#and while normally id appreciate the challenge | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pbandjesse · 1 year ago

Text

Today was a really good day. I am absolutely exhausted. And also very cold! I am excited to go to sleep.

I slept okay last night. I was still in a weird mood and I think if effected my dreams. I slept in and I think that helped a lot. But I still probably could have slept more.

I don't remember James leaving. But I would be okay when I got up. I got dressed and felt really pretty today. My lip hurts but is healing. My hair and makeup were great. I was in a good mood.

I had a snack for breakfast while I waited to hear from my mom. She had picked up Aunt Nadine around 9 and should be to me around 1030. So I had a little time to kill. I picked up a few things. Hung out with sweetp. And watched tiktoks on the couch. And very soon mom called me that they were downstairs.

When I got down there I laughed at them because they had parked out front and the sidewalk was so high next to Mom's car that she couldn't open the door. It got stuck on the sidewalk. Which is something that used to happen when we had the Toyota so it was very funny. I directed her to move the car to the side street and it would be easier.

She brought boxes for me for packing which was very appreciated. Hugs all around and then I took them inside. There were many complaints about the steps but we made it upstairs and I gave a mini tour and sweetp was so chatty at them which I thought was funny. He's such a baby.

We wouldn't stay at the apartment for long. We all piled into my car (after Nadine got stuck in the door and I had to feed her. We were really off to a great start) and I drove us to lunch at the Southside diner.

I have never had to wait before but it's a Saturday and we went st s normal meal time so it wasn't shocking. Just not much space to wait.

It was funny seeing Nadine make friends with other people, complimenting necklaces and stuff. And I was just enjoying being with my mom. I was feeling really happy having her here.

We did eventually get a table and the food would come quick. I loved talked to them both though. About Disney and moving and the house and the feelings I've had and I was just enjoying having them be there. I hope this isn't a one time thing.

After we finished eating and paid, I drove us over to the museum to say hi to James. Seeing my mom give them a big hug was so cute. I went to use the bathroom and had a brand new experience!

There was a huge event at the museum today for school kids doing a city building challenge so there were a bunch of kids. And right outside the bathroom was a group of preteen girls in hijabs. They came in the bathroom after me and almost all immediately took the hijabs off! I was slightly shocked but also. It's an all women's space. So it makes sense. But it was like when someone takes off their bra at the end of the day and go. Whew! They all made that face! They fixed their hair and put some water behind their ears and readjusted. It was just so sweet. We smiled at each other when we were washing out hands.

I went to give James a hug to. Mom was looking at the gift shop. Stanley came through and I introduced him to mom. And he made a fuss about me being great. I told him we would be back at BMI tomorrow but it was just to busy today. He said he knew that was right. We headed out soon after that as more people were coming in.

We drove around the block twice because I was struggling to figure out how to park at AVAM. Which was making me very stressed out but Mom told me I was okay and I ended up finding a spot across the street. I didn't know how long we would be there so I absolutely overpaid the parking but it was $3 so whatever.

I brought my staff id card that I was given when I did the contract work with them last year and I asked if I could get a discount. Mom and Nadine were like we can pay we can pay and I'm like shhh I'm haggling. And I got us all in for free I'm the best.

And I had a really good time. The one exhibit was dozens of large scale quilted embroidery pieces that told all the memories of a Holocaust survivor. Just a wild feat. There was also a really interesting exhibit from a woman with down syndrome that made these wrapped pieces and they x-rayed one to show what was inside and that was really fascinating. I really enjoyed talking about the pieces with mom and Nadine. The interesting thing about the visionary museum is that it's all self taught outside artists and there are some really funky pieces and it's just really cool to see how silly or serious or political different things can be. To see the different influences. I really enjoyed seeing the pieces. I love seeing art and it always leaves me feeling so inspired.

Before we went to the second building we stopped in the gift shop. Where Nadine lost us and thought we left her. But we were just looking at the books. I got one about turquoise jewelry of the southwest and they had a basket of Disney pins so I got a few of those to share with Jess. And after mom talked to the cashier and one of the workers for a while we went to get Nadine and walked to the other building. I climbed up in the one structure and we had some nice conversations about art and the other building is fun because it's the painted screens and the whirligigs and Fifi the giant poodle is there. It was fun.

Mom and Nadine were sitting on a bench while I was turning all the cranks and pushing all the buttons for the whirligigs. Nadine was struggling to get their reservation to confirm for the hotel but got them on the phone and became best friends with the customer service person. I was glad they have a nice room to stay in.

I wanted to show them where the house is. So I drove us all to Patterson Park and parked outside of our new place. Mom was surprised how narrow it is. It's 15 feet across inside. It's a little place for sure but they both grew up in a row house so I don't think they should be very surprised. They both seemed to like the block and the neighborhood. And after I drove us around to the alley which was the first time I've done that and it was neat to see how it was laid out from that side. I am curious if we can park there. We will have to see. It might be helpful for moving. But also it's angle parking instead of parallel so that also might be nice.

Mom had to get out of the car to move a trash can. And then I drove us around the entirety of the park so they could see how nice the park and neighborhood was. I also showed them where it gets slightly rougher but even then neither of them seemed concerned. I felt very supported and was just having fun pointing stuff out and being a tour guide.

After driving around the whole park I pointed out again where the house was. And showed how close things were to what, I took us back to the apartment. We decided we would take a break and they would go lay down and we would meet back up for dinner. This seemed like the best plan. And it worked out beautifully.

Once I parked we had big hugs and they left to go to the hotel. And I went upstairs. I was chilly. But I wanted to get at least something done even if it was small. I pulled out my suitcase and got that a little more ready. With my new little bag that I made sure fits my water bottle and umbrella. And affixed my new pins. Packed the ones for Jess. I spent a few minutes trying to find my clean toiletry airport bag. Which I did finally find in my other suitcase. So I sorted my nonliquids and my liquids and was glad to at least get a little bit accomplished.

I laid in bed with sweetp for the next hour and a half. Until James came home. I was just really cold and it was cozy in bed so why would I leave. I was happy to see James. They had a very long day. And we're pretty tired. But they were ready to leave for dinner whenever we needed to.

Mom called me as James was telling me a story about their day and thought she heard yelling. No my husband just speaks in shouts when they are excited. We decided to meet at their hotel at 6. So me and James would leave the house at 545.

And when we got there we pulled into the valet and told them we were there to get my mom and my aunt and the valet man was very nice. Opening doors for them and such. And then we were off.

Matthews would be very busy. I am not used to going to meals at normal times. But it wasn't a terrible wait. I had brought out wedding book to show Nadine so we had something to pass the time. I talked to the people waiting next to us and recommended the Thai pie to them and after they are they thanked me for the excellent recommendation. Which made me feel really good.

Nadine got tired of standing to wait and went and store a seat and I was very worried the waitress would be mad at us but it would be fine. And that's the table we ended up sat at anyway. And it took a while because they had just had a three table family party that obviously overloaded them a little but I was having fun talking and telling stories about hello kitty and giving a presentation on my wishlist for the year and explaining how the CIA selling weapons to Osama lead to Ellen losing her talk show and it was all very silly and fun.

And the food was great. I love Mathews and I'm really glad it worked out even if it was a little wait. I was happy with my family.

After we finished and paid I had James take out picture outside. And I just felt so much love.

We took them back to the hotel. I got out of the car to give hugs. And confirmed our plan for the morning. And then me and James headed home.

We got back here in one piece. James had music going and was singing and dancing at me. Being a goof. Love my silly husband.

I would take a shower. And got in my jammies and now we are in bed and I am really ready to sleep. I hope my mom and my aunt are resting and having fun being girls together in a hotel. I hope they have a nice view from their room. And I really hope we have fun tomorrow.

I hope you all sleep well tonight. Kiss your cats for me. Love you guys. Goodnight!

3 notes · View notes

frontproofmedia · 9 months ago

Text

Jaron Ennis and Cody Crowley Meet at Philly Presser

(adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({});

Follow @Frontproofmedia!function(d,s,id){var js,fjs=d.getElementsByTagName(s)[0],p=/^http:/.test(d.location)?'http':'https';if(!d.getElementById(id)){js=d.createElement(s);js.id=id;js.src=p+'://platform.twitter.com/widgets.js';fjs.parentNode.insertBefore(js,fjs);}}(document, 'script', 'twitter-wjs');

Published: May 10, 2024

IBF Welterweight king defends his crown against unbeaten mandatory challenger on July 13 at Wells Fargo Center

Jaron Ennis and Cody Crowley came face-to-face at a launch press conference today in Philadelphia – as tickets flew for the homecoming defense of Ennis at Wells Fargo Center on Saturday July 13, live worldwide on DAZN.

TICKETS ARE ON GENERAL SALE NOW FROM TICKETMASTER.COM

Ennis fights at home for the first time as a World champion and the first time since November 2018, and fans flocked to snap up tickets for the next household name of the sport, with presale tickets selling out on Thursday and then the general sale tickets proving a huge hit. PRESS CONFERENCE QUOTES: Jaron Ennis “He’s got to get in that ring and it’s going to get nasty. Keep talking and he’s going to get the worst beating of his life. I promise you that. We can make a bet or whatever. You’re in my city. It’s going to get nasty, man. “Look, I’m glad you accepted the fight. July 13 at the Wells Fargo Center. I’m very excited. It's the first big fight here and it’s a blessing. I’m glad I’m going to be able to be here and put on a show. I want to look good and retain my belt in a beautiful, knockout fashion, in front of my friends, family and supporters. “Listen, there’s really no pressure on me. I’ve been in this game since I was a baby. There’s no pressure. It’s normal for me. My brother has been at the top and I’ve seen all this stuff before. This is like being at home in my house right now. It’s natural for me and it’s normal. “On fight night, I can’t wait. He [Crowley] has got more pressure than me, I’ll tell you that right now. He’s going to have 20,000 fans against him and that’s way more pressure on him than me. For me being here, it will be like sitting at home with my feet up. “You know, he’s definitely a good fighter and a tough guy. But on July 13 it’s going to get nasty and I’m telling you that now. I’m going to put on a beautiful show and I’m going to look good. We’re going to do it in a knockout fashion. “My main focus right now is Cody Crowley. My eyes are on him. After this? Definitely undisputed, for sure. I want to go and collect all the rest of the belts, then go up to 154 and do the same thing there. “By the time I fight on July 13, it’s going to be a year. Everybody's missed me. I’m the best. I’m the best at this game, I’m the most exciting in this game and the fans love to see knockouts, so of course they’re going to come out to see me. For sure. They’re going to come and see me put on a show, beat him up, beat him down, then get the knockout. “I want to thank Cody for coming out to fight. I appreciate that. But I’m sorry it had to be you. “You know my story and I can’t wait for this. Don’t miss it and make sure you tune in because on July 13, we’re going to put on that beautiful show. We back on tour, that P-I-A-C tour. Let’s get it, CBG! “July 13, we’re taking him to the church. Philly, you in?” Cody Crowley “I’ve been out of boxing for the last year after people on my team done stuff, so I’ve been totally out. I had people trying to negotiate on my behalf when I’ve been out. Then I tried to get back into boxing and then I had emergency double eye surgery. I just said I got my eyes taken from me and I’m still getting booed? This is kind of… hey, we don’t have to have a show on July 13! It takes two to tango and I am very, very excited to be here and I am very excited to fight Boots Ennis because I have wanted to fight him for a while. “I wasn’t even fighting, and I’ve been dealing with a lot of mental health. I didn’t even want to live for the past couple of years. Then my dad [passed away]. Just like everyone else in this room, when you have things happen to you it takes time to get over it. It takes time to heal yourself and come back and step up. “So, I went away and did what I had to do to try and heal myself. Then I had people who weren’t even on my team trying to negotiate for me. Like I said, I just wanted to reach out to you [Boots], DM you and say how can we just make this happen? “I want to fight for a World title and if I fight for a World title, there is one, two, three, four World titles, I want to fight the very best in the world. And I believe that at 147 right now that Jaron Ennis, you are that guy. So why would I want to fight anyone else? Out of respect to you Jaron, I love you. I hope you have the best sleep on the Friday night because on the Saturday, I want the best you to show up because I want to be there. The best me is going to show up. “There’s a lot of people who didn’t [step up] and it takes two to tango. You can’t even put on the gloves by yourself. You need your dad to put them on. “I had WBC opportunities, I had WBA and WBO opportunities, but I chose you. How comes World champions at 147 are moving up to 154? How comes former World champions won’t even fight him for a certain amount of money? It’s because he has got the crown. He's the man right now. “Listen, this is a real-life Rocky Story. I’ve had my whole, entire life taken from me. I’m ready to die on July 13. He has a man in front of him who is ready to die. I'm serious. “The last time I was going for the IBF, I was going against the No.1 contender, and I went from No.6 after I beat him to No.14. So that tells you none of this s*** is real and it’s all f****** illusions. I don’t care about this IBF title. I don’t need the title. And I don’t need any of your guys’ acceptance. I’m whole in myself and I’m happy. I’m just proud of myself to be here. All the s*** that I’ve been through, I pulled on and I kept going. How many of you have stuff going on in your life and when you wake up you question whether you get up and keep going, or do I sit here pop a Coke and have a little potato chip? It’s much easier to do that and be comfy every day. But I’m a champion at heart. I’m a champion at life. I get up and I don’t quit. “I went through the back door to get here. There are gatekeepers and certain things you have to do to get to this level. I had my own promotional company, and I was my own promoter. I’ve done everything I had to do to get to this moment and I’m not going to let anyone steal my happiness or my joy. My heart is way too powerful for that. “I can’t wait. The second I get to walk out in front of all these people booing me, and in front of Jaron looking at me thinking he’s going to walk right through me, it’s going to be the most beautiful moment of my life where I get to actually show up the highest version of myself. I have to walk through that fire and every decision I have made in my life is going to show on July 13. “I’m pretty excited for this to happen and I’m pretty excited to become a champion of the world. I want to thank Jaron Ennis because in this fight, you are setting me free. “I’m an honest guy and Jaron, you know I am coming to fight. So, it’s going to be an exciting time and I’m going to be right there for you so we can allow the best man to win. I’m going to put my heart down and I know he is going to do the same thing. That’s it. “For my dad, up in heaven, this one is for you. I love you.” Matchroom Sport chairman, Eddie Hearn “What a great reception and what an incredible turnout. Before we get started for this incredible event on July 13, live on DAZN, judging by the pre-sale yesterday and judging by the general sale this morning I think we should make an official announcement that the Wells Fargo Center is now the home of Jaron ‘Boots’ Ennis. “It took me five years to sign this man. I remember the first meeting we had in Las Vegas it was during the Canelo-Daniel Jacobs fight week. Someone said to me we had a chance to get Boots Ennis. Now there’s a lot of people here and it’s no secret here that everybody has known for a very long time that this guy is the real deal. A year later, then six months later, I said to everyone stop wasting our time. But shout out to Shaun Palmer and Kevin Rooney that they kept trying. And recently, of course, we made the huge announcement that Jaron Ennis would be signing with Matchroom Boxing and DAZN. “Now, this was a massive announcement for us. The news and the ramifications it’s had in the world of boxing has been simply incredible. The numbers we saw from it and the excitement it generated with many saying, finally he is going to get let off leash and show the world how great he is. “But the most important thing to me was to bring him home to Philadelphia – and we made it happen. When you have a fighter as special as this and you have a city as great as this – and people don’t even understand the history of boxing in this city – how has he never even fought here before? “Well, now, it’s time for all of that to change. And on July 13, your champion, Philadelphia’s champion, will defend his IBF Welterweight World title against a mandatory challenger in Cody Crowley live on DAZN around the world. “When I walked in the arena this morning, the first thing I said to myself was: “Wow. Wow. What a place.” And I looked out and in the middle of the arena was Jaron Ennis doing exactly the same thing. “What a great thing for someone from this city, who has dedicated his whole life to the sport with his father Bozy and his family, who has lived the life and is a great ambassador for you all, to finally get his moment and fight here and fight in front of his people and his city on July 13. “But you know the great thing? And I shouldn’t really say this! But sometimes I go to a city and I tell a little bit of a 'porky pie' – that’s a ‘lie' in the UK – and I might say something like: “Oh, this kid! He's going to be a World champion. He could be a great, he could be this…” and that’s my job. But the difference is when you have a fighter like Jaron Ennis, I’m not even lying. So now the whole city can say not only are we bringing big-time, World championship boxing back to Philadelphia, we’re doing it with a young man who may the very best in the entire sport. “Of course, he’s got to prove it and he’s got to prove it against a very, very tough and undefeated mandatory challenger, Cody Crowley – who, I’ve got to say, is just as excited as Jaron Ennis by the way. He came up to me earlier too with a huge smile on his face. He’s already run the Rocky Steps this morning and he said to me that this is his dream, and this is his time. He said he knows that this is the big homecoming. But, as he said on his Instagram earlier today, ‘I’m going to steal the hearts of Philadelphia’. Come on guys… I thought it was a nice line! “Just a word or two before I start this press conference, but this fight is part of an unprecedented schedule live on DAZN. “DAZN has absolutely become the global home of boxing. Last week we had Canelo against Munguia. A couple of weeks before we had Haney versus Garcia. Tomorrow night in Mexico we have a huge card with Rocky Hernandez and Erika Cruz defending her world title. And, of course, next week we have Fury against Usyk live on DAZN for the World Heavyweight Undisputed Championship in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia, where Joe Cordina and Jai Opetaia will be defending their world titles. “Then we fly back to the UK for a huge, all-British domestic fight with Josh Taylor against Jack Catterall in Leeds before we head back out to Riyadh for a historic night with Dmitry Bivol and the 5-v-5. Then we are in Puerto Rico for another World Champion, Subriel Matias, defending his World title before we’re back to the UK for an incredible card in Birmingham. Then we’re in Phoenix for Bam against Estrada – what a fight. Then we have July 6, which we’ll announce shortly and on July 13 we will be here in Philadelphia. I cannot wait. “It always takes two fighters to make fights to happen and I promise you there aren’t many fighters in the world who want to take on the challenge of fighting Jaron Ennis. Everything Cody has been through has brought him to this moment. I want to thank him for coming today and I want to thank him for accepting this fight. We look forward to seeing you in Philadelphia on fight week. “And, of course, the man who will fill this place up and bring big-time boxing back to this city, the reigning and defending IBF Welterweight World champion, Jaron ‘Boots' Ennis. “As I said, the pre-sale and general sale has been incredible. We’re already at 10-12,000 and we want to fill this place up. Spread the word, we’re bringing World championship boxing back to this great city and it will be live on DAZN.” Bozy Ennis, father and trainer of Jaron Ennis “The way you talking [to Anthony Girges, Cody Crowley’s manager], after they fight maybe me and you get the gloves on. We can go to my gym now. We’ll see. “Why didn’t you accept the challenge last year [for Crowley to face Boots]? We offered you $300,000 to fight him and he turned it down. He turned it down. What happened? I like you Cody, but he [Anthony] is talking that tough s*** so I will stop him. I'll stop him. “Cody, let me say one thing. They said you were trying to go for the WBC. But they made you take the IBF because you were the mandatory for the IBF. Understand this, we wanted to fight Crowley and we wanted to fight Spence. We didn’t ask nobody to take the title. We wanted him to fight us. “We appreciate Cody for taking this fight because so many other people turned Boots down. Even the top guys. We wanted Spence. We wanted Crawford. Virgil. All of them. We sent them to word. “I want to thank everyone for coming out, buying tickets and everything. I appreciate Cody and his team for taking the fight. He’s a good fighter. You can’t take anything away from him and I respect him. But you are going to see something different. “Cody can fight. But you’ll see him [Boots] go to another level, which you saw in the last fight he went to another level when he’s in with someone who is real good. He might go to a different level this time too. It all depends on which version of Cody’s coming out. “One more thing. We fight all ways. You want to fight, we’ll fight. You want to box, we can box. We can do everything.” Anthony Girges, manager of Cody Crowley “He is more than ready. Nobody has seen this version of Cody Crowley. From everything, A-Z. From the management team to the training team to the resources. A-Z, nobody has even seen him. Boots shouldn’t even watch videos of him because he will be unrecognizable on fight night come July 13. “I see you already forgot the belt at home. Are you ready to lose it? Yeah. Bro, you got emailed that belt. You didn’t even win it. You’re not even a champion. Just so you know, we’ve had plenty of opportunities. But he’s been waiting for you. He’s here. “Eddie, I’m really sorry that this is his [Boots] first fight under Matchroom. I apologize because I like you. He [Cody] is the real-life Rocky Story and he’s in your hometown. We didn’t turn anything down before. We are here. “Cody will be walking out of here on July 13 as the new World Champion. That’s all I’ve got to say.”

(Featured Photo: Andrew Maclean/Matchroom)

#HF #Jaron Ennis #Cody Crowley #Matchroom Boxing #DAZN

0 notes

pearlcaddy · 2 years ago

Text

I really need people who don't watch The Try Guys and only know about them from the recent Ned bullshit to appreciate their most recent video.

For the past couple months, they've been releasing a mix of videos that in some cases have been carefully edited around Ned and in others been shot recently without him. There's been some shade sprinkled throughout the newer stuff, and there was this particular gem in a recent video:

[ID: Screenshot from Try Guys 30-Day Meditation Challenge of Keith standing in front of the cover of the Try Guys' book, The Hidden Power of Fucking Up. Normally the cover has a photo of all four Try Guys, but the image of Ned has been replaced with a blank 404 error message.]

In general, their approach has been to throw some shade but ultimately cut around and ignore him.

But now it's Without a Recipe season.

WAR is one of the Try Guys' major series, released during November and December, in which they compete with each other to bake an item without a recipe, usually to disastrous results. Because the videos are long and such a central part of their winter holiday schedule, the videos are filmed months in advance. (Despite how long this post is, I'm a very casual fan, but my understanding is it's shot in the summer?) Which means that these episodes were filmed pre-scandal and that they're very difficult episodes to scrap or reshoot. And, given the camera set-up, it would be almost impossible to completely cut out a participant.

So they went a different direction.

[ID: Screenshot of the title card reading, "The Try Guys: Without a Recipe. Everything is Fine: A Totally Normal Season." Next to the text are images of explosions and a sarcastic hand giving a thumbs up.]

The shade in this episode starts early. Zach has consistently been the weakest baker, but his chyron for this year was unapologetic.

[ID: Screenshot of Zach being interviewed by the camera. At the bottom of the screen is a chryon that reads, "Zach: No longer the 4th best."]

For the most part, the episode cuts around Ned; the audience isn't told what type of Pop-Tart he bakes and we don't see the judges tasting and reviewing his bake. Group shots of the four Try Guys tend to be cropped so that only Keith, Eugene, and Zach are visible.

The time he's made most visible in the background is in these shots:

[ID: Screenshot of Keith in the foreground. Behind him is Ned, seen from the shoulders down. The framing deliberately leaves the text on Ned's shirt visible. It reads, "I love bad ideas," followed by the heart on fire emoji.]

But my favorite parts of the video are when they just replace him. Because, while the rest of the episode plays like a normal episode, there's wild shit happening whenever Ned would have been on screen.

There's one time when the editors wink to a fan theory that they'd used a fake pole to partially edit him out of a shot in a previous video. How? By needlessly covering him with a fake pole instead of cropping him out the way they do with all the other shots from the same camera set-up.

[ID: Screenshot of Zach in the foreground. To his left is a computer-generated image of a large, clearly fake pole over the space where Ned would be.]

Now normally the bakers are split into two pairs and work at side-by-side work stations where they riff off of one another while baking.

[ID: Screenshot of Eugene and Zach in the kitchen baking at separate tables that are arranged side-by-side.]

So at some points in the video, Keith (who is the baker paired with Ned in this episode) is in footage where the Ned half of the screen is replaced with footage of an unused workstation, as below:

But my favorite parts of the video were the ones where they replaced Ned with something that really acknowledged the elephant in the room:

[ID: Screenshot of the same kitchen set-up from before with two tables next to each other. Keith stands at one, looking at the baker at the other table. Ned has been replaced with a computer-generated image of a pink elephant.]

Whenever Ned is (presumably) speaking, the audio is replaced with a loud elephant trumpet.

They commit to the bit so much that, when the judges announce the results, they don't even show us Ned's Pop-Tart.

[ID: Judge Rosanna Pansino holds up a Pop-Tart. A red-and-white paper box of fresh peanuts has been added to the footage, completely shielding the Pop-Tart from view. The peanut box has a cartoon image of an elephant as part of its design.]

Now, they easily could have cut out the announcement of the results, especially since they cut out all of his baking process.

But Ned comes last.

So they leave that part in. As a treat.

When the judge announces the name of the fourth-place baker, instead of saying "Ned," the audio is replaced with her voice saying "Elephant," and when we cut to Ned's reaction?

[ID: Screenshot of the Try Guys clustered together. Ned has been replaced with the pink elephant, who is screaming in protest while the other three Try Guys shrink away from him. The chyron reads, "4th Place: Elephant."

And then true chaos reigns when we get to the announcement of the winner, and there's honestly so much going on that I'll leave the image ID to explain it.

[ID: Screenshot of the Try Guys clustered together again. This time, Ned has been replaced with the body of a dancing man, while his head has been replaced with a terrifying dough face that Keith made earlier in the episode. Behind Ned is a smaller, full-body image of the pink elephant, standing in profile. Sat on the elephant's back is a cut out of the impersonation of Zach from the SNL skit that mocked the Try Guys' infamous What Happened video. Also on the back of the elephant are an image of a bent-over old man and a man in a suit holding a red cloak. I'm either not online enough or not versed in Try Guys' lore enough to understand their significance. The chyron reads, "Winner: Daddy's Favorite," in reference to Keith's victory.]

The whole video is truly, beautifully unhinged and I'm absolutely living for it. I've been wondering how they were going to handle WAR, because it's my favorite series and I knew editing around Ned was going to be a challenge.

Ned was always competitive, particularly on WAR, and I'm absolutely delighted that it turned into 40 minutes of everyone at 2nd Try taking the piss out of him... only for him to come in last place.

#you can tell how much work i'm avoiding by how long this post is #try guys videos were a real source of relaxation and comfort for me in the first couple years of my phd #and i'm so glad they're chaotically thriving after all the bullshit #try guys #without a recipe #long post

530 notes · View notes

specklesinthevoid · 2 years ago

Text

To the Silent Screams and Wildest Dreams (Bedelia x OC) part 1

So I have had the craziest idea and so I have been writing it. So here's a sneak peak to the very first chapter. Hope yall like it.

“I'm on my guard for the rest of the world

But with you I know its no good

And I could wait patiently

But I really wish you would”

~Taylor Swift

Evelynn VanDein never understood why blushing was seen as attractive. The normal light pink that seemed to be painted on by feather-light brushes was never her blush; as far as she was concerned, that kind of blush was a fictitious lie told by Hollywood to the mass public. No, her blushes were an irritant, and her cheeks were not their only victim. No, red splotches outlined continents on her neck, and even beneath her attire, she would never dare to acknowledge the sharp electricity that coursed seemingly from her feet to the tip of her nose.

Indeed blushing for Evelynn was an experience she didn’t enjoy, and she definitely didn’t appreciate it when other people coaxed it out of her with feathered whispers that were meant to be left unsaid.

This time, her blotchy cheeks could be blamed on the woman from across the bar, the woman who was nursing a glass of red wine in one hand and smiling at her for no good reason except that Evelynn existed in her presence. One second of eye contact had turned into an unspoken challenge, the silence between them holding more meaning than words that would be later whispered in each other’s presence while bedsheets tangled beneath their bare bodies full of lust and prickled skin.

Evelynn, however, could deal with the silence. When the woman’s lips curved in acknowledgment and she raised the glass to her lips, the electricity began in Evelynn’s feet. The eye contact might lead to conversation, which might lead to skin, which might lead to emotion, which might lead to love.

Evelynn hadn’t given romance a second thought in years. She would even like to believe that her brain had marked it as incongruent with her lifestyle. Romance, in Evelynn’s experience, was complicated, painful, and you could get most of the same chemicals from eating a bar of chocolate. And after one too many heartbreaks, she found herself pretending to ignore the wishful thinking her helpless romantic heart sometimes sent her way. Like what it was doing right now, with the woman across the bar.

Sitting at a bar alone on one’s 34th birthday is enough to make anyone debate these logical decisions Evelynn soon declared to herself. It was merely a temptation, a body, a woman. A woman with a beautiful face and long fingers that seemed to be delicate yet dangerous simultaneously while she lifted her glass to her lips once again. Evelynn blinked back errant thoughts of what those lips could feel like pressed to skin instead of glass. She had never been one for casual hookups, a self-proclaimed serial monogamous, Evelynn formed attachments quickly and passionately (although if cornered she would never admit to such).

But social anxiety won over and Evelynn remained in her seat, ignoring her Freudian Id. Ignoring the temptation; instead opting to ask for a glass of water from the bartender and she gazed quietly at her phone, responding to birthday messages and breaking her own work-life boundaries by checking her email countless times.

She could still feel the woman’s glimpses though.

The alcohol had probably gotten to her head again. She had averted her gaze while her brain debated every millisecond of eye contact she and the stranger had. It was almost as if this woman were daring her to make the first move. This revelation caused Evelynn to chuckle to herself. Yeah right.

Evelynn’s racing heart only doubled tempo as she saw the woman gesturing for her tab and paying the bartender. Whether their eyes met again was up to the universe, but when Evelynn looked back to her drink she felt her insides twisting with incorrigible anxiety. How pathetic.

When she dared to raise her gaze once again, the woman was indeed gone, the stool left vacant. Evelynn soon after decided to forgo her losses and stood as well, quickly paying her bill and leaving the bar to hail a taxi back to her apartment. Hoping to god the woman wasn’t standing outside, she stepped into the brisk night air and took a breath when her golden waves were not immediately spotted.

Raising a single hand beside the street, Evelynn began to shift through her night’s thoughts, of those she was willing to keep and those she would forgo. A voice brought her out of her thoughts: a stranger. Evelynn quickly turned to see the woman speaking on the phone, eyes focused on the street and not on Evelynn herself.

Her voice was distinct, recognizable, and had an air of vacancy that can only be acquired through years of stress. Evelynn presumed herself to have the same air in her voice, albeit from different sources. The ever listener in her kept an ear open to forthcoming conversation, creepy though it may seem to the average onlooker. She still had time to call a taxi.

The bit of conversation was dull, but the voice still pried at her mind. The longer Evelynn listened, the more recognizable it became. It sounded as if she had heard her before, in one of her classes.

Class.

The voice finally clicked for Evelynn, and she quickly recognized the woman as Doctor Du Maurier, one of the many presenters at the last conference Evelynn and a few of her students had attended with the rest of the psychology department in winter. Dr. Du Maurier had given a presentation over the minds of psychopaths she had gained from research she had completed as an assist to the FBI. It was one of the lectures Evelynn had wanted to hear as a forensic neuropsychologist but only a few of her students could stomach the details the doctor went into. The presentation had held Evelynn’s attention more than she had predicted, but not from interest, but from the doctor's presentation of it. It was too clean, obviously, most of the speakers at conferences were, but something about Du Maurier’s story seemed almost edited. Not made up, no, there were too many facts, but something had been glossed over.

None of her students had mentioned anything, so Evelynn had tucked the presentation into her memory as merely intriguing. But Evelynn had no longing to debate traumatic events on a mere hunch, so it was merely a shock to see the doctor in Cleveland after visiting D.C. months prior.

Interesting indeed.

Evelynn didn’t even notice the woman hanging up her phone, depositing it into her bag, and stepping closer to the street, also hailing a taxi.

The war began again in Evelynn’s brain, no longer was she an attractive and mysterious woman, but now she was a doctor, a fellow intellectual who could keep a conversation. That much had been obvious from her presentation. Along with being deemed as an incomplete story, Dr. Du Maurier had also seemed like a person Evelynn would genuinely get along with even in a setting outside of a classroom or conference.

In the end, it was the weather that caused what happened next. As the sky opened up and began to pelt Cleveland’s streets, a singular taxi arrived in front of Evelynn. Whether it was from curiosity or the alcohol, Evelynn made a split-minute decision by offering to share the taxi with the doctor.

Du Maurier looked startled but quickly rushed into the cab, and Evelynn slid in behind her.

The driver asked for a location and Evelynn quickly looked to Du Maurier to see if she would speak first. She quickly spoke the address of a hotel in the city. The driver nodded and began driving. The two women made eye contact once more.

“Thank you,” the doctor said, “it would have been a painfully wet wait for another cab.”

“Of course,” Evelynn replied, a smile pulling at her lips, “the least I can do.” She willed for the electric feeling in her feet to stay.

“Bedelia.” She offers her hand.

“Evelynn.” Taking the hand, she refrained from mentioning that she had heard her present. Evelynn was not inept at what subjects to bring up during long taxi rides.

Oddly enough, the conversation did not stop there. Bedelia conversed politely for the next few minutes until Evelynn could honestly say that the woman had her forgetting they were in a taxi. The conversation soon developed into similar fascinations shared between them, and Evelynn found herself smiling more than she had in a long time. Their conversation of mundane soon transitioned to one of mystery and murder, and Evelynn soon found herself bringing up one of the case studies she had worked on years prior.

“And so there we were, in an abandoned classroom at like 2AM trying to finish this case study, when Beverly goes right up to the chalkboard in the classroom and does this elaborate web of ideas that eventually states that the Zodiac Killer was actually this really old politician who lived in the UK.” Bedelia’s eyes were bright with laughter as Evelynn explained how both of their young college brains had been muddled with conspiracy theories that made sense if you were tired enough.

“And did you actually turn it in?” Bedelia asked, leaning forward more, eyes gliding briefly to Evelynn’s lips. A smile grazed her face as she raised her eyes to peer back at Evelynn as if to make her feel as if she were the only truly important thing in the whole world.

“Of course we turned it in. Best B+ I ever received. It's why I give credit to the creatives in my classes now, especially if they are in an intro class.” Evelynn shook her head and smiled at the ceiling of the cab. “Everyone on campus knows if you get me to laugh, you’ll pass my class. Granted that's hard shit to do since I teach the forensic psychology courses that tend to lean more on the gruesome side of psychology.”

“You seem like a very interesting individual, Dr. Evelynn VanDein.” Bedelia’s voice on its own was inebriating, but coupled with her mirthful eyes and her right leg that was grazing Evelynn’s own, it was almost as if Evelynn was completely enamored with the doctor.

Eventually, the taxi pulled over and their trip had come to a stop. Stories that were earlier flowing out of each woman now grew dry as Evelynn held her breath of what was to come next. After paying the taxi driver for the trip, Bedelia held out her hand in a question, “join me?”

Evelynn did.

#bedeliaxoc #bedelia du maurier #fanfiction #season 2 hannibal #meet cute #fluff #fanfic #original character #cleveland #nbc hannibal

21 notes · View notes

lightsovermonaco · 3 years ago

Text

His Good Sweater: Chapter 18

Masterlist

Thanks to @acollectionofficsandshit for being my bestie and beta reading! This would have never happened without her ❤ Make sure you read Roman Profile, set in the same universe!

Word Count: 7.6k

Abu Dhabi holds a special place in Pierre's heart. The food is great, the views are spectacular, and there is always plenty to do to keep him busy. Night races are some of the more exciting races too and Pierre appreciated the variety.

Coming into the final race of the season, Pierre holds on to seventh in the championship by a few points. Perez sensed the usurper creeping up on his seat and had cranked it up to eleven.

Exams had kept you in London for the race in Brazil, where Pierre had finished sixth and Checo DNF'd. You had managed to fly out for the weekend in Saudi Arabia, where Perez had finished fifth and closed the gap to Pierre to only four points behind.

If Pierre didn't finish ahead of Perez this weekend, he was fucked. And he was at the distinct disadvantage of his good luck charm being absent, stuck in London finishing up your final few exams of the semester. Two weeks without seeing you coupled with barely hearing from you had worn on him. It wasn't purposeful on your part but Pierre's stress was already compressed like the suspension on his car. Stray an inch too far over the racing line, hit a curb too hard and it was liable to snap, sending bits and pieces flying.

Pierre checks his phone for the millionth time as he waits to check in to the hotel. Wednesday was late for this many crew members to be arriving. His main concern though was that you hadn't responded to the text he'd sent you upon landing.

"Look lively, will you?" Max claps Pierre on the shoulder and he slides his phone into his pocket. "It's the last race of the season. We get to go balls to the wall and leave it all out in the track. And here you are looking like a kicked puppy."

"Easy for you to say," Pierre starts, grinning at his friend. "You clinched the title weeks ago. You don't even have to race this weekend if you don't want to and you'd still win."

"Doesn't mean I won't be shooting for a podium."

Pierre rolls his eyes. "Yeah well we can't all be so lucky, can we?"

"Next year you'll be playing with the big dogs." Max hands the receptionist his ID, says a few words and turns back to Pierre. "Looking forward to having you as a teammate again. It was fun for those couple races and I'm sure you'll be a challenge now that you've found your groove."

"You're gonna jinx it if you keep talking." Pierre laughs, praying that it covers up the old wound Max's statement picked open. Pierre hated the idea of moving back to Red Bull but he didn't have much choice. He was still contracted to one of four Red Bull branded seats for next season. A promotion, at the very least, would help him showcase his talent and further cement his value. If he had to spend any longer than that with the team, ripping out his hair was a real possibility.

"Wasn't someone supposed to be with you this weekend?" Max quirks a brow. "Where is she?"

"In London." Max bringing you up doesn't help the pit forming in Pierre's stomach. Win or lose, seventh or eighth, Red Bull or Alpha Tauri, come Sunday Pierre wanted you at his side. Interview requests were bound to roll in either way and Pierre would need someone to ground him, a task much easier to accomplish if you were physically at his side.

"Too bad." Max clicks his tongue and takes his room keys from the receptionist. "It's gonna be a fun weekend."

"I don't think-"

Pierre's vision goes dark at the same time someone whispers, "Guess who?"

Pierre sucks in a breath, spins on his heel and wraps you in a hug in one smooth motion. You laugh as he lifts you off your feet and presses kisses to your cheeks.

"What are you doing here?" He grabs both suitcases and tugs you aside. His room can wait.

"Tost asked me to come." Your grin is contagious, its twin appearing on Pierre's own cheeks. "He said that since you were flying out from Milan on your own there was an extra seat on the jet, so if I got myself to Nice I could fly out with the Red Bull boys."

"Seven hours trapped in a tin can with Max, Yuki and Checo?" Pierre rubs his chest. "I've got heartburn just thinking about that."

"It wasn't so bad," you say, finally giving him a proper kiss. "Yuki and I just played games on our phones the whole time. And I beat Max at Scrabble."

"How many Dutch words did he try to use?"

"Mmm, about half the words he tried were definitely not English."

"Yep, sounds about right." Pierre throws an arm around your shoulders and leads you back to the reception desk. He pays for an upgraded room when you aren't looking- though when you're assigned a suite there's not much higher you can go- and slips the woman behind the counter an extra bill for good measure.

"I could use a nap," you note, leaning against Pierre like you'd otherwise fall over. "I didn't get much sleep last night."

Pierre checks his watch. "We've got time for a nap."

"We?" Your raised eyebrow is question enough. Pierre smiles and swipes his key card once you're in the elevator with him. He hadn't looked at the price of the room but he was positive it was more than he'd spent on a single night in his entire career, considering it occupies an entire floor of the swanky hotel.

"It's date night," Pierre says simply. Initially his plan had been to invite Charles over for a game of Fifa but the Monegasque wouldn’t fault him for cancelling at the last minute. "We're in one of the most luxurious cities in the world and I'm going to show you off every chance I get. The restaurant down stairs is to die for."

Your attempt at nodding along with what he says is thwarted by a yawn. "Sleep first, eat later." Seeing as it was impossible to deny you, Pierre simply drops a kiss to the crown of your head.

"Wait until you see our room." The way your eyes light up when he says our room makes him want to say it again and again just to see you sparkle.

"I know you upgraded it, Mr. I-think-I'm-sneaky." You uncurl yourself from against his arm when the elevator chimes. "How much did it cost?"

"A few extra pennies."

The stainless steel doors open directly into the suite. The living space is dominated by a curving crescent of full length windows overlooking the cerulean harbor and the jagged steel of the city skyline beyond. Suitcase forgotten, your jaw drags along the floor as you toe off your shoes in favor of sinking onto one of the half moon couches situated around a low coffee table.

"Did you get some sort of bonus you didn't tell me about?" Pierre sees your inner engineer cataloging the chandelier dripping crystals over the carved dining table and the pattern of the black veined marble flooring. "This cost more than a few pennies."

"I didn't really look at the price so it's possible," he admits. In the end it was worth it to see you like this, happy as a pig in mud. Pierre was in his element at the track you were in yours in beautiful buildings. For all Pierre cared you could be sharing a dingy room at a motel; it would still be five star worthy with you there.

Every once in a while though, you deserve a bit of pampering for all you put up with. Late nights and months apart wasn’t easy on either of you, but you stuck by him. And when the day comes that Pierre retires or loses his seat, you would be the one there to comfort him. Spending frivolous amounts of money to see you smile was nothing in the grand scheme of things.

In Pierre’s world, money is temporary, you are forever.

"Well I have half a mind to tear into you for spending so much on a room we won't spend all that much time in," you start, your star-speckled gaze landing on Pierre, "the view is too pretty to be upset about."

"Mine isn't half bad either." You laugh, tucking an errant hair behind your ear. You both know he isn’t referring to the glittering bay or the expensive furnishings.

"Up," Pierre demands softly, holding out his hand. Your hand is warm and dwarfed by his long fingers but you barely seem to notice. The heart in his chest pounds for no discernable reason as he leads you down the narrow hall past doors leading to what he can only assume are bedrooms and bathrooms, to the one at the end of the hall. Based on his mental floor plan this one has the best view, if he's guessed correctly.

Your breezy oh confirms his hunch. You stutter at the threshold, coming up short behind him to bathe in the beauty of the sea, dotted through with white sails. Sunlight twinkles off the waves and if he breathes deep enough, he can almost smell the salt.

"Come on," Pierre says with a chuckle, urging you to fall into the fluffy down of the bed with him. You follow reluctantly, too enamored by the sights to pay any real attention to how Pierre arranges your limbs to his liking, your head resting on his chest and your joined hands laying atop his stomach.

"How about that nap?" He murmurs, running the fingers of his free hand through your unbound hair.

You sigh and snuggle in closer. It was rare that Pierre had the opportunity to steal moments like this during a race week, when he had nothing better to do than tangle himself in you.

"I'll tell you a story."

Just as he expected, you leap at the offer. "Can you tell me the one about the time you and Charles got in trouble when you were karting?"

Normally he opts for something fictional that allows him to embellish the details to fit his narrative. Pierre loved spinning tales rife with laughter and intrigue but he also didn't mind indulging your curiosity.

"Yeah, I can tell that one. Let me set the scene. It's midnight on a Friday at a little track outside Rouen. Two gangly teenage boys, one French and one definitely, positively not French, have nothing better to do than get themselves in trouble…"

**********

Fans began whispering when Pierre set foot in the lobby. The price of stardom was high and had taken years to get used to. Some days the bombardment of people asking for photos and autographs overwhelmed him to the point he was desperate for an out. Most people respected his boundaries and when they sensed it was too much, they backed off. Other days it was simply too much and he would mumble excuses and book it out the door.

The pressure increases tenfold when he steps into the lobby with you on his arm, the pair of you dressed to the nines. He clocks a group of women- clearly tourists based on their body language- perched on a sofa the minute their low murmurs turn into excited squeals.

Pierre mentally braces for you to stiffen or stop altogether but you do neither. You carry on unaffected, either ignoring them or completely oblivious to the women who do nothing to hide their pointed stares.

"Table for two please." You smile at the restaurant host and then at Pierre. You must not have noticed the fans then. You were getting better at coping with the photos and whispers, although your smile usually became forced the longer it dragged on, the polar opposite of you currently beaming at him.

Pierre's shoulders sag a bit when you're led to a secluded table towards the rear of the dining space. Privacy wasn't a luxury he was often afforded. With his back to a wall of windows, there were fewer angles for people to approach from which was a small comfort.

Apparently you find sitting across from Pierre unacceptable because you shuffle your chair to his side of the table before plopping down in it. Pierre shoots you a questioning look but keeps his mouth shut. Inquiring after your motives didn't tend to end well for him.

Instead he leans over to kiss your cheek, relishing the blush his lips coax to the surface.

“It all sounds good,” you say, scanning the menu. “You’ve been here before, I take it?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah I have. It’s all wonderful.”

The fans from the lobby remain in the blurred fringes of his vision. Pierre does his best to focus on the waitress explaining the specials. He tunes in automatically to the fan’s heavily accented English as they argue with the host, vying for a table as close to Pierre as possible.

Their phones remain out as an annoyed waiter tries and fails to coax the gaggle of girls into ordering something. Pierre drags a hand through his hair.

Being the center of attention usually doesn't bother him. Coping with the spotlight and the scrutiny that accompanies it is second nature; if the press conferences at Spa in 2019 had taught him anything, it was the importance of a solid poker face. Fame is new to you though and interactions with polite fans make you nervous. Having your picture taken without permission and splashed on social media? Forget about it. Pierre didn't care to find out how you'd react.

"Don't be nervous." You lay a hand on Pierre's thigh. The touch is enough to temporarily pause his bouncing leg. "You're going to do amazing this weekend. All you have to do is finish in front of Checo and you're golden."

How you haven't noticed the girls giggling mere yards away is beyond him. The last thing he wants to do is ruin this perfect, beautiful moment of bliss. You look gorgeous with your painted lips and that sinful black dress that he doubts can be comfortable based on how it hugs your curves like water. To top it off, the pride in your gaze is something to behold, making it impossible to doubt himself when you so clearly and openly believe he can conquer the world.

But it's better to tell you now versus you finding out on social media later. "That's not what's bothering me."

"Oh?" You sit straighter and set the menu down. "What is it then? Because if it's Horner, I have no problem marching in there and chewing him out. Birdy will back me up."

Despite himself, Pierre can't hold back his smile. "Where did all this confidence come from, hmm?"

"I'm learning," you insist, nodding your head firmly. "I'm growing as a person and you should be proud."

"I never said I wasn't." Maybe you'd spent the last month at university interacting with racing fans on campus. Perhaps being exposed to endless questions in a setting you controlled was the key. "Did you take a course in confidence at university?"

You scrunch up your nose and laugh in the most adorable way. Pierre's heart lurches at the sight, regardless if it was him you were laughing at.

"No, but I did make a few new friends that have a habit of pestering me about you." You jab a finger in his side for good measure. "It helped, I think. I don't look for cameras as much anymore. You're my focus now, not paps that may or may not be lurking in bushes."

"I knew it." Pierre is slightly impressed that he'd hit the nail squarely on the head. "I figured there had to be someone at uni responsible for helping you out."

You shrug and purse your lips. "I guess we'll have to see how I handle this weekend. I mean, there's bound to be press trying to corner me, what with the stakes and all. But I think I can take them." You raise your fists in front of your face and Pierre has to laugh.

“Throw a punch like that and you’ll break a finger.” He takes one of your clenched fists in his and untucks your thumb from under your fingers. “That’s how you make a proper fist. And you hit with these knuckles here- make sure you distribute the blow across all four, or you’ll be hurting.”

“Regardless,” you say, jabbing the air a few times, “The shock factor of having little old me in their face ought to be enough to earn me an advantage.”

Pierre finishes the lap to circle back to the topic at hand. "How about we test your confidence?”

"Okay," you say, dragging out the 'a' until it hangs in the air between you like a spider's web.

Pierre rakes a hand through his hair and nods to the girls a few tables away. "They've been taking pictures since we sat down. I'm sure they'll be all over Instagram in an hour, if they aren't already."

You steal a glance at the table in question under the guise of grabbing something from your purse. You hum, contemplating how to go about responding. Pierre is almost certain you'll ask to head back upstairs where it's just the two of you, no cameras or outside influence to ruin your night. His wallet is already out under the table, ready to leave a hefty tip for putting up with your drink-and-dash.

“We aren’t doing anything interesting,” you point out, swirling the knuckle’s worth of whiskey in your glass. “Why do they feel the need to document every passing second?”

Pierre lifts a shoulder in a shrug. “It’s just what some people do. If you’re uncomfortable we can go.”

“Who said anything about leaving?” You scoff, the corners of your lips turned up in a teasing smile. “I figure the best course of action is to give them something worth photographing.”

“What do you-”

Pierre’s yelp is decidedly unsexy when you yank him forward by his tie and attach your lips to his. Caught entirely off guard, he flounders for a moment before he catches himself and sinks into you. One hand on your cheek and the other creeping up your thigh, Pierre slides his tongue over the seam of your lips. You don't hesitate to obey the silent command.

He should be embarrassed. He should be contemplating the consequences of this kiss being splashed across tabloids the world over. He can’t bring himself to care, not when you’re the only release he needs and something as simple as a kiss sets his skin alight and causes any sane thoughts to trickle from his head.

Nothing matters. You're kissing him and your hand is a few inches below his hip on his right thigh, burning a brand that he prays leaves a puckered pink scar. Your scent and your mouth and your unmistakable hiss of pleasure saps the worry from his limbs. He's floating up off his chair, lungs filling with helium as you steal every last molecule of oxygen from the room.

Just like that, Pierre is the one that's roaring to leave for an entirely different reason.

Your hand on his jaw keeps your lips a hair's breadth apart as you whisper, "Are they staring?"

A blissed out nod is all he manages. Thoughts evade him and speaking is utterly out of the question when your lips are within striking distance. He surges forward for another kiss, heavier on teeth than on tongue. He makes sure to hold your lower lip between his teeth longer than necessary, putting on a show now that you've given him permission.

"Pierre," you murmur, using the hand splayed on his chest to push him away. The whine that escapes him is wholly unintentional. Thankfully it's low enough that only you hear, pressing a finger to your sinful lips.

"Down, boy." You extricate his hand from the dimpled flesh of your hip and place it chastely in his own lap. "We've accomplished what I wanted to."

Saying you tossing a wink over your shoulder at the intrusive fans isn't the hottest thing he's ever seen would be a lie. Pierre needed to be sure to thank Daniel's girlfriend the next time he saw her for whatever the hell she said to finally bestow you with a healthy serving of self-assurance because this new you is an entirely different entity, one Pierre intends to explore at the next opportunity.

"Problem solved." You brush your hands together and Pierre half expects to see dust clouds in the air like you'd just finished a woodshop project.

Pierre's brain is operating on a ten second delay. So really, normal operating procedure when he was in your vicinity. "I don't think we've accomplished everything I'd like to get done."

"We have a dinner to finish first." You pick up your menu and resume browsing like you hadn't just forcibly ripped his appetite for anything other than you right out of him. "The salmon sounds good, don't you think?"

"You sound good," Pierre mumbles under his breath and picks up his own menu. God, he'd love to let his fingers drift to the apex of your thighs. You’re always cute when you squirm. It was so simple to do too, all you needed was a brush of his knuckle to your center and you'd be gasping.

"Are you ready to order?"

The soft-spoken waitress bursts Pierre's bubble. She brings fresh drinks and jots down an order of two salmon fillets and leaves with a smile.

How Pierre has managed to make it this long without fucking you is beyond him. From the moment you surprised him in the lobby, his limbs have been thrumming with energy. And now your surprise kiss had been the pebble that preceded an avalanche of feverish longing. Those red painted lips would look better wrapped around his-

The pointed toe of your shoe digs into his calf. "Quit staring."

"Either you let me daydream or you let me take you upstairs,” Pierre quips back, licking his lips before he can catch himself.

"Can we get through one date without you mentally undressing me?"

Pierre dips his grin in a vat of lust, his words dripping with waxy promise. "No. Not when I know that as soon as we're alone, you'll let me do what I want."

"And what about what I want?" Your pouted lip does absolutely nothing but push his mind further in the gutter.

"Your wish is my command." His hand floats under the hem of your dress to graze along your core. And there it is, that sound he would swim across oceans to hear, your chastizing gasp of surprise.

The cross way you whisper his name is a thing of dreams. No one else's name sounded like that on your tongue, that honor is reserved solely for Pierre. The two breathless syllables are more exhilarating than standing on the top step. The rush of adrenaline that accompanies them is ten times what he is rewarded with when passing a world champion on track. He'll give it all up to hear you repeat it when you're pissed or lonely or tired- he just wants your voice echoing in his ears like a broken record.

You move his hand a safe distance down your thigh, nearly at your knee. Pierre gives your leg a sharp squeeze. "Can we please get our dinner to go?"

"Not tonight. You can wait, mon amour."

The French rolls off your tongue awkwardly but Pierre will be the last to complain. Your encyclopedic knowledge of which buttons to press when had come back to bite him in the ass.

"That's not fair." His pout is a mirror image of the one you turned on him earlier. "You can't use my own language against me."

You pat your pockets as if searching for something and shrug when you come up empty. "I don't see a rulebook anywhere."

Reminding you what happens when you tease him shoots to the top of his to do list. "I'll play if you wanna play, ma chérie. Don't bite off more than you can chew."

"I think you're forgetting who usually wins off track."

Pierre can't help it. He takes advantage of his superior reflexes and surges forward to claim another searing kiss. You did normally win and it wasn't for lack of trying on his end. No matter the tactic he employed, you generally got the better of him. Not that he minded.

"Why don't you come here?" He purposely grazes his lips to your ear as he speaks and grins when a shiver runs down your spine.

"Because we are in public," you hiss back, though the way your head tips to the side betrays you. Pierre's nose touches the underside of your jaw and you struggle to find your breath.

"We should eat." A self satisfied smile splits his face when he notices your heaving chest and wild eyes.

"When did our food get here?" Pierre did that. He got you so worked up that you blocked out your surroundings so thoroughly that you hadn't heard the clink of plates. Pierre wears that fact like a badge of honor.

"A minute or so ago. Remind me again who's winning?"

"We may be even," you relent, adjusting the skirt of your dress. Yeah, even isn't the word he would pick, considering how flustered you are. It's a good thing Pierre has learned to eat with one hand because he doesn't plan on moving the arm currently slung over the back of your chair anytime soon. His finger traces the letters of his name on the bare skin of your shoulder. Whether you realize what he's writing or not you lean into him as you eat, falling in closer with each lemon-scented bite.

"Excuse me?"

You don't bother to look up but Pierre does. Disappointment washes over him when he is met by one of the fans, apparently deeming now to be the appropriate time to approach him, while clearly on a date, in the middle of a meal.

"I'll be happy to take a photo once I'm done." Sometimes passive aggressiveness works best with people like this, who have no regard for personal space. "Right now I would prefer to be alone, thanks."

"Oh, right." The blonde giggles, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "You two make a… cute couple?" The end of her sentence turns up and your fork falls to your plate.

Pierre tucks you a little closer to his side, both possessive and reassuring. "We know."

Your discomfort is plain, the way you curl in on yourself making his heart hurt. But you surprise him by taking a deep breath and turning to the woman with a smile.

"If you'd let us finish our meal, I would appreciate it. We can stop by on our way out and chat with you." Sylvie would be proud of that answer. Diplomatically phrased and said with a smile that negates any negative connotations.

"Of course." The blonde's smile is sickly sweet. To Pierre she adds, "Good luck on Sunday."

Pierre nods. The woman's rude behavior didn't warrant a verbal response. She mumbles a feeble goodbye before slinking back to her friends. If nothing else at least their whispers died down, put out by his behavior.

Pierre loves his fans. Without them he wouldn't have a sport to compete in, and of course he appreciated their endless support. Stopping for photos or autographs had gotten him in trouble with Marko multiple times for being late to meetings that usually turned out to be pointless anyway. As a whole, their enthusiasm gives him an extra boost on Sundays and lifts his spirits after a bad weekend.

And then sometimes there were people like the blonde woman that had interrupted his dinner. Those people he has far less tolerance for. Basic manners were imperative to Pierre giving someone the light of day, otherwise he saw no need to waste time and energy on them.

"All good, ma chérie?" Pierre rubs your shoulder, hoping it'll stave off any anxiety.

"I'm good," you confirm with a nod of your head. "Let's finish up and go to our room."

Pierre presses a kiss to your temple and scarfs down the remainder of his meal in record time. He flags down the waitress and hands her his card, leaving a substantial tip when she returns with the check.

“Can you distract that table?” Pierre asks, aware of how unusual the request likely is. “I’d like to get out of here without making a scene.”

“Of course,” the waitress says with a warm, sincere smile. Pierre waits until she loudly announces, “Excuse me? Your card has been declined, do you have another method of payment?”

Neither of you can contain your laughter as you stumble through the lobby. In the sanctity of the elevator, Pierre wraps his arms around your middle and molds himself against you. "You look especially gorgeous tonight."

"You're not too bad yourself." One of your hands finds the nape of his neck, guiding his face to the crook of your shoulder. Pierre takes the invitation at face value and nips at the sensitive skin. Your hum goes straight to his cock, twitching against the swell of your ass.

"I win," you purr, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging.

For once Pierre is glad to be in the world's slowest elevator. Since he's already lost, he might as well lose in style. He spins you to face the mirrored wall. And because he knows it'll make you tremble, he trails his hand lazily over your throat to grip your jaw.

A low moan leaves your parted lips. Pierre studies your reflection, from your hands gripping the railing to the skin dimpling beneath his fingers.

"Fine, you win this time. But I think you and I both know, I'll come out ahead in the end."

**********

Waking up to soft kisses will never get old. Thirty years from now when Pierre was retired and you fell asleep each night with his arms around you, you'd still yearn for the brush of his lips to your cheeks, neck, and shoulders to rouse you from the violet shores of sleep.

"Good morning," you mumble, a sentiment which Pierre echoes with his gruff, sleep tinged voice. "Sleep well?"

"Best sleep I've ever gotten. You tired me out last night." You both grin at the reminder. Fueled by a slight tinge of jealousy after the women at the restaurant made eyes at him, you had refused to let him tumble into bed until well past midnight, when you both were well and truly exhausted. Thursday is press day, nothing strenuous that he couldn't afford to be a little sore for.

Pierre rolls to straddle your hips, lips capturing yours for a proper kiss. The taste of freshly brushed mint makes your skin tingle when he tugs your lip between his teeth.

"It's too early for that." You throw your arms around his neck and urge him to bend his elbows until he falls atop you. It takes him a moment to snuggle in, his head on your chest and his arms sliding under your middle.

You're convinced that ten minutes in this position can cure any ailments, physical or mental. The weight of your soulmate pressing into you, forcing you to focus on breathing instead of whatever might be bothering you. It's easy to forget about the outside world when everything you require to be happy is wrapped around you like a blanket.

You stroke a hand over Pierre's hair until his breathing evens out, only rousing him when the sun peeks over the harbor. Amiable silence fills the space as hues of orange and pink paint Pierre in swaths of color. Suddenly you're seeing him for the first time, completely enamored by the angles of his cheekbones and the sharp cut of his stubbled jaw. The golden hour of dawn shines on it's golden boy, his lashes brushing his cheeks as he turns towards the warmth calling him home.

"Pyry and I are going for a run soon if you'd like to come with us."

You cringe. Running used to be fun when you were in school, but seeing as you hadn't properly trained in years you doubted you could keep up with a pair of professionals. "How about you text me when you're back and I'll come to the gym with you? It looks fancy, if George's snaps are anything to go by."

Pierre trails kisses up your sternum, over your neck and only speaks once he's reached your lips. "Looking at other men, are you?"

"Shut up," you laugh, shoving him off you. "I'll have you know it was a rare shirt on picture, thank you very much. I don't need to see George shirtless ever again."

A satisfied, "Good," rumbles from Pierre's chest and he stands to stretch the lingering sleep from his limbs. Clad in nothing but a pair of white four inch inseam shorts and with his back to you, you grin as an idea forms. You scramble forward before he can process you moving and smack his ass so hard he yelps.

"Gotcha!" You devolve into a fit of giggles as he rubs the spot you hit, whining about you taking advantage of his distraction.

"You like it," you tease, and Pierre remains strictly pouty for two whole seconds before he breaks into a grin and nods. "Now put on a shirt and get downstairs before Pyry calls you and you get reamed for being late again."

Pierre leans down for one last kiss before rushing off to the lobby. Waking up before the sun leaves you plenty of time to laze about if you choose to. Kicking your butt into gear seems like the better option so you drag yourself out of the relative warmth of the sheets and shuffle to the kitchen in search of coffee.

Apparently the suite came fully stocked with a handful of different freshly ground blends, and much to your delight you recognize one of your favorites. You scroll through the room service menu on your phone while it brews. Without a doubt Pyry would rope you in to whatever workout he had planned for Pierre, albeit giving you a watered down version of what he gave the driver. Regardless, it would still be grueling and you needed to fuel up.

A hearty breakfast of fresh fruit and cinnamon sugar oatmeal shows up at your door ten minutes later. You're just finishing up when Pierre's snapchat comes through and you nearly choke.

Come on down baby

The sweaty, shirtless selfie that accompanies the caption is wholly unnecessary. Pierre's stupid tongue sticks out and the fingers of one hand are tangled in his hair. The muscle of his bicep is perfectly flexed, an obvious but appreciated attempt to rile you up. You shamelessly screenshot the photo before it disappears to save it for later.

You change into a simple set of leggings and a loose t-shirt and head to the elevator, curating your music queue on the way down.

The outdoor gym overlooks a pool of the same crystalline blue as the sea not far beyond. A few Alpha Tauri and Red Bull team members you recognize occupy a handful of machines. You wave at the ones you recognize, including Alana- she was a sight for sore eyes. You make a mental note to catch up with her at some point today, as you're sure to cross paths again.

Pyry spots you before Pierre does and waves you over. "Start stretching," the fin orders, "I'm glad you dressed for the occasion this time."

"I've learned my lesson." You plop down next to Pierre and lean into a stretch to stage whisper, "He drives you this hard?"

"Get used to it." Pierre shoots you a grin that sets you on fire. He's got a shirt on now, which means he only took it off earlier to send you that snap. Tease.

Any other time you'd chide him for his behavior but this weekend you let it slide. Tension has been brewing since the moment you spotted him across the lobby; simple things tip you off to the stress winding up in him. If flirting could offer him a small amount of release, then so be it, even if it was torturous for you to see him like this and be unable to do anything about it.

"If you two can't get through this without making heart eyes at each other I'll separate you," Pyry warns, pushing at your shoulders and helping you stretch a few more inches. You hide your wince and laugh, leaning into the slight burn.

"Sorry coach," Pierre chimes in, "I'll keep my hands to myself, don't worry." He accepts Pyry's hand to be pulled to his feet. Bouncing on his toes he throws a few punches at the air and catches your gaze over his trainer's shoulder.

"Definitely not you I'm worried about."

As Pyry says it, you blow Pierre a kiss. You quickly tuck your hands behind your back when Pyry's head whips around. Your cheshire grin gets you off the hook and Pyry just points to the stationary bike in silent command. At least he was going easy on you.

Headphones pumping a Pierre curated playlist, you lose track of time as you cycle mile after mile. Pierre sparring on the fringes of your vision helps distract you from burning muscles. Sweat soaks his black tee and is absorbed by the waistband of his oddly patterned orange and white shorts. No matter how incessantly you tease him for his fashion choices, he never fails to amaze you for how well he pulls it all off.

Lost in the music and the incredible view, it takes you a moment to realize Pierre's lips aren't just moving silently. You yank out an ear bud and blubber, "What did you say?"

Pierre's breathless laugh is accompanied by a shake of his head. He half curls in on himself, hands on his hips and mouth agape as he tries to catch his breath. The image stirs memories of the last night, when he was panting just like that but with nothing obscuring you from drinking in his godlike muscled body.

"I said," Pierre starts, walking over to kiss your cheek, "I need a shower before press. I'm going upstairs. You can stay here and Pyry can take you through some more-"

"No thanks!" Pyry shrugs off your immediate refusal. Training top tier athletes and training you sat at polar opposite ends of the spectrum and often times the Fin pushed you farther than you thought capable. You'd like to be able to function tomorrow, thank you very much.

The elevator ride to the suite is filled with salted kisses and wet touches. A breadcrumb trail of clothing leads from the stainless steel doors to the glass encased shower. There's not enough time to worship Pierre like you'd wanted to but he sighs when you run a soapy cloth over his body. Your lips follow the suds, leaving light kisses to the tender muscles. By the time you pour shampoo in your palm and lightly scratch at his scalp to work it into a lather, he's practically purring.

Media appearances are a necessary part of being a driver. Pierre usually handled them well enough on his own and occasionally with Sylvie's help when she could be bothered to get off her phone for a few minutes, but having you with him is different. You pride yourself on reading him well enough to know exactly what he needs. Some days, when the press isn't a pack of rabid animals, he returns to his driver's room and needs nothing more than a quick kiss to have him righted. On days when the pack of piranhas descend to feast on the bones of a bad session or the whispering of drama, a delicate touch is required.

If your suspicion proves right, today would be the latter. Being ahead of the frenzy might take the edge off when Pierre got in the thick of it.

When the tap cuts off, you step out and wrap Pierre in a fluffy towel. His smile communicates how grateful he is- and that he knows what you're doing.

You hand him a stack of Alpha Tauri branded clothes and sit on the foot of the bed. "Do you want me to come to the paddock with you?"

Pierre pauses with his shirt half on. "If you don't mind."

"Of course I don't mind." You pluck a few of his rings from the nightstand and hold out your hand. "You have to complete the look."

"What would I do without you," he murmurs, slipping one on his pinky and one on the thumb of his opposite hand.

"Probably be ridiculed for your lack of fashion sense."

**********

As a driver's girlfriend, you had come to grips with being relegated to a background role when it came to team events. You have to ask Sylvie to repeat herself twice before her words sink in.

"Come with me to the media pen," the woman grits out. Apparently Tost intended to have some fun torturing the woman before he fired her at the end of the season. Hopefully whoever Pierre got stuck with next was a bit more personable than Sylvie.

"Pierre told me to wait here," you say, gesturing to the garage buzzing around you. You were a rock and the mechanics were the stream, parting around you without a care in the world. You were barely a blip on their radar, everyone too honed in on their tasks to pay you any mind.

"And now I'm telling you to come with me. The other wives and girlfriends are in attendance and it'll look odd if you're not there too." Clearly, Sylvie didn't like the idea. And any idea that pissed Sylvie off sounded like a good one.

"I know the way," you say and breeze past her. Your feet follow the familiar path to the cluster of reporters crowded around metal gates, keeping the drivers in like caged animals. It was fitting, considering how often people referred to the sport as a traveling circus.

Pierre is already knee deep in an interview with one of the more popular journalists in the bunch, Will Buxton. Careful to stay out of the lens, you lean against the guardrail to listen in. So far it seems to be going well, Pierre's laugh brings a smile to your face.

"So, Pierre." Will shifts on his feet, pausing to create a sense of drama. "Your seat for next year. We know you'll be in Alpha Tauri or at Red Bull. Only a few points separate you from being demoted right back to eighth in the championship, which would officially relegate you to keep your seat at Alpha for the upcoming season. Are you worried about a mechanical problem or an accident stripping you of your chance to prove yourself and leaving you stuck where you are?"

Your stomach sinks. Buxton knew how to phrase a question, you had to give him that. Each word had been carefully chosen to elicit an emotional response from Pierre. You hate seeing him backed into a corner, forced to answer the same questions again and again, helpless to prevent it.

"Well first of all I'd like to stay that I'm not stuck at Alpha." Pierre shifts his weight and you exhale. Buxton's poisoned dart had missed its mark.

"Given a few years of development I know we could have a really competitive car. But it's more so that I'm ready to move up, fight with the leaders now instead of waiting. I'm in my prime and I don't want to let that pass me by.

"So no, I'm not worried about things that are out of my control. My team has given me an amazing car this year and I'm not concerned about mechanical problems. Things out of my control aren't worth my energy. There's nothing I can do about it so I don't even give it thought. I'll focus on my driving and pushing my limit- if an accident happens, I'm just a passenger."

"Well said." Buxton nods and turns away, effectively dismissing Pierre. As soon as he's out of the camera's view he's reaching for you and you meet him halfway. Sylvie trails after you as Pierre leads you through to the Alpha garage.

"Five minutes until your briefing," Alana says the second you enter. "And hey girl. Don't think I've forgotten about that sweater I loaned you. I still want it back!"

Your friend doesn't leave any room for rebuttal before heading for the conference room, presumably to set up whatever presentation she had created. Sylvie had disappeared too, leaving you as the only one for Pierre to focus on.

"You think I can do it?" He asks quietly, playing with your interlaced fingers.

"I don't think." You tilt his chin up so he's looking at you. "I know. And I'll be right here when you cross that line on Sunday and bring home points. You've got this, baby. Don't doubt yourself now."

"Pierre!"

Your grip on his chin prevents him from following the voice, not that he would if he could. You shoot him a raucous grin, "Red Bull colors would look pretty good on me, huh?"

Pierre's smile is brighter than all the stars in the sky. "Anything with my name on it will do.”

@seasidetom @flashcal @limp-wrist-max @sunshinesewis @lifeofzoemichael @ninuffi @perfectfantasies22 @lamboleglerg @ladyperceval @0forgottenparadise0 @evie-pr @avsensio @ninuffi @lu-morningstar @ggaslyp1 @swiftyhowlz @xeniarocks @teenwaywardasgardian @saintandrea-droidsmuggler

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future updates!

#pierre gasly #pierre gasly fanfiction #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 fantasy #formula 1 #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 fic #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 rpf #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 fic #f1 fantasy #f1 imagine #f1 rpf #f1 #reader insert #pierre gasly x reader #his good sweater

109 notes · View notes

catsbiggestfanboy · 3 years ago

Text

Happy Birthday Neku 2022

He’d been back nearly a whole year now. There’d been a lot of ups and downs, new challenges to overcome and lots of appointments to make adjustments to life. It was almost like Neku had forgotten how to live for a little while. Thankfully things were much better and now Neku’s finally getting used to the new normal.

Neku woke up to his 20th birthday like any other day, which felt strange if they were honest. They stayed in bed only briefly to unplug their phone and check notifications. Friends that woke up earlier or were up later than them flooded their phone with birthday wishes. Neku smiled at their phone, responding with thank yous, hearts and confetti emotes.

They pulled themselves out of bed and started their morning routine with a shower and brushing their teeth. Through washing their hair, shower thoughts flooded in and something hit him, causing him to stop momentarily.

They were an adult. Twenty years old.

Sure, Neku technically died twice and spent about three years in the UG, but it was still part of their existence and everyone else... thought things were normal those three years. Other having memories of something that never actually happened to Neku. But that didn’t change that his Soul was still twenty years old.

If they were honest, Neku didn’t think they’d make it this far. For the past quarter of their life, they’d been living day to day just trying to get to the next, telling themselves things would turn around. Things would get better. He needed to live.

And now, here he was. There was a feeling of pride that washed over him. A smile was stuck on their face and likely would be for the rest of the day.

They got out of the shower and started blow drying their hair in front of the mirror. There were many scars they could see on themselves, marks of how hard he fought to get to this moment. Many were fading and others still stuck out like a sore thumb. But the scars didn’t bother Neku anymore. Sometimes they’d admire them with a gentle touch or a questioning look as they recalled what happened to receive certain ones.

For now they were focused on drying their hair. Once it was dry they returned to their room to pick out an outfit. Something comfortable for the day, something very Neku, a pair of black shorts, a purple shirt and a slightly oversized Gatto Nero hoodie. Then it was back to the bathroom to do a little hair styling. It didn’t take long since Neku was practiced at this point, but they wanted to be sure it was perfect for their birthday.

Once everything was said and done, Neku gave one last look in the mirror with a smile before heading out for the day.

It was full of spending time with friends and family, going out to eat and having a few drinks and shots to celebrate the day. He was excited to be able to show off their ID to get drinks and had it at the ready as they walked up to a new bar or stand.

Plenty of gifts came in, Neku feeling awfully appreciative of them. Some of them were overwhelming and others were simple and sweet. Neku really didn’t want much. It was more precious to them to spend time with their friends.

They found a quiet izakaya as it was starting to get to dusk. People were getting out of work and heading home, some shifting into bars. The few close friends that stuck with Neku throughout the day were chatting amongst themselves and Neku was quiet for a little while, listening, thinking. There was a buzz they couldn’t manage to shake but had been on water for some time to make sure they could walk straight to make it home. They looked down and tapped their drink with their nails, watching the water gently ripple.

A wash of solemn came over them as a memory came back. Sitting with a certain friend and getting lunch, they promised they’d share their first drinks together.

Neku’s smiling face went from gentle happiness to pained sorrow as they remembered, continuing tapping their glass until they couldn’t will their hand to move anymore. Tears they didn’t feel coming spilled onto the table and surprised them when they hit their skin. Neku rubbed the tears away from their eyes and took a deep breath in which caught the attention of their friends.

Of course, they all asked if they were okay and Neku looked up, faking a smile for a moment to reassure them and telling them it was fine. Just that they remembered a promise they weren’t able to keep.

They were all Neku’s trusted friends. They knew the story of their friend and what happened. There was a silent understanding among them. One rubbed at his back and told him it was alright. Another ordered one more round of shots and passed them to everyone.

Together, they picked them up and raised a toast for the friend that couldn’t be there that day. Neku joined with a sad but resolved smile and said his peace about his late friend. Even though he wasn’t there he was still in his memory and his heart and raising a drink for them was the least they could do.

It was their final drink for the night and it felt right to wrap it up that way. Neku cheered up over some time and was accompanied home with his friends. The group used the night to eat snacks and watched a couple classic movies at the birthday boy’s request. It was well after midnight when they all started to get tired and Neku allowed them all to stay the night.

They gathered blankets and pillows for their closet. All of them sprawled out across the living room in half drunken states, giggling as the lights went off before they attempted to find sleep.

Neku stared up at the ceiling and he lay on the couch, thinking about all the gifts he received that day. The best gift he had received was life. It was precious to them to get the chance to have friends again and spend time with them. All of that was taken away once and they were glad to have that chance back. It was quiet, but a short prayer and thank you to a lost friend left their lips before they finally turned and drifted off to sleep.

#birthday 2022 #ty I am Crying #I am not proofreading this sorry fam #vince writes

10 notes · View notes

miss-ali-lawliet · 4 years ago

Note

Heyy!! I was wondering if you could do a L x reader where the reader gets killed by Kira because they were involved with L. If you aren’t confortable writing this it’s ok! Thank you~

Hello Anon and thank you for the request!! I'm comfortable with it and even though I'd rather see L being happy, I am a sucker for angst. So hopefully I do this justice!

Also note I have rewritten this way too many times to count 😭 I really tried my best, but I'm so sorry this took so long! Also there was technically two requests asking for the same sort of thing. I’ll get to the next headcanons as soon as I can, but hope whoever is reading this had a great day/night wherever you are!

CW: Death, angst, fluff, kind of long

It was yet another normal day for the genius detective who called himself L. He had spent a majority of the day working with the task force members on the Kira case, mainly in monitoring the cameras inside the task force headquarters as well. It wasn't just the task force and Watari he was working with though, he also had the person he called his partner, in both work and romantically.

Being in a relationship was obviously nothing he sought out or even bothered thinking about as he grew up, mainly finding himself way too focused with his work. He never thought of himself as someone to ever be with someone romantically and it was something he didn't feel sad about, he just didn't see the point in such a matter and didn't have the time for it. Yet that all changed when you entered his life.

You were something he never expected. You came in and even though he may have tried to ignore you or treat you as he would with any person he would meet, you were different. You had met him years before the Kira case and made it clear that you simply wished to be by his side no matter what. Something he never understood, but never doubted as you had proven to him time and time again how loyal you were and that no matter the challenge, you would conquer them together.

So he has asked you to work with him behind the scenes and you accepted. It seemed to have worked out very well too, as you had remained at his side unknown to the rest of the world just how he planned. It seemed like no case could do anything to knock either of you down, and L had even asked for you to move in with him. It was great, and it felt like you two could handle anything together.

Then Kira came to be.

L didn't want you to get involved at first, but once again your stubborn nature would prevail.

"If you have to risk your life by going to Japan, I will do the same. I will not stand by and let you do this alone!"

It was one of the things you said, and it was the main thing that stood out to him and at that point he knew you wouldn't back down. So he agreed, letting you join him and Watari in going to Japan to help with the Kira case.

L snapped out of any thoughts he had when his lover moved up from where they laid, getting into a sitting position and resting their head against his arm gently.

"Is something the matter?" He found himself asking, raising a brow as he glanced over at them.

"Of course not, me wanting to be close to you isn't a bad thing" they would chuckle, moving a bit closer to the detective as he couldn't really argue with that.

"I can tell there's a lot on your mind though, and I wish I could do more than just let you get lost in your work." His partner would frown as their gaze looked up at him a bit more.

L would stare at them for a couple moments, it wasn't surprising that they'd take notice of his behavior after all. If it wasn't Watari catching on to how he might be feeling, it was his darling instead.

"Well I'd rather get as much done with the Kira Case as possible… but if you had to decide on what I should do instead, what would it be?" He'd respond in his usual calm manner, wondering to see how they'd respond and it seems they knew right away.

"Easy, I'd want you to take a break."

"You know that could be a bad ide-" he would start but you quickly cut him off.

"It's never a bad idea to take some time to take care of yourself and recharge, so when you go back to working you'll feel even better." They must have been thinking of this for a while with how fast they knew how to react to his statements.

"I appreciate the thought Y/N, but-" He would begin, but they'd simply shake their head as they turned so they were sitting on their knees facing them.

"I've already discussed this with Watari, and even he agreed a small break could be beneficial for you and the case. It won't be long, maybe a day at least or something.. like tomorrow for example."

Of course Watari would go on their side, what a traitor, but honestly a small break didn't sound too awful.

"Hm.. what would I even do on this break?" Inquired the messy haired man.

"I was thinking that me and you could just spend some time together and do whatever we want that doesn't deal with the case…" his partner would begin to say, looking up at him with an almost longing sort of way. "It's been awhile since we've been able to do that sort of thing."

"... That is true." L paused for a few moments, his work centered mind battling the other half that wanted to spend as much time as possible with the person he loved. "I have missed spending more time with you like that.."

Y/N would give him a soft smile as they scooted closer, moving his laptop slightly off to the side of his knees as they tested their hand on top of them instead.

"So is that a yes to the break for tomorrow?" They'd ask, leaning up a bit towards L who at this point had moved the laptop off of his lap completely and to the side of the bed so he could have his focus on them.

"Mhm, it seems you know what's best for me after all" he'd say with a soft chuckle as his lips curled up into a soft smile.

His lover's eyes would light up as their smile widened as they moved closer, putting L's knees down so they weren't too close to his chest.

"I'd like to say so at least" they'd say in a playful and low tone as they moved as close as they could without being on his lap.

Their face soon being inches away from his own to the point they felt each other's breaths mingle together. Soon enough the space between them disappeared as they couldn't hold back and kissed the dark haired detective. It was soft and warm before they found themselves deepening it, as if showing how much they both longed to just be together. L would bring a hand up to cup their cheek gently as they kissed for what he wished could last longer, but they pulled away after a couple of moments.

His partner's gaze remained on his face, chuckling softly as they leaned in and hugged him tightly. L would accept it as they ended up on his lap so he could hold them better. He rested a hand on their back as his other ran through their hair gently.

"I can't wait for tomorrow" they'd say in an excited whisper, causing him to chuckle.

"I can't wait either, I can already tell it's going to be more than worth it." L would say in an almost purr as he rested his eyes, them both snuggling together more, enjoying the closeness and warmth.

"I love you." His partner would say softly, their chin resting on him and their voice sounding as if they were getting ready to drift away into a nice sleep in his arms.

"I... you too..." He would reply a little hesitantly as he rubbed their back gently, listening to their heartbeat and steady breathing as their grip remained around him. The word love was something he had trouble with saying, as it was something he wasn't sure if he fully understood, but even if he couldn't say the word just yet, Y/N understood and seemed content nonetheless.

They would continue to enjoy their silence together, it was peaceful and just felt perfect. A great way to end a day and get ready for the day they looked forward to together. L wasn't someone who looked forward to the days to come too much as he had his focus on work to the point where he'd lose track of time, but when it came to Y/N, he felt like he could truly experience normalcy for once. He had so much to look forward to, even if he wasn't really sure what that was yet. It felt like a fairytale he read once, where even through the rough times the two love interests would get through it together to have their happy ending.

Unfortunately, this wasn't a fairytale.

After what must have been around 5-10 minutes, when L had found himself beginning to drift off himself something changed. Something he could have predicted, but with the circumstances this was something he hoped would just never happen throughout the case, something he had tried to prevent with all of his safety precautions. It seemed as if he hadn't done enough though.

The grip from his partner's would suddenly tighten as their heart rate would increase and their breathing hitched, making them let out a gasp. L jumped a little at their actions, his eyes shooting open as he turned his gaze towards them.

"Y/N?? What's wrong?" He'd ask immediately, looking at them as their grip on them began to loosen more and more as their head slumped down as if they were on the verge of falling asleep still.

L didn't know why at first but he felt dread creep up on him as his heartbeat began to race. Then he remembered people like Lind L Tailor who had a similar reaction, right before he.. no. No. His mind felt like it was beginning to buzz as he kept denying that possibility, repeating his partner's name as he raised their head to look at him.

Their gaze wasn't anything like earlier. The light and all the warmth they had, how L could tell how they felt with a simple look, was gone. It seemed almost glazed over, distant, and any form of light was gone and dull as they stared up at him.

Many questions went through the man's mind, how did Kira find out about them? How did they find out their name?? Did he know their connection to him?? What went wrong??? Yet his thoughts were torn from the questions as his dearest would groan softly in pain. They still could react which meant this wasn't some ordinary heart attack like Kira's last victims, perhaps there was a way to save them.

"Y/N?? I know you can hear me, please say something-" L would begin but he knew that if Kira had gotten to them that his time was limited and that he had to act fast. He moved over to his phone, pressing a button that would contact Watari or any of the task force members.

"Watari!" L began, his usual calm tone beginning to show some sort of panic as he spoke into the device, demanding that the older man or any of the members get in her to help. He didn't have much time to say a lot, just saying that you were hurt as needed medical attention as soon as possible. He didn't want to even bring up the name of the bastard that he knew was behind it, simply because a part of him didn't want to believe it even though it was obvious.

After talking into the device he turned his full attention back onto the person that meant most to him who laid in his arms, their struggled breathing quickly becoming steady but more faint as the minutes passed. They stared up towards him with their lost gaze.

"Hold on, Y/N, help is coming.. Just hold on, It'll be okay." L began as he took their hand as all they could do was simply stare at him.

As they stared and seemed to be struggling against what was happening, their breathing was becoming more faint as tears began to form at their eyes. It seemed that they were unable to speak, every time they opened their mouth to speak, a look of pain washed over them.

"Keep holding on, it'll be okay Y/N.. just keep holding on for me." He tried his best to keep his voice calm, yet as he looked down at them he felt his voice beginning to shake as if he was going to break.

The fact they haven't died yet felt cruel to the man who held his lover, as if Kira was doing this on purpose somehow. As if they didn't deserve the mercy of having a quick and painless death in comparison to last criminals. This was a way for Kira to get back at L directly, and it was working unfortunately.

L frowned, wiping their tears with one hand quickly before he checked their pulse. It was slowing down. No.. no, this can't be happening. This had to be some sort of cruel nightmare, something that wasn't unusual for him, but he knew that wasn't the case here. Watari soon arrived in the room with Soichiro and the other members, who looked like they wanted to help yet as Watari went over to L and Y/N, they had a feeling that there wasn't much they could do anyways.

As the pulse began to slow down and their breathing began to sound more forced as they struggled to speak and breathe normally, but under the influence of Kira it was impossible. There wasn't much time left, Watari knew this and so did L. They all knew that the fate of Y/N was in the hands of Kira and he had chosen to make their last moments something for the others involved to remember, as if it was a warning.

L watched their expression as Watari tried to do what he could to keep her awake, which wasn't a whole lot unfortunately. His hand was still on their pulse as it slowed down even more. L couldn't stand this. He kept speaking to Y/N, no.. at this point it was more of a plea. Begging for them to keep going, yet as he saw how much they were suffering he wondered if it would be better if Kira could just end their suffering once and for all, which hurt him to even think about in the first place as he still was in denial about the situation.

It couldn't end like this. He had promised to keep them safe, but he had failed them. Yet they had a peaceful look on their face as they smiled, as if they had accepted it. They began to open their mouth again, and even though they couldn't actually speak it was easy for L to see what they were mouthing. It was them saying that they loved him, and the more he thought about it, it seemed as if this was what they were trying to say this whole time.

"I.. I love you too…" He found himself finally saying. The phrase he struggled saying fully and the one time he can actually say it was when they were being taken away from him. What type of cruel joke was this?

His lover's eyes began to close, the smile on their face beginning to slowly fade. He held them close, fighting back any sort of emotion as he could hear their heart beginning to beat slower and slower.. until it finally stopped completely.

"She's gone." Was all Watari said softly, mainly to the other members who had remained silent.

The shock of the situation had made it hard for any of them to react, not sure what to say or do, especially when it came to L who went dead silent. It was as if they were all trying to figure out what to do next, but no one seemed to know the answer at that moment.

What happened afterwards was a blur for L as he held them close, all he remembered was Watari announcing it in the room and the rest of the world around him became fuzzy. The person who was teaching him how to love and loved him full heartedly, the one person who he had let in to see a side of L that no one else dared to bother with, was now gone. Kira had taken them away from him.

He didn't know how it happened, yet he knew it had to be his fault. If he had been more careful, they would have most likely been fast asleep together to prepare for their break the next day. His chest ached as if he himself was having a heart attack of some sort, and a part of him would have preferred that then the pain that seemed to consume him. He kept his face down and buried into his partner's shoulder for who knows how long in the silent room.

He wasn't sure what to do or say as the loss began to wash over the room. Matsuda looked as if he wanted to go over and comfort him, but even he knew that wasn't the best course of action. So the task force members kept their space, just remaining silent as Watari sat close. After a few moments the older man had waved towards the door, meaning it would be best for them to leave. So they did, leaving L alone with Watari. Soichiro would get in contact with someone to handle Y/N, but they'd all be respectful as L took this time to process everything.

Watari rested a gentle hand on his shoulder, something L didn't react to at first before he looked up and glanced at Watari, tears had managed to fill his eyes. A sight that wasn't common to say the least. He looked at Watari, as if asking his caretaker what to do next but he gained no answer. Instead Watari just sat beside him with his hand on him gently, a small gesture yet it was something the detective needed.

~~~

About an hour later, Y/N was taken away and L was left staring blankly out a window. The atmosphere was heavy as the task members haven't said too much to L yet, and when they did it was them apologizing for the loss and trying to show that they cared and were there for him. L didn't respond though, avoiding their gazes almost completely and stayed to himself for the most part. As he stood by himself by the window, Matsuda would find himself walking over finally.

"Ryuzaki…" he'd begin, making his presence known and to see if there was a response but not surprisingly there wasn't.

"Is there anything we can do tonight?" He asked, frowning as he looked at his feet a little for a few seconds. "Whether it's something for the case or to help you feel better-"

"No." L had finally spoken, cutting off the other male who looked up a bit in surprise.

"Huh? What do you mean no?"

"There's nothing we can do at the moment for the case, and there's only one thing that could make me feel better about this situation."

"What is that?" Matsuda asked, yet even he had a feeling what the answer could be. So it didn't surprise him hearing it.

"Simple. Catching Kira."

#ali writing #ali writes #death note #l lawliet imagine #l lawliet x reader #l lawliet #death note x reader #character death #request #death note L #death note imagines #death note writing #dn #dn writing #dn fluff #L x reader

383 notes · View notes

mostlysignssomeportents · 4 years ago

Text

Watomatic, for lower Whatsapp switching costs

Any discussion of monopolization of the web is bound to include the term “network effects,” and its constant companion, “natural monopolies.” This econojargon is certainly relevant to the discussion, but really needs the oft-MIA idea of “switching costs.”

A technology has “network effects” when its value grows as its users increase, attracting more users, making it more valuable, attracting more users.

The classic example is the fax machine: one fax is useless, two is better, but when everyone has a fax, you need one too.

Social media and messaging obviously benefit significantly from network effects: if all your friends are on Facebook (or if it’s where your kid’s Little League games are organized, or how your work colleagues plan fun activities), you’ll feel enormous pressure to join.

Indeed, in these days of Facebook’s cratering reputation, it’s common to hear people say, “I’m only on FB because my friends are there,” and then your friends say, “I’m only there because you are there.”

It’s a form of mutual hostage-taking.

That hostage situation illustrates (yet) another economic idea: “collective action problems.” There are lots of alternatives to Facebook, but unless you can convince everyone on Facebook to pick one and move en masse, you’ll just end up with yet another social account.

This combination of network effects and collective action problems leads some apologists for tech concentration to call the whole thing a “natural monopoly” — a system that tends to be dominated by a single company, no matter how hard we try.

Railroads are canonical “natural monopolies.” Between the costs of labor and capital and the difficulty in securing pencil-straight rights-of-way across long distances, it’s hard to make the case for running a second set of parallel tracks for a competing company’s engines.

Other examples of natural monopolies include cable and telephone systems, water and gas systems, sewer systems, public roads, and electric grids.

Not coincidentally, these are often operated as public utilities, to keep natural monopolies from being abused by greedy jerks.

But the internet isn’t a railroad. Digital is different, because computers are universal in a way that railroads aren’t — all computers can run all programs that can be expressed in symbolic logic, and that means we can almost always connect new systems to existing ones.

Open up a doc in your favorite word processor and choose “Save As…” and just stare in awe and wonder at all the different file-formats you can read and write with a single program. Some of those formats are standardized, while others are proprietary and/or obsolete.

It’s easier to implement support for a standard, documented format, but even proprietary formats pose only a small challenge relative to the challenge presented by, say, railroads.

Throw some reverse-engineering and experimentation at a format like MS DOC and you can make Apple Pages, which reads and writes MS’s formats (which were standardized shortly after Pages’ release, that is, after the proprietary advantage of the format was annihilated).

This is not to dismiss the ingenuity of the Apple engineers who reversed Microsoft’s hairball of a file-format, but rather, to stress how much harder their lives would have been if they were dealing with railroads instead of word-processors.

During Australia’s colonization, every state had its own governance and its own would-be rail-barons. Each state laid its own gauge of rail-track, producing the “multi-gauge muddle” — which is why, 150+ years later, you can’t get a train from one end of Oz to the other.

Hundreds of designs for interoperable rolling stock have been tried, but it’s proven impossible to make a reliable car that retracts one set of wheels and drops a different one.

The solution to the middle-gauge muddle? Tear up and re-lay thousands of kilometers of track.

Contrast that with the Windows users who discovered that Pages would read and write the thousands of documents they’d authored and had to exchange with colleagues: if they heeded the advice of the Apple Switch ads, they could buy a Mac, move their files over, and voila!

Which brings me to switching costs. The thing that make natural monopolies out of digital goods and services are high switching costs, including the collective action problem of convincing everyone to quit Facebook or start using a different word-processor.

These switching costs aren’t naturally occurring: they are deliberately introduced by dominant firms that want to keep their users locked in.

Microsoft used file format obfuscation and dirty tricks (like making a shoddy Mac Office suite that only offered partial compatibility with Windows Word files) to keep the switching costs high.

By reverse-engineering and reimplementing Word support, Apple obliterated those switching costs — and with them, the collective action problem that created Word’s natural monopoly.

Once Pages was a thing, you didn’t have to convince your friends to switch to a Mac at the same time as you in order to continue collaborating with them.

Once you get an email-to-fax program, you can discard your fax machine without convincing everyone else to do the same.

Interoperability generally lowers switching costs. But adversarial interoperability — making something new that connects to something that already exists, without its manufacturer’s consent — specifically lowers deliberate switching costs.

Adversarial interoperability (or “competitive compatibility,” AKA “comcom”) is part of the origin story of every dominant tech company today. But those same companies have gone to extraordinary lengths to extinguish it.

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/10/adversarial-interoperability

Just as a new company may endorse standardization when it’s trying to attract customers who would otherwise be locked into a “ecosystem” of apps, service, protocols and parts, so too do new companies endorse reverse-engineering and comcom to “fix” proprietary tech.

But every pirate wants to be an admiral. Once companies attain dominance, they start adding proprietary extensions to the standard and fighting comcom-based interoperability, decrying it as “hacking” or “theft of intellectual property.”

In the decades since Microsoft, Apple, Google, and Facebook were upstarts, luring users away from the giants of their days, these same companies have labored to stretch copyright law, terms of service, trade secrecy, patents and other rules to ban the tactics they once used.

This has all but extinguished comcom as a commercial practice. Today’s comcom practitioners risk civil and criminal liability and struggle to get a sympathetic hearing from lawmakers or the press, who have generally forgotten that comcom was once a completely normal tactic.

The obliteration of comcom is why network effects produce such sturdy monopolies in tech — and there’s nothing “natural” about those monopolies.

If you could leave Facebook but still exchange messages with your friends who hadn’t wised up, there’d be no reason to stay.

In other words, the collective action problem that the prisoners of tech monopolies struggle with is the result of a deliberate strategy of imposing high technical and legal burdens to comcom, in order to impose insurmountable switching costs.

I wrote about this for Wired UK back in April, comparing the “switching costs” the USSR imposed on my grandmother when she fled to Canada in the 1940s to the low switching costs I endured when I emigrated from Canada to the UK to the USA:

https://www.wired.co.uk/article/social-media-competitive-compatibility

Today, there’s a group of tech monopoly hostages who are stuck behind their own digital iron curtain, thanks to Facebook’s deliberate lock-in tactics: the users of Whatsapp, a messaging company that FB bought in 2014.

Whatsapp was a startup success: founded by privacy-focused technologists who sensed users were growing weary of commercial surveillance, they pitched their $1 service as an alternative to Facebook and other companies whose “free” products extracted a high privacy price.

Facebook bought Whatsapp, stopped the $1 charge, and started spying. In response to public outcry, the Facebook product managers responsible for the app assured its users that the surveillance data WA extracted wouldn’t be blended with Facebook’s vast database of kompromat.

That ended this year, when every Whatsapp user in the world got a message warning them that Facebook had unilaterally changed Whatsapp’s terms of service and would henceforth use the app’s surveillance data alongside the data it acquired on billions of people by other means.

Downloads of Whatsapp alternatives like Signal and Telegram surged, and Facebook announced it would hold off on implementing the change for three months. Three months later, on May 15, Facebook implemented the change and commenced with the promised, more aggressive spying.

Why not? After all, despite all of the downloads of those rival apps, Whatsapp usage did not appreciably fall. Convincing all your friends to quit Whatsapp and switch to Signal is a lot of work.

If the holdout is — say — a beloved elder whom you haven’t seen in a year due to lockdown, then the temptation to keep Whatsapp installed is hard to resist.

What if there was a way to lower those collective action costs?

It turns out there is. Watomatic is a free/open source “autoresponder” utility for Whatsapp and Facebook that automatically replies to messages with instructions for reaching you on a rival service.

https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.parishod.watomatic

It’s not full interoperability — not a way to stay connected to those friends who won’t or can’t leave Facebook’s services behind — but it’s still a huge improvement on the nagging feeling that people you love are wondering why you aren’t replying to their messages.

The project’s sourcecode is live on Github, so you can satisfy yourself that there isn’t any sneaky spying going on here:

https://github.com/adeekshith/watomatic

It’s part of a wider constellation of Whatsapp mods, which have their origins in a Syrian reverse-engineer whose Whatsapp comcom project was picked up and extended by African modders who produced a constellation of Whatsapp-compatible apps.

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2020/03/african-whatsapp-modders-are-masters-worldwide-adversarial-interoperability

These apps are often targeted for legal retaliation by Facebook, so it’s hard to find them in official app stores where they might be vetted for malicious code.

It’s a strategy that imposes a new switching cost on Whatsapp’s hostages, in the form of malware risk.

Legal threats are Facebook’s default response to comcom. That’s how they responded to NYU’s Ad Observer, a plugin that lets users scrape and repost the political ads they’re served.

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2021/04/553000000-reasons-not-let-facebook-make-decisions-about-your-privacy

Ad Observer lets independent researchers and journalists track whether Facebook is living up to its promises to block paid political disinformation. Facebook has made dire legal threats to shut this down, arguing that we should trust the company to mark its own homework.

Whatsapp lured users in by promising privacy. It held onto them post-acquisition by promising them their data would be siloed from Facebook’s main databases.

When it reneged on both promises, it papered this over by with a dialog box where they had to click I AGREE.

This “agreement” is a prime example of “consent theater,” the laughable pretense that Facebook is “making an offer” and the public is “accepting the offer.”

https://onezero.medium.com/consent-theater-a32b98cd8d96

Most people never read terms of service — but even when they do, “agreements” are subject to unilateral “renegotiation” by companies that engineered high switching costs as a means of corralling you into clicking “I agree” to things no rational person would ever agree to.

Consent theater lays bare the fiction of agreement. Real agreement is based on negotiation, and markets are based on price-signals in which buyers and sellers make counteroffers.

A “market” isn’t a place where a dominant seller names a price and then takes it from you.

Comcom is a mechanism for making these counteroffers. Take ad-blockers, which Doc Searls calls “the largest consumer boycott in history.” More than a quarter of internet users have installed an ad-block, fed up with commercial surveillance.

This is negotiation, a counteroffer. Big Tech — and the publications it colonizes — demand you give them everything, all the data they can extract, for every purpose they can imagine, forever, as a condition of access.

Ad-block lets you say “Nah.”

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/07/adblocking-how-about-nah

The fiction that tech barons have “discovered” the “price” that the public is willing to pay for having a digital life is a parody of market doctrine. Without the ability to counteroffer — in code, as well as in law — there is no price discovery.

Rather, there is price-setting.

Not coincidentally, “the ability to set prices” is the textbook definition of an illegal monopoly.

#pluralistic

66 notes · View notes

supernatural-love14 · 4 years ago

Text

Is That All I Am To You?

Summary: Thinking that her and Dean are exclusive, the Reader is proved wrong when Dean tells another hunter that they are only friends…

Warnings: The tiniest bit of fluff (and I seriously mean tiny). some serious ANGST. No happy ending. Arguing. Language. Crying. Lots of crying…

Word Counts: 1,682

Pairing: Dean x Reader, Former Dean x Reader

PROMPT: Is that all I am to you?

A/N: This is for the @jawritter 1500 Follower Challenge - Jen’s Make Me Cry Challenge - here’s the masterlist to it.

MAIN MASTERLIST ~ SERIES MASTERLIST ~ ONESHOT MASTERLIST

Four years. Four years that I have known Dean Winchester. Two years that we have been dating. At first it started out as a friends with benefits thing, which I was completely fine with if it meant I could spend time with Dean. But then it started to get serious, he started to take me on dates. We’d go to restaurants - just me and him, go play crazy golf, go on walks, stuff that couples would do.

A year down the line of the relationship, Dean gives me space in his room for clothes. Not that it really mattered if I had a drawer or not in his room considering my room was only down the hall. But most of the time I would sleep in his room, with his arms protectively wrapped around me as we slept.

Even Sam believed we were dating, it felt like we were dating - like it was all real. But I was so wrong, that I didn’t even realise that everything Dean had ever promised me was a lie. I should have seen it coming. Like come on, it’s Dean freaking Winchester. The one who gets around with all the women, never settling down, never dating anyone because it would have the worst outcome.

How couldn’t I have seen this? Why couldn’t I have stopped myself from falling for his charm years ago? I feel so naive and gullible. I know now that I can’t ever believe anything that man says. Ever again.

I have to leave, I have to get out of here.

5 Hours Earlier…

Meeting Sam at the bar, Dean and I walk in with his arm “possessively” wrapped around my waist, warding off any guys that would even think to get close to me. Sam sat in one of the corner booths of the bar far away from anyone. To everyone it looked like we were together, technically we were.

Joining Sam at the table, I was sat next to Dean leaning my head on his shoulder while he had one of his arms wrapped around mine. It was so clear to everyone that we were more than just friends. The lingering touches, the featherlight kisses on the forehead. Even the way he looked at me suggested that there was more than friendship. For the first time in a long time, there were no girls even attempting to flirtatiously glance his way. They knew he was taken. They didn’t even try to come over to get his attention, they knew they wouldn’t get it.

“Any new cases, Sammy?” Dean asked, as he grabbed onto one of the many beer bottles that was brought over to them, taking a large gulp of it.

“Man, I’ve looked but nothing so far, a whole bunch of others have taken cases and there’s just nothing at the moment.”

“Do they need any help?” Dean asked, clearly needing something to keep him occupied but Sam quickly shook his head.

“I’ve already asked, but you know what hunters are like, they’ve got their own partners to help them and they don’t need three extra hunters. But I’ll keep looking for cases, I guess we can just take this time off that we never get round to having.” Sam explained, lifting his own beer to drink, his eyes scanning the bar before noticing someone staring at them. “Hey, we’re being watched.”

“What… by who?”

“Don’t know, I’ve never seen him before, he’s just intensely looking at us from the bar.” I turn around to see the man sitting at the bar. Once he see’s me looking at him, he smiles. Gasping I realise who it is. “Y/n, you know who that is?”

“Yeah… my ex.” Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Dean slightly turns to see the guy who is staring at you.

“Bad ending?” Sam asked with concern, his eyes shifting from you to your ex and then to Dean.

“Not really. He’s not… a hunter. And it was a long time ago.” You started to explain to the boys.

“Are you going to go over?” Dean asked, masking his emotions with a straight face.

“Should I?” Looking up at him, trying to get a read on him but failing miserably.

Gulping, Dean looked from you to your ex before looking back at you. “Y/n, he’s clearly here to see you. You should go over there.”

“But I’m here with you guys… It’s fine, really. I’m with you. I have no reason to see him. It didn’t end well last time I saw him, which was when we broke up.”

“Did he know about the hunting life?”

“Yeah, that’s the main reason we broke it off.” I lie easily, not really wanting to explain my past.

“Maybe he’s trying to get you back, maybe he’s ok with you being a hunter.”

“Dean! I’m with you, I don’t need to go back with my ex… I’m already taken.”

“Yeah but we’re not really together, together…”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You raise your voice slightly, hoping this isn’t where it’s really going.

“Dean, st-“ Sam started to say before Dean interrupted him.

“We’re only friends with benefits.”

“So, what two years of being together - friends with benefits or not, and not once id you think that with all your actions showed that this was more than friends with benefits. You don’t take a friend with benefits on dates. Let me guess in all of this whole ‘friends with benefits’ thing, you’ve been seeing other people haven’t you?”

“Y/n…I’m sorry that you thought there was more to this-“

“No. What you did was lead me on. I’m going back to the bunker.” Getting up from my seat, I quickly grab my stuff before heading out towards the door. My ex immediately heading towards me, and I couldn’t even stop the eye roll from forming.

“Hey, Y/n. It’s been a while.” He stops in front of me, blocking me from the exit and now i’m suddenly remembering why we broke up in the first place. Anyone would think that we broke up because I was in the hunting life and he was not, something normal. But no, this cheating bastard thinks he has the audacity to think we will pick things up where it was left.

“Yeah, I guess. How’s Amanda?”

“Andrea, was her name.”

“OH right, that so silly of me to get the name mixed up of the girl you threw me away for.” I said bitterly, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Y/n, at the time we weren’t really together.” You could just feel like your brain wanted to explode at that very second, what was with men and not telling you what the relationship status was. Was it that hard to talk for them to talk to me? And why did I have such bad luck with men!?

“Yeah, I remember, I remember you so clearly saying that as you were banging that chick in our bedroom of the house we brought together!”

“Y/n…” He started to say grabbing my arm slightly to pull me towards him, before I so rudely pushed it away. “Don’t be like this. Remember all the fun we had together.”

“No. I don’t. Now if you excuse me, I have to leave. I’ve dealt with dickheads all evening.”

“Hey, don’t go. Come on, catch up with me.”

“No. I’m not going down that path again. What happened between me and you is now over. It’s been over for years.” Clearly not getting the message, he pulls me roughly towards him, before I kick him in the balls. I didn’t even realise one of the Winchester boys were behind me before Sam pulled me back away from my dick of an ex-boyfriend.

“Hey, she clearly said no. So leave her alone.” Sam defended, a glare placed on his face, I turned slightly to see where Dean was but seeing him at the other end of the bar chatting up a chick just made my blood boil. Here I was clearly struggling to get rid of my ex and he’s over there throwing what little we had left away like trash. From this moment I knew it was over. I knew we would never be together. And I knew I had to leave for good. No more would I fall for men like him.

I could feel my eyes tearing up, blinking rapidly to hold them back from falling. My ex now left the area of the bar as Sam watched me with concern. “I’m going back to the bunker.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, I’ll be fine. I’m just going to get some sleep.”

“Ok…just call me to let me know you got back ok.”

“Of course.” Lying through my teeth as I give Sam a quick hug. With him never realising that this would be the last time he would see me. I leave the bar quickly heading back to place which will no longer be my home.

After 5 hours I had packed my things, grabbed anything and everything I had in Dean’s room and my old room to put into my car. My old car was sitting in the garage, where it had been left since the day I moved in here. I never really needed it when I had moved in, I couldn’t help the tears that fell down my face as I realise how much I will miss this place. The memories that I thought were good now turned to ash and dust.

I will move on from Dean Winchester. Sitting behind the wheel just made it all too real as Dean will never know how much I loved him but I have to leave, I can’t stay here knowing that he will never fully be with me not after everything that I now know. He’ll never know what he truly missed out on, holding a hand to my flat stomach, the life that was slowly growing inside of me. Dean will never know that he would have a child. Because he will never find me. Not ever again.

IF YOUR NAME IS CROSSED OUT IT MEANS I CANNOT TAG YOU FOR SOME REASON. ALSO FEEDBACK IS MUCH APPRECIATED!

Forever Tags:

@peachyafshawn @vicmc624 @deanswaywardgirl @hobby27

Dean Winchester Tags:

@foreverasouldreamer @a-girls-little-world @dreamyalessiaa @dhawandyke @bi-danvers0 @anorable-agnes-drew @autumnfrancour2 @waywardbeanie @ellewritesfix05 @flamencodiva @akshi8278 @tuataracda123

If you wish to be added to the taglist even if it just for a series or one shot - comment down below or ask me!

#jensmakemecrychallenge #angst #dean #dean winchester #sad #no happy ending

119 notes · View notes

fox-steward · 4 years ago

Note

hi. i hope you don't mind me asking this but i need some advice.

i was born female, and ive always been a tomboy, sometimes in the most stereotypical way. i was also a little lesbian who didn't know it yet. but after my younger sibling came out to me as trans, i started second guessing everything about myself.

for the sake of my sibling, who im closer to than anyone in my life, i learned about what theyre going through to support them and ended up getting taken in myself. i consumed all the yaoi and gay fanfiction they did, i read up on all the identities that were within the trans umbrella and eventually i started to think i wasnt a girl at all, but my infact a feminine transboy.

i never was able to transition on account of my family but the growing inner hate i felt for myself made me want to because deep down I knew that no matterr what i said or believed, id never be the cis gay boys i, essentially, fetishised and craved to be. it made me miserable, but i wanted to be accepted so badly that i stuck with it. but then i fou d your blog and others like it, and reading through it, whole reevaluating myself made me realise how misguided my mindset was.

despite realising that me being a tomboy is perfectly fine, i cant help but cling to that idea of being a boy, even though i have no idea what it means to "be a boy" or "feel like a boy". all i know is what the media portrays boys, feminine boys and gay boys to be like, and i clung to that idea for so long that i believed it to be my identity.

i just wanted to ask, if i can, how can i get over this mindset? i feel terrible because my younger sibling still identifies as trans without a shadow of a doubt, and my questioning of myself makes me feel awful, but i also feel bad because... i dont know who i am really now. how can i just be me again?

sorry this is long. any advice would be very very much appreciated.

it sounds like you’ve been through it, anon. whew! i just wanna acknowledge what a mindfuck you’ve been through, and it’s normal to feel no so great.

i actually think you’re grieving, strange as that sounds, but hear me out. being female is not easy, being a masculine woman comes with its own set of challenges, and imagining yourself as a “gay transboy” was an escape from all that. you could imagine a future for yourself where you grew up to be a gay man, not a gay woman. it’s worth noting relationships between men are the only sexual/romantic pairing that isn’t party to misogyny within the relationship itself.

it’s intoxicating to imagine we could have that ourselves, huh? it happened to me too, and i’m not even actually attracted to males at all, i was really just seduced by the idea of a relationship of equals.

but this. is. a. fantasy. one we as female people can never achieve.

so you’re grieving the vision you had for your future. your grief doesn’t care that the thing you promised yourself is impossible.

you’re undergoing another shift in the way you see yourself, the way you imagine yourself moving through the world. that’s hard, anon. being a tomboy, while absolutely lovely and perfectly fine, can be really difficult in our misogynistic society. it’s like that dworkin quote i’m about to butcher—something something absolutely excruciating to be fully aware of the misogyny all around us. you get the gist. and she’s right, but that doesn’t mean it’s not worth it.

so idk, i don’t have any specific advice, but i do know a lot about grief. with grief, you gotta accept you’re gonna feel shitty for a while and absolve yourself of the responsibility of ~fEeLiNg HaPpY~ for now. i’m being flippant because happiness is a mirage anyway. we get pricks of joy, moments of brightness or laughter, flow and contentment, enjoyment, pleasure, and these fill in between other moments of discomfort or monotony or tedium or malaise or or or. and if we’re lucky we are aware when the good stuff is happening, so that we can pause and say, gee this is nice. and if you get enough of then and you’re aware enough as they’re happening, perhaps you can tie it up in a bow of hindsight and call it contentment.

tangent, sorry. practically, keep yourself busy and tire yourself the fuck out, tbh. when my wife left, i started just going and doing things, anything i didn’t actively NOT want to do. dancing, concerts, art class, bike ride, walk a friends dog, cooking class, sit in a field and listen to music.

just do anything. i know it’s hard during covid, but it isn’t so much WHAT you do but THAT you do. take the field example—you have to travel there (that kills time!) and maybe you walk or bike (that is physical activity) then you do the thing you planned to do (takes more time) and you have to travel home (more time and activity) then you have completed something you set out to do (an achievement/free endorphins).

i also took up running when she left (tire myself the fuck out) and that changed so much for me. with grief, rumination and sleeplessness plagued me; running took both those out of the equation. so my sleep improved, i got stronger and my cardiovascular fitness improved, i ate better, i got to see myself improve and achieve goals, got to build an identity separate from who i was in my marriage. so i cannot recommend running enough.

and as for identity, finding out “who you are”—identity is a trap. don’t cement yourself to any one thing because everything changes. don’t define yourself by externalities, just be open and curious about your inner life, your qualities (which are also able to change btw) and start to strengthen the ones you like, like training a muscle. i practice (literally practice) kindness and discipline, which are important qualities for how i see myself. i also practice at compassion and i like how these things make me feel and how i show up in the world when i’m practicing at them. what qualities will you train in yourself?

you’re not defined in relation to your sibling, btw, and they aren’t defined in relation to you. you can question transness while still loving them.

you’re gonna be just fine, anon. you have plenty of time. grieve the future you can’t have, even though it’s truly for the best, and cultivate a person in yourself you’re excited to be. good luck.

#detrans #detransition #radfem #radical feminism #transgender #gender critical #ftm #asked #answered #anonymous #anon

26 notes · View notes

puppyluver256 · 3 years ago

Photo

[Image Description: A woman with light skin and freckles, short auburn hair, and brown eyes. She is wearing a beige cowboy hat with a tan band around it, a light blue button-up shirt, a red neckerchief, blue denim jeans, a brown belt with a silver buckle, and tan cowboy boots with a lighter tan Pokeball pattern. There is a grey emblem attached to her neckerchief, emblazoned with a white circle logo. The woman has a red and white Pokeball in her hand, and is looking at it while in an energetic pose. Beside her is a fan-made Pokemon design resembling a young bovine. Its body is a light orange with yellow stomach, inner ears, and muzzle. It has blue eyes, short lavender horns and a lavender brow ridge, a large blue nose, brown neck fluff, blue hooves on its stumpy legs, and a tan tail with a tuft of blue hair on the end. The background resembles the background for normal-type Pokemon as seen in Pokemon Go. End ID.]

-----

"Howdy, Trainer! Welcome to your first Cantessy League Gym Challenge! I'm Tomi, and I've been helping to raise Pokemon in these parts for a Stoutland's age, and my family's been doing the same at our ranch for generations. We take good care of our Pokemon here! Sure, they're your standard normal-types, but the normal ones often end up being the one that surprise you the most! Ready to see how many surprises we can bring?"

Alllll right! Time to start getting into Cantessy's Gym Leaders! And hoo boy, Cantessy has a LOT of Gym Leaders! Much like Unova and Galar, Cantessy's Gym Leader lineup changes depending on what hypothetical version the player would pick up. However, it's not just one Gym whose leader changes yet keeps the same type like in Black and White, nor two cities switching out Gym Leaders and type specialties per versions. Instead, EVERY Cantessy Gym Leader is version-dependent! That's right, Cantessy technically has 16 Gym Leaders! And when you make your way to Shelbyton, you'll find one of the first pair.

In Plow Version's Shelbyton Gym, you'll face off against Tomi, a ranch hand who specializes in normal-types. She's partial to dog-like and cow-like ones, and of course they raise a lot of Moofer, Tauros, and Miltank over at the Parr Family Ranch. Before you can fight her, though, you'll need to get through the Gym challenge alongside a rental non-battling Herdier. With this specially trained Herdier by your side, you'll be tasked with herding groups of Tauros and Miltank into their appropriate stalls and fight Gym trainers along the way as each properly herded group of Pokemon unlock gates to each section of the Gym in order to reach Tomi at the end.

Tomi's initial Gym battle comes after you've had quite a bit of time to train up, so her team's a bit higher leveled than most first Gym Leader teams. She has a Herdier at level 16, and then she'll follow it up with a Moofer at level 18. Shouldn't be too much of a challenge, given she's only the first Gym Leader and all. There is a bit of a battle gimmick that I'll explain later, but since you'll both have access to it that addition will just lead to some extra fun. :3c After becoming the Champion, you can rematch Tomi with a higher-leveled full team of six: Twitchail, Stantler, Muskrill, Stoutland, Tauros, and Miltank. Yeah, I added both to her postgame team just so I didn't have to stick a definitive gender on that initial Moofer XD

💖🐶 Check out my pinned post for ways to support my artwork, among other things! 🐶💖

~If you like, please reblog to show your friends! Likes are appreciated, but reblogs let more people see my content! If you have something to say, feel free to give feedback in tags/comments/replies as well!~

Pokemon and related concepts © Nintendo/GameFreak Tomi Parr, Moofer, the Cantessy region, and artwork © PuppyLuver Studios

#pokemon #pokemon trainer #fakemon #cantessy region #gym leader tomi #moofer #jess drew the thing #sfw #image description

6 notes · View notes

paperanddice · 4 years ago

Photo

Image Description: Two stat blocks for the stonesinger, the first is for D&D 5e and the second is for 13th Age. Full text available below the read more. End ID.

Stonesingers are unnatural creatures spawned forth when the reality twisting nature of the Far Realm touches upon the Material Plane and grants life to stone. It takes a scorpionlike form, with a dozen legs each tipped in jagged, razor sharp crystals, layered stone scales that cover its back, and a lamprey mouth on the tip of its tail. In place of a scorpion’s normal mouth are a mass of purple tentacles with sharp points, though these tentacles aren’t strong or fast enough to serve as weapons in combat.

Many mistake them for creatures of elemental earth, and they can even control unworked stone with innate magics, but they are truly native to the Material Plane. They are most often found deep underground where the Far Realm’s influence has little else to work on besides raw stone, taking years or even decades to be born. A given opening to the Far Realm can birth forth many stonesingers over time before naturally closing or being forced shut by outside interference.

Stonesingers are consummate performers as their name suggests, particularly interested in song. They compose their own songs, relying purely on natural vocal talent with no instruments of any kind, and will seek out an audience to show off before. Some will even kidnap people to create an audience if they can’t find one otherwise, trapping victims in magically shaped stone and singing for them until they die of thirst. If multiple stonesingers meet, they will usually try to find a judge to decide which of them has the best song. They also appreciate other singers, and a creature that can perform a particularly impressive song may be able to deal with a stonesinger (a DC 25 Performance check using no instrument in 5e, or a DC 25 Charisma check with an appropriate background for 13th Age), not just calming it but potentially even buying its allegiance for a short time. Communication can be difficult however, as stonesingers speak their own created language, and have rarely spent the time to learn any others. Use of magic to speak with one usually finds it to be very self centered and overly dramatic, acting the part of an arrogant star, but their personalities do vary somewhat.

5th Edition

Stonesinger Large aberration, any alignment Armor Class 17 (natural armor) Hit Points 114 (12d10 + 48) Speed 30 ft., burrow 20 ft., climb 20 ft. Str 20 (+5) Dex 10 (+0) Con 18 (+4) Int 16 (+3) Wis 10 (+0) Cha 18 (+4) Skills Perception +3, Performance +10 Damage Resistances bludgeoning, piercing and slashing damage from nonmagical attacks Senses tremorsense 120 ft., passive Perception 13 Languages stonesinger Challenge 7 (2900 XP) Innate Spellcasting. The stonesinger's spellcasting ability is Charisma (spell save DC 15). The stonesinger can innately cast the following spells, requiring no material components: 3/day each: meld into stone, stone shape 1/day each: wall of stone Actions Multiattack. The stonesinger makes three attacks: one with its bite and two with its claws. Bite. Melee Weapon Attack: +8 to hit, reach 10 ft., one target. Hit: 12 (2d6+5) piercing damage. The target must succeed on a DC 15 Constitution saving throw or become poisoned for one minute. While poisoned in this way, the target's speed is cut in half and it has disadvantage on Dexterity checks and saving throws. The poisoned target can repeat the saving throw at the end of each of its turns, ending the effect on itself on a success. Claws. Melee Weapon Attack: +8 to hit, reach 5 ft., one target. Hit: 12 (2d6+5) slashing damage. Shattering Shriek (Recharge 6). Ranged Spell Attack: +7 to hit, reach 5 ft., one creature. Hit: 42 (12d6) thunder damage and the target must succeed on a DC 15 Constitution saving throw or become stunned for 1d6 rounds. If this attack reduces the target to 0 hit points, the target is stable but unconscious. The target can repeat the saving throw at the end of each of its turns, ending the effect on itself on a success.

13th Age

Stonesinger Large 4th-level troop [aberration] Initiative: +5 Crystal Claws +9 vs. AC (2 attacks) - 10 damage Natural Even Hit or Miss: The stonesinger can make a biting tail attack as a quick action this turn. [Special Trigger] Biting Tail +9 vs. AC (one nearby enemy) - 10 damage Natural 14+: The target is stuck and hampered (save ends both). R: Shattering Song +10 vs. PD (all nearby enemies) - 18 thunder damage Natural 12+: The target is stunned (easy save ends, 6+). Natural 16+: The save is a normal save instead (11+). Natural 20: The save is a hard save instead (16+). Limited Use: 1/battle. Meld Into Stone: At the start of each of the stonesinger’s turns, roll a d6 to see if it gets to meld into stone on this turn. If the roll is equal to or less than the escalation die, the stonesinger can use a move action to meld into a nearby stone surface. Remove it from play. The stonesinger reappears at the start of its next turn in a nearby location connected to the same stone surface it melded into. It can’t meld into stone successfully on the same turn it reappears. After the first success, the die increases to a d8. After the second success a d10, after the third a d12, and finally after a fourth success a d20. AC 18 PD 17 MD 17 HP 100

Originally from the 3.5 Monster Manual III. Originally from the 3.5 Monster Manual III. This post came out a week ago on my Patreon. If you want to get access to all my monster conversions early, as well as a spot on the Paper and Dice Discord server, consider backing me there!

#D&D #DnD #Dungeons and Dragons #5th Edition #13th Age #homebrew #my homebrew #monster #aberration

35 notes · View notes

gelatinocomics · 4 years ago

Text

"The Maud Couple” Is Good, Actually

[ID: Pinkie Pie, Maud, and Mudbriar stand outside in the daytime, looking at each other. Pinkie is smiling and talking with her hoof raised, while Maud and Mudbriar stare back blankly.]

In my experience, The Maud Couple (S8E3) is generally an unpopular episode of My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic due to the introduction of the contentious character Mudbriar. It's understandably unpopular among the queer fans, who hate to see a shoehorned-in hetero relationship, and some neurodivergent fans who might take issue with Mudbriar's portrayal of autism.

These are legitimate grievances, but I think people don't give this episode a fair shake. I've put some thought into it, and I ended up taking a positive message away from this episode, even if it wasn’t the one intended by the writers. I'd like to delve into my feelings on the episode, which might help you better appreciate an underappreciated character.

[ID: Starlight Glimmer, wearing a mining helmet, smiles and looks behind her. In front of her there are large yellow, blue, and green gemstones embedded in a cave wall. Maud and Starlight’s reflection appears in every facet of the gemstones. Maud looks down as she talks.]

"Another reason I like rocks – they don't exclude you if you're... different than other ponies." (S7E4 Rock Solid Friendship)

Maud Pie is undeniably neurodivergent. Since her introduction, fans on the autism spectrum found lots of things to relate to: her lack of tone regulation in speech, her special interest, and her general difficulty in following the social rules that neurotypical people take for granted. In her first appearance, the Mane 6 found Maud difficult to understand, and none of them could get along well with her. The one thing they could agree upon was their love for Pinkie Pie. Pinkie grew up with Maud and they have an unbreakable bond. It’s a running joke in the show that while other characters struggle with Maud’s oddities, Pinkie finds nothing unusual about her.

The Maud Couple saw the introduction of Mudbriar, Maud’s boyfriend who she met offscreen. However, in his first scene, we don’t know his relation to Maud; he’s just an abrasive character that Pinkie can’t stand. Pinkie is shocked to discover that Maud would fall “in like” (Maud’s words describing her relationship with Mudbriar) with someone like him.

The irony of the situation is that Mudbriar is shown to be just like Maud. Maud says they have a lot in common, and they’re happiest when discussing their special interests. Later, Starlight (already established to be good friends with Maud) points out that Mudbriar sounds just like Maud, and Pinkie has trouble accepting that. The rest of the episode is about Pinkie learning to respect her sister’s love for Mudbriar, even if she can’t personally understand it.

[ID: Pinkie Pie wraps Maud and Mudbriar in a hug as they all sit together on a clifftop. The sun is setting behind them. Maud looks at Pinkie and smiles, while Mudbriar looks blankly at Pinkie.]

“Technically?! You’re right!”

Those are the facts of the episode. If Maud is such a popular character, why do so many fans have a bad reaction to Mudbriar? Is the episode wrong in portraying them as the same?

For starters, I think it’s notable that Mudbriar was not initially a sympathetic character in this episode. His first appearance has him severely aggravating Pinkie Pie, and the audience can easily sympathize with her. It’s a clever bit of writing that gives the audience the same exact struggle as Pinkie throughout the episode. The trouble is that many fans don’t feel satisfied by the end, and they can’t embrace Mudbriar the way Pinkie does.

Let’s take a look at Mudbriar’s behavior. Unlike Maud, he has a habit of correcting people over any little technicality. He brings the conversation to a halt when someone speaks with any ambiguity or inaccuracy, even something mundane that most would overlook as a normal and expected part of conversation. In fact, it seems to be his primary mode of communication. Like Maud, he doesn’t follow the typical rules of social interaction, which can make his conversations awkward and unpleasant.

Mudbriar’s behavior can be particularly off-putting to anyone who has experienced something like it. People who engage with internet communities have probably seen their fair share of pedantry-- an obsession with details that's frustrating to anyone trying to carry on a genuine conversation. I’ve seen Mudbriar’s behavior compared to “mansplaining” and Sheldon Cooper from the Big Bang Theory, a character often cited as poor autistic representation (I can’t comment on this since I haven’t seen the show). The neurodivergent audience might not appreciate seeing an autistic character portrayed as annoying and abrasive, since that’s not how autistic people want to be seen.

[ID: Mudbriar and Pinkie Pie are standing in Pinkie’s party cave, with piles and shelves of party supplies in the background. Pinkie aggressively pushes her snout in Mudbriar’s face and scowls at him. Mudbriar looks down at her with a slight grimace.]

Mudbriar isn’t easy to get along with.

I’ve been very careful to avoid describing Mudbriar’s behavior as arrogant or rude, as it might initially seem. There’s a reason for this: Mudbriar is well-intentioned and never does anything mean. Despite the way his correction habit might come across, he never says anything to imply that he thinks he’s superior. He doesn’t look down on anypony. He genuinely tries to be helpful. He never even reveals any dislike for Pinkie Pie. Whether you would describe him as polite or rude is pretty subjective, but you’d be hard-pressed to find any real evidence that he’s condescending. Watch the episode again with this in mind, and you may find that Mudbriar is a much more pleasant character than you thought.

It’s pretty clear that his conversational habit has nothing to do with a sense of superiority. It could be better described as a simple quirk. He might genuinely have difficulty reading ambiguity in conversation, so he needs to find clarity before proceeding. It’s unfortunate that this quirk makes him come across as unpleasant, not only to neurotypical people, but also to other neurodivergent people who can’t vibe with this style of communication. But at least he found somepony who understands.

[ID: Maud and Mudbriar are standing outside in the daytime. Maud smiles at Mudbriar, who is talking happily with his eyes closed.]

Maud has no issue with Mudbriar’s constant corrections. In fact, they’re happiest when correcting each other.

So what does this say about his autistic rep? Well, every autistic person will feel differently. We certainly won’t all be able to relate to Mudbriar’s specific portrayal. But I’m sure a lot of autistic people can relate to being misunderstood for the way we talk or emote, for people reading extra meaning into our manner of communication that just isn’t there. I won’t say MLP:FIM is the most progressive show when it comes to autistic rep; there’s plenty to be said about its neurotypical perspective, consistently treating its autistic characters as a narrative “other”. But there’s plenty to appreciate as well.

This is the message I took away from this episode: at times in your life, you’re always going to meet someone with an experience you can’t quite understand or relate to. You may even be unable to get along with them for whatever reason, and that’s fine. Just give them a fair chance to be themselves without assuming the worst. This is a message I’ve taken with me everywhere, not just for neurodivergence, but for every way that people can be different from one another.

Is this the message that the episode writers intended? It’s hard to say. Pinkie Pie gets a lesson from her sisters about how people can be like geodes, and where Pinkie only sees a crusty exterior, Maud might see a glittering gem. It could be as simple as that. And you could argue that the writers failed to endear the audience to Mudbriar by the end. If they did, would that serve the message better or undermine it?

The Maud Couple can be a challenging episode to enjoy, but I like a good challenge, and I ended up enjoying it more once I took the time to think about it. And if you’ve read this far, I’m hoping that even if you can’t enjoy Mudbriar that much, you can at least appreciate what he stands for.

[ID: Pinkie Pie and Mudbriar are standing over a table in Ponyville. There’s a log wrapped up in gift wrap between them. They are smiling and shaking hooves with each other.]

#my little pony #pinkie pie #maud pie #mudbriar #autism

43 notes · View notes