#And it's so frustrating because I did get it to work in one of my first attempts!

[rynwritesreid]

Take a bite| Spencer Reid

Summary: After unknowingly teasing Spencer, he needs your help so he can finish paperwork.

Content: Fem!reader. Established relationship. Dom/sub dynamic. Dom!Spencer. Sub!reader. Praise kink. Oral (both receiving). Overstimulation. Bondage (handcuffs). Semi-public sex. Use of nicknames (good girl, baby and sir). Vaginal penetration. No mentions of contraception. Choking/breath play.

Masterlist| requests are open| Navigation

To Spencer, there was no one more beautiful than you. Every inch of your body was perfection in his eyes. So, when you had previously asked Spencer what his favourite body part of you was, he said he couldn’t decide as he loved every part of you. But if he was being honest, it was your thighs.

He loved the way your thighs felt around him. He loved how they would tremble when he was overstimulating you, or they would hug his head when he buried his face between them. He loved to kiss the soft skin of your thighs, feeling the goosebumps rise under his touch.

So, unknowingly to you, when you had decided to wear a skirt to work, you were being a tease to Spencer. As you walked into the office that morning in your skirt, Spencer couldn’t stop stealing glances at your thighs. He was practically eye-fucking you all day.

Because of you, Spencer hadn’t been able to fill out any reports. “Spencer, can I speak to you?” Emily’s voice interrupted his thoughts. He quickly snapped back to reality, trying to compose himself before facing Emily. She raised an eyebrow, clearly noticing his distracted demeanour.

"Is everything alright, Spencer? You seem a bit... off today," Emily inquired, her gaze piercing through him.

Spencer cleared his throat, mustering up a professional facade. "I’m fine just had a lot on my mind. What did you need to talk about?" he replied, avoiding direct eye contact with Emily.

She handed him a folder with a concerned expression. "I need these reports completed by the end of the day. Is that going to be a problem?" Emily asked, her tone firm but not unkind.

Spencer nodded, taking the folder from her. "No problem at all, I'll have them on your desk before you know it," he assured her with a forced smile.

As Emily walked away, Spencer let out a sigh of relief mixed with frustration. His eyes wondered back to you. You were engrossed in a conversation with a colleague across the room, unaware of Spencer's intense gaze on you.

He stood up, and walked directly towards you, he didn’t care that you were in the middle of a conversation. “Hey, can I talk to you?” Spencer didn't care about the puzzled look on your face as he grabbed your hand, pulling you away from the prying ears of Luke and Tara.

"Spencer, what's going on?" you questioned, slightly taken aback by his urgency and the way he was looking at you.

“You.” he paused for a second, his voice was horse, “you’re such a fucking tease. You know that right?” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. 

You didn’t know what to say, but you did know your cheeks had gone a bright shade of red.

“Because of you, I haven’t been able to do any work today. So, you’re going to be a good girl, and follow me into that storage closet, okay?” Spencer's voice was laced with desire and a touch of command that made your heart race. Without a word, you found yourself nodding, your body reacting to his proximity and the sudden rush of adrenaline.

He didn't wait for a response, tugging you gently by the hand as he led you towards the storage closet at the far end of the office floor.

Once inside the dimly lit closet, Spencer wasted no time in pressing you against the shelves, his lips finding yours in a hungry kiss.

“Get on your knees.” Spencer commanded, his voice low and authoritative. You didn't need to be told twice; it was clear that Spencer had been holding back all day. 

You sank to your knees, your heart pounding in your chest, your breaths coming out in shallow pants. You looked up at him, your eyes searching for reassurance, but all you saw was raw desire.

His hand gripped the back of your head, guiding you to where you needed to be. With one swift motion, your eyes widened as you felt the thickness of his erection, pressing against your lips. Trembling, you parted them, welcoming him inside.

Spencer's breath hitched as you took him in, the wet sounds of your mouth enveloping him filling the small space. He thrust gently, his hips rocking in rhythm with your movements. You kept your eyes locked with his, the heat of his gaze intensifying with every stroke.

As the sounds of your mouth moving on him filled the closet, Spencer's control began to slip. His fingers tightened in your hair, and he started to thrust harder, his hips bucking against your face.

Spencer's breath became ragged, his voice a husky whisper as he urged you on. "That's it, baby, take it all. I can't hold back anymore."

The slap of your lips around him, the wet sounds of your throat accommodating him, the intensity of it all was overwhelming, and yet, you craved more.

Spencer groaned, his hips thrusting more violently, his release imminent. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum, baby..." he warned, his voice strained and filled with urgency.

You felt his cock twitch against your lips, and you knew it was only a matter of time. He continued to thrust, his pace becoming erratic as he approached his climax.

Spencer's body tensed as he reached the edge, his hips stuttering against your face. Then, with one final thrust, he let out a guttural moan, releasing himself in your eager mouth.

You swallowed, your throat adjusting to the new sensation as he continued to fill you. It was only when he was spent that he slowly pulled away, his breath still coming in ragged gasps.

“Clean yourself up, I’ve got to go write my reports before I get scolded by Emily again.” Spencer mumbled, still trying to catch his breath. You stood up, your knees wobbly, and grabbed a handful of tissues from the carton on the shelf. You wiped your mouth, feeling your cheeks flush.

Spencer watched you, his gaze lingering on your lips, the tissues still clutched in your hand. "You're such a good girl," he whispered, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

Spencer wasn’t done with you yet, but the rest would have to wait till you had both finished work and where back in the safety of your shared apartment.

“When I home tonight, I expect to see you naked waiting for me.”  Spencer warned.

With a final kiss to your lips, Spencer straightened his shirt, adjusting his tie. "Let's get back to work," he said, his voice back to normal, as he led you out of the closet. "I still have those reports to write."

You sat down at your desk, trying to focus on your work, but all you could think about was the next time you'd see Spencer. The corners of your mouth curled up into a smile, knowing that later tonight, you would be waiting for him with nothing but your body to offer. You wanted him to take you again, to feel his hands on your skin, to hear his voice telling you how much he wanted you.

When your workday finally came to an end, you hurried to your shared apartment, excited for what was to come.

Upon entering your apartment, he found you exactly as he'd ordered, standing at the entrance, your body bathed in the soft light of the hallway. The sight of you left him breathless, and his eyes devoured every inch of your naked body.

He approached you slowly, taking in the sight of your breasts, full and inviting, your nipples hard and erect. He reached out, running his fingers gently over them, eliciting a low groan from you.

"You're such a good girl," he whispered, his voice full of desire.

“I always try to be, for you sir.” You whispered back, your eyes never leaving his.

Spencer couldn't help but smile at your response, he loved the way you addressed him, even in these private moments.

“Now, go lie on the bed with your legs spread for me.” Spencer commanded, his voice a mix of desire and authority.

You quickly complied, lying down on the bed with your legs apart, your heart racing as you awaited his touch.

Spencer's eyes devoured your body as he approached the bed. He looked up at you, a smirk on his lips. "You're such a good girl," he said, his voice deep and filled with desire. He crawled onto the bed, his eyes never leaving your body as he made his way between your legs.

With one hand on your thigh, he gently spread your legs wider, exposing yourself to him completely. His other hand reached down, his fingers brushing against your folds, coating them with your arousal.

"Tell me what you want, baby," he growled, his eyes locked on yours.

“I want you to eat me out, sir.” You pleaded, your breath hitching as anticipation seized your body.

Spencer grinned, a wicked glint in his eyes. "With pleasure," he said, his voice a low growl.

He lowered his head and began to kiss and lick your inner thighs, moving closer and closer to your most sensitive spot. Your breathing became shallow and ragged, and you could feel yourself becoming wetter with each passing second.

As his tongue finally made contact with your throbbing clit, Spencer's eyes met yours, and you could see the hunger in them. He began to lick and suck on your sensitive area, his tongue darting in and out with precise movements.

Your moans filled the room, and you could feel your body starting to tremble as the pleasure built within you. You reached down, running your hands through his hair, pulling him closer to you.

Spencer continued to work his magic, his tongue flicking and probing your clit. Your body arched off the bed, your breath coming in short pants as you felt yourself headed towards the edge.

“Oh god, sir, I'm so close,” you gasped, your hips bucking up towards his mouth.

Spencer grinned around your clit, his tongue not missing a beat. He knew just how to push you over the edge, and he was determined to do so tonight.

When you finally screamed out his name, your body convulsing in a powerful orgasm, Spencer slowed his movements, savouring the taste of your release. He pulled away, his lips glistening with your juices.

With a satisfied grin, he looked up at you, his eyes hungry. "I'm not done with you yet," he promised, his voice filled with lust.

Spencer stood up for the bed and walked towards the bedside cabinet. As you tried to see what he was looking for, you saw him grab a pair of handcuffs.

Your heart raced as you watched him approach the bed; his eyes locked on yours. “Spencer, what are you going to do?” you whispered, your voice shaking with anticipation.

Spencer smirked, a wicked glint in his eyes. "Just relax, baby," he said, his voice deep and filled with desire. He climbed onto the bed, his body hovering over you, his hands securing the handcuffs around your wrists.

“While I know you didn’t mean to tease me today, I still believe you need to be punished.” Spencer's voice was firm, and there was no denying the strength of his authority.

"But... but I didn't mean to..." you stammered, your heart racing as you looked up into his eyes.

"I know you didn't, baby. But there are consequences for our actions, and you know that very well." His voice was soft, but the threat was clear. You knew you had to accept the punishment because you knew the rewards that would follow.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt the cool metal of the cuffs on your wrists, securing your arms to the headboard. You looked up at Spencer, fear and desire mingling in your eyes, as he crawled between your spread legs.

With one smooth motion, he entered you, filling you completely in one powerful thrust.

"You're such a good girl," he whispered, his voice filled with satisfaction. 

You let out a small, pained moan as your body adjusted to his size. A mixture of pain and pleasure coursed through you, making your heart race and your breath catch in your throat.

Spencer’s hand seemed to find its way to your throat as he began to thrust into you, his rhythm deep and hard. Your body responded to his every move, your breathing becoming ragged as the pleasure and pain mingled within you.

"Are you enjoying yourself, baby?" he growled, his eyes locked on yours.

You nodded, too caught up in the sensation to speak. Your body was on fire, every inch of you alive with desire.

"That's good. Because I'm not going to stop until you beg for me to," Spencer promised, his voice filled with lust.

He continued to thrust into you, his body slamming against yours, the sound of flesh meeting flesh filling the room. Your body responded to his every move, your hips bucking up to meet his each time he thrust into you.

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[1d1195]

Ding - Round 6

Read Ding here | ~6.3k words

Warnings: some smut 18+ only, oral, fingering, cockwarming if you squint; angst, car accident, trauma dumping, sucky parental figure. Please read with caution. You might also see one of my cliffhangers.

From me: I feel like the beginning is messy to read--almost like it's out of nowhere? But it's pretty intentional, tbh. I hope it doesn't detract from the story. Hope you like it 💕

Summary: Cupcake and Harry are busy. Harry has his big fight. Cupcake was right about throwing her life out of balance by adding in a boyfriend. They miss each other. They don't know how to deal with that either. At least not while they're apart.

It was not Harry’s fault. Even though he thought it was.

But to be fair, it wasn’t her fault either. Even if she felt it was.

Harry grew into adulthood knowing he was stubborn. Everyone in his life told him so. It was obvious. He didn’t get to be an undefeated champion without grit. His entire gym was named as a near synonym of the word. But she continued to surprise him, and it was clear that he had very much met his match—she was competing for his crown of stubbornness. If Harry wasn’t so mad about his current state, he might even acknowledge that she was winning.

At first everything was new and completely fine. He was enamored with her. Finally she was all his. He took her on a real date—several real, authentic dates. He danced around with her in the bakery kitchen. Brought her food for movie nights in her apartment. (He also licked her when the movie lost his attention, and she looked too good to be sitting there without his head between her legs.) He even brought her bouquets of flowers simply because it was Monday.

She stayed at his place, wrapped close to him. It was as if they had done it for years. When he woke up early for a run, she joined him, assuring him to go ahead and circle back for her since he ran way better and faster than she did. But he enjoyed the way she massaged his muscles in the shower most. (The way she wrapped her hand around his dick most of all.) She made him breakfast before they left for work and Harry thought if the bakery wasn’t to her liking she could open a breakfast place as a second choice.

She chatted with Sarah while he worked out and trained. Without any kind of asking, she helped clean equipment when he needed to focus more on training. She organized his desk in his office because it was a disaster and it stressed her out. Whenever she cleaned, she hummed and didn’t notice. It made Harry fall deeper in love with her. Every moment he was with her was magical.

Until she was exhausted.

He missed her. For the first time in his life, he had felt completely in love with someone. The way he wanted to be in love. He finally had that. They were inseparable. Nights spent cocooned under Harry’s covers. His finger tracing her features in the dark. “So pretty,” he murmured.

“You can’t even see me,” she whispered.

“S’how I know you’re so pretty. Can feel it.”

So not having that for two weeks was like trying to swim through cement.

She had what could only be called a complete meltdown. Frosting and cupcakes everywhere. She was overwhelmed—said yes to too many functions in a row and spread herself too thin. She was frustrated with Harry and his time training and just missed him.

But she didn’t say it.

Because Harry was frustrated too. He tried to help her, but she didn’t let him in. There was the whole not knowing her family—even though she had effectively wormed her way into Mum and Gemma’s heart. Though he wasn’t surprised in the slightest; honestly, he thought his niece liked her more than Harry and she had only met her twice.

So, when she exploded, for lack of a better word, it was magnificent. It was nothing he had ever seen before. The exhaustion in her eyes, the worry on her face, the tears that spilled down her cheeks. Harry was sick with worry and frustration just to hear her cry but was nearly impressed. The cupcakes overturned on the floor were nothing in comparison to the way she cried.

“Cupcake, you are overreact—”

“Do not finish that sentence,” she hissed at him. That was entirely on him. Gem had taught him better than to tell a woman she was overreacting.

“Lemme take something off your plate, kitten,” he tried instead. He was ignoring her frustrated tears even though he wanted to brush them away. “Tell me what’s going on,” he figured it had something to do with her dad because she kept checking her phone and she hadn’t mentioned going to see him in over a week. But her car was overdue for an oil change, and she didn’t want to drive it that far but hadn’t a moment to deal with it. She also complained about something regarding her eyebrows, but Harry didn’t fully understand it because quite honestly, he had never thought about her eyebrows.

But if it meant caring for herself, he wished he pushed further.

Their schedules hadn’t lined up in two weeks. No more than an hour or two alone. She saw him plenty while she chatted with Sarah at the gym while he trained or worked. He and Maeve had started a competition of who could sprinkle the most cupcakes in fifteen minutes (Harry was willing to admit defeat once in his life—he would never beat Maeve) even though she didn’t like that they were having fun when she was stressed.

They hadn’t practiced her self-defense moves in nearly a month.

So, it felt like her fault.

But what she hadn’t anticipated was Harry’s sour attitude reflecting right back at her. Harry didn’t take her frustration lying down. He snapped back at her which felt so heinous to do but he was grumpy.

But he was tired of arguing with her. Tired of feeling frustrated, begging her to let him in when it was obvious she didn’t want to. So, for the first time in his life, he stopped fighting.

It pained him to no end. He could see in her eyes that she was exhausted. It hurt him so badly. Each time he said, “Whatever, Cupcake,” he felt like the worst boyfriend in the world for not taking her frustration away. But she wouldn’t let him in. She wouldn’t let him take away her frustration. It was like she wanted to argue with him. It was entirely unfair, but she was mad about his indifference. It didn’t make any sense for her to be mad when she had just as much blame to take for his sour mood.

“Why don’t you just go home?” She suggested. Bitterness coated every word.

“Yeah?” Harry looked up at her from his phone, his eyes narrowed. She could see his muscles tense like they were in the ring, and she was aiming for his head. “Jus’ leave?” He repeated.

“Obviously you don’t want to be here,” she muttered.

He slid back from the table, the chair scraping against the floor with a screech that made her teeth hurt. “No, cupcake,” he shook his head and made his way for the door. She hated itwhen he said the sweet name like that. She knew it wasn’t her nickname when he said it. It wasn’t filled with the love he liked. It was sarcastic. Mean. It hurt her more than an actual punch would have, she was sure. “You don’t want me here,” his voice was low. She closed her eyes, trying to keep as calm as possible. It was hard because she was anything but calm. But she said nothing. “You don’t want me in your life,” he snapped finally letting all the emotion out that had been building over the last week. “You keep things from me. You build up walls that I can’t break down. Every time I get to the top y’add another layer of bricks.”

She stayed silent.

“Go on, cupcake. Say m’wrong,” he challenged. “Say y’let me in.”

But both knew she couldn’t say it.

It was eerily quiet in the kitchen. The pinch of Harry’s brow made her sad. She wanted to smooth it out with a kiss. “Tell me to stay,” he whispered quietly.

But she couldn’t say that either.

“Yeah,” he sighed and turned. “S’what I thought.”

*

Maeve wondered if her best friend was going to have a heart attack a lot during her time at A Pinch of Sprinkles. The opening in town nearly sent her to the ER. She was running on fumes at the time. Christmas always made her anxious. Anytime they were chosen for a wedding also had Maeve worrying about her medical history. But in comparison, those were nothing. If Maeve had known what not talking to Harry would do to her, she would have told her that Christmas was a tropical vacation.

Harry stopped coming to see her.

“Did...” she swallowed, nervous to infuriate her best friend further but out of care for her, she had to know. “Is... Harry still...”

She glared at the cupcakes she was frosting, squeezing the icing bag a little too tightly. “I don’t know,” she grumbled. She hadn’t gotten a text from him nor seen him in a week after she told him to leave.

Maeve’s heart cracked. “Babe,” Maeve murmured softly.  “He... he adores you... what happened?”

She shook her head unwilling to go over it again. The nights were filled with tear-soaked pillowcases, and she was exhausted from stress and crying. “I just can’t be in a relationship. It’s too much.”

Of course.

Maeve was sick of her best friend’s loneliness. “That is bullshit,” Maeve rolled her eyes. “Did you push him away?”

“Maeve, shut the fuck—”

“Oh, good luck pushing me away, babe. No,” she shook her head and grabbed the bag of frosting from her hands and threw it at the sink to gain her attention.

“I was wor—”

Maeve ignored her words and continued on with her own. “I might not be a boxer, but I can take a punch or two all the same. You pushed him away. Now you’re sulking. You’ve been punishing yourself for so long because you think you don’t deserve to be happy. Harry did nothing but love you and try to help you and you wouldn’t let him—”

“I am going to fire you,” she muttered bitterly. Harry never said he loved her anyway. How could he love her after all that? How could he love her if he didn’t even know the truth?

Maeve continued anyway, immune to her threat because she knew that wasn’t true at all. “You deserve to be happy, and Harry made you happy. That scares you,” she finished.

Angry tears filled her eyes and she ground her teeth together.

“You’re not going to say anything?”

Maeve was her best friend and knew more about her and her family than anyone. “I don’t get happy things.”

“But you do. You have me, number one,” she snorted, fortunately. The tension eased just the slightest bit. “You have this bakery. And more importantly, you have a guy that is so crazy about you, he has been calling me every night to make sure you’re home safe and sound.” Her heart fluttered. She didn’t know that.

“Every time I love someone, they go away,” she whispered.

Maeve felt nothing but sympathy for her sweet friend. “You have to give Harry a chance. You have to tell him why you’re doing this. I have a good feeling about him,” Maeve reminded her. For the first time in a week, she felt her body untense.

“He calls you?” She asked.

“Every night.”

She bit the inside of her lip. “That’s nice,” she whispered.

Maeve nodded. “Really nice,” she agreed. “Plus, he’s like super hot. Did you even sleep with him yet?” She blushed at her words and reached for a new frosting bag out of the fridge. “You bitch! You didn’t tell me?!” Maeve screeched. She smacked her arm repeatedly. “Tell me everything! When did you do it? Where did you do it? Harry must have a massive dick, right? I feel like he’s—”

“Maeve,” she laughed. The first time in a week. It felt good to laugh. “I...”

“No, you have to spill. Something.”

Her cheeks were flaming. “I think I’m addicted to it,” she whispered.

“Thank. God.”

*

Harry refused to go back to the bakery for the rest of the week uninvited. His workout sessions were horrific. Louis yelled at him for missing his marks and he felt everything about his footwork was sloppy. The way she ignored him made him feel terrible. But naturally, he didn’t help either. He hadn’t texted her in over a week.

But it didn’t stop Harry from waking up to a call at eleven thirty at night.

“What?” He grumbled. He didn’t want to fight. He was tired of arguing with her and was tired of being frustrated. She would have to do the work if she was going to try and fix this when he needed sleep.

The sound of her shaky breath snapped his eyes open. “Can you come get me?” She croaked.

That did him in within seconds. The vulnerability in her voice. “Cupcake, s’matter?” He was awake instantly. It wasn’t sarcastic. It was her name. The one he used that made her feel adored. It was sweet and made her feel better almost as if he was already at the bakery. He quickly slid into trainers that he didn’t even untie; the back of the heel was smushed down and uncomfortable against his foot, but it didn’t matter. Her sniffling made him insane with worry. It was like the last few weeks hadn’t happened. “Kitten, talk to me,” he ordered. His heart racing and his fear taking over. He wasn’t sure he locked his door, and he was lucky he even remembered to grab his car keys before he descended the stairs to the parking lot.

“I’m alright,” she promised, tears filling most of her voice.

“Y’don’t sound alright.”

“I’m fine,” she repeated.

“Cupcake, I swear t’God,” he threw his car into drive before it was fully turned on.

“I just miss you. I’m sad and scared. Okay? I’m physically fine, but I’m a mess. I want you here,” her voice wobbled, and Harry felt like he was breaking. “Please,” she sniffled.

Harry felt crushing relief and he watched the needle on Clay’s speedometer lower from a felony charge to a healthy speeding ticket.  “M’five minutes away, kitten. Stay put.”

“Okay,” her voice was quiet, sad but Harry didn’t mind.

“You’re okay?” He repeated. She nodded. He couldn’t see that though. “Cupcake?”

“I’m okay,” she promised, it was punctuated by a sniffle.

His heart felt so broken feeling the anguish in her voice. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he whispered to the phone. “I wasn’t nice,” he mumbled.

“It’s hard,” she whispered. The remainder of his drive was silent. Just her sniffles and the hum of his tires on the road to accompany the small miles between them. Harry sprinted to her bakery door. She was there pacing the front and unlocked it as he approached. Harry dropped his phone right inside the entryway, the bell signaling his arrival, finally.

Within one second of crossing the threshold, she was in his arms. The door only clicked shut once he was around her. His face buried in her hair, his arms tightening around her like he was trying to keep her afloat in the middle of the ocean. “M’here,” he hummed. “M’here, Cupcake,” he promised. She squeezed her eyes shut, her heart finally slowing after so much anxiety had plagued her over the last couple of weeks.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know, baby, I know,” he assured her. “S’okay.”

“It’s so hard,” she repeated, herself from the phone call. Harry wished they were home. Even though it was late and private Harry wanted the comfort of her bed or his sofa to let her fall apart. The bakery was warm, but he wanted pillows for her head and blankets for her body to comfort her while she whispered secrets to him.

“I know, kitten. I know s’hard. But I... I adore you, Cupcake. Don’t y’know that? What do y’think all this is between us? I want t’meet your dad. He’s obviously a huge part of your life... and keeping secrets from me? S’not fair.”

“I know it’s not fair.”

“You know everything ‘bout me. S’like I don’t get t’know anything ‘bout you. Do y’think I’m suddenly not going to like you? I assure you that’s never going t’happen.”

“You don’t know that. You don’t know what I did.”

“What could you possibly have done? You’re made of sugar, Cupcake. You have to let me in. I told you everything. You know my family. You know my friends. You know why I bought Driven and why I have been fighting since I was ten years old. You have kept me out of everything. I don’t even know why you opened A Pinch of Sprinkles. I know you have a dad. You never talk about your mom. I don’t know about your childhood best friend or your favorite pet. There are these walls you keep up and I don’t know why, and I don’t know how to break them down.”

“You don’t eat cupcakes when you’re sad,” her jaw shakes as she pulls from him. The space between them feels worse than the last few weeks without her combined. It’s cold and lonely. More so than not speaking to her. More so than not sleeping beside her. His heart hurt instantly. But not as much as it hurt to watch her lower lip move almost independently of the rest of her face.

“Cupcake, what does that have t’do—”

But before he could finish his thought Harry could see it did have to do with what he just asked about. The way her eyes were shining with tears. It felt like someone clipped his vocal cords. All words escaped him, and he just stared at her as she continued. “You eat them at baby showers, weddings, and at birthday parties,” she listed. Harry stayed quiet. “You don’t eat them when your mom leaves when you’re six years old because it’s too much to be a mom,” her voice was so broken as she spoke. Harry felt her pain in the air. Like needles stabbing every inch of his exposed skin. It seemed impossible that someone wouldn’t want her. To willingly choose to leave her. Her mum no less. She was looking at her hands like they were going to give her the answer to a test she forgot to study for. “You don’t eat them at funerals or when you break your arm,” she continued. Harry wondered who had died and which arm she had broken and how. “You eat them when you get a good grade on your math test or on an anniversary.” Harry’s heart was breaking. He always wondered about the things she kept hidden in her personal life and she laid it out right there for him. In the one place that she probably loved more than anywhere else on earth. “You don’t eat them when you’re sick or sad. They’re for when you’re happy. You can’t be sad while eating sprinkles.”

It clicked effortlessly. Obviously. “A pinch of sprinkles,” he murmured softly. He crossed the space that separated them. Immediately, he cupped her cheeks in his hands, they felt cool compared to the warmth that emanated from her skin. Hot, frustrated tears started to spill over. He swiped at them with his thumbs below her eyes in tandem. He caught as many as he could but there was an overwhelming number of teardrops. It was impossible for him to keep them all from falling in rivers down her face.

She nodded. Her tears continued to spill over, rolling down her cheeks and sliding down his thumbs as he tried to stop them. “A pinch of sprinkles,” she repeated softly. She inhaled sharply. Turning against his hands holding her in place. A new wave of anguish crossed her face that Harry didn’t know could exist on someone’s face—especially not her perfect features. All the art museums he went to in university for his art history requirement made sense. The distortion of features on someone so beautiful was right before him. He understood. “You don’t eat cupcakes when your dad is in a car accident and becomes paralyzed from the neck down because you were too tired to drive even though you were the one that wanted to go to the drive-in and the only thing you can do is bring him to an entirely new town with a place to help him the way he deserves because it’s never going to be enough to thank him or repay him or—” the words were cut off by sobs that she could no longer control. Her heart was breaking right in front of him.

Harry knew how to fight. He knew how to stand with poise and grace that no one would expect a boxer to have. He knew how to throw punches that could knock a grown man out in one hit. The correct form to kick was ingrained in his mind from when he was ten years old.

Harry didn’t know how to begin to fight her sadness.

“Cupcake,” he whispered. She covered her mouth and the noise that came out of her body was so sad, so broken. Harry wondered how she could still be standing. Harry always thought he was pretty tough. That stubborn nature of his thought he was one of the toughest people in a room.

But he wasn’t. Not even close.

The pretty, sweet girl who was constantly covered in sugar and frosting—she was the strongest person he knew.

He couldn’t begin to imagine what she went through—how she still coped with it. It was a miracle she got in a car ever again. She was braver than he ever was or could be. “And he doesn’t hate me,” she whispered through her sobs. “My mom left him because of me. He is in a wheelchair and unable to live a normal life because of me.”

“Kitten,” he warned worried she would work herself up too much beyond his ability to help her. Harry was an idiot for making her feel this. He couldn’t leave well enough alone. If he only knew...

“Why doesn’t he just hate me?” She whimpered and Harry finally pulled her into his embrace. Her tears immediately soaked his shirt. She got snot all over him and Harry just kept her close to him he let her cry for longer than he ever wanted her to, but it felt good to hold her again. Regardless of the pain.

“How could anyone hate you, Cupcake?" he asked after a minute.

“I hate me,” she whispered. The question was rhetorical, but she responded anyway.

He kissed the top of her head. “If I had a kid like you... S’not anything I wouldn’t do for them. Your dad doesn’t regret that.”

“Of course he does,” she sniffled. “I couldn’t even take care of him.”

“It wasn’t your job, Cupcake.”

“But it was my faul—”

“Take me t’meet him,” he interrupted.

She blinked, confused. “What?”

“Take me to meet him. Y’go every week, yeah? Take me,” he asked. She felt so vulnerable. Her heart felt heavy.

“Meet him?” She whispered. Harry didn’t even comment that she repeated him again.

He nodded. “He saved your life for me, Cupcake. M’sure of it. S’least I could do t’meet him.”

Her heart felt something dangerously close to hope enveloping it. It was too good to be true. Her dream job, a cute apartment, a best friend, and the perfect guy. “You don’t hate me?”

He scoffed and buried his face in her neck. He missed her smell—vanilla and sugar (although he wasn’t sure that was truly her natural scent but merely from spending so much time in the kitchen). He missed her voice and the warmth he felt just holding her in his arms. “Christ, Kitten. Course not.”

“But I was so... awful. And I... I ruined his life. I'm cursed or something. I'll... I'll ruin your life too.”

"Sweetheart," he cooed. "Y'don't really believe that, do you?"

"I'm not a good luck charm, Harry."

"You are, Cupcake. You are the luckiest thing s'ever happened to me."

She looked at him miserably. "I've done nothing but made your life confusing and hell."

He pulled back a little so he could get a clearer look at her face. He smiled. The first genuine smile he felt in a week. “I can take a punch every now and again,” he promised. “Think Louis would say I could be knocked down a peg or two every once in a while,” he winked.

It wasn’t fixed. But she looked slightly less broken. She felt a little more whole. Harry’s smile did wonders for her.

*

The next day, Harry stood in the hall outside of the dining room. Other residents were in various activities, but her dad sat in his chair, slumped slightly, and he smiled at her entrance.

“Dad,” she said softly sitting across from him.

“Busy week you had it seems,” he smiled.

She blushed. “I know. I’m so sorry. I should have called. It was one thing after another—it’s no excuse I should have been here, and I was—”

“Honey,” he shook his head slightly, one of the few movements he retained from the crash. “You’re living a life. It’s okay.”

Her heart broke to see him in his chair. Unable to live the same kind of life.

“I... brought... something.”

“Something or someone?”

“How do you know?”

“I don’t see a cupcake box, so this must trouble,” he joked, smiling brightly.

“Harry is here. He wanted to meet you,” she explained.

“He wanted to? What about you?” He asked. She looked at him nervously. Her eyes said everything she didn’t say out loud. Her dad continued to smile. “Well, it’s about time, honey.”

She rolled her eyes and waved him over. Harry hurried, stepping right beside his wheelchair. Without hesitating, he grabbed her dad’s limp hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you sir,” he said shaking it firmly with both hands. When the handshake was through, Harry ever so gently placed his hand back on the arm rest of his chair.

Her dad smirked and winked at the sweet girl. “I’d offer you my seat, Harry, but I’m afraid I’m stuck in it.”

“Jesus Christ,” she covered her hand over her eyes.

Harry chuckled, taking the seat on the side of the table between them. “No problem, sir,” he assured him, taking the joke in stride. Adoration for them both squeezed around her heart. “Cupcake, do y’mind getting us some water?” She blinked in surprise. Normally, Harry wouldn’t let her lift a finger.

“Oh... um... sure,” she said and hurried off to find a nurse to help.

“Cupcake?” Her dad repeated.

“Yes, sir. She’s quite sweet like one,” he smiled gently. Her dad stared Harry down for a moment. Not maliciously. Just watching. Waiting. If they were in the ring, they would have been eyeing one another waiting for someone to make a move.

Her dad made the first one. “She said you wanted to meet me.”

Harry nodded. “I adore your daughter. With everything in me. M’going t’protect her every moment of every day. I wanted you t’hear that from me. I wanted you t’know that.”

“She can be a little feisty sometimes,” he warned, but the smile didn’t leave his face.

“M’aware,” he didn’t want to tell him about their stalemate over the last few weeks. That didn’t matter anymore and it wouldn't paint either of them in a good light.

“She said you have a big match coming up.”

He nodded. “Yes, sir. Biggest one of m’career.”

“Think you’ll win?” He asked.

Harry was confident. But he didn’t like to let his confidence overinflate his chances or make himself sound presumptuous. Anything could happen. But he was going to try his hardest and best. That would be good enough for him. “I believe so. I’ve worked hard for this. I want it more than most anything,” he promised.

“Most?” Just like his daughter, he caught the key word.

“Most,” he repeated. There was a significant pause as Harry considered his next thoughts. The words he didn’t want to explain but what he wanted her dad to know anyway. “Did she tell you about Jack?” Harry asked quietly.

The name didn’t ring a bell. He shook his head. “No. She doesn’t always tell me everything.”

Harry smiled sadly. “At least she’s consistent,” he murmured. “My manager Louis and I teach self-defense classes... she joined one several months ago,” he let another pause tell her dad the words he didn’t want to say. The story he probably shouldn’t be telling him in the first place. “M’confident she could protect herself. But m’hoping she won’t ever have to. M’going t’keep her safe,” he assured him. “I promise.”

He could only imagine the wave of emotions that took over his brain. Harry obviously wasn’t a father, but he didn’t need to be one to know he would murder someone for his daughter. Paralysis or not. “And you?” He asked quietly. Digesting the bit of information Harry alluded to.

“Me?” Harry repeated.

“Are you going to hurt her?”

“Never,” he assured him. “I’d... I’d take a bullet for her,” he promised.

“Speaking from experience, that might hurt her more than just letting her take the bullet,” he chuckled and winked. Harry snorted but nodded.

“Understood.”

She returned with three glasses of water and an extra long straw for her father. “You guys sharing war stories about me?”

“I was jus’ ‘bout t’tell him how you’re trying t’fatten me up with raspberry lemon filling,” Harry stood and held her chair out for her to sit.

“You are more than capable of saying no to cupcakes, Harry.”

“I beg to differ, honey. It’s a sin to say no to them,” her dad smiled. “A sin to say no to you,” he winked again.

*

Their reunion in Harry’s home was carnal to say the least. Harry missed being inside her. He wanted to fall asleep with her wrapped around his dick. Harry had spent many years of his teens taking care of his own sexual needs and yet somehow the weeks apart from her were worse than all those years combined.

Perhaps it was the noises she made. Begging Harry for a release. Her body craved his. It felt like a part of her had been missing for the duration of their silly stalemate. It may have only been a few weeks, but it was a few weeks without orgasms made possible by Harry’s mouth, fingers, and dick.

“I wanna stay inside you the rest of m’life,” he moaned into her ear in the middle of the night. They would both be tired in the morning. Louis would probably hate her (even though Harry assured her that was impossible) but it was worth it.

*

They started going over her self-defense moves again in between dinner and TV shows. Harry was encouraging. Making sure she followed the right move and not her instinct. Correcting her form and making sure she knew he would always be there for her. She told him more secrets that made Harry feel so whole.

She watched him train. Harry walked her to her car after falling asleep on the table in the bakery kitchen. They hadn’t spent a night apart since Harry met her dad. They fell asleep watching a movie or show nearly every night. Harry would simply lift her in his arms and carry her to the bedroom. She would coax him out of his slumber and snuggle up to him as they made it to a more comfortable position in bed.

That was the case one week prior to Harry’s big fight.

He had fallen asleep in her lap (after he had lazily brought her to orgasm with nothing more than stroking his finger messily around her clit. Simply because he could and thought her sleep shorts looked lonely without his hand inside them). Now he had an arm wrapped around her waist, face nuzzled against her T-shirt. “I love you, Cupcake,” he mumbled sleepily. She ignored it. Thought that maybe he was asleep because surely someone so big and strong—someone so scary yet boyish—couldn’t love her after all she put him through. No matter how good her mouth was on his dick. “Hear me, kitten?” He asked rolling to look up at her.

She smiled, blushing. “I heard you, thought you were sleeping.”

“Well, I love you in m’sleep, too,” he turned again, rubbing his nose against her shirt. She giggled, rubbing her fingers through his hair and massaging scalp. She was so enamored and so surprised she felt speechless. “So you’re supposed t’say it back,” he turned and looked up at her. “Unless...y’don’t feel the same way...or I said it too soon or something and it’s—”

“Oh no way,” she assured him. “I love you very much,” she laughed and brought her face down to his and kissed him.

*

The morning of his fight, they woke up early. Harry headed into the shower, and she followed right behind him. With a sleepy smile he enjoyed the feel of her mouth on him as he always did, gripping her hair in his hands while he thought about how a $100,000 would change his life and allow him to spoil her.

But after a healthy breakfast (and another blowjob from beneath the table while he ate because she simply thought he deserved a relaxed morning) there was no use denying it.

Harry was grumpy.

By the time they got to Driven, he snapped at her a few times (more than a few times) and she took it like a champ. In fact, she was planning on ignoring it entirely. It wasn’t his fault. Stress was natural on a day like today. His warmup wasn’t supposed to be heavy the day of a massive fight like this even though he tested Louis’ patience to no end.

“Again,” he snarled at Louis. Louis looked at her for support.

“Baby, you need—”

“I said, again. I know what m’doing,” he growled ignoring her.

Louis let him have one more round of practice. But it was Louis’ comments on his attitude that he found her around lunch time in his office setting up a light lunch from one of his favorite restaurants nearby. Tail between his legs. “M’sorry I snapped, kitten. S’jus’ the nerves.”

She smiled. “I know, baby. It’s okay.”

“S’not okay, though.”

She shook her head grinning at him. “I’ll yet at you later when you eat the frosting off my cupcakes.”

He nodded. “M’gonna hold you to that,” he promised.

“I know it’s silly to say. But don’t be nervous. You’re going to win, I can feel it,” she assured him and draped herself in his lap while he ate his carrot sticks.

“Course. M’good luck charm will be there,” he brushed his finger on her cheek.

“You know, I hate when you get hit. It's been my least favorite part of this whole experience.”

He shrugged. “So, I won’t get hit,” he smiled knowingly.

She laughed. “I don’t think I’m much of a good luck charm when you were already undefeated when I met you,” she reminded him.

He felt everything soften in him. The tenseness, the anger, and the frustration all disappeared. “Oh, kitten,” he shook his head. “You have been m’good luck charm for so much more than boxing matches.”

*

Louis was ready to explode with anger. Part of her wondered if he had ever followed through on his threats of getting in the ring to throw punches at Harry. She thought it might be cathartic for him. Before she can blink, the introductions are over. The sound of the bell chimes through the arena room.

Ding

Round one was over and she was holding her breath so she seriously considered the idea that she had blacked out and missed it. But Niall had murmured to her that he didn’t get hit once and she felt so proud, so excited. The kind of money Harry was going to win would do incredible things for his life. Maybe in addition to holding her breath, she had squeezed her eyes shut and turned to Niall.

His opponent was big, strong. He wasn't facing Harry because he wasn't good. It terrified to think the kind of damage an opponent like him could do to him.

“Looks like he forgot extra towels,” Niall murmured to her bringing her back to reality. She could see the irritation in Louis’ eyes and Harry holding his hands up with the gloves. How did y’expect me t’grab them? She could imagine him grumbling back only further irritating Harry. There was enough for the time being but she knew they would go through a stack of them in no time at all.

“I’ll get them,” she offered standing waving at him in some silent sign language neither discussed but Louis knew what it meant. He looked the slightest bit more relaxed by her standing. Part of her thought for the first time in their relationship he didn’t hate her. Even though Harry assured her repeatedly that he didn't. (He was utterly kind to her throughout the self-defense classes and when Harry reminded her of such, she alluded to the fact that she paid for that kindness.)

“Cupcake, you’re the best,” Niall squeezed the back of her arm as he stayed put. “Want me to come with you?” He asked.

“No, I got it,” she smiled. “I’m going to use the bathroom and hit the concession stand too. So, if I’m not back at the end of the next round I didn’t fall in the laundry basket,” she promised. Niall chuckled and waved her off.

After going to the bathroom and making her way back to the locker room, flashing her badge around her neck, she found the extra towels laid out. The noise was deafening—even from inside the locker room. She grabbed an armful's worth and made her way toward the entrance to the arena.

When she turned around, the last person she ever thought she’d see was waiting just inside the door. The volume behind him hadn’t changed. But she swore in that moment, the crowd, the bell, the thudding of her heart, everything got louder.

She knew he was trying to intimidate her just by standing there. There wasn’t a single person around. Everyone was in that arena. Her legs felt like lead, but she walked forward anyway. The towels in her arms provided extra space between them as she started to walk right past him. “Excuse me,” she muttered.

He’s just trying to intimidate me. She repeated to herself.

“Round two is about to begin!” She heard announced from behind the door followed by a delighted cheer.

It was nothing.

Jack was just trying to scare her. She hadn't done anything wrong.

All she needed to do was walk by him confidently. Then she would watch Harry win life-changing money. She was home free. Leaning into the door, the metal bar squeaking as it released the hold on the frame to let her through to the main room.

But at the last second, the towels fell from her arm in a heap as he grabbed her arm and yanked her away from the door. “I don’t think so.”

Round two was starting.

Ding.

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[hawkinsbnbg]

Steve just wanted to cure his loneliness and Eddie might have the right remedy for him after all.

Steve knew he shouldn't use drugs to numb his loneliness. Good omegas weren't supposed to do that.

Then again, good omegas wouldn't be left alone in a big empty house by their parents.

So there was no reason why he shouldn't sit at the infamous picnic table and wait for the town's drug dealer.

Somehow, he had underestimated Eddie Munson's bargaining skill greatly. After fifteen minutes of negotiation, he had ended up letting the alpha eat him out as an exchange for drugs.

And goddamn did Eddie Munson have a way with his mouth.

That was why Steve had ignored his parents' lessons about being a respectable omega and allowed Eddie to taste his virgin pussy every time he sought the alpha out.

It escalated when Eddie asked to finger him one day. Steve had been reluctant at first, because ew who knew what those hands had touched.

But he conceded eventually since Eddie was the only dealer in town (that he trusted).

Turned out, the combination of Eddie's tongue and fingers could make Steve squirt.

To think he used to live a life where he wasn't given such mind-blowing orgasms before was unbelievable. Because he knew he couldn't return to those dull days where he only had his dildos anymore.

Since the first time Steve gushed on Eddie's bed, he started going to the alpha's place more often.

And gradually, instead of slipping him those baggies, Eddie began slipping more fingers inside him.

"Are you insane?" Steve whined as the alpha's thumb nudged at his entrance.

"Don't worry, Sweetheart," Eddie lapped at his cocklet to get him relaxed. "It's gonna feel good when I'm inside you."

Steve bit back his moan as he writhed beneath the alpha's firm hands.

He always got worked up with how casual Eddie talked about fucking him. Like those fingers were somehow a substitute for the alpha's cock.

It did weird things to Steve's poor horny brain and he had to stop himself from begging for the alpha's knot every time they met.

He knew Eddie would fuck him good, but he had to keep his virginity intact.

All of his thoughts evaporated when Eddie's entire hand finally slid inside him.

"Oh my god," Steve gasped and arched his back. His body shook minutely while his cunt leaked a puddle on the sheet beneath.

It was too much, having an entire hand inside him. He was stretched to the seams, breathless and lightheaded in a way that no drugs had ever made him feel before.

"Good?" Eddie twisted his fist slowly, dark eyes tracing Steve's face like a hawk's.

"I–" He inhaled sharply when Eddie grazed his sweet spot. "I wouldn't s– say that."

"Better than your dildos?" Eddie chuckled at Steve's teary glare. "It's pretty obvious to me, Princess."

"What obvious?" Steve couldn't help but bite the bait. Knowing Eddie, it must be something ridiculous again.

Instead of answering, the alpha scratched lightly at that spot on his inner wall, making him mewl and tremble in pleasure.

But the friction wasn't enough for him to come. It was frustrating.

Eddie continued tormenting him like that until he was loose enough for the fist to move faster.

Even in his wildest dream, Steve would never expect to be fucked by someone's hand.

But there he was, drooling and shaking as Eddie fisted his pussy.

It was when Steve was cross-eyed and on the edge of crashing that Eddie finally leaned over and whispered into his ear.

"You're such a slut, baby.”

And Steve was done for.

He rolled his eyes back and let out a high-pitched moan as he spasmed and gushed messily on the already stained sheet.

His cocklet joined in and squirted, coating his belly with watery opalescent fluid.

"That's it, Babydoll," Eddie nipped the tip of his ear, sounding just as wrecked as he felt. "Be a good girl and come for your alpha's knot."

Steve whined at that.

He had been craving for the alpha's cock since they started messing around. But he had to preserve his purity for his future mate.

And it wasn't like Eddie would want to be involved with him outside of their make-shift game anyway.

Steve was aware of the hard truth: he was good to play with, but never good enough to be kept around.

Those people who had left him made it clear how unlovable he was.

He whimpered when Eddie pulled out carefully and glanced away shyly when the alpha placed a soft kiss on his hipbone.

Steve never questioned that gesture. Never asked aloud why Eddie would always do it every time they finished.

Because he feared Eddie would stop doing so if he pried too much.

It didn't matter what Steve wanted to know, he just kept his mouth shut and tried to ignore his flustering heart, tried to swallow all those chirps and trills that always threatened to slip out of him.

But Steve found it hard to maintain his cool when every time without fail, a hand would come up to stroke the side of his face gently.

"Look at me, Sweetheart."

Right, Eddie had a habit of checking in once the alpha was done liquifying Steve's brain with those deft fingers and that clever tongue.

Eddie would insist on helping clean him up and then wrapping him in a soft quilt that smelled of sunlight and apples.

Steve would be given a mug of warm milk and allowed to hang around until he decided to go home.

Much to his embarrassment, he had cried the first time Eddie took care of him.

Although he had gotten better at accepting the alpha's gratuitous kindness these days, he wasn't exactly immune to it.

When Steve complied, he was met with warm brown eyes that always gazed at him with things he wasn't allowed to hope for. Warmth, kindness, and adoration.

He suddenly didn't want this to end.

So he wasn't one to be blamed for what he blurted out, "Do you want to fuck me?"

Eddie only gave him an amused look, "I thought that ship had sailed a long time ago when I asked to eat you out, Bambi."

Steve blushed at that. Yeah, he realized how stupid his question was. But still, he had to make sure.

"My heat will arrive next week," he licked his lips nervously. "So do you wanna–"

Before he could finish, Eddie was on him and crowded him against the headboard.

"You said your little virgin pussy is exclusive to your future mate," the alpha narrowed his eyes at him, wild and dangerous. "What changed your heart?"

"You," Steve hissed. "It's you, Munson. I want you to be my alpha."

Eddie grasped his jaw and murmured hoarsely. "Say that again."

"I want you to be my alpha," Steve bit out.

"Again."

"I want you to be my alpha."

"Again."

"I want you to be my alpha."

"Again."

"I love you!" Steve shouted at that stupidly handsome face. "Fuck you, Munson!"

"Attagirl," Eddie finally smiled at him, pleased and smug before capturing him in a fervent kiss.

When they parted, the alpha pulled Steve into his lap and peppered him with small kisses.

"Love you too, sweet baby," Eddie pecked at the tip of his nose. "Been crazy about you for years."

Bracing his hands on broad shoulders, Steve raised his brow hopefully, "So my heat..?"

Eddie's finger came up to tap lightly at his mating gland. "Let me dine and wine you first, Angel. And then, when your heat passes, I'm gonna court you and we'll talk about our future together."

"Didn't know you'd be the old-fashioned type," Steve said teasingly.

"I'm not," Eddie shook his head and looked at him fondly. "But you deserve all the good things in the world, pretty baby. And if it means I have to spend months courting you, then so be it."

Steve let out a chirp at that.

It was so sudden and unexpected that he didn't have time to react.

But Eddie's pleased grumble had stopped him from overthinking.

"I think I'd like you to court me," Steve met those loving eyes and smiled softly. "Alpha."

In response, Eddie only pulled him into a tender kiss.

It seemed Steve had become addicted, not to the drugs, but to something better.

He had become addicted to Eddie Munson.

And it might be the best thing that had ever happened to him.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #omegaverse #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #babygirl steve harrington #smitten eddie munson #steve ‘i don’t think i’d ever be good enough' harrington #eddie 'you're my fucking world baby' munson #sionewritesatmidnight

[batsplat]

Your post about sete/vale rivalry is literally so informative it's like a pivotal post to fully understand the way valentino's mind works. You're his friend just up to the point you are not (mainly after perceived crimes not backed up by any real proof apparently). Valentino literally turbodivorced every guy he was friendly with in the paddock (and the irony of two of those turbodivorces happening in the same place isn't lost on me)

I did do my best to keep marc out of that post and let the parallels speak for themselves but like. yes

what's interesting to me about this rivalry is that it's... kind of his first rodeo. I mean he'd obviously had rivals before and a feud and all that and him and biaggi were constantly *gestures* - but one of the most common complaints about valentino is that he switches up towards you when you actually become a serious threat. which!! I still fully believe to some extent is natural, this is sports, they're competing, and I take more seriously with some of valentino's victims than with others. (melandri is always the one where I'm a bit? valentino no offence but why would you bother, in 2005 there wasn't a title fight and in 2006 valentino actually got on really well with two of the four other main contenders and at the very least didn't actively have a problem with dani. so maybe just a melandri problem question mark.) but I do feel like sete was... maybe not the first, but the first that was this extreme. and, very much topic for another post, but he really does learn a lot from the sete rivalry. a lot of the tactics and performance art and all of that, how he uses all of it to demoralise his enemies - this rivalry was kinda the blueprint

but, at the same time, of course it was a different valentino that marc ended up fighting, and not just in terms of how fast and competitive valentino was at that stage of his career. this is something that's quite hard to get across sometimes, because the natural inclination is to just... look at all the past instances in which valentino was a dick and conclude that he has, in fact, always been a dick. but he wasn't just statically malevolent for a twenty plus year career, and it's important to... reinsert context to assess how he developed as a rider and as a character during that time. it's not twenty non-stop years of valentino feuding. and marc is facing a valentino who had inevitably changed as a result of years of injury and poor results on a poor bike. valentino was pretty open in 2012 that he was returning to yamaha after two years on a donkey of a bike to, y'know, see if he was still fast, if he still had it in him - because he genuinely did not know (stop me if this reminds you of anyone more recently). he was so frustrated in 2013 with constantly finishing in fourth place that he took the truly radical step of firing his crew chief jb. one more try, one more change up to see if he could still be fast

it was only in 2014, where, okay he was losing to marc, but he could feel that he was competitive again, he could semi-regularly beat jorge and dani at the very least... then comes misano and he beats marc in a direct fight, draws an error out of him, gets him to crash, and marc shows up at his ranch and manages to strongly signal that he does actually really want to beat valentino. and that, in a way, shows that he was beginning to take valentino seriously as a competitor again (which I would suggest he wasn't doing at the end of 2013). that's something that's easy to miss about the ranch episode: yes, it's notable how much they were treating each other like hardened rivals, but it was also notable they were doing so in 2014, given the kind of season marc was having. maybe it truly was the worst possible timing. maybe it truly was the race in misano that made both of them go. hey. this really could be happening

but it's still a humbled version of valentino, it's still a version of valentino who has already kind of had to make his peace with the fact his time might very much be over. to me, in a way it's more dramatically satisfying if he did make peace with it, if he was more or less all right with marc making the sport his own. okay, there's always going to be a little bit of bitterness, a little bit of envy... because he wished he could still do what marc was doing, of course he did. but by the end of 2013, he knew it was more likely than not he would never be involved in another title fight. he thought his career might be ending after the 2014 season. he told the world if he wasn't competitive in the early races in 2014 then that would be that, and I think he meant it

there was no guarantee he'd have a season like 2015 - sure, he was working harder than ever and making radical personnel choices, all in the hope he still had something more to give... but he didn't know it would happen. it was really really unlikely!! there's a giddiness to him in early 2015, almost like he couldn't quite believe himself he'd get that chance. and then, yes, he does withdraw from marc, he does go back into title fight mode... but relatively speaking, this is still a more agreeable version of valentino. this is still a version of valentino who is determined to not start shit with jorge - it's odd to watch, but in those 2015 pressers valentino is constantly engaging him in conversation, at a time in which the marc chatter was already dropping off pretty sharpish

(incidentally, I think vale was proper pissed off at how jorge reacted to the whole sepang thing and how jorge was angry with valentino, which is very funny to me. like at catalunya 2016 vale's going!! I actually made an effort with this bitch!! I was nice to him for three years, does that count for nothing??)

valentino also doesn't blow shit up over assen, even though by his standards marc should be giving him plenty of reason to. he's definitely cooled off towards marc, but he's still giving him the benefit of the doubt where he wouldn't have done so with past rivals - which, yes, I do think partly reflects how he felt about marc, but also reflects how he was approaching that year and that phase of his career as a whole. he didn't really want drama; he wasn't really looking for any distractions from the actual title fight. which doesn't mean that he wasn't already changing his behaviour towards his competitors in response to the demands of the season - it's just a question of the extent. here from a write-up of assen 2015 (I don't entirely agree on the point of the effectiveness of valentino's mind games, though I do agree - like valentino himself does - with the general idea that most of the work needs to be done on-track):

in the end, he cracked. I guess that's what generally happens when you put someone under that kind of pressure - you make them revert to type. valentino wasn't arrogant or entitled or over-confident in that season, he was desperate. he'd been given this unexpected chance and he was throwing everything he had into making it work. body, mind, soul, all of it, wringing himself out in pursuit of this dream. he could feel it slipping away at several points that season... that four race jorge win streak where he led every single lap and it was kind of like? okay, you just can't do anything about that. valentino can't match that, not at this stage of his career. or brno, after which they were level on points and jorge led on countback and it just felt like valentino so obviously had a consistent pace deficit that surely this could only go one way. all these moments where it felt like it might actually be over, in the least dramatic way imaginable. in many ways, this wasn't really a title fight that should ever have been so close - and it's to valentino's credit as a rider, his versatility and willpower, that he was even able to push things as far as he did. but he did know he was hanging on by a thread, and he ended up playing the last hand he felt he had available

obviously, it wasn't really rational calculation that made him do what he did in sepang - though there probably was an element of, y'know, might as well. but he believed he detected a pattern of behaviour in marc - not entirely incorrectly, because it did feel like marc approached his battles with valentino differently - and fashioned himself a conspiracy on the basis of it. he hoped it could change the momentum one last time; he decided to make one final roll of the dice. and then, of course, marc reacted in a way that has ensured valentino will never stop believing in his conspiracy theory. because of course marc did, because of course he never would have taken it lying down. because valentino knew from the moment marc engaged him in that battle at sepang that it was almost certainly all over, because he lost his temper - which usually helps him, except when it doesn't. because they both lost their tempers and ended up just wanting to hurt each other, to prove a point. because that's who they both are

the main point I'm trying to make here is kind of.... it's just how I personally read the sete stuff - yes, these are the same patterns of behaviour, yes, a lot of parallels do obviously present themselves. I've long felt that sete is the single most significant valentino feud to understanding what happened with marc. he's the only other one who valentino was friends with, the only other one valentino felt hurt by on a personal level, the only other one who valentino changed his behaviour towards from one day to the next. and I think under the right circumstances, if you give valentino enough of an excuse and enough of a prize to aim for and have planted enough seeds of suspicion in advance... you can get this situation where the competitive paranoia takes control and he buys into this whole betrayal narrative and he decides he needs to go nuclear. and it also gave him a script to follow - one he knew could work because it had. except of course it could have gone very wrong in 2004 too. what happens if he's so desperately determined to ruin sete that he bins it in phillip island and finds himself only barely ahead in the points going into the title decider? compare that race to phillip island 2009 - obviously, there's a sizeable difference between the level of opposition (especially at that circuit) and the '09 race probably wasn't winnable, but he still ends up eventually deciding to settle for second behind casey because he doesn't want to risk losing the championship to jorge. he's not casey's biggest fan either, but he never came close to losing his head fighting him. it's different. he might do some of his finest riding when he's angry, but where there's anger there's also volatility. and, on occasion, there's also some really bad choices

if 2004 is the moment where he's properly learning to play these games, then 2015 is him falling back on these tools when he really had basically discarded them. it'd been five years since he'd engaged in mind games in earnest (I know him and casey were constantly at it in 2011-12, but whatever the hell that was about, whatever part of their psyches they were appeasing there, it obviously had fuck all to do with on-track competition). that's a long time! there's a 2014 interview where he's asked about his work on the 'mental side' against his rivals:

the first thing he immediately stresses is that there's zero point in doing any of this if you're not fast enough on-track to back it up. if you are fast, sure, you can do some off-track 'work', especially if you know it makes your rivals suffer :) but it won't have the same effect without the on-track performance. so even if we want to say valentino hadn't mellowed post-2012, even if he hadn't grown one jot humbler in his heart of hearts, even if he wasn't swayed by any genuine fondness for marc, he still knew the maths just didn't work out in his favour with his current opponents. he couldn't deploy his favourite tactics against jorge because jorge insisted on spending the entire season either two spots ahead or three spots behind valentino, and the off-track stuff just can't work if you're never sharing space on-track. it could and did work against marc, but he wasn't trying to score psychological victories against marc! certainly not by the time they reached assen and marc was basically out of that title fight. so there wouldn't have been any point in trying to fuck with either of them in that way off-track and, well, it could easily backfire. which is something valentino understood perfectly well until they were 88.9% of the way through the season, and then he changed his mind at what was almost the very last possible moment. which I think speaks to how desperate valentino was to make a mistake like he did at sepang: he felt it was all he had left to try

the other way in which marc comes into this whole thing is that.... I mean, he knew about all this stuff! this is the thing right, maybe he wasn't watching the sepang 2004 press conference as an eleven year old and later going 'huh' but broadly speaking, he will obviously have been aware of how this went down, qatar controversy and all of it. he's sitting right there in that jerez 2015 presser when valentino is asked about sete and in response valentino says sete played 'dirty games'. he's obviously aware of the whole jerez 2005 situation, not least because he copied valentino's overtake in his third ever premier class race. which in turn sete was watching unfold, and is still having thoughts about in 2023:

so it's kind of... y'know, you've got marc, you've got someone who's still very much the heir apparent despite all the drama between him and valentino. if you're sete, do you look at marc and see somebody who valentino hurt in similar ways to what he did to you, or do you look at marc and see another version of valentino? do you see both? it's again that thing of, if you have a problem with some of valentino's more aggressive riding then you will definitely have a problem with marc. because of course marc is the escalation, because valentino generally picked his moments a bit more and adjusted his levels of aggression more to the situation, whereas marc is mostly just Like That. so sure, if you're sete gibernau you can look at marc and see another one of valentino's victims, but at the end of the day you're also going to see his legacy

and this from 2017:

not an original thing to say obviously, half of motogp has said it at one point or another. but. still. meaningful to me!

that tension between 'fellow valentino rival' and 'valentino's successor' is imo inherent to the jerez pass situation, because (along with laguna seca) it's an example of marc actively inserting himself into valentino's legacy. and the thing is, right, these aren't just neutral fun passes that everyone remembers because they looked cool: they're the biggest flashpoints of their respective feuds. marc did to jorge what valentino did to sete - and then he did the most valentino thing imaginable and went to jorge when he must have known jorge would still be furious, making him publicly reject his handshake and starting up a whole lot of discourse™ that would take forever to die down. marc knew immediately how controversial what he did would be and was completely at home in the chaos. it's not just the pass that does valentino proud, it's the shamelessness

while that race might not have had the same repercussions as '05, at the end of the day you do have to remember that those passes have a lot of baggage and controversy attached that marc is also making himself a part of. in the case of laguna, it's valentino addressing livio suppo in the presser because of all the grief suppo and casey had given valentino over the '08 overtake. in the case of the jerez pass, it's sete talking about how alienated he is by this whole approach to riding that marc so completely embodies. and the whole thing has come up quite a few times since 2013, because everyone loves bringing up last corner passes at least once a year when they show up again at jerez

so for instance we have this clip from 2016 (fourth race of the season, vibes still in hell), where the riders are asked whether they'd prefer to be in first, second or third position heading into that final corner. not all too much to say about this one, really. jorge, who it seems has at long last learned his lesson about what to do when you've got a lunatic sitting on your rear wheel headed into the final corner of a race, stresses that he'd protect the inside line - not least because these two fuckers would dive on the inside through the grass if you give them half a chance. also, decent gag from marc! good on him. not always easy for those who have decided they hate him so much so that they refuse to laugh at anything he says

then we have this from 2017 - where sete is in the room - asking four riders who they'd want to arrive at jerez's final corner with. three guys give pretty boring answers, though you'll note in 2017 valentino does actually mention his battle with sete (*gestures with his head in sete's direction*) in the same breath as the one between "marc and jorge". those three boring answers are followed by a great response courtesy of jorge. the question doesn't actually specify, but obviously jorge immediately zeroes in on valentino and marc since they are. you know. the two guys with a history of doing last corner jerez crimes. and they're also two confirmed lunatics, though jorge believes that valentino at least might be a little less reckless now that he's a little older. hey, maybe even marc has become 3% more sensible at the advanced age of 24 (funnily enough, vale when making that overtake in '05 was two years older than marc is in this clip). it's a sweet moment - but, without wanting to belabour the obvious, it's also another way of showing how irrevocably linked both the passes and the blokes executing them are. both valentino and marc are 'hard brakers', to put it lightly. two peas in a pod, from a man who would know

we do also of course get sete reacting to valentino's answer. idk what this facial expression is but I sure am compelled by it (thank u to dani pedrosa for working with sete in 2017 so that we'd get live sete reaction shots. I am very grateful)

okay so those two I included because. well it's just kind of neat and fun that this is a parallel they won't ever escape. linked legacies and all that. but I am actually building up to a point here, and it's to do with how even post-2015, it's not like marc is always overflowing with sympathy and compassion for valentino's other victims. he knows his lore! he will know at least the general details of the sete relationship and how it deteriorated and what valentino did to him afterwards! so let's bring in austria 2017, a time at which the vibes between the two of them aren't actually. catastrophic. exhibit a:

so in this presser, valentino is asked if his overtake on jorge at catalunya '09 is the favourite of his career, and he says it was special because it was the last corner - he can't remember any other examples of him making a last corner overtake in the premier class. at which point marc taps valentino to point out sete:

the expression marc makes in the thumbnail - that's how he looks when he's eagerly waiting for valentino to put two and two together. the thing is, right, this whole feuding business, the way valentino treated his rivals, how he was pretty awful to them... all of it will have been stuff that marc actively enjoyed as a fan. and even post-2015, when marc has experienced some of the very worst valentino has to offer, marc still finds the whole jerez thing pretty funny, not just the overtake but what it meant for the relationship between valentino and sete. he makes valentino aware of sete in the room, because of course he would never forget valentino's greatest hits. like, remember why this exchange is funny: everybody knows this overtake was a super controversial thing and a big source of tension between the two of them and valentino's forgotten about it. and marc's laughing at this!! in 2017!! "after we have a bit problems" and marc thinks it's hilarious!! buddy

one more presser moment, from 2019. just a bit of context here - earlier in the presser they were asked about dani getting a corner named after him at jerez and valentino went 'yeah good for him but I wouldn't want a corner named after me !!' and marc talked about how he'd gotten a corner at aragon named after him the year before. so now, the riders are asked what their favourite bit of the jerez circuit is. the joke here goes a) marc says 'last corner' the way he does because everyone knows he did a terrorism there, b) jack miller says 'you mean jorge lorenzo corner' because everyone knows it's funny marc did a terrorism on jorge there like a day after jorge got the corner named after him, and c) marc says 'it's valentino corner' because everyone knows his move was copying the move valentino did on sete. and... 'valentino corner'... first of all why would you do this to your literal teammate jorge lorenzo... but again the whole reason this exchange is funny is because the premise is that they did the same thing, valentino to sete and marc to jorge. implicitly, it's making the link between the pair of them and how they terrorised their rivals in the same way. still. in 2019

speaking of legacies, there's a moment in the 2016 catalunya presser where valentino is asked how that duel compares to his past duels in 2007 and 2009 at that circuit (notice the blatant and unchallenged sete erasure - 2004 and 2005 were really great but okay). and valentino says he counts it on the same level as the jorge fight - "was three great battles with three great opponents". which, y'know, I really love 2016, I think it's fantastic, but marc makes a mistake on the penultimate lap and denies us the most dramatic of finales. like I think it's completely reasonable and nice for valentino to count it in that same camp as the 2009 duel, but I also think it wouldn't have been crazy or disrespectful or anything if he'd gone 'yeah that was great but not quite the same thing'. this definitely might be reading too much into it (surely not) but given how valentino has since occasionally left marc out of the rivalries list, said he wasn't his toughest rival etc etc, I do think it's kinda notable that during that moment of 'reconciliation', valentino allowed marc to be part of his legacy - even if it's just in a small way. 'great valentino catalunya battles' is a pretty cool group of races to be a part of, y'know? the infamous overtakes, the duels, these are the things people remember. these are the things marc remembered, as valentino's fan - inevitably, it'll mean something to him. it's a legacy he wants to be a part of, by fighting valentino, by emulating valentino, and sometimes valentino lets him and sometimes he'd rather leave marc out in the cold. you'll note that in 2019 he doesn't really engage with the "valentino corner" gag from marc and instead goes with the far more neutral turn 5 as his own pick

in the very very immediate aftermath of sepang (aka december 2015), marc did openly make the comparison between himself and valentino's other rivals:

and it's informed his whole approach since then - it's a big part of why he's tried to be quiet about the drama with valentino over the years. he knows how valentino behaves towards his rivals, he always has. he knows he can't beat valentino off-track... but (beyond his undeniable mental resilience) he's just fortunate enough that with his talent and the way their career windows have overlapped, more often than not he's been able to out-perform valentino on the track. and y'know, it's an interesting element to the whole thing I feel... marc was a fan of valentino's for a lot of reasons - he was very much a fan of the complete package, if you will. including what valentino did to his enemies! it's not like that aspect of vale was some kind of closely guarded secret; it was like a top three valentino rossi talking point for years and years. (part of the subtext of assen 2015 is marc not really enjoying being on the receiving end of one of those classic valentino scam wins, when marc had been intending to do that to valentino.) again, those overtakes of valentino's weren't just famous because they were cool, they were famous because they helped valentino fuck with his rivals. it's not just about emulating his on-track aggression, it's about emulating how valentino did his best to get in his rivals' heads. when we talk about marc 'being a fan' of valentino, then it shouldn't be ignored that this involved marc being a fan of what an absolute and utter asshole valentino was. and like with all things relating to valentino, I'd wager marc has pretty complicated feelings about this. at the end of the day that's also part of his make up as a rider... but it also really burnt him personally...

it's almost like an identification thing, isn't it. if you're marc and you're thinking about valentino's past rivalries, whose shoes are you placing yourself in? in many ways it should be valentino's rivals, because of course some of their experiences mirror marc's. and there's a rare moment in the winter of 2015, when he's still in the process of trying to make sense of everything that's happened, where he does make the connection. but apart from that, he's shied away from it - even when he's criticising valentino, he's generally not framing what valentino did to marc as indicative of some broader character flaw. it's casey and jorge who explicitly make that link, not marc. he's still kind of... idk, separating that out. obviously, marc would far rather be valentino's successor than another one of valentino's victims, even if he hasn't really been given a choice in the matter and has ended up being both. I don't really have any evidence to back this up, but my guess is that deep down he feels like what valentino did to him was different from what he did to those other guys. and in some ways he's right and in some ways he's wrong

unfortunate, isn't it. you're a fan of somebody with a reputation for fucking with his enemies, which is fun and neat and you kinda want to copy how he does it - maybe put your own spin on the whole thing but you're still into the general vibe. you enter the sport at a time when you can still fight your hero, but he's kinda washed and he's too old to be starting new feuds (*bzzzzt!!* incorrect! you are never too old to start feuds) so there's no real danger. and you share a bond you think on some level is different from whatever those other guys had going on, even sete gibernau, whoever tf that is. and then you become real rivals and realise how extremely not enjoyable it is to be losing to him yourself and you really want to show him and maybe you do push it a little far along the way. but it'll be okay. it's all fine... until he decides it's time to destroy you. and on one level you do obviously see the parallels because you're not an idiot... but on the other hand, none of that stuff, none of what he did to those other guys - it wasn't ever going to stop you from being a fan of his. it's the bits he did to you that are the problem. and at the end of the day, you'll never quite be able to let go of the twelve year old boy inside of you who found jerez 2005 really, really cool

anyway

#anitalianfrie #rosquez #// #sg15 #4693 #society if tumblr allowed you to upload more than one video per post >>>> #I hate how speculative the last few paragraphs are. badly sourced psychological analysis but well #this wasn't actually meant to be a sepang 2015 post bUT this was a follow-up post waiting to be written lbr. give me an excuse etc #anyway this post is incredibly incoherent but. shrug. idk how to fix it so whatever #i've seen a few posts here that slightly have the tone of 'oh if only marc had known how valentino behaved towards casey stoner' #listen. he did know. he probably thought it was fantastic. idk what to tell you #you'll note the dec 2015 quote implies casey 'lost' the off-track battle with valentino which I'm not sure casey would be a massive fan of #marc and vale both had a bit of a case of not like other girls about each other and y'know in a way that's still true. just in a sadder way

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not being entirely negative about AI?

05/16/2024

Just before anyone scrolls down just to vote YTA, please hear me out: I'm not an AI bro, I am a hobbyist artist, I do not use generative AI, I know that it's all mostly based off stolen work and that's obviously Bad.

That being said, I am also an IT major so I understand the technology behind it as well as the industry using it. Because of this I understand that at this point it is very, very unlikely that AI art will ever go away, I feel like the best deal out of it that actual artists can get out of it is a compromise on what is and isn't allowed to be used for machine learning. I would love to be proven wrong though and I'm still hoping the lawsuits against Open AI and others will set a precedent for favouring artists over the technology.

Now, to the meat of this ask: I was talking in a discord sever with my other artist friends some of which are actually professionals (all around same age as me) and the topic of discussion was just how much AI art sucks, mostly concerning the fact that another artist we like (but don't know personally) had their works stolen and used in AI. The conversation then developed into talking about how hard it is to get a job in the industry where we live and how AI is now going to make that even worse. That's when I said something along the lines of: "In an ideal world, artists would get paid for all the works of theirs that are in AI learning databases so they can have easy passive income and not have to worry about getting jobs at shitty companies that wouldn't appreciate them anyway." To me that seemed like a pretty sensible take. I mean, if could just get free money every month for (consensually) putting a few dozens of my pieces in some database one time, I honestly would probably leave IT and just focus on art full time since that's always been my passion whereas programming is more of a "I'm good at it but not that excited about doing it, but it pays well so whatever".

My friends on the other hand did not share the sentiment, saying that in an ideal world AI art would be outlawed and the companies hiring them would not be shitty. I did agree about the companies being less shitty, but disagreed about AI being outlawed. I said that the major issue with AI are the copyright concerns so if tech companies were just forced to get artist's full permission to using their work first as well as providing monetary compensation there really wouldn't be anything wrong with using the technology (when concerning stylized AI art, not deepfakes or realistic AI images as those have a completely different slew of moral issues).

This really pissed a few of them off and they accused me of defending AI art. I had to explain to them that I wasn't defending AI art as it was NOW, because I know that the way it works NOW is very harmful, I was just saying that as an IDEAL scenario, not even something I think is particularly realistic, but something I think would be cool if it were actually possible. The rest of the argument was honestly just spinning in circles with me trying to explain the same points and them being outraged at the fact that I'm not 100% wholeheartedly bashing even the mere concept of AI until I just got frustrated and left the conversation.

It's been about a week and I haven't spoken to the friends I had that argument with since then. I still interact on the server and I see them interacting there too but we just kinda avoid each other. It's making me rethink the whole situation and wonder if I really was in the wrong for saying that and if I should just apologize.

#aita #am i the asshole

[lilycolbertsstuff]

Ok let’s talk all things Bridgerton.

First things first, we’ve all binged it the day that it came out, right?

Second, Nicola Coughlan the woman that you are.

Now let’s move on to the serious stuff.

I have to say that so far I’m liking this season but there are some things that I really don’t understand, namely all the subplots. Some of them should’ve either been cut or they should’ve had less screen time. I understand for example the introduction of Francesca and John because of how their story plays out in the future but what about the Mondriches? Don’t get me wrong I like their characters and their chemistry but I really don’t get why they’re such a prominent part of this season, hopefully their presence will be justified in part 2 for it would be heartbreaking to see unnecessary hate towards them.

Another aspect I liked is Eloise and Cressida’s friendship. In the beginning I didn’t think it would be something genuine but turns out that El does actually come to care for Cressida, who is finally not just relegated to being the mean girl.

Kate and Anthony are a dream to watch on screen, their chemistry is out of this world and they most definitely deserve the long ass honeymoon for god knows how hard these two have worked for their families.

I found Francesca to be such an interesting character and her and John were cute but the side couple that I’m really curious about is Violet and lady Danbury’s brother.

The Featheringtons were a highlight of this season to me. They had no business being this funny. Every time a scene with them came on I was prepared to laugh.

Queen Charlotte and lady Danbury are such icons you can’t help but love them.

Last but not least, Benedict. My boy what have they done to you? It’s so painfully obvious that they didn’t know what to do with his character because give me a valid reason why his storyline this time around is him going to bed with a widow; I would’ve much rather liked to see him in those artists’ parties or whatever like he did in season one and maybe explore more of that aspect of his personality in preparation for his own season, which hopefully will be next.

Time to talk about the leads:

I wish we could’ve seen more of Colin’s identity crisis but I feel like whenever the script was lacking Luke did a great job compensating with his body language and facial expressions. Also can we all agree that he’s just so whipped for Pen after their first kiss?

As a fellow wallflower I really related to the scenes where Penelope felt frustrated with the ton and all the socialising. I can confirm that even when we get all dolled up and feel confident in our own skin for once it’s still so hard to put ourselves out there. We feel called by the wall and somehow we find it more fascinating to observe all the different dynamics going on around us rather than actively taking part in them, even if sometimes we want to.

The scenes where Pen threw herself on her bed and sighed? Yep, I felt that.

I honestly didn’t mind that Colin and Pen got together by the end of the first part of the season for we’ve been watching the build up to their relationship for three seasons now. These two have been friends for ages so it’s not like they had to go through all that getting to know each other phase. Furthermore, I’m pretty sure that part 2 will focus on the unfolding of the lady whistledown storyline and having Colin and Pen be together makes more sense because now he loves and wants to marry her leading to an even more crushing reveal.

The carriage scene?! I died and resurrected in the span of like 3 minutes, and that’s just their first intimate scene I don’t know what will happen to me with the ones to come.

These were my overall thoughts on Bridgerton season 3. I can’t wait till part 2 comes out but also I will be deep in exam season so it’ll be a wild ride, let’s hope everything turns out for the best.🐝🩵

#bridgerton #polin #bridgerton season 3 #kanthony #penelope featherington #colin x penelope #colin bridgerton #romancing mr. bridgerton #carriage scene #netflix #tv shows #tv series #nicola coughlan #luke newton #johnathan bailey #simone ashley #claudia jessie #luke thompson #hannah dodd

[selfloverrrrrr]

Pls write a yandere Gojo who is convinced reader is his soulmate, but reader doesn’t know it all; she only notices him staring at her a lot, and she thinks he hates her so she tries to avoid him, which just frustrates him more. This goes on until a guy (Nanami maybe?) asks her on a date while Gojo was eavesdropping. Gojo finally snaps (maybe kidnaps reader and makes her promise to turn Nanami down or something idk)

I keep thinking about this

Soulmates~

Warnings : Noncon kissing, biting, size difference, Yandere Gojo, protective, jealous, obsessive, manipulative, soulmate Au....

Summary: Nanami invite y/n on a date. But Gojo believes that's his soulmate. Gojo won't let Nanami take from him what's his!

( All characters are aged up/18+)

Masterlist

Minors Do Not Interact

Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report

Me and Gojo were friends from high school. We were good friends from then... I didn't know he likes me. Nobody did. Nobody knew that Gojo Satoru has a crush on me. Oh no... that's not a crush that's obsession. He was obsessed with me. Always stalking me, following me everywhere, staring at me at college. But he never let anyone notice that.

But high school was 10 years ago. We're adults now. We all work for jujutsu high now. But still gojo didn't changed. He's still stalking me, following me everywhere, staring at me anytime he sees me. But he still never let anyone notice that.

The thing about gojo is that he believes in soulmates so much. He told me too that how much he believes in soulmates. He said his family told him to get married with Utahime, mei mei but he refused. Because he knows they are not his soulmate. I asked him then who does he thinks his soulmate is...he said it's me... But I laughed because I thought he was flirting with me.

Gojo: why are you laughing?

Me: because of your flirting skills...

Gojo: I'm not flirting... I'm telling you the fact...

Me: okey.... tell me the fact.

Gojo: look you know I have infinity.... right?

Me: yeah

Gojo: and you know it too that no-one can touch me if I don't turn off the infinity?

Me: yupp

Gojo: do you know that for infinity users their soulmate can only touch them without turning off the infinity?

Me: what... really?

Gojo: yupp... lemme show you.... *Screams* hey Utahime??? Can you come here for a minute please?

Gojo said and Utahime was talking with Yaga and then came towards us.

Utahime: what happened?

Gojo: nothing... can you touch me...

Utahime: eh? What kind of request is that?

Gojo: just do it please...

Utahime raised her hand and went to touch Gojo's shoulder but her hand stopped because of Gojo's infinity.

Gojo: Now y/n... you touch me

Gojo said putting his hand infront of me. I raised my hand to touch his hand and I TOUCHED HIS HAND??!!

Me: what!!! How??? You definitely turned off your infinity!

Gojo: no I didn't... okey you both try to touch me at the same time.

Me and Utahime tried to touch him at the same time but Utahime's hand stopped but mine didn't!

"You believe me now...?" Gojo asked smirking at me. Are we really soulmates?!

It was a normal day. Nanami asked me for a dinner that night. I agreed with him. Because it was just a friendly dinner... Gojo saw us when Nanami was talking with me about the dinner...

I was in my home. My doorbell rang. I opened the door and it was Gojo. "Oh...hey" I said. "Hello sweetheart" he replied. I let him come inside. He sit on the couch and I sit beside him. "I heard you're going on a date with Nanami?" Gojo asked. "Oh... it's not a date .. it's just a friendly dinner" I replied. "That's definitely a date" he responds. I looked at him confusedly.

"do you want to see me dead?" He asked looking at me. "Wtf... What kind of question was that? Ofcourse not... you're my close friend!" I replied. "We're not just friends y/n...why don't you understand it!?" He said. "What do you mean?" I asked.

"didn't I told you we're soulmates??? I even proved it to you... still you don't believe me???" He asked. "Gojo it's not like that.." I said but gojo cut me off. "I see... You want me to prove you once again...huh? Fine... look at this!" Gojo said and undid his shirt's buttons. There a dark spot on Gojo's left chest. "OMG!!!! What happened???? Are you okey? Did you show it to Shoko???" I asked. Lightly put my hand on the spot.

"y/n look at me..." Gojo said and cupped my face with both of his hands. I looked at him. "This thing happened today morning.... when you agreed with Nanami to go on the date.... Y/n I'm giving you so many proves that We Are Soulmates!!!! Why don't you believe me???" He said and tears coming from his eyes. I just looked at him in shock. " I told my family that I've found the one....you are the one... And now you're hurting me...do you know how fucking much is this hurting???!!!" He said and placed my one hand on his chest buries. "It hurts so much... it's like as if I'm dying.... Do you want me to die??? Y/n I love you too much and you don't even care about me? You don't care that I'm dying??? Only your love can stop this.... please there's still time... please understand me! Please love me!!!" Gojo sobbed. Nonstop tears falling down from his eyes.

"No no no Gojo .....no it's not like that... I'm so sorry.... I won't let you die... fuck... okey I'm sorry I'm so sorry... I'll love you.... I mean I love you... don't worry " I said looked at him with doe eyes. He looked at me with teary eyes. Suddenly he pressed his lips on mine. My eyes widened but I kissed him back.

After a few minutes we pulled away. Gojo looked at me. "Will you go on a dinner with me tonight... please???" He asked. I nodded. He smiled. The he went up to leave. I said bye to him and locked the door.

When I locked the door Gojo turned around and smirked. " Fuck, y/n.... You were so easy to manipulate.... you are mine..... JUST MINE" he whispered and started walking to his home.

Give me your requests guys....

I love when you give me your requests 💕

#jjk #smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #tw noncon #fem reader #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #gojo noncon #dark content #dark blog #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere gojo #obbsessive #possessive #jealousy

[restinslices]

.

Can I request a scenario where the lin kuei brothers, after rescuing the reader from an enemy who was torturing the reader, react to the hijacked!reader(idk, if you read/watched the hunger games especially mockingjay, if you didn't then hijacking in hunger games is a form brainwashing involving the venom of tracker-jackers(mutated wasps whose venom can cause hallucinations and can painfully kill a person) to alter the memories of a person in a negative manner), who reacts violently towards them and bring afraid of them, calling them a monster and verbally berating them.

I haven’t seen those movies in years but I watched some videos and looked at the wiki so I hope I got it right! I also added a Drabble for everyone as a “my bad” cause I took so long.

Also it is 5:09pm. The danger time (look at previous post. Weather shit) is until 7pm. I’m hoping we stay fine but bitch it’s raining and I hear thunder and saw lightning. Send help😭

Bitch I’m proof reading and my lights flickered-

Anger is much easier and better to feel than sadness or grief, so he forces himself to feel that instead 

The second he realizes that you've been taken by enemies, he's in a rage 

He's visibly more angry and harsh towards everyone 

He hardly sleeps or lets himself relax because that means he's not looking for you 

Someone could take a break to sit and he's asking why they aren't doing anything to help 

Once you're found he's relieved and wants to see you immediately 

All that stress slips from his shoulders when he sees that you're alive and safe 

That stress is immediately dumped back on his shoulders when instead of pulling him into a hug, you run at him and wrap your hands around his throat 

As you can imagine, he has no problem pushing you off, but he's thrown so off guard because why would he ever expect you to attack him?

You don't come to your senses and his confusion rises when you attack him again by jumping on him and trying to strangle him again 

If you weren't trying to murder him, he'd be impressed with how you hang on despite how many times he's hit you 

Having to knock you out takes a lot out of him mentally. I mean, come on y'all. You were missing for so long and instead of hugging and loving each other when you finally saw each other, you attacked him like a wild animal and he actually had to defend himself 

When he's told what Hijacking is, all that anger comes back 

Some sick fuck took you from him, tortured you in various ways and managed to change your memories to something negative. How could he not be angry? They destroyed you with such precision. It was sick. 

Bi-Han is advised not to see you again. Anyone could guess that he wouldn't listen 

He had hope that maybe you just needed rest, but that didn't seem to work 

You forgot you were strapped down and tried to run at him again. You fussed with your straps in an attempt to get free and yelled in frustration 

Bi-Han doesn't know what to say. In an attempt to comfort you, he says “we'll fix you”

“There's always something wrong with me, isn't there?” You sneered with resentment. 

He kept talking to you and it seemed like no memory was left safe. Every single memory was tainted. The image of him was tainted. Why? Why did this have to happen to someone as kind as you? Why not to him? Or, as dick head-ish it sounded, a random Lin Kuei member?

All his efforts go to finding a way to reverse it. And I can see him being angry at Liu Kang because he can't reverse it. It fuels a resentment he already holds for him

“Grandmaster, I have been instructed to not let you in this room” a Lin Kuei member said in his best stern voice. Bi-Han didn't have time for this. He had just been informed that somehow Liu Kang couldn't save you, which made absolutely no sense to him. Liu Kang, this powerful god that created the universe itself couldn't fix this one person in the universe? Someone who deserved to be saved the most out of everyone?

“Your Grandmaster didn't give you this order, did I?”. The Lin Kuei swallowed hard and tried to stammer something out, but Bi-Han pushed him out the way and went inside the formally blocked room. 

You looked over at him, still with hate in your eyes. Your brows were low, your mouth in a deep frown, your arms and legs strapped to the bed. Your face was less bruised than it was when you first arrived, so he guessed he was thankful for that. 

“You look like shit” you said. 

“I've been worried about you” he answered honestly.

“Bullshit. You lie. You always lie”

“Who told you that?” he stepped closer to you although he knew he shouldn't. “Our enemies made you think this. They lied to you. They tortured you because they knew it'd hurt me. Because I love you”. He wasn't sure he's loved anyone as much as he loves you. But you wouldn't believe him. You kept saying he was lying and you had no idea how much it killed him to see you, but not have you. 

You stared at him blankly while thinking. You smirked at him and motioned for him to come even closer. He didn't though. The various wounds he had kept him from keeping hope of you changing. 

“Do you think your father let out a sigh of relief when he realized he was dying and getting away from you? Your mother as well? Being around you is the worst torture imaginable and I can't wait until I'm set free too”. 

Kuai Liang vows that he'll find and bring you back home no matter what 

He's also uneasy and on edge the entire time 

No stone is left unturned. He's checking every possible area and is suspicious of everyone 

He knows you'll have some sort of trauma, so when you're found, he tries to give you space 

Just enough time for doctors to look you over 

When he visits you the last thing he expects is for you to do is scream and try to get away from him 

He tries to get closer to you and comfort you but you keep screaming and accusing him of trying to hurt you 

He's confused. He would never do such a thing to you. He hardly even play fought with you because he was so worried about him accidentally hurting you 

You keep clinging to the doctors and yelling at him to stay away 

He just doesn't understand how something like this can happen. He keeps trying to comfort you but you're terrified of him

He has to be dragged out because he doesn't wanna leave at all 

When he's told what's happened to you he's confused how this is even possible and he wonders if he can ever get you back 

It's not necessarily just “I want my partner back”. It's also “they didn't deserve to have their light taken away”

You stay terrified of him so he tries to stay away from you 

He checks in when you're sleep and he peeks at you when you're not paying attention 

A two way mirror is a way to watch you as well 

Honestly he'd rather have you angry at him than afraid of him

You look so broken and shaken and it's killing him 

The same way he vowed to find you is the same way he vows to save you 

Meanwhile he has other people talk to you for him. He's trying to see if maybe someone else can make you realize that he's not some monster that you've been brainwashed to believe 

It doesn't seem to work, but he keeps trying. He refuses to give up on you. 

Kuai Liang was warned that this could possibly be a bad idea, but he didn't care. What was he supposed to do? Not try? Just let you sit and rot? No. Maybe he didn't have any magical abilities that could cure you, but he could still try. 

He watched through the 2 way mirror as Tomas approached you. You were a lot nicer to him and more comfortable around him. As bad as it sounded, it made him feel awful that Tomas was your comfort instead of him. 

Tomas tried to ease you into a conversation about Kuai Liang and he watched you tense and sit up. Did you think he was going to rush in and attack you? No. There had to be some parts of you still in there. 

“Kuai Liang isn't a bad person. You've been lied to-”

“He killed your family”. 

Tomas cleared his throat, uncomfortable. “Kuai Liang was too young to-”

“They’re all killers!” You snapped. “They'll kill me! He'll kill me! Did he send you in here to weaken me?!” You looked around the room in fear and Kuai Liang stupidly ran in there to comfort you as a reflex.. He realized his mistake when he caught your eye and you fell out of your bed trying to get away. 

“HE'S HERE!” You screeched like a banshee and crawled to the farthest wall. “HE'S HERE! HE'S HERE!”. Tomas gripped Kuai Liang’s shoulders and pushed him away. He knew he shouldn't have been in there, but a part of him still fought back against the younger man. 

“GET AWAY! GET AWAY FAST! HE'S HERE! HE'S HERE! HE'LL HURT ME!” You kept screaming and clawed at your face. 

Tomas closed the door in Kuai Liang’s face with a remorseful look. The man stayed there and listened to you scream and destroy things around you. He didn't move or cover his ears. He deserved to listen. It was his punishment for not finding you in time. 

This is gonna sound bad, but when you go missing, he already assumes you're dead 

Hope for the best but prepare for the worst type shit 

He's no stranger to death and obviously he doesn't WANT you to be dead, but he prepares himself for if that's the case 

Don't think he's not searching tho. He’s always looking for you. He's not even eating 

When they find you he's so relieved 

He has the doctors tell him how you are because as much as he wants to see you, he knows he gotta let them do their job 

He feels so bad because all the reports he's getting are terrible. Each bruise he's told about shatters him 

He brings flowers when he's finally allowed to visit you 

When you attack him he's thrown completely off guard 

He doesn't even really defend himself at first because he's never had to defend himself from you 

At first he thinks you're angry with him because he failed to protect you. When he's told what really happened, he wished it was the first one instead 

He blames himself for not protecting you, so he'd understand that 

You being tortured and your memories being toyed with? It was terrible. He'd say he wished the tables were turned and he was tortured, but he'd never want you to feel how he feels 

He keeps trying to communicate with you but you keep screaming and trying to kill him 

Honestly he'd deal with all of that without any complaints. He just keeps being told it's not a good idea and not good for your recovery 

The insults, the foul language, the physical attacks, none of it hurts as much as the knowledge that there's a possibility he won't get you back 

He has gifts sent to you but never says it's from him 

He has old pictures sent to you too hoping that it'll spark something 

He'll keep trying to save you even if it kills him 

Tomas’ heart thumped hard and rapidly in his chest as he walked to your room, bouquet in hand. He knew flowers wouldn't solve whatever happened to you, but he hoped it'd cheer you up somewhat. He had finally been allowed to visit you after what felt like forever and while he wasn't happy to see how bad you looked, he was happy to see you alive. 

He pushed the door open and your frame came into view. Bandages covered the bruises on your face and body, but thankfully you had showered since you arrived. He hoped feeling clean gave you a sense of relief or peace. He just hoped you felt better. 

You saw Tomas and your brows furrowed- no. That couldn't be. You wouldn't look at him like… nah. 

“Tomas?” You said. 

“It's me”. He turned to set the flowers down and immediately heard people yelling your name. He turned, scared he'd see you having some sort of medical complication. What he didn't expect was to feel you shove him against the wall then onto the ground. 

“MUTT! POISONOUS MUTT!”. He screamed as he felt something pierce his shoulder. It was a scissor. He hadn't even seen you grab it. How were you that fast and why were you doing this?

“Stop!” he shouted. You stared at him with loathing and hatred, which was something he couldn't wrap his head around. He winced when you pulled the scissor out. 

He blocked you from stabbing him in the chest. You looked angered and pushed on your hand to try and stab him. “What's wrong with you?” he whispered, his eyes wide in fright. 

The scissor was ripped from your hand and you were pulled off him by multiple doctors and others who heard the commotion. He got to his feet and watched as you kept trying to break free from their grip. 

“MUTT! POISONOUS MUTT!” You repeated. “HE KILLED HIS FAMILY! HE'LL LEAD US TO OUR DEMISE! POISON! TOXIC!I HAVE TO KILL HIM!” You screeched and kept struggling. He held his bloodied shoulder in disbelief. 

What had happened to you?

Once again, apologies it took so long. My writing break was timed POORLY

#mk1 #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat 1 #bi han sub zero #bi han #kuai liang scorpion #kuai liang #tomas vrbada smoke #kuai liang mk1 #bi han mk1 #tomas vrbada mk1 #tomas vrbada #tomas vrbada headcanons #tomas vrbada angst #tomas vrbada x reader #bi han angst #bi han headcanons #kuai liang angst #bi han x reader #kuai liang x reader #mk1 angst #mk1 headcanons #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat angst

[rweoutofthewoods]

hey mere! so i just go around to reading tennessee baby and i just wanted to express my … disappointment i guess? don’t get me wrong here i love previous work vm usually u do jeggy so so much justice and i usually have such adoration for your characters but this one is really rubbing me the wrong way as james is essentially grooming reg and its promoting teachers and adults in general abusing their power with children. cause regulus might be of age but he’s still a child in comparison to james and just in general like 17-19 are still children they are teenagers and don’t have a fully developed brain and so the way you’re making it seem as if it’s regulus doing is just WRONG. like i don’t even have other word for it. and yes i get the whole don’t like it don’t read it but… how do you feel comfortable promoting stuff like this in the first place to your audience who previously hasn’t gotten the impression that you’d promote such violence in your fics yk?

anyways, i’m only sending this in hopes that you may have something say about it i guess cause as of right now i’m not sure if i’d even feel comfortable reading anything else you’d write in the future which is just heartbreaking to me as i’ve been following along with you for so long now!

If you have read my writing before then I hope you know that I don’t write anything as black and white. I write things that are purposefully wrong and the characters are supposed to be in the wrong.

This is something I run into a lot that is very frustrating to me because I can’t force anyone to understand my work. But I understand my work.

That is to say I’m not writing Tennessee Baby with the intention of saying any of this is good or alright. I’m not writing it to act like my characters are in the right. I don’t write things to be moral lessons on how a person should act because why should I? I plan my writing, I exist for it, I have thought out every single little detail and exactly what I’m portraying. which as the fic goes on, I think everyone will find is the exact opposite of “promoting violence” or any of this behavior to my audience.

So two things.

1. The fic is incomplete and very early in the story. Their relationship is just beginning and we’ve barely gone anywhere. It’s a bit premature to judge me morally on a story I’ve barely begun and I WILL touch on all the things and I’m not painting my characters as their actions being okay. But it takes time to write a story. You know who thinks regulus in control and at fault for their sexual relationship? REGULUS. In his pov only… maybe think about that and think about all the ways I’ve showed how he IS a kid despite being a legal adult. I know exactly what I’m writing, trust me. I think you don’t, and I can’t blame you bc the fic is so early in the plot, but it would be nice for people to trust me. Bc comments similar to your concerns pop up regarding a lot of my WIPs and I always know exactly what I’m doing and what my intentions are. So it’s a tad frustrating often feeling the need to defend my writing choices when ik if we just wait and read on everything will become clear.

2. I did warn multiple times exactly what the fic would contain and that it is immoral and it’s MEANT to be. None of this is supposed to be acceptable behavior and I have never acted as if it is.

So really I guess I’m a little disappointed in your response. If it’s not your cup of tea that’s fine! Not judging! It isn’t a nice happy unproblematic fic. If u went happy moral fluff there’s a million other fics for you. But this is the writer I am. I always HAVE been. I’ve written multiple cheating fics, I’ve written age gap, I’ve written characters killing people. Does that mean I believe in infidelity, murder, and student teacher relationships? no 😭that’s not how it works, and the things I write don’t morally define me at all. In fact most of my writing teaches a lesson. if you can’t understand that and don’t want to read my work anymore that’s fine, but I hope you consider why people might choose to purposefully write things that are wrong.

#mere answering things ;) #fic: tennessee baby

[freddiemercurylegendabovelegends]

Roger Taylor was born in Norfolk, on the east coast of England, and he spent his teens in Cornwall, the summer resort area in the southwest. His background was respectable and ordinary – “the boring middle class,” he calls it – but he’s been captivated by rock ‘n roll ever since the age of eight.

“It was like a bit of a dream then,” he says.

He started playing acoustic guitar at nine, and then when he was 12 he decided to take up drums and electric guitar. “Basically I was a frustrated guitarist,” he says. “But I seemed to be better at drums. My father just bought me a drum, and I took to it and started adding to it and found I could get along well.

Taylor was a 19-year-old dental student in London when he joined his first real band – an outfit called Smile which also included future Queen guitarist Brian May. He quit after a year of dental college because he “just couldn’t be bothered any more,” but then he decided to go back to school for a degree in biology from East London Polytechnic. But by that time Queen has been formed.

“Brian and I were very disillusioned,” he recalls. “But we had known Freddie and eventually, after about six months or so, Freddie persuaded us to start Queen working. Which we did. It was pretty hard going in the beginning. We had quite a few bass players, we went through about five or six until we found John, who was the only one who really fit in.” And after that came the problem of finding the right contract, which wasn’t accomplished until 18 months after the band’s formation, when they hooked up with the new production arm of Trident Studios.

“We wanted to do it right. We wanted the right contract with the right people. So we were really very careful. I think we could’ve moved a bit quicker, but I think that probably was the best idea. It took a lot of patience, a lot of faith, but we got a pretty good deal in the end. We were offered quite a lot of deals by virtually every major company over here, but this really seemed like the best thing to go for at the time.”

- Roger Taylor

Interview, 1975 - Circus

Queen’s Roger Meddows-Taylor – His hands are soft but his beat is hard

By Frank Rose

📸 Pic: Early 70s - Freddie Mercury with Roger Taylor sitting on Volkswagen Karmann Ghia (1955-1974)

#1975 #interview #legend #queen #brian may #john deacon #freddiebulsara #zanzibar #queen band #freddie mercury #london #roger taylor #uk #circus magazine #volkswagen

[royalarchivist]

I say this in the kindest way possible, but I think this style of prose is more appropriate for a personal account rather than an update account. I have no idea who's being talked about half the time. 🥲

[ Tumblr meme via @mikaikaika ]

#QSMP #Philza #Edited #Phil #Let me know if this needs an additional tag #I don't think this necessitates a discourse or neg tag or whatever because I'm being silly but I'm happy to add one if folks need it #I won't post this one on Twitter I don't think because I genuinely don't want to hurt anyone's feelings #but. I feel very strongly about this. It's not helpful #I say this as a fan and as a professional writer (who also worked in the Marketing and Communications field for far too long) #The prose is nice! It's very whimsical and they're having fun! But I don't think it's appropriate for an updates account #I recently turned off notifications for QsmpEN and I'm considering muting them because half the updates just aren't helpful to me #I want to be able to speed read through the update thread I don't want to spend an additional 30 seconds trying to decipher who's who #I don't like posting complaints so I tried to make it a funny complaint #because I do think feedback is good! And I know I'm not the only one who feels this way #but at the same time: these update writers ARE volunteers #(As a side note -- I personally think anyone running a large social media account should be paid) #(I did that for a few years and it was hell. I can't imagine doing that and NOT getting paid for it) #But anyways #They're all volunteers so I don't actually wanna go all pitchforks and torches on them (which I wouldn't do anyways even if they WERE paid) #I'm just venting my frustrations in what is (hopefully) a funny way #but you're welcome to disagree! That's ok too #Portfolio

[icewindandboringhorror]

Some (late) holiday photos of the boye~!

#cats #holiday #OUGHH....... barely could even get these edited and posted... my mysterious sickness flare up has been sooo bad the past few #days.. I didn't even go to the usual obligatory family christmas I was supposed to attend (!!! health issue/medical mention in tags below) #My stomach issues basically put me in a constant state of uncontrollable shivering/body shaking + nausea + sometimes rapid heart #rate. and when it happens at night that makes it like.. nearly impossible to sleep when you're violently shaking + you can feel your heart #so strong + you keep having to run to the bathroom every 5 minute to cough and gag #and throw up and so on and so forth. etc. So I went like 40 hours without any sleep almost for christmas eve and all of christmas day #last night I finally got maybe 2 hours of sleep in between the nausea and shaking and stuff. and then today I was able to get a few #hours of sleep in the afternoon. Today I tried taking an anxiety mediciation a doctor gave me in case it was anxiety related (it's apparent #ly used to relax people and works in the moment. rather than like Anxiety Mediciation that you have to take for weeks to see any effect #because I think this isn't actually acting on your brain chemistry it's judt like..a mild sedative or something.) but all that did was make #me dizzy and sweaty lol. I;m glad I slept a little but I'm just still frustrated that I don't feel normal. I started having these #'episodes' (with the stomach issues + shaking + heartrate + nausea etc.) like at the end of october. And usually it will happen for like a #few hours at a time. or i'll lose sleep one day and then be fine the next. but this has been like nearly 3 days of feeling weird. so is #getting kind of annoying... It's funny too because I was so so productive like.. literally the few days before. I was feeling much better #and I was working on my game and blah blah. But then.. random issue flare up out of nowhere of course.. yaayy.... happy holidays to meee lo #I did at least see two random ducks outside of my window in the yard area for christmas. and havent seen them since. So it's like.. hrmm.. #pacing around my room nauseous and shakings and etc. but at least... hello.. two little ducks placed there just for me :3c #Now I get anxiety every night which I'm sure doesn't help/could exacerbate whatever underlying genuinely physical issues exist. But after #like 2 nights of 'I spend the night sleepless and incredibly uncomfortable just sitting in the dark sick' then bedtime is like.. dread... #I even was trying slapping myself in the face in desperation to see if somehow that could shock my body out of whatever the hell it was #doing lol.. up at 3am holding ice cubes in my hand and hitting myself in the head and crying from exhaustion and thowing up.. literally #ridiculous cartoon character feeling... AAANYWAY!!! At least I have baby boy pictures. and I have lots of doctors appointments so hopefully #whatever the issue is can be sorted out at some point. I don't know much about ibs but hopefully maybe something like that that I could pos #ibly take medication for and not something more seirous or anything. Maybe there's a food I'm secretly intolerant to or whatever. #And I did at least post a sims holday video actually timed for the holidays so that's something. I havent been productive really latrely #though obviously.. I can't even play games or small tasks when in that state since I'm just SO physically uncomfortable. Nausea and heart #stuff are THE hardest physical sensations to ignore.. BUT yeah... hoping I shall sleep at all tonight. hopeing to get like 3 productive #things done.. at some point... at least SOMETHING... lol..... *** *** ***

[batfossil-fr]

I’ve been really thinking of reopening my art shop soon… I’ve been taking some practice doodles (hence all the posting lately) while I shake off my rust and I’m finding things I enjoy working on again. I miss trying my hand at more dragons/OCs and colors. my shop’s so broken rn lmao but that’s a problem for a later date it’s just nice getting back into art

#my mental health is starting to improve a bit #took a couple years but I found some meds that finally work better for me #ofc things aren’t 100% but I was really in a pit for a while #like ‘did not leave my house in months and slept 14 hours a day’ kind of pit #so. any improvement is better lol. but nah I’ve been making real improvement and im doing better. a lil shaky sometimes but that’s expected #diagnosed with chronic fatigue too. which is unfortunate but not unexpected. i am indeed god’s sleepiest soldier #i feel like a raisin slowly rehydrating but considering i was in a desert before any hydration is welcome #just learning how to enjoy things again overall #one thing I just couldn’t get myself to do (and enjoy) was art. doodles here and there but nothing to post #and it’s kind of funny because I feel like that downtime actually gave me a chance to think about what I wanted to work on #even when I wasn’t actively practicing #just paying attention to things I guess. enjoying art styles #i genuinely think my experimenting with stained is helping me learn colors #i spend hours in the scryshop im glad it’s paying off lmao #i want to tackle bigger things but i just gotta ease myself into the hang of things again #for now im having fun and that’s coooool. thank you all for your nice comments #i read all tags while kicking my feet and giggling. thank u all #that’s the update on Me tho. more to come hopefully #starting next month/julyish I will have a significant amount of time to dedicate to drawing which i intend on doing #so who knooowwwsss #rambles #funny enough coloring has become my favorite part of the process now. it used to be lineart. now lineart annoys me LOL #i also feel like i kinda lost my ability to write which has been frustrating but im focusing on art first #anyways that’s a whole different tangent rant over

[mokeonn]

One of my favorite things about being in my early 20s is that I'm starting to understand that I can use things not for their intended purpose. When you're growing up, you get told what an object is and what its intended purpose is, and as a kid/teen, I just accepted all of it at face value. As a young adult it's finally clicking that I can simply do things a different way if it makes me happier. Sure, I was taught that you stand to take a shower, but there's nothing stopping me from just sitting if I don't feel like it, ya know? I might have always had my medication in the kitchen, but if I'm no longer remembering to take it, I can just move it somewhere where I can remember. You don't have to specifically store all food in the kitchen, you can have a little snack cart or snack station in another room.

The downside to finding out the various ways you can use objects is that you develop habits that would probably go on an r/relationships post where everyone says you're a little freak.

#simon says #i just developed a new habit (it's too tmi to put here) and I just know that it's some weird shit #it works and it makes me feel better so I'm gonna keep doing it #but it's some shit that would end up viral where everyone would go 'yo op you should break up with them thats weird' 😔 #i was just thinking about this though because every week or so I learn that I can just do what I want #because there's no fucking object use police I can do what I want #i HIGHLY suggest getting into this habit. if you find something annoying or frustrating you can just do it differently #'I hate washing the dishes because my legs hurt from standing for so long' you can bring a chair and sit or you can break it up into chunks #like on the one hand I'm learning this because I have autism and a plethora of other mental disorders #and it's FINALLY clicking that I can self accommodate whenever and however I so please #I'm just sorta learning that if doing something makes me feel better/happy/gets the job done to do that thing #even if it requires using an object in an odd way #hell there's even some little things I've been playing with #for example: my whole life we sorta just lifted blinds only about halfway up #just sorta how we did it ya know #well recently I decided I wanted more natural light in the sunroom/my office so I wouldn't have to turn on the lamp #and I lifted the blinds all the way up to the very top #and honestly?? it fucking rules. the room looks nicer; i get natural light; i can see the forest out back and it's quite calming and nice #like for ages I just never thought about doing that because it just never occurred to me that I could #i just always put blinds about halfway up because that's about how high blinds do in my household #another little one I learned is that I can just... wash my hair #sometimes when I get too depressed or if my body doesn't need a shower but my hair is greasy #I just shove my head under the bathtub facet and wash my hair #it's just a small thing but for years if my hair needed to be washed I would just take a full shower #now I just fix my greasy hair. bc greasy hair is a huge ick for me but sometimes my body is still clean or im too tired to fully shower #like there's nothing stopping me from doing that and it doesn't hurt anyone. it's just a way of bathing that I wasn't taught #but yeah those are some recent examples of me learning I can just... do stuff differently #the free will is kicking in babes and it has decided I love finding ways to use things differently #it's why im doing a bg3 run where I just press loot all no matter what and use whatever I can in odd ways #anyways I might delete this later might not who knows

[getvalentined]

Thinking about finally throwing all my FF7 meta analysis and lore deep dive stuff onto a sideblog. It'd be reblogged from here, but I'd be able to organize it a little better, have a directory so people could find things more easily, and maybe it'd stop people from regurgitating things I say word-for-word for brownie points when they can just find and reblog the fucking original post(s).

#fandom vent #this happens WAY more often than I talk about #like constantly #not daily #but if I put up a ramble #there will always be 2-3 people on the twits or here #who immediately start saying the same thing #in the same words #acting like they're the ones that did the analysis #and it's really frustrating #y'all know I actually do research on this shit? #I check my sources #I review the source material #I get alternate translations to be sure #I read real-life research journals for scientific stuff #I research dates and real-world events and natural phenomena and religious history etc etc etc #it's not just 'nashi writes 2k words of bullshit and hits POST' #I do actual research for my analyses and my deep dives #I cite my sources whenever possible #I don't LINK all the time because that can kick a post from the tags #but I don't just make shit up #so people grabbing it and running with it as if they were the ones that did the work to figure it out #is super disheartening #my current big research project is figuring out if Reeve's surname #is actually rooted in Gaelic #because it's such a weird name #and it's possible that it's not spelled right #because it may be Gaelic #this is a theory that has not panned out yet #but I've been researching it on and off for weeks

[kinard-buckley]

a truly terrible idea has latched hold of my gremlin brain which is, buck and tommy do break up so that buck can pursue eddie because either tommy thinks buck is in love with eddie or buck feels like he should be with eddie because everyone else keeps suggesting there's something more there BUT buck/eddie getting together changes their dynamic so much that neither of them are enjoying themselves (and they're worrying about losing what made their friendship so special because of all the changes to the dynamic) AND buck and tommy keep hooking up [air quotes] platonically (with tommy stumbling into inconvenient feelings and pining pathetically for buck while fucking him) while buck struggles to sort out intense feelings toward eddie (which obviously have to be romantic of course) vs. his calm, more settled feelings toward tommy (they're not as intense as his feelings about eddie so they can't possibly be romantic) blah blah long story slightly less long but buck realizes he's been in love with tommy the whole time and was having trouble separating strong but platonic feelings for eddie from his romantic feelings toward tommy and then tommy's like "newsflash asshole i've been in love with you the whole goddamn time"

i'll never write it because it's irredeemably stupid and i value my peace but it IS sitting in my hindbrain tormenting me right now

#thank you for coming to my ted talk #i'm not tagging this bc i don't want it showing up in any show or ship tags but............................... #terrible evil plotbunny free to a good home #nobody ever writes about the friends who get together bc 'why not everyone else already thinks we're dating' and then it doesn't work out #because the dynamic changes SO MUCH that you're not sure if it was such a good idea in the first place #now add a third person to the mix that you like but aren't sure how you feel about them #not sure if eddie would be aware it's casual and non exclusive or if there'd be miscommunication leading to angst #honestly this is just me venting my frustrations with those breakup fics masqueraring as b*cktommy that have tommy #graciously sacrificing himself on the altar of b*ddie's true love and stepping aside magnanimously #that's not interesting to me to read even as a b*ddie shipper #if buck and tommy have to break up let it be real and messy because real people are real and messy #let tommy fight for buck even if it doesn't end up working out #let buck and eddie feel guilty because buck did genuinely care about tommy and eddie does like him as a friend #let tommy cut both of them off because even though he likes both of them he still has feelings and it hurts seeing them together #let tommy be petty about showing off a new love interest or fwb and how much happier he is with this guy than he was with buck #let buck wonder if he made the right choice or not bc he didn't ever want to hurt tommy #he only convinced himself tommy would be completely fine with the breakup because he needed him to be fine so that he could do it guilt fre #let eddie wonder if they made the right choice or not bc while he finally has what he's wanted for years it did hurt someone he really like #maybe it'll all work out in the end for buck and eddie AND tommy but i just want it to feel real and not overly polished and sanitized #and no one is hurt or upset or petty or flawed #anyway #i like mess #don't @ me #i might have to write this now but i don't want to be chased off with pitchforks and torches #text #shut up giallos