#Which is admittedly an insane thing to say to your roommate you don’t know very well. But I have to speak my truth

[softly-and-suddenly]

What kind of mental health issue is it that makes you think about Moby-Dick all the time and how do I get medicated for it

#moby dick #My roommate was asking me about books yesterday and I said ‘Moby dick is one of my favorite books!’ #and he said ‘oh! I guess I should read it then!’ #and I said I Cannot Recommend This Book in Good Conscience. #Which is admittedly an insane thing to say to your roommate you don’t know very well. But I have to speak my truth

[haikyuu-scenarios-drabbles]

Shower Friends (Miya Atsumu x F!reader)

The dorm you live in has co-ed bathrooms. Why that’s remotely a good idea is beyond you; and recently, your precious shower time is being interrupted by a certain blonde haired setter for the volleyball team. When he lies to his teammates that he has a girlfriend, somehow you get roped into his scheme. 

genre(s): college!au, fake dating, angst, fluff, mutual pining, enemies to lovers (kinda), eventual smut (maybe) words: 3.8k

a/n: i got so carried away with this and i don’t even know if Atsumu is in character or not so please be gentle. chapter 2 coming tomorrow 🤗

taglist: @apollochjld @kurosarium @vicassa

Chapter One

All you want to do is shower in peace. It’s the reason why you wait until the dead of night to avoid any unwanted visitors. You don’t let yourself admit that another reason you wait until the entire floor is asleep is that you live in the building that has a co-ed bathroom. Why anyone decided that was a good idea is beyond you. Throwing a bunch of horny, drunk college kids in the same bathroom seems like a disaster to you, but that’s not really your problem.

Thank goodness they had the sense to put two doors in front of each of the showers. One complete door with a lock leading to a small space to dress and hang your towels before a much flimsier shower curtain. If it had just been the curtain you might’ve resorted to taking showers in one of your friend’s buildings that is not co-ed.

Though about five minutes into your shower in the silent bathroom, you hear the curtain of the stall next to you slide open and the shower turn on. Without thinking, you blurt, “Do you have to choose the one directly next to me?”

Atsumu jolts at your voice, forgetting he can’t just assume the other person in the bathroom is a guy. Muffled by his shirt being pulled over his head he retorts, “This one gets the hottest.” Honestly, he wasn’t expecting anyone else to be in here at this hour.

You nearly drop your shampoo at his voice, hyper-fixating on the fact that you’re practically standing naked directly next to this guy, the only thing separating you being the shower wall and the lock on the outer door. It’s just a few weeks into the semester and up until now you haven’t had a problem with someone showering right next to you, most people deciding to leave a stall between you, both of you doing your best to ignore the other. And definitely not speaking to each other.

Though, you suppose you were the one to speak first here when you could’ve kept your mouth shut and pretended like it didn’t bother you.

“Can’t you go one night without burning your skin off?” You say, knowing full well the stall next to you is like water from hell.

Atsumu can’t help smirking despite that you can’t see him. “Nope, already naked.” Something clatters on the other side of the wall and he stifles his laugh that you must’ve dropped something.

Snatching your dropped body wash, you angrily scrub yourself clean and decidedly do not think about the person next to you.

Thankfully, neither of you speak a word to the other for the remainder of your shower.

Though your stomach drops when you both turn the water off at the exact same moment.

“Please tell me you didn’t do that on purpose,” you groan, hurriedly grabbing your towel to wrap your cold body.

“Okay,” he says with a shrug. “I didn’t.” He knows that doesn’t sound very believable, but he’s pretty sure no matter what he said you wouldn’t accept it.

Scrubbing at your hair you try to keep your voice level. “I’m not leaving until you do.”

“Now it sounds like yer tryin’ to get a look at me.”

You ball your fists, resisting the urge to just storm out of the bathroom. Like an idiot, you’d assumed nobody would shower at this hour and all you have with you is your towel. Normally you bring a change of clothes with you, but of course the one night you don’t, you have a shower buddy.

The brooding silence emanating from your stall is enough for him to let out a small laugh, then conceding, “Alright, alright—I’m gone.”

“Thank you,” you breathe, feeling your growing anxiety about this entire situation melt away. At that, you hear his door unlock and the soft padding of his feet walking away. On his way out, he takes one last glance at the final stall where you’re still waiting, then blows a wet strand of his hair out of his face and heads out.

You wait a few minutes after his footsteps have faded then peek your head out of the stall to a blissfully empty bathroom. Letting out a deep sigh, you hold your towel tightly to your chest and scurry back to your dorm room knowing you’re going to go to sleep tonight thinking about the strange boy you met in the shower.

Hopefully you never have to deal with that again.

~

Of course, you’re very wrong. Not even a week later, you enter the bathroom only to ram directly into someone exiting. And this person is shirtless, their lean muscular frame on display for anyone to ogle at, a towel slung around his hips in just the right way that makes your heart pound without permission.

He catches you so you and all your bathroom supplies don’t tumble to the floor and you reflexively steady yourself with your palms on his chest before you realize what you’re doing. He smirks down at you, eyes glinting mischievously and drawling, “Ya know, I think you might’a done that on purpose.”

Immediately, your heart stutters to a halt in your chest recognizing that lilting, teasing voice. Pushing yourself off his chest and slipping into the bathroom behind him you snap, “You wish.”

Atsumu’s eyes widen, connecting the dots. Though the expression is transient, quickly settling back into a smirk that you think is even more irritating than before. “Takin’ a shower at this hour again, you sure yer not looking for me?”

You frown. “I take showers this late to avoid people!” Then you turn on your heel, done with this conversation and step into your favorite stall (which Atsumu astutely notices is the same one as last time). You take a quick and admittedly angry shower, doing a poor job of trying to forget your newfound annoyance.

Something about him is familiar. And you can’t put your finger on it. Not until you get back to your dorm room and your roommate is practically bouncing off the walls. You stare at her confusedly and she exclaims, “Did you see Miya Atsumu on your way to the bathroom? Oh my god—please tell me you did. He was wearing a towel and that’s it!” She squeals and tips back into her bed hugging a pillow tightly.

You don’t know why, but your initial reaction to realizing your shower nuisance is Miya Atsumu, is to laugh out loud. Your roommate gives you a startled expression until you say, “Yeah—yeah I saw him.” While she blabbers about how “insanely hot” he is, you shake your head at yourself. Miya Atsumu, the setter for the university’s volleyball team that lives on your floor and that your roommate is an avid fan of. He also has quite the gaggle of girls that are in love with him. Thankfully, your roommate isn’t so infatuated with him that she’s a member of the fan club but judging from her demeanor right now she’s well on her way there. You huff, admitting that yes—by looks alone he’s a head turner but you can’t imagine that personality being a winner amongst the club. Or maybe that’s his charm, you don’t know.

Though, after attending a volleyball game a week later, you’re certain his fan club is based on his looks alone. You have to keep yourself from snorting when he’s about to serve and raises his fist to silence the crowd, everyone complying except a few fan girls who cheer for him as he serves. Afterwards, he shouts at them from the court, telling them to ‘keep yer traps shut!’. They listen for the rest of the game and surprisingly, are no less in love with him then they were before.

What you find even more impressive than his ability to silence an entire crowd, though it pains you to admit, is that he’s good at volleyball. Really good. And your roommate seems to be the Atsumu fact machine as she tells you that he’s on Japan’s radar to play professionally and is here on a sports scholarship. She tells you she wouldn’t be surprised if he has to stop playing for the university in order to start playing professionally.

“How come you know so much about him?” You ask offhandedly, chin resting in your hand as your eyes are trained on the court below. You forced her to sit with you near the back of the stands in hopes he won’t see you because if you ever run in to him again in the bathroom you’re sure he’ll never let you hear the end of it.

She flushes at that, toying with a strand of her hair and mumbling, “Um, I went to Inarizaki High where he went and uh—kinda had a huge crush on his brother. He has a twin.”

You lift your brows at that information. No wonder she’s squealing over Atsumu, who probably looks exactly like his brother. You decide to prod a bit further asking, “So was the fan club just for Atsumu back then too?”

Now she laughs. “Nope, it was the Miya twin fan club. Terrifying really. Imagine that,” she nods her head towards the group at the front of the stands, “But double.”

“Fun.”

You haven’t told her about your run-ins with Atsumu in the bathroom yet. And part of you wonders if now would be a good time. You’d been holding off in fear that she was secretly in love with him or something, but now that you know it’s very much the opposite, you really want to tell her. As you open your mouth, the whistle blows calling the game, and you’re overwhelmed by the need to leave before the team lines up to thank the spectators in fear the Atsumu will recognize you. It’ll have to wait until later you suppose.

~

The second you hear someone enter the stall beside you, without even seeing him, you know it’s Atsumu. And for a few blessed moments, you’re led to believe he’s going to keep his mouth shut for the duration of his shower.

When Atsumu entered the bathroom, upon seeing that the last stall on the left was occupied at this hour, he could be pretty certain it was you. And who was he if he didn’t take the chance to push your buttons a little bit? You make it so easy for him, it’s hard to resist. Your hopes are crushed when you hear him say, “Enjoy the game last week?”

This time, you fumble with your shampoo not because he startled you but because of all the things he could have said, that was the last thing you were expecting.

“My roommate wanted to go,” you say, glad he can’t see you and your flustered expression. It’s the truth, and you’re definitely not going to admit you were a little curious yourself.

“Oh, did she?” He asks, brows raised as he lathers his hair with soap.

Judging by his tone, he doesn’t believe you. So, some part of you decides to dig your hole even deeper without realizing it, trying to explain, “She went to your high school, so she wanted to see you play again.”

You foolishly thought that would take the suspicion off of you. However, it does the opposite. Now he’s even more interested. “And what did she tell you about me, hm?”

You freeze, scrambling for something that doesn’t make you sound like he’s been on your mind. Though you convince yourself he’s only on your mind because he’s annoying and you try to avoid him every time you take a shower nowadays. “She told me your school was really good and that you have a twin brother.”

He frowns momentarily, unsure how Osamu somehow weaseled his way into this conversation when you’ve never even met him. Instead of letting that piece of rivalry he’ll carry with him forever show, he prods a little further, hoping to get a ruse out of you before you inevitably storm out of the bathroom and he has to wait until your next unplanned meeting to talk to you more. “And what’d ya think? How good am I?”

You laugh, shutting him down immediately. “I don’t know a damn thing about volleyball.”

Though you don’t think you really have to know much about volleyball to see he’s good. That notion backed up by the information your roommate gave you that he’s here on a sports scholarship and is being scouted by professional teams. But you keep your mouth shut, unwilling to boost his ego any further.

Turning the shower off, you step out and start drying yourself off. Not entirely sure why, but you continue the conversation much to Atsumu’s surprise. “I liked watching though, it was fun,” you say quietly, pulling your pajama’s on, regretting saying anything at all instantly and wanting to get out of there as soon as possible.

A grin rises to his lips, but before he can get another word in, he hears the door of your stall unlocking and the telltale sound of your footsteps walking away. Scrubbing at his hair, he can’t help wondering what this strange little relationship growing between the two of you is.

~

At this point, you’re beginning to think he’s doing it on purpose. You can’t imagine anyone else wanting to shower this late unless it is solely to come bother you like he seems intent on doing.

“What are you just waiting around for me now?” You groan at the sound of the bathroom door opening, not even waiting for him to enter the stall beside you, already certain you know exactly who it is.

He scoffs, “No, practice went late and I’m tired and sweaty. Maybe I think yer the one waitin’ around for me.”

“Gross.”

“That’s what the shower’s for, sweetheart.”  

“Let’s agree not to talk, shall we?” You huff, intent on ignoring him this time.

“Watch it, I might start to think you like me or somethin’,” He teases, but he’s only met with silence. He lets it go, too tired to care much or carry on a conversation anyways. After washing his hair, he grabs his body wash and realizes to his dismay that it’s completely empty. He can barely get a lather out of it. He stands there for a few minutes debating if he should bother you again, eventually deciding to hell with it.

Out of the blue, he says, “I’m out of body wash.”

“What do you want me to do about it?”

He ponders that for a minute, truly not sure what he expects you to do about it. “Can I borrow some?”

“You’re going to smell like a girl,” you laugh, actively shoving down the small voice saying: ‘and he’ll smell like you’.

Without thinking, he replies, “Well, maybe someone will think I’m fucking one then.”

The silence that yawns between the two of you is deafening as you try and wrap your head around what he’s just said. He balls his fists, mentally yelling at himself for letting something like that slip.

“You’re not?”

“Is that hope I hear?” He teases, shifting the conversation back to more comfortable territory.

You groan. “Please.” Then step out of the shower and reach under your door to slide your body wash under his door.

“Smells nice.”

“Shut up.”

He puts forth a valiant effort to not think about you while the pleasant scent fills his shower, forcing his thoughts towards volleyball. Different drills. The new play he learned today at practice. How the ball feels in his palm when he spikes it. Anything but you and this damn body wash that smells like you that he’s lathering across his chest at the moment.

In the end, it’s a pretty futile effort.

And maybe he goes to bed thinking about how he smells like you and he…likes it.

~

Unable to get a hold of his emotions, he refuses to go back to his dorm where he’ll be subjected to the same treatment from his roommate. After all, his roommate is on the volleyball team too. So, the only place he can think of to go to cool off is the bathroom. He haphazardly shoves the door open, the thought that someone else might be in here at this hour—namely you—is drowned out by the rage clouding his vision.

Retrospectively, that was a mistake. Honestly, shouldn’t he know by now?

Regardless, he storms in, yelling “Fuck!” his hands curling into his hair in frustration. Lately, the team has been relentless in their jabs that he can never get a real girlfriend, even with a whole group of them clambering over each other for his attention. And he only made the jabs worse today by somehow pissing off his fucking fan club making the entire team adamant he can never have a serious girlfriend. Not with how much of an ‘asshole’ he is.

He groans, tugging at his blonde strands, regretting everything that came after that. He’d done a stupid thing. A really stupid thing. He’d told them he does have a girlfriend.

And he very much does not.

Atsumu scares the shit out of you, barreling into the bathroom, roaring at the top his lungs in frustration. You were at the tail end of your shower, pulling on your pajamas and at the sound of his voice you banged your head on the towel hook with how fast it whipped up.

Furious, you rip open the stall door shout, “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

His head jerks up, landing on you standing there in your pajamas, caught off guard that someone else is in here and of course it’s you. Of all the people to see him like this, you are the absolute last he wants to see. You both stand there staring at each other for a moment before he composes himself, letting an easy smirk cross his features and shoving his anger far enough down that he’s able to reply, “Practice was shit today. Nothin’ to worry yer little heart about.”

His stomach twists into knots as your expression doesn’t change, clearly not believing him. You can’t explain it, but there’s something deeper swimming in his eyes that makes you think he’s lying. And it’s enough for you to press further, doing your best to ignore the fact that you might actually care.

Shoulders drooping, his smile fades and he grimaces, not wanting to admit to you his mistake. But you just stand there, arms crossed, expecting him to give you a real answer and eventually he cracks.

“I did something stupid.”

“Tell me why I’m not surprised,” you deadpan, but continue to stare at him expectantly.

“You could at least pretend to be surprised.”

You’re relentless. “Spit it out Atsumu.”

He blinks, unsure if you’ve ever actually addressed him by his name before. But the thought is fleeting as the embarrassment of what he’s about to admit to you overwhelms him. Knowing you, you’re just going to laugh in face. And what’s the point? He’ll just be solidifying what he’s sure you already think about him.

After a moment, he tells you anyways. “My teammates think I’m too much of an asshole to have a girlfriend.”

He watches your expression morph into confusion. “I don’t see the problem here.”

Gritting his teeth and gripping the edge of the sink, he can’t even bear to look at you. He feels so fucking ridiculous. Why do you even care? Your only interactions with him thus far have been laced with annoyance, why have you now suddenly decided to take interest in his life when you so clearly don’t like him?

“I told them I have one.”

He tries not to groan when you reply, “I’m still not following.”

Does he need to spell it out for you? “I don’t have one,” he manages to choke out, a lot quieter and more pathetic than he’d like.

If this had been the first time meeting him, you might’ve laughed. Hell—you still kind of want to laugh. But seeing him like this is so jarring, you aren’t quite sure what to do with yourself. It’s clear this is something that bothers him deeper than he’s admitting. And a couple weeks ago, you would’ve never thought you’d be standing in a deserted bathroom with Miya Atsumu discussing the failures of his dating life.

“Why don’t you just ask one of the girls dying for your attention?” You ask, feeling a little grimy about the suggestion.

He seems to feel the same. “I don’t…it doesn’t feel right. They’d think it’s real.”

You keep it to yourself that despite what his teammates have said, that is a very non-asshole-ish thing to do.

He keeps staring at you, gears turning his head. Asking someone in his fan club feels wrong to him…but asking someone to fake it seems like a better option. And who better than the person standing in front of him right now? But you can see exactly what he’s thinking, beating him to it and crossing your arms saying pointedly, “No.”

“Aww come on! Why not?”

“Don’t you think that isn’t fair to me?”

He ponders this a moment. “What—you got yer eyes set on someone else or somethin’?”

“N—no! I just,” you splutter.

He has to hook you, otherwise he’s thoroughly fucked. The thought of enduring the brunt of his teammates teasing for who knows how long if he shows up tomorrow empty handed is enough to make him offer, “I promise to stop taking showers at night!”

Your brows lift, turning the idea over in your head. The prospect of taking quiet, uninterrupted showers is too good to pass up. And it isn’t the end of the world to pretend to date him for a few weeks. What could possibly go wrong?

So, with that, the deal is sealed. You and Atsumu are officially fake dating and your story is not far from the truth. You met in the bathroom a couple times and hit it off, it’s believable enough. Your roommate might be a bit chuffed you kept it from her, but she’ll get over it. Probably the second you divulge her in any insider information about Atsumu she’ll forget you were hiding him from her.

He tells you to meet him at the gym tomorrow afternoon. “Wear somethin’ cute!” He shouts at you as you exit the bathroom.

Over your shoulder, you give him a look that unexpectedly makes his heart stutter in his chest as you cheekily say, “Shouldn’t my boyfriend think I look cute in anything?” Then you disappear around the corner and he has to shove the thought that you do look cute in your pajamas to the back of his head.

#miya atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #atsumu x reader #haikyuu reader insert #miya atsumu #miya atsumu imagine #miya atsumu scenario #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu scenario #miya atsumu reader insert #haikyuu

[blackkwidowed]

a squabble over coffee

Requested: can you do one where Nat and R are bestfriends R gives Nat a massage and might’ve moaned, and moaned again but with R’s name

Summary: Natasha had a rough mission and could do with relaxing. Reader has a coffee addiction. Kind of. 

Rating: E. Smut. Lots of smut. Filth. Teasing. The whole works. Sub!Nat because I can’t control myself. 18+

Word Count: 2,861

I’ve written a lot of smut over the years for many fandoms on many platforms, and other tumblr blogs. This might be the winner. This is the most erotic thing I have ever written. Enjoy.

oh my god they were roommates 

принцесса = princess

“Oh my God.” 

Natasha looks physically exhausted when she finally falls through the door, already past midnight. 

You take a glance at Natasha, eyes straying from the book on your lap briefly. “Well you look like you’ve been dug up.” 

She rolls her eyes at you, giving you the finger and placing her bag on the floor by the counter. “Nice to see you too.” 

She pauses, eyes you up and down with a look of confusion before settling on the mug in your hand. You raise an eyebrow. “Problem?”

“Are you drinking black coffee at midnight?”

“It’s quarantine, of course I am. I don’t sleep. Why else would I look like complete shit right now?”

She smirks at you, settling next to you on the couch. “Doesn’t take a lack of sleep for you to look like shit, Y/N.” 

You forget the book, shutting it and placing it on the coffee table in front of you before punching Natasha lightly on the arm. “Bitch.” 

She winks. 

This was normal bickering for the two of you. As a best friend and a roommate, she was perhaps the only person who’s company doesn’t sicken you after too much time spent together. 

She’d been out on some kind of mission for a few days which was apparently heavy on the physical side by the obvious strain and tension to Natasha’s muscles. 

She rests her head on your shoulder and breathes deeply, sighing at the bliss of the soft cushions against her back. She reaches for the mug in your hand, bringing it to her own lips to take a gulp. 

Natasha makes a beautiful hum, one that makes you think of things you definitely shouldn't be. 

“I haven't had coffee in like, four days.”

“Yeah, well get your own next time.” 

“Give me a massage then.” 

“Excuse me?”

“I’ll stop stealing your coffee when you give me a massage. It’s a fair deal.” She shrugs. “Come on, you know you wanna get your hands on this.” 

Natasha leans toward you with an unceremonious wiggle of her chest in your direction. You laugh, shaking your head. You take the coffee from her hand, swallowing the last of it and placing the cup on the table. 

“Fine,” you wet your lip. “Turn over. And take your shirt off.” 

Natasha grins in triumph. “Yes, ma’am.”

You’re braver, for whatever reason. Natasha is gorgeous, you’ve never hidden that thought from her. She’s all soft skin and taut muscle and is absolutely beautiful. Your eyes scan her back, her arms, the back of her neck peeking out from where she’s moved her hair out of your way. 

Natasha lays on her stomach on the sofa, shirt discarded, lay in just a black sports bra and very, very thin pants. They’re definitely urging your imagination to run wild. 

You hesitate briefly, hovering over her. You’re debating just how to let this blow over. You could stay where you are, but lean a little so your arms can reach the tops of her shoulders. You can have as minimal contact as possible with her, or. 

Or you could really push it. 

Your body reacts before you even mentally make a decision. 

You settle over her lower back, straddling her comfortably. You don't miss her sigh, and you’re almost one hundred percent sure it’s a positive noise. You take a chance, slipping your fingers up her back and over the bottom of her bra. 

“You should take this off too.” 

You don’t miss her shiver at your words, either. 

She looks back then, craning her neck around just enough to make eye contact with you. “Are you asking me or telling me?” 

You sink your teeth into your lower lip. “I’m telling you. If that’s okay.” 

Natasha doesn't give you a verbal answer. Instead, she manoeuvres her body to pull the sports bra over her head, laying back down against the couch cushions. 

Your hands find her shoulders, and you begin. 

She’s tense, truly. You could see it the second she got home, but feeling her muscles ache under your hands was the icing on the cake, if you will. It was clear she was in pain, even just a little bit. 

“Have you given massages before?” She asks, voice low. 

“Once or twice, maybe. Why?” 

“Your hands just feel really nice.” She turns back to glance at you, and you throw her a wink before she presses her face against the cushions again.

“Thanks, darlin,” you drawl. “Plenty more to come.” 

“I hope so.” It comes as a whisper, and you barely hide a smirk. 

Your palm presses firm against her back, her skin growing hotter the longer you keep up your movements. There’s a soft groan, you barely hear it, from Natasha’s throat. She definitely tried to hide it from you, but you’re not stupid. And Natasha knows it. 

“Sorry,” she mumbles, cheeks flushing a little.

“Don’t be.” You shake your head. “Good to know it’s working.”

“Mmhmm, oh it’s definitely working.” 

Underneath you, you feel a very slight buck of her hips against the couch. It’s your turn to flush red this time, because that certainly did not go unnoticed by either of you. 

You clear your throat, continuing the ministrations against her muscles, moving further down her back. You say nothing, and the only noise that comes from Natasha is an elated, relieved sigh. You can feel her relaxing underneath you, she’s calming. Less tense. Her skin is just really, really hot and soft and it’s driving you insane. 

You relieve the pressure of your palms, instead tracing your fingers across the skin of her lower back. Your touch is electric, she’s shivering below you every so often. Jesus. This is certainly not what you expected to happen tonight. 

You lift yourself up, removing yourself from your position straddling her to massage where you were just sitting. 

You place a hand on the outside of her thigh, your touch light and subtle, but Nat’ll be damned if it didn't set her on fire, virtually. “Spread your legs for a sec, just wanna do your lower back.” 

Natasha breathes a sigh, moving one leg to let you settle on your knees between her thighs. 

The thoughts that hit you are unexpected, too. They’re filthy, downright sinful, you can’t believe you’re even allowing yourself to think about it. 

God, you never thought you’d be sat between the Black Widow’s spread legs and you’re pleasantly surprised to find yourself in that exact position. You balance yourself with your hands on the back of her upper thighs, under her ass that you’ve definitely taken a couple of glances at already, admittedly. 

Your touch burns Natasha through her leggings, it’s red hot heat, your hands on her feel too fucking good, it’s too much and not enough all at once. 

You adjust your knee, and the way it brushes between her legs is actually a complete accident, and you’re about to panic and apologise because you really didn’t mean to be so forward, but she doesn't give you a chance to. 

“Christ, Y/N.” It leaves her lips as a clear, definite moan, a soft little whimper that has you drowning in a wave of arousal already. Something about the way your name just fell from her lips, so much different to how you normally hear her say it, makes you almost uncomfortably wet. 

“Fuck, I didn't mean to-”

“Stop it,” she manages, teeth gritted as she inhales sharply. 

You go to move off the couch, frightened your slip up went too far, but her hand moves quick, reaching around to grasp at your wrist. 

“No, I mean stop dancing around and hesitating and teasing me.” 

You fall back into position, your knee no longer pressing between her legs, but it’s damn well close. Your hands find the back of her thighs again, and your fingers linger there this time, trailing soft and light over her skin. 

You release a breath of relief, and you snap back into action. 

“If you think this is me teasing you, you’ve seen nothing yet.” 

She looks back at you one more time. Her eyes are dark this time, incredibly so. They’re filled with obvious lust, and your body tingles at the way she’s looking at you. “So show me.” 

The expression on your face is confirmation for her, and she goes to turn over, until your hand moves up her thigh to halt her. “No, stay on your stomach. But take your pants off.” 

She smirks. “Oh, now we’re talkin’.”

She stands from the couch and faces you, pulling her leggings down slowly while giving you a wink. It’s erotic, her gaze. You can’t believe how quickly it’s making you lose it. 

You’re met with black, lace panties as she kicks her pants off. That’s it. Christ. 

Her thumbs hook around each side of the waistband of her panties, and you can see she’s about to rid herself of them, too. You shake your head at her. “Not so fast. Leave those on.”

You scan her body, drawing her in under a ravenous stare. You pat the couch in front of where you still kneel, admiring her. “Come here.”

She returns to the same position as before, letting you rest between her spread legs while she lays on her front. Your fingers trail back over to her lower back, where you weren't quite finished with massaging yet. Your touch is different now, it’s still electric and it’s still fiery warm but it’s different somehow. It’s almost as if your hands had a mind of their own, and they were in I’m going to fuck Natasha mode, to be crude. 

You continue on her lower back, slipping down ever so slightly, caressing the skin under your fingertips. Eventually you reach the very bottom of her back, where it dips and meets that perfect, taut and beautiful curve of her ass in those panties. 

You’re starting to feel yourself heat up significantly now, on the verge of light sweat because of how intense the moment is. It’s quiet, all that can be heard is Natasha’s breathing getting a little more ragged as you continue to tease her. 

You palm and squeeze gently at her ass a little, before passing it and running your fingers over the very top of her thighs. She shivers, and you slow your movements. 

“Relax, Nat.” You whisper, loud enough for her to just about hear you. Your voice has dropped a little, it’s lower, filled with arousal. Natasha finds it undeniably sexy. 

Your fingers continue to dance over her thighs for too long for Natasha’s liking. Her inner thighs seem to be the thing that’s making her seriously weak, so you milk it. You can’t wait to sink your teeth into them, marking them and no she probably wouldn't let you do that. But maybe she will, and that’s exciting enough for now. 

By the time you’ve decided you’ve finished with her thighs, she’s almost shaking. Her breathing is heavy now, thick with lust. You need to hear more soon. 

Your fingers brush the lining of her panties, tracing it around that curve of her ass and down, right where you know she needs you to be, but can’t manage the words to actually say it. 

She whimpers quietly when your fingers caress over her cunt. 

“You’re dripping, Natalia,” you husk. You press your fingers against her panties over her clit, applying just a little bit of pressure, and she bucks her hips. “Anything you want to tell me?”

Natasha licks over her bottom lip. “You’re the one that’s been oblivious this whole time.” 

You grin, because that’s your confirmation that what you’ve been feeling towards Natasha isn’t completely ridiculous. 

“Maybe, but you’ve missed my flirting, too.”

She smirks. “I just wanted you to get braver. I was always fully aware.” 

“That’s not very nice,” you mutter. Your fingers press harder against her clit and she groans. “Taking advantage of my attraction to you.” 

“Well,” she rasps. “Plenty more of that to come.”

You click your tongue, licking your lip. 

You slip her panties to one side, letting your fingers slip through her folds. She really is very fucking wet. It’s delicious. 

“You’re a brat,” you mumble. “God, you’re fucking soaked.”

“As I said,” she breathes a moan, your fingers slipping to tease, threatening to dip inside her. “You’re not the only one who’s been thinking about this.” 

You circle her entrance, and slip one finger inside her slowly. She gasps, almost choking on her own words. 

“Tell me exactly what you’ve been thinking about,” you order. 

“This, exactly this.” She purrs. 

You add another finger and push into her warmth, curling your fingers, dexterous and everything Natasha’s been craving. Your thumb reaches and you circle her clit, relishing in the long, loud moan you’re granted. 

Natasha cries out as you hit that exquisite spot inside her, the one that makes her want to scream while she touches herself in the privacy of her own bedroom to the thought of you. She’s even dreamed of it being your fingers instead of her own buried inside her, and though they left her breathless they were still nothing like the real thing. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” she presses into the couch below her, her hips bucking. “Don’t you dare stop.”

You laugh softly. “I don’t plan to, принцесса.” 

You drive your fingers deeper, using a little bit more force with added pressure to the circling of her clit. 

“I’ve been thinking for too long about how badly I’ve wanted to make you moan my name.” You lean over her, fingers still working perfectly between her legs. You press your lips to the back of her shoulder, the flesh hot, a little salty from the shiny sweat covering her body. “There’s no way I’m stopping.”

Her hips are moving more now, sharper and more erratic movements, and her moans are getting louder, progressively so. She’s close. You can feel it. She’s tightening around your fingers, her clit throbs under your thumb and God help those cushions that she is digging her fingers into for something to hold onto. She’s going to come by your hands, and for a second you’re ready to pinch yourself and wake up from a really really good dream, but the way she moans your name again is definitely real. 

“Fuck, I’m going to come,” she whimpers softly. “I’m gonna come so fucking hard.”

You sink your teeth into the side of her neck, sucking a dark purple bruise into the flesh. Natasha’s moaning loud, breathing rapidly as her cunt tightens around your fingers, virtually trapping you inside her as she comes with a scream of your name. 

You kneel back between her legs, one hand still at the apex of her thighs and the other resting on her shaking leg, tracing and soothing as she relaxes from what sounded like a very intense orgasm. 

She sighs, a gentle laugh falling from her lips. “Finally.” 

You roll your eyes. “Shut it.”

You pull your fingers out from inside her with a final, quiet gasp. You bring them to your mouth, looking her right in the eye when she flips on her back to face you, watching you slip your fingers into your mouth to taste her. 

You lick your lips after, and wink at her. You lean over, hovering on top of her and resting a thumb lightly on her cheek, brushing it. “You taste delicious.”

She grins, biting at her bottom lip. 

You lean down, your lips against her ear and your breath hot. “But now, I think I want a real taste.” 

She cranes her neck back at your words with a subtle groan. She lifts her arms to rest around your shoulders, wrapping loosely around your neck to sink her fingers into your hair, cupping the base of your skull. “I’d really like that.” 

You grin. 

“But first, I’m going to kiss you.” She states. 

Her eyes slide closed and her mouth finds yours and it’s everything. Natasha is a magnificent kisser, you discover. Her lips are soft and plump and they mould perfectly against your own. Her teeth sink gently into your bottom lip, and she licks into your mouth, sliding her tongue along yours as you groan against her. Your thigh slips between her legs as she gasps, pulling away to breathe. 

You tilt your forehead against hers, a dirty smile on your face. She copies it unintentionally, tugging at your hair lightly and leaning in to kiss you again. 

“Y’know,” she begins. “You could have just made me a coffee to solve the situation.”

You laugh against her lips, moving to press softer kisses down her neck. 

“Yeah, well,” you murmur. “You said it yourself. Why would I ever waste an opportunity to get my hands on you?”

“That’s what I like to hear.” 

Your lips trail down her body, over her stomach. Your fingers slip into the waistband of her panties, and you press a kiss to the inside of her thigh. “And what I like to hear, are those pretty moans of yours.”

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff smut #natalia romanova #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow imagine #marvel #marvel imagine #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #tag: smut

[cdyssey]

Need

Summary: After Nick arrives at the beach house, Frankie escapes to her studio to process her emotions. Post 7x04.

A/N: I've had such Grace and Frankie brain rot these past few days that I figured I should put it to good use and write another fic. It was really fascinating to try Frankie's POV. Lily Tomlin imbues her with a lot of subtle pathos that I totally wish the show would explicitly explore more.

AO3 Link

—

Frankie excuses herself to the studio for dinner, so she can process her very big, astonishingly inappropriate, and entirely overwhelming emotions without resorting to calling Nick a “wavy-haired, Pierce Brosnan wannabe douche canoe.” 

As delightful (and totally true) of a turn a phrase that it is, even she knows that saying it aloud would be trespassing a boundary that she’s sworn herself never to cross: Grace is married.

Unhappily married, maybe. 

Complicatedly married at the very least.

But until the day that they mutually say “I do” to divorce papers, there isn’t enough room for three people in the Skolka marriage, however much that Grace—bless her increasingly unthawing heart—tries to ensure otherwise. 

So Frankie lets the newly reunited couple have their dinner alone under the guise of a generosity that she doesn’t exactly feel, and she takes leftover pasta into her studio to moodily pick around the bowl until her fettuccine looks less like fettuccine and more like unevenly perforated confetti.

(Woo fucking hoo.)

After a few minutes of this aggressively unconstructive practice, she places her nearly full bowl on a nearby work table and stretches out across her paint-stained couch, staring at the ceiling and resisting the reactionary urge to light a joint. Mary J might help her feel better for the present moment, but tomorrow morning, she’d still wake up and feel invaded in her own home.

Paradoxically, she’d also feel alone, goddammit.

She pulls her shawl more tightly around her shoulders against an invisible and piercing chill.

Frankie hates feeling lonely.

She spiraled when Grace lived in the penthouse. She nearly self-destructed to fill the gaping void that her roommate, her friend, her practical and beloved soulmate left behind. There was a period where she didn’t wash her clothes and ate a lot of admittedly non-vegan takeout. There were nights when she’d lay awake in her awfully huge bed, staring at the empty space where Sol used to sleep, and have the familiar waking nightmare of spending her final years in forced solitude. She was happy with Jack, and then Jacob—sweet Jacob—came around too, and she did something she still feels fucking ashamed about: she hurt both of them, and she lied when she said that she had just wanted to have some fun.

She knows herself.

Intimately.

She‘d been scared of being alone again, so she tried to hold on to two people who were helping her to stave the awful feeling away. Those men wanted her, and Frankie used them. They wanted her, and she pathologically loves to feel wanted because she sometimes and irrationally fears that she might not be needed.

To be fair to her irrational fears, all the people she’s ever needed and felt needed by have hurt her before.

Sol cheated on her for twenty years.

Her own sons stuck her in a nursing home.

Grace just fucking left her.

She eloped in Vegas like a blushing twenty-one year old bride and just disappeared.

She says it was a mistake; she sat across Frankie in a sunlit restaurant and candidly told her that she didn’t like the person she had become when she married Nick.

And to be completely fair to her, Grace has been adamant about not wanting to leave again—so perhaps she never will—but if her husband is here to stay, it's also a distinct possibility that she’ll never have to make the choice to physically leave to… well… leave.

She can perpetually honeymoon with Nick and still call Frankie home. 

It could be a happy ending for Grace… and a fresh new hell for Frankie, who'd just started to feel secure again.

God knows she wants her best friend to be happy, but the big man in the sky must also surely understand that she had hoped that she alone could be enough for Grace, that this unconventional life spent together in the beach house—so crazy, so weird, and so inextricably entangled—would be their shared happily ever after.

But even as she thinks it, the vestiges of her clearly misplaced optimism begin to evade her, dregs now at the bottom of an already drained cup.

She and Grace aren't married.

It’s always been an objective fact.

Tonight, it feels more like an unpleasant reality.

When the door leading into her studio suddenly flies open, Frankie barely has enough time to swipe the back of her hand across her eyes before she sits up to find none other than the lady of the hour.

Her collared shirt popped up stiffly around her neck, a martini glass surgically glued to her right hand, Grace looks quintessentially herself as she walks in, even down to the minutiae of her trademark I'm-angry-at-the-world-and-everyone-in-it expression—brow furrowed and eyes Medusa cold. After all but slamming the door, she stalks over within a few clicks of her practical but unmistakably high heels.

“Well, hello to you, too, Sunshine,” Frankie greets wryly, hoping to hell and back that her face isn’t as red as it feels. 

It’s a tall order, though.

Alas, she was gifted (or equally cursed) with an exceptionally expressive face.

“Frankie, this is nonsense,” Grace says bluntly, using her martini glass like a pointer and leveling it straight at her head. “Come back to the house—your house—and have dinner with us.”

It’s the authoritarian nature of the demand that rifles Frankie.

Frankly, it pisses her off.

She’s always been a rebel contrarian.

“And by us, you mean you and your house arrested husband, right?” She returns evenly. She betrays herself by raising a single and devastatingly skeptical brow. “The man with whom you should be having a very emotionally honest conversation with right now about the parameters of your jacked up relationship?”

Grace shifts her weight from heel to heel and glances away a little too quickly for the gesture to be entirely natural. Frankie had blatantly stricken a pulsing nerve, and the guilt of doing so immediately swallows her. 

She shouldn’t be so hard on her friend.

(She doesn’t know why it’s permissible to be equally hard on herself.)

“Well, I tried to have that conversation, thank you very much, but then I ended up wanting to claw Nick’s eyes out.” The obvious follow up question must shine in Frankie’s face because sighing infinitesimally through her nostrils, Grace adds, “His attorney argued that my advanced age and apparent capability to croak at any moment were reasons enough to grant Nick leniency. They let him out so he could take care of me—whatever the hell that means.”

Her no-nonsense voice never falters as she delivers the brutal words, but her eyes undermine her, seething with emotion, simply roiling. They tell a story of horror and disgust and searing, absolute betrayal; they’re heavy all over with sadness and the indelicate trappings of all her raw and mercilessly exposed fears. 

Frankie understands immediately.

Nick used one of Grace’s deepest insecurities as a get-out-of-jail-free card.

Being eighty-two years old.

But perhaps more accurately, feeling like it.

“Oh, honey,” Frankie melts. She can do nothing else but melt, to be suddenly overcome with fierce, protective, and terrifying love for the woman in front of her. “That fucking bastard.”

Grace immediately laughs, the sound hoarse and watery and a little unhinged all at the exact same time.

“Tell me about it,” she half-smiles and takes the swearing as a rightful invitation to join Frankie on the couch. With a gentle clink, she sets her half-emptied martini glass on the table next to Frankie’s completely full pasta bowl. “I said the exact same thing.”

When she chooses to sit close enough that their shoulders are brushing, Frankie intuitively knows that this is petty defiance against Nick for daring to intrude upon them and the world they've so carefully created together.

She temples Grace’s nearest hand with her own in an attempt to silently communicate that this right here—whatever this is between them—is love.

“So, please”—Grace squeezes her hand back—“please don’t be angry with me… I… I didn’t want this. You know I didn’t want this. I don’t want him to even be here.”

Frankie stares openly at her best friend.

Wide-eyed and hopeful against her self-loathing, self-centered will, she searches her broken face like it's revelatory.

It's stunningly rare that Grace Hanson ever articulates her wants so clearly. Forty years of an emotionally repressive marriage did their number and toll on her. She pedestalized rigid decorum over every conscious desire. 

She played by the rules even if they hurt her.

And drank herself to oblivion on many a night to forget the very fact that she was hurt.

To deny herself the honesty she’d somehow convinced herself that she didn’t deserve.

“… you know this is your husband we’re talking about here, right?” It’s a rhetorical question. Frankie's pretty sure that they both fucking know that it’s insane that this conversation—that this entire situation as a whole—is happening. 

“I know,” Grace replies firmly. “Believe me, I'm well aware. But you’re… you’re my partner, Frankie, and if I can’t be upfront with you, then I don’t know who else I can turn to.”

The very word partner sends shivers down her spine, and the shivers collect like butterflies in her already churning belly.

It’s just a word, she tells herself. 

She scolds.

Grace doesn’t mean anything by it.

It's a label, and Grace doesn't do labels anymore.

“I... I wasn’t mad at you, Grace,” she finally admits. It's easier to do than questioning the extent to which her roommate would give up the world for her, but all the same, her voice is frighteningly weak, a pale imitation of everything Frankie usually projects herself to be: confident, cheerful, unshakeable, unshaken. Suddenly, it hits her that it’s been a very long time since she’s been so openly vulnerable, too. “I'm not even really all that mad at your jailbird husband either. I was just scared, and when I get scared, I skitter like a nervous little bug."

She shuts down.

She spirals.

She tries to put a smile on her face for the people who love her all the same.

And then she lies awake at night, drowning in the sheets of an empty bed.

Thinking about how she should probably tell someone that everything hurts.

But she’s Frankie, and she doesn’t do that.

Grace perpetually convinces herself that she doesn’t deserve honesty; Frankie has come to fear that no one wants her own.

“Were you scared of me?” Grace asks quietly, her grip so tight now that it almost stings.

“Frankie…” She presses when a few heartbeats of silence stagger by, limping painfully on all fours, pronouncing so many unspoken and profound hurts. 

“Of losing you, Grace,” she confesses, the words defeated and scraped raw. She forcefully tugs her hand away from Grace's just to temple her own hands together on her lap, to lick her sundry and shining wounds in a private corner. “I was scared of losing you, of being alone again in this big, empty house… and I don’t like being alone.”

She can’t bear to look at Grace as she says it, staring at the paint-flecked floor without ever really seeing it, her eyes burning.

She wishes they’d stop burning but feels the precise moment when they begin to leak anyway.

It’s all so embarrassing.

And childish.

Frankie is an eighty-year old woman, and she shouldn’t be upset over her best friend having a goddamn life.

She should be happy for her, fucking ecstatic.

And yet, she's—

But before she can complete the miserable thought, her body becomes aware of another sensation entirely—warm arms enveloping her from the side and inexorably pulling her in, turning the space that once existed between two bodies—between them—intangible, negligible.

Grace.

Shock turns into realization, and realization transforms into aching, sweeping relief.

It can only be Grace.

Grace’s soft lips pressed to her cheek.

Grace’s fingertips curling into the fabric of her dress.

Grace’s nose against her neck as she slides her sharp chin across her shoulder.

“I’m not leaving you, Frances Bergstein,” she declares. “Whatever happens between me and Nick, in the end, it’s going to be just you and me in this house that is our damn home. I swear that to you. I’d tell you every day just to prove it to you.”

Oh, these words.

These beautiful, tender, and long-needed-to-hear words.

They’re just words, she could tell herself again.

She could lie.

She could convince herself if she had to.

She could conveniently forget that Grace Hanson uses language carefully, that she employs every sentence with scalpel-like precision.

Or... more complicatedly still... Frankie could believe her.

Frankie could blindly accept these words for what they are, as manifest confirmation that she is loved by another—prioritized and cared for and needed.

She could be Grace’s partner and let that incredible word be electrically charged with so many complex and ridiculous and extraordinary ideas, none of which are traditional, and all of which feel true.

She could believe in her even if belief is not simple, even if belief is a product, first and foremost, of trust.

And Grace has certainly lost her trust before, but goddammit, she's earned it so many times, too.

“Oh, God,” Frankie laughs in such a way that it’s stupidly clear that she’s crying as Grace rubs slow circles into her back with her thumb. “This is all messed up. You’re the one with a house arrested, tax evading husband. I should be the one comforting you.”

“The house arrested, tax evading husband doesn’t particularly faze me,” Grace chuckles, her voice low. “Seeing you hurting and upset does. My priorities are remarkably straight.”

“I’m not sure you know the meaning of that word,” she smiles weakly as they slowly and clumsily begin to extricate themselves from their tangled embrace. 

It’s hard to find themselves again.

To be apart.

“But I do,” Grace protests, emphatic and indignant and maybe even a few shades righteously pissed. “You’re the person I wanna share this crazy life with at the end of the day and every day. Why is that so hard to believe?”

“Because every day is an incredibly long time to be with me,” Frankie offers meekly, giving her one more perfect and easily acceptable copout, a neatly packaged excuse. 

She can be too much.

She knows this.

“It’s just the right amount of time to be with you,” Grace murmurs, reaching up to brush an errant tear away from Frankie’s cheek, her thumb lingering, her quivering palm. “You’re kind enough to love me, and I’m lucky enough to be loved by you... so let me return the favor, Frankie. Let me be here for you."

And to Grace’s credit in this fleeting moment, she continues to hold Frankie.

It's a promise to never let her go.

#grace and frankie #grace hanson #frankie bergstein #grace x frankie #grace and frankie spoilers #reginianwrites #s: grace and frankie

[dented-nado]

Well since you specifically asked: Twiddler

“Yah I like Eddie but he’s straight // BAD LUCK, HUH?”

“No he’s not”

“NO IM NOT??”

Shenanigans

I’m dying right now, the ol’ Harv(ey) stubbornly thinks that Edward fucking Nygma is s  t r a  I g ht love it.  Still one of my fave convos we’ve ever had.

==================

Eddie’s POV

 =====================

It had been about a year since he had joined the sort of halfway home that Bruce Wayne had opened up for Ex-Rogues. However Eddie was somewhat convinced the billionaire he now realized had been Batman the whole time (pfft, he totally could have figured that out… he just… hadn’t…) rather liked having he, Harley, and Harv(ey) as a sort of odd band of roommates. And well… a literal mansion wasn’t a bad place to stay in by any stretch of the imagination.

He certainly had expected (and been quietly and not so quietly jealous) that because Harv(ey) and Bruce had apparently been close as far back as when they were children, Wayne would certainly be ecstatic to have Two-Face hanging around. He still was a little bit taken a back that well… anyone would want him around.

But he really was trying to reform. Maybe part of it was because the routine had gotten boring and he’d started finding more quiet and less destructive games and puzzles more entertaining these days. Besides, he realized he could have more fun with such things when he wasn’t being hauled back to Arkham because he’d taken things a little too far so often.

That being said, he had a new focus, a new goal.

And that was the previously mentioned Harv(ey) Dent. The giant, the absolute unit that towered over him.

Two souls for the price of one. Harvey was quietly intelligent (though sometimes a little bit delightfully oblivious), kind, and soft. Then Harv, he was bold, had a wonderfully fun fashion sense, and had a gravelly voice that admittedly caused Eddie’s mind to pull a blank at times.

They were a man that could have half their face burned to a crisp with acid and still be the only man that had been in Arkham (in Edward’s opinion) that could really get it.

He still remembered the first time “two-face” had been escorted into Arkham, the sight of them had knocked the wind right out of him, completely stopped his plotting for his next attempt to outsmart Batman.

Sure, perhaps he had heard and sort of seen images of Harvey Dent, the famous distract attorney that had been nicknamed Gotham’s “white knight” on the tiny, crappy TV they were occasionally allowed to watch when they were let out of their cells. But that never did him justice.

Seeing him here? Up close?

What a man. A handsome man, carved by angels and blessed by the devil

Now if only he could get Harv(ey) Dent to notice him.

Since that day he’d tried time and time again under the hope that maybe just maybe… this giant of a man would consider a relationship of sorts.

He tried to impress them with his vast intellect, sitting close to him and going off about any fact or subject he happened to know. He then tried to drill Harvey about his knowledge as a lawyer (which he thought also might just be interesting to know). They were certainly a good listener… and Harvey warmed up to talking about legal jargon and the pains of law school with Eddie eventually.

He was able to talk to Harv about their mutual love of fun patterns and bright colors and agreed that anyone who dissed it just didn’t understand fashion. He also realized soon that Harv loved to talk when he was acknowledged, and Eddie was more than happy to encourage him to and lightly swoon at that voice.

However, they were still only on a ‘good pals’ basis.

Which maybe Eddie could have accepted, except he caught Harvey staring at him at times, smiling slightly whenever Eddie would talk about what interested him. And Harv, he had gotten Harv to laugh a few times.

There was something there, he knew it, but for some reason he couldn’t puzzle out, Dent wasn’t acting on it.

It continued to this day. Harley had suggested to Edward he simply outright tell Harv(ey) Dent he was interested in them. But that wasn’t fun or interesting, and certainly not as romantic as Eddie would like.

So, after years of frustration now, he decided he’d go to the one person who had known Harv(ey) Dent their whole life for advice.

 ============

Bruce’s POV

============

“So, that’s my dilemma.”  Edward finished, pushing up his glasses in a very matter-of-fact way.

Bruce sighed. The only person who had ever rivaled his own stubbornness and… stupidity when it came to others having an romantic interest in them, was in fact Harv(ey) Dent. This would no doubt be difficult.

He wasn’t even sure how he managed to get into a relationship with Clark and Diana, so he wasn’t sure how much of a help he’d be trying to get Harv(ey) and Eddie to pair up.

“I’m decently sure he’s interested in you.” He replied.

“I’m quite sure too, however nothing I do seems to get them to do anything.” Eddie expressed, looking completely exasperated.

“hrrn....” Bruce grumbled thoughtfully. “What have you tried so far?”

“Well… I’ve given them gifts, flowers seemed like a sure-fire method- yet he seemed to somehow take them as a platonic gift.”

Bruce stared at Eddie for a long moment. “Who gives flowers platonically?”

Eddie shrugged.

Bruce sighed. “Dammit Harvey… Harv…” He mumbled under his breath. “I could try talking to them, get some better idea of what’s going on their head, could be Harvey and Harv keep arguing on how they want to respond.” He suggested.

Eddie nodded thoughtfully. “That may be the case, that is a possibility I had not considered… thank you for your assistance batma….. ah… Bruce…” He corrected with a slight grin.

Bruce half smiled back.

Batman was on the case.

====

“So… Harv…. Harvey…” Bruce began wandering over to where they were sitting.

They were seemingly switching between drinking a hot coffee and a Frappuccino.

Harvey had complained more than once that because of their disagreements Harv ended up making them consume way too much sugar. Too much caffeine in this case it seemed.

Their eyes flicked over to him.

“Hi Bruce.”

“What’s up Pretty Boy?”

Bruce sat down across from them. “Eddie seems to be interested in you.”

Never hurt to be blunt with a lawyer.

Harvey snorted. “That’d be nice… he is really cute but…”

“I’m sure Eddie is straight, just our luck, right?”

Bruce had never been so shocked in all his life.

Straight?

Eddie…

Straight?! E d  d I  e.

Str a I ght, Edward Nygma E Nygam s t ra ight

The two concepts being put together caused a complete error in Bruce’s mind that was slowly beginning to fry.

Who could possibly conclude that Edward was s t r aight?

The riddler…. The riddler who for a while greeted Batman like he was lowkey interested in a literal love-hate relationship

Edward

Str a I ght.

“Are you… fucking kidding me?” Bruce ended up stammering before he even realized it. “He’s not… at all!”

Harvey blinked at him a few times in surprise.

“What do you mean?”

Bruce gaped at them. They couldn’t be serious.

“Harvey… I… Harv… he… he’s not exactly subtle about it. In fact he’s very open, very much out and proud, flaming even. I’m sure he’d agree.”

Harvey looked at Bruce through squinted eyes. “Are you sure Bruce?”

“Sure, maybe he’s a bit more flashy than your average guy, but that doesn’t mean gay.” Harv added with a shrug.

“He calls you handsome at least 3 times a day.” Bruce said still staring at Harv(ey) like they were absolutely insane.

“Lots of people do.”

“Have you ever seen him even flirt with any women??” Bruce asked in disbelief.

“No but… well there’s always been more men in Arkham, and when do you even have time for that?”

Bruce was somewhere in-between wanting to laugh at them and slap them.

“He’s given you flowers.”

“Pretty sure he’s just being friendly.”

“Friendly…” Bruce wheezed.

This conversation was taking years off his life at this point. He shook his head and texted Edward.

“Get in here (the living room downstairs) It’s important”

Edward slid in and sat peppily down on the couch with Bruce within a few minutes, causing Harv(ey) to look between Eddie and Bruce in confusion.

“You rang Mr. Wayne~?” Eddie asked with a cheeky grin as he leaned his head against his hand.

“You know what these men just said to me?” Bruce began folding his hands together.

“Bruce nooo…” Harvey pleaded.

“No no, I think he should know.” Bruce insisted.

Eddie raised his eyebrows comically high. “Well don’t keep me waiting, what’s the tea?”

Bruce cleared his throat. “They said… they’re sure you’re straight.”

Eddie stared at Bruce for a minute, eyes widening.

“Me?” He asked completely baffled.

Bruce nodded.

Eddie threw back his head and laughed until his face turned red and he had trouble breathing.

Harv(ey) looked on stiffly, feeling as if they had made a mistake somewhere as the dawning realization slapped them in the face.

 ============

Harv(ey)’s POV

===================

It was bad enough they had put themselves in denial so far they had missed out starting something with the small bean-pole riddle-man much earlier…

But now because they had convinced themselves Eddie was straight and therefore could have no interest in them… Eddie and Bruce were refusing to let them live it down.

And Bruce seemed to have gotten literally everyone in on the joke. Anyone Bruce hadn’t told between his partners and his massive family, Eddie had told.

Harley had begun kissing Ivy in front of them while they both traded off saying “no homo tho” between kisses until Harv(ey) groaned and left the room in a huff, leaving them both laughing maniacally.

Eddie had begun dramatically entering a room with a flourish announcing “Ladies and Gentlemen, Guys, Gals, and Non-binary pals, the straightest man alive has arrived, you may all start the party.”

Even when they first slept together, Edward had started quietly laughing and mumbling about “how straight, and very much not gay at all this occurrence was.”

Bruce hadn’t been able to look at them in weeks without breaking out into a full on belly laugh at his expense, mumbling something along the lines of “The Riddler, st r a I ght, good lord...”

On one hand they were happy Bruce was laughing more but god dammit…

They felt a bit dumb about it to say the least.

“How did we ever think Eddie was straight?” Harvey thought to himself.

“I don’t fucking know. I really… really… don’t.”                                                                                          

Well… maybe giving everyone a little levity while still being able to date a cute red-head that seemed to know the strangest facts about almost everything that they could enjoy listening to him babble about for hours happily…. Was all worth it. Even if they were embarrassed by their comically stupid brand of denile.

#prompt fill #twiddler #two face x riddler #harvey dent #harv dent #edward nygma #e nygma #the riddler #batman #bruce wayne #two face #gotham rogues #dc villains #dc comics #fanfic #dc fanfic

[klugpuuo]

this is a robbery!! your oc lore. hand it over >:3 (/lh)

OHHhh you want lore??? then LORe you shall get /lh

i'm going with humaliens because it's the most put-together which is. saying something but also nothing /lh

under the cut because. i infodumped a lil....;;

SO

in humaliens there are four planets. i forgot exactly what they were about but the only one that all the other people on the other planets can directly interact with is this universe's earth because of weird sciency bullcrap

keeping this in mind, a lot of guys went to earth a very long time ago and basically just. lived there! had kids and jobs and stuff and slowly (and willingly) assimilated themselves to life on earth, which is awesome and good for them BUT resulted in many hybrid children being created (mostly hybrid bugs)

now enter our main character, masarath "alyx" kidd, resident she/they transmasc lesbian who is also an ant. she's been an orphan since she was,,, about five years old? in the original hollow knight AU thing, this was because she was taken from her (ant) colony, brought to hallownest, then had to be given to the coliseum of fools for Reasons so that she wouldn't end up dying. not sure exactly what happens in the new thing though

Regardless, she's now about 21 years old, living with her roommate and chosen older brother Zismith Iforgothislastnamehelp, a pretty chill native spider dude

now! masa doesn't know she's part ant alien, nor does she really care much for the other worlds, BUT after finding a very small baby next to a dumpster while on her way to work, she was kinda.. forced into the whole thing, just a little bit.

after being unable to find a good foster home for the baby, she decides to legally adopt him, naming him Berro Kidd. soon after this, she finds out he's the exact opposite of a normal child, especially seeing as for some strange reason he refuses to eat, instead seemingly getting his nutrients from the sun

well! turns out the reason why this is is because he is a member of the weird elf/plant/cat hybrids! and also, funnily enough, the crown prince of the entire species! yep! turns out a grasshopper alien from a smaller planet at war with the elves decided to try stealing the only royal child they had in years to try to fuck shit up for 'em. the grasshopper (named pirou) ended up growing too attached to the child and then decided to leave him on earth, praying he'd get to a half decent home

and he definitely did! masa raised him the best he could (and, if it weren't for zismith, she would've hurt herself in doing so) and continued to take care of him until he was well into adulthood (although once he was like 16 he got a job because he refused to let masa provide everything for him. he's a good kid)

although. i admittedly don't have TOO much planned for the future (as in after he's like 14), i know that around the time he was 12-14 he ended up adopting like 17 opossums, learning ballet, and watching his uncle dismantle his ex-aunt's terrifying capitalistic nightmare company from the inside.

he also became friends with a recycled dimensionhopper oc, lein, who masa ended up, uh, Disposing Of because lein was too creepy (and also she ended up dating lein's cousin)

there is SO much more to this but it's either from the hollow knight side, hidden deep in deleted roleplays, or somewhere i don't want to look so. unless you ask Even more questions this is all you get for now /lh

thankyou SO much for sending this ask and i am sorry for just going insane here

#beeper responds #ok to rb! #infodump #oc #humaliens #original story #original character #original characters #masarath [OC] #masa [OC] #berro [OC] #mentioned> #zismith [OC] #lein [OC] #pirou [OC] #frey [OC] #kweneren [OC] #war mention #child neglect mention #death mention #ask to tag

[artificialqueens]

Everybody Knows You're High, 2/4 (Rajila) - Dartmouth420

“And on the deck while I waited for her to get dressed, I sparked up another one and I was such a mess that I confess that my professor wouldn’t look me in the eye…”

Summary: Raja has a great time at her philosophy class this week, Manila strategically turns the whole situation into a joke, but their attempts to one-up each other go a little too far…

A/N: this chapter is dedicated to the term ‘making out,’ and how vague and ridiculous it is lmao. thank you V&albatross for the shoutout!

tw: weed

Raja forgot that it was a Tuesday and smoked a huge blunt just after noon, before remembering that she had to leave for class in fifteen minutes. Uh oh.

But luckily Professor A. O’Hara’s philosophy class was a lecture and that meant Raja didn’t need to participate, she could just sit in the low-lit room, stare at the slides and let the words wash over her. Which was totally doable while high. Also, Manila was in that class, so Raja didn’t want to skip it.

Pleasantly hazy, Raja threw an open button-up shirt over her tank top, wandered over to Manila’s house a few doors down and knocked on the door.

Manila answered, her face pink and sweaty, her fantastic legs clad in neon green leggings.

“I just got back from the gym,” said Manila, “I still need to change, just give me a sec-“

“Sure,” said Raja, leaning casually against the porch railing. Manila looked pretty cute, all warm and sweaty like that. Raja reached into her front pocket and found a tiny little joint she must have forgotten in there the last time she’d worn this shirt.

Well, she was already high, so why the hell not? Raja sighed happily, thanking whatever deities had decided to smile upon her today as she fished her lighter out of her shorts, and lit up.

Manila came back out a few minutes later, in a neat little corduroy skirt that hugged her hips, shirt tucked in, and said, “Oh my god, are you getting high right now?”

“Yeah,” replied Raja, happy and content, “I forgot it was Tuesday and started earlier, figured I may as well lean in, right?”

Manila rolled her eyes and shook her head, then locked the door.

They walked together to campus in the warm sun, and Raja began to feel soft, even a little loopy, like she needed to slow down…

“Hurry up, we’re going to be late,” urged Manila, walking ahead of her.

“Nah, just slow down a bit,” murmured Raja in response. The sun was catching in Manila’s hair again, the black curls shining with an almost reddish-orange highlight.

“Are you related to any gingers?” asked Raja, blithely.

“Uh, my uncle on my mom’s side,” replied Manila, “And so is one of my cousins. Why?”

“Your hair has this kinda red highlight in the sun…”

Manila laughed and it was a happy sound that Raja quite liked. But then Manila went behind Raja and pushed her, her hands on Raja’s back as she hustled her rapidly down the sidewalk, which Raja liked a little less. They finally got into the building and managed to make it to class with only seconds to spare.

Raja entered the dark room, supremely comfortable and chill, and took her usual seat. Manila sat next to her, taking out her neat little notebook and pen to take notes. She was so organized, Raja admired that about her.

Professor O’Hara greeted the class and hit the lights to begin the lecture. Raja smiled and nodded and basked in the weird glow of the PowerPoint while Manila diligently took notes next to her. The words washed over them both.

After the lecture was done and the lights turned back on, Professor O’Hara took questions from the class. Raja found she had a question too, and raised her hand.

“Don’t draw attention to yourself-“ hissed Manila next to her, trying to grab Raja’s hand and force it back down.

But Professor O’Hara has already addressed her, so Raja batted Manila off and opened her mouth.

“Uh, so…” began Raja, leaning forward and putting her chin in her hand, pausing for what she was sure was only a couple seconds. An amused murmur rippled through the crowd. “So, when Plato talks about you know, duality, what if-“

Raja wasn’t sure where she was going with her question, but she was confident it was going somewhere, and kept talking. Professor O’Hara had an amused expression on her face, and pressed her lips together, not quite making eye contact. Next to Raja, Manila slid lower in her seat and shielded her eyes with her hand.

“…so like, isn’t that connected to Aristotle’s original idea about being?” finished Raja.

Muffled laughter sounded throughout the class. What was so funny?

Professor O’Hara blinked, and cocked her head to the side, then said, “Well, to everyone’s surprise that’s actually an excellent question, Raja-“ and proceeded to answer it.

Raja glowed with the praise, nodding her head slowly as Professor O’Hara answered her question, and further elaborated on the content of the lecture, which inspired more questions from the class. Raja remained pleasantly blazed. Coming to class like this had been a great idea after all-

Soon enough it was over, and Raja yawned, sleepy, and stretched as Manila put her things back in her bag.

“Raja,” said Manila with resignation, hoisting her backpack to her shoulder, while the rest of the class filed out around them, throwing amused glances in Raja’s direction, “Everybody knows you’re high.”

“Mmm…” replied Raja, content, getting up from her seat and tripping a little on the edge of the chair, “Yeah, this time I don’t care.”

-

The problem with Raja, considered Manila as they walked back down the street together after class and Raja prattled away, happy and stoned, was that from the day they’d met Manila wanted throw her against the wall, furiously make out with her, have insanely hot sex in every imaginable way, move in together, start their lives, be completely and utterly in love, have like four kids and three dogs, raise them, retire, get old, and die together. 

Obviously that was a little much. 

Manila had quickly learned that her desperate fantasy seemed to be the exact opposite of what Raja was looking for. Raja’s priorities seemed to consist of getting stoned, getting laid, playing video games and going to class. Apparently in that order. So, they became good friends instead, along with Delta and Carmen, and had an excellent friendship that involved terrible humour, petty competition, and affectionately roasting one another to death. Given that Raja had never shown any romantic interest in her, Manila did her best to shove her feelings to the back of her mind. She wasn’t going to ruin a great friendship with her idiotic feelings, god forbid!

So, not that Raja randomly asking her to make out the other day had thrown Manila’s world off its axis anything, just… ugh.

They kept walking, and Raja kept talking to herself. Admittedly, she was making some great points about Plato.

“Carmen’s kinda mad at you, by the way,” said Raja, turning to her. Her deep brown eyes were a little bloodshot, but still shockingly intense and beautiful.

“Why?” asked Manila, glancing at the blue, open sky instead. It was a lovely day.

“‘Cause you unlocked metallic Peach the other day. She wanted to unlock metallic Peach.”

“Tell her the day she beats me at literally one round of Smash Bros is the day I’ll stop unlocking stuff for her,” said Manila.

“This is just as bad as the Mario Kart Incident last April,” said Raja, who was still looking at her, and then added, in an apparent non-sequitur, “Hey, has anyone ever told you you’re like really pretty?”

“Yeah, my mom,” replied Manila sarcastically, but her heart beat a little faster with the compliment.

“No, come on!” replied Raja, with a blissed-out expression and a goofy smile, “You are, though. Your hair is like so nice-“

Manila didn’t know what to say. Getting this kind of attention from Raja wasn’t something she’d anticipated happening, it was making her feel vulnerable and a little turned on, and she wanted to believe that it meant something… but doubt congealed in her stomach. It didn’t mean anything beyond a casual, well-intentioned, platonic expression of attraction. This was just how Raja was.

“Shut up!” laughed Manila semi-hysterically, impulsively pushing Raja in response. Raja was stoned and off-balance enough that she tripped and fell into the neighbour’s garden with an indignant squawk. Manila felt bad for a split second, then laughed out loud.

“Hey!” protested Raja, picking herself up from the enormous hosta plant she’d fallen into, her long black hair in her face, “I thought you liked me!”

“I do like you, you don’t need to worry about that!” said Manila over her shoulder, maintaining a joking attitude and walking up the steps to her house.

“You’re the worst,” whined Raja, making a face, then flipping her off in a friendly goodbye. Manila returned the gesture.

Manila went inside and got a snack from the kitchen, said hi to her roommate Shangela who’d just gotten out of the shower, and went into her room. Manila dropped her backpack to the ground and flopped down on her bed. 

It was simple: Raja was blazed as usual and messing with her, that was all. But if there was anything Manila was good at, it was messing with people in return.

-

Raja wasn’t used to being rejected. She was, after all, very cool, extremely sexy, highly intelligent and always had weed. Clearly a catch! But apparently not to Manila. Raja knew Manila liked her, Manila had specifically said so the other day! They were already friends, they understood each other’s humour, and they hung out regularly, which was half the battle when it came to getting involved with somebody, even casually.

So, at Morgan’s Hallowe’en party, Raja found herself on the enormous, crumby couch, passing a blunt back and forth with Manila and several others. Some mid-2000s hip hop music played in the background, and way too many people were packed into the space in ridiculous costumes. Manila was pressed in next to her on the crowded couch. Earlier Raja had noted Raven somewhere at the other end of the house, pointedly ignoring her, which was ideal.

Manila somehow managed to look incredibly cute while dressed as Weird Al Yankovic, fake moustache and all, which was a feat in and of itself. Raja was dressed as Raoul Duke from Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, because she related to him on a spiritual level, and already had the sunglasses for it. Their dumb costumes even matched, both featuring ugly Hawaiian shirts. Manila was cracking a joke with Carmen on her other side, and Raja figured this was as good an opportunity as any. Raja slung a casual arm around Manila, passed the blunt back to her and whispered in her ear, “Do you wanna make out?”

Manila put the blunt to her lips and inhaled deeply, the end glowing orange as Raja waited with anticipation for her answer, excitement mounting in her stomach.

With a smirk, Manila blew a lungful of smoke into Raja’s face, then she rested her hand on Raja’s thigh, and leaned in. Raja’s heartbeat accelerated.

Manila shut her eyes and Raja shut hers too, barely able to believe it was happening. Manila’s lips brushed against hers, soft, thrilling, just the barest hint of contact-

Manila pulled back abruptly, and Raja opened her eyes, confused. 

Manila gave her an absolutely shit-eating grin and declared, “Nope!”

Raja’s jaw, along with her mood, dropped with disappointment. An odd moment passed between them. Through her haze Raja realized, with Manila’s shit-eating grin and her hand on still suggestively on her thigh, that Manila was mocking her. Raja, totally stoned, asking her to make out with for a second time with the exact same line had inevitably, painfully, become a joke. 

Raja huffed, insulted, and turned away. Manila cackled.

On Raja’s other side someone new sat down, a pretty, athletic and tanned girl with dirty blonde hair, her amazing body in clad in what was basically red lingerie and devil horns. Raja recognized her, she was that girl a year or two below them who went running with Manila sometimes. She was laughing, her head thrown back, at something another blonde beside her was saying.

Raja tapped her on the shoulder and said, “Hey, you’re cute, do you wanna make out?”

The girl blinked at her in shock, and then grinned, and said, “Uh, oh my god, yeah.”

“Great.”

“Damn, you’re so direct, I’ve had a crush on you like forev-”

Raja ignored her, took her face in her hands and leaned in. Their lips met and the girl let out an excited gasp. She tasted like Jack Daniels and smelled like tropical perfume. Nice. And she was a great kisser, with an enthusiastic and knowing tongue. The girl’s warm hands immediately went to Raja’s shoulders. Around them a few people oohed and laughed, and Raja caressed the girl’s lower back and practically pulled her into her lap. Raja’s bucket hat fell off the back of her head.

Manila was still laughing at something on Raja’s other side, but her laughter stopped abruptly, and Raja felt the couch shift as Manila stood up. Raja broke the kiss for a moment and glanced over her shoulder in time to see Manila stomp away, furious jealousy in every line of her body, throwing her fake glasses to the floor.

That’s right, burn.

Smug, Raja went back to making out with the blonde chick in her lap, their hands wandering all over each other until someone yelled at them to get a room. May as well. Raja got up and led the girl into Morgan’s messy bedroom and shut the door.

“You know you’re like a legend around here, right?” chuckled the blonde girl, grasping the edge of Raja’s shirt and pulling her down onto the bed with her, “By the way, my name’s Willam-”

“That’s nice,” replied Raja, crawling on top of her, kissing her neck and getting down to business.

-

It became an inside joke.

Manila had barely managed to pull it off, because coming so close to kissing Raja had been horribly thrilling, (electric, overwhelming, transcendent), and she’d wanted so badly for it to be real, to be anything other than just a stoned-and-low-key-horny suggestion on Raja’s part-

So, despite Manila’s burst of jealousy over Raja’s makeout session at the Hallowe’en party with Willam, her gym buddy of all people, their friendship remained strong and uninterrupted. Manila didn’t hold it against Willam either, who’d been all too happy to talk about it at their next cardio and gossip session, because Raja was generally irresistible. Manila sure as hell wasn’t going to let it get to her. After all, this kind of thing was in the nature of a friendship that largely consisted of roasting each other to death over a high-octane flame.

As the week passed the joke got even funnier. Raja got over sulking about it, and started purposefully asking Manila to make out at the most hilarious, awkward, and inopportune times.

For example:

Playing Smash Bros at Raja’s house late on a Saturday night with Delta and Carmen, everybody squashed on the couch: “Can we make out if I win?” “As if you’d ever beat me, bitch.” “It’s true Raja, you kind of suck at Nintendo-” “Shut up!”

Hollered across the quad, much to Manila’s embarrassment and Raja’s enjoyment, in front of a crowd of freshman, “Hey Manila, you wanna come over here and make out!?” “Go shove your tongue down somebody else’s throat!” “Aw, rude!”

In the hallway after class, just as Professor O’Hara walked by, loudly: “Wanna come back to my place and make out?” “Oh my god, Raja!” “Ladies.” “Sorry, professor!”

Whispered in the library, “Do you wanna go into the stacks and make out?” “Write your essay.” “I’m done, though-“ “What, already!?”

Even Delta and Carmen got in on it, and Manila had to dodge the question from them too. Teasing, sexy requests of, Hey, wanna make out, Manila? followed her around, as Manila clapped back hilarious retorts to gales of laughter. It was fun and Manila rode the wave of attention with aplomb.

Manila figured that this particular’s joke’s shelf life would only last as long as any other and would soon fade into oblivion, replaced by whatever came next, and Manila would never have to address or bring to light her feelings for Raja.

In her opinion, she’d handled the situation perfectly. And Manila praised herself for it as she ran her usual route, glancing up at Raja’s house as she ran by.

But every night before she fell asleep, a little voice tugged at the back of her brain and said, maybe you shouldn’t mock people when they express attraction to you, that’s kind of fucked up, and she’s your friend, maybe she actually does like you back- Manila aggressively quashed it.

-

“Hey, so,” said Raja, on the way to the library with Manila to buckle down and write their philosophy papers together as the end of term approached, “Why don’t you want to make out with me? Like, I’m a total catch.”

It hadn’t previously occurred to her to ask, but maybe this would help her get a leg up on the situation. Ideally Manila’s leg. Ideally up on her shoulder while Raja ate her out, and Manila blushed pink like she sometimes did, and tangled her hands in Raja’s hair, and gasped and arched her back and- that was neither here nor there. As hilarious as it was, the joke had been driving Raja a little insane. If Manila had said, in any seriousness, that she wanted Raja to stop asking, Raja would have. But she hadn’t, Manila had leaned in to the silly, flirtatious back and forth. 

Instead of forgetting about it, the endless teasing and parody of the matter had only reinforced what Raja wanted in the first place.

“Well,” said Manila after a pause, adjusting her heavy bag and glancing at the cloudy sky, “You don’t take school very seriously.”

“What?” laughed Raja, who’d been expecting something more along the lines of I’m genuinely not attracted to you or I think I want to date guys again, “Is that really it? I totally do!”

“No you don’t, you’re a huge stoner.”

“Yeah but thats just for fun, I’m like really smart,” replied Raja, grinning, “You should see my GPA.”

“Mmm no, you’re real dumb,” sassed Manila. She shook her head and her curly hair, up in a high ponytail again today, bounced with the motion and Raja wanted to run her fingers through it. “You’re a total goofball and everyone knows it. You show up to class high! I have like a 3.82, and I want to keep it there.”

“How would making out with me affect your grades?”

“They say you are what you eat…”

They both exploded into laughter, causing the other students walking down the busy campus path to throw irritated glances their way.

“Bitch,” replied Raja, elbowing her, “A 3.82 is nothing-”

“Hey, no,” protested Manila, stopping and turning to her, “It’s like really good, don’t talk down my accomplishments just because you’re jealous-“

“I have a 3.91.”

Manila opened and shut her mouth in shock, before responding, “No you don’t, you’re lying.”

“No I’m not.”

“Prove it.”

“Sure,” chuckled Raja, taking out her phone and going to the school website, launching the grading centre, pulling up her current transcript and grade point average, “Look.”

Raja handed Manila her phone, gloating. The screen read 3.91847. Manila took it and her eyes narrowed, and she scrolled up to check that it was actually Raja’s name at the top, then back down again. 

“Guess I do take school seriously,” taunted Raja, unable to suppress the urge to tease her.

With unexpected force, Manila shoved the phone back into Raja’s hands.

“Whatever!” snapped Manila, rushing ahead furiously.

“Hey, where are you going?” called Raja after her, laughing, “Don’t be mad just ‘cause I get better grades than you-“

“I’ll see you at the library!” snarled Manila over her shoulder, power walking down the street.

Raja watched Manila walk away, pleased that she’d proven her wrong her but confused as to why she was so mad. Raja wandered into the little smoking area with a couple of scraggly trees and fished in her bag for a tiny joint she’d hidden there earlier. She found it and lit up, inhaling the comforting smoke. Just a little something to help get those creative and intellectual juices flowing…

-

After a few hours of work in the library while Raja pumped dreamwave tunes through her headphones directly into her skull and wrote her philosophy paper, she looked up and noticed Manila sighing deeply for like the fourth time.

“What’s up?” whispered Raja, taking her headphones off.

“Nothing,” whispered Manila back. Her eyebrows were scrunched together.

“Are you mad at me?”

“No.”

“Fine.”

Raja put her headphones back on, without music, and wrote a few more sentences, pausing to check her references. She was going to get a hundred percent on this paper, she already knew it. Raja had been a bit of a child prodigy in terms of reading and writing comprehension, and her memory, her research skills, her grasp of history, literature, sociology and philosophy were outstanding. Her two dads were loving and supportive hippies who let her do whatever she wanted, so her sense of freedom and confidence had soared throughout her college career along with her grades.

“I can’t believe you have a higher GPA than me,” complained Manila, under her breath.

Raja took her headphones off again and gloated, “Yep, this huge stoner right here is better at school than you.”

Manila glared at her, then sighed again. Raja smirked, but her face fell, because Manila actually looked sad. And tired. There were lines under her eyes. Sympathy tugged at Raja’s stomach. 

“Well, a 3.82 is really good,” began Raja, shutting her laptop and leaning forward, “Like, it’s above average-”

“Don’t be patronizing,” said Manila, shaking her head, closing her laptop and gathering up her books, “I can’t work on this anymore, let’s head out.”

“Okay, sure,” said Raja, getting up. A few people at other tables were glaring at them anyway, angry about the interruption of the silence. Raja wanted to make Manila feel better, and wondered how.

They left the library, walking together through the dark evening in the direction of home. It was a clear night, and the stars were just visible. Raja dug around in her bag for a joint but couldn’t find one.

“I have that good spicy instant ramen and Cheetos at home,” suggested Raja after a few minutes, “It’s not that late if you want to come over.“

“So we can make out?” added Manila sarcastically.

“No,” replied Raja, “Just to like decompress, I dunno, I’m hungry, I thought you might be too…”

“Do you ever eat vegetables?”

“Weed is a plant.”

Manila laughed and shook her head.

“What’s bothering you?” pressed Raja. 

“I try like, really hard,” said Manila, after a pause, “I take college seriously, and my parents have such high expectations of me, I just- I put so much work into it and you-” Manila gestured at her, “You fucking coast, Raja. Look at yourself. You get stoned all the time, you party and play Nintendo. And honestly, you treat the girls you date like they’re disposable, Raven’s reaction wasn’t that unreasonable… but everyone still likes you, you somehow have a perfect GPA and you look amazing-”

“Yeah, I do look amazing,” agreed Raja, with a smile. She decided to ignore the middle part of what Manila had said.

“-and you have the self-awareness of a fruit bat.”

Raja looked carefully at Manila. Her expression was tired and frustrated, the orange glow of the streetlight catching in her hair. Despite the way they constantly roasted one another, Raja cared about her, and it saddened her to hear that Manila was feeling the pressure of… well, everything.

Self-awareness. Hmm. Raja could work on that. Maybe that was the key to getting Manila to see that she wasn’t joking, that Raja genuinely, unexpectedly, to her own surprise, really liked her.

“So,” said Raja, as they approached her house, the living room light shining like a beacon, indicating that Delta or Carmen was still up, “Instant ramen and Cheetos? You can kick my ass at Smash Bros, that always makes you feel better.”

“You know what, sure,” replied Manila, rolling her eyes, a smile at the edge of her mouth, “I’m gonna hand you your ass on a silver platter, bitch. Especially since you always insist on playing as Yoshi for some reason…”

Raja smiled to herself as they went up the front steps to her door.

#rpdr fanfiction #everybody knows you're high #rajila #raja gemini #manila luzon #lesbian au #college au #dartmouth420 #tw weed #submission

[facelessfrey]

Roswell New Mexico Season 2, Episode 13

- I’m sure that wasn’t supposed to be comedy but I literally laughed through most of that and I’m still laughing at the last scene. I can’t. I just...I can’t. I mean what the fuck even was half of that?!?!?

- I mean that episode was WILD. I don’t even know where to begin. This is going to get long...you are forewarned. 

- Let’s start with the EXTREMELY RAPID conclusion of last week’s mortal peril. Yep....let’s just do some CPR...not even have to break out the alien defibrillator powers and oh look Max is just fine. I mean...thank god cause I could not go through a repeat of last season although...considering the last scene...that might be preferable. (I’m still laughing...like full on cracking up and my roommates probably think I’m nuts). Then we’ve got Liz dumping the contents of some top secret recipe giant ketchup bottles on the alien console and oh...yep....melted. Glad that crisis was averted. Then we have some random shots of people going to the hospital and oh look...everyone’s alive and fine except...Jesse Manes. I mean...don’t get me wrong...he’s a monster and I’m not sorry he’s dead by my god what a pitiful end to a character that should have been a really good villain but instead was a guy who limped around in the background most of the season until suddenly in one episode it turns out he had been putting together a dastardly plan to show the aliens as the monsters they are and then murder them....sure. Why not?!?! Well...I guess it’s nice that that barely three episode arc of Gregory Manes wanting to stand up for Alex got some closure. I just...it’s so dumb!!!!

- Oh wait...I forgot...not shocking cause it was literally two seconds, but hey...Helena randomly went back and saved Charlie and proceeded to yell at her for getting chained up and not leaving while she freed her. Cool. 

- Right...so that’s all wrapped up in the opening five minutes...let’s just move on...we’ve got a lot of other insane junk we have to throw into the next 35 minutes. Yep...still laughing. 

- Let’s just kick things off with Michael and Maria...and now I’m laughing again. I did ask the show to prove me wrong earlier today and well...I mean....they half did?!?!?!! Except it was literally insane so I don’t even know what to say. So...Maria’s just fine cause you know she was only half alien so that’s cool and great and then oh wait...she just happens to have a magic plot box dropped off by Mimi. Thanks Mimi...you still have no real purpose in this story except to occasionally move the plot forward but thanks for the box. But Michael doesn’t trust Mimi’s plot hints so he doesn’t want to open the box. Instead....he goes to hang with Alex and they destroy the shed together, which admittedly was a very nice scene and totally gave me Stendan in Dublin vibes and I quite liked it. 

- But it was also all so they could find a literal skeleton under the floorboards. Gotta get those callbacks in eh? Hahaha. And of course it’s Tripp! Who else would it be? And of course...he’s got the magical key so it turns out Mimi really is tuned into the plot and read ahead in the script and knew that box would be important! So back to Maria he goes after having this super cathartic scene with Alex that tied into their emotional past together. I mean...par for the course...and I was fully ready for the whiplash that was going to make me crazy and you know...I was not disappointed because they started out being all “hey I love you” and I was like “eye roll knew that was coming” but then! She just up and breaks up with him because that’s what you do after a mutual I love you that’s based on zero relationship development over the past twelve and a half episodes. And once again...I am laughing. 

- I mean...I’ll say this...I’m glad it was her that broke up with him and in part because she totally knows he’s in love with Alex and we have been saying that literally all season so like I’m glad she noticed. But I literally died when she was all “I’ve learned so much from this relationship”. What?! What did you learn? Did you get motivation in your script direction that we weren’t privy to because I still have literally no idea what either of you were supposed to be getting out of that relationship but hey...who cares cause it’s over now and Maria just decided that so it’s all fine. No heartbreak there. And you know...Michael seems totally cool with it. Barely even put up a fight. Hahahahaha. Again...I can’t. 

- So then we go back to Alex and Michael and Isobel who is all of a sudden team Malex this episode when previously she was inventing emojis for Michael’s Maria hearteyes so yeah...all of this is just really confusing. But hey! The box has Tripp’s journal in it and descriptions that make Michael squirm but also....Tripp and Nora’s love was...wait for....COSMIC! Hahaha. Oh this show. It’s drunk on it’s own absurdity. So anyway...we’re filled in on the rest of Tripp and Nora’s story...well...sort of. We know she tried ice cream and liked it and there was talk of the mystery bad man that wasn’t Noah but uh...more on that later. Haha. Well...I guess we know Harlan killed Tripp and we unfortunately saw Nora die so that’s a wrap on the 1947 flashbacks I guess?!?! Sure. 

- Oh god and the song...since we’re on Malex anyway. I mean...I liked the song and yeah....he got all the references in there. I never look away...cosmic...sure. And I knew once Forrest was there that kiss was going to happen but my god...are we really setting up season three where now Alex is the one in a random relationship and Michael is trying to be happy for him and we repeat season two’s nonsense?! Are we going to have another threesome just for funzies because you know...that was still LITERALLY the dumbest and most pointless plot point of the season. But anyway, I’m happy Alex felt comfortable enough to sing a song about a guy and kiss a guy in front of a crowded bar but there was literally NO REASON it could not have been Michael. He and Forrest literally had like four scenes together this season compared to Malex who had this whole emotional arc but no...gotta make it complicated. 

- Props to them for managing to have one last break up without actually even having a conversation this time. TALENT. LEGENDS ONLY. 

- I guess at least now that there’s just a minor character in the way and they probably can’t actually kiss again due to coronavirus restrictions, there’s probably some hope for Malex next season?!?! Maybe they’ll find a vaccine by the time there’s a Malex reunion. Maybe good things come to those who suffer. Hahaha.

- Right...let’s move on to Max and Liz. So uhh...Max spends the whole episode seeming like he was hopped up on drugs again or desperate for a fix. What is in that antidote?! Once again we gloss over the “darkness” in Max because like who needs real follow up to the first five episodes of the season. Not this show!

- The whole “Max destroys Liz’s lab” plot was nuts. Just the sheer speed of it from Diego magically appearing at the diner with the Generyx woman to Jenna’s super spy disguise to Max just blowing up the lab as Diego and co drive up and then they just exit stage left super fast except for the fact that Liz is still seemingly going to California but like...why? Did Generyx woman still agree to give her a grant based on her exploding lab?! Did she just feel bad that she didn’t have a lab anymore?! 

- Sidebar to Steph...fucking Steph...whose apparent entire purpose this season was to be sick enough to inspire Liz to do science and break up her and Max over it and then survive after Liz randomly finds time to give her some kind of half baked medicine from her lab BEFORE it exploded??!?! Or does she just carry that shit around with her? And for the love of god SOMEBODY SAVE KYLE from this EXCRUCIATINGLY BORING story!!!!!! Please don’t subject him to more of this next season. Let them break up during the pandemic and give Kyle a clean slate and allow him to reenter the narrative in a way that allows him actual screen time and scenes with the group. Sigh...at least he got to hug Liz and have a brief scene with Alex where Alex told him he was proof of redemption. Look at that character arc that was literally told in two scenes this season! Yeah...see they can be concise when they want to!

- Anyway...back to Max. OH MY GOD WHAT WAS THAT FINAL SCENE?!?!?!??! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA?!!? I don’t even know what I was expecting but it WAS NOT THAT! What even?!?! WHY AM I BEING SUBJECTED TO TWO MAXES?!?! ONE WAS ENOUGH...sometimes MORE THAN ENOUGH. This is just really mean and so was forcing me to look at that HIDEOUS beard! I just....I really can’t handle it. HAHAHA! What drugs were they on when they wrote this?! Also...NONE OF THIS ANSWERS ANY QUESTION AT ALL!!!!!!!!!

- Let’s see...what else...

- I’m glad Jenna and Charlie FINALLY had a scene together because when Jenna first said that Charlie had disappeared again, I got so mad because it was just inexplicably dumb. So I’m glad they got to see each other. 

- I’m glad Rosa is going back to rehab and that she both got to tell her mother that she loved her and tell her to stay the fuck away. 

- I’m just laughing at the fact that for like one episode Helena was suddenly the big bad or at least a main antagonist or at least some kind of main player for the season and then just as quickly was COMPLETELY IRRELEVANT and is probably just going to leave now?!??! WHY?!?!?!? 

- Can Isobel please get something legit to do next season that doesn’t just involve her going into people’s heads without asking and maybe involves her getting a love interest of her own? Please?! I mean...I’m glad she got learn about her mother this season but also I feel like she didn’t do much and I think she deserves more than that. 

- I guess I’m glad Maria is embracing her alien side and trying to be true to herself or whatever but also....she was literally just in this episode to “not be dead”, to give Michael a plot box and to break up with him so she’s no longer a shipping obstacle. And then we never saw her again the rest of the episode. I really sincerely hope they do more with her next season in a way that actually serves her as a character because this season did not do her many favors. I’m glad she finally knows about the aliens and they delved into her own alien identity but I hope she really gets to do something with that next season and not just exist to save everyone else at the end with no thanks for it. I mean literally no one was on screen visiting her except Michael just so she could give him a box and break up with him. Liz and Max were literally at the hospital. But no...Liz had to see irrelevant Steph so she could save her for some unknown reason. Sigh....Not even her cool aunt Isobel came to see her. 

- I don’t even know what else to say. I’m still laughing. I still feel like I know LITERALLY NOTHING about what was going on this season. I had hopes for this season at the end of season one but honestly I have zero hopes for season three because I’m sure it will be a clusterfuck but an even weirder clusterfuck than normal cause everyone will be standing eight feet apart. Maybe that will make them tell a tighter story and not try and shove 75 different plots into 13 episodes??? Probably not. I’m sure it’ll still be batshit crazy and make no sense at all. I’m gonna treat the show as a comedy from now on. 

- Well...it’s been fun all. Thanks to anyone who made it through this whole nonsense post. You deserve a prize. Maybe a plot box or a skeleton under a floorboard or a journal telling you your relatives’ love was cosmic too. 

#roswell new mexico #roswell reveiws #roswell nm #rnm #this was very long as predicted #I am sure I will still think of more things later

[liw-the-melancholic-apple]

The first one  - Bonusscenes in traditional written word

This is a smau and a zukoXreader, although i haven't decided how this ends yet.

Y/n has recently transferred to Ba Sing Se from Omashu university and meets the gaang through a schoolproject they do with sokka and suki.

Masterlist

Bonus 3: Partytime

It was a short walk from the metrostation to the park in which the party was held. Suki and Sokka had explained to you that their friend Haru had helped organise it. Apparently, it was a thing the Psychology department threw every year – that was to say the students of the Psych faculty. Haru was one of them and deeply involved in Campus life.

Sokka had said that you were going to be gobsmacked and mind boggled by the professionality with which the party would be set up and you had laughed. Shame on you for not believing him. He had been right.

The park was obviously of the public variety and so you expected a couple speakers, and crates of beer strewn about. What you didn’t expect were fairylights in every last tree and bush, a DJ set-up of the highest quality and amazing sound from all the speakers one could imagine, or three tents with bars in them, where drinks were reasonably priced. You hadn’t been expecting the benches, couches and tables made from pallets used in warehouses or the abundance of cushions and pillows. You hadn’t expected the camping chairs and the make-shift firepit. It was insane and you stood in awe as you failed to follow Suki.

“You coming?”, Aang laughed before he grabbed you by the hand. You first made your way to one of the bars, then, equipped with alcoholic goodness, Suki introduced you to Haru, who turned out to be an ex-roommate of Zuko’s. He also played guitar in what he called an inappropriately ambitious garage band, which intrigued you. But before you really got to interview him on any of that, he was disappeared by a friend of his.

Suki found a couple of her Kyoshi sorority sisters and introduced you to them and their partners. It turned out that your initial idea of fraternities and sororities was wrong: They were not all terrible and not all ‘brothers’ and ‘sisters’ were stuck up snobs. Suki was the best example of that. She was amazing and clever and smart. And very kind and not at all elitist. After all she was the one who invited you to this shindig. Her ‘sisters’ and their boyfriends and girlfriends, some of which were also in fraternities and sororities, were as kind and open as Suki was and you spent a good portion of your night learning names, trying to remember the history of the different organisations and their respective significance to BSSU, being taught simple fight stances and moves from the Kyoshi’s and laughing.

You laughed a lot. Only halfway through the night, hours later, after Sokka had joined you again, when you had lost all sense of being a stranger, you realised how desperate you’d been for this kind of interaction. This kind of laughing, dancing, making fun of people and talking bullshit. How much you had needed to be part of a group. How lonely you had actually been.

But at this moment, while you were trying to not spit out your beer as you listened to a story about Suki, expertly told by Mamoto, who was either someone’s boyfriend or someone’s brother – who knew? There were so many people and so many connections and a good deal of friends dating a friend’s ex – you didn’t think about what you’d needed for two months. You thought about … nothing? Everything? Really, you just let your thoughts drift, like you drifted yourself. From conversation to conversation, from person to person, from group to group, from subject to subject.

As nervous as you’d been standing in front of the dragon, as relaxed you were now. You didn’t really care about the music or the drink you had in your hand – you were not overdoing it, though, you were still new and needed to make a good expression – you cared about the company. And the company was excellent.

Bian, one of the Kyoshi-sisters, and her girlfriend Tuyet had claimed you after they found out about Gray Sky.

“A band? Like a proper band?”

“I mean that depends on your definition of ‘proper’ but, yeah? There were several people, playing several different instruments in order to create a coherent song.”

“Which means a proper band!”, Tuyet assured you.

“Have you ever played at a place? Or like an actual concert?”, Bian wanted to know.

“We used to play Friday nights at a bar.”

“Proper band!”, they both smiled at you.

“You should meet TaMing. She was a Kyoshi-sister before she dropped out of college. She plays in the same band as Haru.”

“Oh, I’ve met him. Seems nice.”

“Right, right. He is. Usually he brings his guitar to these things. At some point he will sit at the bonfire over there “, Bian explained, “and play some typical bonfire music. He’s good. You should go over there.”

“Not right now, though. I would first like to know what you think of Sokka!” Bian’s face was hard to read. You couldn’t tell if she liked or hated him but in a sense you also didn’t care. Your answer came instantly: “He’s great!” He was. A funny kind person with some brains. Admittedly, he didn’t look like a genius or ever put a lot of emphasis on how much excelled academically, but that didn’t take his intellect away. His jokes and nonchalant-ness were inviting and genuine and deceptively ‘hid’ his smarts. Sokka wasn’t intimidating when you first met him, but that didn’t mean that you shouldn’t be scared of him.

You were quite certain that you wouldn’t want to cross Sokka. You’d be dead. You’d be killed until dead. But it would look like an accident…

“Don’t you think he is a bit too goofy?”

“No, I don’t. I mean he sure is goofy, but I find that to be delightful.”

“Give it a couple more weeks.”

“You don’t like Sokka?”

“No, I like him! I just also find him annoying, I could do without all the dumb jokes. But he’s good to Suki and really, that’s the only thing that matters…If he makes her happy who am I to complain about some goofy puns, you know?” You liked Bian.

So, a little later you followed her to the camping chairs by the bonfire. This is where you met back up with Toph, who you now realised you hadn’t seen in a hot minute. Just like a bunch of the others. In the beginning of your little Kyoshi-session you had all but held hands with Suki and Katara, but Suki soon left you in order to wash someone’s head about their head – Wan is that you? In Ba Sing Se? – so you held on to Katara who vanished quickly after Suki with what looked like Aang.

Now you were reunited with Toph you brought out the bottle of Banana liqueur you got earlier that day. Toph tried some and declared you crazy. It was an acquired taste. While you were drinking your respective drinks Toph explained the general basics of the group to you:

“Well, you obviously know that Sokka and Suki are dating. That’s a nice spot to start. Suki is new, Sokka is old, meaning that I knew Sokka before I knew Suki. Suki just is Sokka’s girlfriend to me, you know. He went off to college and weeks later we were hearing about this badass girl he tried to get to like him. It was very entertaining.” You chuckled at the idea of Sokka trying to impress Suki before they were dating.

“Anyways, I heard about Suki because I was friends with Sokka in High School. Sort of. I was friends with Aang, who was friends with everyone in High School, because, well you’ve met him. He’s Aang. He’s friends with people. But he was pretty close to Katara and Sokka, after they met. And us four kinda became our own little core group.

So, Sokka, Katara, Aang and I are all old, while Suki, Zuko, Haru and you would be new.”

“Well”, you interrupted her, “I wouldn’t dream to compare my standing with you core group to Suki’s position. I just met you. She’s been dating Sokka for how long?”

“2 years 10 months.” That was quick. She just knew that. Off the top of her head. You made a mental note.

“And Zuko has probably been a part of your group for a while as well, right?”

“More or less since after he graduated. His time at uni did him well, I’d say. We ran into him around new year’s of his freshman-year here”, she whirled her arms around, hitting Tuyet in the face.

“Sorry, I thought you were further away. Anyways,  he started being nice and I think we ended up together on New Year’s. And after that he bonded with Sokka in his first year here. So, you know, Suki – Zuko – Suki -Zuko – about the same time they joined.

And back then Zuko lived with Haru, so that’s how we met him.”

You kept drinking and chatting until Sokka burst onto the scene looking for Suki. When he couldn’t immediately find her, he asked you for the bottle of rum you still had.

“Listen, it’s late and I’m not waiting for my illusive girlfriend to bring me a drink, to start catching up!”, Sokka yelled after you commented on how much of the bottle he had emptied in just his first gulp. “I asked Suki to get my drink ready and await me, but she ignored that… No, Toph. No.”

He held the bottle out of her reach and twisted his shoulder weirdly, so that she’d never guess where exactly the rum was. He kept cradling the bottle while Haru and some friends found their way to the bonfire and – like Bian had promised – broke out the guitars. They were good. Really good. You hummed along to some of the songs and joined the choir of Toph, Sokka, Suki, Zuko and a bunch of strangers in the choruses of most others.

Suki took the bottle off Sokka, nearly as soon as she arrived, but when the 90’s boyband hits sounded through the park, Zuko gave it back to him.

“Poor Suki, will not agree with that”, you grinned as he caught you watching him.

“Maybe, but you will. Believe me”, Zuko said with a smirk and a wink.

He was right. With another two gulps of rum, Sokka was ready to not only sing solos but also presenting his version of well-known boyband-choreographies.

“You still judging me?” Zuko leaned over and gestured for the bottle of Banana liquor.

“Yes, sorta. I’m still feeling for Suki. She will not have a good time tonight.”

“You really underestimate Sokka, you know. He’ll be just fine. And so will she. Maybe a little exhausted because he’s going to be full of energy all night.”

“What about the hangover tomorrow?”

“They don’t live together.”

“Sounds like a technicality…”

“Meh”

With a look Zuko asked permission to try the Banana liquor and, with a look, you gave it to him. His face twisted in various amusing ways before nodding.

“Not what I expected. Gotta say it. But I think I may like it.”

“Take like, two more sips. You should be a fan after.”

He followed your instructions and grinned at you. “It is unique, I give you that.”

“You can always give me the bottle back.”

He kept it. What happened to it, you didn’t know but it never found it’s way back to you. Zuko either emptied it or he passed it on to someone. Not that you cared. Suki had reluctantly joined Sokka in his choreography and, surprisingly, so had Bian and Tuyet and some other Kyoshi sisters. Tuyet was pulling you from your seat to join. Toph pushed you off the chair and when all said and done you had been dancing stupid choreos of Sokka’s for about 80 minutes and missed Zuko leaving. Thus was created the mystery of the Banana liquor. 

The night ended late. It was early morning and the birds were chirping when you carried the last of the boards that had made up the bars to the van. It would be locked and collected tomorrow by some Psychology student. Haru offered his parents’ house as refuge for the night as a reward for helping to tidy up. You all had gladly agreed. Sokka was still singing 90’s anthems to entertain you all and you weren’t the only ones tidying up. It was rather fun, really.

When you arrived at the house you didn’t really take in the details. You were shown a room and fell into the bed, fast asleep before your head hit the pillow.

#atla fanfic #atla zuko #smau #avatar: tla #zuko x y/n #zuko x reader

[danyka-fendyr]

Eight

Alright everyone, so this is just a little thing I made for @dreamwritesimagines writer’s block challenge. Because she is an absolute love, she let me write it about Matt Murdock rather than, say, literally any of the characters I was really supposed to write it about. I named it Eight because recently I’ve been getting a little into enneagrams because Sleeping at Last released an amazing album about them and I feel like Matt would be an 8. So many of the lyrics on track 8 describe Matt to me. It’s a bit short, but that’s because I still have homework to do, lol. I hope you guys like it! Dream was kind enough to let me use the prompts, “We’re not together, we’re bros- I’m gonna be his best woman at his wedding. “ and “You? You’re my superhero crush?” I love her brain, and I love her stories, so I feel very lucky to get to make this. Thanks so much Dream!

Warnings: None because for once in my life I’m not murdering anybody. Really just some pg-13 action type stuff.

Wordcount: 1864

I'm standing guard, I'm falling apart And all I want is to trust you Show me how to lay my sword down For long enough to let you through

-Sleeping at Last, Eight

Matt Murdock was undoubtedly a complicated man in every sense of the word. He usually looked like he had fallen asleep in an iron maiden, and not the band, he left at the most inconvenient times, and he slept with more women than one could reasonably count on both hands.

You were very unsure why you were friends with him. Frankly, it seemed like a terrible idea. You were definitely not the kind of person who found yourself friends with an insane person.

“I would disagree with that.” Matt interrupted you.

“Hey! I was trying to inner monologue.”

“Yeah, well, you were outer monologuing.”

“Not the first time.” You sighed, leaning forward on his couch to touch your toes.

“I can’t see what you’re doing but I can tell it’s dumb.”

“You’re so mean to me.” 

In spite of that, you sat back up, rolling over to lay your head in his lap. Matt didn’t have to think before sinking his hands into your hair, playing with it. You sighed, closing your eyes against the glow of the neon lights swimming across the walls of his otherwise dark apartment.

“You really have the worst view, you know that?”

You could hear Matt smile. “That’s not what you said the first time you saw it. You called it, ‘enchantingly urban,’ as I recall.”

“That was for your benefit. It’s crap.” You opened your eyes again so you could glare at him accusingly. 

“If it’s so bad then why do you crash on my couch so often?”

“Because my roommate, though I love her dearly, snores like Mr. Snuffleupagus if he was dying.”

“Big Bird’s got a gun,” Matt sing-songed.

“Was that even a thing when you were in school or is this just another result of the creepy amount of time you spend with children.”

“A. It is not creepy. I just happen to do a lot of pro bono work, and children just happen to usually be broke. B. I think you’re just asking that question because you’re trying to avoid the elephant in the room.”

“Wait, there’s an elephant in the room?” You sat up. “Matt, I think you’re seeing things. Oh wait...”

“That is really not as clever as you think it is.”

“Oh no, it is. And you love it.”

“Alright, you’ve got me there.”

“Seriously though. Is there an elephant in the room I just don’t know about? Because as far as I’m concerned we’re peachy.” You tucked your feet up under yourself, the material of Matt’s couch digging into your skin.

“The fact that you’ve been here, sleeping on my couch, almost every night this week.”

You frowned. “I thought you said you liked having me around.”

“I do. But having you around this much sometimes interferes with my...social life.”

“Oh, ew! Too much information, Matthew!” You recoiled, putting your hands over your ears.

You and Matt had been friends for roughly forever. Okay, so it hadn’t been that long. It had been a few years though. In the timeline of Significant Matt Life Events, you had met him pre-Karen Paige, post-Foggy Nelson. It had been a match made in heaven when you accidentally walked into him and he, with all the snark in the world, had asked you how you had managed to bump into him even though he was the blind one. He thought he was funny, but you weren’t as amused. Foggy asked you for your phone number, one bad date lead to a great friendship, and the rest was history.

“The elephant in the room is Foggy’s new girlfriend.”

“Um...I think she might take offense to that, Matt. Like, a lot of offense.”

If he looked about 2 inches to his left he would be glaring right at you.

“No seriously. I don’t get what you’re trying to get at here, Matty.”

“What I’m trying to say is that Foggy hasn’t dated anyone since you. I was just wondering...how you felt about that.”

It was at this point in time that you started dying laughing. It wasn’t really that funny, but in a way, it was. You? Heartbroken over Foggy Nelson, a man you had gone on one date with once, years ago? Unlikely. You said as much.

“Okay.” Matt sounded oddly relieved. “I just wanted to make sure. They asked us to dinner tomorrow night, but I was prepared to make excuses for you.”

“Ooooh, dinner? Sounds perfect!” You gave Matt your toothiest smile, even though he couldn’t see it.

“I’m not paying for you.”

You punched him in the arm. “Meanie.”

Dinner with Matt and Foggy’s new girlfriend was an interesting affair. Not because Foggy’s new girlfriend wasn’t nice. She was! She just also mistakenly assumed you were on a double date. You weren’t!

“So, Matt,” she started, taking a sip of her drink. “Enough about Foggy and I. How long have you and Y/N been dating?”

Matt looked more surprised than he probably should have given that they had been asked this question a few times.

 “Us? Dating. No.” Matt laughed. “I think you misunderstood. Y/N and I are just friends.”

“Yeah. We’re not together, we’re bros- I’m gonna be his best woman at his wedding. “

“Oh, I’m so sorry. You two just seemed so comfortable with each other, and...” She glanced down to where Matt’s jacket lay over your shoulders, your fingers intertwined over the table from where you sat on the opposite side of the booth in the cozy little Italian restaurant you knew was run by one of Matt’s old clients.

Now, listen. You know what it looked like. But there was a very simple explanation for all of this. You had gotten cold outside, Matt was a gentleman, your hands were also cold by proxy, you liked hand-holding, you liked Matt- Okay. So you liked Matt. Was that a crime?

That being said, it was none of anybody’s business.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. Truth is, I’m already taken,” you said.

“Oh?” She seemed very surprised by that.

“Yeah. Daredevil has my heart. I love me a vigilante with a good butt.”

Foggy snorted. He was always very very amused by your innocent crush on Daredevil. You could never tell why, but you just assumed it was because he had a great sense of humor, even though he was rarely so entertained by your other jokes.

“You could say he’s a handsome devil,” Foggy chimed in.

“Ha! That’s a good one.” You grinned.

The night carried on in much the same way, though Foggy’s date seemed a little perplexed by the dynamic between you and Matt. You were pretty sure that at some point she went back to assuming you two were dating just because it was easier for her to handle. You couldn’t blame the poor girl. Even you got confused sometimes by the fact that you were not-dating Matthew Murdock. Matt liked to keep things confusing.

By the time you stumbled back to Matt’s apartment, you could barely keep your eyes open. You were a night owl, admittedly, but a night out on the town always left you feeling drained. Accordingly, Matt agreed to let you stay on his couch again. You could have loved him for that alone.

“Matt?” Your voice was quiet, hesitant as his keys jangled in the lock.

“Yes?” He opened the door, leading the two of you inside.

There is silence for a moment as you two shuffle your way inside, Matt’s cane tapping against the floor out of reflex. Your hands are still intertwined, and you don’t know how to say what you want to say next. You’re not even sure if you should say it.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure. Is something wrong?”

You take a shaky breath, stepping away from him and letting go of his hand. You can’t look at him right now, but that doesn’t really matter since he can’t tell the difference. You stare out his window instead, watching the neon signs buzz into the night.

“What would you say...if I told you I was a little bit in love with you?”

He doesn’t say anything, which in your mind is answer enough. Contrary to popular belief, you can actually take a hint. The message from Matt is loud and clear, ironic given all the silence surrounding you.

“I would say I’m glad I’m not the only one because I’m a little bit in love with you too.”

“You are?” You pivot to face him, eyes wide.

“Yes. I never wanted to say anything though, because I always thought you were still a little hung up over Foggy and...I don’t know. I date a lot of women and I didn’t want you to think you were just some passing phase or a replacement for someone or anything like that. I guess I just-”

You cut him off. You know it’s rude, but you can’t yourself. With greedy hands, you grab his face and press his mouth to your own.

Kissing Matt is a very physical experience. With him being blind, it’s like he’s trying to soak up as much of you as he can. Matt has all the prowess kissing you you would expect from a man with his experience, and it takes your breath away. His mouth moves against your own with an intensity you couldn’t have predicted, one hand tangling in your head. You feel his cane fall to the floor when the other hand wraps around your waist, pulling you flush against his body, skin on skin.

When you pull away, you can barely breathe, barely think. It is a rush to kiss Matt, and suddenly you have an idea of how he gets women into bed with him so easy. You would probably do anything he asked you to right now.

“I...If we’re going to do this, I have to tell you something,” he said.

“Yes. Anything.” Your eyes are still a little glassy.

“I’m the Daredevil.” He says it all in one go, spits it right out like he’s ripping off a band-aid.

There is a beat.

“You’re the what now?”

“I’m the-”

“No I heard you.” You pull yourself out of his arms, taking a step back in surprise. “You....You? You’re my superhero crush?”

“Yeah...sorry about that. I would have told you sooner, but I was afraid you would get hurt if you knew, but if we’re going to do this for real you have to know. I don’t want someone coming after you and having you be unprepared and-”

“Oh my gosh is that why Foggy thought all of my Daredevil comments were so funny?” You screeched.

“Yes, probably, but I don’t think you’re listening to me right now-”

“I can’t believe this! I just totally made out with my superhero crush. You felt me up!”

Matt sighed. At a certain point, he always realized he was never going to get through to you.

“Want to do it again?” He offered.

“Heck yeah!”

So you did. And that’s the story of how you somehow ended up dating your superhero crush. Who knew? Dreams really do come true.

#dreamwritesimagines #dream's writer's block challenge #prompt #matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #daredevilxreader #daredevil x reader #daredevil: ff #daredevil fanfiction #foggy nelson #karen paige

[princess--catherine]

Maybe y’all will hate me for this, I’m all for women’s rights and the Me Too movement but has it maybe taken a turn it shouldn’t have? I can already feel the hatred

Just in the past couple weeks I’ve seen at least 3 “predators/rapists exposed”, and after looking into it I saw no predatory behavior to expose that was given. And people are losing their shit over this “cancelation?” The evidence for this one? “Had a minor backstage”...you think that didn’t and doesn’t currently happen with idk, every Disney star EVER and boy band on the radio? I’m sure a portion of Billie Eilish fans who’s parents buy backstage passes are REAL young, is she cancelled too? Since when does having a minor in your presence = any type of sexual behavior? This allegation causally mentions “backstage minor” and quickly moves to “predator” with no cohesion there. Since when does an adult simply being around a minor automatically make you guilty of doing sick shit? The “evidence” shown was pretty pathetic: cropped and blocked out texts with no name as to who it’s from, no name but said star predator, no time stamp or date, no pics, no voice memos, no emails, no proof of any kind that there was any truth to the claims, no detail, no real allegation actually even made from what I saw. Unless the “so and so did this” part was in invisible ink. I could literally google the date of a ‘insert famous person here’ concert or general tour dates, and do the same with a texting app or with someone else’s phone. This is an Accusation on someone of a serious sex crime on the sole basis maybe 5 texts, some of which are hidden, and ALL of which are anonymous, detail no criminal activity, are never worth ending or attempting to make sure someone’s career over.

Another one I saw was an explanation that another social media person made a somewhat crude comment/gusture towards a woman he knew but wasn’t super familiar with. One time, no actual touching. He was later told by a friend “not cool, other lady friend did not like”, he did as he should have and apologized, and it didn’t happen again- admittedly on both sides. The two girls told him everything was cool and okay, no harm no foul, don’t worry about it. It didn’t happen again and the friendship continued. Days later, “evidence” comes out from one of them citing him as a sexual predator for this situation. This incident. Yeah, it’s not cool to get in peoples space or compliment them in certain ways if your friendship is not on that level and it hasn’t been established. That I agree with, that it simply wasn’t very polite, but a) no one was actually touched physically in anyway and b) the “crude” comment from my understanding was about an outfit fitting her well or being firm fitting. Yeah, that might make ya feel a lil icky, but there was no sexual suggestion or threat. There’s a huge difference between unwanted attention and sexual harassment. Someone else later gets involved but says she’s “not comfortable/willing to discuss” but still insists he’s a predator but doesn’t show a single shred of any involvement or information. If I was these people being falsely accused, getting death treats and doxxed, and ultimately, “cancelled”/therefore loss of income possibly long term , with basically no evidence or someone saying shit like “yes, that’s a predator. Nobody gets to know why I’m saying that though. I don’t want to relive it, my bad. You horrible people need to stop supporting this sex offender!” I’d be sueing the shit out of someone and everyone for slander. Like this is unreal to me. It really blows my mind.

Before you message me hateful shit, hear me out. I’m not saying these guys are stand up, amazing, perfectly well behaved dudes. I’m not saying they’ve never done anything predatory or wrong before in their lives or careers. Lord knows narcissistic and higher than thou types run entertainment. I’m sure they all got their attitude and behavioral problems. I’m just saying the info I just read and described is almost nothing being real generous, no rational person sees that and labels someone a sex offender. You’re accusing someone of a very serious crime, in a lot of cases a fat ole felony, being a RSO list sometimes for a lifetime. Bill Cosby? Deserve it. Weinstien? Deserve it. Epstein? Deserved to be under the jail. I understand there’s not always physical evidence, or maybe there’s not enough to build a case/a case is unwanted by victim. Some say they want people to know and be warned. If that’s what you truly want, you truly truly are trying to protect others, go in 150%. Everything you got. But when this person publicly and openly calling someone out by name for being a “rapist/sexual predator”, absolutely dragging them thru the mud, and the reasoning, the justification for this is that he was dating other women? nah sis. That’s not how this works, getting played, while scummy, is NOT RAPE/SEXUAL ASSAULT/etc. (*this is excluding things that don’t apply to this particular story like recanting consent or knowingly passing on an STI) So sure, he’s a probably a POS, clearly unloyal, he’s maybe learned the art of sweet talkin his way into this one way monogamous relationship, and I frankly wouldnt feel bad if one of those girls who got played popped 3 of his tires, bought a fuck ton of spiders and sneak them into his bedroom or something. But not jail or prison. What he did (unless other info comes out) isn’t something to be uplifted or encouraged, it’s poor, unfair behavior. But what he did is not CRIMINAL. It’s just shitty and inconsiderate. And I know y’all are reading this thinkin “fuck this bitch”, making assumptions before you read a fraction of what I’m saying.

So let me explain a situation I was accidentally involved in a few years ago with someone who was “famous” around those parts and had lots of fans and groupies. Let’s call him “Lee”. Long story short, a friend and I were with him and different other people basically from like 8-9 pm to around 4 am. He was alone (out of my sight) only 3 times: once to use the bathroom at my friends before leaving, once in the men’s bathroom at a club, and for maybe 5 minutes when I had to change at my friends place before going back over. They lived in the same complex and stuff so it was basically throwing on some sweats and taking an elevator down. We hangout, drink, smoke, talk. Lowkey, chill.

I wake up the next day, someone texted me this link about “Lee” raping a girl. I’m thinking “holy shit, that’s scary and insane, we were just with him last night drinking and shit.” Keep reading...it says it was the night before. Same date we were with him. And the time the assault supposedly took place was when we had come back to his place, where other people were already there, we were sitting there forever talking/whatever, this girl who pointed the finger was not even in the room and left before we did. She poked her head in once and asked where Lee’s roommate was. He told her cookout, it’s late so it’ll be a minute. Asked her if she wanted to hang out with us. She declined. So I figured maybe this info was wrong somehow and at the time I wasn’t making the connection between that girl and this story. I was like, no way a girl would lie about that of all things and especially knowing it’d likely get picked up by the local media, or at least local gossip. Her life here would be over. My friend and I decided to go talk to the police even though I avoid the damn police at all costs. The first thing I asked this officer was: “are you POSITIVE this is the date, place, and time, and are you POSITIVE “Lee” is who she is accusing?” And I asked that mostly because I was not about to defend or vouch for someone about a situation I wasn’t present for. Also, I wasn’t the biggest fan of “Lee”, so I sure as shit I wasn’t getting myself involved and going to bat for him without knowing it’s right. The Officer was very adamant that all that info was correct, victim was very sure. I explained to him everything I explained above, but I’m sure in better detail and included texts, pics, videos all with times, plus receipts showing how this isn’t adding up. He wasn’t alone the entire night and early morning. Officer ask me if she (the victim) was visiting a roommate of Lee’s, if they were sleeping together during her visit, I told him the truth which was that I didn’t really know for sure but it was a possibility. He told me somebody else had claimed she was no longer welcome for unknown reasons and believed this to be be related. I explain to the officer that I won’t speak on her time with the roommate because I saw her only long enough for her to ask a question and respond to another. Before she peeped out the door, I had no clue anyone was in there. I said I think she told me her name but I’m awful with names even sober so. He started getting kinda hostile and cutting me short. I repeated exactly what I told him the first time: I’m only speaking on what I witnessed and what I know to be true. So, if you and she are correctly reciting the time, place, person being accused, this accusation is untrue. He first makes a bitchy threat like “you know these girls who lie for these athlete boys can really get in trouble? They all end up broke after the NFL anyway if they even make it. Lying for a friend is illegal, that’s breaking the law and will get YOU in jail.” I lost all my fear of speaking to a police officer at this point because they KNOW this man did not just call me a liar to my face despite my 1:2 of the evidence already fucking up this accusation. I told him that I honestly wasn’t a fan either professionally or personally of “Lee” and I would lie for no one regardless of friendship or status about this, I’d turn in my own flesh and bloood brother and sing like a bird if I caught him doing any sex offender shit. So again, I told this slow man with 2 braincelle this was the reason I asked about how sure he was and he believed the victim was, on the time, place, person, etc. Officer says something along the lines of “well, something happened to this girl and this boy’s gonna be hurtin for it. Someone’s getting charged here.” Which I dunno bout y’all, maybe I’m reading it wrong. But What I gathered from that is: “I’ve decided to be judge and jury in this situation and moreorless declare this young man guilty despite evidence in front of my own eyeballs that shows that there is a good chance the accused is innocent.

I have no idea why this happened. But after we spoke to that dickhead cop it was dropped relatively quickly. I don’t remember now if she pulled the charges herself or the state denied to prosecute. And even still, this followed him. The internet is forever. When his great grandkids google his college career, that will show up. Please keep in mind this was a black athlete, playing ball for a big college in the south, with a white girl accuser, all the cops I saw at that station were white in the short time I was there and at least the one I spoke to had his mind made up. He was loud and clear about that. He said basically the same to my friend who was interviewed separately, that he was determined to convict him, he was “the one”. This city I’m speaking of has been sued for police brutality against BPOC and I’ve heard my friends/classmates getting called the N word (hard ER) in the broad, open day light. So yeah add that info in with the rest and come to your own conclusion.

Before anyone comes for my throat again: idk exactly what DID happen but I know what DID NOT. Which to be clear, is pretty specifically: this rape with this person, did not happen here and at this time. So I’m not saying something didn’t happen but under different circumstances. I know trauma can mess with memories and if something did happen under different circumstances, I am so sorry that happened to her, I wouldn’t wish sexual assault on my worst enemy. I’m also not saying she necessarily had ill intentions or knew it would proceed and go viral as it did. The point is I just don’t know, no clue. Not throwing any blame or shade her way, all blame and shade on that cop though. ACABs, no excuse for his ass.

Anyway, y’all don’t gotta believe this since it’s been a few years and I highly doubt that stuff is anywhere in my phone like 4 iPhones and two laptops later. No reason to front, I don’t gain anything by lying but a guilty conscience. But this scenario that I btw, very much did not wish to be a part of, showed me another side of things. Can we agree to yes of course, trust and support women but also trust evidence and testimony? While, yes, stats show few women lie about this, can we at the same time understand questioning and thoroughly investigating such a heinous crime? Can we also recognize the system is literally built to “serve & protect” some by severely and systematically oppressing others? There are people, too many damn people, who have lost absolutely everything, served major time in big boy maximum security 23-1s, and have been put to death, based on biases and little to no evidence.

Next time you see an accusation, regardless of what it is, please do a little research. Make your own conclusion. Put yourself in their shoes, would you want to be “convicted” (either legally or through SM bullshit) on a snip it of convo with almost no information/context? Called a rapist cause you led someone on? No. You wouldn’t. Actually for any crime for that matter. You would reasonably ask and expect for it to be fair, two sided, and with as much evidence or info as possible. So let’s treat musicians, athletes, influencers, celebs the same way. Let’s not condemn before gathering as much information as possible. If not, I am so afraid we will drive an innocent person to suicide. We would all feel so guilty if someone was driven to suicide over false or misleading statements. Let’s avoid this, please.

#2020 #people aint gon like this one #assault #SA #metoo #accusations #incarceration #also most importantly ACABs

[airoasis]

How to stop screwing yourself over | Mel Robbins | TEDxSF

New Post has been published on https://hititem.kr/how-to-stop-screwing-yourself-over-mel-robbins-tedxsf-4/

How to stop screwing yourself over | Mel Robbins | TEDxSF

Translator: Judith Matz Reviewer: Tatjana Jevdjic higher welcome! Hi there, San Francisco! TEDx oh my God, blinding gentle! Hi, everyone! How are you? (audience cheering) excellent?! Oh my gosh! K, so… My title is Mel Robbins, and for the last seventeen years, i’ve done nothing however support folks get the whole lot that they want. Inside motive! My husband’s right here. So, I’ve performed it within the court docket, in the boardroom, in the bedroom, in persons’s dwelling room, some thing room you want to be in, if i am there, i will help you get something you want by any means fundamental. For the final three years I host a syndicated radio exhibit. Five days a week, i go are living in forty cities and that i talk to guys and females throughout america who feel stuck.Have you learnt that a third of american citizens feel upset with their lives correct now? That is a hundred million persons! That’s insane! And i have come face to face with it on this new show that i am doing, which is also insane, it can be referred to as "In-laws". I transfer in with families across the usa (Laughter) You guessed it! Who are at battle with their in-laws. We transfer them into the equal residence, I verbally assassinate everybody, we open up Pandora’s box, and that i get men and women to discontinue arguing in regards to the donuts and who is webhosting Thanksgiving dinner, and talk about the actual stuff. And that’s what I need to talk to you about. I am right here for you. I’ll tell you the whole thing i know in not up to eighteen minutes about tips on how to get what you need. So i would like you to take a millisecond right now and feel about what you want.You! And i want you to be egocentric. Screw Simon and the "We" thing. This is about me, correct now! (Laughter) (Applause) Sorry, Simon. What do you need? And this is the deal. I don’t want it to sound good to other folks. Being healthful will not get your ass on a treadmill. Dropping your manboobs, so you could hook up with anyone, now that’s motivation. (Laughter) So, I wish to be aware of: What do you need? Do you wish to have to lose weight? Do you need to triple your income? Do you wish to have to a nonprofit? Do you need to seek out love? What is it? Get it, correct right here.You understand what it’s, do not analyze it to loss of life, simply select something. That’s a part of the quandary. You is not going to decide on. So, we will be speaking about the way you get what you want. And admittedly, getting what you need is modest. But notice I didn’t say it was easy. It’s very simple. Actually, if you feel about it, we reside in essentially the most amazing second in time. So that factor that you have up right here, some thing it usually is, you wish to have to make use of healthful consuming to remedy your diabetes, you need to determine how you can deal with the elders and begin a brand new hospice center, you want to move to Africa and build a school… Wager what? Which you could walk right into a ebook store correct now! And purchase as a minimum ten books written by using credentialed professionals on how the hell you do it.You could Google it. And also you could ordinarily to find as a minimum, I have no idea – a thousand blogs documenting the step, by means of step, by way of step transformation that anyone else is already doing. You can see any individual online and cyber-stalk them! (Laughter) which you could simply walk in their footsteps just use the science of drafting. Comply with what everybody else has achieved, due to the fact that an individual is already doing it! So why do not you’ve gotten what you need, when you have all the understanding that you need, you could have the contacts that you just need, there are almost always free instruments on-line that enable you to start a industry, or join a gaggle, or do some thing the heck you want!? It all comes down to 1 phrase: F*#.Shut the front door, you already know what i am talking about? The f-bomb. It’s everywhere! You hear it always! I honestly do not realise what the attraction is of the phrase. I imply, you do not sound wise while you say it. And it’s quite not expressing how you fairly consider. It’s style of a inexpensive shot to take. And of direction you already know i am speaking concerning the phrase "exceptional". "how you doing?" "Oh, i am high-quality." Oh, relatively? You might be? Dragging round those further forty kilos, you are exceptional? Feeling like roommates together with your partner, and you’re nice? You haven’t had sex in four months, you are pleasant? Quite?! I don’t think so! But see, here’s the take care of pronouncing that you’re exceptional: it is without a doubt genius.Given that if you are best, you do not have to do whatever about it. However when you feel about this phrase "high-quality", it just makes me so indignant. Right here we’re at a convention about being alive and you are going to explain the experience of being alive as "nice"?! What a flimsy and feeble phrase! If you’re crappy, say you are crappy! If you’re amazing say you are potent! Tell the truth! And this not simplest goes for the social construct: "Oh, i don’t wish to burden you with the truth that I hate my life", or: "hiya, i am mighty! However that may make you consider terrible." The greater drawback The bigger limitation with "quality" is that you simply say it to your self. That thing that you wish to have, I warranty you, you’ve convinced your self that you’re quality no longer having it. That is why you’re no longer pushing your self. It is the areas on your life the place you have got given up. The place you’ve gotten mentioned, "Oh, i’m nice. My mother’s in no way going to change, so I just are not able to have that dialog." "i am best.We now have got to attend until the kids graduate, earlier than we get divorced, so we’ll just sleep in separate bedrooms." "i am fine. I lost my job, i can barely pay my expenditures, but some thing it’s rough to get a job." probably the most explanations why this phrase also just annoys me so much is, scientists have calculated Oh yeah, i’m coming down! (Laughter) Scientists have calculated the odds of you being born. That is proper. They’ve crunched the numbers. I see you up there. They’ve crunched the numbers on you Yeah, you guys standing up, you want to sit down down for this.They’ve crunched the numbers on you being born. They usually took under consideration the entire wars, and the average mess ups, and the dinosaurs, and everything else. And do you realise that the chances, the chances of you, yeah, proper here, put your laptop away, get up for me, Doug! (Laughter) So the chances of Doug right here, flip round, say "hi" to all people the percentages of Doug being born at the moment in time he was born, to the dad and mom you had been born to, with the DNA constitution that you’ve, one in 4 hundred trillion! Is not that effective? Doug: i’m so lucky! Mel: yes! You’re not pleasant, you are awesome! You might have life-changing suggestions for a cause, and it’s to not torture yourself. Thanks. Thank you, Doug. (Applause) Christine used to be correct when she mentioned all of you might be on stage.Because all of you we’re all in this category. One in 4 hundred trillion. All day long you’ve ideas that would trade your life, that would alternate the world, that might change the way that you simply believe, and what do you do with them? Nothing! (Grunts) expectantly I is not going to moon you. (Laughter) You did not pay for that. (Laughter) And i need you to only consider for a minute, when you consider that we all have i really like to use the analogy "the interior snooze button" you have these effective strategies that bubble up.You’ve got been gazing men and women all day and that i assurance you, like ping pong balls bam-bam-bam and everytime you have an thought, what do you do? Hit the snooze! What’s the first selection you made this morning? I bet it used to be to go back to bed. "Yeah, first determination at present, i’m one in 4 hundred trillion, i go to go back to sleep." and that i get it! Your mattress is relaxed! It can be cosy, it can be heat! If you’re fortunate, you have got received someone that you just love subsequent to you, or in my case, I’ve acquired my husband and my two kids and possibly the dog. And the motive why i am citing this first resolution that you just made at present, and the internal snooze alarm, is considering the fact that in any discipline of your life that you want to alter, any there’s one reality that you just have got to comprehend.This one: you’re on no account going to suppose like it. Ever. No one’s coming, motivation isn’t happening, you’re not ever going to believe find it irresistible. Scientists call it activation vigor. That’s what they name the force required to get you to alter from what you are doing on autopilot to do something new. So try this test the following day. You consider you are so fancy, i know, you are attending TED. (Laughter) try this. The following day morning, set your alarm for thirty minutes earlier. After which when it goes off, take those sheets, throw them off, and get up and your day. No snooze, no prolong, no, "i’ll just wait here for five seconds on account that Mel’s now not standing here" Do it. And the motive why i would like you to do it’s because you will come face to face with the bodily, and i imply bodily force that’s required to alter your behavior. Do you consider that an individual who wants to shed some pounds ever appears like going on a diet? Of path no longer! You think they ever feel like eating boiled hen and peas as a substitute of a croissant? I do not suppose so! The activation vigor required to get your ass away from your computer and out the entrance door, to go on the stroll, you mentioned that you had been going to go on, is the designated same quantity of drive that it takes you to push yourself out of a heat bed and into a bloodless room.What’s exciting about being an adult is that whilst you emerge as eighteen, nobody tells you that it can be now going to be your job to father or mother yourself. And by means of "guardian yourself", I mean it’s your job to make yourself do the crap you do not want to do, so you could be the whole lot that you are supposed to be. And you are so rattling busy ready to suppose find it irresistible. And you��re by no means going to! My son by no means seems like getting off his DS. That’s my job! Get off the rattling DS! Kendall, easy up the Barbies! If you’re going to have a nude party in my rest room, as a minimum smooth it up! (Laughter) God, chew together with your mouth closed! We’re not a barn, for crying out loud! Very well, dinner is coming, get out of the pantry. As father and mother, and also you were a kid, your parents make you do the things you don’t suppose like doing.Considering that you will not. Ever. Not now, not then, no longer ever! And even while you get just right at something, you’ll work out whatever else you do not need to do. And then you’ll plateau out, lose interest, "I hate this job. Blah blah boring." but will you seem for a brand new one? No! You’ll be able to simply bitch about that one. It’s very, quite simple to get what you need. But it surely’s not convenient. You have got to drive yourself. And i mean force. And the purpose why i take advantage of the phrase "force" when Roz was once up here and talking concerning the emotion monitoring, and she had the picture of two aspects of the mind I appear on the mind the designated same manner. Best I describe one part of your mind as autopilot and the other aspect as emergency brake. That is the only two speeds you get: autopilot, emergency brake. And wager which one your brain likes better: autopilot. You’ve had the expertise the place you may have pushed to work and also you get there and you are like, "Oh my God, i don’t don’t forget ever driving right here." (Laughter) you were not drunk! That was your brain on autopilot. It was functioning just at this level. And the challenge with your mind is that anytime you do anything that is distinct out of your traditional pursuits, guess what your brain does emergency brake! And it has that response for everything. The whole thing! You walk into the kitchen and see each person’s left their breakfast dishes for you.And you feel for the hundredth time, "i will kill them. Actually i am gonna depart it here and i’ll make them do it." but that’s no longer your typical pursuits, is it? So your mind goes: emergency brake! And you go proper into autopilot. "i will just load it, and be pissed, after which not have intercourse. That’s what i’ll do." (Laughter) (Applause) So, once I say "force", something that’s a spoil out of your pursuits is going to require force. And should you think about your existence, it is form of humorous seeing that we’re kids and then we become adults, and we spend so much time trying to push our life into some style of stable movements, and then we develop bored of it! You get up at the same time day-to-day, you’ve got mostly the same breakfast, you drive to work the equal way, show up at work, seem busy, prevent making calls, replace facebook, you attend a assembly and doodle the entire time, go back and replace facebook, make plans for the evening, you seem busy some extra, then pressure home the equal manner, you devour mostly the equal dinner or a kind of it, you watch the equal form of media, and then you definately go to mattress, and do the same thing in every single place once more! No surprise you’re bored out of your mind! It can be the activities that is killing you.I have this thought about why individuals get caught in existence. So, most of you might have more commonly taken your normal Psych 101 category, and you may have bumped into Abraham Maslow’s "Hierarchy of wants"? Good, your body is kinda cool. Because you could have these normal desires. And your body is wired to ship you signals. If you would like meals, what do you believe? If you want water, what do you suppose? If you would like intercourse, what do you consider? (Laughter) thanks. I consider whilst you believe stuck or disenchanted in your lifestyles, it is a sign. And it’s now not a sign that your life is broken. It is a sign that considered one of your most simple wishes aren’t being met. Your want for exploration. The whole lot about your existence, about your body, grows! Your cells regenerate, your hair, your nails, the whole lot grows in your whole existence. And your soul wishes exploration and development. And the one method you can get it’s with the aid of forcing yourself to be uncomfortable. Forcing yourself to get outside, out of your head. Thanks. If you are in your head, you are in the back of enemy lines. That is not God speakme, okay? It’s not! In fact, if I put a speaker on it and we broadcast what you say to yourself, we would institutionalize you. (Laughter) you wouldn’t hang out with persons that speak to you the way in which you speak to your self.So get out of your head! Your feelings! Your feelings are screwing you! I don’t care the way you believe! I care about what you need! And in the event you take heed to the way you feel, when it comes to what you need you are going to no longer get it. Seeing that you are going to never think find it irresistible. And also you have got to get external your alleviation zone. It is no longer about taking dangers, it can be about getting outside your remedy zone. Those first three seconds whilst you push your self off the bed, they blow. But once you’re up, it can be best. Those first three seconds when you are sitting here in a stadium like this and an individual says, "stand up and come dance," and you think, "Oh, I should do that," after which you’re like, "Uhmm." that experience that you simply had while you had the impulse to do it and then you definately failed to do the activation vigour required to drive your self, your emergency brake received pulled "i’m sitting proper here. I am no longer going up with those crazy men and women, i don’t like to bounce…" What happened for me is I came up, and i ran into Rachel, after which we began speaking, and next factor you realize, she’s tweeting.And we’re associates. And boom! Get outside. That’s where the magic is. That’s the place the one in four hundred trillion exists. So the whole lot I do oh, ok, that is the final phase. Sorry. So an extra factor that you should utilize, I call it the 5-second-rule. Your mind can method a facial features in 33 milliseconds. It may transfer pretty damn speedy. The other thing that it does very rapidly is you probably have a kind of little impulses which might be pulling you, when you do not marry it with an motion inside 5 seconds, you pull the emergency brake and kill the idea. Kill it! In case you have the impulse to get up and are available dance whilst the band is playing, when you do not rise up in five seconds, you are going to drag the emergency brake. If in case you have an impulse about, you have been stimulated through a person’s speech today, and you don’t do anything inside five seconds write a observe, ship yourself a text anything bodily to marry it with the suggestion, you’ll pull the emergency brake and kill the inspiration.Your problem is not recommendations. Your situation is you don’t act on them. You kill them. It is no longer my fault. It is not any person’s fault. You’re doing it to yourself. Stop it! I am depending on you. One in four hundred trillion. You received stuff to do! And it is now not going to happen for your head. So i would like you to observe this in these days. Once we go off to party, thank God it can be coming soon, since I think we all might use a cocktail, i want you to observe the 5-second-rule. You see anyone and also you consider you could have an impulse, they seem exciting? Stroll over there! You were encouraged by somebody and you’ve got a request? Make it! That is why you’re here! Test with it, and i think you can be shocked about what happens. And one more thing, i would like you to grasp that the whole thing that I do, whether or not it is the radio show, or the television exhibit, or the booklet that I wrote, or the column, it can be for you.And if there’s something that i will do, if i can do some thing to make you do the things you do not need to do, so that you would be able to have what you wish to have, i’ll do it. However you have got to walk over, you have to open your mouth, and also you have to make the request. You received it? Good. Go do it. (Applause) thanks! Thanks, yes! Rise up! You’ve got the impulse, stand up! Thank you! .

#TED #ted talk #ted talks #TED X #tedx #TEDx San Francisco #tedx talk #tedx talks #TEDxSF

[batterymonster2021]

How to stop screwing yourself over | Mel Robbins | TEDxSF

New Post has been published on https://hititem.kr/how-to-stop-screwing-yourself-over-mel-robbins-tedxsf-4/

How to stop screwing yourself over | Mel Robbins | TEDxSF

Translator: Judith Matz Reviewer: Tatjana Jevdjic higher welcome! Hi there, San Francisco! TEDx oh my God, blinding gentle! Hi, everyone! How are you? (audience cheering) excellent?! Oh my gosh! K, so… My title is Mel Robbins, and for the last seventeen years, i’ve done nothing however support folks get the whole lot that they want. Inside motive! My husband’s right here. So, I’ve performed it within the court docket, in the boardroom, in the bedroom, in persons’s dwelling room, some thing room you want to be in, if i am there, i will help you get something you want by any means fundamental. For the final three years I host a syndicated radio exhibit. Five days a week, i go are living in forty cities and that i talk to guys and females throughout america who feel stuck.Have you learnt that a third of american citizens feel upset with their lives correct now? That is a hundred million persons! That’s insane! And i have come face to face with it on this new show that i am doing, which is also insane, it can be referred to as "In-laws". I transfer in with families across the usa (Laughter) You guessed it! Who are at battle with their in-laws. We transfer them into the equal residence, I verbally assassinate everybody, we open up Pandora’s box, and that i get men and women to discontinue arguing in regards to the donuts and who is webhosting Thanksgiving dinner, and talk about the actual stuff. And that’s what I need to talk to you about. I am right here for you. I’ll tell you the whole thing i know in not up to eighteen minutes about tips on how to get what you need. So i would like you to take a millisecond right now and feel about what you want.You! And i want you to be egocentric. Screw Simon and the "We" thing. This is about me, correct now! (Laughter) (Applause) Sorry, Simon. What do you need? And this is the deal. I don’t want it to sound good to other folks. Being healthful will not get your ass on a treadmill. Dropping your manboobs, so you could hook up with anyone, now that’s motivation. (Laughter) So, I wish to be aware of: What do you need? Do you wish to have to lose weight? Do you need to triple your income? Do you wish to have to a nonprofit? Do you need to seek out love? What is it? Get it, correct right here.You understand what it’s, do not analyze it to loss of life, simply select something. That’s a part of the quandary. You is not going to decide on. So, we will be speaking about the way you get what you want. And admittedly, getting what you need is modest. But notice I didn’t say it was easy. It’s very simple. Actually, if you feel about it, we reside in essentially the most amazing second in time. So that factor that you have up right here, some thing it usually is, you wish to have to make use of healthful consuming to remedy your diabetes, you need to determine how you can deal with the elders and begin a brand new hospice center, you want to move to Africa and build a school… Wager what? Which you could walk right into a ebook store correct now! And purchase as a minimum ten books written by using credentialed professionals on how the hell you do it.You could Google it. And also you could ordinarily to find as a minimum, I have no idea – a thousand blogs documenting the step, by means of step, by way of step transformation that anyone else is already doing. You can see any individual online and cyber-stalk them! (Laughter) which you could simply walk in their footsteps just use the science of drafting. Comply with what everybody else has achieved, due to the fact that an individual is already doing it! So why do not you’ve gotten what you need, when you have all the understanding that you need, you could have the contacts that you just need, there are almost always free instruments on-line that enable you to start a industry, or join a gaggle, or do some thing the heck you want!? It all comes down to 1 phrase: F*#.Shut the front door, you already know what i am talking about? The f-bomb. It’s everywhere! You hear it always! I honestly do not realise what the attraction is of the phrase. I imply, you do not sound wise while you say it. And it’s quite not expressing how you fairly consider. It’s style of a inexpensive shot to take. And of direction you already know i am speaking concerning the phrase "exceptional". "how you doing?" "Oh, i am high-quality." Oh, relatively? You might be? Dragging round those further forty kilos, you are exceptional? Feeling like roommates together with your partner, and you’re nice? You haven’t had sex in four months, you are pleasant? Quite?! I don’t think so! But see, here’s the take care of pronouncing that you’re exceptional: it is without a doubt genius.Given that if you are best, you do not have to do whatever about it. However when you feel about this phrase "high-quality", it just makes me so indignant. Right here we’re at a convention about being alive and you are going to explain the experience of being alive as "nice"?! What a flimsy and feeble phrase! If you’re crappy, say you are crappy! If you’re amazing say you are potent! Tell the truth! And this not simplest goes for the social construct: "Oh, i don’t wish to burden you with the truth that I hate my life", or: "hiya, i am mighty! However that may make you consider terrible." The greater drawback The bigger limitation with "quality" is that you simply say it to your self. That thing that you wish to have, I warranty you, you’ve convinced your self that you’re quality no longer having it. That is why you’re no longer pushing your self. It is the areas on your life the place you have got given up. The place you’ve gotten mentioned, "Oh, i’m nice. My mother’s in no way going to change, so I just are not able to have that dialog." "i am best.We now have got to attend until the kids graduate, earlier than we get divorced, so we’ll just sleep in separate bedrooms." "i am fine. I lost my job, i can barely pay my expenditures, but some thing it’s rough to get a job." probably the most explanations why this phrase also just annoys me so much is, scientists have calculated Oh yeah, i’m coming down! (Laughter) Scientists have calculated the odds of you being born. That is proper. They’ve crunched the numbers. I see you up there. They’ve crunched the numbers on you Yeah, you guys standing up, you want to sit down down for this.They’ve crunched the numbers on you being born. They usually took under consideration the entire wars, and the average mess ups, and the dinosaurs, and everything else. And do you realise that the chances, the chances of you, yeah, proper here, put your laptop away, get up for me, Doug! (Laughter) So the chances of Doug right here, flip round, say "hi" to all people the percentages of Doug being born at the moment in time he was born, to the dad and mom you had been born to, with the DNA constitution that you’ve, one in 4 hundred trillion! Is not that effective? Doug: i’m so lucky! Mel: yes! You’re not pleasant, you are awesome! You might have life-changing suggestions for a cause, and it’s to not torture yourself. Thanks. Thank you, Doug. (Applause) Christine used to be correct when she mentioned all of you might be on stage.Because all of you we’re all in this category. One in 4 hundred trillion. All day long you’ve ideas that would trade your life, that would alternate the world, that might change the way that you simply believe, and what do you do with them? Nothing! (Grunts) expectantly I is not going to moon you. (Laughter) You did not pay for that. (Laughter) And i need you to only consider for a minute, when you consider that we all have i really like to use the analogy "the interior snooze button" you have these effective strategies that bubble up.You’ve got been gazing men and women all day and that i assurance you, like ping pong balls bam-bam-bam and everytime you have an thought, what do you do? Hit the snooze! What’s the first selection you made this morning? I bet it used to be to go back to bed. "Yeah, first determination at present, i’m one in 4 hundred trillion, i go to go back to sleep." and that i get it! Your mattress is relaxed! It can be cosy, it can be heat! If you’re fortunate, you have got received someone that you just love subsequent to you, or in my case, I’ve acquired my husband and my two kids and possibly the dog. And the motive why i am citing this first resolution that you just made at present, and the internal snooze alarm, is considering the fact that in any discipline of your life that you want to alter, any there’s one reality that you just have got to comprehend.This one: you’re on no account going to suppose like it. Ever. No one’s coming, motivation isn’t happening, you’re not ever going to believe find it irresistible. Scientists call it activation vigor. That’s what they name the force required to get you to alter from what you are doing on autopilot to do something new. So try this test the following day. You consider you are so fancy, i know, you are attending TED. (Laughter) try this. The following day morning, set your alarm for thirty minutes earlier. After which when it goes off, take those sheets, throw them off, and get up and your day. No snooze, no prolong, no, "i’ll just wait here for five seconds on account that Mel’s now not standing here" Do it. And the motive why i would like you to do it’s because you will come face to face with the bodily, and i imply bodily force that’s required to alter your behavior. Do you consider that an individual who wants to shed some pounds ever appears like going on a diet? Of path no longer! You think they ever feel like eating boiled hen and peas as a substitute of a croissant? I do not suppose so! The activation vigor required to get your ass away from your computer and out the entrance door, to go on the stroll, you mentioned that you had been going to go on, is the designated same quantity of drive that it takes you to push yourself out of a heat bed and into a bloodless room.What’s exciting about being an adult is that whilst you emerge as eighteen, nobody tells you that it can be now going to be your job to father or mother yourself. And by means of "guardian yourself", I mean it’s your job to make yourself do the crap you do not want to do, so you could be the whole lot that you are supposed to be. And you are so rattling busy ready to suppose find it irresistible. And you’re by no means going to! My son by no means seems like getting off his DS. That’s my job! Get off the rattling DS! Kendall, easy up the Barbies! If you’re going to have a nude party in my rest room, as a minimum smooth it up! (Laughter) God, chew together with your mouth closed! We’re not a barn, for crying out loud! Very well, dinner is coming, get out of the pantry. As father and mother, and also you were a kid, your parents make you do the things you don’t suppose like doing.Considering that you will not. Ever. Not now, not then, no longer ever! And even while you get just right at something, you’ll work out whatever else you do not need to do. And then you’ll plateau out, lose interest, "I hate this job. Blah blah boring." but will you seem for a brand new one? No! You’ll be able to simply bitch about that one. It’s very, quite simple to get what you need. But it surely’s not convenient. You have got to drive yourself. And i mean force. And the purpose why i take advantage of the phrase "force" when Roz was once up here and talking concerning the emotion monitoring, and she had the picture of two aspects of the mind I appear on the mind the designated same manner. Best I describe one part of your mind as autopilot and the other aspect as emergency brake. That is the only two speeds you get: autopilot, emergency brake. And wager which one your brain likes better: autopilot. You’ve had the expertise the place you may have pushed to work and also you get there and you are like, "Oh my God, i don’t don’t forget ever driving right here." (Laughter) you were not drunk! That was your brain on autopilot. It was functioning just at this level. And the challenge with your mind is that anytime you do anything that is distinct out of your traditional pursuits, guess what your brain does emergency brake! And it has that response for everything. The whole thing! You walk into the kitchen and see each person’s left their breakfast dishes for you.And you feel for the hundredth time, "i will kill them. Actually i am gonna depart it here and i’ll make them do it." but that’s no longer your typical pursuits, is it? So your mind goes: emergency brake! And you go proper into autopilot. "i will just load it, and be pissed, after which not have intercourse. That’s what i’ll do." (Laughter) (Applause) So, once I say "force", something that’s a spoil out of your pursuits is going to require force. And should you think about your existence, it is form of humorous seeing that we’re kids and then we become adults, and we spend so much time trying to push our life into some style of stable movements, and then we develop bored of it! You get up at the same time day-to-day, you’ve got mostly the same breakfast, you drive to work the equal way, show up at work, seem busy, prevent making calls, replace facebook, you attend a assembly and doodle the entire time, go back and replace facebook, make plans for the evening, you seem busy some extra, then pressure home the equal manner, you devour mostly the equal dinner or a kind of it, you watch the equal form of media, and then you definately go to mattress, and do the same thing in every single place once more! No surprise you’re bored out of your mind! It can be the activities that is killing you.I have this thought about why individuals get caught in existence. So, most of you might have more commonly taken your normal Psych 101 category, and you may have bumped into Abraham Maslow’s "Hierarchy of wants"? Good, your body is kinda cool. Because you could have these normal desires. And your body is wired to ship you signals. If you would like meals, what do you believe? If you want water, what do you suppose? If you would like intercourse, what do you consider? (Laughter) thanks. I consider whilst you believe stuck or disenchanted in your lifestyles, it is a sign. And it’s now not a sign that your life is broken. It is a sign that considered one of your most simple wishes aren’t being met. Your want for exploration. The whole lot about your existence, about your body, grows! Your cells regenerate, your hair, your nails, the whole lot grows in your whole existence. And your soul wishes exploration and development. And the one method you can get it’s with the aid of forcing yourself to be uncomfortable. Forcing yourself to get outside, out of your head. Thanks. If you are in your head, you are in the back of enemy lines. That is not God speakme, okay? It’s not! In fact, if I put a speaker on it and we broadcast what you say to yourself, we would institutionalize you. (Laughter) you wouldn’t hang out with persons that speak to you the way in which you speak to your self.So get out of your head! Your feelings! Your feelings are screwing you! I don’t care the way you believe! I care about what you need! And in the event you take heed to the way you feel, when it comes to what you need you are going to no longer get it. Seeing that you are going to never think find it irresistible. And also you have got to get external your alleviation zone. It is no longer about taking dangers, it can be about getting outside your remedy zone. Those first three seconds whilst you push your self off the bed, they blow. But once you’re up, it can be best. Those first three seconds when you are sitting here in a stadium like this and an individual says, "stand up and come dance," and you think, "Oh, I should do that," after which you’re like, "Uhmm." that experience that you simply had while you had the impulse to do it and then you definately failed to do the activation vigour required to drive your self, your emergency brake received pulled "i’m sitting proper here. I am no longer going up with those crazy men and women, i don’t like to bounce…" What happened for me is I came up, and i ran into Rachel, after which we began speaking, and next factor you realize, she’s tweeting.And we’re associates. And boom! Get outside. That’s where the magic is. That’s the place the one in four hundred trillion exists. So the whole lot I do oh, ok, that is the final phase. Sorry. So an extra factor that you should utilize, I call it the 5-second-rule. Your mind can method a facial features in 33 milliseconds. It may transfer pretty damn speedy. The other thing that it does very rapidly is you probably have a kind of little impulses which might be pulling you, when you do not marry it with an motion inside 5 seconds, you pull the emergency brake and kill the idea. Kill it! In case you have the impulse to get up and are available dance whilst the band is playing, when you do not rise up in five seconds, you are going to drag the emergency brake. If in case you have an impulse about, you have been stimulated through a person’s speech today, and you don’t do anything inside five seconds write a observe, ship yourself a text anything bodily to marry it with the suggestion, you’ll pull the emergency brake and kill the inspiration.Your problem is not recommendations. Your situation is you don’t act on them. You kill them. It is no longer my fault. It is not any person’s fault. You’re doing it to yourself. Stop it! I am depending on you. One in four hundred trillion. You received stuff to do! And it is now not going to happen for your head. So i would like you to observe this in these days. Once we go off to party, thank God it can be coming soon, since I think we all might use a cocktail, i want you to observe the 5-second-rule. You see anyone and also you consider you could have an impulse, they seem exciting? Stroll over there! You were encouraged by somebody and you’ve got a request? Make it! That is why you’re here! Test with it, and i think you can be shocked about what happens. And one more thing, i would like you to grasp that the whole thing that I do, whether or not it is the radio show, or the television exhibit, or the booklet that I wrote, or the column, it can be for you.And if there’s something that i will do, if i can do some thing to make you do the things you do not need to do, so that you would be able to have what you wish to have, i’ll do it. However you have got to walk over, you have to open your mouth, and also you have to make the request. You received it? Good. Go do it. (Applause) thanks! Thanks, yes! Rise up! You’ve got the impulse, stand up! Thank you! .

#TED #ted talk #ted talks #TED X #tedx #TEDx San Francisco #tedx talk #tedx talks #TEDxSF

[ohmylissa]

9 years ago, I made a friend. He sat in front of me in chemistry, and was the only one who was nice the extremely awkward guy he sat next to. The whole class was friends, mostly because I went to an insanely small school and I was one of the only ones in the class who wasn't a part of the after school LA marathon training program. He had a not so secret crush on my friend, and started being nice to me as a way to get closer to her. Eventually, he and I became close and spent the next two years hanging out as much as possible. I usually got off work around the time practice got out, so I would give him a ride home from school a lot of the time which usually resulted in him having dinner with me and my family. My mom and sisters adored him, and he quickly became part of the family. He was my rock through break ups, friend fights, my parents divorce, and so much more. Looking back now, I have no idea what I did for him aside from the occasionally ride home and dinner. I leaned on him for everything, and never really had the chance to pay him back. A year ahead of me, he went off to college my senior year of high school and the world felt like a much lonelier place with him gone. Thankfully, his school was only an hour away, so I went to visit when I could and while he was obviously making new friends and changing to fit his new environment, but things between us were as easy as ever. He would still come visit my family, usually staying over, and made sure to be there for my little sister’s birthday and was the only one who was able to cheer her up when none of her friends showed up to her party. I moved away after I graduated, and while we didn’t see each other as much, we stayed in touch through texts and phone calls. His first serious girlfriend cheated on him and ended things and I helped him through it. My loser high school boyfriend strung me along and broke my heart yet again, and he was there for me through all of it. Whenever I came to visit my family in Southern California, we would get together for lunch or dinner or whatever we could make time for. I remember one time he had to get me from the airport, and I ended up staying with him because my mom’s house was too crowded with all my new step siblings. I was there over the weekend and on Sunday his grandparents came to take him to breakfast after church. He met them outside, so I took the morning to shower and get ready before going to spend the day with my family. He had let me stay in his room, sleeping on the couch himself, so when I got out of the shower I was walking down the hall to his room and was surprised to see his extremely catholic grandparents standing in his room, looking at my clothes lying on the floor and my towel dress and I introduced myself and tried to explain that I was just visiting for the weekend and that he had been kind enough to let me sleep in his bed while he slept on the couch. To make matters even worse, I had left a pack of cigarettes out on the kitchen counter, so I am now remembered as the smoker skank in the towel out to corrupt their grandson. 

After that visit we didn't see each other as much, it became too expensive to be constantly going back and forth to visit and he made some friends I wasn't very fond of. Nonetheless, when I moved back in with my mom in 2015, he was excited to hear it, and promised we would hang out all the time once I was back.

6 months after I’d moved back he finally remembered I existed and we went out to dinner, then I stayed over at his house after to get some space from my family. One of his new roommates was a guy we’d went to high school with who I had never particularly liked, but was forced to be nice to because well I wasn’t trying to be a bitch. Things seemed back to normal, until my mom made a passing comment about how he had always liked my so much. I had, probably obviously, always had feelings for him on some level, but had always ignored them, not wanting to make things awkward. But hearing that he had had feelings for me as well brought back a flood of memories of him telling me he loved me, how he was so glad to have me in his life, how he didn’t know what he’d do without me, complimenting me when he knew I’d taken time to do my hair or makeup, lingering hugs and glances, our recent conversation about hanging out New Years Eve and getting a midnight kiss, etc. Suddenly it all seemed so obvious. I pushed the feelings away, telling myself that things were finally normal again and it wasn’t worth it to shake things up. A few weeks later, I was visiting friends in Monterey and ran into a guy I had gone on a few dates with when I lived there. One thing led to another, and we wound up back at his apartment. We were making out pretty heavily, about to have sex, and suddenly it hit me that I didn't want to be there. I didn't want this cute boy who would no doubt treat be well and I could have a fun relationship with. I started to cry, and apologize, and cry some more and try to gather my clothes and explain that I had to go, and then realized I was in no state to drive and slept on his couch. I snuck out early the next morning and called my best friend to tell her what had happened and that I had decided it was time to come clean about my feelings.

I came home and asked if we could hang out, saying I needed grown up hang out time after spending too much time with my teenage chick fil a coworkers. We went on a booze run after I got there, and from there the night got fuzzy. I remember it in flashes, drinking beer, smoking hookah with his roommates, smoking cigarettes on the porch, drinking more, watching Borat, me complaining about how terrible Borat was, arguing about my idiot high school boyfriend, me yelling that I hated him for ruining my life and being told to be quiet because it was late. Somehow we end up kissing on his bed. Then more kissing. Then we're having sex. Then the next morning I look over and we’re both naked and I have no idea how it happened or what to do next. I put my dress back on and go outside to have a cigarette and call a friend, who of course doesn't answer because its 6am on a Sunday and normal people aren’t awake. I come back in and he’s in the shower, so I get my stuff together and get ready to leave. He comes back in and gets back into bed and we just lie there talking for a while and I’m so relieved because it seems like maybe everything is fine.

Two years later, and I haven’t seen him since that morning. I’ve reached out several times through call and text, and at first he would answer, but then disappear when I tried to make plans to hang out. I kept telling myself that if we could just hang out again, he would see that things could go back to normal and we could still be friends, but it just never happened. Admittedly, I could have handled things better. I texted more than I maybe should have, left at least one angry, emotional, drunken voicemail in which I professed my love for him and told him how horrible ditching me after what had happened was. But still. after so many years of being friends, I feel that we owed it to each other to at least try to fix things. Not that they necessarily even needed fixing.

Have you had your heart broken by your best friend? The one person you always thought would be there for you, no matter what? The person you opened up to and shared every single insecurity and broken piece of yourself with. The person who you looked up to and looked forward to. I began to second guess everything about our friendship, about myself, about my other friendships. I kept thinking, if I was so obviously wrong about this relationship, who's to say I’m not wrong about all my other relationships as well? Maybe nobody actually likes me, I’m just a means to an end and once they finally get what they want out of me, they’ll drop me too. I had one night stand after one night stand, telling myself that all these guys wanted me, who needed him? Thinking that if I could reject anyone who wanted anything more from me than just one night, I could even the playing field for how brutally I felt I had been rejected.

I don't know. All I know is I have been beating myself up over the last two years trying to figure out what I did wrong, why I wasn't worth answering or granting closure to. And its been long enough. I’ve cried more time than I care to admit, vented about it more times than I can count, and destroyed my self confidence trying to make sense of why I wasn’t good enough, and its time to let go.

SO. This post is me letting go. getting it all out in the open so I can finally stop obsessing over it and move on with my life.

If anyone out there actually read through all of this, thank you.

[xxdarby31xx-blog]

The Incarnation of Reptar of the Right

Before anyone reads this next mischievous entry of creative literature, a little background information is necessary in order to shed some light and provide insight behind a piece of satire that may possibly trigger some internet users. I wrote this months back and for awhile was trying to figure out when to allow other sets of eyes to read the piece for themselves. Now is that time. 💁🏻‍♂️ Here's the reason why: 🇨🇦In Canada, there is a law in legislation that if passed would require citizens to use the specific personal preferred pronoun of those who identify beyond the traditional gender groups. These individuals fall between the other "totally real" 76 gender types or either as an breathing entity that does not identify as a human being but rather an entirely separate species all together. Yes, for those uninformed Trans-Species is actually now being considered as an real fucking thing. 🤦🏻‍♂️ If one decides to not comply with this proposed mandate they will be instantly susceptible to legal action and be punished for beholding a different opinion and using such "reckless and hateful" rhetoric 😔. This has to be the most ridiculous attack on free speech ever derived. I am fucking appalled and ashamed that we live during a time where society deems such importance on such idiotic madness. 😤 Now I want you to imagine working overseas and living life as a child labor victim, forced to endure 16 hour workdays. These slave shifts only consist of putting together iPhones and perhaps stitching up Nike footwear. Even worse, this form of torture is implemented simply for the purpose of American consumption. A country whose many inhabitants are in fact intelligent human beings, along with the total retards that perpetuate the insane bullshit of identity politics. It must be devastating and depressing having to experience and survive everyday life that is comparable to Hell. Can you honestly say that you would be able to gain any sort of understanding or feel remotely compassionate towards these first world gender identity "victims", if you were the one forced into child labor? 🤔Or would you not even have the time, because of the U.S.'s high demand for I Phones? 📱. Wrap your mind around the fact it's 2016 and our society is still arguing about race, gender, and now fucking pronouns. All while some hopeless kid somewhere is being victimized by an incredibly evil form of abuse. A hideous and immoral instance of abuse that occupies, infects, and ultimately wastes away the constantly fleeing moments of an temporary existence, that we call life. Hopefully now you can see the point I'm trying to make and somewhat understand my point of view when I wrote this piece. I personally believe whole heartedly it's extremely wrong that such absurdity now trumps imminent world problems that knowingly exist. Child abuse, domestic violence, homelessness, world hunger, cancer, sex trafficking and drug abuse just to name a few examples. I don't care what you do or identify as. Just don't let such actions infringe on my right to exercise free speech and behold a different set of beliefs. Okay enough with all the seriousness and now onto a direct product of being an individual, and exercising my right of free speech. A creative, outrageous, and silly piece of satire.😝😝😝 The Incarnation of Reptar of the Right Today I go to social media in order to confess something very personal and intimate. Truth be told my whole life I have always felt so incredibly uncomfortable and empty inside. I simply cannot deny it any longer! I will no longer identify myself as a human being. Truth be told I have always known deep down in that I am in fact actually a vicious, blood thirsty Tyrannosaurs Rex. (Unfortunately trapped in a human body 😔) I'm completely serious, so If anyone beholds any insensitive opinions or comments please refrain due to the fact my regular safe space location has unfortunately already reached maximum capacity. I can't put into words the joy of this weight being lifted off my shoulders. I thought I was possibly mentally ill and alone most of my life. That all changed once I saw the comedy classic Step Brothers. This movie is where I witnessed a scene where the father character openly discussed his want and burning passion to be a T Rex Dinosaur with his son. I was instantly inspired by such bravery. I was also extremely overjoyed to finally discover that I wasn't totally alone in the universe. SPOILER ALERT.....the prehistoric identity struggle is very real people. Can you even imagine the struggle? Me as a juvenile forced to engage in school and even partake in athletics daily with an entirely separate species. All the while, possessing a constant want and ambition to roam around the backyard with my arms all scrunched up T Rex style, wreaking havoc with each and every emphatic dino stomp and scream. I began to realize very quickly that you humans consider that'd to be an unhealthy and abnormal lifestyle, but for us dinos it's a way of life. I was destined to spend the rest of my days terrorizing backyards just like my ancestors before me. We have come an extremely long way and as a result really progressed dramatically as society. Now is the first time in history that I no longer have to be ashamed to admit that I've watched Jurassic Park a billion times and admittedly reenacted every T Rex scene alone in front of my mirror for hours at a time. (I'm not gonna lie either, I'm a pretty good actor.) So good in fact that when my private bedroom auditions take place, my roommates totally think I'm just watching the J Park films in my room. Just saying 😎 Do human beings partake in such activities? I think not, but then again I cannot be certain because I am only capable of having T Rex thoughts. 😐 Furthermore, I personally don't feel like the name "Gregg" is suitable for a T Rex such as myself. So I've decided that I will now only respond and answer to the name "Reptar". It's very fitting don't you think? As a T Rex it just came to be inherently natural I suppose. Referring to me as anything other than "Reptar" would highly offend me and not to mention hateful. Reptar is and always has been my one true identity. Don't get it twisted 🙅🏻‍♂️. It's simply amazing this ignored and incredibly courageous community, is now responsible for the most important movement occurring in the U.S. 🇺🇸and other areas of the world. My hope is that this will inspire more individuals who identify as a dinosaur to open up and come out from hiding. Whether you refer to oneself as Barney the Dinosaur or perhaps Bosh the Raptor, it makes no difference. You are not alone!!! Let's turn this place into our own Jurassic World. Sincerely, Reptar of the Right Update: I am happy to share that I will be pursuing an opportunity to ensure my physical appearance resembles that of which is my true identity. While it's not as intricate or expensive as medical procedures, it is still a gallant decision to make. Let me clarify, I'm totally not calling myself a hero or anything. Just that if one thing leads to another and you do decide to label and portray me as one, I won't fight it. That'd be lame and total dick move. 😝 Anyways, turns out my uncle knows this guy who works with this other guy, and this other guy has a brother. A dude named Stevie, who (GET THIS) works on the set of the upcoming motion picture Jurassic World!!!! My boy Stevie has received word of my courageous journey, and has since reached out and offered to aide me in my time of transitioning.

[airoasis]

How to stop screwing yourself over | Mel Robbins | TEDxSF

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How to stop screwing yourself over | Mel Robbins | TEDxSF

Translator: Judith Matz Reviewer: Tatjana Jevdjic higher welcome! Hi there, San Francisco! TEDx oh my God, blinding gentle! Hi, everyone! How are you? (audience cheering) excellent?! Oh my gosh! K, so… My title is Mel Robbins, and for the last seventeen years, i’ve done nothing however support folks get the whole lot that they want. Inside motive! My husband’s right here. So, I’ve performed it within the court docket, in the boardroom, in the bedroom, in persons’s dwelling room, some thing room you want to be in, if i am there, i will help you get something you want by any means fundamental. For the final three years I host a syndicated radio exhibit. Five days a week, i go are living in forty cities and that i talk to guys and females throughout america who feel stuck.Have you learnt that a third of american citizens feel upset with their lives correct now? That is a hundred million persons! That’s insane! And i have come face to face with it on this new show that i am doing, which is also insane, it can be referred to as "In-laws". I transfer in with families across the usa (Laughter) You guessed it! Who are at battle with their in-laws. We transfer them into the equal residence, I verbally assassinate everybody, we open up Pandora’s box, and that i get men and women to discontinue arguing in regards to the donuts and who is webhosting Thanksgiving dinner, and talk about the actual stuff. And that’s what I need to talk to you about. I am right here for you. I’ll tell you the whole thing i know in not up to eighteen minutes about tips on how to get what you need. So i would like you to take a millisecond right now and feel about what you want.You! And i want you to be egocentric. Screw Simon and the "We" thing. This is about me, correct now! (Laughter) (Applause) Sorry, Simon. What do you need? And this is the deal. I don’t want it to sound good to other folks. Being healthful will not get your ass on a treadmill. Dropping your manboobs, so you could hook up with anyone, now that’s motivation. (Laughter) So, I wish to be aware of: What do you need? Do you wish to have to lose weight? Do you need to triple your income? Do you wish to have to a nonprofit? Do you need to seek out love? What is it? Get it, correct right here.You understand what it’s, do not analyze it to loss of life, simply select something. That’s a part of the quandary. You is not going to decide on. So, we will be speaking about the way you get what you want. And admittedly, getting what you need is modest. But notice I didn’t say it was easy. It’s very simple. Actually, if you feel about it, we reside in essentially the most amazing second in time. So that factor that you have up right here, some thing it usually is, you wish to have to make use of healthful consuming to remedy your diabetes, you need to determine how you can deal with the elders and begin a brand new hospice center, you want to move to Africa and build a school… Wager what? Which you could walk right into a ebook store correct now! And purchase as a minimum ten books written by using credentialed professionals on how the hell you do it.You could Google it. And also you could ordinarily to find as a minimum, I have no idea – a thousand blogs documenting the step, by means of step, by way of step transformation that anyone else is already doing. You can see any individual online and cyber-stalk them! (Laughter) which you could simply walk in their footsteps just use the science of drafting. Comply with what everybody else has achieved, due to the fact that an individual is already doing it! So why do not you’ve gotten what you need, when you have all the understanding that you need, you could have the contacts that you just need, there are almost always free instruments on-line that enable you to start a industry, or join a gaggle, or do some thing the heck you want!? It all comes down to 1 phrase: F*#.Shut the front door, you already know what i am talking about? The f-bomb. It’s everywhere! You hear it always! I honestly do not realise what the attraction is of the phrase. I imply, you do not sound wise while you say it. And it’s quite not expressing how you fairly consider. It’s style of a inexpensive shot to take. And of direction you already know i am speaking concerning the phrase "exceptional". "how you doing?" "Oh, i am high-quality." Oh, relatively? You might be? Dragging round those further forty kilos, you are exceptional? Feeling like roommates together with your partner, and you’re nice? You haven’t had sex in four months, you are pleasant? Quite?! I don’t think so! But see, here’s the take care of pronouncing that you’re exceptional: it is without a doubt genius.Given that if you are best, you do not have to do whatever about it. However when you feel about this phrase "high-quality", it just makes me so indignant. Right here we’re at a convention about being alive and you are going to explain the experience of being alive as "nice"?! What a flimsy and feeble phrase! If you’re crappy, say you are crappy! If you’re amazing say you are potent! Tell the truth! And this not simplest goes for the social construct: "Oh, i don’t wish to burden you with the truth that I hate my life", or: "hiya, i am mighty! However that may make you consider terrible." The greater drawback The bigger limitation with "quality" is that you simply say it to your self. That thing that you wish to have, I warranty you, you’ve convinced your self that you’re quality no longer having it. That is why you’re no longer pushing your self. It is the areas on your life the place you have got given up. The place you’ve gotten mentioned, "Oh, i’m nice. My mother’s in no way going to change, so I just are not able to have that dialog." "i am best.We now have got to attend until the kids graduate, earlier than we get divorced, so we’ll just sleep in separate bedrooms." "i am fine. I lost my job, i can barely pay my expenditures, but some thing it’s rough to get a job." probably the most explanations why this phrase also just annoys me so much is, scientists have calculated Oh yeah, i’m coming down! (Laughter) Scientists have calculated the odds of you being born. That is proper. They’ve crunched the numbers. I see you up there. They’ve crunched the numbers on you Yeah, you guys standing up, you want to sit down down for this.They’ve crunched the numbers on you being born. They usually took under consideration the entire wars, and the average mess ups, and the dinosaurs, and everything else. And do you realise that the chances, the chances of you, yeah, proper here, put your laptop away, get up for me, Doug! (Laughter) So the chances of Doug right here, flip round, say "hi" to all people the percentages of Doug being born at the moment in time he was born, to the dad and mom you had been born to, with the DNA constitution that you’ve, one in 4 hundred trillion! Is not that effective? Doug: i’m so lucky! Mel: yes! You’re not pleasant, you are awesome! You might have life-changing suggestions for a cause, and it’s to not torture yourself. Thanks. Thank you, Doug. (Applause) Christine used to be correct when she mentioned all of you might be on stage.Because all of you we’re all in this category. One in 4 hundred trillion. All day long you’ve ideas that would trade your life, that would alternate the world, that might change the way that you simply believe, and what do you do with them? Nothing! (Grunts) expectantly I is not going to moon you. (Laughter) You did not pay for that. (Laughter) And i need you to only consider for a minute, when you consider that we all have i really like to use the analogy "the interior snooze button" you have these effective strategies that bubble up.You’ve got been gazing men and women all day and that i assurance you, like ping pong balls bam-bam-bam and everytime you have an thought, what do you do? Hit the snooze! What’s the first selection you made this morning? I bet it used to be to go back to bed. "Yeah, first determination at present, i’m one in 4 hundred trillion, i go to go back to sleep." and that i get it! Your mattress is relaxed! It can be cosy, it can be heat! If you’re fortunate, you have got received someone that you just love subsequent to you, or in my case, I’ve acquired my husband and my two kids and possibly the dog. And the motive why i am citing this first resolution that you just made at present, and the internal snooze alarm, is considering the fact that in any discipline of your life that you want to alter, any there’s one reality that you just have got to comprehend.This one: you’re on no account going to suppose like it. Ever. No one’s coming, motivation isn’t happening, you’re not ever going to believe find it irresistible. Scientists call it activation vigor. That’s what they name the force required to get you to alter from what you are doing on autopilot to do something new. So try this test the following day. You consider you are so fancy, i know, you are attending TED. (Laughter) try this. The following day morning, set your alarm for thirty minutes earlier. After which when it goes off, take those sheets, throw them off, and get up and your day. No snooze, no prolong, no, "i’ll just wait here for five seconds on account that Mel’s now not standing here" Do it. And the motive why i would like you to do it’s because you will come face to face with the bodily, and i imply bodily force that’s required to alter your behavior. Do you consider that an individual who wants to shed some pounds ever appears like going on a diet? Of path no longer! You think they ever feel like eating boiled hen and peas as a substitute of a croissant? I do not suppose so! The activation vigor required to get your ass away from your computer and out the entrance door, to go on the stroll, you mentioned that you had been going to go on, is the designated same quantity of drive that it takes you to push yourself out of a heat bed and into a bloodless room.What’s exciting about being an adult is that whilst you emerge as eighteen, nobody tells you that it can be now going to be your job to father or mother yourself. And by means of "guardian yourself", I mean it’s your job to make yourself do the crap you do not want to do, so you could be the whole lot that you are supposed to be. And you are so rattling busy ready to suppose find it irresistible. And you’re by no means going to! My son by no means seems like getting off his DS. That’s my job! Get off the rattling DS! Kendall, easy up the Barbies! If you’re going to have a nude party in my rest room, as a minimum smooth it up! (Laughter) God, chew together with your mouth closed! We’re not a barn, for crying out loud! Very well, dinner is coming, get out of the pantry. As father and mother, and also you were a kid, your parents make you do the things you don’t suppose like doing.Considering that you will not. Ever. Not now, not then, no longer ever! And even while you get just right at something, you’ll work out whatever else you do not need to do. And then you’ll plateau out, lose interest, "I hate this job. Blah blah boring." but will you seem for a brand new one? No! You’ll be able to simply bitch about that one. It’s very, quite simple to get what you need. But it surely’s not convenient. You have got to drive yourself. And i mean force. And the purpose why i take advantage of the phrase "force" when Roz was once up here and talking concerning the emotion monitoring, and she had the picture of two aspects of the mind I appear on the mind the designated same manner. Best I describe one part of your mind as autopilot and the other aspect as emergency brake. That is the only two speeds you get: autopilot, emergency brake. And wager which one your brain likes better: autopilot. You’ve had the expertise the place you may have pushed to work and also you get there and you are like, "Oh my God, i don’t don’t forget ever driving right here." (Laughter) you were not drunk! That was your brain on autopilot. It was functioning just at this level. And the challenge with your mind is that anytime you do anything that is distinct out of your traditional pursuits, guess what your brain does emergency brake! And it has that response for everything. The whole thing! You walk into the kitchen and see each person’s left their breakfast dishes for you.And you feel for the hundredth time, "i will kill them. Actually i am gonna depart it here and i’ll make them do it." but that’s no longer your typical pursuits, is it? So your mind goes: emergency brake! And you go proper into autopilot. "i will just load it, and be pissed, after which not have intercourse. That’s what i’ll do." (Laughter) (Applause) So, once I say "force", something that’s a spoil out of your pursuits is going to require force. And should you think about your existence, it is form of humorous seeing that we’re kids and then we become adults, and we spend so much time trying to push our life into some style of stable movements, and then we develop bored of it! You get up at the same time day-to-day, you’ve got mostly the same breakfast, you drive to work the equal way, show up at work, seem busy, prevent making calls, replace facebook, you attend a assembly and doodle the entire time, go back and replace facebook, make plans for the evening, you seem busy some extra, then pressure home the equal manner, you devour mostly the equal dinner or a kind of it, you watch the equal form of media, and then you definately go to mattress, and do the same thing in every single place once more! No surprise you’re bored out of your mind! It can be the activities that is killing you.I have this thought about why individuals get caught in existence. So, most of you might have more commonly taken your normal Psych 101 category, and you may have bumped into Abraham Maslow’s "Hierarchy of wants"? Good, your body is kinda cool. Because you could have these normal desires. And your body is wired to ship you signals. If you would like meals, what do you believe? If you want water, what do you suppose? If you would like intercourse, what do you consider? (Laughter) thanks. I consider whilst you believe stuck or disenchanted in your lifestyles, it is a sign. And it’s now not a sign that your life is broken. It is a sign that considered one of your most simple wishes aren’t being met. Your want for exploration. The whole lot about your existence, about your body, grows! Your cells regenerate, your hair, your nails, the whole lot grows in your whole existence. And your soul wishes exploration and development. And the one method you can get it’s with the aid of forcing yourself to be uncomfortable. Forcing yourself to get outside, out of your head. Thanks. If you are in your head, you are in the back of enemy lines. That is not God speakme, okay? It’s not! In fact, if I put a speaker on it and we broadcast what you say to yourself, we would institutionalize you. (Laughter) you wouldn’t hang out with persons that speak to you the way in which you speak to your self.So get out of your head! Your feelings! Your feelings are screwing you! I don’t care the way you believe! I care about what you need! And in the event you take heed to the way you feel, when it comes to what you need you are going to no longer get it. Seeing that you are going to never think find it irresistible. And also you have got to get external your alleviation zone. It is no longer about taking dangers, it can be about getting outside your remedy zone. Those first three seconds whilst you push your self off the bed, they blow. But once you’re up, it can be best. Those first three seconds when you are sitting here in a stadium like this and an individual says, "stand up and come dance," and you think, "Oh, I should do that," after which you’re like, "Uhmm." that experience that you simply had while you had the impulse to do it and then you definately failed to do the activation vigour required to drive your self, your emergency brake received pulled "i’m sitting proper here. I am no longer going up with those crazy men and women, i don’t like to bounce…" What happened for me is I came up, and i ran into Rachel, after which we began speaking, and next factor you realize, she’s tweeting.And we’re associates. And boom! Get outside. That’s where the magic is. That’s the place the one in four hundred trillion exists. So the whole lot I do oh, ok, that is the final phase. Sorry. So an extra factor that you should utilize, I call it the 5-second-rule. Your mind can method a facial features in 33 milliseconds. It may transfer pretty damn speedy. The other thing that it does very rapidly is you probably have a kind of little impulses which might be pulling you, when you do not marry it with an motion inside 5 seconds, you pull the emergency brake and kill the idea. Kill it! In case you have the impulse to get up and are available dance whilst the band is playing, when you do not rise up in five seconds, you are going to drag the emergency brake. If in case you have an impulse about, you have been stimulated through a person’s speech today, and you don’t do anything inside five seconds write a observe, ship yourself a text anything bodily to marry it with the suggestion, you’ll pull the emergency brake and kill the inspiration.Your problem is not recommendations. Your situation is you don’t act on them. You kill them. It is no longer my fault. It is not any person’s fault. You’re doing it to yourself. Stop it! I am depending on you. One in four hundred trillion. You received stuff to do! And it is now not going to happen for your head. So i would like you to observe this in these days. Once we go off to party, thank God it can be coming soon, since I think we all might use a cocktail, i want you to observe the 5-second-rule. You see anyone and also you consider you could have an impulse, they seem exciting? Stroll over there! You were encouraged by somebody and you’ve got a request? Make it! That is why you’re here! Test with it, and i think you can be shocked about what happens. And one more thing, i would like you to grasp that the whole thing that I do, whether or not it is the radio show, or the television exhibit, or the booklet that I wrote, or the column, it can be for you.And if there’s something that i will do, if i can do some thing to make you do the things you do not need to do, so that you would be able to have what you wish to have, i’ll do it. However you have got to walk over, you have to open your mouth, and also you have to make the request. You received it? Good. Go do it. (Applause) thanks! Thanks, yes! Rise up! You’ve got the impulse, stand up! Thank you! .

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