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#source: rather be ted
lesbian-deadpool · 1 year
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Pietro, waking up with a start: Crocodiles!!
Pietro: ... oh, I was having a dream.
Pietro: The only thing I remember was a curious lack of crocodiles, and so I began to call out for them.
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dduane · 2 months
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From the Writing Advice dep't: A complicated ask, a serial answer (part 1)
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Every now and then I get an ask in the box that's complex enough that it has to be taken apart and answered in pieces. Also, sometimes I get queries in that are painful enough (in varying ways) that I elect not to attribute them when answering. This one is both.
I read the ask (and reread it, and rereread it, four or five or six times after it came in, and a bunch more times while I was on my back this week being sick), and gradually came to realize that for it to be properly handled I had no choice but to break it into pieces for best management.
There are three main strands to the issues this ask brings up: motivation, growth as a writer, and coping with or succeeding despite the current state of the publishing industry.
So let's dig in. Here's the first part of the ask:
I know there's no One True Path, but I'm struggling with this, and I'm sure others are too, so I'll just ask it. I want to make a career out of writing, but with shrinking attention spans and so much content to mindlessly consume, how do you keep the motivation to write? My friends get mad at me for getting discouraged when not even they read my writing. They get mad and say, "write for yourself, not for the validation!"
Welp. (sigh)
First of all, I think your friends are absolutely right. But we'll come back to that.
You have to understand that as far as the Search for Motivation goes, I'm probably Spiders DD, the outlier who seriously should not have been counted. I have been motivated to write stuff pretty much nonstop since I was eight, and did my first novel in crayon in a school notebook. (It was one of the thick notebooks. The ones with the black and white marbled covers. Most of you who come of US schools know the kind.)
So I'm really the wrong person to be asking about this, especially since it's now nearly the Year of our (Wood!) Dragon 4722, which would make me nearly, uh, six Years of the Dragon old. And being of such age, and a career midlist genre writer, I have the same source of motivation as the vast majority of my similarly-aged colleagues: the need to write or starve. (There's an Irish saying perfectly descriptive of my situation: "Too old to dig ditches and too scared to rob banks." That's my situation exactly. There's nothing left for me to do but to write.) :)
...Anyway, it's kind of amazing how that kind of motivation'll focus your intention, and help you keep it in place, once you're been working with it for a while.
At the beginning of a career, though, things can look a lot different as you start getting a handle on exactly what it is you like to write and why you like writing it. And having another job to keep you afloat while you find your way is seriously a very good idea if you can manage it.
It sounds very much to me as if you're still in the early "finding your way" stages. This is a place that a lot of writers pass through, so don't be concerned. It's rare for sudden perfect motivation-to-write to crystallize out of nothing. And never forget, the word itself is based on old Latin roots for movement, and provokes the question, "Yeah, okay, but which way?" Movement without intended direction tends to turn into a lot of unfocused flailing, which looks good on Kermit, but not so much on the rest of us.
(inserting a cut here, because honestly, this is gonna go on a bit)
So you need to sit down and start asking questions—and answering them—so you can draw some kind of map. "I want to make a career out of writing"? Fine. What kind of writing? Fiction? Nonfiction? If fiction, what kind? What do you like to read? Why? Is that something you'd like to write? Why? Why not? If there's something else you'd rather be writing—what else? And why?
The more you ask the questions and answer them—"Keep asking the next question," Ted Sturgeon never used to stop saying—and the further along your investigations get, the more likely you are (as you get close to the answers that matter) to start getting the itch to write something, something in particular. This process may take a while, and the itch may take a good while to manifest. Don't be alarmed by that. The old saying is that the fire from Heaven won't descend until you've built the altar for it. And it may take a while piling the rocks up into the right shape. Don't hurry. If this is something you intend to spend a lifetime on, make sure the foundations are sound. The time taken will be worth it.
And BTW, do you intend that kind of length of commitment? If you're not sure, that's fine. But there's no one else to ask at this point who can give you meaningful answers. This is the time to get into it. Work out what "having a career in writing" looks like for you. Then start investigating to see whether your conception has any foundation in reality as a kind of lifestyle you actually have decent odds on achieving. (Again, I'm an outlier here. I'd been writing for pleasure for a long time before I had the good fortune to befriend an actual career writer, examine his habits [and those of other writers in the LA area] at close range, and realize that this line-of-work choice was actually something that could be successfully pulled off by mere mortals.) After investigation, this is a call that only you can make.
But anyway. Once you've started experiencing the kind of motivation that comes of increased certainty about what you want to do and why, you'll find you're way less concerned about sourcing or supporting it externally. It tends to fuel itself. (As once it does descend, the fire from Heaven is tenacious stuff: more Greek than otherwise.)
But also: trying to designate outsourced exterior stimulants for motivation is a bad idea. The reason's simple: one day you'll need them and they won't be there. Conditions will have changed, or the outside-of-you sources into the hands of which you've resigned your motivational agency may not be available for one reason or another, temporarily or permanently... and then where are you? The concept's a nonstarter. If your motivation's acting up, you need to be looking inward, not outward, for ways to kickstart it. This is one of the most personal parts of the writing process. You need to own it.
(And yeah, even career writers' motivation slips sometimes: annoying career things happen, cyclic lows cut in at a bad time, you name it. Most of us work out ways to jar the motivation back into correct operation when it acts up. But for such corrections to work you must first know what it's like to generate or mine yours yourself... and you're still working on that. The methods you find to generate motivation toward doing the Work will also assist you in diagnosing it when it goes south, and putting it right again.)
Also: (sighing) Please let your friends off the hook as regards reading your material, and feedback. Your motivation to write should not be dependent on their feedback, and it's not a good idea to try to make friends feel responsible for keeping you on the creative track. Chief among reasons for this: they may not feel themselves up to the task of giving you the writing support you're apparently asking them for—possibly because they simply don't feel competent to. (This is where we could get into how I had to stop @petermorwood from rewriting his third novel for the third time due to conflicting notes from friends... but let's leave that for later.) At best you're possibly making your friends deeply uncomfortable. At worst, the pressure may damage the friendships.
Tl:dr; our friends may love us dearly, but that doesn't make them competent editors. If you're online, so are many writers' groups who'll welcome a new member who needs advice. Wait till you've got more data and clarity on your motivational issues, and then start shopping around for assistance that seems friendly and trustworthy.
And finally (for the moment), about other people's attention spans:
It'd be good if you can start training yourself away from the habit of worrying about those. For one thing, there's absolutely nothing you can do about them. You might as well worry about the 11-year sunspot cycle. The attention-span issue is just one more distraction from things you should usefully be thinking about. But also: A lot of what we hear about that situation strikes me as fearmongering (as, IIRC, it was supposed to cause the downfall of western civilization around the time I started writing for Scooby-Doo).
If you look around, you'll see that loads of people are willing to spend HUGE amounts of their attention on stuff they love. (I mean, have you been on AO3 lately? And we're just talking about free stuff, there. Lots of other people will do the same for traditionally published work, given the chance and the money.) Your job is to get on with writing, start putting what you're doing out there where people will have a chance to fall in love with it, and then deal with the consequences.
More of this next time. (And please bear with me, as I'm still not up to best operating speed after the last week's illness. I'll get to everything else you sent me, I promise.)
HTH!
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willalove75 · 8 months
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Rebecca x Reader - jealous sex
Hehehe yesss! Thank you for the request!💕💕
Warnings: Smut babyyyyy, also a little angst, a dash of fluff, denial, a pinch of praise kink, dom!Rebecca, idk what else
18+ Only Minors DNI
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Rebecca had been working overtime for the last two weeks and has barely been home, no less had time for you. It's not that you were incredibly clingy, but every time she came home you got a quick kiss, the two of you would eat dinner in near silence since she was exhausted and after a shower, Rebecca went to bed.
In all fairness, you expected this season to be more chaotic than the last. With Ted back in the US, Roy took over managing the team, Keeley had an idea for a women's league and there were hundreds of other things going on all at once. Rebecca was exhausted, and you understood that and tried to give her as much grace as possible, but when the second week rolled around, so did her attitude. Yes, she was burnt out and exhausted, her patience at work has worn down to almost nothing, but when she got home, you got the brunt of her frustrations.
Rebecca was apologetic when she caught herself or when you brought it up to her, and maybe it would have sat with you a little better but you've barely spoken, she's been a bitch and the two of you haven't sad sex in over two weeks. You tried to initiate a few times but she was either too tired or gave you an attitude so you stopped trying all together.
Finally, it was Friday, and with no plans or matches on Saturday or Sunday, you were finally hoping to spend some time with your love. Hoping that she can relax enough so she wasn't so overwhelmed. As much as you hated how she acted towards you, you also hated that she was always putting so much pressure on herself.
"So babe, what did you want to do tomorrow since you finally have some free time?" You ask over dinner.
Rebecca gives you a look and your heart sinks.
"What are you talking about? We have the benefit tomorrow night." She says with a hint of frustration in her voice.
"What benefit?"
"West Ham is holding a benefit and all of the local clubs are invited to go. I told you about this last week."
"You definitely did not." There's an edge to your voice you weren't expecting but in all fairness, you're pretty annoyed.
"Yes, I did."
"Rebecca you didn't-"
"It's not my fault you don't pay attention." She snaps.
"Alright, I'm over this." You say as you get up from the table. "I know you're overwhelmed and stressed but it doesn't mean you get to talk to me like shit. You did not tell me about it, you've barely spoken to me in two weeks."
"So you're not coming?" She asks, visibly annoyed, as you put your plate in the dishwasher.
Rolling your eyes you look over at her. "As much as I don't want to go, yes, I will be there."
Neither you or Rebecca speak to each other for the rest of the night or the following day. The tension in the air is so thick you can cut through it with a knife. You're absolutely dreading this event but it'll look bad if you're not there and you'd rather not get bombarded with questions about your absence.
Silently, the two of you get ready for the evening and head out. Rebecca looks stunning, as always. You'd be drooling over her if you weren't so annoyed with her, truthfully. And because you're spiteful, you make sure you look as hot as possible. Wearing the dress that Rebecca has told you more than once she loves on you. That she usually has a hard time keeping her hands off of you when you wear it. You picked out a pair of tall stilettos that perfectly accentuate your legs, your makeup is flawless, making your eyes pop, and your hair is styled in a way that shows off your collarbones.
As soon as the two of you reach the benefit you beeline it to the bar and Rebecca stops to talk to some people. Right off of the bat you take a shot to curb your frustrations from the last two weeks and order your favorite drink. The bartender makes your drink and passes it to you and you tip him a £20.
Spotting Rebecca, she makes eye contact with you and notices the drink in your hand, she scowls for a moment before turning back towards her conversation. If you were any closer, you probably would have exploded on her.
Normally, you wouldn't go out of your way to piss Rebecca off, especially not at an event like this. But right now, you don't care. You're mad and hurt and with the small amount of liquid courage running through your veins, you're feeling daring and decide "fuck it." You want to make her feel the same way she's made you feel for the last two weeks, regardless of how immature that may be.
As you walk around the benefit you talk and mingle with a few people and you make sure you're in Rebecca's eyeline. After talking to a few players you finish your first drink and move on to your second one.
The night goes on, you and Rebecca barely speak to each other and before you know it, the benefit is almost halfway over. You were hoping deep down that being out would have relaxed Rebecca, but it hasn't and you're over it. Deciding to grab another drink, Rebecca watches you as you get up from the table and walk away.
While you're at the bar, a gorgeous woman walks up next to you and orders. The two of you greet each other and you can feel Rebecca's eyes boring into you from afar. Catching a glimpse of her out of the corner of your eye, she's staring directly at you and this woman. Bingo.
"I'm y/n, what's your name?" You ask the woman.
"I'm Samantha, but most people call me Sammy."
"It's wonderful to meet you Sammy. So what brings you here tonight?"
"I'm actually new to the West Ham women's team, this is my first season with them."
"Oh! That's exciting, how are you liking it?"
"It's amazing, I was nervous at first when I heard about the owner but luckily he's no longer in the picture anymore so I'm enjoying it more than I expected to."
You know she's talking about Rupert. After assaulting the coach and being booed off the pitch last season he sold the club. A new, much nicer, owner took over.
"Oh yeah, you definitely dodged a hand grenade there." You say with a laugh.
"What brings you here?"
"Oh, I work for AFC Richmond."
"Ah, so you know Rupert?"
"Luckily I joined after his reign ended, but I have had the displeasure of meeting him on a few occasions."
"I haven't had the pleasure of meeting him yet."
"Consider yourself lucky."
Glancing over, Rebecca is still staring at you. The scowl on her face would be terrifying if you weren't so annoyed at her. Because you're a little shit, you decide to take it up a notch.
"Was he that bad?" She asks.
"Oh he was the worst, I only met him a few times and each time he hit on me and tried to make a move, it was gross."
"Ew!"
"Yeah! He's such a creepy old man! It's amazing he can still get it up honestly."
The two of you burst into laughter and your hand grazes her arm for a moment. In less than thirty seconds you hear heels aggressively clacking on the floor, you see Rebecca out of the corner of your eye and she's pissed.
"I'm so sorry, can you excuse us for a moment?" She politely says to Sammy, who is confused but nods and walks away. Rebecca grabs your arm and drags you to a secluded spot. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Oh, hello, it's nice for you to finally acknowledge my existence."
"Y/n I am not in the mood."
"Neither am I." You say and you begin to walk away. Rebecca grabs your arm again and spins you towards her.
"Really? Of all nights, this is the night you decide to test my patience?"
"I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about."
"Do not play dumb with me. I saw you with that woman, flirting with her. Did you really think I wouldn't notice?" She says, her bright green eyes burning with anger.
"Who said I didn't want you to notice?" You deadpan.
Rebecca grabs your drink out of your hand and puts both yours and hers down on a nearby table and grabs your wrist.
"That's it, we're leaving."
Before you can respond she pulls you out of the reception and through the doors to the entrance of the building. Her car pulls around a minute later and the two of you get in. The anger is radiating off of her, you don't think you've ever seen her so mad before, honestly. It would worry you if you weren't so mad yourself.
When the two of you finally make it home, Rebecca slams the front door shut and crosses her arms, her eyes narrowing at you.
Neither of you say a word since neither of you want to be the one who breaks the tense silence. Rolling your eyes, you turn around and walk into the kitchen.
"Don't you dare walk away from me." She says as she follows you.
"Or what? You'll pretend I don't exist for another two weeks?"
"How dare you, how dare you flirt with that woman, right in front of everyone. Do you know how badly that can reflect on me?"
"Oh, I'm sorry," You say, your voice dripping in sarcasm. "how silly of me to forget that absolutely everything revolves around your image."
"What is the matter with you?!"
"Me?! You're the one who's barely spoken to me in two weeks, you're the one who hasn't touched me, the one who's been snapping at me for no reason when I try to talk to you. I should be the one asking what's the matter with you?!"
"And you think that makes what you did tonight okay?"
"How the fuck else was I supposed to get your attention Rebecca?! I've been trying for two fucking weeks! All you've been doing was snapping at me and ignoring me. So yes, I flirted with another woman, does that make me an asshole? Yeah, probably, but I've tried literally everything else besides screaming at you, because you and I both know nothing was going to come from that." Rebecca stands there for a minute almost shaking with anger.
"So what? You wanted to make me jealous?"
"Yup, and obviously, it worked pretty damn well."
"What? I'm not- no-"
"Rebecca Welton, you are many things and being jealous is certainly one of them. Who knows how far I would have taken it." You push. "I could have complimented her beautiful eyes, or brushed a strand of her hair away from her face. I was thinking of whispering something in her ear, something that would make her laugh. Resting my hand on her back-"
"ENOUGH." Rebecca yells. She storms up to you and grabs the back of your head, hard. Pulling your face just inches away from hers. "You've made your point. Now it's my turn to make mine."
Before you're able to do anything else Rebecca spins you around and bends you over the countertop. A hand comes down hard across your clothed ass and a small yelp emerges from you.
"You want to tease me?" Rebecca says through gritted teeth as she brings her hand down again onto your ass. "You want to make me jealous?" Another smack. "You want to flirt with other women?" This time Rebecca pulls up your dress, revealing your soft skin that's starting to turn red from the smacks. "Just to get my attention?" She smacks your bare ass and you yelp again. "Well my darling, you have it. You have all of my attention now." She smacks your ass once more before palming it and squeezing it, massaging the reddened area.
A low moan escapes from your lips. The cool granite countertop feels soothing against your heated skin as Rebecca continues to hold you against it.
Her fingers dip between your legs and she runs them over your underwear. It's almost embarrassing how wet you are already, you can hear Rebecca smirk when she feels the wetness through your thong.
She drags her fingers languidly up and down, just applying enough pressure to certain spots to make you twitch. It takes everything in you to hold back your moans when she circles your clit, you don't want to give her the satisfaction, at least not this quickly. But she knows that she can turn you into putty in her hands in just a few stokes of her fingers and tonight she's testing your strength.
After a few more firm circles she pulls her hand away and you have to muffle a whine of disappointment. Her hand comes down hard on your ass again and you let out another yelp.
Rebecca grabs the fabric of your thong on each side of your hips and slowly pulls it down. When they reach your ankles she smacks your ass again and uses her foot to kick your legs open wider.
"This was not was I was expecting." You think to yourself. Although you're not upset about it, it's actually really fucking hot seeing Rebecca in this state.
"You want to make me jealous?" She asks, grabbing the hair on the back of your head. "Answer. Me." She growls.
"Yes."
"All because I didn't give you enough attention?"
She tugs at your hair when you take too long to answer.
"Yes."
Rebecca's fingers find your dripping slit and she rubs you up and down, stopping every so often to circle your hardened clit. A moan threatens to escape and you swallow it.
"Let me hear you." She demands.
She circles your clit faster and a moan slips past your lips.
"Good girl." She says, picking up the pace, drawing more moans out of you. "I know you wanted to make me jealous, but for a second did you ever think that little girl could pleasure you the way I do?" Her middle finger prods at your entrance before sliding into you.
"Oh fuck." You moan as your eyes roll to the back of your head.
"That she knows your body as well as I do?" She curls her finger just right and your knees almost give out. "That she could make you cum the way I can?" Her finger curls more while she slides it in and out of you. "Hmm? Is that what you thought?"
"No!" You cry out.
Rebecca slides a second finger into you and the moan that leaves your lips is just sinful.
"No one can make you feel as good as I do baby, isn't that right?"
"Yes-" The word blends into another filthy moan as she curls her fingers in a "come hither" motion inside of you.
With her grip still tightly grasping the back of your hair, Rebecca pulls on it as she fucks you faster. She pushes and pulls her fingers in and out, fast and hard, curling them when she's deep inside of you. Moans spill from your lips like a prayer and your legs begin to shake. She's building your climax fast and hard and if she keeps it up, you won't last much longer.
Your walls start fluttering around her fingers and she knows your close.
"Please!" You beg.
Rebecca brings you closer and closer to the release you've been craving for two weeks. Just as she's about to send you over she pulls her fingers out and you cry out from the loss. She smacks your ass hard again as you feel tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Grabbing your hands, Rebecca folds them behind your back, your face now flush with the cool granite countertop.
"Do not move." She commands.
All you can do is nod your head and you hear the sound of her heels retreating out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Your legs quiver and you clench around nothing, your body still reeling from the denial.
After a few minutes you hear Rebecca walk back into the kitchen, sans heels. She walks up behind you and you can hear her shuffle around and a low moan escapes from her. The sound of a cap opening and closing clicks and Rebecca places a bottle of lube on the countertop in front of you.
Your body shivers with excitement when you feel something cold and hard slide against you. After a few strokes, Rebecca slides the strap on deep inside of you and a guttural moan passes through your lips.
Slowly, Rebecca slides it in and out of you. Both of your moans melt together in harmony as she keeps a steady pace.
Rebecca starts quicken her thrusts and she grabs your hip with one hand, her nails digging into your skin, and grabs your arms still folded behind your back with the other. With each practiced thrust, she pulls you back into her, sending the strap deeper and harder into both of you.
"Oh fuck Rebecca!" You cry out.
"Good girl, I know how much you love it when I fuck you. Better than anyone else, right?"
"Yes, fuck! Yes!"
The dildo is hitting all of the right spots deep inside of you, once again you can feel your orgasm building. With the other end of the strap on nestled deep inside of her, both you and Rebecca moan with each of her thrusts. She picks up her pace and releases your arms, you immediately grab onto the edge of the countertop, her hand grabbing your other hip.
Rebecca pulls you into her harder and harder with every thrust and you can feel your walls clenching down around the toy. Cries ring throughout the house, neither of you can decipher whose cries are whose as you both rush to the edge.
You can feel Rebecca getting closer when her thrusts become less calculated and more desperate. She drives you closer and closer to your release and you cry out her name like a prayer.
"Fuck Rebecca you're gonna make me cum!"
"Yeah?"
"Yes!"
Rebecca's cries get louder and you know she's close too. You push back into each thrust and you feel yourself tipping over the edge.
"Fuck baby I'm gonna cum, fuck me please make me cum!"
"Good girl baby, fuck I'm so close." She pants.
"Cum with me baby, please, oh fuck please!"
Rebecca's thrusts become erratic, hurling the both of you over the edge into a canyon of pleasure and ecstasy. She keeps her pace, fucking you hard, dragging out both of your orgasms for as long as possible before slowly bringing the both of you down.
With one final thrust, Rebecca practically collapses on top of you, both ends of the toy still buried deep inside the both of you. You can feel your dress sticking to your back as you lay across the countertop trying to catch your breath.
After a moment of silence you feel warm kisses across your shoulders, languid hands slide up your waist and grab hold of the zipper on your dress. Every inch of skin revealed as she pulls the zipper down is met with soft, loving kisses. When the back of your dress is completely open, Rebecca slowly slides the strap on out of you and then slowly takes it out of her. Her fingers slide under the straps of your dress and she slowly pulls them down. Pushing yourself up off of the counter, Rebecca pulls your dress all the way down until it pools at your feet.
Her hands find your hips once more and her lips lock onto your neck. She gently nips and sucks on your pulse point before her hands slide up and gently cup your breasts. While Rebecca massages your breasts and riddles your neck with love bites, you lean your head back onto her shoulder and take a deep breath, relaxing into her as you exhale. Rebecca's hands slide down to your hips once more and she turns you to face her.
Looking deeply into her green eyes you see love. You also see something else, guilt? Her eyes become glassy and you gently cup her face.
"Baby, what's wrong?"
"I'm sorry." She says softly.
You wipe away a tear that escaped with your thumb and you caress her cheek.
"I'm so sorry for how I've treated you the last few weeks. Even though I was overwhelmed, even though I was stressed, there is no excuse for how I treated you my love."
"It's okay baby, I forgive you. I'm sorry for being so immature and making you jealous tonight. I should have handled it better."
"No, don't apologize. I deserved it. You're right, I don't know what else you could have done to have gotten my attention. And that is so unfair to you, I promise from now on when I get overwhelmed, I'll listen to you more. Because you deserved so much better than how I've been treating you lately."
You wipe away another tear that fell from her gorgeous eyes and you pull her in for a kiss. Her lips feel like home, they're soft and warm and when you're kissing her, the entire world disappears.
When the kiss finally ends, Rebecca wraps her arms around you and pulls you tightly into her. Only then did you realize that she was also naked. Her skin against yours has never felt so right, like your bodies were made to fit together perfectly. Rebecca pulls away and takes your hand, leading you up the stairs.
In the bedroom, she lays down in bed and pulls you down next to her. Her arms wrap around you and you lay your head on her chest. Lithe fingers trace abstract patterns across your skin while your legs tangle together under the sheets. Rebecca kisses the top of your head and rests her cheek against it, an audible sigh escaping from her lips.
"Thank you." She quietly says.
Adjusting yourself to look up at her, you furrow your brows.
"For what?"
She looks down at you with a smile on her face and kisses your forehead.
"For putting up with me when I'm a raging bitch. For forgiving me, even when I don't think I deserve your forgiveness. For having the biggest heart I've ever seen in a person. For loving me, for everything."
Leaning up you place a soft kiss on her lips and nuzzle into her neck.
"I'll always love you, Rebecca."
"I'll always love you too, my love."
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katsu28 · 8 months
Note
hii!! i love your writing (especially your ted lasso works, although, i am a tad bit biased), and i was wondering if you could do 'orange rose' for the flower prompts with my bby sam obisanya? i've noticed an extreme lack of fics about him, but i absolutely adore him
thank you so much my dear!! sam is such a ray of sunshine and such a criminally underrated character and he deserves so much more love (and i will give it to him)
orange rose: experiencing constant as well as distracting thoughts of the other person, sam obisanya x reader, reader is the team physio (except my medical knowledge is basically nonexistent pls forgive any concussion inaccuracies oops), 1.3k
Sam’s mind was not with him on the pitch today. He’d been distracted during practice before, but never like this. He attributed it to you. It was always you. 
He saw you everyday, sometimes even multiple times a day, always volunteering to pop into the treatment room if one of the boys needed ice or tape. Sometimes he visited you without having an actual reason other than wanting to talk to you for a little bit. You were always a nice change from locker room talk (and you smelled a lot nicer too). 
You plagued his thoughts day in and day out, often distracting him from whatever he was doing because he was too busy thinking about what it would be like to do things with you. Mundane things like making breakfast together. Taking an evening stroll around Richmond. Helping him test out new recipes for Ola's.
There was a rather specific reason why you were the source of his distraction today, though. 
------- 
Sam heard his name echo through the empty car park, looking up from his phone in bewilderment that soon turned to joy when he spotted you jogging towards him.
He slowed his pace to a crawl, giving you time to fall into step with him on the way towards the facility entrance. You looked almost unbearably pretty like you always did. 
“Good morning,” He said cheerfully, smiling brightly at you. “How was your night?” 
“Good! I stayed in, so it was pretty quiet, just the way I like it.” Your arm brushed against his as you moved to let another person squeeze past you, and Sam swore his heart raced double time in his chest. He had to ward off thoughts of spending quiet nights with you before you noticed him acting weird. “Any fun plans tonight after training?” 
“Yes, actually! One of my friends is having their engagement party at Clos Maggiore, near the Royal Opera House. Maybe you know it?” 
“No way! I’ve been dying to try that place, but the waitlist is miles long. I’d probably be geriatric by the time I could get a table.” You sighed, offering him a shrug. A brilliant plan sprung to Sam’s mind at that very moment, and he decided to take the plunge and outright ask you what he wanted to. 
“Would you maybe want to go with me?” He asked, rocking back on his heels nervously. The corners of your mouth turned up into a small, hopeful smile. “As my date.” He added, praying that he wasn’t overstepping his bounds. 
That got a much bigger smile out of you, a beam whose magnitude could quite possibly rival the sun, in his opinion. It was one of Sam’s favorite things about you. 
“I would love to be your date, Sam.” 
“Really?” 
“‘Course. Dunno if you’d noticed, but I like you.” 
Sam’s answer was immediate. “I like you too.” 
He wanted to continue the conversation so badly, but you’d somehow arrived at the locker room without him even noticing. Normally he’d make an attempt to prolong the conversation, offering to walk you to your office, but he could see most of the team already booted up and ready to train. 
“I have to go.” He said, sounding a touch disheartened. You must’ve noticed, because you snaked your hand into his for a quick second, squeezing fondly before dropping your hand back down to your side. 
“Well, I guess I’ll see you tonight then. Six o’clock? Don’t be late.” You called, backpedaling down the corridor with another sunshine smile aimed his way. Sam nodded furiously. 
“I wouldn’t even dream of it.” 
-------
“Sam! Sam, watch—” 
Sam shook himself out of his thoughts, but not in time to see the ball hurtling right towards his face. 
Had he been paying attention, he would’ve seen the beautiful cross-field pass Jamie had lofted his way upon seeing that he was unmarked. Since he wasn’t, it slammed into the side of his head, sitting him right down on his ass in a sprawl of limbs. 
There was a symphony of shouts and the boys were by his side in an instant, crowding around him nervously as they waited to see if he was okay. Sam sat up slowly, rubbing his temple with a bewildered look aimed at his teammate. 
“You were lookin’ right at me, man, I thought you were open!” Jamie protested, raking his hands through his hair. “Did I break anything??” 
“Yeah bruv, did he crack your skull?” 
“How many fingers am I holding up?” 
“Do you remember how much money I owe you?” That one was Jan Maas, and it earned him an elbow to the gut. “What? I don’t want to pay him.”
“Sam! Do me a favor and come over here a sec!” Ted called, beckoning Sam over to the sidelines. “The rest of you boys head on over to Coach Beard for defense drills, chop chop!” 
With another shake of his head, Sam headed over. “Yes, Coach?” 
“First of all, you alright, son? Pretty nasty knock to the noggin you just got.” Ted looked genuinely concerned, but when Sam nodded, his mouth flattened into a rather disappointed line. “Good. Glad you’re okay. Second of all, your head’s further away from this pitch right now than E.T. from his home. Wanna tell me what’s going on, or do I gotta get all stern coach on you and make you tell me?” 
“Sorry Coach, I am just…” Sam trailed off, racking his brain for the right word to describe how he was feeling without having to tell Ted that he was distracted because he was thinking about you. Telling his coach he wasn’t one hundred percent into his training was definitely not a good move. “It’s nothing. I promise I won’t lose focus again. You have my word.” 
Ted tilted his head at the young player, as if contemplating whether or not to force the reason out of it. Eventually, he just shrugged. “Alright, well, why don’t you mosey on over to the treatment room to pay the good doc a visit? See if she can’t fix you up, make you right as rain again.”
Sam nodded, his eagerness to get back onto the pitch (and maybe at the prospect of seeing you again, even for just a little bit) sending him hurrying through the facility quickly. 
The door to the treatment room was ajar when he arrived, but he knocked anyway, poking his head in to scan for you. 
“You just couldn’t wait until after training to see me again, hm?” You sighed, smiling at him warmly from where you were looking over a chart. Sam offered a rather bashful smile and a soft greeting back, boots clicking on the floor as he shuffled into the small room. “Alright, come sit. Tell me what happened.” 
“The ball hit me in the head.” He mumbled, his cheeks growing warm with embarrassment. You clicked your tongue, fingers pressing against his scalp for any bumps or abnormalities. Your touch and close proximity made him shiver, but he liked to think he kept it under wraps quite well. 
“Do you have any nausea? Dizziness? Trouble remembering things?” Sam shook his head. He enjoyed being doted on by you, even if you were just doing your job. You patted his cheek goodnaturedly. “Well, other than that nice sized bruise where I’m assuming the ball hit you, I’m not seeing any signs of concussion.” 
“Thank god. I would’ve hated to disappoint the team.” 
“Just take this cold pack and ice your head for a while. Twenty minutes on, twenty minutes off, and repeat. The swelling should go down fairly soon, but I want you to let me know if you start feeling off.” You went to grab a bag of ice and a washcloth to wrap it in as you spoke. Sam’s eyes never left you, even when you came back to place the cold pack in his hand. “Would hate to lose out on Clos Maggiore because you got knocked on the head.” 
He nodded slowly, bringing the ice up to his head. “So you are only using me for my connections, I see.” 
“Pretty obvious, innit?” You winked playfully and getting hit in the head suddenly didn’t seem like the worst thing in the world. “Right, well you should get back to the pitch. Tell Ted you’re cleared for training after you ice.” 
“Yes, doctor.” He hesitated a moment, then crossed the room to press a quick kiss to your cheek before he could chicken out. “See you tonight.” 
Had he stayed a second longer, he would’ve seen how big your smile had gotten at the simple action. 
follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new fics :)
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chicken-fifi · 2 months
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Stray Kids Reaction | You Have a Heart Condition
Pairing: Stray Kids Members x Reader
Requested by @curiousgworge : hey! uhm, i know this request may sound weird, but i just had a procedure done and found out that i'm gonna need a peacemaker. im kinda freaked out and in a lot of pain right now, so how do you think the stray kids guys would be with a parter that has heart conditions? faints out of nowhere and gets real tired over almost nothing cause their heart just can't keep up. sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, but im kinda nervous and feel like this could calm me down? anyway, thankyou for coming to my TED talk 🤍
Genre: angst (?)/fluff (?)
A/n: i know i said it in my response but i wanted to say it here too, but i wish you the best in your procedure and a very speedy recovery. i genuinely hope that the pacemaker does help you for the better and that your nerves are eased a bit. please take care of yourself and your health. note for readers that this is not going to be medically accurate.
Tunes: You're forced to let go of your comfort character, but you can’t | Playlist | by Martine Malfoy
Bang Chan:
I envision Chris as being very protective of you in general
So if you have a heart condition he does nag a bit when you do things that he knows are going to tire you out or cause problems for you
Yes he’s busy, but ask him to do the hard things to spare you from the trouble and possible complications
He reads up on your condition and asks questions to get as familiar as he can with with it so he’s aware of the symptoms and signs he should be worried about
He also does his best to find activities that you can enjoy that can also help keep your heart healthy without tiring you out and joins you in doing them
“Please ask me to do this next time.”
Lee Know:
Minho gets worried and frets over you constantly
He tries not to let it show, but it does
He goes out of him way to do things for you when he notices that you’re doing something much more taxing than normal and plays it off as he was just just about to do the same thing anyways so why not
He does his best to be a good caretaker but also not cross a line that makes you uncomfortable
“Oh, this? I was going to do the same thing anyways so I’ll just do it.”
Changbin:
Also a bit of a nagger and frets over you
However Changbin does these things in a more silent manner
Like he’ll do them before you even think to avoid even the possibility of you doing something taxing
He also reminds you constantly to call him for anything
No matter how small
“Text me, call me. If you need anything done. Anything. Just call me and I’ll do it.”
Hyunjin:
Hyunjin is in a constant state of worry when he isn’t with you
He knows a fair amount about your condition from what you’ve told him and what he’s read from credible sources on the web
He also knows you can be stubborn and force yourself to do things rather than taking it easy and allowing yourself to be vulnerable
Which he understands, to go from being so independent to not being able to have level of independence is a hard transition
“Just let me help you out okay? I know you can do it, but please let me.”
Han:
Jisung picked up on everything really quickly
From the worrying rate at which you would get tired doing little things to the day you fainted
He’s the first person to call you on everything that you shouldn’t be doing when you’re supposed to be resting
It may be annoying and frustrating, but it comes from a well meaning place
He’s honestly just doesn’t know how to express that because for a hot minute he really thought he was going to lose you
“You’re supposed to be resting right now. It’s not good for your heart so soon after everything.”
Felix:
Another worrywart
Felix tries to read up and understand the condition from what your doctors tell him after your initial hospitalization
And he takes all of their suggestions to heart on what you should and shouldn’t do
He’s constantly on your heels just making sure you’re okay and it can get annoying here too
So he does try to back off but he continues to watch on and intervene when he notices things are going awry
“I’ll help you. You do this and I’ll do that, how does that sound?”
Seungmin:
Seungmin voices everything
Concerns, worries, fears, and questions
And listens to everything you have to say to about your condition
He supports your need and want to be independent
But also steps in when he notices that he needs to or when you not necessarily want to say or admit to needing some help
“I’ve got you. Don’t worry about it.”
I.N:
Jeongin is another who worries and it shows
His worry stems purely from the fact that there’s nothing he can to stop the illness
He can help avoid problems and do things for you that could lead to some serious health issues
But ultimately, there’s not much that he has any control over
And that terrifies him for you
But he does his best to support and be there for you
Taking all of your worries and carrying them with you as best as he can
“You’re not doing this alone. I’ll be here. Every single step of the way. I promise.”
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hello-kitty101 · 4 months
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Self-Improvement: How to Increase your Intelligence
Word Games:
Word games make you recall information quickly and accurately, making it an excellent way to improve your memory.
Word games make players come up with new words and learn their meaning; this helps build a larger vocabulary.
By challenging yourself to come up with new words, you will boost your overall creativity.
Sharpen Your Problem-Solving Skills through thinking critically.
De-stress and Relax: They're fun, relaxing, and engaging.
Improve Your Concentration by focusing for long periods of time.
Give Your Brain a Boost via memory, vocabulary, creativity, and problem-solving skills.
Puzzles:
Improved Memory:
Better Problem-Solving Skills
Increased IQ
Delay Dementia and Alzheimer’s
Improved Mood
Lower Stress Levels
Increased Attention to Detail
Increased Productivity
Chess:
1. Helps you with focusing skills
2. Improves memory
3. Improves planning skills
4. Helps ADHD
5. Decision making/problem solving
Benefits of Trivia Games:
1. Improve memory
2. Reduce stress
3. Improve problem-solving skills
Neglect Technology/Social Media:
1. Reduce stress
2. Allows you to focus on gratitude
3. Reduces feelings of being “lonely.”
Question, Don't Assume/Think Philosophically: Questioning everything fosters critical thinking, helps uncover hidden truths, promotes personal growth, and encourages a deeper understanding of the world around us. It challenges assumptions, stimulates curiosity, and can lead to more informed and thoughtful perspectives.
Hang Out with People Who Are Smarter: This is self-explanatory.
Get Some Physical Exercise:
Regular physical activity improves brain health and cognitive function.
Read Frequently:
Reading frequently offers numerous benefits, including expanding ones knowledge, improving vocabulary, enhancing critical thinking skills, reducing stress, and fostering empathy by sharing diverse perspectives. It also stimulates the brain, boosts creativity, and provides a valuable source of entertainment and relaxation.
Watch Ted Talks / Educational Videos:
1. They encourage critical thinking.
2. Help develop public speaking skills.
3. Improves listening skills.
4. Widens knowledge.
5. Encourages questions and discussion.
Manage Diet:
The brain requires proper nutrients to function well like omega-3 fatty acids, antioxidants, vitamins, and minerals support cognitive functions, memory, and overall brain health.
Manage Stress/Anxiety:
Managing stress is beneficial for intelligence because stress/anxiety can negatively impact cognitive functions and hurt ones memory.
To reduce stress/anxiety, practice gratitude and mindfulness to focus on the present rather than dreading on the past and worrying about the future.
Meditation Increases IQ
Meditators scored 20% higher on an IQ test and also were able to perform better under pressure.
Exercise
Question Everything No Matter What
Surround yourself with Intelligent People
When listening to an audio, Take Notes on the Important Parts so You Will Remember it Better.
Re-Teach what you Learned
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floofery · 1 month
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This is just some speculation: do we even know if Sunny actually lost his left eye?
Of course, it's missing in all post-true ending fanworks but, I'm curious.
We know Basil most likely stabbed it with the shears and that Sunny lost vision in it until he blacked out. But does that equate to permanent vision loss? A bandage covers his left eye in the True Route, but I suspected that even without eye removal bandages would be put over a healing eye, so I did a little research.
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I did minimal digging (only five or six websites and a couple of accounts from people who've sustained eye injuries) so, take this all with a grain of salt! (reblogs with more informed answers are great!!)
This is written rather sloppily as it's wednesday morning and I'm sick, but here's what I got.
It is entirely possible that Sunny kept his eye- and maybe recovered some of the lost vision.
A large puncture with the shears damaging his optic nerve would result in permanent vision loss- and damage to the retina is most likely to also end badly. It is possible for parts of the retina to heal, creating spotty vision with areas being completely blacked out and other areas visible, but usually the eye's done for.
Damage to anywhere else, however, is able to be fixed (with surgery).
If only the lens or the whites/sclera of the eye was stabbed, it is highly likely Sunny would be able to regain vision. Replacing the lens with an artificial one is a common type of surgery, which is also used in the case of cateracts (if no other treatment works).
Damage to the cornea or iris isn't as easy- a pierced iris is able to be treated but afterwards our guy would have to wear sunglasses around everywhere as it controls how much light the pupil lets into the eyeball. A damaged cornea would be far worse as the only way to get a new one is through a cornea transplant- however the cornea, iris, pupil, lenses, ect have no important nerves vital for vision- only the nerves that help you focus your eye or change the amount of light going in. Replacing them are complex procedures but they are possible (though it is important to note that cornea surgeries have high risk of failure).
I think it really depends on how Sunny was stabbed. I'm pretty sure the fight happened with both Basil and Sunny standing up- so Basil taking a swing and grazing Sunny's eye would cause bleeding and immense pain but is likely to be treatable. However, I see a lot of fanworks of Sunny being knocked to the ground and Basil driving the shears into his eye. I... don't believe this happened in canon (it wasn't mentioned in the little top bar "BASIL pushed SUNNY to the ground", ect) but if it did, this would have ten times the impact. If the shears gouged deep enough (and take this as an even bigger grain of salt) it could very well kill Sunny- right behind the eye is the brain. And even if they didn't, the wound would be much deeper with piercing of the retina and possibly the optic nerve.
thank you for coming to my ted talk LOL
Some notes:
-Omori happened in the '90s-2000's. I do not know if some of the surgeries (especially cornea transplants) had the same success rate back then as they do with more modern technology.
-I am NOT A DOCTOR. I found this out via multiple sources online. and please, I doubt anyone would ever do this but do NOT refer to this post if you or someone around you sustains an eye injury. I suggest calling 111 (or 911, or whatever the emergency number is in your region.)
-that's it! Ja!
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believemetheodore · 1 year
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Jealousy, Jealousy
Ted Lasso x Reader
Requested by @lavendernlemons (I'm so sorry it took so long!!!)
"okay, can i make a request for a ted x reader, where the reader’s brother/close male friend comes to visit the reader at richmond (reader is maybe keeley/rebecca’s PA) and ted gets a lil jelly? maybe an indirect confession from beard or roy that just can’t handle it anymore?"
___________________________________
Jealousy isn't usually his style. It doesn't fit. It pinches at his sides and sits tight around his chest, and shoulders. It closes in around a friendship and relationship he normally feels so comfortable in. It's like slipping into a once-favourite sweater that's been shrunk in the dryer. He has no intention of giving it away. Hoping that forcing himself to spend the day in it might make room might stretch things back into a tolerable-- no, loveable shape. 
He wonders briefly when this feeling settled in and made itself a home. He knows it's not rooted in any level of possessiveness, that's something he's never felt-- far too much a believer in everyone deserving their own autonomy. He accepts that it's likely the itch of insecurity tickling in the back of his mind. The fear that being him might be too much. not right. not enough. 
Regardless of the source of the emotion, watching his partner tucked under the arm of another man as they take a walk around the pitch just doesn't sit right with him. His heart clenches and he feels his hands doing the same. His palms are sweating and he chooses to head inside to get a drink, unable to watch the scene in front of him play out much longer. 
Beard meets him in the office silently offering a bottle of cold water. 
“You wanna talk about it, coach?” 
“Talk about what, Coach?” 
Beard raises his eyebrows shooting Ted a knowing look, “hey jealousy”.
“Great song-- I feel like we've had this conversation before”.
Beard shrugs. 
“It shouldn't bother me,” Ted offers, lowering himself into the chair at his desk, “but it does. I can't shake it. And it's nobody's fault. I know that”.
“You're right”.
 Ted stares puzzled as his friend, “can you elaborate?”
“It's not anyone's fault. But it isn't about blame. It's about fear. Insecurity. Vulnerability. They're friends. You know they're just friends-- still you're jealous. It's not a fault, it's just something you need to get to talking about”.
Ted nods, opening his mouth to speak.
“Not with me. With them,” Beard cuts him off before he can begin. 
At home he's quite at dinner his brain preferring to stew over all of his thoughts from the day rather than enjoy his meal or the company of the person he loves. He sits further away on the sofa. He Showers on his own when he'd normally crack a joke about conserving water, squeezing himself into the tiny stall jsut to share space and time for just a few more waking minutes. In bed he lays staring at the ceiling, motionless and silent. 
The words he wants are all stuck in his throat, and the ones that find their way to the tip of his tongue are all jumbled up, saturated in misplaced frustration and unfair comparisons. He wants to speak but he can't get his lips to move. So, he just lays there. 
“You were jealous today,” the statement is gentle. Non-judgmental. But it still lands like a punch to the gut, and the sour taste of guilt tickles at him. 
“Yes--uh, yeah. But not in a weird way…”
He stutters out.
 The laughter he's met with is surprising, but welcomed. It's good natured and warm made even better by the hand sliding into his and squeezing. Firm but gentle. Reassurance in the simplest way. 
“I'm sorry. Eddie and I are just friends,” rolling over, their eyes meet and he continues to listen, “and I know you're not one to be controlling in anyway, but I hadn't considered that it might not be very nice to see me so close with someone you've hardly met”.
“You have nothing to apologize for. I guess there's just some lingering insecurity I hadn't anticipated rearing it's head at me today. One minute I was fine and the next I was sinking. Like one of them quicksand traps!”
“I appreciate you telling me,” the statement is punctuated with a kiss, “I love you, Ted”.
“I love you too sweetheart”. 
His heart swells, a smile wide on his face. The tight grip of jealousy loosens, the lead load of guilt lightens. He breathes deep and settles, sinking into the mattress comfortable in the space he's carved out for himself. He appreciates the stretches he made today, the anxieties he had to navigate. He loves those who were by his side. Balance returned to his mind and heart. Jealousy isn't his style, but believing sure is, and with all the love they have in their hearts he knows there's nothing they aren't making it through. 
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closetnerd62 · 4 months
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Aftermath
A Lautski Fic
Part 1/2 : Breathe
As the Ghost of Max Jagerman disintegrated into the dark night, and Grace Chastity darted into the forest, black book in hand, Peter and Steph stood, hand in hand, in shock. Steph looked over at Peter, noticing the harrowed expression plastered across his face.
“Pete are you okay?” she asked. He stood, staring into the abyss. Frozen. “Peter.” she shook him, “Pete you’re shaking.”
Pete could feel his vision begin to blur, his chest tightening. His own hand grasped at the neck of his sweater, his breathing was short and shallow. His vision began to tunnel as if his soul was being dragged away from his own body. He stumbled back into a tree, sliding down the trunk into a fetal position.
“PETER!” Steph ran over to his side, eyes wide. “Peter, what’s happening?”
“P-panic at-t-tack” he gasped. He felt as though a rubber band had been wrapped around his lungs, tears welled in his eyes. Steph grabbed his hand.
“Holy Shit…Um.., just try to think of something else or-or slow your breathing.” she said, her attempt as a calm tone getting away from her. Peter gasped for air to no avail.
“I- I can’t” he choked. Steph took hold of his face.
“Look at me Pete. You can do this.” They took a breath together as he clung to her, his only source of grounding. He slowly began to take back control over his body. “There you go, you’re doing so good. Keep going.”
Steph stayed rubbing his back and breathing with him until he returned to a regular breathing pattern.
“Thanks.” he whispered, slumped against the tree trunk with exhaustion.
“Anytime.” She smiled gently. They sat in the silence, taking in the calm.
“Hey, um… I know you’ve already done a lot for me tonight, “ Pete muttered. “but uh- there’s a good chance my blood sugar drops soon, it usually does after something like this, and Ted gets really mad at me when I travel alone when it does, would you mind walking home with me?”
“Of course,” she replied. “Let’s roll Spankoffski.”
As the pair made their way to Pete and Ted’s apartment. Peter had begun to stumble, a surefire warning sign of the impending drop, and almost instinctively, Steph placed Pete’s arm around her shoulder, steadying him. He had to hide a small blush. He had gotten more woozy as the walk went on, needing her assistance making it up the stairs.
“Sorry, I’m kind of pathetic.” Pete mumbled
“Shut up Spankoffski, I was never into jock types anyway.”
“Peter, I told you to be home by 7.” Ted called from the kitchen as Steph as Pete pushed through the front door. “I’ve gotta get to a date with Char- Oh shit.” Ted's face dropped upon seeing Pete slung over Steph’s shoulder, pale.
“We didn’t have any food on us,” Steph told him as she transferred Pete to the couch. “So we came here. I didn’t really know what else to do when things started to go downhill.”
“Pete, what happened to the emergency snacks in your backpack? I’m not buying those gelatin free candies for nothing.” Ted asked.
“I forgot my bag at Beanies” Pete replied groggily.
“Dumbass.” Ted said under his breath as he went back into the kitchen, returning with a candy bar and a glass of juice. “You’re lucky I’m already making dinner, dipshit.” A light smell of smoke wafted into the room, “Shit! The pasta!” Ted ran back into the kitchen.
Steph and Peter sat on the couch in an awkward silence for a few minutes.
“You really don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” Pete said sheepishly. “I’ll be okay in a bit.”
“I’m not leaving until I know you’re okay, Pete.” She replied. “Besides, I don’t really want to go home. I’d rather not be alone.” She said with a dry laugh. Though she was trying to hide it, Pete could see her grief. They had both been through a lot in the past few days but Peter had at least gotten some time to process, Steph had lost her father just hours before. Sure he was an asshole but he was still her Dad. She had been there for him for the past hour, maybe it was his turn. He had just about hyped himself up enough to offer his support when Ted sauntered back into the living room.
“Alright kiddies, I definitely burned the pasta but I’ve gotta go, want me to order you some Pasquale’s delivery?”
“Yeah sure whatever thanks.” Pete replied absentmindedly, solely focused on Steph. Ted rolled his eyes as he left the apartment, sporting a small smile as he closed the door. The dorks got some game after all he thought.
“Pasquale’s Pete? On the first date? Have some respect for yourself.” Steph joked, trying to push her heartache to the side.
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discobiscotto · 2 months
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Just Guys Bein’ Dudes: A Needlessly Huge TED-Talk About Luca & Alberto’s Relationship
Ready for some big-brain BS?
Well, ready or not, here’s a “little” dive into how I interpret/perceive Luca and Alberto’s relationship.
Note: I’m referring to them as my own headcanon versions of them as men. It can certainly be applied to them as young adults and teens for sure, but I’m diving into ‘Ciao Luca’ territory specifically. So, there, just being clear on the who’s who.
What’s their deal anyhow?
Are they romantic partners? Are they attracted to eachother, yanno 👉🏻👈🏻? Buddies? Buddies with benefits? Are they even a couple? Are they husbands? What’s their deal?
So, a couple years ago when I was starting to get really busy with the headcanons, I went on a tear about their relationship to lay down some kind of clear foundation for it. I felt alittle conflicted at the time about how their relationship was going to feel/act like.
To me, because I love ambiguity, I wanted to keep that energy going from the original source material…but with alittle “oomph”…considering there’s been time and maturity tacked on. They can’t just be Pallin’ Around forever, something’s gotta give with chemistry that strong imo.
If I’m being honest, them being point-blank romantic partners felt too cliched and predictable/boring. Courtship, wooing, marriage…snore. It just didn’t feel like ‘them’ to me. It bordered heteronormative somehow. I was just …PUTTING MYSELF TO SLEEP.
Not to say they aren’t romantic, because they certainly are in their own right! It just isn’t the defining Vibe of their relationship.
As a queer lady with a pretty open mind in terms of what defines a relationship and/or bond, I believe that love expression is on a spectrum. Different strokes for different folks, yanno?
I scooted myself over to that old filing cabinet in my brain with random Greek Philosophy tid-bits (that I was impressed wasn’t put thru the incinerator) and I got polishing.
I remembered a few terms, like storge (family love), Eros: romantic, mania: obsessive/stalkerish love, agape, philia, the list goes on.
We’re gonna focus on PHILIA, typically deemed affectionate and/or “brotherly love”, I think also falls under platonic love.
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We’re going to come back to this later☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻
As a couple of seamonsters (first and foremost) the human concept of love may not necessarily compute to them. Not that they get confused or turn their nose up at it, but rather it’s more boxed-in and rigid than, I guess, fish love? Haha.
Example: homosexuality, bisexuality, and heterosexuality as concepts are human inventions to help humans navigate their life and their identity in the world, be part of a tribe, and potentially find mates.
They’re social constructs, like gender conformity, and Mondays.
Seamonsters really don’t have that. They’re similar to humans in alot of ways, but in terms of attraction, love, and social awareness, they just kindof ride the wave and go where the current takes them.
Opposite sex pairings likely happen more often because [gestures] instincts and Makin’ Fries. But just like humans, same sex relationships happen just as much!…but seamonsters have no concept of homophobia (strictly a human invention) so there’s no discouragement or imposed fear of the relationship…it just happens if it’s meant to and the world keeps spinning. [deep sighs]
Luca and Alberto are aware of human society and customs (especially now that they’ve been living amongst them for atleast 15 years). So, they still try to do-as-the-humans-do sometimes. They know that they feel a strong bond to eachother that can’t be ignored, and when humans sense a similar bond between each other they express it by being physically intimate, or giving gifts, or creating things for eachother, etc.
So, basically, it boils down to “I love my friend, so I wish to express that love for him like that [gesture].”
Now bringing it back to Philia up there!👆🏻
That particular source defines philia as brotherly love, both must be men (in the Greek system), they respect and take pleasure in eachother’s company, bond through exploring philosophical truths, and sexual intimacy or attraction is optional.
This other source takes it a bit further saying that we could be diving into “friends to lovers” territory which is the aforementioned “oomph” I was referring to. The bridge into Eros stuff without being completely rooted there (ie your usual romantic pair).
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Their relationship isn’t based on physical attraction, but began as a close friendship that progressed into something more. Not built on lust, but on mutual affection and respect for eachother.
They are an “unlikely” pair. Where a hockey hug became alittle tighter, and the joined hands in a good old “Piacere Girolamo Trombetta” started to linger.
They feel safe with eachother, they love and prefer eachother’s company, they share eachother’s worlds and feel deeply connected in them. Alberto cooks meals for them because he loves Luca, and Luca gives Alberto [SPOILER] because he loves him back.
They share a “I can’t quite put my finger on it but I feel safe, warm, and happy with you, I enjoy your company and what we have, I love the feeling of you being close to me, exchanging warmth and heartbeats, and I feel like this is more than going out on dates or ‘picking out curtains’.” kind of thing.
They’re roommates who kiss and “play house”. They are in love…but express it in their own unique way. They are openly affectionate. They keep people guessing, they confuse the neighbors, they have an “inside joke”.
Alberto lays on the housewife schtick: straightening Luca’s tie and sending him on his way with a packed lunch.
They call eachother heteronormative terms of endearment, mostly to be cheeky. Sarcastic “Honey” or “Dear” followed by someone affectionately ending up in a headlock.
They love to play with the human version of “married life”, little do they realize they’ve grown genuinely accustomed to it.
They’re queer but have no name and nowhere they’d rather be except each other’s arms (that one place that makes perfect sense).
They aren’t married…they never can get married…but that doesn’t stop them from sharing their homes, their beds, and a last name written on their Christmas cards.
In conclusion, humans say they’re gay.
The Paguro’s say “They built a farm together.”
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lesbian-deadpool · 1 year
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Y/N: You love rules. You should marry a rule. And have little rule children. And build a house made of rules.
Steve: You mean a house made of my own children?!
Y/N: That’s between you and your conscious.
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princebenvi · 7 months
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trent + laura, feat. eloise. circa 2021/2022
pt. 1, pt. 2
trent has quit his job.
well, he got fired, but he quit, you know?
he committed the cardinal sin of journalism, effectively blacklisting him from ever getting another job in the field he’s spent the last 20 years in, leaving him with no prospects and a future that’s never been more uncertain, but he’s doing great!
honestly. well, he’s a little (a lot) afraid for the future, but he made the right choice, he’s sure of it.
he sighs contentedly and crosses the threshold into his ex-wife’s house, and is met with his daughter barreling toward him at full force. he sweeps her up and spins her around.
“sorry i’m so late love, papa had a very busy day today! lost his job, got locked out of his car, and was kept company waiting for the locksmith by a very kind gaffer who offered dinner for this evening!”
eloise giggles, fully not absorbing anything other than her father’s brown eyes looking in her own.
trent smiles and hums a nameless tune as he spins her around a few more times, before she gets restless and squirms her way out of his arms to run to her room. he sighs with a smile and brushes his hair out of his face, turning to laura who is leaning against the kitchen island, staring at him with her arms crossed and a look of disbelief on her face.
“what?”
“you’re in love with the richmond gaffer, aren’t you?”
trent sputters. “excuse me?”
“you lost your job?” laura says, promptly moving on, and laughing a little bit. “how’d you manage that?”
“well, i quit. was fired. technically fired but it was my fault.”
“what did you do?” she puts her hands on her hips, still laughing.
“i. revealed an anonymous source. to the subject of the article i wrote. to the gaffer. to. to ted- coach lasso.”
she cackles. “oh you are fucked, trent, well and truly. what do you expect to do now? no more journalism for you, not even i can pull strings with this.”
“i’m looking for something deeper.”
she raises an eyebrow and snickers. “deeper?”
“journalism was growing shallow, im changing directions.”
“is this a midlife crisis?”
“i think the midlife crisis was my divorcing my wife of 17 years on account of the fact that i’m gay, but throwing my career away for a man i’ve known for two years might be part of it, sure.”
“so you are in love with the gaffer then.”
“unequivocally.”
“you’re fucked, trent.” laura grins.
“yes, i rather think i am,” trent says, mirroring her smile.
-
if you like this please consider supporting my top surgery journey <3
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hysteriamodes · 2 months
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The thing with the Alice x Bumby ship and people who support it not only don't understand the ramifications of what Bumby did to Alice and that it's pretty obvious he was continuing with his obsession with Lizzie.
Alice looks very much like her older sister and shares personality traits with Lizzie. So Alice would have ended up the same as Lizzie, assaulted and murdered. Because in terms of the type of serial offender Bumby is, the likelihood of him repeating the same crime was extremely high.
But also they don't understand that Bumby was not only targeting Alice but children, something that you can see in actual, real-life serial offenders like the Golden State Killer, Ted Bundy, or even Richard Ramirez. These were sexual sadists, Bumby is also a sexual sadist. Not to mention, Bundy worked in a suicide prevention call center so I don't know how you cannot draw the comparison.
So, I have had the term "anti" thrown at me, and normally, genuinely, I'm of the mind "I don't like this ship, so I'm not going to read it" because policing people over fictional ships is a waste of time. And I'll be the first to admit I especially hate this ship because I HAD several Bumbys in my life. I was sexually abused as a little girl, so I especially hate this character. And we do have several CSA survivors in fandom, they have had the same feelings. If you're writing a ship that mirrors our trauma, yeah, it's gonna piss people off. But I'm not gonna be mad enough to throw out death threats.
However.
And this is a big HOWEVER.
Largely, the biggest reason as to why I don't like it because anyone who dabbles in this ship cannot manage to keep it IC (in character). They fundamentally don't understand Alice's characterization:
1. Alice is an extremely guarded individual, literally anyone around her treats her like a burden, object, or belittle her sense of being.
2. It's highly unlikely Alice is going to romantically gush over someone, much less someone she put into a position of a mentor, so the swooning doesn't make any sense to me. If you're writing Alice in a romantic relationship, you have to keep in mind that it probably took a WHILE. When I write Alice in romantic relationships, it's a slow burn build up.
3. She likely is very reluctant to share the burden of her mental illness (unless slow burn, see above), so, again, Alice is not going to be the how to open up to people so easily.
4. Alice is extremely independent, most times. You can see she'd rather do it herself, without help unless it's a necessity, and she puts more trust in herself than in people. So, it wouldn't make sense for Alice to open up to Bumby, a doctor, outside of a patient.
And like. These shippers tend to "woobify" Bumby. He's not gonna be chivalrous.
1.He's a sociopath, so his empathy is non-existent. He didn't see Lizzie as a person, he saw her as an object he was entitled to.
2. He showed little regard to Mr. Liddell, his superior, someone he kept going to see, as his mentor. He exploited that dynamic only on the account of Lizzie.
3. The man has a superiority complex, so he won't see anyone as his equal. His ego was too big and he was so full of himself and he underestimated Alice (like everyone else) and doesn't care for her, at all.
So, every time I see this ship pop up, these characters are so woefully OOC (out of character) and that shows me you didn't understand the source material.
If you're into a dark ship, that's fine, but you're essentially re-writing characters so far from the original source material that they may as well be your own characters. You can find a dark ship with Alice, but pick someone better than Bumby. Like, guys, Bumby would have done the same thing he did to Lizzie to Alice and Alice found out at the last minute before he had the chance.
Just saying as an Alice RPer.
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marimayscarlett · 13 days
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I think Hugo and Richard need to work together.
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Hi my dear 🤍 and thank you for throwing yet another opportunity in my direction to talk about my main and my side-obession in one post 👀
Please hold the line, I need to process my immense love for men venturing out into fruity/feminine fashion, I'll be right with you 😀
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Ok, now that's better 👌🏼
I think so too! And maybe they would get along well. You will laugh, but my delusional mind immediately draws some similarities between them (eventhough they have pretty different characters) - most likely just because they're both artists and I have a thing for them, but still.
Both Richard and Hugo were determined to become an artist from an early age on - Richard telling others as a child that he'll become a rockstar when he grows up, Hugo stepped foot out of school and went straight into acting school without looking back. While both being immensely successful in their respective careers - Richard having world wide success with Rammstein and is filling stadiums year after year now, Hugo quite literally hopping from one modern classic to the next (Lord of the Rings, Matrix, The Hobbit, V for Vendetta, Priscilla and more), both make indications that they kind of prefere the quieter/more simpler surroundings. Richard emphasizing several times how he would like to do a more toned down stage performance to give the music more space (I have an ask about it here), Hugo prefering smaller sets more than the immense big ones like LotR and Matrix and finds a lot of joy in theater acting (more raw and direct than movies). Both really live for their familys - in the linked interview Hugo mentiones he would gladly give his career up for his family and rather stays in Australia than to move closer to Hollywood (which he isn't a big fan of anyway), Richard moving back to Berlin to ensure a proper surrounding for the upbringing of his child as well as gathers his loved ones around him a lot.
And especially, both are extremely passionate about their work and can get quite intense about it, and while watching and reading interviews, you can immediately recognize their drive and passion. Which ultimatively is one of the things I absolutely love in people the most, and draws me to them most of the time 😊
And they are kind of a tiny bit connected! 'Du hast' was included on the soundtrack of the first Matrix movie (only on CD, not in the movie itself) in which Hugo played the infamous role of Agent Smith.
In a parallel universe, like in a 'Richard ventures out as a producer and cinema-lover into the world of movies'-AU (producing a movie, writing music for it, etc.), maybe they really could work together 😅 And Hugo once mentioned that he really likes Berlin due to the vast amount of different theaters the city has to offer 😊
Oh, and some more compelling arguments in my eyes regarding silly similarities (mentioning them just because i can):
Both have no problem dressing up in women's clothing and seemingly find a LOT of joy in it (like you already shown so beautifully in your ask 🙏🏼):
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Both also have absolutely no problem going all in when it comes to kissing their male counterparts:
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And both have an ass that won't quit, this is beside the point but still:
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(gif sources: x, x)
All in all, thank you for coming to my delusional TED Talk about the several connections between my two favourites I made up in my unhinged little mind 🤝🏼
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yamayuandadu · 6 months
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who was nergal syncrestised with in hatra? apparently it was the iranic god verethragna but verethragna himself was syncretised with heracles. is it possible that all three deities were syncretised with each other?
First things first, I must admit I've been really enjoying the recent wave of very focused questions. It's actually easier to answer these than vague ones like "why was Inanna important". The worship of Nergal in Hatra is a complex topic because the city arose very late, there's only evidence of settlement from the final centuries of the first millennium BCE. Lucinda Dirven in her study of the matter basically characterized the local Nergal as "a Herakles-figure (...) worshipped in Hatra under the name of Nergal" rather than as outright the same deity Shulgi built a temple for in Kutha. She notes most of the art of the god follows Greco-Roman Heracles iconography, and anything resembling the classic Mesopotamian Nergal is uncommon. Ted Kaizer in his slightly earlier article questioned identifying the Heracles figure with Nergal altogether, though Dirven considers this too extreme. So, in other words, we have a deity who seemingly was called Nergal (multiple inscriptions confirm that directly), had Nergal's traditional roles tied to war, death and punishment, but looked enough like Herakles for this to be a very murky matter. And there are peculiarities which are strictly local, such as the association of dogs which is exclusive to the Parthian period and has no real precedent in Mesopotamia (medicine goddesses were associated with dogs, and Marduk has four attack dogs in his court, but Nergal has nothing like that at any earlier point in time). I think Dirven's "Nergal-Herakles" label is warranted and explains the situation best. Association between Nergal and Heracles was not limited to Hatra, and pops up in a few other cities in Hellenistic times; Heracles was associated with various fully divine foreign figures though, so it should not be surprising (see ex. the case of Sandas from Tarsus as another example) An additional problem is that some of the Herakles figures are actually inscribed with the name Gad, but that's a whole other can of worms, and here this might simply be a designation of the god as the tutelary deity of specific families, not a reference to Gad understood as an independent deity. As for the Iranian side: one of the best attested epithets of "Nergal-Herakles" in Hatra, Dahashpata ("lord of the guards" or "executioner"), seems to originate in an Iranian language. The connection to dogs might be borrowed from an Iranian milieu too, though more from the general perception of these animals as guardians of the dead etc. rather than from their link to a specific figure. I see no reference to Verethragna in Dirven's paper, and Shenkar's Intangible Spirits and Graven Images doesn't mention any connection between him and Nergal either - it just mentions that he was identified with Heracles in Commagene, Mesene and presumably in various locations in Armenia, but that even this was not universal because they're two different deities in Kushan sources which probably reflect a preexisting Iranian tradition. To sum up, I cannot really give you a straightforward answer. The god worshiped in Hatra definitely combined Mesopotamian, Greek and Iranian elements. However, even though Nergal, Heracles and Verethragna definitely show some similarities in terms of character, and Heracles could be viewed as analogous to both of them in different contexts, but I can't find any evidence that they were regarded as a three-way set of equivalents the way, say, Enlil, Dagan and Kumarbi were understood as in in the second millennium BCE. The closest point of connection between Verethragna and Nergal is the fact both of them corresponded to the same planet, as pointed out in Encyclopedia Iranica, but I am unable to find any recent source arguing this was anything like the Tishtrya-Nabu situation. In the light of the recently proven lack of any real connection between Anahita and Ishtar beyond sharing the same planetary symbol I'd be very cautious with similar claims about other supposed pairs.
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ohreallyjenn · 1 year
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Thinking about the subtlety of how Ted expresses his disappointment with Nate. In Ted's press conference, he calls Nate a "junkyard dog", which would stand out to Nate because he was the one that coined the name of the "Diamond Dogs". The Diamond Dogs were about honesty, vulnerability, and support, and Nate broke those agreements when he spoke as the anonymous source. Some of the jokes Ted makes about himself are things Nate has judged him on, like the Dr. Phil quip that alludes to his focus on relationships and emotional maturity of his players rather than game tactics, and of course his jokes about his panic attacks and anxiety. Ted may be always trying to keep things positive and let the poop flow past, but he is still taking some steps to express in his own way how his feelings have changed for Nate, and in the press conference he is signaling that directly to Nate with his word choices.
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