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foldingfittedsheets · 22 hours

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This isn’t funny like most of my story posts but enough people have asked some for my opinions about lubricants and general tips that I figured I’d do a little master post about it.

I’m not a doctor! I just worked in a sex shop for several years and picked up a bunch of helpful nuggets, here they are.

All the links will be funny stories though, if you’re looking for a laugh.

Lubricants:

Silicone

Silicone Lube Pros: This stuff is the energizer bunny of lubricant. A very small amount goes a really long way and cannot be absorbed into the body. For anal, those experiencing vaginal dryness, or just really good penetrative sex between partners silicone is wonderful. Silicone is also extremely inert and by itself cannot cause yeast infections or allergic reactions*. Doesn’t taste or smell of anything.

*Some manufactures may add things to silicone to cut costs that could negatively impact genitals, read ingredients.

Silicone Lube Cons: Not safe with toys. Silicone lube can bond to silicone toys, this is basically always terrible. Because of its nature it can be very difficult to clean up, rags might be necessary as water will not help you much. This lubricant can feel very thin to some people who might prefer a more substantial feel. Also it can stain clothes or bedding in large quantities so having a dedicated sex blanket or towel can save sheets.

Favorite Brand: Pjur. Spendier but best overall feeling to me, nice and silky and a single bottle will last ages.

Water Based

Water Based Pros: This lube is the work horse and skeleton key of lube. If you never want to worry about what bottle you reach for, water based always has your back. It’s safe with toys, condoms, you name it. It comes in a variety of thicknesses and viscosity, there’s truly a water based lube for every preference.

Water Based Cons: Tragically, we are made of water. Human bodies love to absorb the water part of this equation, meaning it needs to be reapplied more frequently. For certain activities or bodies it’s nicer to have a lube that doesn’t need quite so much reapplication. Additionally you have to be careful of what ingredients* get added, many cost saving ones are a yeast infection in a bottle.

*Never use Astroglide, KY, or Vaseline, they bank on brand recognition and make the shittiest lube in feel, performance, and body safety. Glycerin or glycol is always a red flag ingredient for vaginal use.

Favorite Brand: Earthly bodies WaterSlide. There are So Many water based options that it’s hard to pick. This was my go to because it has a pretty okay feel but its ingredients list is short and to the point with nothing offensive like glycol to watch out for. It rehydrates very nicely if you lick it, it doesn’t throw off vaginal pH, and it’s inexpensive and easy to get. Even Walmart has it.

Hybrid

Hybrid Lube Pros: As the name suggests this is like silicone and water based had a baby. This lubricant has more body than a traditional silicone while being much more long lasting than a water based on its own. It cleans up easier than silicone and is still a good option for any type of sex except toys.

Hybrid Lube Cons: Still not safe to use with toys. That’s basically it. It’s pretty great.

Favorite Brand: Sliquid. I love their hybrid, it feels very nice with more substance than a silicone on its own and they’re a very nice brand overall in every category.

Oil Based

Oil Based Pros: Oil based is almost always on hand in either olive or coconut oil, it’s second only to silicone in butt stuff territory and some people prefer oil. Like the Roman Empire, which, I can’t blame them. Tastes and smells pretty nice.

Oil based Cons: Cannot be used with condoms. Kind of a big deal! Using condoms with anal is still a good idea but oil based lost favor when it turned out it destroys the most common modern prophylactic. Additionally oil can mess with vaginal pH. Anecdotally I’ve had people tell me it was infection after infection and others who only ever used oil. Similar to silicone, tough to clean up.

Favorite Brand: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I’ve never had personal experience with them and I don’t know which way to steer you, sorry. Messing with condoms mean that this lube has struggled commercially.

More Below, just don’t want this getting too long. (Also in case I need to add to this it’ll keep current version circulating if this blows up.)

Notable mentions for lube:

Spermicidal lube: Truly terrible for you. It causes micro tears and irritation which open you up to more disease and infections, besides which it tastes repulsive and is not a very effective preventative. Just don’t.

Flavored lube: I really don’t recommend this? Good lube doesn’t taste like anything, I don’t see that this needs to exist. Vaginas do not like anything sugary in them, which all flavored lubes are by nature. For health reasons it’s extremely Inadvisable to eat out butts without protection. If you must use flavored lube on a vagina haver try to focus it on the clit and not internally.

Condoms:

Condoms come pre-lubricated but did you know: Most condom tearing is the result of insufficient lube inside the condom? For safer sex put a few extra drops of lube inside the condom to increase sensation and decrease risk of tearing

Don’t store them in your wallet. Your body heat will break down the condom much quicker than storing in a drawer. If you’re going to carry one grab it fresh for a date.

Condoms stretch but they need to be tight at the base. Tight however doesn’t meet cutting off circulation. That’s a cock ring. If you need to wear condoms I recommend trying a few singles to see what brand feels the best for your body.

There are lambskin condoms but I don’t recommend them at all. They cannot be tested for tears, they still transmit STIs and they feel like wax paper. Polyisoprene is better in virtually every way for those with allergies.

Most people suffer from low grade latex allergies making a lot of condoms unpleasant. Latex was the first material able to be tested for structural integrity (they run a small electrical charge through it to test for breakages, neat right?). However! A new material hit the market called polyisoprene. It passes all the same safety regulations as latex while being hypoallergenic and contains much lower odor which brings me to…

Favorite Brand: Skyns. These condoms are truly excellent, smell and taste of nothing, and are just as safe as latex! The best. Really.

Anal:

Do not just stick a dick in a butt. Anal is about patience and many people have an awful first time. I cannot count the number of men who came in to ask, “How do I convince my girlfriend to do anal?” No. Start small, little plugs or fingers, and work your way up. Make sure things are relaxed and very very very like so very lubricated.

Do not. Ever. Numb your ass. Many products try to sell you on numbing your butt for anal. This is how emergency room trips happen. You need to listen to your butt, numbing it is how tearing happens.

Don’t rip out anal beads. I feel like it should be clear why ripping anything out of your body like you’re trying to start a chainsaw is a mistake but it bears repeating.

Butts. Will. Consume. Do not ever insert anything into your ass that doesn’t have a flared base. A flared base should have a perpendicular width of two inches to be safe. Don’t end up an ER horror story.

#ramblies #sex education #sex ed

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calicoheartz · 2 days

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I don't know if you'll be comfortable writing this but...

Paige Bueckers x fem!reader going to church together🥹

All In His Name ; Paige Bueckers ﹢﹒

summary : paige bueckers x fem!reader going to church together 💗🪻

wc ; 678

warnings : just fluff + religious content , scroll if not interested

my master list ㇀♡

a/n : omg this makes my Catholic heart so happy and full ❤️ tysm for requesting anon! enjoy ◡̈

In the heart of the serene sunday morning, the sun cast its golden rays among your small and quiet town, gently awakening it with its warmth. While Paige was incredibly devoted to basketball, she also had an undeniable connection and passion for her faith. You, however, were trying to get more in touch with your spiritual roots, as you drifted away from it during your college years.

When Paige found out about your newfound interest in reconnecting yourself to your faith, she was determined to do anything in her power to help you, as your presence brought a different type of radiance into her world.

You both often accompanied each other to church on Sundays, usually approaching the old stone church with your hands intertwined, the soft morning fog tickling against your skin as you made your way to the pew.

Paige's heart skipped a beat at just the sight of you, dressed in your Sunday best, looking absolutely beautiful. She couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude with having you by her side.

As the service began, the blonde kept stealing glances at you, admiring the way you attentively listened to the sermon, and she couldn't help but interlock your hands, seeking comfort in the connection.

After the service, Paige led you to the church courtyard, where a small group had gathered for coffee and conversation. She introduced you to her friends, her eyes never leaving yours, silently conveying how much your presence meant to her.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, Paige suggested a walk around the church grounds. Hand in hand, you strolled along the pathways, the world quiet around you. Paige talked about her faith, her voice soft and earnest, sharing a part of herself she rarely showed to others.

You listened, captivated by her words and the depth of her beliefs. When she finally ffell silent, you squeezed her hand, a silent reassurance of your support and understanding.

As you neared the end of the walk, Paige stopped suddenly, turning to face you. In the fading light, her eyes sparkled with an unspoken question. Without hesitation, you closed the distance between you, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips.

Paige's heart soared, her doubts and fears melting away in the warmth of your touch. She knew in that moment that she was exactly where she was meant to be, with you by her side, sharing this intimate part of her life.

Together, you walked back to the car, the evening fading into night around you. Paige smiled, her heart full, grateful for this moment, this connection, and the love that bloomed between you.

As you drove back home, the evening stretched out before you, filled with the promise of quiet moments and shared laughter. Paige reached for your hand, her touch grounding you in the present, in this moment of togetherness.

Back at Paige's place, you settled on the couch, a comfortable silence enveloping you. Paige leaned her head against your shoulder, her fingers tracing patterns on your hand. The day had been perfect, better than she could have ever imagined.

"Thank you for coming with me today," Paige said, breaking the silence. "It meant a lot to me."

"I wouldn't have missed it for the world," you replied, your voice soft. "I loved being a part of your world, even if just for a day."

Paige lifted her head to look at you, her eyes shining with emotion. "You're more than just a part of my world, you know. You're everything to me."

Those words hung in the air, a declaration of love and devotion. You leaned in, capturing her lips in a tender kiss, a silent promise of your own.

As the night wore on, you talked and laughed, sharing stories and dreams. Paige fell asleep in your arms, her breathing steady and peaceful.

You watched her sleep, overwhelmed with love and gratitude. In that moment, you knew that no matter where life took you, as long as you had Paige by your side, everything would be okay.

just sweet little spoon paige 🥹 seriously tho this was so fun to write !! tysm for reading as always 💗

#wlw #wlw imagine #wcbb #paige bueckers #headcannons #my hcs #wcbb x reader #paige bueckers x reader #paige buckets #uconn vs iowa #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #church #christianity #catholiscism #catholic

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bunnys-kisses · 3 days

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jailhouse rock au - again! (master-list) <3

i imagine that simon would get rather insecure when you two were in public. while he adored you, he'd move the sun across the sky for you! but shouldn't you be with someone better?

someone who wasn't working a blue collar job in small parts manufacturing, who wasn't a former criminal? like simon stole and was locked away in the can for several years because of it! what kind of man would look a woman like you in the eyes and you'd say, 'i want you.', it left a clench in his gut that he couldn't get over.

he wanted to be good enough, but failed. just like he failed at being good enough for his father. sometimes his old man's words made him shiver at inopportune times.

"simon." you said.

"yes, love." his attention was drawn to you.

you leaned over, closer to him and rubbed his forehead softly, "you're getting worry lines."

he leaned in to kiss you, his hands were on your legs that were draped over his lap. he said, "sorry, love."

but no matter how much the anxiety bit at him, you loved him with your whole heart. you never shielded your love away from him, you found that when you were with him, you simply lit up. you could do all the mushy couples stuff together.

"we should go on the ferris wheel!"

"look there's a photobooth over there."

"i'm grabbing another straw to try some of that milkshake of yours!"

and simon ate it up. and as you got further into your pregnancy, you became more "mushy" as you said. you'd cry more often, but you weren't a weak woman. if anything you still commanded your little household more than before. because now simon couldn't say no to his pregnant girlfriend.

"yes, love." he said to your request as he was nuzzled up with your belly. he basked in its warmth for a minute before he got up to do what you asked.

your life wasn't without arguments, simon could be closed off and have a dark storm cloud over his head. but he would never tell you why, it drove you crazy when it happened. you knew so much yet so little, you had his entire life mapped out but his childhood (the root of some of his issues) was entirely blank in your memory.

"speak to me, simon... i'll never judge."

"i don't wanna scare ya off."

you reached out for him and got as close as you could. you stood on your tiptoes to be more eye level. you held onto his face and said simply, "simon, if i was scared off. i would've never sent that letter."

and simon replied, "never leave." and pulled you into a tight hug. and for the first time in many years, he cried. he cried so hard that he had to go on his knees with you because he felt so weak.

he was your lover, your pen pal! he was everything. and as you kissed him on the cheek you said, "nothing will ever take us away from one another."

later that evening, you thought you'd be sweet and feed him crisps from the bag while his head was in your lap. while he softly licked the seasoning off your fingers, you let out a small moan.

simon smiled a bit, his heart of ice was completely melted with you. and with a hand up the skirt of your maternity dress. his tongue was on your fingers while his fingers were skimming your pussy.

"tomorrow." you said, "i want to know everything i can about simon riley."

he looked up at you with those dark eyes of his. he nodded and said, "of course, love. now c'mere."

let's say that the most fun you ever had having sex with him up to that point was when he took you on the couch. however it did leave you with a pretty bruise on your knees from pressed into the base of the couch while you rode him. <3

#bunny writes #jailhouse rock au #call of duty #reader insert #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty smut #simon ghost riley #call of duty x reader #ghost call of duty #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley smut

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von2dutch · 20 hours

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Sugar baby | Jey Uso

Part two

Synopsis: Sex is not a big deal. ...You can have a no-strings-attached arrangement with someone you don’t care about.

Pairing: Jey uso X Black Fem reader | word count: 4.2k | warning: smut, toxic behavior , protected sex | 18+ ONLY

Hey my babies this is part two to the series hope you all enjoy this one as well! If you haven’t read the first one then go check it out. Part one| say the word

Tag list

@shayaaaaaaa

@trashbin-nie

@blacst4r

@paigereeder

@whatdoeseverybodywant

@empressdede

@superpietom

@bebesobrielo

@solefae

@skyesthebomb

@reci1996

Lastly , Enjoy

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“Jeyyy— ugh, fuck me just like that daddy” She moaned letting out a loud exclamation before enveloping the Jey’s head, her fingers tangling in his hair.

As she felt the chill of Josh's Sliver chain against her skin, a sudden shiver ran down her spine, almost like a fine mist of tiny droplets suspended in the air. The sensation was so cold and sharp that it seemed to permeate her very being, filling her with a sense of awe and wonder.

"Mmm, quiet baby, my pussy's talkin' to me." he groaned in inside her ear as he inched his fingers deeper into her hole forcing his curved dick down deeper. He tightened his arms around her body with her leggings wrapping ever so tight around him.

He wanted her to feel him alllll the way and he was successful at it. The aggression and lust filled the air as thick as a paper cut.

“Yessss Joshua!”

“You love me?” Jey moaned hormonally in her ear before flicking his tongue alone her earlobe, leaving a few wet kisses on her exposed neck.

“Huh? I asked you a fucking question.” he repeated once more speeding up his pace a loud gasp escaped her mouth with her breath taken away by how hard he was going.

He was an animal in the sheet per say.

“Yes!” Chanel shrieked out, sending shivers of passion coursing through her body, leaving her utterly in rapture. Her eyes rolled back into the back of her head as she felt an overwhelming surge of ecstasy overwhelm every inch of her being. She screamed it again, reveling in the pleasure swarming her body, reveling in it all as she told him how much she loved him. Her voice was filled with pure emotion as she said those words.

It seemed that in this very moment all he thought about was Dakota, all he could see was her; her soft touch, her gentle embrace, the light and playful touches of her short, painted nails he had paid for. It was as if she was wrapped around him with a warm, inviting hug that made him forget all about his previous encounters with countless women.

“I love you too.” Josh grunted afterwards, as much as he didn’t mean it he just said it in the moment to satisfy her.

“Daddy I’m about to cum!”

“Fuck…Cum on my dick Dakota , cover my shit!” Jey harshly mumbled on cue, Chanel reacted quickly as Joshua attempted to make a nut on her, pushing him away before he could go any further. In the heat of the moment, she lashed out and smacked him hard across the face. "What the fuck, Jey?!" she exclaimed, feeling a mix of anger and confusion at the mention of someone else’s name. Dakotas name at that.

“What?”Jey's eyes widened in confusion as he held his face, staring back at Chanel as if she had gone mad. He wondered if he had been too rough with her, or if he had accidentally caused her some pain. Before he could even open his mouth to ask her, she quickly replied with a response of her own.

Chanel shot a fierce glare at Josh as she crossed her arms tightly over her chest. "You just called me another bitch's name, Josh," she said, her voice dripping with anger and hurt.

“No I didn’t.” he denied.

“Yes you did.” She throw back at him quickly “you literally said Dakota, Do I look like a fucking Dakota to you? No so don’t call me that bitch name.”Chanel warned before wrapping the cover around her bare naked body grabbing her things off the floor.

“Aye, don’t call her a b!tch!”, Jey warned, his eyes filled with dominance and authority as he glared at the woman. Though he didn’t care who Chanel was to him, he wasn’t going to let her disrespect Dakota in his presence. He made his point loud and clear, his tone firm and unmistaken as he commanded her not to call her by those words.

“You know what, fuck you Jey,” Chanel shot back, angrily grabbing her white tank top shirt and throwing it over her head, storming towards the hotel door. She took one last look at him before storming out, shooting him a disgusted look as she left.

“Fuck.” Josh sighed before picking up the cover from the floor along with his black Versace boxers putting them back on he grabbed his phone from the night stand trying to reach Dakota with a call.

“Come on pick up ko.” He pleaded watching as the phone went to voicemail once again he threw his phone against the carpet floor taking a seat on the edge bed kneeling his head down rubbing against his beard mixed with grey hairs.

He had hoped she wasn’t mad about what he had said a few day ago, because if she was he didn’t understand why when they both knew the consequences of the situation. She couldn’t fall in love with him and neither could he.

He knew that he wasn’t ready for another relationship due to the recent divorce he went through a year before. The idea of falling into another serious relationship and having it go wrong was something he couldn’t bear to go through again. The difference was, though, that Dakota wasn’t that type of woman , but yet he knew he was falling for her. He knew he was falling deep for her, but he couldn’t admit it to himself.

A loud thud could be heard coming from the room as the door slammed closed, and his twin brother Jimmy walked inside, asking, "Yo uce, was that Chanel I just saw?"

Sighing, he lifted his head up and looked at his twin brother, stating, "Yeah, man."

His eyes widening and lips curling with an utter look of dissatisfaction and disgust on his face, he spoke, “I thought you were done with her, Josh. Man, where the hell is Koko at?”

“Don’t tell me you fucked up Joshua?” Jimmy stopped in his tracks staring at his brother, when he didn’t answer he knew he had fucked up.

Sitting beside him on the bed he asked “So what you do this time?”

“Uce she got mad because I said I didn’t think we could ever be a couple outside of what we do together. I mean I don’t see myself with her she just sex to me.” Josh confessed, even though it was slightly true he was also lying through his teeth.

“Look.” Jonathan forewarned “Steve wonder could see you like that Girl and is falling hard for her so just admit that shit man.”

“I know you aren’t ready for another serious relationship after what happened with Ashley and you last year, but Josh,” Jonathan said to his brother, “I know you, and I can tell when you’re in love with someone, and I can tell you’re in love with Dakota.” Jonathan went on to explain, even though it seemed like everything he was saying was going in one ear and out the other. He had hoped his brother would listen to what he had to say.

“I can list so many things of how I know you failing for this girl Josh.”

“Go ahead because I promise you I’m not in love with Dakota she just sex to me I don’t know why you can’t get that through your big ass head.” He joked but was serious as well he didn’t understand why his brother didn’t get he wasn’t in love with her as much as he tried to tell himself that.

“Okay, first off, you never take any of your clients to shows, especially live or non live televised ones. You spoil her rotten, you get mad when another man is in her presence, but you so-called don’t like her. She’s all you talk about at work, “Oh, I wonder what Dakota’s doing,” or “I wonder will Dakota like this necklace I bought her.” I mean, I could go on.”

“Two, You buy her expensive gifts and constantly check up on her to see if she needs anything. You stay up all night to talk to her when you should be resting before a show. You check your phone constantly to see if she has texted or called you, and you get upset if she doesn’t respond immediately. You’re always thinking about her, and you go out of your way to make her happy.”

“Three, You check on her both mentally and emotionally, constantly being there for her when she needs someone to talk to. You reassure her when she’s feeling down or stressed-out, and you make sure she’s okay emotionally.”

As he took in everything his brother was saying, Josh realized that he was right. He indeed did everything that was listed, because he loved Dakota, but he was scared. He was scared that the relationship wouldn’t work, but more so, he feared that it would, which is why he had been fighting his deep feelings of love for her all this time. The more he thought about it, the more his fear grew, but the more the feeling of love grew in his heart as well.

Josh loved Dakota more than anything, but for reasons unknown even to himself, he couldn’t admit it. He couldn’t even fathom the possibility of loving someone so deeply. It was as if his heart was locked up in a cage, and only Dakota had the key to his heart's release. The fear in him, the fear of love, was as great as the love he felt for Dakota. The love that he couldn’t admit to himself. The love that he was desperately trying to ignore.

“Alright, alright, I get it, Jimmy” Jey dismissed his brother, waving him off completely as he ignored what he was saying.

“Man whatever hurry and get ready with your hot dick ass.” Jimmy got up from the bed and headed towards the door, saying, “You better be down there in five minutes, Josh, ‘cause I’m the big brother!” He shouted as he walked out of the hotel room.

“Man, shut up! You’re only nine minutes older than me,” Jey shouted back, rolling his eyes, “and you act like it’s nine years!”

As Josh sat in bed thinking back to what his brother said he started to wonder did he actually love Dakota?

Was he also in love?

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Uceyjucey • Instagram Story

“Dakota, you better be freaking ready by the time me and David get there!” Jasmine yelled into the phone during their FaceTime call with the two of them, her expression of annoyance clear on her face.

Dakota decided to go out with Jasmine and her boyfriend to a new club that had just opened up in Atlanta about a week ago called Club Pierce. It was now around 11:00 pm, but she was looking forward to the night out with her friends. She just needed to get ready, but the thought of the new club and what the night might hold filled her stomach with butterflies.

Dakota hadn't talked to Josh in a few days now, and honestly, she didn't really care to at all. Her feelings were completely bruised and broken, and she didn't know if they would ever have a chance together. As he had said, they were only having sex and nothing more, so she could do whatever she wanted. And she would, she told herself as she got ready to head to the new club.

“Girl fuck you and David I’m almost done.” Dakota rolled her eyes before she curled the last piece of her hair, sitting down and letting the flat irons cool off and unplugging them. She then threw the flat irons under the sink and grabbing her phone, grabbed her purse and headed for the door. She heard a faint knock at her door and stopped in her tracks. She wondered who was at the door.

“Who’s at your door, Kota?” Jasmine said worriedly with an expression, and Dakota responded, “I don’t know.”

"I’ll call you back, Jas," Dakota replied with a confused expression before she opened the door. Standing outside was Jey, holding flowers in his hands with pleading eyes.

Rolling her eyes, she tried to shut the door in Jey’s face, but he caught it with his foot, walking inside behind her. Taking one look back at her, he asked, “Ko, baby, please talk to me?”

Chuckling bitterly at the nickname he called her, Dakota quickly turned around with a frown on her face. “Baby?” She quickly fired back, “Last time I checked, I was your client, remember, or maybe you forgot because you were too busy fucking Chanel.”

Stunned by her new found attitude towards him Josh threw the flowers onto the ground shouting back “Dakota I ain’t fuck her!”

“Yes, you did, you ass hole. She sent me pictures of you asleep, Josh, and I know your big-ass head from anywhere!”

“Look ion even understand why you mad we’re just fucking , you’re my client just as much as she is Dakota.”

“Oh, you’re damn right, I am.” Dakota said, trying quickly to bust past Jey but he quickly pulled her back gently, turning her around to look into her eyes. “Ko, baby, why are you really mad at me?”

“Hmm? What did I do so bad? That hurt you because I apologize ma.” Josh confessed, caressing her cheek as her eyes filled with tears but she dared not let them fall and let him see her break.

“Nothing, don’t even worry about it, I have somewhere to be remember , I’m just a client.” She snarled, snatching her arm away from him, opening the door and walking out. “And lock my damn door!”

Club pierce

"Baby lemme rub, lemme rub on ya

Can I get a lil' love, lil' love from ya"

My body addictive it's driving him crazy

Think I got run from ya

The loud, catchy lyrics of Megan Thee Stallion’s song ‘Big Ole Freak’ blasted throughout the night club, the party atmosphere being illuminated by the bright, colorful lights flashing everywhere. Everything about the night club was dark but colorful, making the atmosphere exciting and dynamic.

Dakota was enjoying herself at the club, glad that she didn't have to deal with Jey for the moment since it had been two hours since she got there. The music and the party atmosphere was a good distraction from Jey, and she could just focus on enjoying herself and the club's environment.

And he wasn’t going to ruin her night.

Jasmine leaned over, shouting over the loud music to get Dakota's attention. “Koat! You want a drink?” Dakota nodded her head yes, and took the shot from Jasmine, downing it in one go. The shot burned down her throat, but she barely winced, seemingly used to the sensation.

To say the least she needed the drink to unwind tonight because it was simply fuck Jey.

Jasmine was shocked at how quickly Dakota took the shot down her throat. “Damn Kota, you okay?” she asked, her voice still having to be raised slightly to be heard over the loud music. Dakota didn't respond at first, seeming somewhat out of it. She then shook her head slightly, seemingly not quite ok but pretending she was fine.

“Come on let’s get up and dance on the floor! David get your ass up.” Dakota shocked excited grabbing jasmines hand leading her down to the dance floor.

The two of them danced together, having the time of their lives as they moved to the beat of the loud lyrics being played. Dakota twerked her ass on Jasmine as she cheered her on and snapped a video of them, having fun and making their own party. “Get it Kota! They ain’t fucking with you!” Jasmine cheered loudly over the music, seemingly having just as much fun as Dakota was.

After a while of dancing, the girls felt worn out and tired, so they decided to sit at the bar and take a few shots. Dakota noticed the bar tender looking at her and flirting with her, and she decided to flirt back a little, since she was single anyways."

“So this your first time here?” The bar tender asked Dakota, wiping up another drink for a customer.

Dakota sighed as she rested her hands on the bar, seeming a little tired from the whole dance session and the alcohol. She smiled as she spoke to the bar tender, “Yeah, very first time my bestie brought me and I’m glad she did because look who I met.” and was then met with his eyes seductively, which she then held. She liked the attention and the flirting, and was not even trying to be seductive. It just came naturally to her.

Dakota was naturally seductive without even trying. With her innocent eyes that were slightly lowered and her plump and big lips, she had the ability to rule guys without even thinking about it. Her seductive flirting came naturally to her, and it made her even more alluring to the bar tender.

Dakota was enjoying herself as she sat at the bar, seemingly having a nice conversation with the bar tender. However, Jasmine stepped up and tapped on her shoulder, pointing in the direction of a booth filled with a group of Samoan men. “Dakota isn’t that Jey?” One who Dakota recognized to be Jey. She turned around, and saw Jey and Chanel together in the flesh, and she immediately recognized Jey Fucking Uso. Her eyes then locked on his, and she stayed silent.

Dakota couldn't help but eye Jey from head to toe, taking in his fit in its entirety. He wore a gray, long-sleeved sweater that hugged his muscled arms tightly, and a gold chain also shining from the shirt. His white pants accompanied his white Air Forces, and he had one black cap on his head, turned slightly to the right side. His beard was also neatly groomed, and he just looked Sexy asf overall.

He looked damn good.

“Yeah that’s him, so.” Dakota spoke softly very unbothered turning back around to the bar tender continuing their conversation. “So what were you saying?”

The bar tender was seemingly puzzled at Dakota's nonchalance towards seeing Jey. 'Especially the fact he was his nephews favorite wrestler “You're not upset about seeing him here?' he questioned, since a lot of people would usually be upset about seeing an ex or just someone they knew. Dakota, however, seemed unbothered and just continued the conversation they had previously.

“Girl you and Jey need to talk like Frl. Jasmine sighed and rolled her eyes, seeming frustrated over the situation. She knew that Dakota would tend to be stubborn, and that they had this sort of status together. She also knew that they were just having casual sex, but she didn't really want to pick sides on the situation because she didn't want to put blame on either of them.

Jasmine walked away and went back to her date, David, shaking her head in disappointment. Meanwhile, she noticed that Jey was staring at Dakota, and she just rolled her eyes, knowing that the drama between them would continue. She then decided to walk up the stairs. “This gon be a long night.”

By now, it was 2 in the morning, but the group of people were still inside the club, not wanting to leave. It was clear that everyone was having a good time, and the music and drink kept everyone entertained for hours.

Jey watched Dakota closely as she danced with another man, grinding her ass back on him and throwing it all back. She did it all while she stared intently at him, like she was trying to get a reaction out of him. Jey knew that she was doing it on purpose to get a rise out of him, and it was working perfectly.

Nonetheless to say he was mad. Angry more like it.

Jeys' anger and jealousy burned through him as he saw Dakota dancing and grinding her ass back on that other man. He wanted to walk down there and punch him out for even looking her way and touching her, but he knew that there were too many eyes and ears inside the club that would get him fired and thrown on the shade room in seconds. So, he had to try and stay cool instead and try and contain his anger.

Jeys' drink tasted bitter as he looked at Dakota more, his eyes glued to her. Chanel kept attempting to get Jey's attention, but he paid her no mind on the floor and continued watching Dakota. The whole club seemed to be watching Dakota more than anything, so all attention was on her, rather than Chanel.

“I see you eyeing her , Damn she bad you know her?” His cousin Zilla asked sitting beside him drinking on a glass as well.

Jey spoke possessively and confidently about Dakota, like she was his girl and that there was no one else. "She's my girl, that's who she is.' he said in a cocky and confident voice, his bassy, low voice indicating the possessive dominance he had towards her. As well as not wanting to show much she meant to him he did.

Throwing his hands up in surrender he replied back “ oh my bad cous but go get your girl cause she dancing mighty hard on dude on the floor.” He joked while Jey glared at him. Jimmy then walked up to Jey and put his hand on his shoulder, signaling for him to look up. Jimmy's presence distracted Jey, and he glanced over at him. 'Yo man, what's good? Need something?" Jimmy asked, seemingly unaware of the tension between Jey and Dakota.

Jimmy looked over and realized where Jey's focus was, and the sight of Dakota dancing on another man. He let out a sigh and said 'Josh, if you don't take your ass down there and speak to that girl. You've been staring at her all night, uce, and she's probably wondering why.' He had a lighthearted tone when saying it, wanting to ease the tension and get Jey to go confront Dakota instead of stewing in his emotions.

Taking the initiative Jey got up from the seat without a word heading down to the dance floor he brushed past the crowd and a couple fans asking for pictures he pushed the man back harshly before gently grabbing Dakotas arm “Dakota come on we leaving.”

Dakota was caught off guard when she felt her arm being rudely grabbed by Jey without any warning whatsoever. She turned to look at him, her eyes narrowing slightly, feeling slightly frustrated by the way he grabbed her arm without taking into consideration how she felt.

Dakota had a pissed off look on her face as she yanked her arm back strongly, showing her disgust and frustration with what Jey did. She had had enough of his bullshit, and she was clearly done with him and all of his stupid games. "Jey, fuck you. I'm not going anywhere with you.” She shouted over the loud music, being loud enough for everyone around to hear her and stop talking, looking for the source of her yelling.

Jey had a look of dominance fall over his face as he glared back at Dakota, his gaze firm and full of conviction. He knew that he was able to overpower and get his way with her, and he showed no signs of relenting either. When he spoke to her, he did so with a firm and final tone, “Dakota if I repeat myself you gon make the shit you got coming worse then it already is.”

Dakota pouted as she let herself be dragged outside of the club, following behind him and following his lead despite the fact that she didn't want to. She was annoyed and angry at him, but she still followed him, likely because she knew he was stronger than her and that he could easily overpower her. When she got into the car, she didn't hold back. "You know what, Jey? Fuck you. I don't know what you're on, but take me the fuck home," she said harshly.

Sighing in frustration he closed the door and got inside the car ran to the other side he pulled off getting on the interstate.

Jey gripped the steering wheel with his left hand firmly while his right rested on Dakota’s ’inner thigh, squeezing here and there.

He could tell that he had her body feeling some kind of way because he felt her somewhat shivering under his touch. He licked his full lips before taking his eyes off of the road and glancing over at her. “Look ko, Im sorry aight? I ain’t m—.”

“Whatever Joshua .” She mumbled, cutting him off while leaning against the window. “It doesn’t even matter anymore.”

“It do though, cause now you mad at me and haven’t spoken to me.” Jey's tone suddenly became softer when he spoke about how she was obviously mad at him. He was still looking over at her, and his eyes seemed to be more gentle and caring than before. "I'm right, aren't I? You're mad at me, and you haven't spoken to me at all." He said softly and calmly, as though he wanted to have a civil conversation with her.

“I’m not mad.” She denied once more.

“So you ignorin’ my calls , texts, and missing my show twice is you not bein’ mad?”

“I just didn’t wanna talk to you Jey, damn!” She yelled and smacked his hand away from touching her, now irritated.

“Don’t be raisin’ yo gahdamn voice at me girl! I’m tryna tell yo ass what the fuck it was and you ain’t even tryna listen to what I gotta say!”

“Because I don’t care! Better yet, pull over and let me out! I’ll find my own way home, I’m not about to do this with you!”

She reached for the door handle but Jey had gripped the back of her neck tightly, forcing her back body to come back. “Yo ass ain’t goin’ no damn where!”

Dakota huffed and folded her arms across her chest for the rest of the ride. Minutes later, they were pulling up at what she she knew was Josh house. Just as she looked over at him to fuss about him not taking her home, he leaned over the middle console and smashed his lips on to hers.

She moaned softly into the kiss, placing her hands on either side of his face as he placed his right hand firmly around her neck. The kiss began to get heated once their tongues started having an all out war, causing Jey’s dick to stiffen in his jeans and Dakota’s pussy to become moist.

Their make out session was broken when Jey pulled away while still keeping his hand around her neck. “You gon’ let me fuck you Pretty mama?”

“J-Jeyyyy.” Dakota moaned as he pushed two of his fingers inside of her, curving them each he pulled them out.

She was laid out across the back seat of his red Rolls Royce, completely naked with her smooth legs wide open as josh gently flicked his tongue against it a few times before fully latching his mouth onto it, sucking feverishly while continuing to slide his fingers in and out of her.

Dakota gasped when she felt his fingers start move inside of her in a circular motion, pushing her closer to her orgasm.

Josh felt her walls tighten around his fingers and Dakota gripped onto his shoulder as she felt her stomach tightening up. “You cummin’ huh mama?”

“Oh my God, yesssss!” She shouted as she came hard, covering Jey’s handsome face with her sweet juices.

“You taste good as fuck.” Jey licked her completely clean before sitting up.

Seconds later, Dakota sat up as well and pulled Jey’s face to hers, starting up another kissing match, which Josh eventually took the lead in and won.

She climbed over onto his lap, placing her legs on either side of him as the kiss grew more and more intense. She reached under herself and started to unbuckle his pants to free his beyond hard curved dick, something that she had been yearning for.

Josh caught her drift and lifted his hips, sliding his pants down and kicking them off completely. He broke the kiss to get rid of his shirt as well, throwing it to the opposite side of them.

Dakota reached down and grabbed his thick length, placing him at her entrance then sliding down onto it slowly, causing them both to moan in unison from the newfound pleasure on both ends. He gripped her ass tightly, loving how her wet pussy felt around his dick.

She always fit around him, perfectly.

“Ohhh babbby.” She leaned her head back in ecstasy as he gripped her hips, massaging them as she rode him.

“It feel good ma?”

“Sooo good baby, fuck!” Dakota grabbed his face and kissed him hard. He slipped his tongue into her mouth and she sucked on it.

Jey cut the kiss and lifted her off of him, leaving only his tip in and slammed her back down on him hard.

“Waaait!” She screamed as he repeated his last action, obviously feeling too much pleasure.

“Ain’t no wait!” Josh began thrusting upwards at a faster pace, fucking her even harder.

Dakota felt yet another orgasm creeping up on her, causing her to grip onto his broad shoulders as he slapped her ass cheek. “Mhm, cum on this dick.”

And that’s exactly what she did, shaking violently as her juices began to flow out and down onto him.

Jey waiting a few seconds for her to come down from her high and then slid lifted her smaller frame off of him, placing her on the seat. “Turn around and get on all fours fa me baby.”

Dakota did as told and Jey then hovered over her, high key loving the view. He placed one of his large hands on her hips while using the other to stroke himself before finally pushing back into her deeply.

“Fuck man.” He grunted lowly, now finding a specific pace to stroke her.. slow.

She then started throwing it back a slightly faster than the pace he was going at, so he took the hint and sped up his strokes. He bit down on his bottom lip and closed his eyes, loving the way her pussy felt and the gushy sound it made as he repeatedly slammed into her.

“This my pussy Dakota ?” Jey asked before gripping her hair and bringing her head up.

“Yes Daddy, it’s yours!”

“Yeah?”

“Yesssss! Ohhh my fu— baby, I’m cumming!” Dakota moaned loudly, triggering Jey’s own nut that was now approaching.

“Hold that shit baby. I’ma cum with you, aight?” Jey told her and at that moment Dakota felt his dick throbbing inside of her.

“I— fuck josh!” She came and squirted, causing her juices to spray all over his lower half and push him completely out of her.

After needing a few seconds to calm down, Dakota pushed Jey back down onto the seat. She used her small hands to grip his dick that was covered in her juices and wrapped her lips around it. He held her hair as she rolled her tongue around on his tip a few times before swallowing him down completely, without gagging.

Jey’s head flew back against the headrest as he enjoying the feeling of her throating his whole length.

“Shit princess.”

“You a slut ass bitch huh?” He cheered on holding her hair gripping it with force. “Mmhm gimme that shit Dakota.”

Dakota came up for air and started massaging his balls with one hand and stroked him with the other, trying to milk him.

“Hold on Dakota, fuck!” josh growled out once he felt his dick twitching.

She placed her lips back on his throbbing tip and started sucking, which was all that was needed for his hips to start jerking and his warm load to shoot down her throat.

Dakota made sure that she sucked every last drop completely out of him before pulling back, claiming the spot on the opposite side of him.

Maybe they both were in love?

To be continued.

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter as well!

It was a roll coaster but it’s more to come but I promise next chapter will be better mostly romantic.

Comment any opinions on any of the characters or the overall of the chapter.

Till next time. Love you all thank you for tuning in!🎀

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scoonsalicious · 19 hours

Text

1.2 Bucky

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntire, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of alcohol consumption, some mild derogatory language against women, by women.

Word Count: 960

Previously On...: Natasha Romanoff invited you out to meet her single Avenger teammates. There's only one she warned you to stay away from...

A/N: For Bucky and Lily's POV sections, Major is referred to by name, and without use of you/your. It just made my life easier, lol.

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

He clocked her the minute she walked through the door of the bar. How could he not? She was stunning, what with the way she carried herself as she moved through the room, the way her hips swayed as she walked. Bucky liked to think of himself as a gentleman, but just the sight of the unknown woman in front of him was inspiring decidedly ungentlemanly thoughts.

He couldn’t believe his luck when she walked right up to Natasha, giving her a hug and joining her and Wanda at their table. His mind had been running, trying to come up with an excuse to approach her; he couldn’t believe he’d ended up with such an easy in.

“Remember how we talked about staring, Tin Man?” Sam said, coming up alongside Bucky and noticing his distraction. “How some girls might find it downright creepy?”

Bucky ignored his friend’s jab at his expense. “Who’s that?” he asked, jutting his chin toward where the woman sat with his teammates.

Sam cocked his head, considering the girl who had captured his friend’s attention. “I think that’s Nat’s friend… (Y/N)--something. Nat said she might be joining us. Heard the girl was pretty, but damn!”

Bucky turned to look at his friend. “What do you mean, you ‘heard she was pretty’?”

Sam shrugged. “Nothing. Just that Nat said she was inviting her pretty, single friend out with us tonight and maybe those of us without girlfriends might want to consider putting a little extra care into our appearance.”

Bucky glanced around at his friends– they did seem a bit more put together than usual, even Parker. But then he frowned. “How come Nat didn’t say anything about her to me?” He couldn’t help but feel slightly offended at being left out. Did Natasha not think he was good enough for her friend?

“Come on, man,” Sam said good naturedly, slapping Bucky on the back. “You may not have a girlfriend, but you sure as shit ain’t single!”

Sam started laughing, but Bucky wasn’t sure he understood the joke. That happened a lot, unfortunately. There was so much about this time he just didn’t get, and he often found himself too embarrassed to ask for clarification.

“What’s so funny, boys?” Bucky felt a small arm slink itself around his waist, and Lily was pressing herself into his side. He smiled down at her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and squeezing her gently. He was never too embarrassed to ask Lily to explain the crazy ways of this modern world to him; she always approached his time-dysphoria, as they’d come to call it, with compassion and understanding. He was infinitely grateful to have her as a friend. One of his best.

“Exhibit A,” Sam said pointedly to Bucky. He turned to Lily. “Buck’s just curious about Nat’s new friend,” Sam said, a sly grin taking over his features. “What do you think, Lil? She’s hot, right?”

Bucky felt Lily stiffen beside him. “She’s alright, I guess,” Lily said after a minute of looking the woman over. “If you’re into that basic, skanky look.”

Bucky watched as Nat’s friend took off her leather jacket and draped it behind her chair. God, the skin of her back and shoulders looked so soft, he caught himself wondering what it would be like to run his fingers across it. “I think she’s gorgeous,” he found himself saying.

Lily looked up at him in surprise. “Really, Jamie? I have to admit, I’m surprised. I thought you had more refined taste than that.” She gave him a disgusted look before disengaging herself from his hold and walked back toward the pool table to line up her next shot.

“Yeah, Jamie,” Sam mocked once Lily had moved beyond earshot. “How dare you find the attractive girl attractive, you asshole!”

“Knock it off, Sam,” Bucky said, trying to ascertain why Lily would seem to have a problem with the way the woman looked. He thought she looked amazing. Easily one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, in this, or any of his decades.

Sam chortled. “Man, you hate being called ‘Jamie.’ Why haven’t you asked her to knock it the fuck off by now?”

Bucky shrugged, putting thoughts of Lily’s words aside as he glanced at the woman sitting with Nat and Wanda again. “I dunno; she likes it, and it’s been four years already. Feels kinda weird correcting her on it, now.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Yeah, cause God forbid your friends actually call you what you want to be called.”

When he didn’t respond right away, Sam looked over and caught Bucky staring at you. “Hello,” he said, waving a hand in front of Bucky’s face. “Earth to Barnes? You okay over there?”

“Yeah,” said Bucky, blushing at being called out. “It’s just… she’s really pretty, you know?”

Sam sighed. “Alright. Now, I was gonna make my own play, but seeing as it’s been a dog’s age since you got any action, I’m gonna be a good friend and be your wingman on this one.”

Bucky smiled and turned back to the high top, delighted to see the woman looking back at him, this time, the sweetest smile playing across her lips. “Thanks, Sam,” he said.

Sam gently nudged him with his elbow. “Don’t mention it, pal. You know I can never say ‘no’ to a charity case.”

“Guys,” Lily called over to the two of them. “We’re starting a new game, come on.”

Bucky looked back, giving the pretty girl one more glance. Were her lips as kissable as they looked? He wondered. Get it together, Barnes, he chastised himself. You’re 106-years old, not a fucking teenager.

But damn if she wasn’t making him feel like one tonight.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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zephyrchama · 20 hours

Note

Vampire mc. Like it could be an add on of angst if like they failed to protect mc when mc got attacked by a vampire, got turned into one. Like they can make a cute but vamp!mc is thirsty now- 🧛anon

(I started typing one for each brother but they winded up a little longer than intended. >u< I'm gonna break this up into 7+ parts, one for each character! Gonna use this post as the intro and master list for it, so each time a new installment is posted I'll update this here. Part I will be posted in just a minute!) Intro:

Nobody was at fault.

The Devildom is filled with horrors. Dangers lurk within every shadow, eyeing you as easy prey and waiting for the right time to strike. It was honestly a miracle you hadn't been attacked sooner.

Despite that, everybody naturally blamed themselves. You shouldn't have been alone, they should have been by your side, why did they let you out of their sight? They had been naive.

You were locked up for a month in the Demon Lord's Castle, not that you remember much. The first two weeks were the worst. The room was bare, with a mattress and little else. The rare decorative wallpaper had been tattered with scrapes from your nails. You hardly recall anything more than flashes of confusing memories.

Diavolo restraining you with an anguished expression. Barbatos pinning you to the ground with a firm hand. Solomon chanting as you wailed and clawed at the floor by his feet, unable to cross the magical barrier that separated you from his tantalizing flesh.

You were not a pretty sight. It was for the best that those three would remain your only visitors during your stay at the castle. They wanted to look for a cure, but by the time they found you it had been too late. They knew this. They tried anyway.

Vampire metamorphosis is not a pleasant experience. By the third week you began to mellow out and regain conscious thought, but you were moody and irritable and oh so hungry. Your gums hurt. Everything felt hazy.

By week four you managed to stop yourself from gnawing on the mattress and it was decided that you were stable enough to return to the House of Lamentation.

Finally. You craved familiarity - your bedroom, your possessions, your best friends. But everything felt new, and you were a changed person. No longer the human exchange student.

Changes needed to be made, and it took a couple more days before you were permitted to leave the castle. With few words, you finally went back to your Devildom home.

Lucifer's Part here (The rest are currently still WIPS and will be updated here when finished.)

#obey me #obey me!#obey me scenarios #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me x mc #obey me swd #obey me vampire au #vampire au #ask request #obey me x reader #obey me x you #obey me fanfic #obey me fanfiction #obey me angst

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heyftinally · 1 day

Text

April 30th is the Day of the Homeschooled Child

I was one of the 1.7 million children homeschooled in the USA.

I am also one of Homeschool's Invisible Children.

I was heavily restricted at home - I was barred from nearly everything that my peers were connecting with. I had incredibly limited access to movies and TV, even more restricted internet access, and was even barred from many of the same toys my peers played with. This on top of my academic isolation made socializing very hard.

I didn't relate to my peers socially.

Children younger than me were more academically advanced than me.

I was socially unaware, and frequently missed jokes or made faux pas comments because I didn't understand how to interact with peers.

My ADHD went untreated my entire childhood.

And the issues were not only social. Despite living in a state that boasted some of the most rigorous checks for homeschooled students, I was missed. My portfolios every year were falsified - much of what they claimed I had learned I had little to no understanding of.

By the time I graduated high school "with honors" (that I did not earn and were entirely false), this is a brief list of some of my academic failings:

I had never written an essay, and did not know how

I did not know how to do a critical analysis of a piece of text or media

I was incapable of math above a 4th/5th grade level

I could not tell time on an analog clock

I could not identify more than ~5 states on a map of the United States

I could not identify more than ~5 countries on a map of the world/globe

I could not spell above a ~6th grade level

I did not know that there was proof of life on earth prior to dinosaurs

I did not know that the lymphatic system was real

And so much more.

I entered college woefully unequipped for both the academic and socal demands that were placed on me. At 18, I was closer to as 14 year old, social/emotionally. Academically I was much worse.

I had to work three times as hard as my peers to achieve the same results, battled my still-undiagnosed ADHD as well as my academic and social neglect.

I didn't fully know who I even was as a person, due to spending so many years being expected to fit a specific ideal that was enforced upon me 24/7 through the isolation of homeschooling.

This April 30th, I'm wearing green for Homeschool's Invisible Children - for children like me.

If you are a child experiencing homeschool neglect, please know that you are not alone. There are resources available to you, and your future is not doomed just because your guardians failed to educate you. I'm listing some resources below that may be of help to you.

Homeschool alumni/survivors who resonate with this story: we deserved better. We deserved education. We deserved freedom. It's okay if you're angry at your past. It's okay if you're grieving the life you might have had without homeschooling. It's okay if you're conflicted. I hope you're able to find closure and healing in whatever form that means for you.

And, because I know it unfortunately needs to be said, if you're an ex-homeschooler or a homeschool parent who feels the need to jump on this post and defend yourself, I need you to step back, sit down, delete your comment, and sit with why you feel so attacked by our truth.

This is not a personal attack on you - this is abuse survivors speaking up to prevent further abuse. It is not your place to tell us we should be silent.

"But homeschoolers test better and are more successful!" I'm sure you're dying to say. To wave your statistics at me.

And you would be wrong. Because here's the problem with those statistics.

Let's pretend we have ten homeschooled children and ten public schooled children.

All ten of the public schooled children take a school assessment. Because some excel at different things than others, the public school students average out to an 85.

Only four of the homeschooled children take the assessment. Of the other six, one is traveling with their family during the assessment, two are not permitted because their parents know they aren't up to grade level and fear backlash or judgement, two are mentally or physically disabled and so their parents don't feel the test will adequately display their knowledge, and the last hasn't received any kind of education in years because their parents keep them at home either doing chores, working a job, caring for siblings, or they are simply neglected and spend all day hungry and scared.

Of the four homeschooled children that do take the assessment, they do quite well, as their parents knew/suspected they would. Their average score is a 98.

A 98 is better than an 85, yes. But just because 4 out of 6 homeschooled children were above the public school average does not mean homeschooling is automatically better. If you tested the top four public school students, they might very well score a 98 as well.

However, if you included those other six homeschooled students, the average homeschool score would very likely be something closer to a 45.

So when we talk about Homeschool's Invisible Children, we're talking about those six that never got the chance to take an assessment. Those six who never had a chance to tell a teacher "I'm ten and I don't know how to read". Those six who may not even realize how far behind their peers they are. Those six who deserved to have access to supports so that they could learn in ways that actually met their needs.

So while your statistics look good on paper, they are not honest. They do not present the full picture of homeschooling. Listen to the homeschool survivors who were one of those six kids who never got to make their voices heard. We have a voice now - don't try and take it from us.

Resources for current homeschool students and alumni:

Khan Academy - basically free online self paced K-12 classes. They have fantastic explanation videos for the lessons, you can review them whenever you want, and you don't have to stay in the same grade level for every subject - great if you're trying to catch up and you're in 6th grad for English but 2nd for math. They have courses besides just core classes (math/english/science/etc), too! They run on donations, but it's completely free to use. Also, this site is used in my local public school system to supplement the existing curriculum, so it's not just for homeschoolers!

Coalition for Responsible Home Education - actively fighting for more oversight and restrictions on homeschooling in the USA. They mostly do awareness and advocacy, but they also have resources on their site for things like what to do if you don't have a high school transcript. They run on donations, but the information is freely available.

Probably the most famous resource on this list. Videos that give you a "crash course" (aka a condensed overview) of a wide variety of topics. These are best used as supplement to more structured lessons like Khan Academy, but they have a lot of merit on their own if they're all you can manage. Knowing a bit about something is better than knowing nothing about it!

#homeschool survivor #homeschool abuse #homeschool alumni #homeschooling #homeschool #day of the homeschooled child #homeschool's invisible children #coalition for responsible home education #crhe #make homeschool safe

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iluvmattsbeard · 2 days

Text

nobody knows like me (c.s)

master list

chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: nothing!

preview: you knew you weren’t like everyone else. Chris loved that about you. he loved that you were carefree and in the moment of everything. Chris’ friends on the other hand, thinks you’re a bit too much, judging you from the get go. you over hear one of their conversations and it crushes your spirit.

a/n: LIKES, COMMENTS, AND REBLOGS ARE VERY APPRECIATED! - L🤍

you and Chris have been together for a couple of months now. you guys were brought together randomly as you bumped into each other on a random afternoon when Chris was on his daily walk. he accidentally bumped shoulders with you, causing you to drop the paper bag that you had filled with fresh produce from the farmer's market onto the ground. when you bumped into each other, he was already captivated by your natural beauty and your unique style. he helped you pick up the fallen items as he repeatedly apologized. you laughed softly at him as you reassured him it was okay.

as you both continued in small talk, Chris eventually asked for your number. he promised you he would make up for the lost fruit that fell out of your bag and you took his word for it. after exchanging numbers, you guys eventually went on dates and he got to know you personally. he noticed little things you did that were unique that he admired. you were always radiating positivity and you never not had a smile on your face. every room you walked into, you lit up in his eyes.

the first time you hung out, he took you out for breakfast as you ordered smiley face pancakes and a large strawberry milkshake. he looks at your food and back at you. you had the biggest smile on your face like a little kid, making him laugh softly to himself. as time went by, he found out you and him were like children at heart. he admired the fact you still had that childish feeling. it made him feel like he could live without constant worries and fears. for halloween, every girl was in seductive costumes as you showed up in a bob ross costume. Chris’ reaction was priceless. he was not expecting you to show up in an afro and beard. “this is incredible.” he says with a smile. “i know. i’m painting you a visual of what you’ll be receiving down the road.” you say waving your paint brush around which made him laugh at your cheesy choice of words.

when walking down the street, you would see little bugs in the grass which you would pick up and freak Chris out. “Y/n get that away from me.” he says with a nervous look. you had a sneaky smile as you started to chase him with the bug in your hand. “how are you even holding that thing?!” Chris says loudly as he continues running. “it’s a little friend! it wants to say hi Chris!” you say chasing him. he starts to scream high pitched which caused you to stop and burst into laughter. when you knew Chris would be stressed, you knew how to get rid of it. you would lift him up onto his feet and play music, forcing him to dance out the worries and problems. which at first he thought was ridiculous but once he saw you dance, he couldn’t help but smile and dance with you in the same weird way. every moment with you was filled with laughter and joy.

it was like a magical spell you had him in. the more time he spent with you, the more he was attached to you and missed you every time you weren’t near. he could think of more memories he has but those were just a few that stood out to him. you made him feel comfortable and uncomfortable in a good way. you pushed him to do things he couldn’t do on his own. you were his biggest supporter and motivator.

Chris was sitting down on his couch as he hears the door bell ring. he knew it was you. you guys had plans to hang out with his friends today. it was going to be the first time they would meet you. Chris gets up from the couch as he opens the door. as soon as he locked eyes with you, he immediately lit up. every time you were around, he always felt a boost of serotonin. "hey beautiful." he greets you, instantly pulling you in for a hug. you grew a big smile as you embraced him with a hug, wrapping your arms around his neck, "hello handsome." you pull away still smiling as you continue to speak, "i'm sorry for running late." he chuckles as he notices the flowers in your hair.

you always walked to his house. on the way, you always picked the prettiest flowers to put in your hair. "yellow flowers this time." he says tucking a strand behind your ear. "yeah it matches my outfit!" you say twirling around to show off your long white skirt, a yellow patterned tube top, and a cream cardigan. he lets out a soft laugh, "I love it." you walk over to the kitchen as you sat at the bar stool, "so, when will we meet up with your friends?" you ask. "we're going to meet them later at Nate's house. he's throwing a little get together." he replies sitting next to you. you turn your body to face him, "are you excited?" he asks.

"of course I am! i've been wanting to meet them. your family was so kind to me when I first met them, i'm expecting to click with your friends as well." you say with a smile. "that's good. I've been talking about you constantly. they can't wait to finally meet you." he replies holding your hand. "well I can't wait to meet them! i'm just going to be me." you say as he lets out a soft laugh, placing a kiss on your cheek, "that's how it always should be. just you being you." he says with a smile.

“i’m going to warn you right now. they can be a bit much. so if you feel overwhelmed just tell me okay?” he says. you let out a small laugh before responding, “Chris, i’ll be good.” “okay i’m just letting you know.” he responds.

*time skip to later that night*

you and Chris arrive at Nate’s house. you both stood in front of the door as you hear muffled music playing behind the door. Chris looks down at you as he smiles, “you ready?” he asks. “of course i am.” you say with a smile. he stares at you for a bit as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, just like earlier. he then rings the door bell.

you see the door open as you were greeted by a girl, “Chris! you made it!” she says. “hi Madi. is everyone here?” he asks. “you know it.” she then focuses her eyes onto you, “you must be Y/n!” she says smiling. she greets you with a hug as you embrace her back, “yes i am!” you reply. she then pulls away, “Chris talks about you nonstop. you are definitely a natural beauty.” she says. she then focuses her eyes on your hair. your hair was long and curly, sort of “untamed”. you still had the flowers in your hair from earlier. she looks at them as she just ignores it. “thank you so much. you are gorgeous.” you say back to her. all she does is thank you with a smile.

you and Chris step inside as you look around. you noticed that everyone had the same type of vibe. if Chris ever lost you in the crowd, he would definitely spot you from your brightly colored clothes. the music was loud as Chris was leading you the way to find more of his friends. eventually meeting up with a few guys. “hey guys.” Chris says smiling as he lets go of your hand, greeting each of his friends. you stood there as you notice his friends’ eyes on you. you could tell they weren’t use to your presence. “this is my girlfriend Y/n.” Chris adds on, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. you smile before speaking, “hi, it’s nice to meet you guys.”

Chris POV

Y/n greets my friends as i notice them looking at her in a weird way. they were looking at her clothes and at her hair. “hello, i’m Nate.” Nate says while taking a sip of his drink. “i’m Baylen.” the rest of my friends introduce themselves as Y/n just smiles, “i’ll try to remember those names.” she says. they all just laugh at her response. “Chris tells me about you guys all the time. it’s great to know he has such good friends.” she says. the guys just look at her and smile awkwardly as Nate responds only, “same with you.” that’s odd.

I could tell Y/n was trying her best to keep conversations but none of my friends wanted to keep it going. “Y/n? do you want to grab a drink and chit chat?” Madi asks her. Y/n looks at her and smiles, “of course!” she says with her cheerful voice. she looks at me as i smile, which let her know i was fine here. they walk away as i watch them head towards the kitchen. i hear some of the guys laugh as i turn to face them, “what’s so funny?” i ask out of curiosity. “dude, where did you get her from?” Baylen asks. i raise an eyebrow, “what do you mean by that?” they all look at each other and back at me, “Chris, are you not seeing what we’re seeing?” says someone in the group. “what about it?” i ask. “she looks like she just stepped out from some hippie delusion.” Nate says, making everyone burst out into laughter.

i stood there unamused from his words, “how could you just judge her from the way she’s dressed?” i ask with a blank stare. “yeah that’s kind of rude of you Nate.” Nick says stepping in. “Chris is happy with her and she’s more than just the appearance.” he finishes. Nate just scoffs taking another sip from his drink. i look at my brother, “thank you Nick.” i say. he just nods as a response. “all i’m saying Chris, girls practically line up to try and get a chance with you.” Baylen says. i just give a confused look, “so? i’m happy with where i’m at.” i say. i then notice the groups attention wonder somewhere else as i go to look as well.

End of Chris’ POV

you joined the crowd as they danced around you. you were with Madi as she watched you dance. you didn’t know how to dance at all so the way you moved, came off a little different. you moved your body a bit weird which made people stare and laugh. you didn’t notice the stares as you continued to dance and have fun in your mind.

it catches Chris’ friends eyes and also Chris himself’s eyes. Chris watched you as he chuckled a bit to himself. he saw you were having fun with no care whatsoever and that’s what made him love being with you. you were so care free and you didn’t let stupid stares stop you from enjoying your time. “i’ve never seen someone move like that before.” Nate says holding in a laugh. “she’s something.” one of the guys say causing Chris to tense up. “she’s just having fun.” Chris mutters out. he stands there as he continues to admire you.

Chris POV

why did they have to make stupid comments? typical immaturity. this is one of the reasons why i didn’t want to introduce her. my friends are too insecure to handle a girl like Y/n. i just think everyone who’s staring is intimidated by the fact she knows how to let loose. i notice Y/n starts to slowly stop her movements as she looks around at the people looking at her. she shifted uncomfortably as she kept an awkward smile.

Y/n’s POV

i was never the type to care about what anybody had to say about me but, being here with the people Chris surrounds himself with, staring at me like i’m some type of weird disease, made me start to overthink a little bit. the one thing i don’t want is to embarrass Chris. so i stopped myself a bit as i walked away from the dance floor. “Y/n! where are you going?” Madi says chasing after me. “what’s wrong?” she asks holding onto my arm. i turn to look at her, “i just got tired of dancing that’s all.” i say with a fake smile. “do you want more to drink?” Madi asks. “just water is fine.” i say as she leads me to the kitchen, handing me a water bottle. “i should head back to Chris.” i say after taking a sip.

“okay! they’re still at the same spot they were at.” Madi says with a smile. i turn to leave the kitchen to head towards the group. as i was going to turn the corner i stopped myself once i heard their laughter and words. “yeah she dresses funny, yeah she’s a bit weird, and yeah she’s quite unique…” i hear Chris say. everything else i blocked out because i felt a sudden saddened confusion. why would he call me out like that in front of his friends? i could hear their taunting laughters which caused my eyes to build up with tears as i head out the front door.

Chris POV

“yeah she dresses funny, yeah she’s a bit weird, and yeah she’s quite unique-.” i say but got caught off from one of the guys. “that’s for sure.” which caused the group to laugh. “let him speak.” Matt sternly says. i shake my head as i continue to speak, “yeah she’s all those things but, i know how she truly is. she’s fun and she’s care free and i love that about her. she’s more than her appearance and her goofy antics. if you guys would’ve given her a chance, you would’ve understood.” i say before leaving to go find Y/n.

i looked around for a bit and i couldn’t seem to find her. i bump into Madi and notice they’re not together, “where’s Y/n?” i ask. she just shrugs, “i don’t know. she said she was going to find you.” she says. i nod and walk away confused. i soon step outside to see if she could be there and notice her sat down on the side walk. she was taking out the flowers in her hair, throwing them onto the street. i walk up to her and sit down next to her, instantly noticing the tears down her face, “Y/n? what’s wrong?” i ask with a worried expression. she just shakes her head and continues to cry. i go to hold her hand but she pulls away. i look into her eyes as i try to figure out what’s wrong, “did i do something?” i ask. “i heard what you said in there.” she says. “you did?” i say confused, “then why are you crying?” she looks at me with the same confused look, “w-what do you mean? i heard you call me weird and that i dress funny like i didn’t already know that. you didn’t have to call me out like that. i know i’m-.” i cut her off with a small laugh as she glares at me. “Y/n, did you stay for the whole conversation?” i ask.

she shakes her head, “no but all i know is that i understand now. i get i embarrassed you in front of your friends.” i smile as i hold her hand, “Y/n you didn’t embarrass me. if you stayed you would’ve heard me say that so what if you’re all those things? you’re more than just your appearance and your goofy antics.” i say causing her to roll her eyes. “hey just listen.” i say with a small laugh. “i told them they don’t know you like how i do. which is fine because you don’t have to prove yourself to them with how amazing you are, because i know. i know how truly amazing you are.” i say which makes her expression soften. “yeah you’re not like everyone else, so what? that’s what made me fall in love with you.” i say which catches her off guard. i never expressed my love to anybody before. she knew that.

“there’s something about you Y/n that makes me feel like the luckiest guy ever.” i say rubbing her hand with my thumb. i look on the side of me, seeing a pretty flower which causes me to pick it up and tuck it behind her ear. she smiles and more tears flow down her cheeks, “i love you Y/n.” i say wiping her tears gently which causes her to let out a soft laughter, “you really mean that Chris?” she says sniffling with a weak smile. “my love grows for you everyday. i really mean it.” i say which makes her even sob more, embracing me in a hug. “i love you too Chris. that is the sweetest thing anybody has ever said to me.” she says as i rub her back softly.

i just had to tell her that i love her. she truly doesn’t understand how she makes me feel. my friends? i don’t care if they don’t see her the way i do because nobody knows like me.

a/n: i don’t know i just thought this was a cute idea 😅 - L 🤍

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c00kietin · 3 days

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thank GOODNESS I could finish this- beneath the cut's a profile for them!! :D

buckle up, because it's a lot of information-

TENEBRIS!!!

Goes by they/them pronouns :D

Don't ask them for their age. Even I don't know how old they are.

The one and only leader of the Obitus Cult/Cult of Obitus!!

A very egotistic and anti-social being that has utterly devoted their loyalty to their "god" Obitus.

Can be quick to anger as well, lashes out on their members if they're really frustrated.

Of course, they're nothing like this around newcomers. Needs to somehow convince them to join, right?

Well, they can just force people if they wanted to with spells.

The magic they're capable of involves more chants and recitals, as well as making very strange substances and potions.

Their shopping list looks very strange, as you can imagine.

Kind of tying in the shopping thing, they get all of their resources delivered to their temple. Tenebris very rarely leaves the premises, and the members aren't allowed to leave at all.

They hate children. And chocolate.

And bright lighting- all the rooms in the temple are very dimly lit and all their clothes are darkly coloured.

This is their voice claim!

Their hair is quite heavy (and well taken care of) so you can guess that they're very slow.

MORE THINGS ABOUT THE CULT ITSELF!!

You can call it either the Obitus Cult or the Cult of Obitus- Tenebris calls it the latter.

This group made up of almost 100 people places their faith and loyalty to Obitus.

According to Tenebris- who claimed to have witnessed them in their sleep one night, starting up the cult the next day- Obitus plans on completely obliterating the Earth of humanity and civilization and told them to prepare for the end of the world. basically.

When this will happen?....Tenebris wasn't told that.

They also do not know what this otherworldly overlord looks like- however, they know an eye-shaped symbol (on Tenebris' hat and necklace) is very important as that appeared in their dream too.

The temple is located in a very secluded mountain range- Tenebris was simply told to go there by Obitus and it was already there. Convenient.

As pictured above, members have to have the eye symbol engraved into their wrist (or palm)- after this, they happen to be almost under a trance or brainwashed.

When praying to Obitus, they expose out the arm with the marking and their other arm behind that one, raised up to their face. Like this:

I hope that makes sense sjkksjks- while they do have lengthy prayer times and different types of prayers, a short and simple one they use is "We place our faith in Obitus."

The temple is full of many different rooms, including a dining hall, summoning room and bunkers (Tenebris gets their own room, obviously.)

They also follow a strict schedule- They must be asleep by 8 p.m. and awake and ready for the day by 4 a.m. They have two food breaks- one for breakfast and one for dinner. Once a month, they also hold a summoning ritual in order to attempt communicating with Obitus once more.

Members have their own jobs as well as worshipping Obitus though- cooking, cleaning, assisting Tenebris; that's all done by them as well.

While Tenebris mainly targets lonely people or those who don't have a social life, they are happy to accept anyone in! Well, that is if you're over 18.

I'm afraid teenagers (and children) are not allowed to join. However, Tenebris does take note of minors who do want to join and if you're REALLY nice, may let you visit the temple if you do some errands for them.

EXTRA FACT STUFF ABOUT TENEBRIS:

I based them more off of what first comes to mind when you think of cults- and, unintentionally, they also partially remind me of the cult in Spooky Month which I forgot existed ;-;

Because, after researching real life cult leaders, I felt like their stories weren't really what I was going for with Tenebris.

I guess the Peoples Temple founded by Jim Jones and the Family Cult by Anne Hamilton-Byrne were partial inspirations- oh, and religious experiences I've had, Catholic-Christian ones that is. (this is in no way meant to portray anything bad about that religion- or any at all- I just wanted to make the cult-y side of this more interesting by basing it off of what I know.)

My sister nicknames them Tenny and I (as well as others hee hee) nickname em Tennis, so you might see that often lol

I'm pretty sure they're the first oc I posted about on here! Although I think the post got like 7 notes-

When I first drew them, which was a while ago, they were more like a triangle shape and had larger eyes- my sister likes this version more but I think it just looks goofier- might post it once I find it :D

Tenebris means Darkness in Latin (according to translators) because I couldn't think of a name for them and just thought "think of something kinda edgy, then make it Latin to sound cool >:D"

Obitus means Death in Latin (according to translators once more I can't speak Latin-)

Thank you for reading this far!! I'm going to just tag @night-terrorzz @lobotomize-d n @gummy-worms-in-my-brain since you lovely people seem to like this cult leader :>

#my art #my oc #oc art #art #Tenebris #have a nice day/evening

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littlesparklight · 2 days

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I got curious about how Menelaos gets chosen in various sources and made a little list*: -In the Catalogue of Women, Tyndareos chooses/Menelaos wins because he offers the most bride gifts. [The oath is Tyndareos' idea, as far as we can tell.] -In Stesichorus' Helen (so, the probable first version of his that treated Helen and the Trojan war, not either of his Palinodes), Tyndareos chooses after exacting the oath to keep order and the suitors from fighting each other. [No way to tell if Tyndareos came up with the oath himself or was given the idea, by Odysseus or anyone else.] -In Euripides' Iphigenia in Aulis, Tyndareos allows Helen to choose after exacting the oath as the suitors have begun threatening each other. [Tyndareos comes up with the idea of the oath himself.] -In the Bibliotheke, Tyndareos chooses. [Odysseus is the brain behind the oath.] -In Hyginus' Fabulae (#78), Helen gets to choose because Tyndareos is afraid of the discord that might arise and that Agamemnon might divorce Klytaimnestra. [Odysseus is again the brain behind the oath.] *Based on checking those sources I knew mentioned it plus Gantz's Early Greek Myth, since he's thorough in mentioning if later sources talk about something even if the focus is on earlier ones.

So what we've got is that most of the time in these sources, Tyndareos is the one to choose. In the Catalogue of Women the man chosen is also the one that, on the crassest level, is the most "worthy" by having given most for the woman. (Though it's also the source that notes if Achilles had been old enough, he would have won Helen.) Of course, if there are lost sources that touched on the suitors and Helen's marriage to Menelaos, we won't know that, or what they said about it, but this is what we've got to work with, I'm rather sure.

Tyndareos choosing is of course the most "neutral"/normative option, as that would be the regular course of things. Tyndareos being the one to choose also doesn't appear to have any correlation (as far as we can tell, anyway) whether Helen left or was kidnapped. As in, there's no correlation to whether Helen is portrayed as "guilty" or not when her father has chosen her husband.

Helen choosing comes into play for the first time in Iphigenia in Aulis, and the context of it paints a rather specific picture, I'd say.

"[...] old Tyndareus with no small cleverness had beguiled them by his shrewd device, he allowed his daughter to choose from among her suitors the one towards whom the sweet breezes of Aphrodite might carry her."

"[...] carried Helen off, in mutual desire, to his steading on Ida."

First of all, of course one could probably say much since this is all part of a speech of Agamemnon's. But, if we're allowing what's being said to stand on its own (and if there is an agenda, which undoubtedly there is, it might be Agamemnon's just as much as about how the play, meta-wise, is choosing to represent this), something becomes very clear. Tyndareos is put forth as basically tricking the suitors, and so it puts blame on him. Helen, in being allowed to choose, is made culpable since she then still desired someone not her husband and because of that desire let herself be carried off. The chorus a little later after this both uses "carried off" as well as "fled her home to marry a foreigner". It's thus not just Agamemnon who is framing it both in terms of "kidnapping" and Helen leaving because she desires Paris.

In Hyginus we have no moral flavouring of the same kind as above, since the Fabulae are so very pared down in their language. At most it's a far more neutral casting of Helen being allowed to choose than how Iphigenia in Aulis has it. (But it's probable Hyginus got "Helen got to choose" from that play, much like Euripides and Sophocles' Alexander plays are probable sources for his own account of how Paris comes back to Troy.)

The wider context in which Helen getting to choose her own husband and how it's being portrayed is actually rather important, then, being used as it is in conjunction with Helen being portrayed as desiring Paris. And I think it's kind of interesting how Tyndareos is apparently at first perfectly capable of coming up with the idea of the oath himself, but as soon as Odysseus in later sources worms his way into the narrative, him having come up with it is the version that dominates (especially in later awareness of the story)!

#helen of sparta #helen of troy #greek myth thoughts #tyndareus

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keishawantskisses · 1 day

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List of things I am excited to experience in my K-pop idol dr(s) !

∘₊ ✧───────────────────✧₊∘

💭 — CONCERTS AND CROWD WORK

I FORGOT TO ADD SOMETHING HERE☠️☠️

Doing crowd work with my fans while performing is SUCH A DREAM FOR ME OMG. That's like one my main reasons I'm excited to have a concert because I want to interact with my audience; exchanging glances, throwing stuff for one of them to have and of course performing at my best.

🍊 — COLLABS AND HANGOUTS

Okay okay, I know I have yapped in the past about being excited to meet BTS, but first, let me name a list of groups/idols I am so hyped to be in a 2-foot radius of because sometimes a girl cant help but shriek at the thought of them🙈:

NEWJEANS ||

I FUCKING LOVE THESE GIRLS SO MUCH NO ONE GETS IT. Just a little fun fact, MKB(my own gg) is considered to be like an older sister gg to NEWJEANS because they are both famous 5 member girl groups. Some people even say that NEWJEANS' aesthetic is like a younger sister to MKB's; even though MKB isn't all that "mature" it does give off an older sister feel in contrast to NEWJEANS' AND ITS SOOO CUTEEE😭😭

WONYOUNG — IVE ||

In my dr, Me and Wony are really good friends, and we have each others contacts. I've gone to battle for her in my tiktoks and tweets against antis (I am very much popular for this too since it's considered controversial to speak out in defence for another idol and she isn't the only idol I've fought for😭😭) cus she's literally the sweetest idol ever?? I actually love her to death.

CHAEYOUNG, NAYEON, SANA, MOMO — TWICE ||

In my opinion all of TWICE is so cute and I freaking love them all, but I am closest to these four. They're some of my closest girl friends because they were the first friends i made (other than my members lmao) and I love them all so much please I can't wait to meet them (especially since MKB and TWICE both exist under JYP so we're basically always hanging out)

BTS ||

No, because you guys. the dating, fighting and relationship rumours that are gonna be floating around me are gonna be CRAZYY cus of how many frequent interactions I have with the group/ the members individually and how much i talk about them because I am SO down bad for them PLEASE (but we can't let them and army know you guys shhh🤫) and I also just be having the LOUDEST MOUTH EVER🏃🏾‍♀️🏃🏾‍♀️

But aside from how badly I want each and every one of them, Me and MKB are super cool friends with BTS; usually, 1 or 2 of us will visit them for whatever reason needed and whatever occasion like watching them behind the scenes, sometimes, we will appear on their lives in person or on phone (cus we have each others contacts😝🤞🏾), we always wish them happy birthday (as they do back to us), and few times some of us will make special appearances on their game challenges on RUN BTS too.

Also, I'd say I'm closest to being with Jungkook, Jimin, Namjoon, and Taehyung- BUT I get along very well with Yoongi, Jin, and Hoeseok too. I just hangout with those 4 the most out of all of them. [EDIT// Actually I do hang out with Jin too what am I talking about]

STRAYKIDS AND ATEEZ ||

More hot men. Idk what to say more about this LMAO😭😭

💭 — LIVESTREAMS AND BIRTHDAYS

MKB is most infamous (other than our music of course) for our ridiculous lives. But my favourite kind of live is the birthday one. The moment of appreciation and love sent from fans and the celebration from my family members and staff is so precious and important to me. The thought into the gifts and the messages mean so much more to me than what anyone could imagine and it gives so much meaning to birthdays because they are so important to me.

🍊 — PRODUCING, FILMMAKING AND BTS

I have always been a big music nerd and my urge to produce music for a loving and interested fanbase makes me feel so warm. it's just what my silly little heart was made to do.

I have also been super interested in being involved with the work behind the scenes , not just being in the scenes of our music videos. I really want to have a say in what the concept of the video to match the music will look like, the outfit ideas, the hidden lore in the videos. It's just such a dream come true for me, and I'm even excited for whatever travelling needs to be done, too.

💭 — STUPID SPECULATIONS/RUMOURS ?

Being nosey and attention seeking is a deadly combo. Always gotta know something, always gotta be talked about somehow (and I usually prefer the fake dating allegations cus they're just so funny and sometimes cute depending on who I'm being shipped with lol)

🍊 — FOOD

I am THE BIGGEST foodie there is I swear. I have always craved and cried to eat real Korean (and East asian) food without thinking about my money or my skin as well as usual meals too and as much as I want (because I scripted my manager let's me eat anything I want since I don't gain weight (I scripted this for all idols tbh cus I just want to see wony eat SOMETHING😭🙏🏾))

💭 — V.I.P STUFF

When I say VIP stuff, I mainly mean 1st class vacations and trips. I freaking LOVE exploring and travelling.. ON LAND. When I shift though, this will be my first time flying on a plane and I'm kinda excited, kinda frightened. I have a slight fear of heights so I'm gonna have to brave through it and try not to throw up or something.

🍊 — FANMADE GIFTS (fanimations, fanfictions, fan art, real life gifts, fan edits, etc.)

I am so freaking hyped for this stuff you guys stop. One of my main love languages is gift giving and receiving, and I already get so hyped when I get a gift on a random day from a family memeber😭😭.

The fan edits and fanfiction are gonna be crazy tho omg the ships..😭😭😭 (I WILL be looking out for the ship fanfics best believe.)

💭 — GOOGLEBOX BUT ITS KPOP IDOLS

"STOP TALKING ABOUT GOOGLEBO-" STFU AND LISTEN HOE🤬

Okay, so before I explode for excitement, I had this idea to make take the Googlebox celebrities and make a K-pop idols edition, and it couldn't be more perfect. Of course, you might be worried about how little privacy and time to myself off camera I may have now that I've added this into my dr, but never worry!

I scripted MKB to get 2 weeks to a month long breaks depending on stuff like exhaustion, injuries, meeting families, or just having a well-deserved vacation. I also scripted that our fanbase is very respectful of our space and don't bombard us if we're spotted in public.

@4ellieluv @cocozydiaries @samara444 @theshifterbear @livingmydreamlife5555

#shiftblr #kpop shifting #desired reality #law of assumption #master manifestor #4d reality #shifting #drself #shifters #loa #loa blog #shifted #reality shift #reality shifting #shifttok #master shifter #loablr

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television-overload · 1 day

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of our own making

(an X-Files fanfic)

Chapter 4/34 - phone battery

[Read on AO3]

After a bit of a drought of decent cases, their latest, honest to goodness X-File was a welcome distraction. It hadn’t taken too long to wrap up either, which was a double win for Scully, who could only handle so many nights in a dilapidated motel room in a row. With the case now solved, more or less, all that remained for the morning was a bit of paperwork and a drive to the nearest airport to get back home.

“Your mom called me last night,” Mulder says, sitting in the driver’s seat of their rental car.

“Last night?” Scully asks, furrowing her brows. “What for?”

“It was when we got back to the motel, after your phone battery went dead. I told her to give it a few minutes and try again, give you a chance to get it charged.”

Scully doesn’t respond immediately, and when Mulder turns to look at her, he sees a puzzled look on her face, a crease forming between her brows.

“She didn’t call you?” he asks, matching her expression and turning his attention back to the road.

“No,” Scully answers, concern marring her features. “What did she say?”

“I think she was going to ask you something about Christmas, figuring out plans or something,” he says. “I did mention we were on a case, maybe she decided she’ll just call when you get back and aren’t busy.”

“Probably,” Scully says, then sits back in the passenger seat and gazes out the window at the passing scenery.

He steals another glance at her, thinking about the heavy weight that hung over his brief conversation with his future mother-in-law on the phone the night before. It really had been a short talk, with her asking if he knew where Scully (rather, Dana) was, and then how he’s been doing since his unwitting brain surgery.

He made polite conversation, of course, but keeping such a gigantic secret from a woman like Margaret Scully has a way of making one feel guilty for things they aren’t even guilty of. If the call had gone on much longer, he fears he would have started confessing like a Catholic over the phone, and he couldn’t have that.

Clearing his throat, he asks, “You think we should tell her about us?” then quickly corrects, “I mean– the adoption, eloping…”

She shakes her head. “I don’t think so. Not yet,” she answers.

He shoots her another glance—only for a moment—but to be honest, that wasn’t the answer he’d been expecting.

“I know you said you don’t want a big wedding or anything, but if you want to tell her, you can. I doubt she’d give you any real trouble for it,” he reasons, having a hard time believing Mrs. Scully would be anything but supportive once everything has been explained to her.

“It’s not that. I just—” she struggles to explain. “With Emily, it was so stressful and confusing for her. I don’t want to put her through more of that unless…”

Ah.

He reaches over and places his hand on top of hers, which rests on her knee.

“Unless you’re absolutely sure this is going to work out,” he finishes, and she nods, grateful she doesn’t have to conjure the words herself.

“There are so many variables at play here, Mulder. Any one of them could go wrong,” she says. He knows she’s mentally making a list, calculating how likely each factor is to throw a wrench in their plans. She’d be here a while if she wanted to plan for every possibility, but that won’t stop her from trying, he knows.

He squeezes her hand once. “I hope you know that whatever happens, you don’t have to worry about me. I’m not going anywhere.”

That earns a small smile, and she looks down at her lap in that way that she thinks hides her blush from him. Thankfully, it does no such thing.

“No, the Mulder variable is one that I have on good authority is fairly constant,” she says, not quite meeting his eyes.

“Oh? And are those findings available in a peer-reviewed journal article, Dr. Scully?” he teases back. “If you don’t cite your sources, I’m afraid your claims may be dismissed as unsubstantiated by the wider scientific community.”

“I’ll have to get back to you on that,” she says, “I’m still working on gathering all my evidence. Research takes time, you know.”

“Maybe run some more tests,” he suggests.

She reaches out, running a hand through his hair, gently brushing over the place where his head had been drilled into.

“I’ll try to keep it less invasive than your previous experiences,” she teases, a small smile pulling at her lips.

He breathes out a laugh, forcing his focus back on the road instead of on the feeling of her nimble fingers tousling his hair.

-.-.-

Their discussion picks up again on the plane, perhaps serving as a distraction for his partner who isn’t all that fond of flying.

“You agree with me, don’t you?” she asks.

He gives her a look, his best impression of the Skeptical Scully Brow.

“Is that a blanket statement? Because in general, no, I think that would be factually incorrect, Scully, that’s kind of our whole thing.”

“I mean,” she says, rolling her eyes, “that we should wait to tell people. At least my family.”

He turns toward her. That she’s bringing this up again shows that it’s something she’s really worried about. If it’s reassurance she needs, he’s happy to give it to her.

“Sure, Scully. You know them best.” Really it isn’t his place to decide this, but if she’s asking, maybe she wants it to be. They will, in a way, be his family too if all this works out.

She takes a deep breath, her usual flying anxiety momentarily forgotten in favor of whatever new kind of anxiety this was. “I just mean– If we even get approved, and if we get matched with someone… there’s always a chance the birth mother changes her mind at the last minute,” she says, talking through the scenario aloud. “This will be hard enough with just you and I to worry about. I don’t want to have to think about protecting my mother from heartbreak on top of everything else.”

He has to suppress a sigh on hearing her pessimistic view of what he’s hoping will be a very joyous process. But then again, this is what he loves about her. She’s the yin to his yang. The day to his night. Together, they cover all their bases, leaving no stone unturned in their search for the truth. Why should this be any different? He won’t get very far on nothing but blind hope. She’s here to ensure they are prepared for everything, come what may. Unfortunately, that means her taking on an extra burden of worry, one he hopes he might help alleviate.

“We can wait to tell them,” he vows, hoping that will put a stop to her spiraling. “I’m with you on this, don’t forget. We’re a team.”

She leans back, her head resting against the back of her seat, a sign he knows means she’s relaxing a little.

Success.

Still, the idea of telling no one at all feels dangerous. They need to have someone in their corner besides each other, for a whole slew of reasons. Character witness, taking time off work, filing necessary paperwork so that everything looks totally above board when they make it official… Really, there’s only one person he feels they have to tell, and that’s—

“What about Skinner?”

She turns her head to look at him, confusion playing on her face. “What about him?”

“I think we should tell him. Sooner than later.”

Maybe he should have planned out his pitch a little better. He can tell she’s not immediately drawn to the idea. He should have made up a list of reasons why it is a good plan, not just blurted out his half-formed thought before it was ready.

“But Mulder, what if they split us up?”

He turns in his seat, his attention intensifying. “That’s why we only tell Skinner. Ask him to keep it quiet in case things don’t work out.” She’s gonna need more than that. Think! Tap into those persuasive skills! "But, Scully, there’s going to be times we might have to take an afternoon off for a meeting or something. It will be easier if he knows.”

His focused gaze implores her to consider it.

“I won’t let him split us up. It won’t happen.”

He can’t promise that, she knows, but they know Skinner well enough by now, don’t they? Sure, there may have been times when their trust in him wasn’t so strong, but it has been years now. Surely he would keep this to himself if they asked, right?

“Okay. You’re right…” she says tentatively, turning over his proposition in her head. “Just Skinner. No one else?”

His pinkie finger finds its way to hers and nudges it playfully. When she looks up at him, he smiles.

“Just you, me, and our big, bald boss makes three.”

~~~

SURPRISE - that was a short chapter, so here's another to make up for it

Chapter 5/34 - rulebook

“Hold on, go back to the IVF,” the follically challenged Assistant Director says, his hands tented in front of him. His brows furrow in concentration, and he breathes deeply through his nose, looking up at the two agents across the desk from him. “In vitro fertilization, right? So you’re saying—”

“Agent Mulder and I attempted to conceive a child through scientific means last year, yes.”

Scully’s answer is straightforward, perhaps hoping it will be like ripping off a band-aid. Judging by his stoic reaction, his pursed lips, the vein popping out of his forehead… her nonchalance does not really soften the blow.

His gruff voice returns after a moment of staring at them, his expression unreadable. “Right. Okay. Just wanted to make sure I was understanding.”

“It was unsuccessful,” Scully offers, continuing. “The ova that were fertilized unfortunately were not viable, probably due to the inconsistent storage conditions in which Mulder found them.”

“Yes, that– that’s where you lost me. The part about your abduction and then the cancer…” He sets a hand on top of one of the files Mulder had brought him, as if any of the words in that folder made a lick of sense to him.

“Believe me, sir, it’s just about as confusing to us as it is to you,” Mulder says.

Skinner clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

“Well, I’m very sorry about what happened to you, Agent Scully. I suppose that also explains the existence of… well…”

Emily. A story he never had fully explained.

“Yes, Emily was somehow part of all this. She was an experiment, never meant for me to find.”

Skinner balls his hand into a fist, tamping down the rage he feels bubbling up inside. “These men need to pay. What they’ve done to you– to you both… ”

“With all due respect, sir,” Mulder breaks in, “we’re not here to talk about revenge. We’re just trying to move forward.”

That’s… a surprisingly healthy outlook, coming from Mulder. What had Scully done to him? Whatever it was, the man owed her a heckuva lot more than whatever her last birthday and Christmas gifts had been.

“Of course, I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “So, what is it that you were asking for?”

The two basement-dwelling agents glance at each other, words being passed unspoken between them. It’s unnerving, the way they do that. Downright spooky.

Evidently, they come to the decision that it’s Mulder who should say the next part.

“Well, since we’re looking into adoption, sir, we thought it might be easier if we got married.”

Silence fills the room, an inadvertent staredown commencing between all parties.

“Married.”

Mulder nods. “That’s right.”

Scully is sitting bolt upright in her chair, a picture of professionalism on the surface, but in conjunction with the topic of discussion, it feels distinctly forced. Mulder, on the other hand, is bouncing his knee so severely that it’s a wonder he hasn’t worn a hole in the carpet below him yet.

“We just don’t want there to be any issues here on the bureaucratic side of things, if at all possible,” Mulder adds. “In fact, we’d prefer to keep this quiet, at least until we know if this will work.”

Skinner presses his lips together, shifting his gaze between them once again.

“Well, your personal relationship will have to be disclosed to HR at some point. I can pull some strings—”

“Sir—”

“Although it would have been good to know a little earlier on. Say, around the time you were making some pretty serious medical decisions that may have affected your ability to do your jobs…”

“Sir, I—”

Mulder’s attempts to interrupt go unnoticed.

“You know, I have to commend you. You’ve really kept up appearances around here. I had my suspicions, of course, but you continued on like normal, I almost wouldn’t have guessed—”

“Sir, we’re not actually… together.” Finally, Mulder is able to get the words out, leaving an awkward hush in their wake.

Skinner leans forward, turning his ear toward the younger man as if he hadn’t heard him the first time. “What do you mean?”

A pink tinge blooms on Mulder’s cheeks. “We’re not– Sir, this marriage is a formality, to make the application process easier and hopefully give us better chances of getting approved.”

“A formality,” Skinner repeats.

“Yes. We– We’re just trying to do whatever’s best to improve the odds that this works out.”

One of these days he’s just going to disappear to Cancún. Seriously, he’ll do it. This can’t be good for his health. He suppresses a groan, storing up a massive eye roll for whenever these two idiots leave the room. Only they could think up something like getting married and adopting a child platonically . Not to mention everything else they’d evidently been doing when left to their own devices.

“Right. That’s– Okay, sure. So then, the IVF…”

Scully pipes up. “I asked Mulder, and he agreed to help me.”

“As a friend?” He feels like this bears clarification.

“Is there something against that in the rulebook?” Mulder asks challengingly.

The look he gives them in return is withering. “I don’t think there’s a rulebook for all the insane stuff you two get up to, but I might have to make one, after this.” The two of them have the decency to look chastised at this, though he knows from experience it will do no good in the long run. “You know this is not normal, right?”

“Come on, Skinner, when have I ever been referred to as normal?” Mulder laughs.

“ You , I might expect this from,” he says, pointing a finger in his direction. “It’s Agent Scully that surprises me. You’ve really done a number on her, haven’t you?”

He takes a little solace in the fact that all this IVF business happened under Kersh’s watch, not his own. Imagine if it had worked…

“Will you help us or not, sir?” Scully asks, impatience beginning to make her uneasy in her seat.

He waves a hand in the air. “Yeah, yeah. I thought this day might come at some point, but… definitely not like this.” His mind is wandering already, thinking back to any signs he might have missed, things that may have gone wrong in his career to lead him to this exact moment. “You have my blessing, or whatever it is you came to get from me. You need anything, just ask.”

Scully lets out a sigh, and her shoulders visibly relax.

Mulder moves to stand without another moment’s hesitation, bouncing up with far more energy than a man of his age should have. “Thank you, sir. I promise, this is the last time we ask you to cover for us.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Agent Mulder,” Skinner warns, though his words contain no malice. If anything, he’s resigned.

As much as these two make him tear his hair out (what little he has left), he holds a certain fondness for them that is undeniable.

“And, hey– I’m happy for you. Seriously. The things I’ve seen you go through over the years, everything you’ve lost… You deserve this. Even if I don’t understand it.”

Mulder holds out a hand for him to shake. “Skinner. Thank you. Really.”

He nods. “Good luck with everything. And if you need any advice on adoption, my ex-wife’s sister has gone through it before. I can get you in touch, if you want.”

“We’d really appreciate that.”

They’re gone before he knows it, heads bent toward each other in secretive conversation before they’re even out of sight.

Skinner lets out the eye roll from earlier, leaning back in his desk chair in exhaustion.

They’d figure it out sooner or later, of that he is certain. It’s just taking a little longer than he expected, that’s all.

-.-.-

"I want to get married Christmas Eve."

The proposition comes out of nowhere on a Thursday afternoon, and Mulder nearly spills his coffee mug all over his desk instead of setting it down gently like he was trying to do.

"Next week?" he sputters, the burning liquid nearly going down the wrong pipe.

She purses her lips. "...That's when Christmas is, yeah Mulder."

"I knew there was a reason that guy on the street corner with the bell was dressed as Santa Claus," he jokes, wiping a few splattered droplets of coffee from his tie.

"Mulder..."

"Okay, okay,” he says, dropping the jokester act. “But don't you want to spend the day with your family?" he asks.

She shrugs. "Maybe.” Her eyes are locked on the desk in front of her, pointedly avoiding his concerned look. “I'll go for a little while, but they don't... understand me like they used to. Maybe it's just me, but when I'm with them for too long, I get this sense that they're... afraid of me. Or somehow uncomfortable around me. Ever since Emily..."

He stops her. "That's their problem, Scully. I'm sure they don't mean it."

"I know, it's just... hard."

He bites down on his bottom lip to hold back the slew of words he'd like to say to Bill Scully, Jr. He knows that's not what Scully needs right now, as much as it would make him feel better to have a go at him.

"Is that why you went ghostbusting with me last Christmas?" he asks, his heart softening at the thought.

"I don't know, maybe a little,” she shrugs. “It helped get my mind off things." She looks embarrassed to admit such a thing, but it only serves to make his heart twist in his chest.

"Well, too bad we don't have more time to plan. Could have had a Christmas Eve wedding in a haunted house," he deadpans.

This succeeds in getting her to look at him, and she emits a nervous giggle he doesn't often hear. "Absolutely not.”

He grins, leaning back in his chair and twirling a pencil between his fingers. "Come on, don't you think Maurice and Lyda would like to know we’re getting married? I'm sure they'd have a field day with all our issues from the past year."

"Stop it, that didn't really happen."

"Well even if it didn't, I found it enlightening."

"Good for you. No, the courthouse will be fine."

They fall silent, the jovial atmosphere settling.

"And you don't want to invite your family?” he asks, clarifying. "Since they'll be in town?"

She shakes her head. "No, I think it should be just us."

Just us. He likes the sound of that. But still, one problem remains—

"Alright, so let me get this straight... you want to get married—to me—the one day a year your brother is in town? Are you trying to get me killed?"

Her lips quirk up at the corners. "He won't find out, Mulder."

"You like the danger of it, don't you?” he teases, leaning toward her. “You're a rebel at heart. I knew it. Probably snuck out every night in high school to run around with Johnny from the football team."

She stares at him unwaveringly, not dignifying him with a response. "Is it a yes or a no?" she asks, arms crossed in front of her.

He sobers, meeting her eyes with startling honesty. "I'll marry you any day of the year, Scully,” he says, and it's the truth. It has been the truth for years now. “Just remind me to wear a cup in case he figures it out."

"You're ridiculous."

-.-.-

The next week passes in a blur. Arrangements are made, paperwork acquired, work winds down for the holidays, and for once, Mulder isn't bored out of his mind this time of year.

"I was thinking… for tomorrow..." her voice crackles over the phone.

"Not having second thoughts, are you?" Mulder asks, his tone light and teasing despite the tinge of genuine concern he tamps down.

"No, of course not,” she assures him. “I was thinking, I'll need an excuse to leave Christmas at my mom's."

"No problem,” he says with a shrug. “I'll give you a call and make up some case we have to work."

He hears her sigh and gets the distinct impression that his suggestion was somehow wrong. "I can't ask you to do that,” she says. “They already blame you for last year."

"Gee, that's reassuring,” he chuckles, leaning back on his leather sofa. He adjusts the phone cradle on his chest, stretching the power cord to its limits.

"Not all of them, but, you know—"

"Bill."

"Yeah."

He waits for a second, but when she offers no further thoughts, he asks, "Then what do you suggest?"

She waits a moment more before responding.

"Before you say anything, just listen to what I have to say…”

Oh boy.

"Why does that not give me a good feeling?" he muses aloud, his fingers twirling and tangling with the cord on the phone.

"The only way for you to be in the clear is if you're... with me, when we get called away."

"Scully—"

"We can just leave straight from her house, it's closer anyway."

"All excellent points, except for one thing..."

"Skinner can call us in."

Silence. He wants to argue but he can't.

"He already knows what's happening, I'm sure he'd be happy to help us," she reasons.

"I'm not gonna be able to talk myself out of this, am I?" he asks, a wry smile on his face. He's all out of excuses.

"Mulder, if this works out... Well, there's a chance that by this time next year, we'll be a... family... of some sort, anyway. You might have to get used to it."

The word family sends a thrill right through him. He never thought he'd have one of those again. Never in a million years.

"You're right,” he says regretfully, running a hand over his face. “And it's not that I don't like your family, Scully, it's just I'm not sure they like me back."

"My mom loves you,” she says decisively. “And we'll only be there a few hours anyway. The courthouse closes early for the holiday."

He closes his eyes. He can't believe he's about to agree to this.

"Alright, I'll go. Just so you can get your thrill in doing something wildly irresponsible and rebellious right under your mother's nose."

She protests, "That's not why I—"

"I know you, Scully,” he teases. “You're not as strait-laced as you like to pretend."

After they hang up, Mulder stares up at the ceiling, lost in thought. His stomach flutters with nerves, unrelated to his worries about crashing a family gathering in the morning.

‘I am getting married tomorrow,’ he thinks. To Dana Scully.

It's a Christmas miracle.

~~~

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#msr #txf #x files #xf fanfic #mulder and scully #my fanfiction #fox mulder #dana scully #of our own making #ooom #msr adoption fic #adoption

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thesublemon · 3 days

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best picture

For the first time in a long time, I watched all of the movies nominated for Best Picture at the Oscars this year. Partly on a whim, partly for a piece I’ve been working on for a while about what is going wrong in contemporary artmarking. I cannot say that the experience made me feel any better or worse about contemporary movies than I already felt, which was pretty bad. But sometimes to write about a hot stove, you gotta put your hand on one. So. The nominees for coldest stove are:

Poor Things. Did not like enough to finish. I always want to like something that is making an effort at originality, strangeness, or style. Unfortunately, the execution of those things in this movie felt somehow dull and thin. Hard to explain how. Maybe the movie’s motif of things mashed together (baby-woman, duck-dog, etc) is representative. People have been mashing things together since griffins, medleys, Avatar the Last Airbender’s animals, Nickelodeon’s Catdog, etc. Thing + thing is elementary-level weird. And while there’s nothing wrong with a simple, or well-worn premise, there is a greater burden on an artist to do something interesting with it, if they go that route. And Poor Things does not. Its themes are obvious and belabored (the difficulty of self-actualization in a world that violently infantilizes you) and do not elevate the premise. There’s a fine line between the archetypal and the hackish, and this movie falls on the wrong side of it. It made me miss Crimes of the Future (2022), a recent Cronenberg that was authentically original and strange, with the execution to match.

Anatomy of a Fall. Solid, but not stunning. The baseline level of what a ‘good’ movie should be. It was written coherently and economically, despite its length. It told a story that drew you along. I wanted to know what happened, which is the least you can ask from storytelling. It had some compelling scenes that required a command of character and drama to write—particularly the big argument scene. The cinematography was not interesting, but it was not annoying either. It did its job. This was not, however, a transcendent movie.

Oppenheimer. Did not like enough to finish. But later forced myself to, just so no one could accuse me of not knowing what I was talking about when I said I disliked it. I felt like I was being pranked. The Marvel idea of what a prestige biopic should be. Like Poor Things, it telegraphed its artsiness and themes and has raked in accolades for its trouble. But obviousness is not the same as goodness and this movie is not good. The imagery is painfully literal. A character mentions something? Cut to a shot of it! No irony or nuance added by such images—just the artistry of a book report. The dialogue pathologically tells instead of shows. It constantly, cutely references things you might have heard of, the kind of desperate audience fellation you see in soulless franchise movies. Which is a particularly jarring choice given the movie’s subject matter. ‘Why didn’t you get Einstein for the Manhattan project’ Strauss asks, as if he’s saying ‘Why didn’t you get Superman for the Avengers?’ If any of this referentiality was an attempt to say something about mythologization, it failed—badly. The movie is stuffed with famous and talented actors, but it might as well not have been, given how fake every word out of their mouths sounded. Every scene felt like it had been written to sound good in a trailer, rather than to tell a damn story. All climax and no cattle.

Barbie. Did not like enough to finish. It had slightly more solidity in its execution than I was afraid it would have, so I will give it that. If people want this to be their entertainment I will let them have it. But if they want this to be their high cinema I will have to kill myself. Barbie being on this list reminds me of the midcentury decades of annual movie musical nominations for Best Picture. Sometimes deservingly. Other times, less so. The Music Man is great, but it’s not better than 8 1/2 or The Great Escape, neither of which were nominated in 1963. Musicals tend to appeal to more popular emotions, which ticket-buyers and award-givers tend to like, and critics tend to dislike. I remember how much Pauline Kael and Joan Didion hated The Sound of Music (which won in 1966), and have to ask myself if in twenty years I’ll think of my reaction to Barbie the same way that I think of those reviews: justified, but perhaps beside the point of other merits. Thing is. Say what you want about musicals, but that genre was alive back then. It was vital. Bursting with creativity. For all Kael’s bile, even she acknowledged that The Sound of Music was “well done for what it is.” [1] Contemporary cinema lacks such vitality, and Barbie is laden with symptoms of the malaise. It repeatedly falls back on references to past aesthetic successes (2001: A Space Odyssey, Singin’ in the Rain, etc) in order to have aesthetic heft. It has a car commercial in the middle. It’s about a toy from 60 years ago and politics from 10 years ago. It tries to wring some energy and meaning from all of that but not enough to cover the stench of death. I’d prefer an old musical any day.

American Fiction. Was okay. It tried to be clever about politics, but ended up being clomping about politics. At the end of the day, it just wasn’t any more interesting than any other ‘intellectual has a mid-life crisis’ story, even with the ‘twist’ of it being from a black American perspective. Even with it being somewhat self-aware of this. But it could have been a worse mid-life crisis story. The cinematography was terrible. It was shot like a sitcom. Much of the dialogue was sitcom-y too. I liked the soundtrack, what I could hear of it. The attempts at style and meta (the characters coming to life, the multiple endings) felt underdeveloped. Mostly because they were only used a couple times. In all, it felt like a first draft of a potentially more interesting movie.

The Zone of Interest.Wanted to like it more than I did. Unfortunately, you get the point within about five minutes. If you’ve seen the promotional image of the people in the garden, backgrounded by the walls of Auschwitz, then you’ve already seen the movie. Which means that all the rest of the movie ends up feeling like pretentious excess instead of moving elaboration. It seemed very aware of itself as an Important Movie and rested on those laurels, cinematically speaking, in a frustrating way. It reminded me of video art. I felt like I had stepped through a black velvet drape into the side room of a gallery, wondering at what point the video started over. And video art has its place, but it is a different medium. Moreover video art at its best, like a movie at its best, takes only the time it needs to say what it needs to say.

Past Lives. I’m a human being, and I respond to romance. I appreciate the pathos of sweet yearning and missed chances. And I understand how the romance in this movie is a synecdoche for ambivalent feelings about many kinds of life choices, particularly the choice to be an immigrant and choose one culture over another. The immigrant experience framing literalizes the way any choice can make one foreign to a past version of oneself, or the people one used to know, even if in another sense one is still the same person. So, I appreciate the emotional core of what (I believe) this movie was going for, and do think it succeeded in some respects. And yet…I was very irritated by most of its artistic choices. I found the three principal characters bland and therefore difficult to care about, sketched with only basic traits besides things like Striving and Being In Love. Why care who they’d be in another life if they have no personalities in this one? It’s fine to make characters symbols instead of humans if the symbolic tapestry of a movie is interesting and rich, but the symbolic tapestry of this movie was quite simple and straightforward. Not that that last sentence even matters much, since the movie clearly wanted you to feel for the characters as human beings, not just symbols. Visually, the cinematography was dull and diffuse, with composition that was either boring or as subtle as a hammer to the head.

Maestro. Did not like enough to finish. Something strange and wrong about this movie. It attempts to perform aesthetic mimicry with impressive precision—age makeup, accents, period cinematography—but this does not make the movie a better movie. At most it creates spectacle, at worst it creates uncanny valleys. It puts one on the lookout for irregularities, instead of allowing one to disappear into whatever the movie is doing. Something amateurishly pretentious in the execution. And not in the fun, respectable way, like a good student film. (My go-to example for a movie that has an art-school vibe in a pleasant way is The Reflecting Skin). There’s something desperate about it instead. It has the same disease as Oppenheimer, of attempting to do a biopic in a ‘stylish’ way without working on the basics first. Fat Man and Little Boy is a less overtly stylish rendition of the same subject as Oppenheimer, but far more cinematically successful to me, because it understands those basics. I would prefer to see the Fat Man and Little Boy of Leonard Bernstein’s life unless a filmmaker proves that they can do something with style beyond mimicry and flash.

The Holdovers. Did not like enough to finish. It tries to be vintage, but outside of a few moments, it does not succeed either at capturing what was good about the aesthetic it references, or at using the aesthetic in some other interesting way. The cinematography apes the tropes of movies and TV from the story’s time period, but doesn't have interesting composition in its own right. It lacks the solidity that comes from original seeing. (Contrast with something like Planet Terror, in which joyous pastiche complements the original elements.) The acting is badly directed. Too much actorliness is permitted. Much fakeness in general between the acting, writing, and visual language. If a movie with this same premise was made in the UK in the 60’s or 70's it would probably be good. As-is the movie just serves to make me sad that the ability to make such movies is apparently lost and can only be hollowly gestured at. That said, the woman who won best supporting actress did a good job. She was the only one who seemed to be actually acting.

Killers of the Flower Moon. The only possible winner. It is not my favorite of Scorsese’s movies, but compared to the rest of the lineup it wins simply by virtue of being a movie at all. How to define ‘being a movie’? Lots of things I could say that Killers of the Flower Moon has and does would also be superficially true of other movies in this cohort. Things like: it tells a story, with developed characters who drive that story. Or: it uses its medium (visuals, sound) to support its story and its themes. The difference comes down to richness, specificity, control, and a je ne sais quois that is beyond me to describe at the moment. Compare the way Killers of the Flower Moon uses a bygone cinematic style (the silent movie) to the way that Maestro and The Holdovers do. Killers of the Flower Moon uses a newsreel in its opening briefly and specifically. The sequence sets the scene historically, and gives you the necessary background with the added panache of confident cuts and music. It’s useful to the story and it’s satisfying to watch. Basics. But the movie doesn’t limit itself to that, because it’s a good movie. The sequence also sets up ideas that will be continuously developed over the course of the movie.* And here’s the kicker—the movie doesn’t linger on this sequence. You get the idea, and it moves on to even more ideas. Also compare this kind of ideating to American Fiction’s. When I said that American Fiction’s moments of style felt underdeveloped, I was thinking of movies like Killers of the Flower Moon, which weave and evolve their stylistic ideas throughout the entire runtime.

*(Visually, it places the Osage within a historical medium that the audience probably does not associate with Native Americans, or the Osage in particular. Which has a couple of different effects. First, it acts as a continuation of the gushing oil from the previous scene. It’s an interruption. A false promise. Seeming belonging and power, but framed all the while by a foreign culture. Meanwhile potentially from the perspective of that culture, it’s an intrusion on ‘their’ medium. And of course, this promise quickly decays into tragedy and death. The energy of the sequence isn’t just for its own sake—it sets up a contrast. But on a second, meta level it establishes the movie’s complicated relationship to media and storytelling. Newsreels, photos, myths, histories, police interviews, and a radio play all occur over the course of the movie. And there’s the movie Killers of the Flower Moon itself. Other people’s frames are contrasted with Mollie’s narration. There’s a repeated tension between communication as a method of knowing others and a method of controlling them—or the narrative of them—which plays out in both history and personal relationships.)

Or here’s another example: When Mollie and Ernest meet and he drives her home for the first time, we see their conversation via the car’s rearview mirrors. This is a bit of cinematic language that has its origins in mystery and paranoia. You see it in things like Hitchcock or The X-Files or film noir. By framing the scene with this convention, the movie turns what is superficially a romantic meet-cute (to quote a friend) into something bubbling with uneasiness and dread. This is not nostalgia—this is just using visuals to create effects. It doesn’t matter if you’ve seen anything that uses the convention before, although knowing the pedigree might add to your enjoyment. The watchfulness suggested by the mirrors and Ernest’s cut-off face will still add an ominous effect. It works for the same reason it works in those other things. Like the newsreel, it is a specific and concise stylistic choice, and it results in a scene that is doing more than just one thing.

In general, the common thread I noticed as I watched these nominees, was the tendency to have the ‘idea’ of theme or style, and then stop there. It’s not that the movies had nothing in them. There were ideas, there was use of the medium, there was meaning to extract. There were lots of individually good moments. But they tended to feel singular, or repetitive, or tacked on. Meanwhile contemporary viewers are apparently so impressed by the mere existence of theme or style, that being able to identify it in a movie is enough to convince many that the movie is also good at those things. The problem with this tendency—in both artists and audiences—is that theme and style are not actually some extra, remarkable, inherently rarifying property of art. Theme emerges naturally from a story with any kind of coherence or perspective. And style emerges naturally from any kind of artistic attitude. They are as native as script, or narrative, or character. A movie’s theme and style might not be interesting, just like its story or dialogue might not be interesting, but if the movie is at all decent, they should exist. What makes a movie good or bad, then, is how it executes its component parts—including theme and style—in service of the whole. When theme is well-executed it is well-developed. Contemporary movies, unfortunately, seem to have confused ‘well-developed’ with ‘screamingly obvious.’ A theme does not become well-developed by repetition. It becomes well-developed by iterationand integration. Theme is like a melody. Simply repeating a single melody over and over does not result in the song becoming more interesting or entertaining. It becomes tedious. However, if you modify the melody each time you play it, or diverge from the melody and then return to it, that can get exciting. It results in different angles on the same idea, such that the idea becomes more complex over time, instead of simply louder.

Oppenheimer wasprobably the worst offender in this regard. Just repeat your water drops, crescendoing noise, or a line about ‘destroying the world’, and that’s the same as nuance, right? Split scenes into color and black and white and that’s the same as structure, right? That’s the same as actually conveying a difference between objectivity and interiority (or another dichotomy) via the drama or visual composition contained in the scenes, right? When I watched many of these movies, I kept thinking of a behind-the-scenes story from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The story goes that Joss Whedon was directing Sarah Michelle Gellar in some scene, and when the take was over he told her how great she was, and that he could see right where the music would come in. And Gellar replied that if he was thinking about the music, he clearly wasn’t getting enough from her acting alone. This conversation then supposedly informed Whedon’s approach to “The Body,” a depiction of the immediate aftermath of death that is considered one of the best episodes of television ever made, and which has no non-diegetic music whatsoever. Not to imply that music is necessarily a crutch, or to pretend that “The Body” is lacking in other forms of stylization (it is a very style-ish episode). But more to illustrate the way that it is easy to forget to make the most of all aspects of a medium, particularly the most fundamental ones, once one has gotten used to what a final product is supposed to feel like.

And that’s why most of these movies don’t feel like movies. They create the gestalt of a movie or a ‘cinematic’ moment—often literally through direct vintage imitation—without a sense of the first principles. Or demonstrating a sense of them, anyway. Who needs AI when the supposedly highest level of human filmmakers are already cannibalistically cargo-culting the medium just fine.

[1] “The Sound of Money (The Sound of Music and The Singing Nun).” The Pauline Kael Reader. (This book contains the full text of the original review, rather than the abbreviated review that I linked earlier.)

#posts: art #movies #am rusty at blogging and don't have all the virtuous nuance i would like in this but we will go with it

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foxgloveprincess · 2 days

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Pairing: Cole Turner x Female Reader, Curtis Everett x Female Reader [Second Person Narrator]

Summary: You always try to be your best at your job.

Word Count: 919

Attic Wives Anonymous Masterlist

Warnings: Dark, Dubious Consent (Sex Toys, mild Overstimulation), Manhandling, Clueless Reader, Cages, Pet Names (pup, lamb, etc.). Minors do not interact (18+).

A/N: Time to meet the contractor/handyman and his business partner, the toy maker. It’s a side story for A.W.A. that I just wanted to peek into. Don’t know if there’ll be any more parts to this. But Enjoy!

I love feedback, so go ahead and reblog if you want. However, I give no permission to copy, translate, rewrite or post my work on any third party website or app. Seeing my work posted anywhere beside my blog, my library blog, or my AO3 account (FoxglovePrincess) means it’s been stolen/plagiarized.

I don’t do tag lists, so follow @foxglovefics to sign up for notifications on my fics.

This is unBeta’d, so all mistakes are my own.

Please DO NOT click ‘Keep Reading’ if you are not 18+ years of age or if you are uncomfortable with the pairing, themes, dynamics, or warnings. You are responsible for your own media consumption. Thank you!

Things you now knew were stupid: answering a sketchy ad on the side of the road for a job in product testing. Apparently not your brightest idea. As Jeanne would say, you’re a dumb bitch. At least you were cute.

It hadn’t seemed that bad. Cole and Curtis were pleasant, though they made you well aware of your deficient resume. You didn’t have marketable skills. It was something people said a lot.

But that didn’t stop them from hiring you. They wanted you to start right away. And the benefits? They said they’d be comprehensive.

What they didn’t mention was what exactly that meant. You were just happy they’d chosen you. With job after job firing you for ‘incompetence’, they’d seen your potential. Had said so, in exactly those words. You’d been on cloud nine, smiling wide.

Before they opened the door to your office and had you test the first product.

“Just turn your head toward the camera,” Cole coaxes, his sweet words dripping over you like honey.

Your feverish body slumps over. The machine between your legs continuing its torturous thrusts and vibrations.

A warm hand falls to your lower back, the other tilting your head up to meet stormy blue eyes.

“She’s had enough,” Curtis says. With a flick of a switch, the machine beneath you turns off.

“Come on, man,” Cole whines, “just a little longer. She’s so fucking adorable when she breaks like this.”

“We don’t want to break her.”

Bundled into strong arms, you’re pulled off the toy and laid out on a nearby cushion. Your limbs melt into the plush fabric, twitching from overstimulation. Not an ounce of strength to move of your own volition. That’s all been fucked out of you.

“It’s half the fun,” Cole mutters under his breath, starting a routine of cleaning off the toy. Though he complains, he won’t go against his partner outright. They work too well together for that.

A quiet moment passes, Cole cleaning up and Curtis rummaging through some drawers. He produces a blanket a few moments later and carefully wraps you in it. You hum and lean close to his gentle touch.

“By the way, Ari’s got me making a tail for his girl,” Cole says, joining Curtis in putting you away. He tilts your chin up with a finger. “How do you feel about that?”

You blink slowly and let incomprehensible mumbles fall past your lips. Mostly in the affirmative, not quite understanding how they’ll make you a tail. Isn’t that something animals are born with? Or sometimes like your cousin Courtney? Your brow furrows as you try to think.

You shiver and grip at the quilt over your shoulders, tucking it closer to your face. For one night you wish they’d let you sleep here. Not that you’d complain about your normal accommodations. They could always fire you, and then where would you be?

“Don’t go falling asleep on us now or you’ll forget your form,” Cole reminds. He tucks a pen and paper into your unsteady grip and presses a kiss to your forehead.

You blink to clear your eyes and look at the short form. Five questions and a comment box.

“Do you need help?” Curtis asks, a hand on the cushion by your head, close enough to touch.

Despite the urge to stretch into his touch and accept his generosity, you shake your head. It’s your job, you’ll do it yourself. Dragging your body from the cushion, you sit up and place the paper on your leg. Scrawl the product description on the top line. All five questions stare up at you, a scale of 1 to 5 beneath.

Is the product enticing to potential customers?

Is the product innovative?

Does the product seem high quality?

Is the product different from other products?

Does the product fulfill our customer’s needs and wants?

Though sluggish, your brain processes each question and makes a thoughtful rating for Cole’s new machine. The comment box proves more difficult. Words harder to scrawl while your hand lacks its usual strength and dexterity. But you jot down a few notes—about the vibration and the fit, you think?

A yawn cracks your jaw and you stand on wobbly legs. Holding onto different bits of furniture about the room, you hobble to place the paper in its usual basket. They’ll look at it at the end of the month and determine what to do with it.

Legs like jelly, you steady yourself a moment too long. Your bosses preparing your next task. You glance over and sigh. Still trying to perfect that thing. They’ve been working on it since you started working for them.

“Come on, pup,” Curtis beckons, voice gruff, holding the door open. “Time for some shuteye.”

You nod and bend your knees, ducking into the small metal cage. They finally got the cushion on the bottom thick enough that you don’t feel the bars digging into your side as you lay down. And they added some personal touches—a few pillows, your favorite blankets, a stuffed animal—to ensure the space still allows comfort to fit a full-grown human.

Another yawn breaks free of your lips. Your head falls to the pillow and you let your eyes flutter shut.

Fingers caress your cheek through the bars. You peek open your eyes to see Cole, a soft look of satisfaction on his face.

“Time for a little nap, little lamb,” he whispers, “then there’s a few more things we need to test.”

#curtis everett x reader #cole turner x reader #dark #dark fic #dub con #tw dub con #attic wives anonymous #18+#minors dni

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teecupangel · 3 days

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Tee I can't remember if I've sent this idea before, but with [insert Desmond as an animal au] of your choice (or multiple of them, or all of them)--consider Desmond stuck as an animal and getting used to that being his new life. Until. He meets one of his ancestors he spent time as (havihg sought them out of course. He could never resist). And then, maybe it's by design, or maybe it's some kind of weird crossed wires from the Bleeding Effect, the echo of a flesh and blood body given a reminder in the code of the universe what shape it's supposed to be--

Whatever it is, it turns out that as long as Desmond is in skin-to-skin contact with his ancestor, he reverts to human form.

which is to say: big convoluted excuse for lots of hugs and hand-holding.

It would be funny if Desmond was some kind of big animal so when his ancestor lets go of him, enemies would be surprised by the sudden appearance of such a beast XD

Since you gave me free rein on this, I’m going for 12th century Levant XD

Malik did not believe he was close minded.

He accepted Altaïr was in love with a mysterious man who can turn into a beast even before Altaïr had admitted it.

Altaïr didn’t try hard to deny it anyway.

Saying “this is necessary” while they were holding hands or Altaïr’s hand was on his neck or they were in each other’s embrace (and many more positions that Malik didn’t have any time to list down at the moment) was such a weak excuse that Malik didn’t really think he should even be using the term excuse in the first place.

When he sent a letter saying he was going on a ‘trip’ with Desmond after they finished the mission in Cyprus, no one in the Brotherhood was surprised.

They immediately looked for Malik to lead them as if Altaïr had planned it.

No.

This felt more like Desmond’s work. That man seemed to believe Malik could handle more things than Malik was comfortable with handling.

Yet, he persevered for no one was willing to take the mantle from him.

After the first year of his tenure as the temporary mentor, Rauf was already suggesting that he, Altaïr and Desmond should just be the mentors together.

The way he said it though made it clear to Malik that Rauf believed Malik was entangled in Altaïr and Desmond’s relationship.

Or was harboring unsaid feelings for either or both of them.

Malik wanted to vomit there and then.

He would rather lose both of his arms than be part of whatever relationship those two had.

They were the cause of Malik’s headache.

Nothing more. Nothing less.

Their trip lasted for four long years.

Malik’s list of complaints had turned into a journal and he was planning to read everything out loud.

But his tenure as the long suffering temporary mentor has finally come to an end for those two idiots had returned.

When he reached the courtyard to greet them, Kadar grabbed his arm and stopped him.

“Brother.” Kadar’s eyes were wide and his hands were trembling.

“What is it?” Malik asked, his mind going through the many worrying fates those two idiots could have had while they had been away.

“I’m so sorry, brother.” Kadar looked like a man who had his heart broken.

… on behalf of Malik.

Oh no.

Please.

No.

“Malik!” Desmond shouted and Kadar let go of him, stepping back into the crowd like the coward that he was.

Malik turned to where he heard Desmond’s face and saw Desmond’s grinning face.

With both of his hands holding two different persons.

Altaïr was, of course, one of them.

That was a common sight by now.

The other was a woman though.

“This is Maria Thorpe.” Desmond introduced, “The mother of our first son! He’ll be born three months from now!”

Oh, it was worse.

Many Assassins behind the three currently in front of Malik were looking at him with pitying eyes.

It seemed their imagination had run wild.

And now they had cast Malik into the role of an unfortunate man who just heard the two men (or one of these idiots) he was in love with (He. Was. Not.) had married a woman while he had been waiting for them to return.

Forget reading out loud his complaints.

He was going to beat the both of them with that damn journal.

#whether this is #altdes #or #altdesmar #is up to you #here i am once more #bullying malik (affectionately)

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fernandopiastri28 · 13 hours

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strawberry wine ~ mw2 x fa14

“Strawberry wine, and all the time we used to have. Those things I miss, but know are never coming back.”

prompts: - refusing reconciliation because they're still deeply hurt - being the other's 'right person, wrong time' - remember when they were able to keep the promises they made? *I reworded Mark's exact quote from “By silverstone i'd concluded, another year with red bull and that'll be it. Fernando did all he could to change my mind but it was too late” to “By silverstone i'd concluded, it would be my last year with red bull and that'll be it. Fernando did all he could to change my mind but it was too late”, as I've made it all that this happens over the course of 2013*

2013- China, April

“I just don’t know Fernando, I’m not quite sure that Ferrari is right for me,” It seems not matter how much convincing and pleading he attempts, Mark isn’t seeming any more keen on switching to the scuderia then he had been at the beginning of the phone call when he’d rung his longtime friend, voicing concerns about the possibility of him changing teams.

“Give it a try Mark,” Mah-k , in all their years of friendship, one thing he picked up from him was the exact way the Australian pronounced his own name, the r translating to a h. Feh-nando , not fe-r-nando.

The older man lets out a strangled sigh, slightly exasperated and seemingly at a loss for words. “I- I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” He admits, a quiet click of his tongue signalling the end of his sentence.

“Why not?” He can’t understand the resistance to at least try . Driving for Ferrari at a point during your career essentially cements your legacy in formula one. All the greats have done it- Schumacher, Villeneuve, Surtees, Ascari, Lauda- now himself.

Mark should be added to that list. Webber should sit right after Alonso on the list.

“Because who’s to say I’ll do anything remotely remarkable at a new team? I could completely bomb out the second I step in the car. The devil I know is better than the devil I don’t,” Alonso didn’t realise when his friend had become this complete pessimist- the kind of guy who didn’t even consider trying.

“That’s not a world champion’s mindset,” They both know he’s true. As a two time world champion himself, Fernando does have some kind of power over the other to say so- he knows first hand what it takes to be the best. “Red Bull isn’t doing you any favours, so really- how much worse could Ferrari possibly be?”

The Australian hasn’t had the best run being at Red Bull. To say he’d been bad would be an outrageous claim, and objectively untrue, but the Spaniard just knows he’s destined for better. He’s deserving of a world championship, and as long as he’s a second driver to vettel, he simply doesn’t have the car or the possibility to achieve one.

“Seb is winning the championship currently, in a red bull- that’s gotta count for something,” Fernando rolls his eyes at the mention of the young german. If he’s the reason that Mark is so resistant to leave, Fernando would happily beat some wits into him, get him onto his side in convincing the Australian to leave the team that disregards him and treats him so poorly.

“And I’m second, what is your point?” Ah perfect, he’s got him there. When he doesn’t answer, he adds on, “Just, you’ll consider?” The question is met by a short exhale from Mark, shaking over the phone call. Picking at a piece of flint that’s attached itself to his fire engine red team polo, he patiently waits for Webber to cave and agree to it.

“Yes Nando,” His voice has a sense of faith and possible hope, “I’ll consider it for you,” It’s not a ‘ I’ll sign the contract now,’

2013- Britain, June

WEBBER TAKES RAIKKONEN! From nowhere the Australian rips past the Finn, and is closing fast on Rosberg! Where did this pace come from?

Fernando watches as Mark zips ahead in front, his pace looking outstanding from the glances he catches, trying to focus on his own face- aiming to secure another win for the season.

Rosberg has turned the speed on and posts a quicker lap than Webber in that one, and is 1.35 seconds clear of the Red Bull. Not far behind Alonso is all over Raikkonen's tail... AND HE MAKES A MOVE!

Fernando catches Raikkonen at a vulnerable moment for the Finn, feeling no regret or empathy as he whips past him into third, trailing just behind Webber.

1.2 seconds now between Rosberg and Webber - the German is doing enough, and will surely win the British Grand Prix now!

The gap between him and the Australian is only getting tighter, the possibility of standing on the second step at the end of this becoming a more realistic and possible reality. For now though, he won’t allow himself to get distracted by dreaming of what he could do, he needs to focus on pushing.

Lewis Hamilton right in on Alonso as well - half a chance of a podium for Lewis despite that blowout which put him back in last place!

Shit. Being too focused on the gap between him and Webber meant he’d lost all consideration about how closely the Mercedes of Lewis had been trailing on his heels, eager to snatch up a podium finish.

NICO ROSBERG WINS THE BRITISH GRAND PRIX! He crosses the line 0.7 seconds clear of Mark Webber, who has almost pulled off an amazing victory despite falling back to 15th after a catastrophic start to his race!

First place is no longer an achievable spot, but just as Senna’s mantra went, ‘If you no longer go for a gap that exists, you are no longer a racing driver’, he won’t allow himself to slow down just because he won’t be top step when it’s time to receive a trophy. Second or third is always better than fourth.

Webber second, Alonso third with Hamilton fourth despite the tyre blow-out which robbed him of first place early on.

It’s done now at least. He may not be first, or even second, but he’s not in Hamilton’s spot either- a blown out wheel and the lost opportunity of a race win. He’s doing better than most, and he’s willing to take that.

He stands on the third step of the podium, Mark proudly standing tall to his left, waving his sweat soaked hat high above his head. He looks proud, a grin stretched across his mouth in a tired relief. He may have not gotten first place, but he sure as hell has enough pride in his expression to seem as if he did.

Rosberg is equally as happy, an unbeatable look of elation staining his face. He pumps his hands up, showing off his golden trophy. One by one, they receive their bottles of champagne, ready to really start the celebration.

The Spaniard and Australian coat each other in sticky bubbles, while the Finn focuses his onto the crowd in front of them, raining down on the Mercedes team in particular. Pressing the spout to his lips, Fernando takes a long mouthful- the sharp champagne filling his mouth and sliding down his throat.

He makes eye contact with Mark as he does so, ‘We’ll be doing this every weekend if you make the move,’ . He reckons Mark picks up on that, but there’s an uneasy look in his eyes, withholding something from him.

When the fizz dissolves and all three men are left in sopping race suits, reeking of alcohol- it’s time for interviews. A man, wielding a microphone goes straight to Nico, interviewing him about ‘how his race had gone’, and if he thought he’d ‘win the race from the get go ,’.

While the attention isn’t on them, rather solely focused on the blond man, Mark takes his opportunity to slip into place beside the Ferrari driver, dropping his voice a few octaves and tilting his head, putting them at near the same height. “I’m not going to Ferrari, Fernando,”

No.

He’s not doing this right now.

If this is true, he doesn’t get to say this in front of a crowd of thousands of fans.

That’s not fucking fair.

“Mark,” He hisses, drawing his eyes away from the crowd to look up for the slight difference they have between their height right now. His jaw goes lax, his lips parting in shock.

“Nando,” He places his hand on the small of his back, his fingers nudging into where the suit awkwardly clings to his narrow waist. “I’m sorry,”

“Not now,” He looks away, his attention drawing to where Nico’s interview is drawing to a close, Mark will be the next to be talked to. “ Dios - why?” His throat is gluey, his accent strengthening despite how he often tried to dull it down to be easier understood.

“I couldn’t,” Mark ducks his head, shame flooding his face. Fernando doesn’t care, Webber doesn’t get to feel poorly about his decision. He’s the one who disobeyed his promise and broke trust. He’s to take responsibility for that.

2013- Germany, July

Tensions are still high between the two by the time the next grand prix approaches. Alonso avoids each attempt that Webber makes to reconcile their relationship- try to make some half arsed apology in which he’ll not even understand why Fernando is hurting like he is. He doesn’t understand how much the promise of teammates means to the Spaniard- he likely never would.

2013- Italy, September

“By silverstone i'd concluded, it would be my last year with red bull and that'll be it. Fernando did all he could to change my mind but it was too late” The Spaniard feels like driving a screwdriver into his head upon hearing that over the radio, maybe step onto incoming traffic. There’s a strong urge to gouge his eyes out and then cut his ears off bubbling deep throughout his whole body. The want to go out in the most painful, gory ways.

Is it seemingly an intensely dramatised reaction to a seemingly harmless statement the senior pilot made? Not in the slightest. It’s not fucking fair, Mark doesn’t get to do this to him. The Australian had promised for years that they’d be teammates eventually- even if it took their whole careers to do so.

Bringing him into the interview was beyond unfair. Clearly it had all just a joke to him, some easy fucking lie he could reassure Fernando with to get him to stop bothering him.

It’s the first that the Ferrari driver is hearing of the official news, the final verdict that had been reached. Sure, Mark had told him back on the podium in Silverstone- but hearing it over national news, it just feels far more true and official.

Up until this point, he’s allowed himself to view the possibility of the situation through rose-tinted glasses, a warm and hopeful feeling deep in his chest- the belief that he would one day be teammates with the man he considered his closest friend. Maybe Mark would change his mind, maybe he would decide at the last moment that Red Bull wasn’t for him.

Now that’s all being betrayed so he can stay driving an energy drink on wheels alongside some bratty german kid who barely looks old enough to be driving on the freeway.

Fuck you Sebastian Vettel.

Fuck you Red Bull.

Fuck you Mark Alan Webber.

2013- Singapore, September

He ignores each call the Australian tempts him with, patiently outwaiting the five rings until he can return to the aching silence of his hotel room. It’s not fun, nor is it any what pleasant. Deep down, he wants to pick up, hear even just the careful and calculated breaths of the older man- give him a chance to explain.

But what if he doesn't like what he heard? What if Mark gave him all the reasons why they wouldn’t work as teammates and it was all the things that Fernando had spent so many years ignoring because he so desperately wanted it to be perfect- he was willing to make any sacrifices just to be alongside Mark in matching bright red race suits.

So for now, he’ll just rot under the thin bleach-white sheets of his hotel bed, wishing for a different outcome to the ending he always secretly expected.

He doesn’t have to see Mark on the podium this time. He’s on the second step this time, Raikonnen in third and the Australian’s younger teammate Sebastian took an easy lead the whole time- winning by almost a landslide. Fernando refuses eye contact with the German, the man who gets to take the place of being the teammate of Mark for another year, until he will retire.

It settles in his mind for the first time that the next time he’s in this exact spot, racing in Singapore, he will no longer be racing under the humid heat and bright city lights alongside his Australian friend. This was the final time the pair would ever race on the Marina Bay Track together.

That’s a fate he’d rather not talk about.

2013- Brazil, November

In the five races after Singapore and before Brazil, Mark secures an impressive three final podiums for his last year in the sport. Alonso doesn’t. They don’t stand on the podium together past the british grand prix, and despite how betrayed he feels- it doesn’t mean that he wants Silverstone to be the last time they held those trophies above their heads together.

His wish is finally granted in the concluding race of the season, Mark’s career too. With Sebastian winning the race, his teammate stands on the step below him, and Fernando on the final step. It’s just like Silverstone all over again.

It’s the last dance for the two of them, a final chance for them to celebrate together- even when separated by Sebastian, and separated by rival teams.

It’s beyond impressive in his last races in formula 1 that he’d secured four podiums, but that was just Mark’s fashion. To go out with a bang.

2014- Abu Dhabi, November

After a whole year of stewing in slight hatred and missing of the aussie at ferrari- having Kimi Räikkönen as a teammate, who is significantly quieter and more serious then he was expecting out of his 2014 teammate- Fernando finally makes the difficult decision to change teams to McLaren.

He’ll race alongside Jenson Button, who he reckons will be a breath of fresh air- closer to Mark then the teammate he’s had this year. It had been an abysmal year for him too, only 2 podiums- China and Hungary. So he’s looking onto next year in a positive light, a new chapter of improvement for himself.

2015/2016

Jenson is only his teammate for a single year of the 2015 season. For 2016, he has Stoffel Vandoorne alongside him at McLaren and they don’t get on too well. Fernando is clearly the favoured driver- Stoffel often being instructed to let the Spaniard past him. Regardless, they remain racing for the same team for the next three years. They’re a painful few years without a single podium, still chasing that high from Brazil- stood next to Mark.

He’d had two since then, but they’d felt empty and meaningless to him, wishing he’d been dressed in red with Mark instead of Kimi. Being in orange doesn’t feel any better than that- especially without a single trophy to prove that maybe Ferrari also hadn’t been good for him.

2018, August

Fernando announces his retirement on twitter on august 14th. He posts a minute long video, thanking the sport in general and all his adoring fans over the years of his career. He does a bit near the end that showcases him in all his different team merchandise- Minardi, Renault, his first year long McLaren stint, again to Renault, Ferrari, and finally McLaren once again.

It’s a moment that he thought he would be able to avoid for a few more years. He had faith he would win a third championship- hopefully at Ferrari too. But he looks around at the grid that surrounds him, all the new and fresh talent, and he feels a lack of belonging.

There’s supposedly going to be an eighteen year old replacing him at McLaren when he leaves, there’s already a twenty one year old in Max Verstappen, and a twenty year old Lance Stroll. He just feels old.

Hamilton’s still there, so is Vettel, and a few other drivers from his prime time- but he can’t escape the feeling that his time has come, it’s time for new ventures.

Maybe he’ll continue to race under different circumstances, maybe he’ll focus more time and energy into managing- maybe he’ll just leave racing to the past, and go on with the rest of his life without it.

2020, February

Mark and him speak for the first time in a while on the phone. Mark sounds well, his voice rougher with age if anything. They’d last spoken when Fernando had announced his retirement, and the Australian had showered him in congratulations and best wishes for his further ventures. They were now on the same boat, even if the events had occurred almost eight years apart.

Mark tells him that he’s just begun managing the FIA Formula 3 champion, a seventeen year old Australian called Oscar. According to the older Australian, Oscar was possibly the biggest Alonso fan growing up- had one of his karts and a race suit. It makes him smile that he’s inspired someone who was born after his career even began.

Beyond that short call, the amount of times they talk on the phone increases as the pandemic regulations tighten, forcing everyone into home isolation. Hearing all about all these fantastic achievements Oscar is making, Fernando feels something he had lost back in 2018- the want and desire to race.

So after many conversations, emails, phone calls, meetings- Fernando Alonso officially becomes an Alpine Driver for 2021.

#f1 #formula1 #formula one #fernando alonso #mark webber #sebastian vettel #oscar piastri #2012 f1 #webbonso #webbonso wednesday

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