-opted by terfs and other bad actors. I'd go careful using this stuff purely bc Lister inverting (I wouldn't necessarily say SUBverting, as you do, but I'm not sure why I feel this distinction) the binary of maternal body has potential, and I love the idea of his body as a site of meaning for humanity, bc it's bourne out by the show narrative, you do risk just reinscribing when you reverse the binary and make the male the mother, rather than breaking the binary entirely and creating multiple wider, queer fit categories, which is a better contemporary goal. I loved l'ecriture feminine so much at undergrad bc the French feminist school all write with so much poetry in their theory, but my supervisor warned me to go careful too, bc it hasn't aged amazingly. Kristeva isn't judged as harshly as Cixous though, people don't usually need to justify using her work.

Death as Disability

I do love the idea of death as the ultimate disability of the body - mind-body disconnect? The kinds of madness and odd behaviours Rimmer demonstrates when he glitches or alters his program - (Thanks For the Memory, Holoship, Quarantine, Trojan, how about brain in a jar Lister in Out of Time?) [Oh shit transhumanism? Uh, what's her name. Shit - Cyborg Manifesto - DONNA HARRAWAY. Queer bodies in there and all, she's superb for your purposes, make sure you've got her]

I assume the 'death isn't the obstacle it used to be' convo from Balance of Power is part of your way into that? And Holoship perhaps, with it's evocative stuff about not noticing the disability when it's normalised and provided for? Disability existing in context of the environment. George McIntyre in The End introducing the concept of holograms with the linguistic distancing you hear in workplace sensitivity discourse.

[The End]

Edelman - The Child

Jumping back to what you've said about the (hetero) normalising effect of the image of The Child - the implicit linear (straight) future of them, you're bang on the money with that I think. The two occasions we see Lister's children (himself (played by Charles's brother or cousin iirc, so theres a metatextual biological reality there) in Timeslides at the pub gig, then multiple series later in Ouroboros, and Jim and Bexley in Future Echoes and implied later in Parallel Universe and the opening text crawl of Backwards)

All of this is done through queer (incestuous) reproduction, either through effectively a T4T mpreg, or an IVF for a vaguely queer couple of KK2 and hologram Lister. The Child can only be witnessed by looking back in time. The Child is (literally) oneself (Lister, Fathers and Suns etc) in this queer reading, and not actually a literal product of heterosexual reproduction. The twin who is killed offscreen in Future Echoes looks enough like Lister to make Rimmer think it was him - Lister's offspring are completely indistinct from him. [The term non-euclidean reincarnation comes to mind - I think that's after Jung? Or it might be some esoteric woo woo (pos) from The Whole Rabbit. The concept of us being literally our parents reincarnated hence generational trauma?] I hope I'm roughly following what I imagine your rationale is with The Child here, having not read Edelman. I'll get back to the break of the circle/loop you suggest in a bit.

Just skewing off that, what about Rimmer's weird fantasy of heteronormativity in Better Than Life? The fact he can't seem to imagine a successful heterosexual relationship without the enormous burden of reproduction and responsibility. I *think* that's the only time we see Rimmer in a father role, besides maybe Rimmerworld? But again, that's super queer and incestuous with the clones and his goal of producing a biological twin sister to have sex with going awry.

Cruel Optimism

With the 'cruel optimism' concept, just to flag and check you've also caught Rimmer's 'become an officer' goal there. I'm sure you have, because it's parallel to Lister's impossible goal of Kochanski, but I wanted to make sure. Also aliens. Rimmer really wants there to be aliens. I think there's something there about belief. Rimmer is deeply unspiritual, argues with the Universe in Krysis, but the prospect of aliens and high technology is his kind of hope. I suppose Legion would come in there, perhaps not 'curing', but certainly shifting how his 'disability' functions.

Gnosticism Tangent

Regarding the gnostic reading, this is more something relevant for solid SF context reading than anything political, or especially relevant for your methodology, but it is somewhat obscure, so I'll explain. The framework of gnostic mythology crops up a lot in 20th C SF, and I think perhaps that's why there's a way into it via Red Dwarf, again through that trickle down of themes and structures, rather than anything deliberate by Grant Naylor. PKD was a huge fan of it, and I know they drew on Blade Runner/Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? somewhat, so that's probably how the comparison crept in. My knowledge of gnosticism is mostly from the quite casual toned podcast The Whole Rabbit, the hosts of which have done gnostic readings of The Truman Show, A Scanner Darkly - I think at one point they read Finding Nemo. It's one of those lesser known mythologies which is pretty influential on a certain kind of writer. It's mostly used in allegory so the readings don't really 'achieve' anything per se but they are fascinating.

Will say as well, mentioning the Demiurge and the Ouroboros serpent together, yeah those two images fit very naturally.

Anyway, dw about my gnosticism tangent. It's not relevant to your thesis, I just find it fun, and I think it's a useful frame for digging out unnoticed details by defamiliarisation when you're used to better known Biblical narrative.

Ouroboros and Status Quo

The kind of cyclical repetition of the Ouroboros being a focus for you, have you looked into how the genre of Red Dwarf serves this? The show is cartoonishly slavish to the Status Quo (Rimmer immediately losing his human body at the end of Timeslides) but has a progressing narrative as well. The moments the show acknowledges the consequences of previous episodes vs which stuff is ignored is a site of a lot of narrative power. The quick write out of Jim and Bexley at the top of Backwards springs to mind.

The sitcom status quo absolutely fascinates me as a trope because it's so invisible and yet is utterly horrifying when extrapolated (WWDITS recently explored this quite effectively). The self-destructive loop Lister (and Rimmer) enacts isn't just the Ouroboros, but format derived, and therefore the viewer is complicit. Lister isn't growing because that's funnier. I'm thinking of the ending of Fathers and Suns especially, where Lister returns to drinking and games, implicitly failing to be the father he needs for himself. He will need to repeat the cycle again, learn the same lesson again. In Krysis Rimmer and Lister discuss Kryten's character development, revealing that despite 'breaking his programming' he actually hasn't changed much. He's a sitcom character. He can't. But the in-universe implications for a static unchanging identity are horrifying. If Rimmer (hologram) didn't age with Lister, what would that look like? A mid-20s appearing hologram bickering with the 50-60 year old last human? How desperately bleak.

On my current rewatch of X and XI (I'm just into XII now), I was struck by how there's one or two stories which echo the older phases of the show. Back to Reality/Back to Earth, Polymorph/Can of Worms, Legion/Krysis, Meltdown/Cured, DNA/Siliconia, Me²/Rimmerworld/Officer Rimmer. Some of these comparisons are more superficial than others, but the relevance is in the repeated relearning of elements of identity. The rewriting, retelling of the same stories. On a shallow level, that's simply a function of a long running sitcom, but within the text it speaks to the cyclical lives they're trapped in.

You get it, repetitions, the same lessons over and over. Red Dwarf is comparable in age to probably the most important (and most repetitive) sitcom in history, The Simpsons, and there was a recent episode (like September 2024 recent) I'm thinking of called Bart's Birthday (s36e01) which explored the idea of status quo breaking. The episode was framed as an AI generated finale for the show (something which I believe was relevant to a viral tweet? Can't remember), in which different characters begin to leave and change. Bart is about to turn 11, but begins to panic at his birthday party, and goads Homer into strangling him, at which point the show freezes and resets. Recent Simpsons is weird. It's as unsettling as it sounds, and the horror of it is purely from responding to the status quo and bringing it into a meta space. It's a massively underestimated structural trope in my opinion, and if it wasn't part of a low form like a sitcom, would have merited far deeper study as a structural device by now.

[Broad tangent, have you ever watched/read Washburn's Mr Burns: A Post Electric Play? Amazing piece of theatre, feels Red Dwarf and absurdism adjacent in terms of apocalypse and sitcom and repetitions. Linked a great video essay by Kyle Kallgren below]

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The whole format of Red Dwarf as sitcom is cyclical and repetitive, despite deeper progress into space and short term changes, and it's easy to write that off as an accident of genre, but I think there's something in it to support your Ouroboros readings. Unlike The Simpsons, the characters in Red Dwarf age, and there are changes, but they have to learn the same lessons repeatedly, as any long run sitcom character does.

[Balance of Power]

Absurdism

Lastly, regarding the theatre of the absurd! I had a smack in the face watching the opening of Samsara the other day - Rimmer repeatedly throwing dice and getting a two and a one at impossible odds. I wracked my brain and I found it - it's a rehash of the iconic coin flipping scene from Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead by Tom Stoppard! Killing time, playing games, arguing over semantics. Yeah, that's Lister and Rimmer too.

Conclusion

I love a back and forth with someone else who knows theory, please please please let me know if you want anything looked at or listened to. You're more than welcome to drop rants at me any time if it helps to have someone who knows Red Dwarf, or just for a bit of encouragement.

I'm deeply inexpert on queer and crip theory, so couldn't really do more with that for you, but if you want to elaborate on any more of that and how you plan to use it, I would love to read that particularly.

I really am enjoying this discussion, and hope I've given you something to spark progress.

gcb ❤️

[Me close reading theory]

I'm so troubled by Lister continuing to pursue Kochanski after learning she's his biological mother. That genuinely bothers me.

#would really love to hear more from you #hope i haven't overdone the notes for you #i am once again thinking of my postgrad diss super who spent 20 minutes of a tutorial telling me about her favourite BTVS podcast #theory is as much in service of low forms as the high and literary #something something shakespeare something mr burns postelectric etc #i did this instead of my own reading and i regret nothing bc we cannot work in isolation #Youtube

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