#this post is a bummer of a pity party | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

samuel-de-champagne-problems · 3 years

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Red Lips & Rosy Cheeks

Pairing: TA Spencer x Student Reader (She/Her)

Category: Smut & Angst (no minors)

Summary: Spencer Reid is a wallflower. But what happens to wallflowers when they’re invited to the dancefloor?

Content Warnings: Angst with Smut, Smut- Oral (male receiving), fingering, dirty talk, hinted Sub Spencer, unprotected penetrative sex, mentions of ‘marking’

Word Count: 5,600

Prompt: “I feel so unsure, as I take your hand and lead you to the dance floor.”

Author's Note: Congrats to @mercy-burning! You are one of the reasons I started posting on here. I adore your writing and am so happy for you 1 Year! Lots of love to you <3

Red Lips and Rosy Cheeks

He felt so out of place in his ill-fitting suit. His shiny shoes pinched his toes and his dark tweed jacket made him stick out in the sea of faculty twenty-five years his senior. Spencer’s no stranger to imposter syndrome and when it comes to big events like the annual end of year banquet, it comes back in full force. He tried his best to make small talk to the professors, from other departments, but his pride was stricken one too many times when the waiter at the open bar asked for his ID, but not his companions.

And just like that he was back in the halls of high school, ridiculed for his clothes, tormented for his family, teased for his youth. In his misguided optimism, Spencer would have expected that that kind of immaturity wouldn’t have followed him all the way to CalTech. He had hoped that it would have died in the dry Las Vegas desert. He wished he could bury his past, desert the undesirable attention. But, as it turned out, being the smartest person in any room, comes with its drawbacks.

Spencer, despite the weak start, finds himself enjoying the chatter of the banquet. The students from his chemistry class milled about, chatting happily with their classmates. A pang of jealousy hits Spencer’s heart as he watches them. He never got a ‘normal college’ experience. Being years younger and years wiser, he missed out on the parties and friendships. And now that his third PhD is completed, he’s ready to move on to the BAU with Agent Gideon. It’s a little terrifying to leave the comforts of academia. He’ll miss the quiet library and the familiar buildings with their hiding spots. But what he’ll miss more is the memories that he never got to make.

Just as another wave of self pity is about to hit Spencer, a twist catches him off guard. Y/N, a student from his chemistry class, walks over to him. Instantly, Spencer goes through a whirlwind of emotions. First, excitement because she’s walking over. Second, guilt because she’s his student. As unprofessional (and inexperienced) he is, he still can’t resist that the very thought of kissing her makes him a little more than hot under the collar.

“Good evening, Dr. Reid,” she says, smiling with her eyes as she approaches him, “You look like you’re having the time of your life,” she jokes, leaving Spencer stammering to come up with an answer.

“Parties aren’t really my thing,” he says, shrugging his shoulders, “I was actually thinking about slipping out. It’s not like anyone would miss me here, besides, I have to feed my cat” he offers, taking in just how breathtaking she looks. He doesn’t even have a cat, but he’s known for quite awhile that all his intelligence floods out his ears when he’s talking with Y/N.

“That’s a bummer,” Y/N says, her eyes twinkling as she sets down her drink on the empty table to her right, “I was here to ask you to dance,”

“Yes,” Spencer says, cutting her off at the end with his unadulterated enthusiasm, “I mean, if it’s okay with you. Well of course it is, you asked me,” he backtracks, internally cringing at his word vomit.

“What about your cat?” she says, the levity of her voice telling Spencer that she’s teasing him. She holds her hand out, extending him a piece of her to grab onto. He wants nothing more than to clasp her hand in his and never let go.

“I don’t know why I said that,” Spencer confesses, taking her steady hand in his shaky one, “I’m nervous. I never danced with a girl before,”

“You’re cute,” Y/N says, holding his hand as they walk towards the dance floor. Spencer is grateful for the cover of the dimly lit ballroom. Otherwise, she’d see his rosy cheeks. He doesn’t think she’d laugh at his reaction, but the doubtful side of Spencer urges him to act with caution, “I’m glad you’re staying,” she whispers into his ear.

He feels so unsure, as she takes his hand and leads him to the dance floor. The music thumps in his chest. He can feel his blood circulating throughout his body and he’s sure that he’ll end up having a heart attack from how fast the adrenaline moves through his system. And yet, as Y/N brings her hands to his shoulders and directs his hands to her waist, Spencer’s never felt more alive.

“See, you’re dancing with a girl for the first time,” she says into his ear. The music is so loud that her lips brush up against his ear for him to hear her, “It’s not that bad is it?” she asks, teasing him again.

“N-no,” Spencer says, still struggling to form sentences as her hands clasped around his neck. She sways to the beat to the music gracefully. He must be an eyesore, stumbling along clumsily, “It’s nice,”

“I’m glad, Dr. Reid,” she whispers, laying her head on his shoulder as the song changes to a slower ballad. Her hair tickles his nose and her flowery perfume makes his heart skip a beat, “I wanted to tell you something before you left,” she says.

“You don’t have to thank me, Ms. Y/L/N,” Spencer says, using her formal name, despite their less than formal closeness, “You’re a very bright student and it was my pleasure to help you throughout the semester. Your paper on Thermoelectric Materials had incredible insight. I was impressed, and proud, if I can say that,” Spencer says, letting his hands rest on her back as they continue to sway to the music.

“That’s not what I wanted to say, but I’ll admit, you being proud of me gives me butterflies,” she confesses, lifting her head from his shoulder to watch his facial expression.

“I-I,” Spencer stammers, his brain unable to compute what Y/N is insinuating, “I’m not sure what you mean, Y/N,”

“Is it really not that obvious?” she asks, fidgeting nervously with her fingers, “I mean, I brought you cookies like every tutoring session and I can’t help but stare at you in class. Spencer, I thought you knew and didn’t like me like that,”

Like her like that. Like her like that. Like her like that.

That little sentence tumbles around in Spencer’s mind as mind’s eye images of their time spent together flash before him. Countless hours spent sneaking glances when he thought she wasn’t looking. Lingering after class as she’d pack up her books so he could hold the door open as she walked to her next class. How had to contain his excitement when she asked him for private tutoring sessions, even though she was already at the top of the class.

Part of him wants to kick himself for not catching it; for being so caught up in his own supposed flaws that he didn’t see what was right before him. But another part, the hopeless romantic in him, wants to kiss her in front of everyone.

“I wanted to tell you before I graduated, and you’re moving onto bigger things,” she says, lifting her head from his shoulder. Warmth lingers in the spot where her head rested on his shoulder. Spencer can feel his pulse quicken when she looks at him again, a hopeful smiling playing on her lips.

“I’m glad you told me,” Spencer says, not wanting to drop her hand as they dance, even as the music stops, “Even though I’m leaving soon,” he adds, wishing that things could have been different.

“Just because you’re leaving doesn’t mean you won’t remember me,” Y/N whispers, threading her fingers in his hair. Gone were the innocent glances and stolen stares. With the feeling of her fingers in his hair, Spencer was ready to trade it in for something much more salacious. And though he might stumble his way through it, he knew that once this night faded into nothing but longing memories of possibility, he’d never regret it, “You know this banquet hall has some unoccupied rooms, down the left. And I think we’re the only party here today,” Y/N says into his ear.

Her lips hit his skin again. From the corner of his eye, he can see her fiery red lips. When she first walked up to him, he had to avert his gaze. Something about her red lips and the promises they told reeled him in.

Spencer nods in response, not trusting himself to talk and reveal all the sweet, and surprisingly sinful things he’s thinking as they walk away from the dance floor. He feels so unsure, as she takes his hand and leads him away from the dance floor.

The music echoes throughout the otherwise silent hallways. Spencer’s shoes still pinch him in the toes and his tweed suit jacket is much too warm. He can feel his palms get sweatier as Y/N leads him down the hallways, looking for a room.

Spencer has only done this once before. It wasn’t love to the other person, though in his mind she was the only thing. It’s almost as if when he walks along the cushioned carpets and he looks from the ostentatious decor to Y/N’s sinfully red lips he’s seen this film before. But Spencer wants this to be different, even though they are simply fated to fall apart. He desperately wants them to have the only ending they aren’t allowed to get.

“This looks like a good spot,” Y/N says, turning to face him with a wicked smile, “There’s no lock, so don’t be too loud Dr. Reid,”

The tiny cupboard holds the banquet hall’s fancy linens and tablecloths, but it might as well be The Door of Death and Y/N the sinfully disguised Charon. She drags him through the threshold by his tie, showing no mercy.

“I’ve been waiting for this,” Y/N says, as Spencer shuts the door behind them. She reaches up to pull down the lightbulb. The cupboard, like the banquet hall, is dimly lit, making Y/N’s face look ghostly. Her red lips and stunning eyes are the only signs of life in her otherwise haunted face. Spencer swears he hasn’t seen anyone so unabashedly beautiful.

“I always wondered what you’d be like, Doctor,”

His honorific slipping from her lips is too much. Spencer’s breath hitches as Y/N’s fingers cascade down his front. She looks like she’s enjoying watching him squirm. He wonders if it makes her feel powerful having him react to her touches as if he was attached to a string. Yet, as her face eclipses the lightbulb and her lips come to cover his, Spencer knows that anything else is futile. If she wants power, he’ll lose the meaning of will.

“Please kiss me,” Spencer says the desperation in his voice coming out in little puffs of air, “I need to have kissed you at least once,”

“You’re even cuter when you beg,” Y/N says, her cool affect short circuiting the synapses in his brain, “As much as I want to hear that, I think I want to kiss you more,”

His glasses fog up first. Then, he finally feels the pressure of their lips meeting. Spencer can feel her lipstick rub off on his lips as she glides over his mouth. Her fingers are knotted in his hair again, pulling him closer. Her kisses are controlled and thoughtful. As she moves across his jaw, Spencer hopes to himself that the lipstick will remain when their spark invientably extinguishes. He wants to commit her to memory. He hadn’t even left yet and he was missing her already.

“You’re good at that,” Y/N says, pulling away from the kiss. She rests her forehead against his. For a second Spencer lets himself breathe her in. He soaks in the smell of her hair, never wanting to forget how the sweet scent hits his nose, “Are you okay, Doc?”

Spencer licks his lips, hoping to taste the lingering lipstick. He doesn’t, which means he’ll just have to kiss her again. His voice, with Y/N so close and every fiber of his being lit on fire, is useless. Spencer wants to give her more of an answer than a small nod, afterall she does like it when he begs.

“God, yes,” Spencer says, chasing her lips. He’s been deprived too long, and in a short while, he’ll be deprived again. But this time for the rest of his life. Y/N’s eyes search his; looking for the slightest bit of doubt or regret. She must not find it because her lips are on his again.

He whimpers as her hands find their rightful place in his hair. Only when she starts to peel off his tweed jacket, does Spencer realize just how overheated he was getting. The door rattles when Y/N pushes him back against it, working her way down his jaw. He can feel her smile through the kisses. She leaves her crimson red mark on his skin, a physical symbol for his already tainted heart. Just to think, moments ago he was shaking with uncertainty as he danced with her.

She grabbed his hand, led him to the dancefloor and proceeded to whisk him away. It’s like a headrush, experiencing all those experiences he was desperate to live out.

“I knew you’d be so noisy,” Y/N says, undoing Spencer’s tie as he looks at her longingly, “Tell me if this is too much, promise?”

He nods, wondering what she could mean. Y/N holds his undone tie bunched in her hand. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what exactly she’s thinking of doing with it. Spencer gulps, the anticipation nearly killing him. If he’s honest with himself, he would bet money that she’ll kill him before the anticipation does.

“I did say you were too noisy,” she says again, smiling devilishly with the blood-red lips, “As much as I’d like to hear those cute little whimpers, I don’t think either of us want to get caught,”

Spencer nods his head, fully understanding Y/N’s intent. His eyes are wide with desire; he’s swimming in uncharted territory now. There’s no map to tell him the way when he’s backed up against the door with his former student offering to gag him with his tie as they��

“Yes,” Spencer says, “Please, just do something,” he begs, opening his mouth to let her stop the noises that he lets out.

“That’s right, Doc, good boys use their manners,” Y/N says coyly. She places his tie in his mouth. The texture of the silk hits his tongue. He can’t close his mouth, but if he really wanted to he would be able to remove it. He supposes that that’s the thrill of it all.

His whimpers sound even more pathetic through the fabric of his tie. Y/N looks to be enjoying herself. Compared to Spencer, with his disheveled hair and lipstick stained skin, she looks so put together. It’s not a secret who holds all the power, and Spencer wouldn’t want it any other way.

Sweetly, Y/N kisses Spencer’s forehead and nose, making him flush red in the cupboard. The sickly sweet moment ends as she drops to her knees. Spencer is a smart man. He knows that even though she’s on her knees, there’s no guessing who is listening to who.

As her fingers undo his belt, Spencer is grateful for the tie blocking out the moans of approval. His pants fall to his ankles. Y/N skims her finger around his underwear waistband, purposefully not giving into what he wants. As much as he likes her attention, Spencer feels himself grow more and more impatient with desire at her lack of attention. He squirms, standing against the door with his head thrown back.

“Has anyone ever touched you like this, baby?” Y/N asks, his heart skipping when he catches the name she used for him. He feels almost silly, blushing at being called ‘baby’ while her hands inch down his underwear, “Has anyone seen you come undone?”

The last time he found himself in this situation was 3 years ago. And, to everyone’s displeasure, it didn’t end, or rather, finish, with mutual satisfaction. Spencer, with the benefit of hindsight on his side, supposes that nearly everyone’s ‘first times’ are muddled with shaky hands and uncertainty.

He can’t speak through the makeshift gag and he swears that she’s doing it on purpose. Spencer wonders, as Y/N palms him through his underwear, if she knew the effect she always had on him. It’s different than when they’d meet late in the library for her totally unnecessary tutoring session. That was the daylight; this is the afterglow. The dim light bulb formed a halo around her head. She was angelic, but what she was about to do to him was nothing short of devilish.

“Then you’re all mine,” she says, mercifully reaching a hand into his underwear. She smiles from down below, her lips curving as she watches him react to her. He wanted nothing more than to let his guard down.

Letting her drag him out to the dancefloor was the first drop into the bucket. And like one of those Rube Goldberg Machines, Spencer knows what’s next. He’ll, for the first time he can remember, let control go. He’ll take all that insecurity that he held in the palm of his hand and discard it. It was probably gone the moment she told him she liked him afterall.

“You know, as much as I don’t want to get caught. I think I need one last chemistry lesson, Doctor Reid,” she asks him, before finally giving into what he wants. Her delicate finger brushes over his erection. Her wicked smile and scarlet lips make her look like everything sinful personified. She holds her hand with her palm extended for Spencer to spit the tie-gag out. He trusts her, but is still apprehensive on how a chemistry lesson tracks.

“Tell me how you feel, baby,” she cooes, her hands not touching him as he squirms with frustration, “If only everyone could see the smart Dr. Reid all dumb like this. I haven’t even touched you yet and look at you,”

Her mocking tone shouldn’t make him more eager, but it does. In some kind of twisted reaction, it only makes Spencer want her more. His breathing, as she wraps her hand loosely around his cock, hitches with yearning. Something about her eyes spells out desire. It draws him in, but reminds him that he’s only allowed one taste before it’s all gone. She’s a sinful Cinderella. Or maybe he’s Cinderella, because Y/N’s certainly charming.

“Y/N, please. I need more. It feels too good,” Spencer pants. He knew that that moment she dragged him onto the dancefloor he was fucked. But now with her touching him with her pants down to his ankles, fucked can’t even begin to describe the situation.

“Tell me, Doctor Reid,” she starts, her saccharine voice and Cheshire smile leaves him mesmerized, “What are the chemicals associated with sexual gratification?”

Blank. His mind is blank. All that he can see is red. Her red lips painted a deadly crimson. All he can feel is red. His cheeks burning red with need.

“Uh, um,” Spencer starts, closing his eyes to concentrate, “Lust is estrogen and testosterone and attraction is dopamine, serotonin, and norephedrine. Those are the chemicals associated with sexual gratification. It’s an evolutionary development,”

“Good boy,” Y/N says, fully knowing the effect that those two little words have on him. His heart races, his pupils expand, his entire body tenses.

It’s science.

Spencer opens his eyes just in time to watch Y/N take his cock into her mouth. He wishes that she didn’t take the tie out of his mouth. There’s no stopping the round of moans and whimpers that leave his mouth. Her tongue is soft against him, her mouth warm and inviting. Spencer knows it’s scientifically impossible, but he thinks that a part of his brain has died.

“Y/N, oh god, Y/N. That feels so good, please.” he begs. The words leaving his mouth without much thought or consideration.

He doesn't seem like he’s forcing her, but he needs to grip his hand onto something. Lightly he rests his hands in her hair, holding as gently as he possibly can. He feels Y/N moan around his cock as she continues flicking her tongue around him. The vibrations cause more throaty moans to creep out. He feels like he is on fire. Nothing lasts forever, but this is going to take him down.

She releases him from her mouth, running her finger along his tip. The sensation makes him shiver and his reactions make her smirk. Spencer, unsure how much more he can take, feels embolden. He helps Y/N pull, practically hauling her to her feet with all his might.

Unlike the kiss prior, Spencer is sure of himself. He kisses her with an intense ferocity. Her lipstick, between kissing him before and what had just happened, had worn off quite a bit. The remnants leaving Spencer’s skin marked up for all Y/N’s glory.

“Looks like you enjoyed that,” Y/N says, licking her lips with a self-satisfied grin as Spencer nods his head frantically, “I did too,”

And as if the corners of his mouth were pulled up by invisible strings, Spencer smiles. He leans forward again, kissing Y/N. She seems surprised, but enthusiastic at his initiation. Spencer wants nothing more than to melt into the kiss. He wants to let it wash over him again and again. He wants to be able to memorize the feel of his lips kissing every inch of his skin, because soon it will all be gone. She’ll be nothing, but a memory that will haunt his dreams and invade his thoughts.

“You can taste yourself on me can’t you, Dr. Reid?” Y/N says, “You want to feel how wet that makes me?”

As if it was possible, Spencer’s cheeks burn at Y/N’s crude words. She takes his hand in her hand, bringing it up to her mouth. And as she looks at him, straight in the eyes, Spencer isn’t sure if he should avert his gaze.

“Yes,” Spencer says, immediately agreeing to whatever it is that she wants. It doesn’t matter what it is, he’ll give it to her without hesitation, “Please, whatever you want,”

“You’re an even better student than teacher, darling,” Y/N says softly, kissing Spencer’s index finger from the knuckle to the tip before slipping it into her mouth. Just as she sucked him moments before, she welcomes his finger into her mouth. This time, Spencer gets a better view of how the eyes refuse to look anyway, but his.

“Oh, fuck,” Spencer says, uncharacterisitcally swearing, “Y/N, you’re going to kill me,” he murmers under his breath.

She releases his finger from her mouth; a trail of spit attaching the tip of his finger to her soft red lips. Some of her lipstick rubbed off on his finger, another piece of him marked by her.

“I had to get you nice and wet for me,” she says, “Come on, baby. Don’t you want to touch me?”

“Yes,” Spencer says, his hand shaking, evident with anticipation, “I want to make you feel good too,”

Noticing his nerves, Y/N guides his hand lower. She bunches up her dress to her waist, revealing her underwear. Now nothing is left to his imagination. Spencer can hear the faint music through the door. The speakers boom loud and louder, or maybe that’s just his heart about to take flight.

Finally, he touches her. He feels just how wet sucking him off had made her. If anything, he’s very observant. He uses his natural skill to figure out just what Y/N likes. He circles her entrance with his index finger. His mind and hands working together to pull out the most beautiful noises from her. Y/N holds his wrist tightly, making sure he continues to rub circles on her clit.

In a moment of tenderness that will make his head spin for years to come, Y/N places her hand against Spencer’s cheek. He continues to rub circles around her clit, placing slightly more pressure to make the sensation more intense. She kisses his forehead, whispering words of encouragement as he continues to pump in and out with another finger.

“You’re doing so good for me, baby. You’re going to make me come,”

Prompted by her sweet words and even sweeter kisses, Spencer whimpers in response. He can feel her constrict around his finger. And he’s read enough scientific articles on the female orgasm to understand what this means. He wants to feel her come undone at his hands. He wants to feel her desire for him so he’ll be able to hold onto the memory.

“I’m so close,” Y/N whispers, so quietly that Spencer is sure a ghost whispered it, “So close,”

Whines and strangled moans filled the room. Spencer can tell that Y/N is trying to be quiet as she comes. A part of him wonders how loud she would have behn if they did this in a bedroom, not in a storage office at a university banquet. Even though she holds back, she’s still beautiful as she climaxes.

“God, you are so beautiful, Y/N,” Spencer says, peppering her cheeks and collarbones with sweet kisses. He means it. The words. The kisses. He means every word of it. She is beautiful.

Spencer knows that he must be a sight. His lips feel swollen from Y/N bitting kisses. His skin is littered with bruising kisses and lipstick stains. And his hair. He’s always had trouble controlling it, but in the heat of the small storage room, he’s sure his hair is wild and messy.

Yet, just as he looks at Y/N like she’s the most beautiful thing in the world. Her eyes mirror his. She studies him, and he’s filled with the hope that she’ll remember him, even her wildest dreams.

“I want to fuck you now,” she licks her lips, her controlled exterior tarnished with the soft look she gives him. From his position facing the table, they are eye to eye. He holds out his hands, letting them hover over her waist as she sits on the table.

“I want to remember this forever,” Spencer says, his words coming out more earnestly than he expected, “My only regret is waiting so long for you,”

“It’s okay,” she says, bringing him in closer. His breath hitches as his cock brushed up against her soft thigh, “We’ll make it count for today,”

She reaches down, taking his cock into her hands and lining him up. Spencer’s labored breathing grows desperate. He’s positive that he can feel every cell in his body singing with lust. He moves closer, pushing himself inside her.

It’s like time has stopped. He can hardly breathe. His mouth hangs open and he rests his forehead against Y/N’s. She kisses his nose, the only part of him her lips can reach.

“I knew you’d feel so good inside of me,” she says, her words sticking to him like glue.

Her words are the encouragement that he needs to start moving. His thrusts are slow and untimely. He tries his best to mirror Y/N’s controlled and throughout movements, but he’s nothing but a poor intimation.

Her lips, messy and red, whisper sweet nothings that he’ll treasure like love letters for years to come. He’s a mess of emotions as she continues to claw at him in pleasure. His whimpers and her moans fill the room.

Spencer tries his best to have a coherent pace as he continues to thrust. Y/N meets him halfway, moving and constricting around Spencer as he’s buried deep inside her. She guides his hand to her clit, wordlessly telling him what she needs. Spencer’s happy to listen, wanting to do anything to please her.

“You are an eager little slut,” she whispers, the dirty words painting his cheeks as red as her lips once were, “My eager little slut,”

That little word is what makes him lose it, but the next sentence is truly what ends him.

“Be a my good boy and ask for permission”

“God, Y/N,” Spencer says, his voice raising an octave as he feels like he’s never felt in his life, “Please, I’m going to come, please,” he begs. It comes full circle. Her red lips smiles wickedly as he begs for permission. He’s eating out of the palm of her hand, and there’s no other way he’d rather do it.

“Since you’re such an eager slut, make me come first and then I might consider it,” she offers, leaving Spencer scrambling to help her reach her climax.

His nimble fingers rub circles around her clit and his lips leave no spot on her skin untouched. He kisses her enough for a lifetime. Though, if they were together, a lifetime would not be nearly enough. Her hands are in his hair, twisting and tugging in pleasure.

“That’s it, darling, that’s it,” she says, chasing her release as Spencer doesn’t relent, “Such a good boy,”

He feels his heart skip at the praise. He’d need nothing more but that for the rest of his life.

Spencer groans as she comes while he’s inside her. Her legs are tightly wrapped around his waist, anchoring him to her. His eyes meet her eyes and Spencer never felt more at home. He’s sure it’s the cocktail of hormones and her being so close that makes him want to pretend that this can last forever. She’ll haunt his hindsight, he’ll see them in flashbacks tangled up like they are now. Her hands knotted in his hair and her lipstick marked him as hers.

A chorus of thank yous, pleas of pleasure, and chants of her name slip from his lips as Spencer reaches his climax. His brain turns to mush as he pulls out, his release sticking to Y/N’s thighs. Spencer rests his head against Y/N’s shoulder, concentrating on his breathing. She gently rubs her hand against his back, holding him close. She kisses his cheeks, his nose, his forehead.

“It was worth the wait,” she says, her voice low as Spencer feels himself come back to Earth. Her legs unwrap from his waist and she looks around for something to wipe herself up with. She finds a linen, looks at it, and then look back at Spencer, “I think I’ll have to steal this,”

Her deadpan humor forces a wry chuckle from Spencer.

“I suppose so,” he says, his tone sounding even more unsure than he was when she brought him out to dance, “I’m fine,” he says, because he knows that question is coming. He takes the linen from her hands, cleaning her legs up. He crumbles it up, giving it back to her to slip in her bag.

“You sure,” she says, “Because we can stay here for a couple more seconds if that's what you want. I want make sure you feel good, Spencer,”

If it was only seconds with her that he needed. But he shakes his head, pretending to be okay when he’s anything but.

“I’m all good,” he says, “Just not used to hooking up in linen closets,”

“Really?” Y/N teases, her smile playful. She reaches out, kissing Spencer. He accepts it gleefully, treating it like it's the last time they’ll kiss, because it very well might be, “Please don’t forget me, Dr. Reid,”

Her voice is sincere as if there is a true possibility of him forgetting her. Not even if he could, would he. She’ll remain as fresh in his mind as she did the very first time they met. Memories of her touch, her smell, her taste will haunt him like footsteps. It’s a blessing and a curse to never forget her.

He takes her hand in his, kissing her fingers before bringing them to his heart.

“Never,”

“Good,” she says, kissing his forehead one last time. She jumps off the table, adjusting her dress and fixing her hair.

Grabbing her bag, she opens the door only to close it again. She turns, facing Spencer. Y/N walks over to him, her fingers holding him so tight the lipstick stains will have bruises to match. He kisses her back.

“I had to do that one last time,” she whispers, turning her back to him. It’s the last glimpse of her he’ll ever get. Her eyes marred with tears, her lips messy with red lipstick, her skin burning with passion.

The door shuts, leaving him alone in the dark. He can hear his heartbeat and it sounds lonely without hers. His heart will break again and again. He’ll fall in love and out of love over and over. Someone will swoop in and glue fractured pieces together. But the cracks will show. The missing slivers will never let him look the same again.

Spencer will miss her like he misses the sunset when he watches the sunrise. And can only hope that she’ll miss him like she misses the sunrise as the sunsets. His heart will mend again, but he’ll dream of it being broken by the same hand if that means she can love him for real.

As he slips out of the closet, checking both ways, his heartbeats for the one he can’t have. Every pang the soundtrack to the life they will never share together.

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omgdexnursey · 3 years

Text

posting a snippet of a shitty/lardo fic i’m working on!

(canon divergence; alcohol mention/content)

The first time he sees her is at a party at the football house.

He’s standing among the excited crowd of fellow drunk undergrads, looking on in awe as this tiny girl demolishes two of the linebackers in her third game of beer pong.

She lines up her shot, the corner of her mouth quirked up into a small smirk. With a flick of her wrist, she sinks her ball into the last cup on the other team’s side, and an uproarious cheer erupts from the crowd.

In a matter of seconds, her partner’s hoisted her up onto his shoulders, and she raises her arms in victory. The linebackers on the other side of the table regard her with respect and good-natured defeat.

“Lars! Lars! Lars!” the crowd chants.

Shitty learns two things from this. One: That this girl — presumably Lars is a nickname — is popular enough to have gained even a mostly-drunk crowd’s approval; and two: that Shitty has only had a glimpse of what her pong skills are, as this is clearly not a fluke. In his foggy, post-4-cups-of-jungle-juice-mind, he thinks it’s an honor to have witnessed such an event.

Shitty sees her fist bump one of the linebackers and give the other a high ten before departing from the table.

He knows it’d be weird, not to mention really creepy, to follow her, even though she has the most effortlessly cool energy radiating from her. She’s the kind of person that you want to talk to, and be their friend, because you can just tell they’re endlessly interesting.

He doesn’t stay to watch the next game, the image of her mouth curved with unassuming confidence burning itself into the back of his mind as he slips out of the room.

Shitty walks down the upstairs hallway, pitying the players who did not lock their doors when he sees a giggling couple slip into one of the bedrooms. The bathroom door is slightly open, so he pushes it open, nearly hitting the girl inside with it.

“Oh God- gosh- I’m so sorry,” he stammers, dropping his gaze to the floor and starting to back out of the door.

“It’s okay, I didn’t lock the door,” the girl says. After a slight pause she adds, “I’m not naked.”

It sounds like an invitation for Shitty to look up, so he does, slowly. The girl from the pong table is standing in front of the sink, using the mirror to fix her eyeliner. Her eyes flicker to his reflection.

“I’ll be done soon if you came here to shit or something,” she says, exhaling a mild laugh.

“Not here to shit, but the name is Shitty,” he replies.

Her eyebrows shoot up. “I beg your pardon?”

“My name.”

“Is Shitty?”

“Yup.”

Despite the skeptical look on her face, she nods, as if to humor him. “Nice to meet you, Shitty. I’m Larissa.”

“Larissa,” Shitty repeats. “What’s your major?”

“Studio art,” Larissa answers, examining her eyeliner. “What about you?”

“Double majoring in poli sci and Women’s Gender and Sexuality.” Larissa’s eyes meet his in the mirror again. “Turns out you can’t triple major, which is a major fucking bummer — no pun intended.”

Larissa smiles. There’s a faint reddish pink stain around her upper lip, likely leftover from whatever she’s been drinking. “What would you have liked to triple major in?” she asks, capping her eyeliner and turning around to face him.

“I’m not sure. Maybe something math related?” Shitty rubs his chin. “Comp sci would’ve been cool too.”

Larissa wrinkles her nose. “Nerd,” she says teasingly.

“I’m on the hockey team,” Shitty offers.

“So you’re a nerd and a jock.”

“I’m multidimensional,” Shitty says, hoping it will make her laugh. It does.

“I do love a man with multiple dimensions.” She cocks her head to the side. “Sorry, do you need to use the bathroom?”

“Uh, kind of,” Shitty says, having suddenly been reminded why he sought out a bathroom in the first place. “Someone spilled jungle juice on me,” he continues, gesturing at his stained shirt, “and it’s starting to get sticky. Need to rinse my chest.”

“Ooh,” Larissa says, sucking in a sympathetic breath. “That’s the worst.” She grabs her solo cup and nods toward the door. “It was nice to meet you Shitty.”

“Likewise.”

She closes the door behind her, leaving him in the relative stillness of the small bathroom. He strips his shirt off and runs the tap, splashing water at the sticky spot of God knows what on his pecs.

It’s basically become a ritual at this point to end up semi-naked at house parties, so he figures now is as good a time as any. He tosses his shirt over his shoulder and leaves the bathroom.

To his surprise, Larissa is sitting on the top stair, looking at something on her phone.

“Were you waiting for me?” he asks.

She slides her phone in her pocket and twists around to face him. He doesn’t miss the way she opens her mouth to answer, then falters, eyes tracing a line down his neck to his waist.

Her gaze darts back up. “No, I’m waiting for another hockey playing nerd washing jungle juice off his chest to come out of one of these bathrooms.” She grins, finishes her drink, and sets the empty cup on one the stairs. “Wanna dance with me?”

Shitty takes her outstretched hand and lets her lead him downstairs, through the crowd into the living room.

If you asked Shitty, he wouldn't be able to tell you anything about the music that played. Instead, he could go on about the way she looked, lit up by colorful LEDs, her silky black hair swinging freely, the look of carefree ecstasy on her face. Though he’s drank enough to feel it in the morning, he would swear the sight of her sobered him in an instant.

As the song comes to an end, Larissa stands up on her toes, winding her hands in Shitty’s hair, and kisses him.

She tastes like strawberry vodka and fruit punch.

#omgcp #check please #wip #shitty/lardo #syd i hope you see this bc i’m posting this mostly so you see it xoxo 💖#my writing

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weaponsofclairvoyance · 2 years

Note

hey i really like the pity party stuff you posted and ive been casually browsing punk stuff for a bit and you seem very knowlegeable about the subject. can you rec me any other bands like them?

of course! i definitely know less abt their kind of like diy pop punk than other types of punk so if you're really into that genre and think these picks are super basic then feel free 2 give some of your own recs. here's some similar stuff i like (and a recommended album for each) also here's a sampler playlist for u

not on tour - growing pains

lipstick homicide - out utero

grumpster - underwhelmed

teenage halloween - self titled

sarchasm - beach blanket bummer pop! (oakland band that's been around for over a decade theyre awesome)

be your own pet - self titled (its byop you can find them anywhere)

tancred - out of the garden

bad cop bad cop - warriors

get married - songs for the sleepless, also their album of misfits covers :). they're not really the same style but theyre great and i believe they share their bassist kayla with pity party so i must include them

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jtargaryen18 · 3 years

Text

Hot Girl Bummer: Meet the Losers

Series Masterlist

Words: 3.3k

Pairing: Jake Jensen aka Best Buy X Single Mom Reader

Warnngs: Expletive use, explicit sexual content in a romantic relationship, references to other explicit sexual situations, pregnancy, barely justifiable mounds of fluff.

Disclaimer: The author of this work claims no ownership of characters aside from the reader, and original secondary characters mentioned. This work is not intended for those under the age of 18 due to explicit sexual content and adult themes. By reading this work or any works on my blog (jtargaryen18), you agree that you are at least 18 years of age. I do not consent to have my work hosted on any third party app or site.This work is intended for the enjoyment of readers.You are responsible for noting the warnings before reading. Please read responsibly. If you’re looking for a post to launch a personal opinion, demean anyone, or tell me to get help - move along.

Summary: Jake’s invited The Losers to your house for a cookout so you can officially meet them. You also have some unexpected news to share with the man who has stolen your heart. How will he react? Are you ready for what comes next?

~~~*~~~*~~~~*~~~

Another knock on the bathroom door. You swore under your breath, fighting your heaving stomach as you sat next to the toilet.

“Jake, please go down and make sure the mac and cheese doesn’t burn.” You sounded pitiful and felt worse.

“It’s Michelle,” Jake’s sister called from the other side of the door. “Are you okay?”

You blew out a sigh.

Jake was so excited about today. You were having the team over for a cookout and while you’d technically met them before, today would make it official.

You’d been looking forward to today. You’d heard so many stories about each of them, you honestly felt like you knew them now. The house was cleaned up, most of the food was ready, and everyone was due to show up in the next hour.

And here you were. You’d been sick since you got up this morning.

You were afraid you knew exactly why.

“Can I come in?”

Moving along the floor, you reached out to unlock the door. Michelle carefully opened it and peered in.

“Are you okay?” Concern clouded her blue eyes and she got into the floor with you.

You nodded. “I’m fine. I just need to get myself together so I can get back to the kitchen.”

“Jake’s got it covered.” Michelle smiled. “I guess it’s a bad time to tell you that he’s making that punch again.”

Just the thought of all that alcohol had your stomach threatening to lurch. Fortunately, there was nothing left in it to come up.

“Not that you can have that,” Michelle muttered, rising to find a washcloth and running it under warm water.

“What?” You couldn’t have heard her right.

Rejoining you on the floor, Michelle held the washcloth out to you. She smiled. A less goofy version of Jake’s smile.

“I’m guessing you haven’t told him,” Michelle said, watching you dab at your face. “I would know.”

Michelle had guessed correctly then. Damn.

The worries gnawing at your mind rushed to the front.

“How am I going to tell him?” you asked. “He’s excited about me meeting the team finally. And I’m supposed to turn around and dump a baby on him?”

Michelle’s smile didn’t waiver. “He had something to do with that.”

“He had a lot to do with that,” you replied, grinning. “I’m on the pill though. I didn’t think…”

His sister’s expression sobered. “Do you want the baby?”

That was an easy question to answer. “Yes. It was a shock but we’d… I’d always hoped to have at least two.”

You and Daniel had hoped to have two or three children. But he was gone. You and Jake had never talked about the future though. Marriage. More kids. You were just grateful he was so good with Charlie and cared about her. Living together had seemed a huge step to you and that had been just over a month.

Her smiled returned. “Then I wouldn’t worry about a thing. I know my brother.”

You hoped she was right.

“Jake’s happy with you,” Michelle went on. She meant it. “I’ve never seen him like this. And he’s crazy about Charlie.”

That had you smiling. You knew she was right. And Charlie sure loved him.

Jake would definitely be a good father to his own child. You just hoped he wanted it. Because if he didn’t or he panicked…

“Hey,” Michelle pulled you into a hug. “Trust me.”

“Thank you,” you told her as she helped you off the floor. “I’ve just got to figure out how to tell him. I’m surprised he hasn’t guessed. I cry all the time now. I know you’re probably right, but it doesn’t feel right just saying… hey, I’m knocked… up.”

You burst into tears, Michelle held onto you, trying to soothe you.

“Mom?”

Swiping at your eyes with your washcloth, you tried to steady yourself. “In here.”

Charlie’s eyes were huge on you. “Are you okay?”

You held your arms out to her. “I’m fine, honey. I’m just fine.”

Your little girl didn’t look convinced when she backed out of your hug, but she was there for a reason. “Jake said to tell you the losers are here.”

“What?” The who?

Michelle laughed. “The team. The Losers.”

You smiled. Of course. “Tell him we’ll be right there.”

Charlie nodded, skipping away.

“I hope I’m ready for this,” you admitted.

“They’re great,” Michelle assured you. “You’ll love them.”

She helped you sort your appearance before you both headed downstairs to find the girls crowded around the laptop Jake let Charlie use even though it made you worry. Should you give a laptop that looked like it cost more than your car to a child?

You heard laughter from out back. Jake already had everyone set up in the backyard.

You followed Michelle out the kitchen door where her husband was chatting with the group you remembered from that first Petunias game, the day you met Jake. He was laughing with the handsome one in the weathered hat at the grill when he spotted you.

Jake’s blue eyes lit up, that smile sending your heart flying. “There she is.”

Your stomach’s threat was a mild rumble when the smell of cooking burgers and hot dogs reached you.

Sending up every prayer you knew you didn’t embarrass yourself, you eased your way down the stairs letting Jake pull you into a big hug. He kept an arm around your waist as he turned to face his friends.

“Sugar, these are losers,” he motioned to his friends with a wide grin. And they were good sports about it, smiling at you warmly.

“Losers, this is my girl,” Jake told them, and you didn’t miss the pride in his expression.

The first one to reach you was the team leader, Clay. As big as Jake and gorgeous with silver threaded through his dark hair. His hug was solid, his voice deep whiskey in your ear.

“Welcome to the family,” he told you. “And thank you. You’ve somehow made him a better soldier.”

“Really?”

Clay eased back from you, not caring who heard him. “He is. Shits Tiffany cufflinks now just so he can get back to his girls.”

The man meant it. But you didn’t have a lot of time to think about that because you were passed to softer arms. Aisha was with Clay and she was beautiful with big luminous eyes and a smile a model would kill for.

“Thank you for having us over,” she said.

“Thank you for coming over,” you replied. “I’m happy to meet you.”

Pooch and his wife were next. They had an adorable son with a beautiful smile who was just about to turn one.

The one in the hat was Cougar and while he didn’t have a lot to say, you liked his warm dark eyes, the protective position he took no matter where everyone was in the yard. It reminded you in an odd way of Daniel.

Michelle herded the girls outside and away from the video game so you could all eat. You should have been helping Jake get everything served up, but Michelle steered you to one of the picnic tables and sat you down. Jake cut you a curious glance from the grill but didn’t say anything.

You picked at your food while Charlie watched you with big, concerned eyes. Jake sat on your other side, trading jabs with the team. They told outrageous stories that had all of you laughing. It worked out for you because you they were all so entertained that no one seemed to notice you weren’t able to eat at all.

And you were able to forget being sick for a few minutes. Able to stop worrying about how in the world you were going to tell Jake…

Jake stood up finally and you were about to chide him from being drunk, but you realized that at the moment, he wasn’t. Everyone else had a beer or two, but things hadn’t gotten too wild.

You did wonder what he was up to.

“Guys, thank you for coming today,” Jake told them. “to meet my girls.”

Now, he was looking at you nervously. What was this?

Carefully, he took your hands in his, motioning Charlie to him too. Now you really wondered what he was up as he helped you up from the picnic table to stand next to him. Your daughter stopped at his other side.

Your heart flew when he took a knee in front of Charlie.

“Do you remember what we talked about yesterday?” he asked her.

“That you couldn’t take my Daddy’s place, but you’d take care of me and Mom for him?” Charlie nodded, all smiles. “Yep.”

You were blinking back tears.

“That’s right,” Jake whispered, his hands trembling.

“You’re my Jake,” she said, throwing herself into his arms with all she had.

“Just wanted to make sure,” he said, holding her with his voice shaking just a little.

You were swiping at tears when Jake rose and turned to you now, taking your hands in his before lowering to one knee. Your heart flew, time seemed to stop as he gazed up at you with sincere blue eyes. The gentle way he whispered your name made it sound like a prayer.

“I love you,” Jake said as if you and Charlie were the only other people in the world. “I love Charlie. I love us together. Our family.”

Could you love this man more?

Reaching into the pocket of his jeans, he pulled out a ring box and opened it. A gorgeous diamond solitaire gleamed against the black velvet of that little box as he held it up to you.

“Would you marry me?” Jake asked softly. “Keep me?”

You burst into tears, you couldn’t help it. You were pretty sure you muttered yes and nodded. You weren’t sure. Jake’s blinding smile as he rose to kiss you led you to believe that you’d accepted his proposal. In your heart, you absolutely had.

Your friends cheered you on, Charlie hugged both of you. Jake managed to slide the gorgeous ring onto your finger. It fit perfectly.

Just like he fit into your lives.

You were still swiping away tears when Michelle came up to congratulate you. You hugged her as Jake’s team joked with him, very obviously happy for him.

You finally made it to the table to grab a napkin, to try and stop the damned tears. Jake was still smiling, coming around to wrap an arm around you while Michelle served the girls ice cream.

Jake looked just a little concerned. “I hope those are happy tears,” he told you.

“Mom’s not crying because she’s happy,” Charlie told him from the other side of the table, ice cream already on the tip of her nose. “She’s crying because she’s knocked up.”

Oh. God. Charlie had heard you talk to Michelle.

Clay and Pooch burst out laughing. Aisha smacked Clay on the back and Pooch’s wife shook her head him, their son on her hip. Cougar at least turned around before you saw him start laughing.

Jake froze next to you.

“Well, Jensen, you always were efficient,” Clay said loudly.

“I’m so sorry,” Aisha told you.

Gentle fingers tipped your chin until your gaze was on Jake. “Sugar? Are you…?”

Blowing out an exhale, you nodded. Your heart hurt as you waited…

Would he be happy? Would he…

“Really?” Jake slowly smiled, his gaze roaming down to your still-flat tummy.

“I haven’t done a test yet,” you said, sniffling. “But I’m pretty sure… I’ve done this before.”

Jake’s smile widened, those blue eyes a little shiny. “I’m going to be a daddy?”

That stopped Charlie who stared at you now.

“Your Mom is having a baby?” April looked excited.

Charlie jumped up and ran around to you. You were so relieved to see the happiness on your little girl’s face, especially with how this was going.

You nodded. “I think so,” you said slowly looking from her to Jake and back.

You saw Daniel for just a second in your girl’s face before she wrapped her arms around your waist.

Jake wrapped his arms around both of you.

***

Michelle took Charlie home with her to give you and Jake some alone time to talk.

The cookout went on for a couple more hours with the guys having drinks and telling stories. You ladies told stories of your own and you realized that you really liked Aisha and Jolene, Pooch’s wife. April and Charlie played with Pooch’s son, excited about Charlie’s baby sister – she was very sure it would be a girl – and April’s cousin.

Both girls were only children and you’d avoided the subject after Daniel died because you didn’t know if you’d ever find someone else, much less have more children. Now you learned that it was something Charlie very much wanted, and she promised to share with April who flat out asked her parents if she could have a baby sister too.

The nerves slowly faded and that was a good thing since you couldn’t have a drink. Jake kept an eye on you the entire time, looking ready to come rescue you if you needed it.

You were comfortable, already in bed while Jake showered. It was just after midnight. Your mind was still going a mile a minute. You were engaged and pregnant. Charlie was happy. Jake seemed on top of the world.

Just maybe everything would be okay.

“Hey,” Jake whispered close to your ear.

You’d dozed off. Jake was stretched out on the bed next to you, his long muscular form on top of the covers while you were under them. Jake wore his glasses and a red pair of boxer briefs, grinning as your gaze roamed over all those muscles as you tried to shake off the cobwebs of sleep.

“How are you feeling?” he asked gently.

“I’m okay,” you promised him. “I’m not feeling sick right now. That’s good.”

Jake had that look in his eye like he was up to something.

“What?” you wanted to know.

“Cougar ran out before everyone left and got a couple of tests,” Jake told you, his blue eyes hopeful.

Playfully, you folded your arms across your chest. “You require proof?”

He laughed. “No, I was just thinking that we could confirm it. And we could do that together.”

The damn tears were creeping back, stinging the backs of your eyes.

“Jake, are you sure…”

Jake pulled you to him carefully for a kiss. “Sugar, don’t ask me that. I wouldn’t have asked you to marry me if I didn’t want all of it. You. Charlie. More kids.”

You nodded, a couple of tears escaping despite your best efforts.

“Do you want…” He started carefully.

“Michelle asked me that,” you cut him off. “Of course I do. It was just a surprise. I’ve been on the pill the entire time, you know.”

Jake’s grin had your heart squeezing in your chest. He looked so happy.

“My swimmers are powerful,” he told you looking way too pleased with himself, preening. “The pill couldn’t stop them.”

Oh, you’d never hear the end of this. You shook your head.

“Want to do the test?” Jake asked. “Make it official?”

You were smiling. You were crying. You were a mess.

“Oh, why not?”

Jake barely gave you the privacy you needed to pee on the stick. Sure enough, it wasn’t long until the second blue line showed up in the window, confirming that you were indeed pregnant.

Jake was elated, wrapping you up in his arms in the quiet of the bathroom until you could barely breathe. Scooping you up, he carried you back into the bedroom. You loved that he was brawny enough to climb up into the bed with you.

“So what happens next?” Jake stretched out next to you, making you a little self-conscious in just his t-shirt as his gaze roamed over you. Propping up his head with one hand, the other skimmed over your body.

“I’ll need to find a doctor,” you explained. You hadn’t gotten around to doing that since you’d moved here. “And we’ll go from there.”

His big hand slid down to cover your tummy, lingering there. When his finger traced the line of the scar low on your belly from Charlie’s birth, you knew he was concerned.

You slid your hand over his. “There’s a pretty good chance that this baby will be delivered by c-section too. But it’ll be okay. They do those all the time.”

Jake’s gaze met yours, his blue eyes hopeful.

“We should probably tie the knot before she gets here,” Jake’s grin returned.

“She?” You shook your head. “I’ll tell you the same thing I told Charlie. It’s way too early to know if it’s a boy or girl at this point.”

“But you’re still going to marry me?” Jake moved closer, his hand sliding out from under yours and lifting it to cup the side of your face.

“I am,” you assured him.

His kiss was gentle, a promise sealed by lips and hearts. When Jake moved over you, you welcomed his warmth, the security of his solid form all around you. He kissed you for long moments while you wrapped yourself around him. Jake’s slender hips were cradled by your thighs, the warm silken flesh covering all those muscles under your hands.

You plucked off his glasses a beat before you felt him gently pushing your panties down. You helped him slide his boxers down, wanting to be one with him.

When strong fingers found their way into your folds, Jake groaned to find you soaking, needing him.

“You ready for me, Sugar?” he whispered low in your ear.

“Yes.” You needed him so badly.

“I need to be careful with you,” he said against the slim column of your neck. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

You gasped as he carefully slid into you. “You won’t… Just probably shouldn’t do that Thor’s Hammer thing again until after…”

Jake shook in your arms, chuckling as he began to move in you. His movements were slow, sensual, keeping his weight off you. Wrapped around each other, he loved you slowly. Your walls stretched around him, savoring the way he filled you. Your heart flew at the care he took with you, the way he made you feel treasured.

You were already on the edge of release when his hand slid between you, his fingers teasing your clit until you flew apart, clenching desperately around him as you writhed and cried out. It was only then that Jake sped up, his thrusts harder, faster as he worked for his own release. When he found it, your name was torn from his lips. His heart pounded against yours as he held you tight, as you trembled against each other.

You ended up in Jake’s arms, your head against his chest. His fingers traced circuits over your shoulder and back.

“I’ll be a stay-at-home dad,” he said out of the blue.

You smiled. “We’ve got time to figure it all out. I’m sleepy.”

Jake brushed a kiss to the top of your head. “I love you.”

“I love you, Best Buy.”

And you were dozing. You’d forgotten how tired pregnancy made you feel.

He shifted after a few minutes and you just knew what he was doing. He’d gotten on his phone.

“Please tell me you’re not already shopping,” you murmured.

“Nah.” Jake blew out an exhale. “These baby monitors are shit. I’m thinking a whole surveillance setup in the baby’s room. That way, we won’t miss anything”

You smiled. There was no doubt that he would do just that.

Yes, he was Charlie’s Jake. But he was your Jake too.

And you were keeping him.

THE END

@21stcenturywitchcraft @buckybarnesplumwhore @bval-1 @caffiend-queen @candy-and-writing @capsicle-shield @chaoticfiretaconerd @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @coldmuffinbanditshoe @daughterofthenight117 @hv-chw3 @iheartsebandchris @imanuglywombat @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @justrae9903 @lok1sgrl @lokislastlove @mariaenchanted @marvelouspottering @maxwelllee2020 @nannies-dont-date @nekoannie-chan @nerdwholikesword @notyourtypicalrose @peaceinourtime82 @rainbowkisses31 @rayofdawnworld @richonne4life @rissysthoughts-blog @saiyanprincessswanie @scarletsoldierrr @shygirl-00 @stargazingfangirl18 @supernaturaldean67 @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @team-iron-wannabe-man @titty-teetee @tonib666 @villanellevi @weebid @what-is-your-backupplan-today @what-is-your-wish @xoxabs88xox @onetwo3000 @rosalynshields @naturalthrone22

@my-favorite-fics-and-imagines

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#Hot Girl Bummer #The Losers #Jake Jensen #Single Mom reader #Jake Jensen x reader #Jake Jensen x you

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sroset · 3 years

Text

Not Quite Friends

I wrote this a while ago and it is posted on archive on our own ( https://archiveofourown.org/works/28630245). It’s my first fic, so it might not be very good 😂 let me know what you think! Also sorry if the formatting is weird.

Ti Lee’s birthday party was the event of the year, it always was. There was always the best music and the best drinks, and of course the best memories made. Sokka and Suki had arrived at the party together and were practically undressing eachother with their eyes all night long. The way they danced with eachother would make people around them uncomfortable, if they didn’t already know the affectionate couple. Zuko and Mai were off sulking in the corner, not looking particularly happy with one another. Aang could sense the tension between them as soon as he walked in the door with Katara. Zuko’s mood suddenly changed when he made eye contact with Katara. A million words were said between a three second glance. No one else around them seemed to notice the way Zuko and Katara instantly lit up at the sight of eachother. But Aang did. He saw how Zuko’s tense posture seemed to relax and his hard edges softened at the sight of Katara. Aang could see how Katara’s perpetual nerves seemed to disappear as soon as she knew that he was here. The feeling of jealousy that washed over Aang was one he tried not to focus on because Zuko had a girlfriend and Aang knew that Zuko was aware of Aang’s everlasting crush on Katara, so Aang was reassured that Zuko would never make a move on his girl. Even though he was self assured, Aang decided to go hang with Toph to keep his mind off of things.

~0~

A few weeks later, Zuko and Mai broke up. Everyone saw it coming. It wasn’t like those two were the best at talking about feelings and emotions, not much could be accomplished in their relationship because of that. But still, the breakup was hard on Zuko. Him and Mai had been together for years, of course it was an on and off again relationship, but the comfort of someone familiar was now gone and Zuko felt empty. Katara got everyone together to go to the beach to try and cheer Zuko up. Katara knew Zuko better than anyone else in the group. Somehow she had torn through his thorns and the walls that he put around himself and really got to know him. That’s how she knew that the beach was Zuko’s favorite spot and would always cheer him up.

Zuko and Katara were hanging out in the waves laughing with each other, when Aang skipped into the tide to go surf. He didn’t mean to listen to what they were saying as he passed, but he did.

“I just feel so empty. I’m just drained from being with her that I don’t know what to do with myself anymore,” Zuko had said with a deep frown.

“Hey,” Katara sighed as she gently placed a hand on Zuko’s scarred cheek, “I know it’s hard but I’m always going to be here for you. You are my best friend and I don’t ever want to see you hurt.”

Best friend? Aang thought he was Katara’s best friend. He had known her longer than Zuko, hell he grew up with Katara. She was always there for him, how was he not her best friend?

What Aang saw next made his heart stop. Katara splashed Zuko with the blue water around her, that caused Zuko to pause for a second and then he smiled. A smile that Aang had only ever seen Zuko direct at Katara, a smile so soft and full of admiration that it made Aang realize that there was more between Zuko and Katara than he was comfortable with.

~0~

The next couple of weeks were rough for Aang. He was upset and jealous, and it made him cranky. It has affected the group and made everyone concerned for him. He hadn’t thought about how it had affected everyone else in the group until Sokka approached him while they were at the “dance night” that Uncle Iroh was having at his tea shop.

“Hey man, what’s going on?” Sokka said with a waver of worry in his tone.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you’re being a real bummer, you haven’t even danced tonight and that’s not like you. Even Toph is worried about you, and that’s saying something”.

“I just don’t get it,” Aang sighed.

“Get what?” Suki interjected as she slid into the seat next to Sokka.

“That,” Aang bit out as he gestured toward Katara and Zuko dancing, with Zuko’s hand on her lower back as he spun her. “ I’ve been friends with Katara for so long, and I’ve loved her for even longer, and I’ve tried to show her that by always being with her. But somehow I am not good enough.” Aang frowned as Katara’s face lit up when Zuko whispered something in her ear that made her laugh. She was glowing with happiness. Happiness that Aang didn’t give her.

“Hey guys! Why aren’t you dancing?” Katara questioned as she stopped by the table to get a drink.

“Actually, Sokka and I were just about to get back out there. You guys better be out there in a minute or I’m gonna drag you,” Suki commented as she grabbed Sokka’s hand.

“C’mon Aang, I know Toph needs a dance partner still, she’s currently stepping on Zuko’s toes. Go rescue him.” Katara instructed before she headed out the makeshift dance floor. Aang reluctantly followed and frowned as Zuko smiled at Katara and swayed around with her as she giggled.

~0~

On the gang’s annual ski trip, Aang’s jealously and hurt got worse.

“Katara?” Zuko called out from the living room of the cabin that they were renting for the weekend. Aang hated the way that Zuko said her name because it was so different than the way he said anyone else’s names. It was so soft and compassionate, compared to the harshness that Zuko used with Sokka, Aang, Toph and Suki.

“Yes...?” Katara replied from the kitchen.

“Do you need any help with dinner?”

“That would be great actually, thank you!”

Aang sat in self pity as Zuko got up off the arm chair and walked to the kitchen.

“Aang what’s wrong?” Sokka asked with a slight hint of sarcasm in his voice.

“Nothing.”

“Oh c’mon I know it’s something,” Sokka teased.

“Fine, I am upset,” Aang replied shortly.

“Oh. Uh. Did you wanna.... talk.. about it?” Sokka asked suddenly uncomfortable.

Unaware that the pair in the kitchen could hear every word he was saying, Aang answered bitterly.

“You can see it in their eyes; they aren’t just friends. The way Zuko smiles for her? Friends don’t smile like that. The way he touches her? Friends don’t touch eachother like that. The way Katara’s face lights up when he talks? Friends don’t look at eachother like that. The way Zuko’s voice changes when he says her name? Friends don’t talk like that. I see it clear as day. They aren’t quite friends anymore. And I hate it because the person she wants, she needs, will never be me.”

Sokka sat there, mouth agape as he listened to Aang ramble about his feelings. What no one was aware of was the two people in the kitchen who were now blushing furiously and avoiding eye contact with eachother.

“I didn’t know you felt the same way,” were the words whispered in the kitchen as Aang finally realized why he was so jealous of Zuko and Katara. It wasn’t just because he had a crush on Katara, it was because no one had ever looked at him the way Katara had always looked at Zuko.

#zutara #zutara fic #avatar the last airbender #zuko #katara #modern #pining

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woopboopboop · 4 years

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Fine Line

Note: Hello! First of all, thanks for all the love for my first writing that I posted here few weeks ago (I think?) I really really really appreciate it! Anyway, I’ve had this concept for a while in my mind after listening to the song (which is now becoming my fav. hands up for fine line stan!) This is my interpretation of Fine Line track and it’s a bit inspired by the Zane Lowe’s interview with Haz. It didn’t really turn out like how I imagine it would be which is a bit of a bummer but at times it really does hard to make the words go. I do hope you enjoy it tho. Happy reading, loves!

Maybe it is the hour. Maybe it is the place. Maybe it is the ambiance. But surely, he looks vulnerable in some sense. Not that he is a breaking glass, shattering in front of me. It’s more like he is a glass, a sturdy one and transparent. As if I could see through him and set my eyes on the street with passing cars behind him. I notice the flower given just few hours ago is now placed on the kitchen counter. As a person who is very all out in his fashion sense, Harry’s kitchen is almost the total opposite of those outfits he has worn. The room is occupied with a number of kitchen appliances here and there, dark coloured tiles for the floor contrasting the light colour on the walls, cream coloured cabinets same as kitchen counters.

“Tea or coffee?” he asks not turning his face while grabbing two mugs from the top cabinet. “Coffee, please.”

I pull one of the stools at the counter and make myself comfortable in the kitchen. Our surrounding now is different from what it was when I first step into the house. The chattering voices in his living room died down as the clock strikes midnight. Familiar faces also had left the place to continue making their own way after ‘Thank you’s’ were exchanged between them and Harry. I can sense that the cold breeze starts to sneak in through the little opening of the kitchen window and the smell of coffee slowly fills the air. It has been awhile since the last time that we spend our time together, be it with other people around or just the two of us.

“So,” he begins while carrying the two mugs and setting one mug in front of me, “How’s life?” I notice that he is broader now, curls slightly longer in a bun on his head and he is looking a little matured with the growing stubble on his face. I give a chuckle hearing his question but not because I don’t appreciate it. For me, it is just sudden. “I’m fine, H.”

“Yeah?” He asks me once more for assurance. As long as I’ve known him, I can safely say that he is one of the kindest human being. Not perfect of course, but he tries his best to be there for those he deems special. I figure there is no getting around this kind of topic with him so I shrug. “Well, life gets hard. Would love to just leave everything behind but I – there’s still a lot of things to be considered. You know?” I answer jokingly but there is truth behind those words.

He leans against the sink opposite from where I am sitting. Half of his face hiding behind the mug as he takes a sip of the coffee. Everything seems still around us until he places his mug aside and nods his head in agreement. I then ask him the same question, “How bout you?” He shrugs.

“I’m good. I guess. I mean, I shouldn’t be feeling any worse right?” My thumb finds its way between my lips and I try to think of a possible answer for his question. My eyes wonder around the kitchen as if the answer is hiding somewhere under the plates or in the hums of the refrigerator. He lets a short chuckle when I position both my hands under my chin and pouting slightly, thinking deeply. “You are entitled to whatever you are feeling. There’s no reason to reason about your feelings.” I stop myself and silently revaluates the sentence, “Make sense?”

His arms are folded close to his torso and lips jutting out a bit, looking towards me with an amused expression. “Yeah, make sense.”

“We are always in a middle of something in life. Sometimes we fall on one side and some other times we fall on the other side. Sometimes, we learn to combine both sides. It’s all a fine line.” I throw him a playful look after emphasising the last sentence. I will never get used on how he reacts to every joke or pun made and right now his face is so amusing with his big smile, hands in the air and eyebrows arching. “That’s a good one!” he exclaims while shaking his finger at me.

Quietly, I wish that we have more time like this. Times where we dump all of the feelings stored inside of us but at the same time make our way around it or make a joke out of it. “Would be fun if we can just buy emotions,” he says out of the blue. “Like just straight up walking into a shop and ‘Excuse me sir, I would like to have a jar of happiness please. Here’s my sadness for exchange.’” I say trying my best to mock up god knows what kind of accent that comes up in my mind at that time with a high pitched voice and hold my hands out. He is really having a good time hearing my response and just letting out a string of laughter. “What the hell was that?” he tries to catch his breath to give a proper reply but then fails since both of us are further bursting into laughter.

After a few good minutes, we settle down and wipe the tears from our eyes. “God,” he inhales, looking at the ceiling and continue, “That’s so stupid.” There is still little bit of laughter left in me and I try to get myself on the track. With a stifled laughter, I tell him my opinion on buying feelings. “That’ll be a good thing but that wouldn’t be the best thing in life. Sure, it will erase your sadness for a while but then you just gonna keep on going to the shop every other day for your daily supply of happiness.”

“And maybe at the end, it’s not an exciting trip to the shop anymore,” he pitches in. For all I know, he had been through a lot for past years and that he is always finding a way to hold on in life. It’s not bad but at times, he feels those heavy feelings are getting in his way and he wants to bounce back from it. When he moved to California, he shared with me that he had been to therapy. I was shocked at first because I thought that maybe life find its way to get to him. But as he unfolded his journey, he assured me that it is just a normal thing to do here and that it feels like you are unloading the looming feelings inside you. Therapy is more of a ‘pick me up’ thing whenever he needs it.

“There you go. Plus, you won’t be able to write good songs if you don’t feel things,” I tell him with confidence. It is not denied that the album is one of the means for him to be vulnerable and to share part of him out there. There are some particular songs that really tug on my heartstrings and I wonder if he still feels the same way now after the whole writing, composing and editing process had been through. Eyebrows stitching together, he seems to be giving the exchanges between us a deep thought.

“How do you feel now though?” He is fiddling with the rings on his finger before looking up to me. I find myself also playing with the only ring on my finger while waiting for his answer. At first, I thought of just shrugging the question off and asking him to forget about it since I’m afraid that it might be too personal. Arms crossed and his back still leaning against the sink, he answers me genuinely, “Feels horrible before, I’m good now. But sometimes you’re in and out of it, you know?” I nod my head, signalling him to continue with his train of thought. “Because you thought you gonna have like a future with them, even not romantically, but then your thought is wrong so you just kind of sad about it.”

It’s very true that he is sad about having wrong assumptions about people that come into his life. Especially, the ones who come hanging around for quite a bit before leaving like it’s nothing. Often, he blames himself for it because how can he be blinded to not see that certain people just don’t fit in his puzzle. I bet it is a lot more hurtful if that person has an intimate relationship with him. A person who has a high place in his gallery. A person who was once a sunshine, a temptress. That might explain all the alcohol that he downed just to get rid of certain person in his mind or to remember them.

He makes his way around the counter and sits on the stool beside me. His body is fully turn towards me while one arm is resting on the counter and one on his thigh. However, his face is looking toward the place where he is standing just now. Maybe his thought is roaming outside the window placed above the sink. He sighs softly and his lips form a small smile.

“Have you ever like blame the upper hand for it?” My fingers tap on the side of the mug and I remove my gaze from where he was to where he is currently. “Well, at times. I mean, we do get petty when things don’t go our way, right?” he asks me. I chuckle at the statement. Very true indeed. In life, we want things our way and when our expectations are not met, we throw ourselves a pity party.

“But then I figure that He will also be the one that drags me out of the dirt He throws me in. That’s a price that you pay for being devoted, I guess.” “Yeah, I guess so too,” I say softly, turning my head side way to meet his eyes. I am searching for something in them. Something like devastation? Sadness? Disappointment? But there is nothing but lush hope in those green eyes of his. Similar to a forest, when one’s can get lost in and at the same time build life from.

My eyes are returning to the coffee in my mug again. Then I feel his eyes staring intently at the side of my face. “Yes, Harry?” From the corner of my eyes, I can see he is smiling widely, with the bunny tooth that I always adore. “Nothing,” he shrugs.

“Life is a fine line, huh?” I say avoiding any silence from making its way between us. To be honest, the word ‘fine line’ is very wide and has various different perspectives and depth to it. And to say that life is a fine line, for me, at least, it is very much an accurate definition of life. I shift to the edge of the stool and cross my arms above the counter. We would mirror each other if only his body is not slightly turned facing me. “Life is a fine line. But the uncertainty of what is waiting in the near future gets to me sometimes,” he says, uncaging his trepidation. All of the uncertainties in life can bring people down in my opinion. But he proves me that it is not always bad and it is what shape you as a human being all along.

“But we’ll be alright, right?”

“We’ll be alright.”

#writings #fine line #harry styles #harry styles writings #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #one direction #one direction imagine #one direction imagines #one direction preference #one direction preferences #fine line track #fine line album

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daredevilexchange · 4 years

Photo

Want to be featured here? Head to this page and fill in the form!

See what this is about here, or if you’re using the app here.

What’s your fannish ID? Nightingale / rrrNightingale / rrr_nightingale

What types of fanworks do you create? I am exploring fanart (mostly traditional sketches, liners and markers, but I might go digital too, it is my final goal, lol). So far I am rarely fully satisfied with the result, but it’s still interesting to draw and I hope that practice bears fruit. Also I have translated one fic into Russian and I would probably like to do it again, translating is an exciting process.

What are your favourite types of fanworks, when you’re not creating? I love fics, art and gifs, vids can be pretty fantastic too. Haven’t watched much on Daredevil, though.

What do you like in particular about this fandom? I really appreciate Matt and Foggy’s friendship (whether they are a ship or not)! Friendship is very important. Funny thing, I’m not very into ‘protecting the city/fighting Kingpin’ stuff, I like a more realistic (even if slightly AU-ish) take on characters with more relatable problems. I also like No Powers AUs. Unpopular opinion, I don’t hate Iron Fist series xD As for The Punisher, I am more into seeing Frank’s human side, preferably him not mindlessly killing criminals if the plot allows it.

Do you like participating in fan events? Online fandom events are great, they motivate to make content and offer some publicity, also it’s fun to be a part of a bigger thing! Usually there are cool works to find and it’s all very festive. I try to participate when I’ve got free time and feel confident I can deliver. Not a huge fan of campaigns, they demand too much time and attention, and for me fandom life has always been a nice thing done for fun. (Kudos to those who do it.) RL events like cons are very cool though, but I have only visited local ones. Slash parties are the best! :D

Do you interact a lot with other fans? I’m on a Discord server, but I wouldn’t mind interacting with other fans more. I don’t socialize much. I would really like to meet some other fans in RL and talk & party someday :D It’s a pity the distances are significant.

Do you have other fandoms you’d like to talk about?

I’ve been into quite a few fandoms, sometimes I move on or come back. Currently I’m taking a break from Detroit Become Human, had a thing for Good Omens, regularly come back to Marvel Steve/Tony, and am suddenly very into Dirk Gently… I like sci-fi and it shows. My fandom life has been a hectic one :) I cannot name all the fandoms I have ever been interested in, it’s a long list. I prefer gen and slash, adventures or casual stories, whump, angst, hurt/comfort, pining, I like badass yet vulnerable characters, but all fics must end well :D I need more positivity in my life!

Is there any particular piece you’d like to showcase for this post? https://rrr-nightingale.tumblr.com/post/614045567992135680/g-matt-murdock-frank-castle-post-apocalypse-au Here is a new sketch made for @daredevilbingo (an experiment with mixed results). Because why not make a new one? I’d rather finish my bingo sooner than later! %)

Is there anything else you want to tell us about yourself? I used to make icons and write & translate more, nowadays I can hardly write anything (a real bummer!). But also I have always wanted to make fanart, so now I am trying it!

Where can your fanworks be found? https://rrr-nightingale.tumblr.com/ (#daredevil fanart; soon will add some #iron fist fanart DDE: have added the link because now there IS IF fanart :D) https://twitter.com/rrrNightingale (a bit of #Daredevil) https://archiveofourown.org/users/rrrNightingale (no art here, though)

Thank you, @rrr-nightingale - who also created the TWO banners for FrattWeek 2 (May 25 to 31) !

And this banner by @context-is-for-kingpins :-)

#daredevil #daredevil art #daredeviledit #the punisher #marvel #content creator spotlight

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madisonxwarner · 4 years

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RealLifeHQ Task 001: Playlists

Let’s find a bar so dark we forget who we are where all the scars from the nevers and maybes die!

LISTEN TO MADISON’S PLAYLIST

(gif credit)

Madison’s playlist is split into three categories: Songs she bops, songs she bops because she relates to them in some way, and both. Her music taste is as chaotic as she is.

Songs Madison bops:

Make Me Proud - Drake

Dope - Fifth Harmony

Youth - Troye Sivan

ROXANNE - Arizona Zervas

Hot Girl Bummer - blackbear

Stupid - Ashnikko

Hard Out Here - Lilly Allen

Energy - Drake

Doin’ Time - Lana Del Rey

Summer Bummer - Lana Del Rey

I Love It - Kanye West

Beware - Big Sean

Drops of Jupiter - Train

Hey There Delilah - Plain White T’s

Dance to This - Troye Sivan & Ariana Grande

Partition - Beyoncé

All For Us - Labrinth & Zendaya

Get On Your Knees - Nicki Minaj and Ariana Grande

Go Loko - YG

Obsessed - Maggie Lindemann

Hurts Like Hell - Madison Beer

Future Nostalgia - Dua Lipa

Bubblegum Bitch - Marina

Toosie Slide - Drake

Songs Madison bops because she relates to them in some way:

I Have Questions - Camila Cabello

Piece By Piece - Kelly Clarkson

Because of You - Kelly Clarkson

Invisible Chains - Lauren Jauregui

Everything I Wanted - Billie Eilish

When the Party’s Over - Billie Eilish

Paparazzi - Lady Gaga

Bad Reputation - Shawn Mendes

The Fear - Lilly Allen

Two Ghosts - Harry Styles

Not Today - Alessia Cara

Back to You - Selena Gomez

Rehab - Amy Winehouse

Girl Crush - Little Big Town

i hate u, i love you - oliva o’brian & gnash

When You’re Ready - Shawn Mendes

I Am Not a Robot - Marina

Dollhouse - Melanie Martinez

Princess Cut - Adore Delano

Pity Party - Melanie Martinez

Rainbow - Kesha

Iris - The Goo Goo Dolls

Dear Society - Madison Beer

Goodbyes - Post Malone

Pretty Boys Cry - Adore Delano

Negative Nancy - Adore Delano

Marvins Room - Drake

This City - Sam Fischer

Good Cry - Noah Cyrus

Topanga - Noah Cyrus

Selfish - Madison Beer

My Oh My - Camila Cabello

Scared To Live - The Weeknd

I Think I’m Okay - MGK

If The World Was Ending - Julia Michaels

Ohio - Jacob Whitesides

Him Too - Sinead Harnett

The House We Never Built - Gabrielle Aplin

All I Want - Olivia Rodrigo

DNA - Lia Marie Johnson

Moral Of The Story - Ashe

Wondering - Olivia Rodrigo

Both:

I’m So Tired - Troye Sivan

Dancing With A Stranger - Sam Smith and Normani

Summertime Sadness - Lana Del Rey

Happy Little Pill - Troye Sivan

Wanna Be Missed - Hayley Kiyoko

Bad Guy - Billie Eilish

Breakup with Your Girlfriend, I’m Bored - Ariana Grande

Out Tonight - RENT

7 Rings - Ariana Grande

Joke’s on You - Charlotte Lewis

Pacify Her - Melanie Martinez

Primadonna - Marina

Mother’s Daughter - Miley Cyrus

#reallife.task #playlist #this got a lil outta hand & there's like 50+ songs lmaooooo

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fanficwritersleague · 5 years

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Kudos, Comments and Hits

Let's talk about the dreaded Kudos, Comments and Hits.

Eeep!!!! Right?!?

I only wish to convey a perspective that had me thinking the other day. As many of you know, I have been working on Kinktober. Yay, right?!? Well, yes but I was finding myself a bit down because I have been working on these fics for MONTHS. Some of them are heavily plot driven and I was (am) very proud of them. And then I posted them… dun, dun, dun. I did what every fanfic writer does and I sat there refreshing until that first hit came in. Then, I refreshed again until that first comment came. Luckily, I have a few very loyal readers who I know will give me a little pat on the back. I was pumped to continue.

Fast forward to about a week later. I again got discouraged because there were seven fics and about as many Kudos and Comments. SUCK!!! The dreaded, "Oh, I guess they didn't really like these. Or, maybe they read these only because I haven't posted their chosen ship, yet." Huge bummer but I talked myself into continuing.

Fast forward once again and the amount of Kudos and Comments hasn't really grown. Now I could have had a pity party and thrown my hands in the air but I did notice something that I hadn't really thought of before. And why hadn't I?

As authors it is commonplace to desire validation. Especially with platforms like Ao3. We crave that immediate response. Let me just say that is a very valid response. It is the only thing we receive for all of our hard work.

BUT… GUYS AND GALS… Something I had never taken into consideration, and really, why don't we, was the amount of hits I had on each work. I mean, come on, one of the works already has 300 hits.

Now, I know what you are thinking. 300 hits and they couldn't just click a like button?!? Well, here's my thoughts on that.

1. I do believe that some people think that giving kudos to a smut piece will somehow put their name attached to said piece and they will be embarrassed.

2. Some people don't want to give kudos to things they think only took the author a few minutes to write. I know, I know. Rarely is that the case but I have found that my one shots rarely receive Kudos, while my long fics receive so many.

These are just a couple of points but I feel they are important to consider.

What I have found to be just as beneficial for me is starting a log of hits. All I did was write the name of the fic and next to hit, the current hit count. Then, as I went back to refresh and see if any new kudos had come in, I wrote the new count in my log.

My friends, when I did this I realized my hit count was quite astounding. And consider this, if there are 300, 100, 50 people reading one of your fics, that is quite good. Think about this crowd standing in front of you. 50 people would make for an extremely crowded room and dang it all of those people picked you!!!

#writing advice #writing is hard #writing #writers #fanfic authors

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someinvisiblestrings · 5 years

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i was tagged by @corneliastreetagaiin to post my top 10 songs that i’ve been listening to and tag 10 people! hehe love you ashleyyy

1. heartless - diplo & morgan wallen

2. somebody to love - onerepublic

3. roxanne - arizona zervas

4. pity party - melanie martinez

5. can we kiss forever? - kina, adriana proenza

6. lonely - diplo, jonas brothers

7. used to be - jonas brothers

8. down bad - dreamville

9. hot girl bummer - blackbear

10. nice for what - drake

i’m tagging ALL OF YOU!!! anyone who wants to do this go for it!! and tag me so i can see what y’all are listening to bc i really need some music recs!

#i'm basic I KNOW #about me!

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eponymous-rose · 6 years

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Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E21 (June 5, 2018)

Buckle up, keep your arms and legs inside the ride at all times... and for the love of everything you hold dear, don’t read the chat. Tonight’s guests are Marisha Ray and Liam O’Brien!

The episode starts with Marisha and Liam fighting over a bowl and then hugging. Brian: “Wait, it was that kind of bowl?”

F̩̤̹̹̞̳j̣͓̝o̶̖͍r̙͚̝̹̪͙͔͘d̪̭͎̮̞͜ ͉̤̖͇̦̗̕b̸͈̳̥̻̳̤̼u̺͔̩̻͚͍s̘͞t͎̼̺̜͉̝̞ ̣͉̯̤s҉͖̯͖ee̜͙̤͕͓̺s ͙̳̘͍̪̳́a͓͓͞l̫̻l҉̩̖̬̰͉̬.̝̖̙͔

Announcements: Vox Machina comic is still on sale, including the limited edition! Winners of fanart of the week will now be hosted on critrole.com! New Instagram account!

@critrolestats for this episode: This is the first episode of the new campaign to surpass 4 hours of gameplay (4:07:27); Beau got her 30th Nat 20 in this episode and continues to have the most Nat 20s, with Nott in a distant second place with 19; the Mighty Nein rolled their 100th Nat 20 in this episode (Fjord’s concentration save for Hunger of Hadar); Nott and Beau are tied for the most Nat 1s with 18 each, and Caleb ranks third with 14.

Of all the great stuff in the D&D Beyond ad spot, Liam was least surprised by Sam’s singing, because he knew he had the a capella chops to pull it off; he and Marisha got teary-eyed watching it the first time because of animation style nostalgia (it especially reminded them of Thundercats).

Beau is deeply enjoying having a friend in Jester, especially since she doesn’t seem to question Beau for who she is. “For Beau, it’s like appreciating an adorable little flower.”

Everyone was enamored with Mark and Cali. Marisha: “I loved how cute he was, his appreciation for cute things.” They’re going to try to Skype Mark in on Talks next week to see what his side of the experience was. Brian: “Probably horrible.”

Beau isn’t likely to be too dramatically changed by her near-death experience. "I think Beau was unconscious and then Beau was woken up and was like, ‘This is fine. This is normal, right?’” Marisha talks about how it would’ve been a huge bummer as a player to lose Beau before her backstory even came out.

There’s some speculation as to how long this campaign might be. Liam: “Could be shorter, could be 852 episodes like Naruto.”

Caleb’s passing around of Frumpkin is his main outlet for expressing affection; Frumpkin’s deep importance to him and the significance of handing him off to someone else for even a brief period of time will become more clear with future reveals.

Beau doesn’t think she’s immortal, but she still has the youthful perspective that risk-taking will probably work out. “It’s not that she thinks consequences can’t happen to her, it’s that she thinks they won’t.” Marisha points out that Beau wouldn’t really know how close it came since she was unconscious for most of it.

Gif of the week: Jester casting Speak with Dead and everyone freaking out.

Caleb knows Nott’s laying it on way too thick when it comes to his magical abilities, but he doesn’t want to call her out on it, because he’d feel a bit hypocritical pointing out someone else’s irrational behavior. "Caleb hates himself. Nothing gets through that wall.”

Apart from Caleb, Frumpkin is most comfortable with Nott, despite Nott "eating” Frumpkin twice. After Nott, it’s Jester. Liam: “Laura would kill me if I don’t say Jester.” Marisha: “I thought you’d say Yasha.” Liam: “I was going to say that, but Laura would kill me.”

Beau’s still processing how she feels about not getting left behind despite her worldview that everyone’s basically selfish; she wouldn’t have begrudged them leaving her behind (even if she weren’t dead in that scenario). Once again, it’s hard to reconcile because the players all know how close she was to dying, but that’s not really reflected in the game’s universe (she didn’t even have to roll saving throws; she was just out for a few seconds). Beau knows it was Cali who saved her, because she knows Cali has Levitation.

The parallel between Cali and Caleb’s backstories was most influential earlier, when Caleb warmed to her faster than he might’ve otherwise, but didn’t have much time to percolate and didn’t factor into his actions at the end of the episode.

Fanart of the week: a spectacular Mollymauk!

Beau saw Caleb’s actions as him being cautious, and that was fair and warranted and justified, and Beau knows that more than anybody else (along with Nott), considering she has the peek into his backstory. From Beau and the rest of the Mighty Nine’s perspective, they didn’t see the conversation between Nott and Caleb, and when it came down to it, in Beau’s eyes, having this thing that’s this potentially horrific artifact on their person when they already have the dodecahedron was just going to bring trouble down on them. Marisha: “This isn’t our jam, and if Cali is telling the truth and she is going to destroy this, great! Bonus points for us! If she is lying to us and she does want to go out and talk to Tiamat, I think, in Beau’s head, that’s another adventuring party’s problem. That’s above our payscale. That’s not why we’re here.” As a member of the Cobalt Reserve, she knows exactly how bad this kind of stuff can be. “What are we going to do, go around intercepting every potentially dangerous item that doesn’t have anything to do with us?” She emphasizes that Beau’s not a hero yet and doesn’t have that mindset. “I’m not saying it’s the right choice or the wrong choice, but it’s the character choice. (...) What she was trying to tell Caleb is ‘You had no knowledge that this bowl even fucking existed before Cali came along.’ Beyond that, she was going to go along with it until Caleb suggested holding Cali overnight. Due to stuff that Beau has dealt with in her backstory that unfortunately no one knows about yet” she wasn’t going to let that fly.

Brian talks about how much he admires that Marisha is willing to make bold character choices, especially after so many folks have seemed to enjoy attempting to tear her down for it. “That’s fucking awesome. You’re going to own the shit out of that character.”

Liam: “I want to toss out three ideas about all this, because obviously there’s been a lot of discussion about this, a lot of passion and debate. (...) One, I encourage everyone who watches our show to watch Rashomon. Something happens in the woods, and the movie is three different people telling their account of what happened out in the woods, and every story is totally different. Different people are the hero or the villain depending on who’s telling it. The other thing is that I know that VM was more of a family, and this clusterfuck of a-holes is not. This is not a Sunday School Bible parable class, we’re not an afterschool special, this is a character study of a lot of really messed-up people.” They might end up being role models, but it’s an ongoing arc. “And then the last thing is, this is a game of D&D. If Caleb can’t decide to have a moment, if Beau can’t grab the bowl, what’s the point of Dungeons and Dragons? I don’t care what gripe Caleb and Beau had together. I live in Caleb’s skin, so of course I associate and feel passionate about Caleb’s point of view, but it’s not the only point of view. The point is not to be right, the point is to have fun and get into it.”

Marisha: “I think ‘character study’ is the right way of putting it. We’re uppity actor types. We like making complex characters, and we want to explore that and see what these complex characters do, because people are complex, people are complicated. You hear a lot of people complaining about contradictions. I mean, yeah, have you ever had a Facebook post pop up from two years ago like, ‘Remember when you said this two years ago, you dumb shit?’ You’re allowed to be upset at our characters, and you should, and I think that’s why we as actors have jumped into this profession, is because we like making people feel things.”

Brian paraphrases Melville: “A great moment is about the opposite of what it appears to be about.” He points out that this wasn’t about a bowl, it was about what was in the rearview mirror for both characters. “Ultimately, it’s the stuff that brings you guys closer together.” He talks about how it’s probably harder for viewers to watch that after Vox Machina, given that they were more in the flawed-but-noble vein as characters.

Liam: “Caleb is trying to make good with the group and (laughs) is not doing a good job of it. He obviously saw the extreme parallel between [his and Cali’s] backgrounds. Because of the things that she was dealing with, he put on a different pair of sunglasses to watch her and make sure everything was fine.” At the end, even Caleb knew it was probably over-the-top, but he’d found out this thing and was awkwardly trying to communicate that to the rest of the group. “Caleb thinks that he’s a broken bag of glass that everybody doesn’t want to touch, and he’s right.” Even in a moment when he thought he was doing what the group wanted, he couldn’t do it right. “He’s been in a fucking asylum for eleven years.” In the moment, in his mind, he didn’t think his trauma had anything to do with his actions, and didn’t understand why that was being brought into it, and just disengaged. “Another thing with Caleb is that he doesn’t need, in this group, to feel like people respect him or think he’s cool; Caleb thinks that he is a piece of shit, so this is just confirming what he unconsciously wants. All he needs to do is learn more and grow, so if he needs to just shut up and deal with it, as long as they’ll keep him around, fine, because he just needs things that he hasn’t had access to for five years.” He’s getting what he wants out of this group: he’s getting that unconscious need to be told he’s a fuck-up.

Liam on Beau: “She is talking from her experience, she has nothing to do with what happened to him, she is not responsible for him, he doesn’t want pity from anyone, he barely knows how to accept what Nott is doing. So everyone get off her back. Caleb is where he wants to be, which is moving towards his goal.”

Caleb’s latest actions were too similar to someone with authority that Beau had trouble with in the past. Beau bringing up Caleb’s trauma was speaking directly to that point, which she and Liam have since talked about offscreen.

Marisha doesn’t think at all that this has destroyed Beau and Caleb’s relationship beyond the point of no return: “I don’t think that’s how conflicts between friends work. Honestly, I was stoked after all this, because I thought this was a breaking point that maybe we were all waiting for.” She also thinks it opens up an organic way to bring Beau’s backstory into the limelight, and she thinks having some of this out in the open will bring the group closer together. It’s tough for her to analyze that episode because nobody has all the information behind Beau’s reasoning yet. Brian points out that it can be really refreshing to be surrounded by people who call you out on your bullshit. “Those moments create respect.” Liam mentions that there is no friendship yet, because they haven’t known each other that long, but that this confrontration could be the beginning of a real friendship between Caleb and Beau. Marisha points out that it’s very much “I wouldn’t get mad at you if I didn’t care.”

Marisha mentions that she’s used to being cautious where she treads on the internet after an episode like this, but “if you’re upset at Caleb or you’re upset at Beau or you’re upset at Fjord for holding the sword to Caleb’s throat, I think art and acting and media and these stories are there to teach us about ourselves, and why we get these emotions towards these certain things. Liam and I have been talking all weekend about how fascinating the Team Beau vs. Team Caleb discussions have been.” Liam: “It can only come from people being deeply invested.” Marisha: “They care. And we’re truly blessed to be a part of something that people feel that passionately about.”

Brian: “There’s a difference between a conversation and lashing out between the actors.” Liam: “Just know that we’re playing strange people on purpose.”

Talks Machina After Dark (It’s Machine-a)

Oh.

Oh no.

Oh dear.

Marisha talks about how fun it can be to experience DMs who aren’t Matt, because at this point they all fall into the habit of trying to over-analyze his tells. “In my opinion, different DMs are like different teachers. Each one teaches me a different thing, and I love it.”

Marisha does her accent from the Stream of Many Eyes. Liam: “Casting director Liam is listening.” Marisha: “Oh, God! No! I’ll never work again!”

Liam and Marisha talk about how essential it is that they (and the rest of the cast) know each other so well and trust each other so much, so they can play out and explore those conflicts safely. Marisha: “There isn’t necessarily supposed to be comfort in conflict. It’s not going to be comfortable. I think it does take a more experienced roleplayer to make sure they can tread those waters safely, because there is care, and you do have to have personal care and after-care.” The two of them checked in afterwards, and all of them have been doing so since the first campaign to make sure they’re on the same page and feeling okay about what happens on-screen.

Liam talks about how embracing failure goes beyond rolling 1s or having bad things happen to characters. He legitimately was not paying attention when he nearly cast the spell that would’ve killed Beau, and appreciates that there’s enough of a rehearsal feel in the game to allow for those imperfections when they do arise. Marisha: “Yeah, thanks for not killing me, man.” Liam, deadpan: “It’ll happen.”

Swoleregard. Jumbeau. Beaulossus. Beaugantic. Dani: “Beauyasha.” Liam: “That’s a different thing. That’s not my job, to worry about that.” Dani: “It’s my job.”

Caleb is terrible at accents, terrible at impressions, terrible at musical impressions, but okay at singing (because he speaks Celestial). Marisha: “I think Beau would be full-on drumline.”

When they were going into a show for the stream this weekend, the whole audience broke into the D&D Beyond theme song. Marisha: “It was... it was so surreal.” Liam talks about how he keeps starting to sing it without thinking, then inevitably segues into another Sam song that goes “put your finger in my butt”.

#critical role #critical role spoilers #talks machina #talks machina spoilers #long text post

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stoweboyd · 5 years

Text

2019-01-23 - Daybook

There's so much passing my desk, I can't keep up.

:::

Panic is on the agenda at Davos – but it’s too little too late | Aditya Chakrabortty

Pity the poor billionaire, for today he feels a new and unsettling emotion: fear. The world order he once clung to is crumbling faster than the value of the pound. In its place, he frets, will come chaos. Remember this, as the plutocrats gather this week high above us in the ski resort of Davos: they are terrified.

Whatever dog-eared platitudes they may recycle for the TV cameras, what grips them is the havoc far below. Just look at the new report from the summit organisers that begins by asking plaintively, “Is the world sleepwalking into a crisis?” In the accompanying survey of a thousand bosses, money men (because finance, like wealth, is still mainly a male thing) and other “Davos decision-makers”, nine out of 10 say they fear a trade war or other “economic confrontation between major powers”. Most confess to mounting anxieties about “populist and nativist agendas” and “public anger against elites”. As the cause of this political earthquake, they identify two shifting tectonic plates: climate change and “increasing polarisation of societies”.

In its pretend innocence, its barefaced blame-shifting, its sheer ruddy sauce, this is akin to arsonists wailing about the flames from their own bonfire. Populism of all stripes may be anathema to the billionaire class, but they helped create it. For decades, they inflicted insecurity on the rest of us and told us it was for our own good. They have rigged an economic system so that it paid them bonanzas and stiffed others. They have lobbied and funded politicians to give them the easiest of rides. Topped with red Maga caps and yellow vests, this backlash is uglier and more uncouth than anything you’ll see in the snow-capped Alps, but the high rollers meeting there can claim exec producer credits for the whole rotten lot. Shame it’s such a downer for dividends.

[...]

I can think of no better metaphor for the current disarray of the Davos set than the fact that Emmanuel Macron – surely the elite’s platonic ideal of a politician, with his eyes of leporid brightness, his stint as an investment banker and his start-up party – cannot attend this week’s jamboree because he has to stay at home and deal with the gilets jaunes. It’s a bummer when the working poor spoil your holiday plans.

:::

How Companies Secretly Boost Their Glassdoor Ratings | Rolfe Winkler and Andrea Fuller let us in on the Glassdoor secret: any game will be gamed.

Glassdoor has become an important arbiter of employee sentiment in today’s highly competitive job market. A Wall Street Journal investigation shows it can be manipulated by employers trying to sway opinion in their favor.

[...]

In the summer of 2017, SpaceX recruiter Brittany Jacobson sent emails encouraging employees to post reviews in order to make Glassdoor’s “Best” list, said a person familiar with the effort. Workers were offered free SpaceX mugs for completing their review, said the person.

That followed a push in 2016, according to a second person, who said that SpaceX’s human-resources chief, Brian Bjelde, had taken notice of negative reviews that complained about SpaceX’s long hours and poor management.

SpaceX employees flooded Glassdoor with 180 five-star reviews in October 2016. In most months that year, it earned less than a dozen five-star reviews. It had other spikes in 2017 and 2018.

Some months with high numbers of reviews came after interns were recruited, according to the first person familiar with the effort. They provided more than 84% of five-star reviews in July 2016 and in August 2017. Glassdoor allows users to filter out certain employee categories, such as interns and contractors.

Ms. Jacobson took credit for the campaigns on her LinkedIn profile, writing that she executed “company-wide employer branding campaigns” on Glassdoor, increasing the number of reviews by more than 1,000, raising the company’s overall rating to 4.4 stars from 3.8 and resulting in SpaceX landing on Glassdoor’s “Best” list two years in a row.

Same story with SAP, Bain, etc.

#wfd

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I Have a Dream | John Hagel

#readlater

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The Real future of the Platform Economy: Citizen Entrepreneurship and a Market Reset | Simon Cicero

#readlater

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Thingification | Euan Semple's glorious brevity:

The process of thingification (turning a useful idea into the latest thing and thereby rendering it useless) appears unstoppable. In the context of work it happened with collaboration, innovation, and creativity. It is even happening with disruption! It happened with blogging, it happened with YouTube, it's happening with podcasting.

All these potentially powerful attempts at building a new world using new tools being rendered safe by assimilation into the old.

Is this inevitable, or can we each do our bit to stop it happening? Being careful with our use of language, particularly jargon. Checking our intent and resisting bandwagons. Ignoring the most blatant attempts at cooption and manipulation.

Every time someone calls themselves a "social media influencer" an angel dies.

Snap.

#wfd

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CEOs' curbed confidence spells caution | PwC's 22nd Annual Global CEO Survey shows that 2018's confidence has run into headwinds [emphasis mine]

Reality check -- Last year saw a record jump in optimism regarding global growth prospects in 2018, and this exuberance translated across regions. This year, by contrast, saw a record jump in pessimism, with nearly 30% of CEOs projecting a decline in global economic growth, up from a mere 5% last year. CEOs also reported a noteworthy dip in confidence in their own organisations’ revenue prospects over the short (12-month) and medium (three-year) term. If CEOs’ confidence continues to be a leading indicator, global economic growth will slow down in 2019.

Look inside-out for growth -- Across the survey rang a general theme of hunkering down as CEOs adapt to the strong nationalist and populist sentiment sweeping the globe. The threats they consider most pressing are less existential (e.g. terrorism, climate change) and more related to the ease of doing business in the markets where they operate (e.g. overregulation, policy uncertainty, availability of key skills, trade conflicts). When asked to identify the most attractive foreign markets for investment, CEOs are narrowing their choices and expressing more uncertainty.

Mind the information and skills gaps -- In addition to the fault lines developing geopolitically, CEOs are working to bridge the gaps in their own capabilities. Organisations are struggling to translate a deluge of data into better decision making. There is a shortage of skilled talent to clean, integrate, and extract value from big data and move beyond baby steps toward artificial intelligence (AI). One of the more striking findings in this year’s survey was the fact that — despite billions of dollars of investment and priority positioning on the C-suite agenda — the gap between the information CEOs need and what they get has not closed in the past ten years.

Uh-oh.

See CEOs Freak Out, in process.

#wfd

:::

I've fallen behind on Esko Kilpi's contributions:

Living with paradoxes – Esko Kilpi – Medium

Biology, Blockchains and Quantum Physics – Esko Kilpi – Medium

I am not I – Medium

#readlater

:::

Design Unbound. Designing for Emergence in a White Water World | Ann Pendleton-Jullian and John Seely Brown

I need to get a review copy

#readlater

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Crisp's Blog » Bootstrapping a Working Agreement for the Agile Team | I like this approach to consent-based voting.

#wfd

:::

Using Neuroscience to Make Feedback Work and Feel Better | David Rock, Beth Jones, and Chris Weller:

Research has found roughly 87 percent of employees want to “be developed” in their job, but only a third report actually receiving the feedback they need to engage and improve. The reason for the gap is hardly a mystery: Typical feedback conversations are about as pleasant as a root canal. Managers dread them because it’s often unclear what kind of feedback the employee wants or needs, and employees dread them because even light criticism can feel like an assault on their status and credibility. Indeed, West and Thorson’s new study found that receivers’ heart rates jumped enough to indicate moderate or extreme duress in unprompted feedback situations.

[...]

Research is suggesting that by switching from giving feedback to asking for it, organizations can tilt their culture toward continuous improvement.

[...]

Psychologists have come to label this phenomenon “brittle smiles.” It happens when people try to adhere to a “culture of niceness,” as West calls it, even though they really want to speak or act more candidly and critically. So they overcompensate. They smile too much and become overly positive in their speech.

To West’s mind, asking for feedback is the best way to avoid brittle smiles and the culture of niceness. “When you ask for feedback, you’re licensing people to be critical of you,” she says. “It may feel a little more uncomfortable, but you’re going to get honest, more constructive feedback.”

[...]

West says it’s up to employees to equip their managers with the right kinds of questions — a help-them-help-you approach to feedback, she says. These can include “Could you please give feedback on my presentation skills?” or “Should I have spoken up more in yesterday’s meeting?” The tactic helps managers avoid what relationship psychologists call “kitchen sinking.”

In kitchen sinking, “You say one thing that sucks, and then you pile everything else on that sucks,” West says. When employees ask for explicit feedback, they give their manager clearer boundaries.

[The essay also includes a pull quote on Mental Contrasting, that is a good standalone takeaway.]

#wfd

#feedback #mentalcontrasting

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After the Storm | Ben Ehrenreich

The son of Barbara Enrenreich

#readlater

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“The Linux of social media”—How LiveJournal pioneered (then lost) blogging | A long, sad story with no real lessons to be learned.

#livejournal

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US government v Silicon Valley: Oracle said to owe $400m to women and minorities | Technology | The Guardian

#readlater #wfd

:::

How leaders are navigating the Fourth Industrial Revolution | Deloitte

A year ago, Deloitte’s inaugural survey assessing private and public sector readiness for the Fourth Industrial Revolution observed a “tension between hope and ambiguity.” We found while executives conceptually understood the profound business and societal changes Industry 4.0 may bring, they were less certain how they could take action to benefit. The Fourth Industrial Revolution enables an increasingly globalized world, one in which advanced technologies can drive new opportunities, diverse ideas can be heard, and new forms of communication may come to the fore (for a detailed definition of Industry 4.0, see What is Industry 4.0?). But how are leaders adjusting? Our new survey suggests many who think they are ready may still not be as prepared as they need to be. But the good news is leaders seem to be gaining a much deeper understanding of Industry 4.0, are increasingly aware of the challenges before them, and are viewing the actions needed to succeed more realistically.

Our latest survey polled more than 2,000 C-suite executives across 19 countries, coupled with select interviews. The goal was to uncover how leaders are taking effective action, where they are making the most progress, and what sets the most effective leaders apart.

Executives express a genuine commitment to improving the world. Leaders rated “societal impact” as the most important factor when evaluating their organizations’ annual performance, ahead of financial performance and customer or employee satisfaction. In the past year, three-quarters of respondents said their organizations took steps to make or change products or services with societal impact in mind. Many are motivated by the promise of new revenue and growth, but leaders are split on whether such initiatives can and will generate profit.

Executives are struggling to develop effective strategies in today’s rapidly changing markets. Faced with an ever-increasing array of new technologies, leaders acknowledged they have too many options from which to choose and, in some cases, they lack the strategic vision to help guide their efforts. Organizational influences also challenge leaders as they seek to navigate Industry 4.0. Many leaders reported their companies don’t follow clearly defined decision-making processes, and organizational silos limit their ability to develop and share knowledge to determine effective strategies.

Leaders continue to focus more on using advanced technologies to protect their positions rather than make bold investments to drive disruption. Although many of the businesses that have made investments in technology are seeing payoffs, others are finding it difficult to take the step toward investing—even as digital technologies are engendering more global connections and creating new opportunities within new markets and localized economies. Challenges include being too focused on short-term results and lacking understanding, business cases, and leadership vision. Leaders acknowledge the ethical implications inherent with new technology, but few companies are even talking about how to manage those challenges, let alone actively putting policies in place to do so. Further, business leaders and governments continue to wrestle with how to regulate Industry 4.0 technologies.

The skills challenge becomes clearer, but so do differences between executives and their millennial workforces. Last year, most leaders (86 percent) thought their organizations were doing enough to create a workforce for Industry 4.0. This year, as more leaders recognize the growing skills gap, only 47 percent are as confident in their efforts. On the bright side, twice as many leaders indicate their organizations will do what they can to train their existing employees rather than hire new ones. And they’re more optimistic than last year that autonomous tech will augment, rather than replace, humans. But research from Deloitte Global’s annual millennial survey suggests leaders and employees (particularly younger ones) differ on which skills are most needed and who is responsible for developing them.

I guess all the consulting companies are writing reports for Davos.

#readlater

:::

#daybook

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sienna27 · 6 years

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TWD Spoilers - Dead Or Alive Or (8x11)

This is not a cheery post so unless you’re in the mood for grumbling, look away!

First, that’s awesome how they made Tara a fucking moron. I mean, could we go one story arc without someone either playing the Raging Avenger (Carl/Rick/Morgan/Michonne/Daryl/Rosita/Tara) or a Complete Pacifist (Morgan/Jesus/Carol/Gabriel/Eugene/Ezekiel)? I get it, feelings are hard, and they’re a little bit harder in the Apocalypse, but Christ, they play these same storylines over and over, year after year,and it really kind of feels like there are OTHER stories to tell. You know. And we finally get to a moment where Rosita and Daryl are working a hundred percent off intellect and not emotion, and here comes freaking Tara to play Bonehead of the Week! Yes Tara, we know you want Dwight dead. We all want Dwight dead. It’s not the time! He had just proven himself to be INCREDIBLY ‘helpful’ with the swamp escape route, and then you go run him off like an asshole. Oh but wait, that finally presented an opportunity for him to truly prove to her that he’s on their side. Who gives a shit!? She and Daryl still plan on killing him at the end, so *shrug* to that big revelation. It just raised another moment of making me actively dislike a character that I was previously fond of. I honestly felt this sickening turn in my stomach seeing her pull out her gun, and all I could think was, ‘nope, you do this, I’m done here.’ This might have been another thing coming out of the comics, but either way, they keep ruining people. Eugene used to be Amusing/Annoying but basically likable, if not frustrating. Now tonight he’s a Full On Piece of Shit Douchebag and I am fine with him getting tossed in the oven because I don’t even have a general level of ‘fondness’ for him anymore. Like if he’d died last year at least I’d think, ‘oh that sucks.’ Now he deserves whatever he gets. Fuck him. And Rosita, even if she’s using her brains again she’s still not redeemed from the Raving Bitch cycle she went through all of last year. I don’t blame her for Olivia, that was Glenn all over again, but I do blame her for Sasha. She got her captured and killed, and she was hateful to her all the way to the end. So again, don’t really care what happens to her anymore. King E was a fun likable dude, but then his little pity party he threw himself when he refused to help his people deal after the massacre. Not a fan at all, of grown men throwing themselves pity parties. Don’t care if he had borrowed a vagina by the time Gavin died. I just see him now as weak willed and I have no vested interest in his survival. Perhaps some people might think I’m being a little harsh writing so many of them off for having ‘foibles,’ but you can’t build a show around people who are already Anti-Heroes (having to kill just to get by in the world) and then then make the ‘good people’ lack basic moral fiber outside of the killing. What the hell am I rooting for? Assholes and idiots. Super. Basically, they’re kind of burning me out on Team Family.

And back along the lines of stupid, oh, oops, we killed another doctor. Because doctors are Red Shirts in the Apocalypse. I get that at this point it has to kind of be an inside joke for production that they kill ALL the doctors, but as a viewer it kind of takes you out of the moment watching them CONSTANTLY murder every doctor, always KNOWING that they’re mother f’ing doctors. There are no more schools! The doctors you have now.... that’s all the doctors. Ever. But yeah, kill them all. I was kind of cranky already when I watched tonight but this is one type of stupidity that has genuinely angered me since the pattern emerged. This is TWO doctors now that the Saviors have put down like there’s a frigging Doctor Tree and they’ll just go pluck another one. But wait, there is no Doctor Tree. And now there are no doctors. 😑

Also along with that scene, so Gabriel’s the blind one, yet Carson couldn’t keep track of the whole TWO people standing around him, and that’s why he gets shot. Totally believable.

Maggie. The LC crap tainted her. I was afraid it would happen, and it did. I tried to watch her but then the character was being obnoxious too, (let’s give rations we don’t have, and fun prison perks to the people who will slit your throat the second they’re given a chance, super great leadership) so I ended up muting her because I don’t care to listen to her talk anymore either. And I absolutely think that the Savior dude (don’t even know his name) who tries so hard to play nice with her, is going to end up being the first one to turn on them and kill someone in the camp. Fingers crossed for the J-man...but I know that’s not going to happen.

Anyway, I know this was kind of a bummer review but I really wasn’t in a great mood while I was watching so I was already viewing with a negative slant, and honestly I thought the show would make that better but it really just made it worse. I think I would have been okay with the episode up to the halfway point, because that’s when all the stupid/obnoxious shit started happening. Also the caryl reunion didn’t help because AGAIN, they showed the whole thing in the teaser! WHY?! I mean, why? Why?

Why.

At this point, they have literally shown us every single moment they’ve either shared together, or has been ‘intimated’ about the ship, in a teaser. Every moment. And every time I think, ‘they’re not going to blow their whole wad, they’ve got more on the reel.’ Except they don’t. They just keep blowing their wad. So if that’s the plan of the Einstein Monkeys working in marketing, I don’t feel the need to watch any longer for them. Seriously. Because eleven episodes into the season, I am one hundred percent positive that if they’re going to have them screwing by season’s end, that we’ll just see that on an official website release plastered all over YouTube. So why waste my time continuing to watch all this other stuff that’s bugging me? Again, I know I’m grumpy tonight but it feels like the right thing to step away now before I genuinely sour on the show. Right now it’s still individual characters that are fading to black for me. I still love Daryl and Carol, Rick and Michonne. Not much more, admittedly, (Aaron/Morgan) but I don’t think outside of Morgan, those other five will be going anywhere anytime soon so I’d like to come back to their world when I feel like I'll enjoy being there. That’s not happening on our current path.

And Carylers, I’ll still be writing (I really do have an update for this week) and I’ll be here doing my little photosets and if anything happens, please do let me know. It’s not frustration about the ship driving me away so don’t add me to the Debbie Downer negativity list, because that’s not it. It’s the larger arc that’s pushing me off. I just need Negan, et al, to be gone, and take whatever collateral damage is going with them, away, and we can all start fresh with something new in season nine. So, adieu for now. And anyone sticking with them, I honestly hope you enjoy the rest of the season :)

#caryl #caryl positivity #sienna watches twd #twd season 8 #twd dead or alive or

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