#bound. in my delusional era

[fagrackham]

letting the hot sexy transmasc butch who played rocky last semester completely lead me on just bc i like the attention and the way they smell <3

#its not self destructive behavior if im aware of it #idk like theyre like ah its totally ok to flirt w your friends we’re gay! but also they wont sleep w anyone under the age of twenty which i #completely respect but like they pick me up whenever we hug and they call me baby and they stand really close to me when we talk and like. #i think they like the fact that they can LOOK at me and im completely done for. its cool its fine im having them over to get high and watch #bound. in my delusional era

[love-belle]

i should hate u !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which their post break-up era is them using shady captions to communicate and the media and fans being confused.

or

for when you loved them too much. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // max verstappen x fem!reader

sequel - today and tomorrow and every day after that ⋆·˚ ༘ *

warnings - language

author's note - hello!!! i really hope u like this <3 i was initially gonna do daniel ricciardo one first but i already had 1/2 of this done so i just decided to post this :) thank u sm for reading <3 i love u

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f1news y/n y/l/n and max verstappen called it quits almost a month ago and it seems like they didn't end on good terms at all. the singer, at her london show last night, threw shade at her ex-boyfriend, saying and we quote, "the next song wouldn't have been possible without this one dude who inspired it obviously. so — here's 'i should hate you'. spoiler alert, i do. thank you!" the reason for the split is still unknown but sources who claim to be close to the pair said that 'it was bound to happen — with their different goals and plans for the future," seemingly referring to the talks that y/l/n wanted to get married and verstappen didn't. both of them have yet to comment on the situation. for more details, click on the link in our bio.

278 comments

username WOAH

username pause.

username ahahahahaha say what.

username oh my god 💀💀💀

username NOT HER CONFIRMING THAT I SHOULD HATE YOU IS ABT MAX

username no bc the way her voice cracked so many times in between the songs like girlie is angry AND hurt

username OH MY GOD

username i genuinely have no words

username omg the photos are NOT of her shading max. it's her laughing at a fan who yelled "you're the baddest bitch of all baddest bitches" at her

-> username YEAH LIKE SHE WAS SO CLOSE TO CRYING WHEN SHE SANG ISHY

username my delusional ass thinking they ended on good terms 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

username nah it's so champagne problems and you're losing me kinda thing i can't handle this whatcthe fucj

username OH WHATCTHEBFUCJ

username me getting the big guns out to defend her AND max with my LIFE

username still processing their breakup give me a year to digest this information

username STOP WHAT THE FUCK

username my parents ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️

username no bc she's genuinely such a sweet person so if she said this max must've done something 😭😭😭😭😭

-> username STOP NO 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

username can't believe she's saying this about a dude for whom she wrote "feels like" for like wow.

username I WAS AT THAT SHOW AND SHE LOOKED SO SAD AFTER SHE SAID THIS I FELT SO BAD

-> username SHE ALSO STARTED CRYING WHEN SHE FINISHED SINGING I MISS U IM SORRY AND ZARA (HER LEAD GUITARIST) HAD TO RUN AND CONSOLE HER

-> username AND SHE SAID THAT THE LAST MONTH HAS BEEN HARD ON HER AND SHE APOLOGIZED IF THE SHOW WASN'T AS GOOD AS THE OTHERS

-> username NAH MOTHER ATE AS ALWAYS

username y'all saying this but not the fact that she ALSO said "in another life we would've worked but im grateful for everything i had because for a moment you were mine"

-> username MY HEART JUST BROKE WHATCTHEBFUCK

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

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maxverstappen1 i know i say that i am better now, spoiler alert, i am

8,926 comments

username the way my jaw dropped

username THE PICTURES

username GODDAMN

username someone take away y/n's phone before she hits back 💀💀💀

-> username the way i know that she would absolutely destroy him

username NOT THE PHOTOS OMG

danielricciardo spoiler alert, also a liar

-> maxverstappen1 you promised you wouldn't snitch

username he definitely cried while posting this idc

username max babe it's okay to admit that u miss ur wifey bc same 💔💔💔

-> username "wifey" girl he didn't even wanna marry her

-> username not another word.

username funny haha 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 im crying 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 now get back with mom.

landonorris no you're not

-> maxverstappen1 i will block you

username lando and daniel exposing max 💀💀💀

username no bc he probably cries whenever he remembers that he fumbled a baddie like y/n

username "it's all better with you ❤️"

-> username i could've gone along with my day without seeing that just saying

-> username delete that RIGHT NOW before i start crying

username missing max simping for y/n like ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️

charles_leclerc i swear i can hear you crying from my hotel room

-> maxverstappen1 WE'RE NOT EVEN IN THE SAME HOTEL

username the way im SO sure he heard y/n saying that she hates him and that was the moment he gave up

-> username nah bc he was one of the "my girl's mad at me i hope i die" kinda guys

-> username wonder how he's surviving this tbh

username I CAN'T TAKE THIS SERIOUS IM SORRY THE POST IS JUST TOO FUNNY

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yourusername i hate you lol

12,628 comments

username HELP

username she could only get this much in before her manager took away her phone ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

*liked by yourusername*

username no bc girl had a lot to say she's just trying to keep it cute

*liked by yourusername*

username the way i know y/n FOUGHT for the right to post this caption

username this is MILD bc i know y/n can be ruthless 😭😭😭😭😭😭

landonorris "in love" alright.

-> yourusername IT'S FOR THE AESTHETIC

username mother and father are fighting i can't take this what tye fyxk

username 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

username mother slays everyday just saying

username no bc if y/n ever said ihy to me i would give up just a thought

lilymhe pretty bitch

-> yourusername u sure that's not u?????

username i REALLY hope she's at the next gp

-> username no bc the way max and her meeting would definitely be more entertaining than the race itself

username NOT THE SONG LYRICS WHAT HAVE U PLANNED

-> username oh fuck that broke my heart what the fuck

username missing my man max in the comments section being a whipped bitch so bad ://////

carmenmmundt can't wait to see you darling 🤍

-> yourusername counting down the seconds omg i missed u!!!!!!

username y/n's manager has her on lockdown i can tell 💀💀💀

-> username with what she said at her last show i wouldn't be surprised

landonorris the post has reached the target and the target is currently eating ice cream while singing your songs

-> yourusername OH OKAY

-> yourusername good to know!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

username she's so pretty it's not fair wtf

username the caption omg

-> username it's SO mild compared to what i was expecting tbh 💀

username slay

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maxverstappen1 it's all better now

comments are disabled for this post

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yourusername and i swear to god i'd kill you if i loved you a less hard

13,728 comments

username SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP

username OH MY GOD

username IS THAT MAX WHATCTHEBFUCK

username NOT Y/N SOFT LAUNCHING HER EX BOYFRIEND

username GIRL 😭😭😭😭 get up

username this is INSANE

username MOTHER?????? WHAT IS THIS??????

danielricciardo the most stressful week of my life if we're being for real

-> yourusername u can send m*x the therapy bill

-> maxverstappen1 don't. i did not agree to that.

username HER SONG LYRICS OH MY GOD

username SHE WROTE THIS SONG FOR MAX 😭😭😭😭😭😭

username okay but like. are we SURE that's max?????

-> username i simply refuse to believe that it's someone else so yes. that IS in fact max.

username OKAYYYYYYY

username did NOT see this coming in a thousand years

username obviously VERY happy for them but y/n censoring max's name is so fucking hilarious like

-> yourusername babe it's m*x

-> username my bad ur absolutely right it's m*x

-> maxverstappen1 this is bullying

username DID HE PUT A RING ON IT WHATXTHEBFUCK

-> username NO BC THAT WOULD MAKE SM SENSE

username so i lost SLEEP over nothing????????

maxverstappen1 nice pants

-> yourusername thanks they would look better on ur floor

-> maxverstappen1 say less

-> username i think i just died whatcthebfuxk

-> username oh they're GOOD now

username imagine they just drop engagement photos out of the blue then what.

-> yourusername imagine lol

-> username WHAT DOES THIS MEAN

username i just know y/n's eating up every moment of this chaos

-> maxverstappen1 demons thrive in chaos so

-> yourusername well! it was nice to reconcile for a couple days, goodbye now.

username im crying whayctrhbfcuk

landonorris mother father

-> yourusername child

-> maxverstappen1 no

-> username ah yes the four family members mother father child and no

username THE HEART THE EVERYTHING THEM

username they STILL don't follow eachother LMFAO

#f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 imagines #social media au #fake instagram imagines #max verstappen blurb #max verstappen x fem!reader #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen instagram au #max verstappen angst #max verstappen fluff

[bafvkun]

I just feel like talking about how deep Mikayu’s bound runs don’t mind me (HEAVY spoilers ahead).

Lets get this straight : i don’t care if you ship them or not (even if you would be a fool not to) but no one can deny that they’re literal soulmates and I’m gonna show you exactly why.

Yu and Mika were ALWAYS bound to find each other and reunite. I’m not saying that because I’m delusional it’s literally canon. Their relationship is as old as dinosaurs and once again : this is canon.

Yu (or should I say Mika but like whatever if you didn’t read the scans it would take an eternity to explain) was literally created for Mika. The sole purpose of his existence was to look after Mika and be his only friend. Since day one they were ment for each other.

They swore on every stars and defied fate itself that they will always found each other again no matter how many times they die or get taken away from the other in a way or another, no matter their race, age or era.

There I was talking about the first versions of them, but let’s talk about the main one, the one we all know in the anime and throughout the whole manga, Yuichiro and Mikaela Hyakuya.

Mika was the first one in this life to get Yu to open his heart, to make him accept his fate and push him to make the best of it. Yu was just a traumatized child that almost got killed by his own parents yet Mika made him feel like he belonged somewhere, he showed him that family wasn’t always meant to be bound with blood.

When Yu lost Mika it was like he lost all hopes, for the longest time Yu was suicidal, already from young age and this loss just made him feel so much worse. Yes the loss of his whole new family, including Akane and the kids was bad for him, but deep down what truly broke them was the loss of one another.

Years later they reunited, Mika like Yu both changed deeply because of their own experiences and yet their relationship stayed unchanged. Just the dynamic between them switched, Yu was now the one to convince Mika that he could trust his new family (Glenn and his own squad).

One day my mom told me « if when you reunite with a long lost friend and it feels like not even a day has passed, then it’s real friendship » and it’s been proven to me that this is true, Mikayu being yet another exemple of this.

As a vampire Mika doesn’t feel much anymore, it’s said loud and clear that turning into a vampire takes away from you any vulnerability, any love or lust. Yet Mika feels so vividly for Yu, it runs so much deeper than his own nature. His loyalty towards him is beyond any words could ever describe.

And it’s also so damn obvious how Mika is just so grumpy with anyone but smiles whenever Yu is around. He didn’t smile for anyone else than him throughout the manga, Yu is his literal everything, he is the only one that brings him peace and joy.

Now we skip forward a bit, Yu and Mika are in a deadly situation and against everything Mika dies. First let’s get the obvious out of the way, his last words were « Yu, I love you. ». I mean. There’s nothing more straightforward than that.

But then, when a vampire dies he becomes a demon, so of course Yu had to take him as his cursed weapon. So that’s exactly what he did, after so much struggle that I will pass here he finally got to talk with Mika and have a contract with him.

But the thing is when a vampire dies and becomes a demon he loses all his memories from his previous life, so Mika didn’t remember Yu at all. Yet, despite everything their bound didn’t die, quite the contrary. Even before they did the contract, so before Mika had access to Yu’s memories, there was still something inside him that screamed « that guy is important to me », even if he didn’t understand where it came from.

All the memories Mika had of Yu after that was again : from Yu’s own memories.

And what Mika saw broke him, the desire to die was so overwhelming even in his demon form he found himself speechless and hurt. He didn’t remember Yu but he knew that he was important to him more than he could ever tell. And he didn’t only see their memories together, he saw Yu’s whole life, the moment with his parents, the years they spent apart, Yu and Glenn’s relationship and his new family, he saw everything.

He swore his loyalty to him yet again, ready to do anything for him and face the end of the world hand in hand with him. And of course, even when he lost his memories Yu never once doubted him and that he would still follow him.

Now. I’ve been talking a lot about Mika’s love for Yu but what about the other way around ? Moving forward in the story again Glenn revealed something to Yu, his squad and Mika that left a dilemma hanging in the air. Yu had to chose between humanity and Mika. And what did he do ? He chose Mika, betraying not only Glenn, the man that save him physically and psychologically and that he respected the most in the world, not only his squad with who he shared ups and downs like a family but humanity itself for the survival of Mika.

If this doesn’t speak volumes to you I don’t know what will. Yu sacrificed EVERYTHING down to his own survival just to spend one more day with Mika. Now not only vampires, demons and angels were against him, but humanity too all for the sake of one man.

Both of them constantly put their whole life and universe on the line for the other and they always do it in a heartbeat, like any other decision would just be unthinkable.

They had so many discussions that made clear how deeply their feelings for one another go, no matter if you interpret it as brotherly or romantic love. They confessed to each other so many times how they can’t live without the other, how life is meaningless if the other isn’t around. How there’s not even a point in trying to live if it isn’t to face tomorrow together and how each other’s happiness is more important than anything else in the world.

Both of them held on solely for the other, both of them are still breathing and living their truth thanks to nothing else than one another.

Their love is so fucking beautiful and pure, it stayed untouched through generations and generations of them.

Mikayu is an amazing ship and anyone would be a fool to not read Seraoh of the end just to witness such utter and raw love.

#seraph of the end #owari no seraph #mikaela hyakuya #mika hyakuya #mika x yuu #mikayuu #mika #yuu hyakuya #yuuichirou hyakuya #yuichiro hyakuya #mikaela x yuichiro

[precious-little-scoundrel]

My Mother’s Child

Fandom: House of the Dragon, GRRM’s Fire and Blood

Pairing: Alicent Hightower x Aemond Targaryen

Summary: im a sucker for any GRRM universe and setting but after the recent release of the trailer for House of the Dragon’s second season I can’t quite contain the muses. So here is my self indulgent spillage of thoughts i entertained while watching the first. Perhaps growing up obsessed with Greek Myths, Shakespeare Anti-heroes and Renaissance families took its toll on my moral fascinations but the minute I see a codependent dynamic in a brutally restricted society I go a little nutty on the psycho-analysis and then it turns to feelings and then it turns to fiction.

Timeline: I’ve entirely had my wicked way with events and outcomes, nothing is critically pertinent but Aemond’s time in the Riverlands is changed, the time of Maelor’s birth is fudged, Aemond doesn’t die but is recalled to be regent again after Aegon’s demise, I’ve really no clue which of the Blacks are alive but the gist of it is the war has gone in favor of the Greens for the most part and now Aemond can come into his Crafty Uncle Richard III Regent era while obsessing over his pretty mom. Cheers.

Authors Note: im in no way romanticizing or advocating for the universe typical incest, warped relationships, casual murder, deranged intentions or the dire outcome portrayed of a stunted mother’s dependence on her worrisomely dependable son. Not proof read, have mercy on my tired eyes. Specific warnings below the cut:

Warnings: 18+, dead dove do not eat -thematically disturbing. An exploration of Alicent’s dependence on Aemond during his regency and beyond, undertones of attraction on Aemond’s part and submission to him on Alicent’s, combined with their delusional domesticity by coparenting little Maelor may disturb some. There is some physical touch that Aemond makes weird, his impure thoughts that are blamed on Targaryen tendencies, his recollections of sleeping in her bed as a child, him fucking Alys Rivers and imagining his mom sorta? along with sending Alicent his cum stained letters, calling Maelor “their boy” as if they are his parents, open ending suggesting a potential escalation in the dynamic. I tried to keep this as in character as possible so these warnings sound far more stark and crass than I hope the actual fic reads

It was Aemond sent to fetch his wayward brother, it was Aemond relied upon to soothe his sister, it was Aemond who absorbed Ser Criston Cole’s teaching, it was Aemond who stood any chance of gaining Otto Hightower’s commendation and through it some crumb of praise for the produce of poor, weary, teary eyed Alicent Hightower.

It was little more responsibility for Aemond Targaryen to quickly become the closest thing his mother had to a bosom friend by the time of his maturity, easily adding so weighty a role to those he already held as Lord Regent, terror of the realm, kinslayer and learned heir. It came as naturally to him as had filling each of its predecessors.

Whatever hopeless compulsion, dragon bound and magic made, to be loyal to his family that already ran in his poisoned blood, it was only ever magnified by the sight of his mother’s dutiful martyrdom, year after year bleeding herself out -and all the while not a soul to staunch the wound but him. Surely her husband the King only made it larger with each neglect or attention he paid her, and Aegon had long since been the sour fruit of a painful initiation. Helaena for reasons as gentle as they were cruel could not bear her own mother’s company -nor was the realm that sweet daughter lived in that of the Seven Kingdoms, where Alicent spent her every waking moment dwelling on and maneuvering for her boy King. Helaena lived in dreams and lived to avoid dreams and all Alicent had were harsh realities and dreams so trodden under the march of time that they resembled very little to their former selves by the retelling.

Aemond lived in the bridge between the two women of his house. There were dear to him the cherished traditions of Old Valyria and also, there were crucial to him the pressing matters of harvest and uprising and famine and the throne of Westeros.

He too lived in the Seven Kingdoms, he was practically their king, and like the manner in which he had long led this family by innate authority, such a role came naturally to him, as did sitting by the hearth in his mother's antechamber each evening, a recreation of the way he had stayed with her night after night in the wake of Driftmark, and discussing with her the petitions of the day, outcomes whose decisions needed making before dawn and hopes for the future.

Aemond felt close to her then, and dismal though the Kingdom’s prospects often felt, between the two of them there was calm in these moments. For once in his life Aemond did not find himself chafing under its soothing influence, but instead he would match her in her reclining, legs spread wide in his chair and silver head tilted to rest on the gilt chair, their hands near to brushing and let the connection grow until he wondered if he too were a dreamer and could know her inner thoughts, know her bewilderment and also her relief when he took from her the weight of the day with his sober companionship.

It felt odd parting in the evenings after these talks, what had once been a ritual of her comforting his painful wound in his youth and holding him close through the nighttime terror now felt necessary to be repeated as cure from her own dejection. Only her last remaining grandson Maelor provided some support to Alicent, she herself a child grown old using her own children to soothe herself.

Aemond saw to it that Maelor was brought often to their evening chats, a docile boy with an intense interest in blocks, he was no distraction from their more weighty discussions but when the evening grew late and the moon high and Aemond’s better judgment waned at the soft sight of his mother’s tender form and unguarded appreciation for his presence by her side, there was Maelor to place in her arms in instead of himself, and there was Maelor to pat her arms and lay upon her breast and enjoy the uncomplicated devotion of a mother that Aemond had never known.

Perhaps if his father the King had even once played the role of father, Aemond would not have spent his childhood clasped to that soft bosom while pretending he were the one being comforted by it and not her. He was older now and he had read of such dynamics, he had read of myths and scandals, Maester’s studies of the codependent phenomenon that blurs the line between each familial role. Childlike herself, his mother deserved not another man to have designs on her but a child, a true child she could dote upon and cuddle at night and a good son to tell her,

“You are weary, come, I’ll walk you to bed. Nevermind his blanket, I have it.”

and so it was Maelor who lay with her, Maelor who delighted her, Maelor who took up the space that had last been Aemond’s under her left arm. Only Aemond now allowed himself the task of tucking the furs about them both and stroking the tear tracks off her cheek, leaning down to kiss her forehead as she had dreamed of her own father doing. And then, Aemond betook himself to his own chambers laden with her burdens and his own and fell into the bedding with pleasure in his heart at having been entrusted with the wearisome load.

It continued thus in a pleasurable routine until the Riverlands called for his attention. Aegon was propped up, scarred and dim, on his neglected throne and Alicent was made Protector of the Realm and immediately thereafter Aemond found himself in the courtyard, Vhaegar waiting for him to mount and lead the reinforcements.

As Aemond pressed his thin lips to mother’s forehead in farewell for the duration of a long campaign, little Maelor who was in her arms laid hold of Aemond’s silver locks and seized them tightly during the moment between mother and son, holding the prince hostage a bit longer, for a moment nearer,

“dada.” -the infant nephew babbled to his uncle Aemond for a kiss of his own and to judge by Alicent’s alarmed expression, Aemond’s enforced separation from this little family they had made of a year’s evenings could not have come a moment too soon.

It haunted him, that flash of horror on his mother’s face at an infant’s small confusion. It brought back a seething reproach against her for all the times she’d never understood him, all the times she had raged against his very nature as a Dragon, holding him up with disgust and pride all at once until his head spun with it and he had learned to dance to her every whim, now the devout follower of Old Town and now the noble Dragon whose rights were being denied.

But woe to him should he be one or the other when it did not suit her. She thought his innate longing for a dragon to be imbecilic when he was young and yet she glowed with pride when he called out those Strong bastards for being anything but pure blooded dragons themselves.

As always with her duty, she hated herself for its outcome yet chose to cloak herself in pride for her sacrifices. His very existence, those of his siblings too, was sacrifice, his very bloodline and nature was an abomination against her faith, his impulses were beastly however much he took her principles to heart, and his tastes remained strange no matter how stifled her own had long remained.

But she had made him. How dare she be repulsed by her own creation.

Prince Aemond’s ire burned through him and suited the needs of war far better than kinder feelings of pining for hearth and home, so he stayed angry with his mother at each hack and hewing of his blade, each swath of farmland he burnt and every ill organized column of traitor levys he annihilated.

Capable, he is the capable son and his mother writes to him thanking him for it and he crushes the missive in his hand before regret surges after and he strokes the parchment flat again on his desk with all the revernace of a lover for his beloved’s skin.

He is kinder the parchment than he is to Alys Rivers.

Alys who is older and smart and wicked, who never once flinches at his nature, who accepts the ruthless pace of his hips and the mauling of his mouth with her own vigor, Alys who he swears to himself is a wartime necessity, the humors most flow somewhere and if he is to bleed he must also spill and she is there and trustworthy and her aura reminds in the moments after pain, warm arms holding him tight on his right side lest he roll on his wounded eye in sleep. The eye does not throb in that raw way any longer, it is a dull and perpetual ache he can expect to remain with him for all time, but the longing for such comfort remains and he lays atop Alys’ matronly breast often for longer than his daylight-sobered self can countenance.

He writes of her to his mother, to grieve her with his sin as much as not to withhold anything from her, he has not before and why should he now? Her reply is stifled and terse in regards to his admission, barely even a line and he must squint to decipher wether it pertains to the subject he is most anxious to hear from her about. But as he thumbs the well familiar scrawl of her pen he can imagine the set of her mouth and the pleading of her eyes, so different from true distress, no, instead it is the girlish patheticness she plays at, despite its lack of success all these years and how the same years have robbed her of the youthful vulnerability that once made men take notice of it.

Only Aemond remains affected by it, and he finds it so deliciously false that he teases it out of her as a treat for himself on occasion. Aegon may have it whenever he sees fit, though being a fool he thinks every crease to her forehead is that of genuine concern. Aemond’s knows her better than that, and sees her pouting eyes come through the written admonition to “keep himself in good company”.

He smirks at Alys when she enters his tent and finds him rolling up the motherly advice. He ploughs her atop the volumes of communication his dear mother has sent him during this campaign and the parchment he sends back to her with his report next morning is stained.

Aemond doesn’t need to hope that she smells his letters for sweat and smoke the same way he smells hers for rosewater and thyme. He knows she does, he has caught them under her pillow and in her pockets when returning to the Keep, time and again, without warning. He knows she prays for him to outlive them all and he knows she will kiss the stains she mistakes for tears. A holy horror fills him at the satisfaction that thought brings, and after it has taken root he cannot find it in himself to enjoy Alys’ cheerful vigor any longer or the dark appetites they once shared. She is too eager, she is too unabashed, there is too little shame for his taste.

Alys is a whore and Aemond longs for the droopy eyed piety of his mother’s face when he tucks her abed, the melancholy contentment of his dutiful care for her and the mislaid trust that she has domesticated her little dragonling to the faith of the seven, her plaint limbed trust that the Warrior and Mother would never meet in the throes of burning want that consume him.

When his task is done, or near to done in these rebellious lands, and a call comes of his brother’s failing health, Aegon mounts Vheagar a disillusioned man, flying high and away above the wreckage he has committed and leaving behind the last Strong bastard dead as promised.

Alicent’s son is a man fully grown when he alights in the courtyard, long limbed and toned from his wartime deprivations, the set of his jaw remains firm but his gait is looser, there is a confidence in bloom now that was only budding before he left. Alicent cannot hide her joy at seeing him again, her pace is faster than is strictly proper as she breaks ranks of the welcoming party to greet him -it is her right as reigning regent.

As his mother.

She clasps his hands and feels his strong fingers engulf her forearms, tugging her nearer in an almost playful fashion -the action suits his new demeanor of confidence but it hardly suits the action of a son greeting his mother.

“Muña,” his rich voice murmurs to her as he stares down at her with not a bit of the usual softening in his sharp features, his lips quirk and his eyes sharply plumb through the depths of her own, “I am come home, as you asked.”

Unnerved by his intensity, Alicent gives him a trembling smile, watery eyes darting from one dear feature in that ethereal face to the next -it is the war terrors, perhaps, that have him so ardent in his tone and grip, men often come back from battle strung taut.

“Then we are safe.” she sighs, meaning it for their family even as her own heart quickens in vague misgiving.

“Maelor?” he questions, not even bothering to ask after the current king, his blood brother, it is the infant he has already fashioned into a surrogate son that interests him now.

“Is well.” his mother glows at the mention of the babe, “Growing and talking more each week.”

“And his mother?” Aemond asks with a soft light in his face as he ducks to meet her eye to eye, and Alicent knows he does not mean the poor Helaena gone mad in the tower, he means Alicent.

“Well enough.” She insists with all the age-old weariness that suggests, and is meant to inform him, otherwise.

Aemond’s jaw ticks in recognition of the old habit, his mother lies often for so pious a woman and she manipulates even more frequently for so devout a defender of the truth. It is a child’s tactic and he knows it, and that fury over it that had filled him in his days in the Riverlands surges back in another form, he feels a superiority in that moment even as he is being played by her weary pout and soft hands.

It is a woman’s way of asking a man to carry her load, to disarm her of her duties, to take from her the pretense of capability and taste for ruling.

Aemond’s conflict for such a role died somewhere with Alys in the Riverlands, by his own hand, in his own bed, his mother’s last letter dancing before his sightless eye. It is with confidence and entitlement that he glides his hands down her shapely arms and takes her hands in his, weighing them between them as she watches in surprise. He thumbs over the knuckles before splaying them out in his much larger palms and running a forefinger over the mangled cuticles.

“Mmm, not well enough for my liking, judging by this.” he remarks and when she goes to snatch the evidence of her worry away he clasps them stronger until it is an undeniable struggle for her to take them back -one he denies with an iron grip and a patronizing smile that she has only ever seen Aegon receive from him. “Those days are over, munta, we will have peace and plenty now.” he drags her stiff arm through his own and turns them towards the entrance of the Keep, patting the sore fingers laying on his arm, “And I’ll have no more of…this.”

Dazed, Alicent allows him to lead her through the great doors and into the colossal tomb that has been her children's home, she stares up at the familiar face of her third born in the light of the grand hall’s torches and marvels at the comfort one existence can bring another. Just as she fears the firm hold on her hand and heeds the temptation she feels to obey a man child she should be governing. These thoughts are put to flight when Aemond halts and turns to her warmly, no sneer remaining and no cold authority left when he whispers excitedly,

“Will you take me to our boy?”

The instant awareness of his meaning, that he means his nephew, that he means her grandson, that he means the future king, that he means Maelor -it sickens her how natural her impulse is to smile back at Aemond’s oddly paternal expression, to lead him back to her antechambers and reunite the little family they made before the war called him and that witch possessed the son Alicent had so lovingly made pure and noble in her belly. It is balm to hear him grown and saying that they are one again, that she is paramount in his life once more, that together they have made something gentler and better than any bastard lovechild conceived in wartime.

“Come.” Alicent urges her son, taking his scarred hand in her soft one as she had a million times before to lead him to the Sept. Yet this time, Alicent leads Aemond to her rooms and the cradle of their future King.

#house of the dragon season 2 #house of the dragon #alicent x aemond #aemond fanfiction #prince aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond x reader #hotd alicent #queen alicent #alicent hightower #Alicent fanfiction #Alicent Hightower fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd fanfic #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #game of thrones

[chbobserver]

welcome to the first edition of the CHB OBSERVER!

within the following post, you will find drama, intrigue, betrayal, hookups, unrequited love, well-seasoned hate--anything you could want to know about your fellow campers. this newsletter marks the first batch of asks sent since the blog was opened, and will be published on a regular basis. however, from this point on, asks may be published in-between newsletters, at the asker's request, or if the gossip is particularly piping. this publication is the result of countless hours of investigation, footage capture and review, interviewing, and of course, the contributions of readers like YOU! i really couldn't have done any of this without you, remember that!

-xoxo GhostPheme

so many missions back to back with so many new players on the board, and people were bound to be paying close attention to their neighbors antics!! let's get into the first drop:

"a little birdie tells me that the son of aphrodite can spark a little love triangle, xoxo"

and i wonder which son of aphrodite they mean, first of all. morgan, perhaps? we did hear corban express interest in wanting to chat him up..but if so, who's the third? everyone keep an eye on this, let us know if we can narrow it down.

“i was told era’s body count is currently 56. not sure if he can count that high, but my professionally estimated guess is around 87.”

oh wow, i'm not even sure which part is more offensive, but i bet erasmo will clear that up for us.

"i heard that holli has a wonky boob."

there's certainly several people that could confirm or deny this one. any takers?

"i heard charlie would rather sleep his way to the top than work for it. fucking mythological creatures in the name of science."

omg the centaurs! i heard centaurs--you think he's really doing it like that? if so, i know it's not for science.

"after whatever calliope did to nico, some might think that he's been corrupted by the other side."

oh fuck, can she do this? is this a thing that can happen? someone better check, and quick, before he can sabotage anything! or anything else...

"avi doesn't seem like he has that much trust in himself. i've heard that he's not the same since he came back from the dead. my guess is that magnolia or hart took over his body."

you're saying we have TWO interlopers? right under our noses, jfc!

"is it just me or does andreas and nico seem to have a thing for each other?"

oh i've been thinking this! they definitely have a special connection. andreas should keep an eye out for selenur for us! that's the best persona for the job, keep close to nico, and they'll probably do it for free!

"i heard a satyr say that greyson fucks ghosts"

and it would be so easy and no one would know! he literally lives with them!

"i heard kitty making horse noises to herself, is she delusional?"

i don't have the dsm5 open in front of me, so i'm not entirely sure, but i wouldn't put it past her. kitty's just a little cuckoo; she's the horse girl your cool friends warned you about.

"avi smells like rotted day old pizza. he reeks!"

is it that bad? he's probably scared to wash between his cheeks, poor thing; a really terminal case of incel. actually...since he's constantly rejecting holli, does that make him volcel? brb going to get him kicked off his fav quarantined reddit subs.

"nico is always walking around like a stick in the mud. lighten up dude!!!!"

lighten up! you're not even that old! you don't have to lie to kick it, nico, you're just as messy and nasty as everyone else.

"biggest floozy?? bet it's our favorite nature-loving bark boy."

now we're getting somewhere! i bet there's some people out there with some real good stories and i want to hear them! i know kit isn't all doe eyed wonder and nature's harmony...or maybe his last shock wasn't a fluke and he just does whatever anyone asks all the time...

"why does greyson smell like hot topic? yiiiikes"

audience, i'll take the leap for all of us, and assume this contributor means he tries too hard to be edgy. you're welcome. if the earlier greyson entry was true, this one definitely isn't.

"is it just me or does ganymede look like a yassified version of andreas?"

i don't want this to come off like complaining, but you're not wrong. maybe they're related--pretty sure i've heard someone else say this too. couldn't hurt to assume.

"i bet if corban cut his hair he'd be a solid 9..."

corban, you got a date lined up if you want it! get a stylist and come getcha man!

"holli is short for hollandaise."

like real name? like her mom calls her that? no wonder she's fucked up.

and that's all folks! hope you enjoyed! i always want to hear feedback, and if you weren't mentioned but want to be: be less boring, do more crime, and a healthy dose of scandal.

#chbonews #morgan #corban #erasmo #holli #charlie #nico #avi #andreas #greyson #kitty #kit

[igotyoukth]

we are not seven

Summary: The Big Hit Labels launched many products using BTS' fame. As albums, apps and clothes are boring now, the PR team has another idea: BTS themed parks with BTS clones. And only a few selected fans are chosen to test the prototype. What they don't know is, one of the seven groups are the real boys.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

But I didn't do anything wrong, was my first thought as I was asked to follow the staff. After enjoying the BTS concert minutes ago, I couldn't remember half of it. But I was pretty sure that I didn't do anything that would get me in trouble. I hadn't even filmed much.

The female staff had smiled and asked if I could spare a few minutes to follow her backstage. Backstage. That could be both very bad or very good. It's the place where BTS is walking around. But also the scary security.

"Stay close," the staff said and guided me deeper into the building. I nodded, when she used one of her cards to open a big door. Maybe BTS is behind it, screamed the fangirl in me. But they were not. It was a man and a woman.

"Hello," said the man. The woman greeted me with a quick nod. They were sitting on one side of a long table, looked friendly and smiled at me. "Sit down please," he spoke again. I followed suit.

"Did you enjoy the concert?"

"Yes, yes of course," I answered happily. It was really easy to distract me.

"Please don't freak out, but-," the woman began.

Isn't this one of the sentences to really freak somebody out, ma'am?

"You are Luna right?," she waited a second for me to nod,"we came across your account and confirmed you are a very dedicated and knowledgeable fan."

"Thank you?," I answered unsure about the compliment. I could also be blacklisted, I realized. Obsessive fans were dedicated and knowledgeable as well, after all.

"We are about to launch a new project for ARMYs and need fans we can trust to evaluate the process. So we need your help, Luna."

Her name was Yuna, and she made sure I knew that my options were little. As I already knew about that a new project of any kind existed, I was pretty sure bound to accept the offer.

So when I confirmed my involvement, she pulled a ton of papers from her bag. And then started explaining.

"BTS theme park" was the temporary name of the project. The park was separated into seven BTS eras. Their trainee days, debut era, I Need U, Blood, Sweat& Tears, Spring Day, Fake Love and the present. The BTS members would take part and be present at every station, recreate the era and interact with fans.

There was one innovative thing about the park. They were going to use clones.

The reason the PR team chose me was my fan account, where I used to analyze music videos and simply make jokes nobody found funny. But apparently it showed the PR team I was smart enough to take part in this big project. They needed fans who knew a lot about the group and could find the faults in the clones. Did they act out of character? Was the experience authentic? What kind of improvement was possible?

The park was going to include the seven eras, probably more in the future. And the fans could stay up to a week with BTS. The PR team knew that problems could arise. Mostly delusional fans could mistake the clones for real and get too excited about the close relationship.

But the primary goal of the project was to give everyone a chance to meet BTS and build a friendship. The clones would purely be friends and were not allowed to cross the line. This was another criteria we should observe. The clones should never be more than friends, never.

My station at the BTS theme park was the present era. The most boring one to me. A long career as an ARMY made me miss my old boys and the memories from eras in the past. But I was positioned there for being an 'experienced' fangirl. The clones in the present should be the best, as the PR team predicted it to be the most popular stop.

The other group members  were chosen very carefully as well. For example the trainee group only had korean members and a manager who had known BTS for years.

Yuna gave me a lot of reading material and DVDs so I could refresh some of the information, and my homework was officially to fangirl. In a week I would join the other girls- 21 in total, three per era- for another workshop kind of thing. With basically more BTS stuff. As if that wasn't enough; they were paying me!

21 girls, fangirls, were waiting in front of the Big Hit building. Everyone was best friends already. The love for the same seven boys did this to you. So while we were discussing our favorite songs ans eras, we didn't notice how Yuna was waiting for us by the door.

"Girls, come in!," she had to yell for us to finally look up and move. I had found the girls from my group, Anne and Lia. They had been fans since BTS' debut like me, and were around my age.

"The first part of the workshop is about safety, things you should pay attention to," Yuna explained,"Afterwards you are taking the cars with your group to the theme park. During the ride you will listen to another seminar about your specific era."

Seated in a meeting room, we were given snacks and drinks. A Big Hit staff repeated what we already knew. But it made clear that the rules were important and we had to work hard to make the project perfect.

And before we knew, we were already inside the car driving to out of Seoul. The exact location was a secret, and I was too bad at orientation to know where we ended. The lecture inside the car didn't have any new information as well, so at some point we started chatting by ourselves.

I learned that Anne was from London and casted during a concert just like me. Lia on the other hand was Korean and one of the known BTS-fancafé members. Another thing we had in common was that we saw BTS as our babies and couldn't chose a favorite member.

The project long forgotten and deep in our conversation, we didn't realize that we had arrived until the door flew open. The view in front of us was nothing we expected, bigger than any project so far. A little town almost, just for us.

The gate greeted us with the words:

"Welcome home, ARMY."

#bts #fanfiction #fantasy #jungkook #v #taehyung #jimin #namjoon #rm #jhope #hoseok #suga #yoongi #jin #bangtan #bts fluff #bts scenarios #bts story #we are not seven #bts fanfic #fanfic

[lothirielswanmarvel]

Love & Blue Lips [12]

Continue the journey of Avengers: Love and Lightning here, part II of new series, The Collector’s Cosmic Romance Saga! Love, fortune and glory to you!!

~*~

“Loki?” I stammered out his name. It felt weird to say his name and actually address him; I was more used to the Loki who lived inside the Avengers’ jokes.

The god of Mischief’s emerald eyes glimmered. He took an emphasized step away from me. “Ugh—I would suggest making use of a breath mint, or incense.”

I frowned, and forced myself to sit up on the center of the bed. I should've been alarmed, but I was too tired for that kind of effort. I looked around. The black cat was gone.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“Keeping my brother away from Loki Land—A-Asgard, I mean Asgard,” Loki corrected himself in a very diplomatic manner. “I heard of what transpired on Alfheim. I can't let Asgard be invaded during its new golden era, we’re prospering! I’m still writing The Tragedy of Loki of Asgard—”

“Wait a minute,” Something clicked in my clouded mind. I really had to focus to catch it in time. “You’re the one responsible for Heimdall? What are you doing to Asgard—? Mmph!”

Loki clamped a hand against my mouth, which was ice cold. He jerked it away afterwards. He held his tainted hand away from his body, “I must wash my hands. Please excuse me for a moment,”

I let myself fall back onto the bed and listened to the curious sounds of Loki washing his hands one room over. He still talked to me, expecting me to listen over the roar of the faucet, “I’ve seen the way my brother looks at you. I cannot let you marry Asta; you are the only thing that will keep him away from Asgard. Also...I believe that you’re a healthy choice for him. He's chosen some dreadful ones in the past, Amora included. You’re a nice change...you’re good for him.”

I stared at Loki upside down when he came out. He was gently massaging his hands with a towel, then held up the beige piece of fabric in disgust and flung it back into the other room.

“Aww, you really do care about him—why is it so hot in here?” I complained and stripped off my socks.

“That’s the fever. Mortals are such fragile beings—here,” Loki sat down beside me and took my hands in his. He softly blew cold air on my skin. I could see the frosty mist with my own eyes, similar to the fog from the other night. The room seemed to grow colder. I felt a chilling layer of frost on my knuckles.

“Is that a frost giant thing?” I asked out loud. A cough erupted from my chest at the end, along with an instinct that told me my question wasn't something to ask outright.

Loki nodded slowly and solemnly. He snatched a tissue box from the nightstand and offered it to me politely. He waited until my coughing fit had died down to continue, “Yes...at least Thor finally scored one with a head on their shoulders. Alright, Amora’s clever, but I'm the only one allowed to wear green, here. That woman oversteps her bounds.”

“Yeah. She takes up your spotlight quite a bit.”

Loki scowled at me. He threw a quick glance at the door. “We have company. You cannot let Amora take the Eternal Flame, which would be a very good symbol for Asgard’s golden era. I might steal it from Gerd afterwards—”

I heard footsteps outside. Loki spoke more quickly now. I could barely keep up, “—damn, the oaf is here. You have to seduce him somehow, and keep him far, far away from Asgard. I have no idea what he finds attractive here,” he gestured at all of me, “but when he walks through that door, you better make yourself an offering to the gods—chop chop, go be a human sacrifice.”

“Ew. Please stop trying to be my matchmaker.”

Loki didn't reply. He shrunk down in a cloud of green mist. The black cat from earlier took his place, staring at me with a look that clearly stated, ‘you will not mess this up, human.’

I looked up as the door creaked open. Even in my dull, sickened state, my heart fluttered when Thor popped his head in. “Hi.”

I tried to avoid staring directly into his eyes. The embarrassment of everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours seemed to amplify when he was in the room.

“Hey,” I cleared my throat, “be careful, I have the plague.”

Thor ignored my warning, creeping further into the doorway. He held up a paper bag, “I brought soup, and some oddly-shaped pastries.”

The cat shot me a look, as if that proved his point about something. I didn't really care. Soup sounded nice. I managed to pull myself back into a sitting position. I was going to be an adult about this. “Thank you, Thor. That's very sweet of you.”

Thor finally entered the room and closed the door softly behind him. As he walked in, he paused. “It's cold in here.”

I spared another glance at the cat/god of mischief/my new matchmaker. He tried to appear innocent. “Yeah. I think the heater’s broken.”

Should I have said something about Loki the Cat? I was too sick to comprehend the answer. I didn't want to deal with it right now.

Thor handed me the bag and scratched Loki the Cat underneath the chin. “Looks like you have good company.”

“Mrow.”

Thor grinned when the cat answered. I just shot it a foul look, “It’s okay. I’m more of a dog person.”

Loki the Cat’s ears flattened.

I removed the soup from the paper bag. When I glanced in, I identified the weirdly-shaped pastries as croissants. I settled back against the headboard of the bed.

“Here, let me,”

“Oh, um, thanks.” Thor situated the pillows behind me as I eased back. My breath caught in my throat when he leaned in close.

“Your lips are blue.”

“What?”

“Your lips are blue, it’s too cold in here,” Thor glanced around. “I don't see any more blankets. Would you like me to lie with you?”

I choked on my first try of the soup, which was actually an herbal delight. I was too busy trying to process what I had just heard. “You want to...lie with me?”

Why would he lie? That’s more Loki’s thing. Something seems amiss here…

Then it finally hit me. “Oh! Sure, if you want—wait, I don't want you to get sick.”

“I'm a god, Evie. Sickness trembles before me,” Thor slipped in next to me and pulled the covers over us. Already he was trapping the heat inside. Between the soup and his closeness, being sick wasn't nearly as bad as I thought.

It was impossible to be uncomfortable in Thor’s presence. I’d forgotten all formalities and professionalism as I snuggled into his side. Thor’s hoodie was much more comfortable against my skin than his armor. He wrapped an arm around me and found a remote on the dresser, “Would you like to watch something?”

“Okay.”

Most of the channels were in french, but it didn't matter. Thor settled on a french soap opera (I think), although the television felt more like background noise.

I was halfway through the soup by now. “This is really good, thank you for bringing this.”

“Of course.” His arm tightened around me. “Evie, I'm sorry about earlier. About Amora.”

I froze. My hunger melted away. I shook my head as I packaged the soup back up and put it away. “Don't. It's not your fault.”

“It is. She hurt you, and I will not allow that to stand.” Thor insisted.

“Don't worry about it, please, I just want to forget the whole thing. I don't even know what I did to piss her off,” I pleaded and looked up at him.

“I don't think that's part of it.” Thor said. “She hurt you because...she knows I like you.”

I blinked a few times. Was I becoming delusional? “You do?”

“Yes, I do.” His whispered confirmation sent a shiver through me. It shouldn't have shocked me so much to hear it out loud. I wasn't expecting the reveal during my plague outbreak, either.

“Even with the puke and snot balls? Seriously?”

“The cute little red nose, too,” Thor added with a smile.

Blue lips, red nose. Am I a poem or a cautionary tale?

I smiled back, “I really like—” I was interrupted by a fit of coughing. My face burned from ruining the moment. “I'm sorry, that wasn't very smooth.”

I took a deep breath and tried again. “I really like you, too.”

Thor’s lips split into the hugest smile I had seen yet. “Even with the arrogance and ex-lovers?”

“The cute little red cape, too,” I insisted.

Thor’s hand caressed my cheek as he leaned down. Our lips met.

It was gentle, which surprised me. Even with the scratch of Thor’s beard, his lips seemed to softly caress mine with kisses. I felt a wave of intimacy—that sounded stupid, since it was kissing, but I felt something deep about it. Something just...right.

My arms were locked around Thor’s neck and I still managed to run my fingers against his scalp. His breath came out harder, almost a hiss. The warmth made my mouth tingle.

Thor parted from me suddenly, grimacing. “Ah...you are definitely sick.”

My eyes widened and I instinctively covered my mouth. I started to wiggle out of his grasp when he pulled me back in, close.

“I don't care,” He murmured, and his lips crashed back onto mine.

“I'm really loving this, but I might need a break to breathe, you know, because I'm sick.”

“—Right, yes, of course. And, Evie?”

“Yeah?”

He grinned. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

~Author’s Note~

*Loki the Cat sighs at the edge of the bed, flipping through french soap operas with the remote*

Scott Lang: Aww, that's so sweet c: that is so true love!!!

Tony Stark: Eww, that's so disgusting. That is so unhygienic!!!

Wanda Maximoff: I love them, but I wanna spray them with a Lysol can so bad.

Vision: This scene is a true testimony to love. It isn't all of the romantic moments under perfect circumstances. It is loving one another despite imperfections, and it is beautiful.

Shuri: ...But it's still disgusting.

Author: Hia Awesome Adventurers!! Hope you enjoyed the blossoming of our new little romance c: more fun scenes to come! Love, fortune and glory to you!!

#Thor Odinson #thor #thor x reader #thor x y/n #peter quill #peter quill x reader #thor x oc #marvel #Marvel Comics #Avengers #The Avengers #MCU #MCU fic #MCU fanfiction #loki #Loki Laufeyson #loki odinson #tony stark #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #sam wilson #tchalla #Shuri #scott lang #Vision #Guardians of the Galaxy #clint barton #Stephen Strange #doctor strange #deadpool

[on-holidays-by-mistake]

A Romantic poet and his lost friend

OK, I promised @ghostplantss to make this post so I did! (It took me eons haha I’m sorry)

There is a lovely and very sad XIX century poem called The Friend’s Shadow by Konstantin Batyushkov (if you’re into old-fashioned homoromantic poetry you should really check it out), and here is the story behind it. (Please excuse my poor English, it is obviously not my first language. Feel free to correct me.)

Warning: mentions of death and mental disorder. Please be careful.

Konstantin Batyushkov (1787–1855) was a notable Russian poet of the Romantic era. He is best known for his beautiful elegies. During his lifetime Batyushkov was struggling with some sort of mental disorder running in his family. He often felt insecure and anxious, but his poems were full of harmony he couldn’t achieve in real life.

Despite his poor health, he joined the army in 1807 to fight Napoleon. He was wounded and sent to hospital where he met a young officer called Ivan Petin (1788–1813). The two became close friends. Together they took part in several military campaigns. In his memoirs Batyushkov wrote:

“Our souls were alike. The same passions, the same predilections, the same impetuous and carefree nature that was characteristic of me in my early youth captivated me in my comrade. The habit of being together, enduring together the labors and cares of war, sharing dangers and pleasures, all this bound us more closely.” (c)

The poet was clearly fascinated by his friend, whom he always described as a very kind and calm person. (I’m not a scholar so I can’t speculate whether it was a romantic attraction or not; I’ve heard some rumours but unfortunately I failed to find any reliable sources on the subject.)

In 1813 Petin was killed in the Battle of the Nations near Leipzig, aged 25. Batyushkov survived; he searched the battlefield only to find a fresh grave of his friend. He was grief-stricken. Later in his memoirs he wrote:

“I saw this grave, covered with fresh earth; I stood over it in deep sorrow and gave relief to my heart with tears. It contained the most precious treasure of my life – friendship. I asked, begged the respectable and very ancient priest of the village to preserve the fragile memorial, a simple wooden cross, with the brave young man’s name inscribed on it.” (c)

He later wrote one of his best elegies, The Friend’s Shadow, in which he created an ideal image of his lost friend. He also wanted to put a headstone on his grave but I don’t know if he succeeded. Later in his life, he used to draw this grave over and over again, among other melancholic sketches.

Batyushkov’s poems were highly praised by his contemporaries, but his mental and physical health was getting worse and worse. He was traumatized by war, he had various family troubles, and his love life was quite unhappy (none of his affairs with women resulted in marriage). He became more and more depressed and paranoid, and in his mid-30s he lost his sanity completely. He spent the rest of his life under medical care, delusional and lost in his own world. (Today he would probably be diagnosed with schizophrenia.) He died in 1855, aged 68.

The motive of friendship, camaraderie and brotherhood was a very popular thing in the Russian poetry of the early XIX century, and The Friend’s Shadow is the beautiful example of it. In his memoirs Batyushkov regretted that Petin would probably be forgotten like many other modest heroes; he was definitely not, being immortalized by his friend’s poetry.

On a happier note, here are some pictures! (Here’s the source.) The one on the left is a portrait of Batyushkov by Orest Kiprensky; the second one is a presumable sketch of Petin – drawn, well, by Batyushkov himself. I kinda love his Roman profile combined with a stylish haircut. :3

#konstantin batyushkov #poetry #russian poetry #russian history #mental disorder #xix century #friendship #history #romanticism #romantic era

[robotslenderman]

So like

in my blatantly-self-indulgent-time-travelling-Nerevarine!AU,

That Morrowind DLC main quest went a little differently at one point.

Cut for spoilers

TL;DR -- Haven finally sorta-meets Seht, yells at two thirds of the Tribunal in one day, almost gets murdered by one of them again. Not in that order.

So, there’s a bit where you grab the staff that’s full of Vivec’s power, stick it in the ground, and try to return it to him. That’s the part where Barbas reveals himself and is like “BUAHAHAHA YOU’RE KILLING HIM”

And Haven is like “OH FUCK” because, yeah, fuck Vivec, but also Baar Dau, so she and Seryn stop the ritual

and Vivec is almost dead

And Llevule is like FUCK FUCK FUCK WHAT DO WE DO

and at that point he pulls himself together and sends you for the ritual stone, but Haven was like “NAH FAM, WE GOTTA GET LEXI (fuck I hate her*)”

* She doesn’t hate Almalexia, she’s just still mad about the whole you-killed-me-once-and-tried-to-do-it-AGAIN thing

She runs outside, but Baar Dau is falling, and she’s like OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK

but then Vehk stops it

and Haven is like FUCK, I CAN’T JUST SAIL OVER TO THE MAINLAND, I NEED TO GET THERE QUICKER THAN THAT, HE CAN’T HOLD OUT FOR HOWEVER LONG THAT’S GONNA TAKE

then she remembers that she can literally fucking teleport between Tribunal cities and has been able to for centuries

Haven has been wearing Barilzar’s mazed band for over two hundred years. She takes that thing off as rarely as she does Moon-and-Star, because it’s one of her few connections to the long-dead Tribunal in the 4th era.

So she just uses that thing to fuck off to Mournhold (much to the guards’ confusion, because WTF she just VANISHED) and hammer on the temple door in the dead of night in Mournhold

and the Hands of Almalexia are like “What the fuck, you can’t just do that????? that’s illegal?????”

and Haven is like “DO I LOOK LIKE I FUCKING HAVE TIME FOR THIS???  I DO NOT FUCKING HAVE TIME FOR THIS. GET HER ASS UP. NOW”

And she’s rambling about how Vivec is dying and Baar Dau is coming down and Red Mountain is erupting, so the Hands are like “sigh, looks like we have another delusional worshipper, we better get her out of here”

except when they try Haven is like “CAN YOU NOT, I DON’T WANT TO HAVE TO CUT YOU DOWN TO GET MY ASS IN THERE, CAN YOU NOT???”

Hands are like “sorry bud but we just doin our jobs”

“OH MY FUCKING GOD, FINE, HAVE IT YOUR WAY”

So Haven’s now in a tussle with the fucking Hands of Almalexia that are guarding her chambers. Manages to dispatch a handful of them, goes back to yelling at Almalexia’s door

Almalexia wakes up

She is Not Amused

Soon as she sees that someone is fucking murdering her Hands she just goes all Mama Bear

Haven gets swept off her feet by this huge blast of magic and sent straight into a wall over ten feet away. Ouch. Concussed, barely able to breathe, it’s a miracle she’s still conscious

And Ayem is like

YOU HAVE THREE SECONDS TO TELL ME WHAT THE HELL YOU ARE DOING BEFORE I KILL YOU

and Haven just manages to gasp out, “Vehk is dying, Baar Dau’s coming down, we need you at Vivec now”

and that’s when Ayem recognises Nerevar (Haven helped a few years ago in Mournhold, so it’s not the first time Ayem’s run into time-travelling-Nerevar), comes closer, demands explanation. Haven gives it to her -- Barbas has drained Vivec almost entirely of his power, he is dying, Vvardenfell is on the brink of being wiped out, “And you don’t want to see what other kind of damage Red Mountain can do when it erupts, trust me, you really don’t. I can take you to his side. Please. Come with me.”

So Ayem touches Haven’s arm, and Haven teleports them both to the palace at Vivec City. Ayem bounds up the stairs through the ash. Haven staggers somewhat considerably more slowly after her, on account of having been thrown into a wall, and is like, “Fuck, is this what being on the end of a Fus-Roh-Dah feels like??? FUCK”

By the time Ayem has fed Vivec some of her energy, enough to get him sitting up on his bed again, Haven finally staggers into the room, still gasping for air, and looks at Vivec and is like “SHE ALMOST FUCKING KILLED ME. AGAIN. FUCKING HELL. ALSO FUCK YOUR STAIRS.”

Ayem just fixes her with a wave of her hand. So now Haven’s overcome with dizziness because she can breathe again and just collapses to her knees. “Fuck! I think you broke my ribs! Sweet, sweet air! Fuck! Remind me never to piss you off! Well, I know what happens when I piss you off, I fucking die, but fuuuuck!”

(Basically Haven takes every available opportunity to try and guilt trip them about that time they killed her four three thousand years back.)

I think from there she uses Barilzar’s mazed band again to get to the Clockwork City to find Sotha Sil so he can direct her to the reservoir. (”Great, I have to talk to ALL THREE OF YOU today???? FUCK, JUST WHAT MY DEAD ASS ALWAYS WANTED. Let’s have a party! Maybe this time I won’t get MURDERED”) But he’s plugged into the city, so she has to rap on his helmet-thingy for a while before she realises he’s totally out of it and not coming to help. (”You’re a god, and you can’t tell I’m RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOUR FACE??!?! fdsjflksjdflkjsdlfkffffffffff”)

She ends up getting lost throughout the Brass Fortress, eventually pieces together where the Reservoir is on her own, and goes there to kick Barbas’s ass.

The Tribunal are extremely annoyed they’re indebted to the guy they murdered a while back, especially when his incarnation won’t shut the fuck up about it.

#Haven #ESO #TES #Nerevarine #Nerevarine AU

[pleaseanotherbook]

Keeper of the bees Blog Tour #2: A review

"There is no comparison. I'm a monster."

"So am I," she says in a silky voice. "My monster lives inside my head. People are afraid of monsters, wherever they reside."

"People are fools."

“Keeper of the bees” è il secondo volume di una serie urban fantasy di Meg Kassel edito da Entangled: Teen e in uscita il 4 settembre. Io naturalmente me ne sono innamorata immediatamente solo dalle premesse, che mi hanno conquistato solo con la parola “api”. Ma d’altronde si sa, io le ossessioni mica le curo, le alimento. Sono stata tanto fortunata da avere una copia in anteprima, in cui immergermi e che mi ha fatto compagnia in un lunghissimo viaggio verso il mare.

Dresden è maledetto. Il suo petto ospita un alveare pieno di api che non è in grado di fermare quando vogliono pungere qualcuno con un veleno che induce la psicosi. Il suo volto è un insieme che muta velocemente di tutte le persone che sono morte a causa delle sue punture. E gira così da secoli – da quando aveva diciotto anni e la magia scorreva nel suo paese natale, corrompendo le persone. Segue da tempo gli annunciatori della morte, così che possa colpire con la sua maledizione solo coloro che stanno per morire in ogni caso. Ma quando arriva in una città del Midwest segnata dalla morte, incontra Essie, una ragazza di diciassette anni che soffre di una forma debilitante di allucinazioni e delusione. Le sue api vogliono pungerla appena compare sotto i suoi occhi. Ma Essi non vede un mostro quando guarda Dresden. Essi è affascinata e deliziata dal cambio dei suoi lineamenti. Rischiando la propria vita, Dresden trattiene le sue api e la risparmi. Quello che inizia come un semplice atto di indulgenza finisce per disfare la vita solitaria di Dresden e quella tormentata di Essie. La loro romance impossibile potrebbe essere abbastanza potente da distruggere una maledizione lunga secoli.

Vi potrei raccontare come nasce la mia fissazione per le api, ma poi toglierei tutto il fascino che nasconde e preferisco tenere per me questo amore solido e viscerale. Eppure appena leggo “api” mi devo impossessare del titolo e “Keeper of the bees” non ha fatto eccezioni. Ammetto di essere stata un po’ inquietata dal fatto che un intero alveare risiede addirittura nel petto di un ragazzo costretto da secoli a convivere con uno sciame dotato di una propria volontà che spesso diventa totalmente indipendente. Eppure, non se ne può prescindere perché il fulcro di tutta la storia ruota intorno alla volontà di Dresden di liberare o no le sue api, e chi decide di pungere e chi no. Potrebbe sembrare l’incontro impossibile tra due emarginati, eppure finisce per essere una storia in cui ci si interroga molto su cosa è giusto e cosa è sbagliato, ma soprattutto quali sono le conseguenze delle proprie azioni. Perché non c’è niente di semplice o lineare, ogni passo che compiamo è la somma delle nostre segrete speranze, l’incedere lento verso la risoluzione dei nostri atti. E da un lato c’è appunto Dresden questo uomo dall’aspetto di diciottenne e il peso di secoli sulle spalle, plasmato dagli eventi che ha provocato con le sue api, incapace di vedere oltre il velo di disperazione che gli casca addosso ogni volta che fa un passo verso il futuro.  Dresden compie gli stessi gesti da così tanto tempo che viene scosso dal profondo da una ragazza come Essie che lo vede sul serio per la prima volta, che sfugge da ogni logica perché il suo è un mondo irreale, fatto di spettri, apparizioni, visioni che offuscano il suo senso del reale e del tangibile. Ma quello che colpisce di Essie è la sua forza d’animo, il suo ottimismo, la sua volontà di superare ogni confine che sembra tenerla lontana dai suoi pensieri e la sua famiglia. Dresden che già sfugge alla logica, perché è un essere sovrannaturale, le renderà giustizia, in modi che neanche immagina. Insieme lotteranno, per loro stessi, per la città di Essi e soprattutto per la loro relazione appena sbocciata, che dovrà affrontare ogni prova, anche la più terribile.

Il worldbuilding della Kassel è straordinariamente minuzioso, pur fornendo pochissime spiegazioni sul modo in cui Dresden è diventato ciò che è, che in fondo era la parte che mi interessava di più, ma le descrizioni delle api sono molto accurate. Ed è questo l’elemento chiave che fa la differenza in tutta la storia.

 Il particolare da non dimenticare? Una finestra…

 Un racconto straordinaria di amore e lotta, una guerra tra bene e male che passa attraverso la normale vita di una cittadina del Midwest che si riempie di terrore e paranormale, in cui le api, per una volta, non sono così buone come sembra.

Buona lettura guys!

Ringrazio immensamente Entangled Teen e NetGalley per avermi regalato la possibilità di leggere questo libro in anteprima e YA Bound Book Tours per avermi regalato l’opportunità di partecipare al blog tour promozionale.

Per consultare il calendario del Blog Tour potete andare a questo link.

#Meg Kassel #review #blog tour #good #ya #paranormal #urban fantasy #api #bees #Entangled: Teen

[ellenlucasonlinedatingblog]

The Fascinating Link Between Alien Abduction Reports and Sadomasochistic Fantasies

A surprisingly large number of people report having had paranormal experiences. For example, in a 2013 HuffPost/YouGov poll of 1,000 American adults, 32% of respondents answered yes to the question: “Have you ever had any experiences that you would consider to be ‘paranormal,’ that is, experiences which cannot be explained by current scientific understanding?” 

A paranormal experience could, of course, include a number of different things. For some, this might include saying they’ve seen a ghost; for others, it might include saying they’ve witnessed a UFO, or perhaps having been abducted by aliens.

As someone trained in the scientific method, I’m admittedly quite skeptical of paranormal reports like this. My mind is trained to go to alternative explanations—explanations rooted in science that could potentially explain them. 

In this post, we’ll focus on such explanations for those who report having been abducted by aliens specifically because, as you’ll see later on, there’s an interesting connection between alien abduction claims and sadomasochistic fantasies (and, after all, this is the Sex and Psychology blog!). 

In a fascinating 1996 paper published in the journal Psychological Inquiry, social psychologists Leonard Newman and Roy Baumeister explored some of the possible scientific explanations behind reports of UFO abductions [1].

One is that this might be part of the false memory phenomenon. Psychologists have long known that human memory is fallible, but many people fail to realize just how easy it is for false memories to be implanted. For example, in the 1980s, people were in a panic about ritualistic child abuse taking place in Satanic cults. 

“Many people fail to realize just how easy it is for false memories to be implanted.”

There was a fear that widespread abuse was taking place and that people were repressing these memories because they were so traumatic, which prompted some psychotherapists to help bring them back as a means of relieving unexplained distress. As psychologist David Ley writes: 

“In this era, therapists promoted a nationwide quest to root out evidence of children being sexually abused by hidden Satanic cults. The memories of those experiences were suppressed by psychological mechanisms, but through a blend of hypnosis and careful questioning, therapists could bring those memories flooding back…Families were disrupted, lives destroyed. Though it seems hard to believe, across the country, numerous people went to jail for decades, convicted for hideous crimes where the sole evidence was these recovered memories of long-forgotten abuse. But groundbreaking research by Elizabeth Loftus demonstrated that the very techniques used by therapists to ‘recover’ memories also worked extremely well to implant false memories and to create realistic, recalled experiences of things that never happened.”

As Newman and Baumeister discuss in their article, many people who report UFO abductions recalled or “recovered” their experiences during hypnotic states, which are precisely the circumstances under which many false memories have been shown to be implanted. It’s easy to see how this could happen if, say, the person performing hypnosis has a strong belief in UFOs and is working with a highly suggestible client who is motivated for answers behind their feelings of psychological distress.  

Related to this, another possibility is the fact that some people just seem to have a more difficult time distinguishing dreams from reality. For example, consider people with the sleep disorder narcolepsy, a condition in which people suddenly fall asleep at undesired times, such as in the middle of a conversation or during a social activity. 

“Some people just seem to have a more difficult time distinguishing dreams from reality.”

They move very abruptly between states of sleep and consciousness, and it’s thought that this might lead to more dream-reality confusion. In fact, in one study of narcoleptic patients, 83% reported having confused dreams with reality before [2]. For example, as noted in this study:

“One man, after dreaming that a young girl had drowned in a nearby lake, asked his wife to turn on the local news in full expectation that the event would be covered. Another patient experienced sexual dreams of being unfaithful to her husband. She believed this had actually happened and felt guilty about it until  she  chanced  to  meet  the  ‘lover’  from  her  dreams and realized they had not seen each other in years, and had not been romantically involved. Several patients dreamed that their parents, children, or pets had died, believing that this was true  (one  patient  even  made  a  phone  call  about  funeral  arrangements)  until  shocked  with  evidence  to  the  contrary,  when  the  presumed  deceased  suddenly  reappeared.”

Narcoleptics aren’t the only ones who sometimes confuse dreams with reality, of course. In this same study, researchers recruited a control group of healthy, age-matched individuals, of whom 15% reported having had experiences of not being able to separate dreams from reality (or “dream delusions,” as the researchers termed this). Thus, while narcoleptics experience this at highly elevated rates, people without sleep disorders sometimes have this experience, too. 

This study didn’t specifically address alien or UFO abductions, but dream-reality confusion could provide another plausible means through which some people might come to believe they have had a paranormal experience. 

There’s at least one other possible explanation—and this is where we get to sex. As Newman and Baumeister argue, sexual masochists are a subgroup of people who might be especially susceptible to believing they have been abducted by UFOs. 

Why is that? Because, in their view, escape from self-awareness is one of the defining elements of masochistic activities, such as being bound, humiliated, or subjected to pain. In their words, “masochism is a particularly effective means to deconstruct meaning and escape the self. It temporarily undermines key aspects of the self.” It is “an escape from everyday life and the ongoing pressures of modern selfhood.”

“Sexual masochists are a subgroup of people who might be especially susceptible to believing they have been abducted by UFOs.”

What masochists fantasize about and desire sexually holds a lot of parallels to the activities that abductees describe. As Newman and Baumeister argue: “The main features of masochism—both actual activities and fantasies—are pain, loss of control, and humiliation. All three of these themes dominate UFO abduction accounts.”

For example, when you look at the scenarios that abductees describe, pain is often one of the main features—people frequently say they were subjected to unpleasant and painful activities aboard UFOs. They also often report being restrained—tied or pinned down—in a way that makes them lose their sense of control. They say they are frequently subjected to humiliating sexual acts, too, such as being led around by the genitals or having unwanted devices inserted in their rectums. 

Incidentally, my own research on sexual fantasies is consistent with this: I surveyed more than 4,000 Americans about their sexual fantasies for my book Tell Me What You Want, and among the many things I asked about were fantasies involving aliens. Alien fantasies were correlated with having more fantasies in general about receiving pain, being humiliated, and being tied up. 

Newman and Baumeister go on to claim that: “Abductees overall seem to fit the profile of people who would be expected to be drawn to fantasies of escaping the self. These people would thus be especially likely to construct a classic UFO abduction narrative when hypnotized.” 

Thus, they are not suggesting that masochists in general tend to believe they have been abducted by UFOs or aliens; rather, their claim is really that this is a subgroup of persons who might be especially prone to false memories or dream-reality confusion involving UFO abduction. The motivation to escape the self that underlies many masochistic desires may predispose masochists to construct such scenarios and, under the right circumstances (e.g., recovered memories during hypnosis), they might even come to believe them as true. 

Want to learn more about Sex and Psychology ? Click here for previous articles or follow the blog on Facebook (facebook.com/psychologyofsex), Twitter (@JustinLehmiller), or Reddit (reddit.com/r/psychologyofsex) to receive updates. You can also follow Dr. Lehmiller on YouTube and Instagram.

[1] Newman, L. S., & Baumeister, R. F. (1996). Toward an explanation of the UFO abduction phenomenon: Hypnotic elaboration, extraterrestrial sadomasochism, and spurious memories. Psychological Inquiry, 7(2), 99-126.

[2] Wamsley, E., Donjacour, C. E., Scammell, T. E., Lammers, G. J., & Stickgold, R. (2014). Delusional confusion of dreaming and reality in narcolepsy. Sleep, 37(2), 419-422.

Image Source: 123RF/imogi 

You Might Also Like:

3 Reasons People Engage in Sexual Sadism and Masochism

The Psychological Origins of BDSM: 8 Things That Draw People to Kink

Vampires and Werewolves and Mermaids, Oh My! How Many People Fantasize About Sex with Mythical Creatures?

from MeetPositives SM Feed 4 https://ift.tt/3iM4ffN via IFTTT

#IFTTT #MeetPositives SM Feed 4

[robbiemeadow]

The Fascinating Link Between Alien Abduction Reports and Sadomasochistic Fantasies

A surprisingly large number of people report having had paranormal experiences. For example, in a 2013 HuffPost/YouGov poll of 1,000 American adults, 32% of respondents answered yes to the question: “Have you ever had any experiences that you would consider to be ‘paranormal,’ that is, experiences which cannot be explained by current scientific understanding?” 

A paranormal experience could, of course, include a number of different things. For some, this might include saying they’ve seen a ghost; for others, it might include saying they’ve witnessed a UFO, or perhaps having been abducted by aliens.

As someone trained in the scientific method, I’m admittedly quite skeptical of paranormal reports like this. My mind is trained to go to alternative explanations—explanations rooted in science that could potentially explain them. 

In this post, we’ll focus on such explanations for those who report having been abducted by aliens specifically because, as you’ll see later on, there’s an interesting connection between alien abduction claims and sadomasochistic fantasies (and, after all, this is the Sex and Psychology blog!). 

In a fascinating 1996 paper published in the journal Psychological Inquiry, social psychologists Leonard Newman and Roy Baumeister explored some of the possible scientific explanations behind reports of UFO abductions [1].

One is that this might be part of the false memory phenomenon. Psychologists have long known that human memory is fallible, but many people fail to realize just how easy it is for false memories to be implanted. For example, in the 1980s, people were in a panic about ritualistic child abuse taking place in Satanic cults. 

“Many people fail to realize just how easy it is for false memories to be implanted.”

There was a fear that widespread abuse was taking place and that people were repressing these memories because they were so traumatic, which prompted some psychotherapists to help bring them back as a means of relieving unexplained distress. As psychologist David Ley writes: 

“In this era, therapists promoted a nationwide quest to root out evidence of children being sexually abused by hidden Satanic cults. The memories of those experiences were suppressed by psychological mechanisms, but through a blend of hypnosis and careful questioning, therapists could bring those memories flooding back…Families were disrupted, lives destroyed. Though it seems hard to believe, across the country, numerous people went to jail for decades, convicted for hideous crimes where the sole evidence was these recovered memories of long-forgotten abuse. But groundbreaking research by Elizabeth Loftus demonstrated that the very techniques used by therapists to ‘recover’ memories also worked extremely well to implant false memories and to create realistic, recalled experiences of things that never happened.”

As Newman and Baumeister discuss in their article, many people who report UFO abductions recalled or “recovered” their experiences during hypnotic states, which are precisely the circumstances under which many false memories have been shown to be implanted. It’s easy to see how this could happen if, say, the person performing hypnosis has a strong belief in UFOs and is working with a highly suggestible client who is motivated for answers behind their feelings of psychological distress.  

Related to this, another possibility is the fact that some people just seem to have a more difficult time distinguishing dreams from reality. For example, consider people with the sleep disorder narcolepsy, a condition in which people suddenly fall asleep at undesired times, such as in the middle of a conversation or during a social activity. 

“Some people just seem to have a more difficult time distinguishing dreams from reality.”

They move very abruptly between states of sleep and consciousness, and it’s thought that this might lead to more dream-reality confusion. In fact, in one study of narcoleptic patients, 83% reported having confused dreams with reality before [2]. For example, as noted in this study:

“One man, after dreaming that a young girl had drowned in a nearby lake, asked his wife to turn on the local news in full expectation that the event would be covered. Another patient experienced sexual dreams of being unfaithful to her husband. She believed this had actually happened and felt guilty about it until  she  chanced  to  meet  the  ‘lover’  from  her  dreams and realized they had not seen each other in years, and had not been romantically involved. Several patients dreamed that their parents, children, or pets had died, believing that this was true  (one  patient  even  made  a  phone  call  about  funeral  arrangements)  until  shocked  with  evidence  to  the  contrary,  when  the  presumed  deceased  suddenly  reappeared.”

Narcoleptics aren’t the only ones who sometimes confuse dreams with reality, of course. In this same study, researchers recruited a control group of healthy, age-matched individuals, of whom 15% reported having had experiences of not being able to separate dreams from reality (or “dream delusions,” as the researchers termed this). Thus, while narcoleptics experience this at highly elevated rates, people without sleep disorders sometimes have this experience, too. 

This study didn’t specifically address alien or UFO abductions, but dream-reality confusion could provide another plausible means through which some people might come to believe they have had a paranormal experience. 

There’s at least one other possible explanation—and this is where we get to sex. As Newman and Baumeister argue, sexual masochists are a subgroup of people who might be especially susceptible to believing they have been abducted by UFOs. 

Why is that? Because, in their view, escape from self-awareness is one of the defining elements of masochistic activities, such as being bound, humiliated, or subjected to pain. In their words, “masochism is a particularly effective means to deconstruct meaning and escape the self. It temporarily undermines key aspects of the self.” It is “an escape from everyday life and the ongoing pressures of modern selfhood.”

“Sexual masochists are a subgroup of people who might be especially susceptible to believing they have been abducted by UFOs.”

What masochists fantasize about and desire sexually holds a lot of parallels to the activities that abductees describe. As Newman and Baumeister argue: “The main features of masochism—both actual activities and fantasies—are pain, loss of control, and humiliation. All three of these themes dominate UFO abduction accounts.”

For example, when you look at the scenarios that abductees describe, pain is often one of the main features—people frequently say they were subjected to unpleasant and painful activities aboard UFOs. They also often report being restrained—tied or pinned down—in a way that makes them lose their sense of control. They say they are frequently subjected to humiliating sexual acts, too, such as being led around by the genitals or having unwanted devices inserted in their rectums. 

Incidentally, my own research on sexual fantasies is consistent with this: I surveyed more than 4,000 Americans about their sexual fantasies for my book Tell Me What You Want, and among the many things I asked about were fantasies involving aliens. Alien fantasies were correlated with having more fantasies in general about receiving pain, being humiliated, and being tied up. 

Newman and Baumeister go on to claim that: “Abductees overall seem to fit the profile of people who would be expected to be drawn to fantasies of escaping the self. These people would thus be especially likely to construct a classic UFO abduction narrative when hypnotized.” 

Thus, they are not suggesting that masochists in general tend to believe they have been abducted by UFOs or aliens; rather, their claim is really that this is a subgroup of persons who might be especially prone to false memories or dream-reality confusion involving UFO abduction. The motivation to escape the self that underlies many masochistic desires may predispose masochists to construct such scenarios and, under the right circumstances (e.g., recovered memories during hypnosis), they might even come to believe them as true. 

Want to learn more about Sex and Psychology ? Click here for previous articles or follow the blog on Facebook (facebook.com/psychologyofsex), Twitter (@JustinLehmiller), or Reddit (reddit.com/r/psychologyofsex) to receive updates. You can also follow Dr. Lehmiller on YouTube and Instagram.

[1] Newman, L. S., & Baumeister, R. F. (1996). Toward an explanation of the UFO abduction phenomenon: Hypnotic elaboration, extraterrestrial sadomasochism, and spurious memories. Psychological Inquiry, 7(2), 99-126.

[2] Wamsley, E., Donjacour, C. E., Scammell, T. E., Lammers, G. J., & Stickgold, R. (2014). Delusional confusion of dreaming and reality in narcolepsy. Sleep, 37(2), 419-422.

Image Source: 123RF/imogi 

You Might Also Like:

3 Reasons People Engage in Sexual Sadism and Masochism

The Psychological Origins of BDSM: 8 Things That Draw People to Kink

Vampires and Werewolves and Mermaids, Oh My! How Many People Fantasize About Sex with Mythical Creatures?

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[that-quiet-girl-who-writes]

Midtown High School (PP.)

A/N: I’M BACK BITCHES, and will have a new fic out everyday for a while to make up for all that time I didn’t write

Summary: You attend Midtown High School to keep an eye on the new recruit for your father. 

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!reader

Word Count: 1685

Warnings: Swearing

Masterlist

I met Peter Parker because my dad asked me to watch the new recruit while he was at school. I had been homeschooled my whole life due to the fact that I could probably learn more in the lab at the Avengers tower, than I could in any science classroom. However when Peter was recruited, I was asked to make sure he stayed out of trouble. This wasn’t something I wanted to do, I mean who the hell would want to go to a high school when you could just take online courses in bed? I fought against it, but there didn’t seem to be any chance of getting out of this.

The first day I was scheduled to arrive at Midtown High, I woke up at the proper time, but decided it wasn’t worth getting up for, which resulted in being woken up and hour later by my dad telling me that if I was going to attend school, I would have to act like I was actually supposed to be there. I dragged myself out of bed and after half an hour, I was in one of the Stark company cars. Yeah dad, that’s a great idea, have me show up to my first day of high school in what looks like a small limo, nobody’s going to get the impression that I’m a spoiled rich bitch, right? It didn’t matter, they would already think that just because of my name.

When I got there, I hopped out of the car, said goodbye to Happy and slowly made my way to the school. The only reason Happy had driven me was because my dad had thought that nobody but the head of security was qualified to accompany me through the city he had deemed to dangerous for me to be alone in.

As I made my way up to the brick building, I heard the bell ring. I checked the time and realized it must be lunch.

“Damn, I missed my first class.” I muttered, completely unfazed, to myself.

I sat down on a bench and watched a sea of kids go by, heading out for lunch. After a while, nobody was around, so I began to walk around the school just to get a feel for where exactly it was that I was being sent. Just as I turned a corner, I watched a boy do a flip over a tall chain fence that should not be possible for any normal human to even jump over. I could safely guess that I had found my target. Okay, that sounded like I was hunting him. I had found the guy I was supposed to be watching. Aaaannnnnd that sounded like I was stalking him. Close enough.

After lunch, was of course, gym class. I didn’t need exercise, I trained with the Avengers twice a week! Somebody was going to pay for sending me to this stupid school. I went to the change room and listened to some girls gossip about god knows what while I changed into the not-so-flattering school phys-ed uniform. It was the same for everyone, girls and guys alike, a dark blue shirt with the school logo and some yellow shorts that were in my opinion, extremely uncomfortable. Doing my hair up best I could, I went to meet with the teacher and basically ask what the hell I was supposed to do. On my way around the gym, I got a few stares. Being Tony Stark's daughter, I was bound to have a few photos out on the internet, no matter how hard I tried to hide my face from the public.

About halfway through the class, I was climbing up one of the many ropes, sort of just hanging around, not doing much except watching the boy I had seen flip earlier. I had a tiny ear piece in that my dad had given to me, so that I could hear what he was talking about. Not creepy at all dad, not creepy at all. I knew it was really my choice as to whether or not I used it, and even though I did find it creepy, it was fun playing spy, so I tuned into the teenager’s conversation. So far, I had learned his name was Peter, his friends name was Ned, and that Ned had somehow figured out Peter’s secret.

Ned was pretty much just asking a bunch of random questions about Spiderman, so once he started going on about being Peter’s “guy in the chair”, I started tuning into other people’s conversations. I adjusted the earpiece and fumbled with a little button until I came across a group of girls playing Fuck, Marry, Kill with the Avengers.

“You see, for me it would be F Thor, Marry Iron Man and Kill Hulk.” Said a blonde girl sitting on the bleachers. Oh great, so my future step mother was in my phys-ed class. And kill Hulk? Why the fuck would you kill Bruce? That’s when I remembered that most people didn’t know him as Bruce, the genius who was basically their teacher since they were six years old, but as Hulk, the angry green giant.

“What about the Spiderman?” One of her friends asked her.

“It’s just Spiderman.” She replied. Another girl brought up the videos of the masked hero fighting off criminals while being outnumbered, which made her friends tease her about crushing on a guy that for all they knew, was an ugly 30 year old man. I was happy to be the only one to know just how cute Spiderman actually was, something that I probably wouldn’t be including in my report to my dad.

Just then, Ned spontaneously yelled out “Peter knows Spiderman!”. It wasn’t until that point that I realized the two friends had definitely been listening in on the conversation as well. Almost everyone in the gym froze and looked towards Peter, who had a panicked look on his face as he stumbled off of his gym mat. I watched him stutter out that he didn’t really know Spiderman until I noticed the boy on the rope next to me drop down and walk over.

“They’re friends!” Ned told everyone. Jeez, did this kid know when to shut up?

“Yeah, like coach Wilson and Captain America are friends.” Said the kid who had been on the rope. A few of the girls on the bleachers laughed, making me feel kinda bad for Peter. It was pretty clear that he wasn’t very popular here, so I dropped down off my rope and walked a little closer to the scene.

“Ah, I-I’ve met him, yeah, a couple times, but it’s, um, through the Stark Internship.” Peter tried to cover up. “Yeah, I’m not really supposed to talk about it.” He said, gritting his teeth and glaring at Ned.

“Well, that’s awesome. Hey, you know what? Maybe you should invite him to Liz’s party?”

“Okay, come on, that’s just mean.” I spoke up. Now everyone was looking at me. So much for staying in the background.

“Y/N?” Peter said, staring at me like he had seen a ghost. This caught me off guard, as I had no idea that Peter knew what I looked like.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Asked the kid who I was now finding to be pretty annoying.

“Y/N. Y/N Stark.” I told him. As soon as he heard my last name, he stuck out his hand and introduced himself.

“Flash Thompson.” He said as I reluctantly took his hand.

“Hi.” I said.

“Wait, Stark as in Tony Stark?” Asked one of the girls on the bleachers.

“Yep.”

“You’re Tony Stark’s daughter? You’re Iron Man’s daughter?”

“Yep.”

“So we finally have someone who can shut Parker up.” Said Flash.

“What?” I asked.

“Peter here keeps going on about how he has an internship with Stark industries and we know he’s lying, but he’s sticking to his story. So how about you come over here and explain to Parker that he’s delusional?”

“Excuse me? Okay, first of all, I don’t believe for a second that Peter runs around bragging about having an internship and second of all, just because you think that you’re better than other people, doesn't mean I’m just going to do exactly what you say. Now, what makes you think Peter doesn't have an internship? Because just to clear this all up, he does. I’ve seen him around the Avengers tower many times.” This wasn’t exactly a lie. Although Peter and I had never met, I had a bad habit of spending hours messing around in the security room and watching the cameras. This also led to me being fairly skilled at hacking into the system.

Flash just looked between Peter and I, trying to find something to say until the bell sounded through the gym, letting everyone know they could finally leave.

“Saved by the bell.” I said, smirking at the boy as he began to walk away. I turned to see Peter and Ned talking, and since I had nobody else to talk too, I figured now was just as good a time as any to formally introduce myself to Peter Parker. Just as I approached them, Ned turned around.

“Hi.” I said, far more cheery than when I had greeted Flash. “So Peter, I thought I should probably introduce myself since we’ll probably be seeing a lot more of each other. Same with you Ned.”

“Um, hi.” Said Ned, who looked absolutely dumbfounded that I knew his name.

“Oh, and Peter, I just have one question for you, how do you know who I am?”

“Oh, um, Mr. Stark showed me a couple of pictures of you.”

“Of course he did.” I said, a blush creeping up on my face. There was no doubt in my mind that those photos had probably not been the most flattering ones. “Okay, well, I have to go figure out where my next class is. Bye, Ned. Bye, Spidey.” I said with a wink as the two boys watched me walk out the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~A/N: Just want to say that Taglist is open (Fandom, Era, Character or Series) and so are requests!

Taglist (All Stories): @purelittleblueberry

#peter parker #peter x reader #peter parker x reader #x reader #reader insert #xreader #reader #writing #marvel #spider-man #Spider-Man: Homecoming #one-shot #one-shots #imagine #reader imagine #stark!reader #midtown high school

[lovehaswonangelnumbers]

New Post has been published on https://lovehaswonangelnumbers.org/crucial-changeable-moments/

Crucial & Changeable Moments

Crucial & Changeable Moments

By A Gift From Gaia

Good evening everyone, well as you are all aware I’m busy preparing for the website to go live but as we are not quite there I am posting this week’s energy report here, for now, as it will be stored on the website too so that we are able to go back and look at the beginnings of portals etc should we need to. It’s quite helpful to be able to do this when we are looking at patterns, personal and collective, well that’s if you are as interested as I am

I am super excited to be building a home for my light work to be housed, a place where it can be found, for whoever is seeking more, whatever that more may be, and even I can become complacent at times and need to go over an old key to allow it to completely merge with me and I am even more excited to completely open my heart and share the wisdom received.

A new era for A Gift from Gaia is looming and I want to thank you all for being so patient.

Here is this week’s energy report

These are the website posts but I want to be sure you get them immediately……we are almost there!

Energetic Navigation for 1st – 7th December 2019

We are here at one of the most crucial and changeable months of 2019 but there is no time to look back now, this is where we move fully into the Capricorn energy and begin to realise how to truly surf these energies and Capricorn is about to reconnect The All to meet their inner goat or their goat totem if you aren’t too keen on goats, lets just say you are either going to love it or hate it by the end but either way we will all have the opportunity to learn what aligning to energy is all about.

Slow steady progression is the way we move, cosmic goats move confidently and carefully up those steep mountain slopes and we will all do well to stay aware that our journey is exactly that, up a very steep mountain face to get to the top which from down here at the foot of the mountain looks to be nothing less than heaven, I can see beautiful light structures, pillars of light, I can see the trees abundant in fruit hanging over the edge of the cliff, and I can hear the most magical celestial music being played, what I can also see are some magnificent view points and places to rest along the way, these are also abundantly filled with everything needed to take a breather and whilst I see these amazing spaces I can also see a few danger spots, some can be avoided by holding focus, and some look as though I am either going to have to head straight through although….things could change once I reach those points, they could clear or perhaps I can find a new route once I am up there, who knows, but what matters most is that we begin this journey and focus on the NOW.

We begin the week with Jupiter creeping ever closer to the borders of Capricorn, so for now I would highly suggest that you conserve your energy and begin to dream big, look at the areas that have become super light filled, those areas you became “aware” of during 2019 and cleared, they have had a new foundation set, a “Promise to Self” has been made to never experience those old ways again, which means a new way or a new foundation of how it should be/begin will be forming, setting, and will soon, if not now, be ready to build upon and it is in those spaces that I encourage you to focus, to fill up with gratitude for the ability to receive the keys that unlocked those programs that brought nothing but stress to the field, so now, now how do you imagine the new light structure to look, how to you dream to experience that space now? Dream it, see it as your path to follow and expand upon it because as Jupiter moves into Capricorn this week we begin to make the goat steps to create this newness.

What is important to mention is that Jupiter is still just kissing the Galactic Centre goodbye, the orb spans from 26 degrees Sagittarius to 0 degree Capricorn, what’s entering your field are the codes from your Ancient Future Self, passed through the planet of expansion, of luck, wisdom and authority, so please remember those who are in the phases of clearing the restrictions it always appears as “difficult” in the beginning, but hold focus, all is happening in Divine Time and Divine Order to reveal those parts deeply hidden underneath the layers of pain and suffering you have been holding onto, all must be revealed to be released, it’s how this works. Those who have attuned to these codes will be data crunching and recoding the physical body through expansion, finding new ways to support the physical more, we have learned that the secret to abundance is though health, a healthy mind and a healthy body creates a more high vibrational energy field and it is through this magnetised field that we create our reality, these new codes have been delivering the goods so to speak, all we need do is apply everything received into the experience.

Jupiter in Capricorn is of course going to take a little bit of getting used to, everything has to become simplified in order to catch the surf, the energy of Jupiter within us needs to be observed, in fact if you think the energy of Buddha you will hit a perfect surf experience in terms of holding your frequency and maximising the experience this transit will bring. Jupiter likes to jump the gun a little, it can trigger the ego and things can get a little over excitable, and when this happens understand that you are witnessing self in the bipolar phases, high highs and low lows are to be expected in the Capricorn energies, those learning how to operate will be seen bounding up the mountain, and they will fall. Instead go within, be Buddha and find the jungle within, take time to journal instead of blurting out the light gems you retrieve from the quantum field, also learning to observe the field without the need to interrupt what is playing out before you, learning to see how it is forming, the patterns, the whys and hows that are the building blocks to the reality. Notice when you are about to leap out in reaction, hold the feeling, get to know the feeling and figure out why it came into your experience.

If you choose to truly learn to surf now and spend time with self, using the Jupiter in Capricorn energy you will surely create a Master before the end of its transit.

Also what would be good to mention here is whilst Jupiter now enters Capricorn this week he is now on his countdown to meeting up with the Lords, Saturn and Pluto, the Great conjunction of Saturn and Jupiter happens at the end of 2020, so we will have a giant size awakening and as everything is a spectrum, for now at least, we are likely to see the collective unconscious enter a giant sized karmic loop that I am not entirely sure how it can be supported and it could lead one of two ways, the theme of both is change, it will either manifest as a crash or a flow, and the only way to assist us leading the collective into the flow is to continue to take our roles here incredibly serious, to fully understand that by increasing our vibration, walking further into the pool of purity, releasing our programs and awakening all unconscious aspects so that we increase the light quotient here on Earth and by doing so we are each responsible for raising the collective frequency which in turn harmonises our race and opens more opportunities to experience, both individually and collectively, at least until that spectrum becomes One.

Who we are NOW counts, the NOW is literally the most important moment, and whilst you have all heard those words very few can hold that focus entirely throughout their day, to completely live from that now moment is the space of the Creator and Jupiter in Capricorn is going to be such a wonderful teacher.

Purpose – Precision – Integrity – Succeed – Service – Maturity – Observant – Responsive – Responsible – Respectful

Are just a few selection of words that come to mind when I feel into this energy, and so for those who made these words their priority over these past 12 months will be releasing the final remnants of the old and beginning to create their NewBuild Structures of Light.

Now whilst I say dream big Wednesday amplifies the energy with our Moon conjunct Neptune, as it’s a Wednesday and the day is ruled by Mercury perhaps observe self, and learn to decipher between the minds ideas (Mercury) and the hearts requests, when we pay a little more attention to how the body responds to our thoughts and dreams we get to learn its language without so many bumps in the reality. The flow exists in the heart and until the mind has been cleared of its old programs it continues to lead us into experiences to wake us up, but of course, you can bypass that by bringing it into your awareness now and setting reminders to be observant.

A little gem here to know is that the mind will power a million thoughts and contradicitons a minute, the heart will simply have a path and its unquestionable. Many say they don’t receive this communication yet, that all they receive is a bombardment and nothing precise, calm and sure and to that I say wonderful, you have seen your truth, that the heart hasn’t yet opened and the best is yet to come, this is the reason I share the keys of this cosmic journey, because I have found a path that I continue to expand into and experience, it has become my reality and who wouldn’t want to share that wisdom with their family of light.

So within the lower octaves this may manifest as emotional overload or perhaps some may just get a little delusional, unconscious aspects get rather loud and reactive and when this is witnessed please remember it is for you to see/experience to learn to pay attention, to understand why its in your field and the quicker you can move out of the “he said” or “she did” view the quicker you are able to neutralise the presentation, remembering blindness is not to be blamed and that anger or ignorance simply means there is currently no capacity to understand, the choice at this point is yours, do you engage or dissolve, but before you do don’t forget to see why you created it, what needs to be seen, what needs to be adjusted, what needs more of YOU, within you, and don’t forget that it has appeared for action, is this the energy you invite into your Sacred Field, because allowing just one allows All, the Universe or your field doesn’t understand allowances, we don’t work that way. When we have learned to surf these octaves and can reach the “higher” more expanded states of awareness this energy brings forward a gush of energy to surf, deciphering becomes easy, and we know the best place to head during these energies is to the drawing board and begin mapping it out and providing the path appears to be reflecting a beautiful sine wave as opposed to the spikey peaks and troughs that we once would have surfed then we know we must act now, by taking that next, sure footed goat step, not too fast, without pushing and yet don’t be hesitant either, any odds and ends of the procrastination programming will highlight the blocks to the heart frequencies.

Keep an eye on communication, Mercury spends the end of this week in opposition to Algol, some brutal ends for some, some cutting information, losing ones mind which is most helpful on the path of light and yet it was once most uncomfortable, this energy whilst dramatic can often be the most gigantic spinners that take you off into new directions, and we have more heading in next week as Mercury conjuncts the Pleiades, more incredible frequencies however this most often means the collective becomes more resistant for a while until the intensity settles and folk climatize again but we shall discuss this nearer the time and I will share how to focus and flow through.

Sending so much love

Andrea xxx

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[junker-town]

Tiger Woods did not win The Open but his Sunday was a triumph

It feels like Tiger Woods is going to win again, and that feeling alone is the great achievement of the final stage of his career.

A defining trait of the first decade of Tiger Woods’ career is that he took situations that felt like they needed a miracle and made them inevitable. This happened time and again and without fail. This ball is in a funky lie on the side of bunker and needs to fly 200 yards to get to the green? That seems impossible but it’s definitely happening. This putt from 40 feet is like a 1-in-20 chance but it’s definitely going in to force a playoff. These situations ranged from specific shots to entire rounds to entire months, and Tiger just overwhelmed the odds with an inevitability that never quite computed.

After the last five years of back surgeries, golf embarrassments and personal embarrassments, it seemed likely last summer that Tiger would never play competitive golf again. The thought that he would win again was a hopelessly romantic notion. The thought that he would win a major again was the province of only the most delusional and scary Tiger-fanboy corners of the Internet.

We overhype and over-critique everything related to Woods. Trying to seriously frame an accomplishment or failure in the world of Tiger, which has a 20-year library of overhype and overreaction, is fraught with pitfalls. Tiger left without the Claret Jug on Sunday. In a prior act of his career, that would be a failure. Now? The experience of the day, the solo lead on the back nine of a major, is a triumph.

These last five years of injuries and ignominy were an inexorable plunge on the way to forced retirement and disappearance from public life. A year ago, the proper position was that it would take a miracle for Tiger to win again. It now feels inevitable that he’s going to win again, maybe as soon as next week at Firestone. I don’t know that it’s going to happen, but it feels like it will. And Tiger just getting us back to that feeling is one of the great achievements of his career.

Here are five more thoughts on Tiger’s Sunday at the Open.

1. I think Tiger set out the template for how he’s going to try and do this going forward. It’s far different than how he won his first 14 majors and also a sign that greatest golf mind ever has been re-activated.

It was fascinating to hear him say he was trying to “build his way” into the championship. When he was 30, he’d grab control of a major over the first two days, hold a nice cushion, and spend the weekend slowly bleeding out the rest of the field. He’s never won a major coming from behind, but in all likelihood, that’s what he’s going to have to do to get one in this late stage of his career. There’s too much talent in the game now and Tiger is not capable of dominating a major like used to.

This week he hung back for two days, then got super aggressive in the middle of his Saturday round to charge into contention, and started Sunday letting the leaders fall apart ahead of him. It worked for 64 holes.

2. In the moment, Tiger’s round was a fun Sunday high. All the soaring words about how great it was to have him leading on Sunday of a major again were appropriate, even in the overwrought world of Tiger. After coming down from the high though, it also feels appropriate to acknowledge that Tiger’s still not fully there on the closing stretches of tournaments.

The intervening injuries and miserable play of the last five years obscured the fact that this was also mayyyybe kinda sort of a problem back in 2013 when he was healthy and generally playing well, as he did this week. It’s really been an issue throughout the post-hydrant era (Alan Shipnuck’s term), certainly at the majors.

Golf Channel’s postgame show, Live From The Open, heaped praise on how Tiger swung and looked on Sunday. But they also entered a few things into evidence to support the argument that he is still having trouble closing. Brandel Chamblee said he hit five or six fairways on every nine this week, until the final nine, when he hit just one. He’s also made a whole bunch of messes all season on the final 9 of 72 holes. There was that ball he pumped out-of-bounds at Bay Hill. And the water balls at The Players.

Here’s a graphic from the segment, which I think is worth watching for even the most ardent Tiger truthers.

This is not just to pour cold water on a great day. On balance, Tiger’s Open, and his entire season, is an amazing accomplishment. But once he had the solo lead and we got to the back nine, the charge went off the rails with a 3-over stretch in two holes. It’s worth acknowledging that recent history as you examine if and when and where Tiger can win again.

3. I am going to detour into the feelings zone so if it gets a little too treacly for you, feel free to hop off and meet us up at the next stop. I won’t be offended.

The odds are, you will never be able to do a thing as well as all of these pro golfers do their one thing. Some fly around the world in private jets. They make great money playing a game. It’s not a relatable existence. But most of them, even the richest and most talented, have a relatable tentacle of some sort.

Tiger Woods is not one. He’s been groomed in a bubble to be a golfer since he was a toddler. His social life was abnormal or nonexistent. Then he became the most famous athlete in the world and it became even more abnormal, and shielded. Tiger is an ultra-famous automaton that doesn’t seem relatable in any way.

My five-year-old is starting to watch pro golf, pick up some of the names, and get into it a little bit. He watched Sunday and when I put him to bed, he exclaimed, “Hey did you know Tiger Woods is a dad and a golfer?” He was so excited to tell me this and discover it on Sunday when he saw Tiger with his kids after the round.

Tiger-as-dad is the most relatable part of the 14-time major winner. In his post-round press conference, talking about his kids and putting on that Sunday show for them, was the most emotional I can recall seeing him since he won his last Open. That was 2006, his first major after his dad’s death, and he burst into tears on his caddie’s shoulder. At this press conference, he had to stop, his eyes got a little watery, he gulped multiple times, and he had to stop as he pushed out his thoughts.

“I told them I tried,” he said about meeting his kids on the 18th green. “I know that they know how much this championship means to me and how much it feels good to be back playing again. It’s so special to have them aware because I’ve won a lot of golf tournaments in my career but they don’t remember any of them. For them to understand, what I was doing early in my career, the only thing they’ve seen are my struggles.”

This is a variation of what Tim Rosaforte relayed before the round and what Tiger told us last November, when he said his kids have only known him as a “YouTube golfer.” Watching him get emotional about his kids was relatable. That stated reward of being able to show out for them feels genuine, and motivating.

4. We’re off the saccharine stuff and on to an important investigation that the R&A, and really the entire country of Scotland, must commence at once, if they haven’t already. Have we ferreted out who shouted from the corporate chalets in the middle of Tiger’s back swing on the 18th tee? We can track down anything with today’s technology. I’m assuming we can isolate at least which corporation had that specific chalet. My money would be on a little outfit out of Austria, Red Bull GmbH, and I’d expect nothing but the harshest sanctions.

5. Tiger keeps repeating that this year is a “gift” and a blessing. He said the thought of even playing in the British Open, let alone leading on a Sunday, seemed unlikely to him at the end of 2017, as he waited to see if he’d ever be able to take full golf swings again.

Golf was in a fine spot with so many young superstars. The game is as deep as its ever been. The Tiger era was an anomaly you can’t replicate. Those TV ratings are not coming back and it’s futile to try and force it with this next generation of stars. But the gift, for that next generation and us, is that we now have a competitive Tiger actually joining the battle in a real way.

With Tiger back playing well, some of the young stars are more candid about just how uncompetitive he was the last few years. Dustin Johnson, Rickie Fowler, and Justin Thomas, who played with him off-camera down in South Florida, have all hinted at it with some gentle “yeahhhhh it wasn’t very good” comments. They have said they wanted the “real” Tiger back on a leaderboard so they could face him.

Now they’re getting it. We had Jordan Spieth, Rory McIlroy, and Tiger Woods all on one leaderboard on Sunday. That is a gift, y’all. The younger players seem to know it, too. Jack Nicklaus would always talk about how he’d look at a leaderboard and only pick one or two players (and sometimes none) that really worried him and he felt he needed to beat. McIlroy said he now throws Tiger in with the DJs, Spieths, JTs et al as one of the real contenders he looks for on a leaderboard. Spieth was grinning as talked a discussion he had with his caddie as they looked up at the leaderboard and saw Tiger coming at them. That is very cool.

Those are two already Hall-of-Famers, 15 to 20 years younger than Tiger, relishing the experience of Sunday almost as much as the fans watching from home. Tiger coming back and being competitive in any context is an incredible story. The cross-generational battles it might yield, however, should not be an overlooked side effect. Players like Spieth and Rory make the Tiger comeback even more appealing, positioning him as this old man underdog,

We may never get Sunday at the Open again. That may be Tiger’s last, best chance at a major before some other injury creeps in or his game recedes or the younger players just run away from him. But it’s unlikely. It seems like we’re going to get Tiger in contention again with some consistency. Tiger has turned what a year ago felt like a fantasy — real, competitive golf, Sunday back nine major leads — into a feeling of inevitability. Whether he wins another major or not, in the context of this stage of his career, for that reason alone, he’s back.

[sunilbhavar]

Imitable minds...

Got a chance to meet 3 distinguished men from the past century via movies/ documentaries. British genius code breaker Alan Turing, American mathematician John Nash and US president Franklin Roosevelt.

3 Men quite exceptional in their individual lives and fields, yet all were flawed personalities. One had a flawed orientation, the other lived under delusions all his life and the most imp of them all, the US President, had an imperfect marriage and a crippled body for the most decisive part of his life.

Alan Turing broke the German code machine Enigma, which was of paramount importance during the course of WW2. His contribution, based out of the Bletcheley Park workplace in Britain not only helped reduce the war time by atleast 3 years but helped save countless lives. Yet, he was always cornered for his homosexual orientation and for him being not a team man and not being a friendly character. His feelings for his boyhood friend was made legacy by the code breaking machine, he made and named as - Christopher. Had known the name of Alan Turing, during my engineering days, but now got to appreciate his 'imitation game theory' which laid the foundation of future computing revolution to come.

John Nash, another genius of his era, a nobel awardee who got delusioned, fought mental disorder, trauma, social ostrscization and yet stuck to his only love - mathematics whole life long. A beautful mind and for that we owe a lot to him. Life can alter from physical, meta physical and delusional, but with a mind like that, imagination can spark reality.

FDR, the only President of the US who served for 4 consecutive terms remained wheelchair bound for a better part of his career. Such was his grasp over his people that they trusted his leadership throughout the most delicate phase of American History, i.e the economic depression of the 30s and then right through WW2 where he was instrumental to draft out a new world order. The United Nations was his idea as he wanted to carve out a free, self governing world free from old world imperialism and dictatorship.

Dec 7, 1941 a day in American infamy when Japan attacked Pearl Harbour and FDR used it to transform a nation of playboys into a hard working industrial nation. The result of which is evident today as the US is the sole global superpower even today.

Crippled by polio and an imperfect marriage, FDR always kept his personal life aside and never let that affect his duties as a President. He had his liasions with many ladies during his tenure, but one can pity with him as he had the toughest job on the planet at his time.

He had to try and make 2 poles meet as he tried to bring together capitalism and communism in his quest for a new world order. Formidable foes and allies, those were the days of giants amongst men. Hitler, Stalin, Mussolini, the Japanese emporer, Churchhill, all were equally competent to drive the world based on their fancies , yet it was FDR who sought and thought of a post war world and wanted a lasting peace.

Sadly, his frail heart and health caved in only a few days before Germany' eventual capitulation and he couldnt see the UN materialise. Ultimately his death achieved the bringing together of amunnatural allies and a cold war which thankfully never burst out into a nuclear flame.

Imperfect men, imperfect lives yet lasting legacies. It was their imaginations that fueled them to achieve a reality which was all but delusionary during their lifetimes.

Regards