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messenger-of-babel · 2 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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ratcash-wasgud · 8 months ago

Note

So like you know that one anime my dress up darling? Yeah so basically Mizu AU that but Mizu's a photographer who loves anime stuff and reader who's her fav cosplayer

Reader does a lot of risque cosplay stuff though and makes Mizu blush having to take close up shots of her body :3

hey lovely!

i've never seen this anime lmao, but this sounds good so I'll give it a go !!

I also made some audios for this one, beause RAAAAAAAAHHHHH I'M FERAL

(btw this is pretty short, and kinda unfinished but I didn't just want to leave this one in the drafts forever.)

"Okay, could you...hold your hand up a little? Like...to your face?" Mizu mumbles from behind the camera, her tounge darting up to wet her lips. She has done this a couple times before, doing a free photshoot for you while you're in cosplay. Not only because it has both of her favourite things: Anime and pretty women, but because well...it's you.

She has seen your cosplays online a couple times, so when she ran into you on a con, and she asked for you number to do a photshoot later, and you said yes despite her suttering, she almost wet her pants in excitement.

She loves taking pictures of you, in and out of cosplay too. During your three months of knowing eachother Mizu has developed a fat crush on you. She has realized that under you lovely exterior, you're so very sweet on the inside. You always smile even when her camera isn't in her hands, and you bring her sweets and little gifts everytime, as if you owe her anything. If anything, she owes you for letting her gawk at you.

This time is different though. Mizu couldn't take one single usebale picture so far, because her hands are violently shaking. The reason is simple...today's cosplay is Misato, from NGE. But this time, you have your Misato wig and makeup on, but you're outfit consist of a towel wrapped around you, referencing that one scene where she runs out of the bathroom. Why? It's niche. And you love niche stuff.

"Okay uhm...sorry, can we...take a quick break?" Mizu lowers the camera, needing to take a deep breath. She has never been this close to an almost naked woman before, and it's fuzzing up her brain. Plus that almost naked woman happens to be you, so she definetly needs a breather.

"Yeah, sure." You say, straightening your back and getting out of the pose you were just doing. "Is anything the matter?" You ask, giving her that sweet, but so oblivios look she love-hates. It's unbelievable to her that someone as hot as you can be so unaware of the effect she has on people.

"No, no, I just...it's just...I need a bathroom break." Mizu says, not really wanting to admit how insanely attracted to you she is. It would help sooooo much if you knew by default. She escapes to the bahtroom like the coward she is, and washes her face. She checks her phone just to see the groupchat blowing up.

Taigen: omg are u dead yet?

Akemi: staaawp she is probs nervous leave her alone >:(

Ringo: Is she still there? Tell her she is pretty and her smile shines like a thousand suns!

Taigen: dumb ass advice

Taigen: tell her her ass looks good

Akemi: can u stop acting like a dog

Taigen: why it usually works

Mizu just sighs as she reads the texts. They are definetly not helping. She comes out of the bathroom in the same helpless state she was in before. When she sees you again, you're leaning against the wall, the towel slipping a little lower, giving Mizu a clear picture of where your areola starts. She swallows hard, but it's somehow dry and tries her best at wiping her sweaty hands in her pants in the least obvious way.

She must've been staring for a while because you hit her with a "What?" and a chuckle.

"Uh...nothing." Mizu blinks rapidly to snap herself back to reality. "Just uh...you know." Mizu awkwardly gestures at her chest, micking a pulling up motion. "Your uh...fans might die if I took pictures like that."

You look down, realising your towel has slipped. "Oh...Oh God, sorry!" You akwardly laugh as you pull it up. "Jesus...that's so embarasisng." You say, trying to laugh it off.

"No, no, it uh....shouldn't be embarssing. It's fine." Mizu says, waving her hands around in a way that's supposed to be dismissing. "I liked it." She adds quietly.

But, it somehow made it's way to your ears, as you lifted an eyebrow.

"You...did?" You chuckle, tilting your head.

"Uh, I..." Mizu is stunned. Fuuuuuuuuuuck nobody ever hears what she's mumbling why now? Why the most embarassing thing ever?

#blue eye samurai #bes mizu #blue eye samurai mizu #mizu x reader #blue eye samurai x reader #bes x reader #mizu fanfic #fanfiction

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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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dolljunk · 2 years ago

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HooDude has always been a fave character of mine because he was so whimsical and silly, but the SDCC set was something I just couldn't justify buying because plush toys are so outside of my scope as a collector.

But recently I've been on a Monster High kick (in case you couldn't tell lol) and wanted to give making him a try as an experiment. I actually started a Hoodude custom a few years back, hoping to just make him a jointed figure but I wasn't happy with the direction I was going in.

I cobbled together a DC Superhero Girls body and some assorted spare parts before sculpting a head. I realised I could marry the two concepts of a hard plastic doll and a plush toy by setting about sewing an outer "skin". I can not fathom how to sew a plush toy but I do know how to draft a mostly fitting outfit so I went about approaching it as a fursuit using the foodwrap/masking tape method.

I used a mix of denims to match the different shades of his body and add some texture but I made sure to use a jersey knit for his head because that's how it's textured in the CGI movies.

For his hair, I used some minky fabric cut into strips and sewn them to his scalp in a similar way one would glue on wefts for a wig. I also did some freehand stitching for his face and used these two buttons for his eyes.

I'm really pleased with how he came out because I was worried about drafting the pattern for his fabric components totally freehand and making sure it fit snugly. His hands are actually removable so I can switch out tops and such if I really wanted to.

His jacket was a masking tape pattern put on top of his fabric skin since I wanted him to have the option to wear normal clothes and I'm glad I have a working hybrid of the two ideas.

#hoodude #monster high

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messrsrarchives · 2 months ago

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heyyy you dont have to answer this but how did you know that you were transmasc rather than gender fluid?

HI !! first of all, i really appreciate how you worded this 😖😖 i've been asked this so much but always along the lines of "have you ever considered that you might be genderfluid instead?" when i have makeup on, and i'm currently putting on glittery eyeliner so this is so relevant !!

for me it was just that my "femininity" wasn't connected to my gender at all. i had a big hyper'feminine' stage before coming out to try and,,, repress it ig? i thought maybe i just wasn't pretty enough as a girl and i had to try harder. full face everyday, massive lashes and eyeliner, split dyed long hair, the clothesss. obviously, didn't work. but what i didddd realise was that i wasn't upset about it. the skirts, makeup, hair, any of it. none of it made me sad, it made me feel nice. but she/her still felt wrong.

i trialled all pronouns with close friends, switched them out every now and then, and he/him was the only one that stuck.

AND !!! the big bit was my cis male friend wearing makeup once and i was like "this is what i want. i want to wear makeup like this."

this probably doesn't help, but it just didn't fit me. i don't feel like a different gender when i look more 'feminine', i just feel nice. but my voice, body, and facial structure? those didn't make me feel nice. so yeah, came out as a trans man.

like i even own wigs and i like putting on a full beat and a wig sometimes, but i still identify as a man when i do that, i just like how i look.

idk. this probably does not help at all, but the pronouns were the big thing for me, and seeing cis men express their "femininity" made me realise that i could identify in a way that fit, and still explore those parts of myself. it was a longgg journey, like i knew years before i "came out" that i was trans, and tried so many other things because i didn't want to admit it. but here we are.

#asks #gender norms fear me #anyway my eyeliner came out pretty nice i think #came out is in '' because my school did the honours xxxx #thx babes xxx

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quinndominion · 1 month 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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welldonebeca · 11 months ago

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the devil in the marble (2)

Summary: First love is always a little foolish; you look at the person by your side and plan a life with them with the ease a child has at imagining a fairytale. It’s feverish and impatience, with new experiences and new feelings, and a comfort one has never felt before. After being asked to pose for a statue months before the 74th Hunger Games, Cato falls in love with its beautiful and odd sculptor. WC: 1.4k words Warnings: Fluff. Canon compliance. Autistic Character. Flirting

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee or subscribing to my Patreon. It’s just $2 a month and I promise you won’t regret it.

masterlist

Chapter 1

You admired the work in front of you, the fruit of hours and hours, months of dedication. A full-body sculpture of a man dying in the arms of his lover, their eyes in a lock as she watched over his last minutes of life. It was to be sent to the Capitol tonight, and you'd be left to wait for your answer.

"Wow," you heard at the door.

You stood from your seat, holding the documents you were supposed to finish filling, and Cato walked into the classroom, his eyes right on the marble image before you.

When you realised you needed a model, he was the only one who had agreed to help you. Cato had actually offered himself on your second day of search, and only protested a little when you asked him to wear a wig. Of course, he wasn't there for the whole thing.

Cato was one of the biggest competitors to volunteer in the games this year, it was his last year and chance, and he wasn't going to let it slide, so you had a lot of images of him, both flat and holograms, of details and of his whole face. He had only actually posed for you a few times, so the sculpture was a bit of a surprise to him, he hadn't seen it fully done.

"When you said you were good, I didn't think you were this good," he mumbled.

You put a paperweight with your things and then set your bag right beside it, so as to not forget it, and walked to him, though his blue eyes were too focused on the marble.

"So that's how people see me?" he asked.

You looked at it. It was a close reproduction. You'd kind of made his nose a little shorter than it was supposed to be, and you were half sure he didn't have such plush lips, but there was only so much you could fix after a certain point.

"Kinda," you agreed. "Roughly."

He smirked a little, looking at your face.

"I'm big," he chuckled.

You giggled. Yes, he was. Both tall and strong.

"My mother called you very well-fed," you joked. "Made my brother jealous."

Cato looked at you and then at the statue again.

"You're good," he spoke at last, sounding impressed. "This... if you gave me a hologram and told me it was of real people, I would totally believe you."

You smiled, flattered. He was very sweet.

"I gotta apologise," he chuckled. "Cause I kind of doubted it would be good, I thought you were just..."'

But he stopped himself, shaking his head as you raised your eyebrows.

He thought...?

"Sorry," he said quickly. "I shouldn't... sorry."

"What?" you asked.

You'd passingly known Cato since you were a kid, in the way you knew most people from your school. He lived in the same neighbourhood as you, passed by you on the corridors and never lingered around.

Admittedly, as a kid, you had a little crush on him because he was one of the very few people who talked to you in class and tried to play with you when you had a hard time interacting, but that was over a decade ago.

Still, you were grateful that he had kept that kindness and positive feelings about you.

Cato shook his head.

"Never mind," he told you. "It's nothing."

You hated those words, never mind. People never said it truthfully, it always meant they wanted to share something.

"It is because people think I'm useless?" you asked him.

He stood a little taller and tenser.

You’d heard it time and time before and thought it was really silly.

"Cause it's fine," you assured him. "Really. I think hands have more uses than just fighting, and just because they aren't holding weapons, it doesn't mean their owner is useless. I know I'm not."

His cheeks became a little bit pink, although you couldn't quite see any shame on his face.

"You are really good at what you do," he affirmed, at last. "I think everyone in the Capitol will want to sponsor you."

That made you smile. Yeah, that would be super nice.

“I hope they do,” you smiled, chuckling a bit. “I owe them quite the money for this marble block. I don’t know how I’ll pay for it if no one wants it.”

It was very expensive to secure so much of it at once, your mother had had to insist with your father for days on end for it to happen.

He glanced at you and cocked a grin.

"If no one wants it, when I win the Hunger Games, I'll sponsor you," he told you. "And you can make as many sculptures of as many things as you want."

You smiled, although not so sure.

"Speaking of that," he turned completely to you. "I think they just released the names of the people who'll compete for this year's spot on the wall. Don't want to look?"

You shook your head, his excitement was not as contagious as he imagined it would be.

"I know I didn't make it," you reminded him.

Cato deflated a bit.

"You don't even want to check?" he insisted.

And you were about to say no when Juno's explanation about people crossed your mind.

"My sister said that when someone asks you if you want to do something, it might be a way of implying that they want to do that thing with you," you told him. "Do you want me to go see it with you, so then we can know if you passed?"

There was a look on his face, as if you had said something funny, or a half-joke, but Cato didn't quite laugh. Instead, he nodded.

"Yes, Y/N, that is what I meant," he told you, speaking slowly. "Would you like to go with me?"

"Yes," you confirmed. "That would be nice."

You turned to your table, took your documents and put them in your bag, and put it over your shoulder. Your mother was supposed to take a look into everything before sending it, you could finish it at home.

He waited for you, and you frowned when he outrightly reached for your hand as you walked out of the room, his skin warm and a little rough from fighting, but didn't pull away. It felt nice.

Cato walked you to the big board in the recreational room, already empty as the other students had left, and he pointed to the fingerprint readers.

"Are you sure you don't want to check?" he asked.

You stared for a bit. Well, everyone was supposed to check.

You extended the hand you didn't have on his and wiped it on your top, knowing well those things didn't read when you had powder or dirt on your skin, and pressed your thumb to the reader.

It read you, and you stepped back to watch the results.

Your picture and your position in the general school evaluation. And nope, you hadn't passed.

"Told you," you looked at him. "Good thing I don't need that to graduate."

You watched it for a moment, though. Those points were very important if someone wanted to go into Peacekeeper Academy, though. The higher your classification and grade - and the higher placement you had in the competition to volunteer, if you didn't go to the Games - the higher the chance you could choose where you would go after graduating. Your mother once told you she knew half the Peacekeepers in your town because they studied at her school, and were at the top of their classes, which meant they could just choose to work in their hometown and stay near their loved ones.

Cato pressed his thumb to the reader, waiting a moment before pulling back, still holding your hand in his free one.

He looked way happier in his photo than you did in yours when it came up, and none of you were even surprised at his grade. 12, the best grade one could get.

"Yes," he celebrated, raising his hands with yours in it. "Top of the class, I get to pick when I'll have my first fight."

Cato looked at you with a big grin.

"I knew posing for you would bring me good luck," he affirmed, looking so excited his eyes were glimmering. "I'm going to the Hunger Games this year, you'll see. You're looking at the 74th winner."

Chapter 3

. . .

"the devil in the marble" was posted on my Patreon in June 2023! To read the available chapters and read the last arc of the story as it gets published, subscribe to my page! It's just $2 a month and I promise you won't regret it.

. . .

Forever Tags: @emoryhemsworth @amythyststorm33 @shaelyn102 @yknott81 @maximofftrash @kgbrenner @thefridgeismybestie @magpiegirl80 @mogaruke @shadowhunter7 @musicalcoffeebean @megasimpleplan4ever @deemoriarty @05spn18 @malindacath @kdcollinsauthor @random-fandom-fangirl2112 @widowsfics @frozenhuntress67 @averyrogers83 @notyourtypicalrose @nerdypinupcrystal @giruvega the devil in the marble: @randomgurl2326

#welldonebeca's the devil in the marble #cato hadley #cato hunger games #cato fanfic #cato fanfiction #cato x reader #cato hadley x reader #cato series #74th hunger games fanfiction #the hunger games #the hunger games fanfiction #the hunger games fanfic

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wemade-an-arrangement · 2 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 · 2 months ago

Text

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 · 7 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 · 8 months ago

Text

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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basmathgirl · 5 months ago

Note

Hi! Totally meant to send this a while ago but work got so busy. I guess its better late than never, but sorry this is a bit removed from the conversation!

A couple weeks ago you guys were talking about Catherine Tate's bangs/fringe in the 60th specials and how they were a hair piece. I think you also mentioned that she said she doesn't care for them on herself (was that in some bts or at a con? Sounds like such a random topic to bring up in an interview but now I'm curious!). I agree, she looks so lovely with the fringe (she looks lovely any way, but I digress) and some of my favorite looks on her are when she's got the side bangs that frame her face! But I would guess she's not crazy about the look because they're a lot of extra work for someone with naturally curly/wavy hair. My hair is similar to hers (unfortunately, just in texture and not the beautiful color) and growing up I begged my mom for bangs because everyone else had them. She kept telling me no because I would regret having to deal with it the minute the weather wasn't perfect outside with zero humidity (which is basically never). Senior year of high school rolled around and guess who finally got bangs? Yep, me! Guess who got real tired of styling them all the time only for them to never stay right for long? Yep, me again. I tried so hard, unsuccessfully, to keep my hair straight. And for some reason, the bangs always frizzed up the worst! I didn't have the patience to try a million and one products to see if I could find one that would tame it so I ended up just growing them out after a few months.

CT seems like a fairly low maintenance person. I'd hazard a guess she said no to that hairstyle because it's just way too much work, especially given how London weather is.

Hello kind Anon

Never mind; better late than never.

As for Catherine's fringe/bangs, I can't remember what interview it was that she dismissed the idea of having one (something like Good Morning, I suspect); but she certainly doesn't choose to have a fringe in every day life, only for specific roles.

When you look at her hair when she was younger

it was extremely thick and full, even before perms were the fashion. Must have been an absolute nightmare to manage. She even she had a fringe

for a role in The Bill. It didn't last, so the practicalities of it must have irked Catherine a great deal.

My hair is nowhere near as curly as Catherine's, or yours, but straighteners have been a godsend. You have my full sympathies for your earlier angst; especially as I once took the foolish step of getting my hair permed. I hated it and only liked it when wet... but we were talking about you. Sorry.

Did you also do the hot brush or curling tongs in a vain attempt to style your hair? Sheesh, things were difficult.

Yes, the rain in London is a problem; although people tend to be armed with a brolly and/or waterproof hood, so it's not that huge an obstacle. No, most of the blame would go on the thick curly hair doing its own thing. But it does make you realise why Catherine resists growing a fringe and sticks to hair pieces or wigs to gain a more favourable appearance.

I hope you've now managed to tame your hairstyle without too many products to invest in.

#kind Anon #Catherine Tate #Surgical Spirit #The Bill #thick curly hair #does not equal manageable hair #so you can understand the non-fringe decision #a childhood friend used to iron her hair #in an attempt to straighten it!

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ujunxverse · 7 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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