#he's asked who he could fight and responds with

[sigh-tofm]

when they’re sick…

… price

- banishes himself to the couch and refuses care (to begin with). huffs and gruffs about not needing any special treatment, “‘s only a cold, hon”. his high fever begs to differ, though, so you pull out wool socks and thick knit jacket for him, not willing to let this cold develop into pneumonia. he goes on and on about how it’s not necessary, but you gently ignore him and cook up broth and toast for him in the kitchen, all the while overhearing his violent coughing fits. when you go back out to the living room he’s already asleep, not even snoring, and so pale in the face that he looks much older than he is. you pull a blanket over him and patiently sit next to him in an armchair, reading your book. when he wakes up he lets you dote on him without much complaining (though he doesn’t let you spoon feed him) and begrudgingly agrees to let you call his doctor in the morning if the coughing gets worse. he won’t say it but he secretly likes being taken care of for once.

… kyle

- loves being doted on by you. knows how to play it up a little, has observed his sisters get exactly what they want once they start coughing. bats his lashes at you and for lunch he sweetly asks for that chicken soup you know he likes so much. you let him get away with it because he is the most attentive boyfriend ever every time you’re even slightly under the weather - and you like getting to take care of the man who normally is so attuned to your needs. he will forgo the couch in favour of the bed and smile the way only he can when you come by with a tray of food for him. when the evening comes he’s long since fallen asleep when you come to bed. he’s grown more and more feverish throughout the day, despite your careful ministering of hydration and nourishment, and his face is ashen. you get a cool washcloth to put over his eyes and lie down next to him, gently spooning your wonderful boyfriend who could use some extra loving right now.

… johnny

- kinda wants you to get sick too. not in a malicious way, but in a ‘let’s rot on the couch together’-way. will beg you to stay home with him, says he needs you to keep him company while he watches footie reruns and that you’ll probably get sick either way when you already live in the same house and sleep in the same bed, so you might as well just take the week off. is in a cheery mood, especially considering the number showing on the thermometer and the way he slowly stumbles across the floor. you almost start thinking he’s making it all up, maybe heating the thermometer on a light bulb like a schoolboy, until you come home one day and find him bent over the toilet bowl, groaning. you take a little pity on him then and cook him plain rice and slice up a banana for him, easily digestible foods. he has no complaints nor requests and is unusually silent as you bundle him up and serve him the food (but still make him sit on the bathroom floor, he’s still looking a little green). he gets a sad little smile when you tell him you’ll take the day off tomorrow, because he shouldn’t be alone if he can’t keep food down. and as he said, you’ll probably get sick anyway, so you might as well.

… simon

- is lost. it happens so rarely to him that he doesn’t know how to respond to it. gunshot wounds, stab wounds and broken bones are fine; those he knows how to handle. rattling coughs, nausea and fevers are so rare for him that he doesn’t quite know what to do. one thing he does know is that it makes him vulnerable. a man who can’t stand up without leaning on a wall or can’t breathe silently is no use, he knows, so he does his best to hide it. denies it when you ask about his cough and shakes his head every now and then to fight off the nausea (it doesn’t work). you catch on when you lie a hand on his neck and retract it quickly when you feel the heat on his skin. you make him take a lukewarm shower and sit him down on the sofa with a blanket over his shoulders, while you go make soup. when you come back he’s laid down, as if he’s finally let the sickness catch up with him. he looks like the child he never got to be, all glassy eyed and skin blushing from the fever. you sit with him the rest of the night, spoon feeding him soup and gently petting his hair. if that’s a tear running down his cheek, none of you say anything about it.

[rootedinrevisions]

Just...Stay: Part 2

SUMMARY: Tyler has to prove himself and win back your trust after nearly losing you for good. As he tries to commit to building a life together, the past tensions resurface, challenging both of you to confront the insecurities and fears that have kept you apart.

PART 1 HERE

A/N: I tried to write this using some of the ideas that you guys had for where YOU would like to see the story go (ie: a little bit of Tyler groveling, her moving on, and Tyler having to try and win her back! Hope you like it! xx

WORD COUNT: 4.8k

WARNINGS: Angst. Fluff.

TAG LIST: SEE COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists or be tagged for a specific character please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell (himself and the characters he's played)

Twisters (Mostly Tyler right now, but possibly others soon)

Top Gun: Maverick (Hangman, Rooster, possibly others soon)

Marvel / MCU (Bucky Barnes as of now, but possibly others soon)

WWE / Wrestling

You stand on the porch, watching Tyler’s taillights disappear down the long, winding road. The ache in your chest tightens, and you whisper to yourself, He’s gone. This time, for real. You let out a shaky breath, gripping the porch railing as if it can steady the chaos churning inside you. You’ve waited so many times for him to turn around, to decide he wanted you as much as you wanted him. But he’d made his choice, and you can’t keep waiting for him to want you.

With a shaky breath, you went back inside, the echo of his last words still hanging heavy in the air. Your hands trembled as you reached for your phone, already pressing the familiar contact without needing to see the name. When the line connected and your mother answered, you could barely get out a word. But she didn’t need you to; she recognized the silence, the breathless, broken sound of you holding back tears.

“Oh, honey,” she said softly, with that knowing sadness in her voice. “You don’t have to say a thing. I know.”

The crack in her voice brought the tears you’d been fighting up to the surface. The dam broke, and everything you’d been holding in—the hope, the ache, the final goodbye—poured out, leaving you unable to respond as she filled the silence with soft, soothing words.

“I’m coming over,” she assured you. “Just sit tight. I’ll be there soon.”

You nodded even though she couldn’t see you, wiping away tears as you settled back against the counter, feeling like the empty space Tyler left behind was somehow everywhere now, pressing in around you. The quiet house felt so much bigger without him in it, the emptiness swallowing every corner that once held laughter, whispered promises, and the comfort of his steady presence—even if it was always temporary.

Later, you and your mom sit in the living room, the stillness almost too much to bear. She’s wrapped her arms around you, her gentle strength holding you together when you feel like you’re falling apart. You try to hold back the tears, but the weight of everything—of hoping he’d turn around, hoping he’d realize he was making a mistake, hoping he’d come back up those steps to say he was staying—finally breaks.

Your mom rubs small circles on your back, her voice soft and steady. “He made his choice, and someday, he’ll understand what he’s lost,” she murmurs. “You did everything you could, honey. You deserve someone who’s going to put you first.”

You nod, though it doesn’t stop the ache gnawing at you. For the first time, though, you start to let the truth settle in: that you deserve more than the waiting, the hoping. That you deserve someone who chooses you fully, every single day.

Later that night you stand in front of the bathroom mirror, the harsh light making your face look even more worn from the day, you brace yourself for another quiet night. You slip into your pajamas, ready to try and sleep through the ache in your chest, when your phone lights up on the countertop. Tyler’s name stares back at you, as if daring you to pick up.

Your heart thuds painfully, and for a split second, you’re tempted. He’s calling, just like he said he would. But you can’t answer this time. You can’t let him back in, not after everything. So you hit the red button, sending his call to silence.

Thirty seconds later, your phone lights up again—his name filling the screen once more. The resolve you’d tried so hard to build threatens to crumble, but you steady yourself, knowing you need to stay strong. You told him what would happen if he left. You’d made it clear, and this time, you have to stay firm with that.

With a deep breath, you hit “Ignore” again, feeling both the sting of regret and the strength of your own boundaries. It hurts, but you know it’s what you need to do.

You turn your phone face-down on the bed, trying to ignore the nagging pull to check it. But when you do, Tyler’s message is there, waiting.

Tyler: Can we talk? I just want to talk to you.

You close your eyes, feeling the weight of every unsaid word between you. He wants to talk, but he still isn’t saying what you need to hear—no apologies, no acknowledgment of what he’s putting you through, just the same vague promises. Another message appears as you sit, reading it with an ache building in your chest.

Tyler: Please. Talk to me darlin.

You want to answer; some part of you always will. But there’s no real shift in his words, no sign that he understands what you need. It’s just Tyler reaching out like he always does, and leaving you to carry the weight when he pulls away.

So, you let the messages sit. They stare back at you, blue checkmarks confirming that you’ve seen them, leaving him on read for once. It takes everything in you, but you put your phone on silent and push it to the side. This time, you’re standing firm.

* * * *

A few months had come and gone since you’d last heard Tyler’s voice, and while the ache lingered, day by day, you’d felt it dull. The first few weeks had been the hardest—filled with reminders of him in places you hadn’t even thought to look. But with time, you’d found a new rhythm. You packed up his things and stored them in the barn loft, out of sight and mostly out of mind. There’d been a few days when you’d thought he might call again, but each week that passed with no message made it easier to let him go.

Then, just a few nights ago, you’d bumped into Matt at the bar. The quiet, shy boy you remembered from high school was still there, but he’d grown more self-assured, his conversations easy and light. He’d listened intently, asked thoughtful questions, and laughed at your jokes, which was a nice change after months of heartache. When he’d asked if you’d join him for dinner, his eyes hopeful yet calm, you found yourself agreeing without hesitation.

Now, as you finish getting ready, you catch a glimmer of that anticipation you thought you’d lost. It’s a soft, hopeful excitement, different from the wild spark you’d once had for Tyler, but maybe that’s exactly what you need.

As you slip on your shoes and give yourself one last look in the mirror, a strange mixture of nerves and excitement tingles in your stomach. It’s been so long since you let yourself look forward to something like this—putting on a new dress, curling your hair, and swiping on lipstick just to feel a little spark. It feels nice to step into a night that’s full of possibility, even if it’s quieter than the whirlwind you once imagined with Tyler.

Matt isn’t the kind of guy who will leave you on edge, wondering what comes next. That thought is comforting as you smooth the fabric of your dress and check your reflection one last time. He’s steady, warm, and easy to talk to, and when he’d asked you out last week, you’d felt a genuine flicker of excitement—a feeling you hadn’t allowed yourself in ages.

Your phone chimes, breaking the silence of your room. You glance over, expecting it to be a text from Matt saying he’s on his way, but instead, you freeze. 

Tyler’s name flashes across the screen, and for a moment, everything else fades.

Tyler: Hey. I know it’s been a while, but can we talk? I’ve been thinking a lot. Just… if you have a minute.

You stare at the message, feeling a swirl of emotions you thought you’d buried. It’s been weeks since his last message, and each day that passed without one felt like another small step forward. You’ve been letting him go—pushing his things up into the barn loft, moving him out of your thoughts inch by inch. But tonight, of all nights, he’s suddenly there, reaching out again.

The phone chimes again, and another message appears.

Tyler: I’m sorry. I miss you. Just thought you should know.

Your heart clenches, but this time, you feel a new kind of strength holding you back. You let out a shaky breath, reminding yourself that you deserve someone who doesn’t make you wait and wonder, who doesn’t leave just to come back again. Tyler’s voice and his words, tempting as they are, can’t keep pulling you under. Not anymore.

With that, you tuck your phone into your bag, letting his message go unanswered as you grab your keys. Tonight, you’re stepping out into something new, something steady and full of hope—maybe even something that finally lets you move on.

At dinner, you and Matt settle into a cozy booth near the window, the glow of candlelight casting a soft warmth across the table. You offer a smile, and he returns it, looking just as eager and nervous as you feel. The waiter takes your orders, and for a moment, you both fumble with your menus, using them as a buffer against the quiet that settles between you.

“So,” Matt says, clearing his throat, “how’s work been treating you?”

You launch into a polite summary, and he nods along, sharing his own stories from the hardware store, a few of which earn a chuckle. But as you finish, another silence slips in, and you feel that small, familiar tension build in your chest. You drum your fingers lightly on the table, scanning your mind for something—anything—to say. Just as the silence is about to become too much, Matt asks if you’re excited for the weekend, and you let out a quiet sigh of relief.

You tell yourself it’s probably just nerves, that this is normal. After all, it’s been a couple of years since you’ve been on a real date, and first dates are always a little awkward. But as you lift your glass to take a sip, you can’t help but think back to the times you’d come to this same restaurant with Tyler. How the conversation would flow so easily, sometimes even late into the night. You’d swap stories, share laughs, and talk about everything and nothing all at once. There was never a lull, never a forced smile or the need to fill the quiet.

You catch yourself before the memory sinks any deeper and shake your head, forcing a smile as Matt picks up on a new thread of conversation.

Stepping outside the restaurant after dinner with Matt, you hold the door open just long enough to make sure he’s following when you feel yourself bump into someone headed in. You stumble back, and strong hands instinctively reach out to steady you. You begin to apologize, breathless from the sudden collision, only to look up and freeze. 

Those familiar, green eyes meet yours, and for a moment, everything around you blurs. Tyler stands before you, in a red button-up, worn jeans, and that off-white Stetson you know all too well. He murmurs your name, his voice thick with something unreadable as he holds you in place for a heartbeat longer than necessary. 

But before you can react, Matt is by your side, his hand pressing warmly against your lower back, gently pulling you away. 

Tyler releases you, his gaze lingering as Matt asks if you’re okay. You nod, feeling a bit dazed, and allow Matt to guide you toward the street.

Tyler calls your name again, his voice softer, a thread of desperation woven through it. But you glance back only briefly before following Matt down the sidewalk, his arm curling around your shoulders protectively as he continues talking, oblivious to the moment that just passed. 

You try to steady yourself, but the weight of Tyler’s gaze is still on you, even as you walk away.

Watching you leave with someone else beside you, Tyler’s heart twists in a way he didn’t see coming. The sight of Matt’s hand resting comfortably on your shoulder, of you turning away from him so resolutely, strikes deeper than any storm he’s ever chased. It’s in this moment that something cracks, and he realizes with painful clarity just how much he’s let slip through his fingers. The thought of anyone else sharing the moments you once shared together is a weight he can’t shake. As he watches you disappear into the night, Tyler makes a silent vow to win you back, whatever it takes.

Matt drives you home, the quiet hum of the engine filling the comfortable silence between you as you watch the streets blur past. He’s considerate, not pushing for conversation, as though sensing the hints of distraction lingering in your gaze. When he pulls up to your house, he steps out first, hurrying around to open your door. You offer a grateful smile, following him to your porch as you fish for your keys.

Standing under the dim porch light, you both pause, caught in that familiar, tentative moment that usually ends with a goodnight kiss. Matt smiles, leaning in with a softness in his eyes that tells you he’s hoping for more than the simple goodbye you’re about to offer. And though part of you wants to bridge that gap—maybe even craves the closure it could bring—Tyler’s face flashes in your mind, his eyes catching yours across that restaurant entrance, and you can’t shake the thought.

You lean forward, placing a gentle kiss on Matt’s cheek before stepping back, your hand lightly on his arm. He seems to understand, though a hint of disappointment flickers in his eyes. “Goodnight, Matt,” you say softly, your hand dropping back to your side.

“Goodnight,” he replies, a warm smile slipping back into place. He pulls you in for a quick hug, his embrace steady and reassuring, but he doesn’t push for more. 

Watching him walk back to his car, you feel a pang of guilt. Matt’s a good man, and he deserves someone whose heart isn’t scattered across memories and what-ifs.

You let out a slow breath as his car pulls away, whispering into the stillness around you. You know you’re not quite there yet.

Minutes later you are in the kitchen, getting yourself a glass of water when you hear it. When you hear him. The rumble of his truck reaches you before the sight of it does, that familiar low, steady hum breaking the quiet night. You freeze in place, feeling the sound more than hearing it, the way it seems to settle into your bones and send your heart racing. You step over to the kitchen window, barely breathing as you watch him pull up, headlights cutting through the darkness until he shuts the engine off.

For a moment, he doesn’t move, just sits there, his silhouette still and contemplative. You’d know the tilt of his head, the set of his shoulders, anywhere. 

Slowly, he climbs out and makes his way up the path, boots crunching on the gravel. With each step he takes your mind races, grasping for words, trying to brace for the conversation you know he’s here to have.

When he reaches the front porch, he pauses, hands on his hips as he lets out a long breath. His eyes flick to the window, and you step back instinctively, as though he might see you. 

You feel a sharp pang in your chest, the past month of silence cracking open like fresh heartbreak. Then he’s knocking, the sound a low, insistent rhythm that echoes through the house, reaching you where you stand, rooted in place.

You take a deep, steadying breath, one hand reaching to your chest as if to calm the beat of your heart. You can’t avoid him now. Whatever he has to say, you need to hear it. Your fingers wrap around the doorknob, twisting it as you remind yourself to stand strong, to keep your heart guarded.

With one last breath, you open the door, meeting Tyler’s gaze—the same gaze that’s held you and let you go too many times to count. Tyler’s eyes find yours, raw and pleading, and his face softens in a way you haven’t seen in a long time. He takes a shaky breath, his words tumbling out in a rush like he’s been holding them back for too long. 

“I know I messed up. I know I’ve given you every reason to walk away,” he begins, his voice low and thick with emotion. “But I can’t lose you. I can’t…not like this.”

His hands run through his hair, and for a second, he looks at the ground, gathering himself. When he looks back up, his eyes glisten, and he steps closer, his words growing more insistent. 

“These last few months, you not talking to me… I can’t even explain how much that hurt. How much I’ve missed you—missed everything we had. I kept thinking, maybe if I left you alone, you’d be better off. But I was wrong, and now I can’t stand not being near you.”

He takes another breath, his voice catching slightly as he adds, “I want to come home. I want to be with you. I want to come back and stay this time…if you’ll have me.”

You feel your heart stutter, your mind racing to process what he’s just said. You’ve wanted to hear those words so many times before, but now…now that he’s here, your defenses come rushing up. 

You try to keep your voice steady, shaking your head as you take a step back. “Tyler…you don’t just get to come back whenever you feel like it. You left. You made that choice, and I—” But you stop, seeing the way he looks at you, eyes shining with the tears he’s trying to keep back.

He’s holding his breath, his chest rising and falling like he’s struggling to hold himself together. The vulnerability in his face hits you like a wave, breaking down the walls you’ve been trying so hard to build.

“Please,” he whispers, voice barely above a breath. “I know I don’t deserve it, but I…I just need you to know that you’re it for me. You’re home. Not just this house or the land…you, darlin’. Anywhere you are, that’s where I want to be. I don’t want to run anymore.”

You feel a knot in your chest tighten, torn between the longing in his words and the pain of what’s happened.

“Tyler,” you begin, voice unsteady, “I can’t do this again. I can’t open myself up just to watch you walk away.”

His hand reaches out, hesitating before he rests it on your arm, his thumb tracing a gentle line along your skin. “I’m not going anywhere this time,” he says softly, his voice trembling. “Not unless you tell me to.”

The look in his eyes tells you he’s here, truly here, every bit of himself laid bare for you. And for the first time, you see a man who’s willing to fight—fight to be with you, fight for a future together, fight to make up for every broken promise.

You cross your arms over your chest, the weight of his words sitting heavy in the air between you. For a second, it almost feels like you can’t breathe. His words are exactly what you’ve wanted to hear, but there’s still a part of you that’s scared—scared to believe him, scared to fall for this all over again. You take a step back, trying to distance yourself from the emotions that have flooded your chest.

“How do I know?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper but carrying the weight of every question you’ve been holding onto. “How do I know this time is going to be different? How do I know you’re not just saying what I want to hear, again?”

He pauses, his face tightening for a brief moment, before his eyes soften, his sincerity cutting through the uncertainty. “All I can do is prove it to you,” he says quietly. His words are steady, but there’s an ache beneath them, something that makes your heart skip. “I can’t change the past, but I can damn sure try to make up for it.”

He glances toward his truck, his hand dropping to the side before he looks back at you. “I brought an extra bag with me this time,” he says, his voice steady with a quiet determination. “I was hoping you’d let me leave it here. Maybe when I come back in a couple weeks I could come back with the rest of my stuff…and that you’ll let me stay.” He looks at you, his eyes open and honest, no pretense, no bravado—just the raw truth of a man who wants nothing more than to rebuild what he lost.

You feel the sharp sting of his words sink into you, and for a moment, you’re speechless. Tyler Owens, the man who once seemed so lost, so unsure of anything but the moment, is telling you he’s ready to plan. You feel the ground beneath you shift as he continues.

“I’ve talked to Boone, Lily, Dexter, and Dani about it,” he says, almost as if it’s something he’s already put in motion. “I’ve been thinking about moving up here, about making it work. I know it’s not just about me anymore. I know what I did, and I know what it’s going to take for you to trust me again. I want to be here, with you. And I’ve already been figuring out how I can make it work with storm chasing. With the team.”

The weight of his words hits you like a freight train. Tyler, who’d never seemed the type to plan, to make a life out of more than just surviving, is telling you that he’s thought ahead. He’s thought about you—about living with you. The logistics of his work, where he’d fit in with the team, how he could make it all work—things he’d never even considered before.

He never once brought up the idea of moving in, of building a future with you, before. Now, he’s here, telling you that he’s ready. And as much as your heart aches with uncertainty, something inside of you can’t help but feel the tiniest thread of hope tugging at you.

You swallow the lump in your throat, trying to find the right words, trying to keep your guard up, even as your heart beats louder with each passing second.

“How do I know this is real?” you whisper, your voice breaking slightly.

Tyler’s eyes are locked on yours, his expression soft and full of sincerity, the words that leave his lips quiet but sure. “You’ll know by what I do. Not by what I say.”

As you stand there, the flickering hope mingling with every guarded part of you, you can’t hold back anymore. You have to ask him, to hear him explain it in a way that might finally make sense.

“Why, Tyler?” you say, your voice laced with hurt and frustration. “Why do you do this? The hot and cold? Coming back and then leaving just when I start to trust that you’ll stay? Why am I never enough for you to choose me?”

Your words hang in the air, heavy, but Tyler doesn’t flinch. He looks at you, and for a moment, you see something raw and vulnerable cross his face—an expression you don’t think you’ve seen before. He takes a shaky breath, his hands running through his hair as he struggles to find the words.

“It’s not that you’re not enough,” he says, his voice soft but resolute. “You’ve always been enough—more than enough. It’s me who hasn’t been enough. I’ve been scared… scared of needing someone the way I need you, of letting myself feel things that deep. I kept convincing myself that I’d be fine on my own, that I didn’t need anyone, but that was never true.”

He pauses, glancing away before he meets your gaze again, his eyes intense and filled with regret.

“Seeing you moving on, watching you with him tonight…” He trails off, swallowing hard. “It made me feel something I never want to feel again. The thought of you with anyone else—it made me sick. It took almost losing you for me to see that I can’t keep doing this. That if I kept running, I was going to lose you, really lose you. And I’d have no one to blame but myself.”

He reaches for your hand, his fingers hesitant at first, as if he’s waiting for you to pull away. When you don’t, he takes your hand fully, his grip firm yet gentle.

“I know it doesn’t excuse anything,” he admits, voice heavy with sincerity. “I know I messed up. But being without you, thinking I’d lost you for good… it’s been hell. And if there’s any part of you that can still trust me, even a little, I want to show you that I’m ready to be here for real. To stay. I can’t keep running from the one thing that matters most to me.”

Tyler’s gaze doesn’t waver from yours as he takes a slow step closer, his hands resting at his sides, waiting. He opens his mouth, then closes it, the tension in the air so thick you could almost touch it. When he finally speaks, his voice is quiet, but you can hear the vulnerability underneath.

"Please, just… give me a chance," he says, his words hanging in the air.

You swallow hard, your heart caught in a war between hope and doubt. You’ve been hurt before, but everything in you is screaming to believe him. You close your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, feeling the weight of everything that’s happened, everything that’s led to this moment. And then you open your eyes again, meeting his gaze.

"Tyler," you begin, your voice softer now, but still firm. "This is your last chance. If you mess this up, there’s no coming back from it. I can’t keep doing this. I won’t."

He nods immediately, his face lighting up with the smallest hint of relief. "I swear, I won’t. I won’t mess it up." His voice is more confident now, as if something in him has shifted—something that wasn’t there before.

You feel a knot in your chest loosen, though doubt still clings at the edges. But as you stand there, looking at him—really looking at him, all of the pain, the fear, and the uncertainty—starts to fade away. It’s like for the first time in so long, you feel like you can let your guard down, just a little. You give a small nod, the corners of your lips lifting despite the tears threatening to fall.

"I’m trusting you," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Don’t make me regret it."

Tyler doesn’t say a word. Instead, he steps in closer, his hands gently cupping your face, as if he’s scared you might disappear if he doesn’t hold on to you. His thumb brushes along your cheekbone, a slow, tender motion. The air between you both feels charged, full of something real, something raw, something that hasn’t been there in so long.

And then, without another word, he leans down, his lips finding yours in a kiss that’s soft but intense. His mouth moves against yours with such tenderness, like he’s trying to pour everything into it—his apology, his promises, his love—everything he’s been holding back. You melt into the kiss, feeling his warmth, his sincerity, his desire for you.

The kiss deepens slowly, as if testing the waters, but it’s gentle, filled with the kind of care and emotion that you’ve been missing for so long. And in that moment, all of the fear and doubt you’ve been carrying seems to dissolve, replaced by something that feels like home.

When the kiss finally breaks, you both stand there for a few moments, foreheads resting against each other, breathing the same air. Tyler smiles against your skin, and you can feel the weight of everything shifting.

"I won’t mess this up," he whispers again, his voice thick with emotion. And for the first time in a long while, you believe him.

[sakashq]

▮ make it to the morning. / pedri gonzalez x black!reader

ᝰ word count: ≈800

ᝰ summary: you and your boyfriend get into an argument, but he doesn’t take you seriously.

ᝰ yap!: umm dont hate me for this one! and yes this is based off of “make it to the morning” by pnd, im OBSESSEDDD. dedicated to pedri’s gf @planetpedri &&. my loves @ar4ujos , @halfwayhearted , @szalovebot !

Your boyfriend Pedri was driving while you sat in the front seat. You had already had a bad day at work, and all while you were telling him this, he got distracted by his phone.

“Are you fucking serious?” You frustratedly chuckled, looking over at him.

His eyes stopped on you briefly before looking back at the road, pulling into the neighborhood of his house. “What?” He glanced at his phone again, then looked back up.

“I’m trying to talk to you and you’re fucking texting and driving, trying to get us both killed.” It almost sounded like you were joking, the way your tone was playful, laced with the slightest bit of anger and annoyance.

“I’m just… asking Gavi about the plans for tomorrow. I’m sorry, babe, keep talking,” Pedri responded, this time looking over at you for longer and setting his phone down. He kept his gaze on the street though, driving through slowly.

You raised a brow, asking, “What plans?”

The dark haired man stayed silent, his eyes now locked on what was in front of him.

“Hello? I’m speaking,” you snapped a finger in front of his face, waiting for his answer.

“Me, Gavi, and some of the guys wanna go out tomorrow,” he shrugged, answering nonchalantly.

You had to stop yourself from snapping at him, instead saying, “So instead of listening to me tell you about my day you were texting your friends about plans I didn’t even know about. ‘Kay, Pedri.”

“I was gonna tell you,” Pedri immediately replied, a defensive sound in his voice.

“Bullshit,” you rolled your eyes, looking away from him and out of your window.

He didn’t say anything for a few seconds. As he pulled into the driveway, he said, “Y/n. Y/n, talk to me.”

You didn’t respond, getting out of the car immediately, grabbing your stuff and bringing it up to the door. You fiddled with the key trying to unlock the door, as a frustrated Pedri walked up to you.

“Hello? I’m speaking,” he retorted, a pit of anger piling up in his stomach. “I don’t get why you’re mad at me.”

Again, dodging him, you unlocked the door and walked into the house. You didn’t even bother to grab your keys afterwards, making him do it. You set your bags down on the kitchen counter and headed upstairs into his bedroom to sit down.

He knew where you were, following you up there after he locked the front door and set his stuff down. “Babe,” he tried again as he walked into the bedroom. He sat himself next to you, apologizing. “Baby, I’m sorry. Tell me what I did.”

You scoffed at first, but when you saw the upset look in his eyes, you decided to just answer him. “I was trying to fucking talk to you and you were ignoring me.”

“I was trying to get me and Gavi’s plans straight,” he defended himself. “I was still listening. Dios mío, llevas las cosas tan lejos.” He mumbled that last part under his breath, hoping you didn’t hear him.

You eyed him, knowing you didn’t fully understand what he was saying, but could grasp some parts of it. “Excuse you? Speak up.”

“Can you just save this for the morning? I’m tired, babe,” He groaned.

That set you off—who did he think he was trying to push off a problem he caused? “Fine. Bye, Pedro.” You got up from the bed, walking out of the room and downstairs.

“Wait, no, Y/n,” his voice sounded from behind you. “I don’t wanna fight, please.”

You ignored him, your face burning with anger. You began grabbing your stuff off of the counter, along with your keys Pedri had set next to the items.

“Y/n,” he gently grabbed your wrist, nearly forcing you to turn around.

“What?” You shouted at him, turning around to see… a ring?

He looked at you, really looked at you for the first time that night. He couldn’t help but smile, seeing your reaction. “This was the plan.”

“A promise ring?” Suddenly your anger died down, being replaced with a sense of adoration.

“We obviously can’t get married yet, but I want you to be the one when we get to that point. I wanted this to be a bigger surprise obviously, but I didn’t want you going home mad at me,” he spoke softly, no longer having a grasp of your wrist. “It’s only you, Y/n. It’ll only ever be you. I want you to promise that it’ll only be me.”

You hugged him before you could say anything, wrapping your arms around his neck. With your face nuzzled into him, you mumbled, “I love you forever. I promise.”

[sweetbunpura]

I've Had Enough of You

I was just with the idea of Fellow using the puppetfied versions of the boys to attack Yuu, who came to fight Fellow (and buy the others more time). He surprised to see how effortlessly she fight them and was very unaware of how strong and agile the human is.

"I thought you said you were magicless!" Fellow yelled as he fearfully watched the fight unfold.

Yuu slams Jade into the ground and wraps her legs around Cater's head before throwing her weight back and slamming him into the floor. "I am."

"Yuu-chan." Cater painfully whines. "We can still feel this."

"Indeed." Jade coughs.

"Sorry." She blocks Lilia's hit, sweeps his legs out from under him and tosses the fear at Leona. "I'll make it up to you guys later."

"You best." Lilia responded as he lay upside down.

Yuu made fast tracks to Fellow onto to get grabbed by Leona. She could feel him try to fight back against the magic as his muscles strained to let her go.

The lion beastman growled. "I know you can get you of this."

"I know, sorry in advanced." Yuu threw her weight back and tossed both of them on the ground, where she rolled out of his grip.

"How!?" Fellow's tail was fluffed up as Yuu approached him, only to be stopped by Floyd appearing in front of her.

"This ain't cool..." He whined. "I gotta fight Shrimpy?"

"Sorry, Floyd."

Yuu heard the sounds of the others getting up behind her and she rolled her neck. She tossed aside her hat and jacket, showing the muscles to a now very scared Fellow.

"You're not human..."

"I very much am." Yuu smirks and bounced on her feet before raising up her hands. "You just never asked if I was just a student."

Yuu to Fellow:

[theonlymanny]

Bruce’s oldest son

You’ve been with your father Bruce since he was 22. At this time Bruce thought you were an error and sometimes tried to get rid of you. If it weren’t for Alfred you would’ve been in an orphanage.

You turned 14 when Bruce came back from his training he tried to talk to you be a better father then he was In the past. You didn’t respond why? Were you supposed to forget what happened? Hell no.

Now when he became Batman he told you, he trusted you with his life. He wanted for you a good future. You gave him an opportunity and helped him while he was fighting crime of course you couldn’t fight like he could, but you could make gadgets for him. Like the electrified batarang.

Once you met Bruce’s first adopted son Dick you wanted to be the best older brother. Teaching him a lot of stuff and created for him (against your will) gadgets that would help him and Bruce fight crime together. You did feel left behind, watching Bruce and the kid that he just knew have a stronger connection makes you feel jealous.

A couple of years later you met Jason your second youngest brother who was a pain in the ass. You tried to get close to him he would yell at you. Talk to him he would try to punch you and it was like that since he became a robin. But one time that he didn’t know you knew Bruce was Batman he said bad stuff about you.

“Like I don’t understand why do he keeps talking to me! He is just weaker and dumber and ugh!” Dick snarled at that “hey don’t talk to M/n like that!” You entered the room making everyone silent. “Don’t worry Dick I’m fine. And Jason I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want…” you had A hurt expression on your face Dick was mad and Jason felt even angrier. “I don’t understand why are you so important to them! You’re worthless and do not know what suffering is I don’t even know how anybody likes you you’re just a crybaby asking for attention!” Wow… that really hurt…

After like 3 years you left for college. Almost all your family was going to miss you. Not Jason Todd. It was like that for sometime, you called they asked you how were you feeling and how were you doing.

Now you did discover some stuff about you, like you could use magic! And had un-human speeds. And elasticity. Okay you had a lot of powers but It didn’t mean you were the strongest being in the world no. If you could barely use your magic and elasticity imagine the other powers.

“M/n… I really miss you umm s-something I-is going o-on!” Dick said while he started to cry “what’s wrong Dick!?” You asked him. Dick told you that Jason was captured and they couldn’t find him.

You were lost, where could Jason be? You searched every building in Gotham and you were at the last building. “I really hope is this one” after sometime searching in the building you heard screaming and crying. “Jason!” Before the joker could react you shot him with your magic

“get out of here!” Jason was hesitant if he should go “what are you going to do! I can’t just leave you!” While the joker let poison was on the room. you covered his mouth with a peace of rope. “ugh- listen you need to get out of here” you said while coughing loudly. Jason couldn’t leave he heard you fight with the Joker.

It’s almost over you did what you could, but you had a plan you were going to push Joker out the window with your legs and run as fast as you can. Why? Because there was a fucking bomb inside the building. That fight was really hard, not only were you breathing in poison gas but you were bleeding out.

The Joker was about to hit you with a nearby chair. “leave him alone!” Jason stabbed the joker in the back. “You rascal you’re going to have the same fate as your brother!” he hit Jason with the chair in his back “Jason!”

While you tried to pick up Jason the Jocker grabbed you and punched you in the face. “Ugh!” Fuck Bruce’s rule! You shot magic through his stomach killing him in the process. “Jason I told you to leave!” “ I couldn’t leave you just like that.” Before the Jason said something else you heard a tick. “Shut-” before Jason knew what happened you grabbed him and protected him with your elasticity powers.

Jason woke up to see a burning building. “ Yes! We did it M/n! M/n?” Jason couldn’t found you. “M/n!” Before Jason could keep searching Bruce and Dick showed up. “ Jason how are you alive?” Dick said before hugging him. “M/n! We need to find him! H- he was with me inside!” Bruce and Dick were shocked that you were here. “No he is supposed to be alive! I saw him! He killed the joker!” Jason screamed before breaking down in Dick’s arms. “I’m sorry Jason…” Dick said while looking at Bruce. Bruce looked lost he had a blank and hurt expression mixed together. “Let’s go home.”

—————————————

Hey y’all! I just wanted to say that this was supposed to be a fluffy story where it was Male Wayne Reader x Superman so… yeah I kind of switched in the beginning. I’m also currently working on the male reader x Bruce Wayne story. I had this story in my drafts and I decided to continue it. Thank you hope you enjoy!

[lemotmo]

They just don't get it. They intentionally don't want to get it. It's bizarre. The Max thing was spot on and I never thought of that before!

Q. I'm going to ask this with good intentions so hopefully you respond with equally good intentions. I don't understand how you all can honestly say they didn't have any buildup because I'm sorry they did. And they ended episode 5 in a truly good and sweet place so breaking them up in the very next episode was indeed a weird and out of nowhere choice. And I understand you're all excited, odd way to truly show love for Buck but that's not my business I guess. But Ryan pretty clearly shut down the Buddie stuff in his interviews So I don't know why you're so convinced.

A. Anon, I always attempt to answer asks with good intentions. But it's difficult not to sound perplexed when answering asks you know the sender doesn't actually believe themselves. They had absolutely no build up. You all keep throwing that word around and not a single one of you have offered any kind of example as to the build up you're talking about. The man was barely ever on screen. Buck barely ever spoke about him when he wasn't on screen. Build up is impossible if neither one of those things are occurring.

They met. They had a misunderstanding of a first kiss. They had a terrible first date that ended with Buck standing alone on a curb. Buck had a lovely conversation with Maddie about said terrible date, but that was an accident. He went to her because he was upset about lying to Eddie. Maddie even told Buck he wasn't sure of his own feelings ( I admit that personally I always leaned more into Maddie was probably talking about Buck not being sure of his attraction to a man in the first place, but Maddie has had Buck's underlying Eddie thing pegged since her arrival and his first kiss with Tommy was entirely muddled by his obvious misplaced confusion regarding Eddie so it's even more likely Eddie is who she was talking about). She then told Buck if he decided he had something to tell Eddie then he would. The entire conversation was Eddie based. Tommy made a brief appearance at the bachelor party, didn't bother dressing for the occasion, looked bored, yawned and then went to fight a fire. He and Buck didn't have a single conversation. He showed up at the hospital wedding, had a second kiss so Buck could have a mass coming out (the point of that scene was to ensure that Eddie was the only one who Buck personally came out too. Eddie was the only one he wanted the actual conversation with. That was the point of the hospital scene). Buck and Tommy have a weird date in the season finale where Tommy briefly mentions issues with his father after Buck tries to initiate a conversation about Bobby. Then he made a daddy sex joke. He had one scene in the premier with Buck and Eddie and spoke two lines. 'That sounds like Gerard ' and 'you're a vision in a cone'. We don't see him again until 8x5. He briefly shows up at the hospital and joins with Eddie in mocking Buck for his belief in curses. We see him at the loft with Buck where he brings him an ice pack and ibuprofen (which Buck is likely allergic too) and then tells Buck to turn off his laptop and go to bed while Buck is trying to talk about the Billy Boils stuff he's looked up. We see him sitting at the table the next day while Eddie, who Tommy called btw, is tending to Buck's face. We see him at the hospital with the team being the only one who doesn't receive the group text about Denny, making it noticeable that Tommy is an outsider (the entire point of him being in that scene). Then we see him at the graveyard with Buck but he's in the background and blurry. It is a clear contrast to the Buck and Eddie graveyard scene from season 6 where Eddie is standing beside Buck at the gravestone. Both scenes were written by the same person so it was a clear, intentional parallel. In episode 6 we see their anniversary date. Tommy gave Buck basketball tickets, the audience knows Buck doesn't like basketball (everyone knew it was over in that moment). Buck learns that Tommy used to date Abby. Tommy tells him that Abby went nuts after he broke up with her and took up with some 'himbo' half her age. The audience knows he's talking about Buck. Buck goes to Maddie and then Josh with his concern. Josh gives a speech that is so blatantly about Eddie it's laughable, I'm ignoring the glee part because gross. Tommy shows up for a date. Buck does what Buck always does when he's unsure of his true feelings and tries to double down on the relationship. He asks Tommy to move in with him. Tommy tells him that he can't do that because he knows how their relationship ends. He tells Buck that he's his first not his last. Buck makes a point of saying some people can be both. The show makes a point of having Tommy say yes but not usually. It was intentional to force that dialogue exchange into that scene because although Eddie won't be Buck's first he will be his last. Buck will be Eddie's first AND his last. Making Buck the exception to the rule Tommy is telling him about. Even their breakup was used to foreshadow Buck and Eddie.

This was their entire canon relationship. Where is a single scene of build up? Where is a single scene of great potential? There isn't one. Because all this relationship ever was was Buck's bisexual realization. The show used it to finally make Buck aware of his attraction to men. The rest of the relationship was used to juxtapose the contrasts between Eddie and Tommy. The show purposely made them surface level similar so they could highlight their differences as far as Buck goes. Tommy was a plot point for Buck's storyline. And a subplot leading into the Buck and Eddie storyline. He was never a character in his own right. He never had agency. He was never anything other than a plot point for Buck. Everything you all are screaming about are Cameos you paid for and headcanons you invented. It was a relationship built entirely in your minds and through Lou's grifting of you. That's not our fault. That's not the show's fault. And it's definitely not Oliver's fault. It's your fault. And it is Lou's fault. You're entirely to blame for your pain.

I'm only going to add one thing regarding the interviews because I think we've all explained the interview things at nauseam at this point. But I will say this. Every interview Ryan does with Max comes off as weird. Every single one. Ryan always overcompensates in Max interviews because I think he goes into them automatically on the defensive. Max has openly talked about is dislike of Ryan and it's clear that Ryan is not comfortable during those interviews and it comes across in his responses. Everything sounds defensive in those interviews. I ignore those interviews entirely. The show really should stop forcing Ryan to talk to him, at least in my opinion. Anyway anon, you already knew all of this but I condensed it nicely for you. Enjoy!

Thanks Nonny! Much appreciated!

I don't understand how people can see buildup in a relationship that only got 41 minutes in total over a couple of episodes in season 7 and 8. All their scenes were awkward and devoid of any chemistry. In season 8 there wasn't even any physical contact anymore, besides a kiss on the cheek. That isn't buildup. That is plot device.

As for Max Gao? Yeah, ever since Max wanted to get an interview with Ryan a few years back and it didn't work out, he's been really obvious in his dislike for Ryan. It must be an uncomfortable situation for Ryan.

All of the other interviews? Just forget about them for a while. Read them, but take them with a big bag of salt and forget them. Focus on the show and the story they seem to be telling us. Follow the clues in the narrative. Don't listen too much to showrunners and actors. They will deflect if they feel someone might get too close to the truth.

We've had so many examples in the past of 911 actors talking about things that didn't turn out to be true. This is following the same pattern in my opinion.

IMPORTANT! Please don't repost this ask and/or a link that leads straight to my Tumblr account on Twitter or any other social media. Thank you!

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[like-rain-or-confetti]

Guess Who? (Batman Villains x reader)

"Heh! Like catching a spider!" The Riddler said proudly as he and various other rogues approached. Catching Batman's newest sidekick was rather soothing to their egos collectively. At least someone didn't kick their asses almost immediately. The group was sizing you up. "Now who could you be?" Scarecrow said, walking around the cell you were locked in. "Did always like a game of Guess Who when I was a kid." Penguin chuckled and took a drag of his cigar.

After a long piercing stare, the Riddler spoke. "It's a woman under there." The Riddler said flatly. "Smaller than the average male doesn't try to lift us like the others-" "Alright but what if its just a really small man under there?" Penguin responded, given he too was smaller than average male.

Before the Riddler could respond, The Mad Hatter spoke up. "What if it isn't a man or woman in there at all!?" He giggled with glee. Scarecrow sighed. "Jervis, we are several fights and arrests too far in to now be concerned with their pronouns of choice." You caught up with the groups implications. "Wait a second, are you suggesting I couldn't lift you, Nygma?" You asked. "Are you offended by that because you're a woman under there and think such a comment is degrading to your worth?" Edward retorted.

Jonathan raised a hand to Edward's face and sighed, hoping it'd silence him- a faint twinge of embarrassment bubbling in his gut. Quite the accomplishment for someone who was difficult to embarass...or maybe he was just pretending- the start of his manioulation. However, Scarecrow went ignored as you were up for the challenge. "No, it's just cute that you think it matters how I identify and regardless wouldn't be able to toss you like a frisbee." You replied smoothly.

The Riddler paused before he swatted Scarecrow's arm. "You're the psychiatrist, got any guesses?" "There is so much wrong with that Edward." Jonathan sighed. "Just because I have a doctorate, doesn't mean I can determine everything about them." "No!" Edward deadpanned. "I'm asking if you have any inclinations as to who they could be! Age range, all that!" "I'm not a profiler and I didn't know you were fond of stereotypes, Edward." "I hate you all so much." The Riddler replied pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes. "When I said guesses, Jonathan, I did not mean you had to diagnose or categorise them!"

"Why are you making this so difficult?" The Mad Hatter asked the group before turning around. "My dear, do you have a preference of identification? No wrong answers! Man? Woman? Genderfluid? Agender?" He paused. "Worm? Mouse? Card? If card, hearts, spades-" The Riddler cut Mad Hatter off. "Jervis, shut up! Regardless, there is a human in there!" "That's what they want you to think." Jervis eyed you. "Look!" Penguin cut in, holding out his gun. "It shouldn't matter! A Man- I can shoot. Woman- I can shoot. Worm- I can shoot. They have a bloody body, that means regardless I can shoot them!" Penguin said with exasperation. Jervis cut in again, completely ignoring Penguin and probably the others. "Do you have hair? Is it yellow...or any kind of blonde really?" Jervis looked at you eagerly. "They're not Alice!" Edward and Jonathan yelled out in frustration.

"Why don't we just go in a rip the mask off?" Penguin said. "Be my guest, Dent will appreciate the company nursing his still healing ribs." The Riddler retorted. "Along with Victor Zsasz." Scarecrow said. "And Professor Pyg." Jervis added. The Riddler held up his hand. "Don't mention that imbecile. He's still wailing about a wound on his arm. It's barely a scratch!"

Scarecrow suddenly groaned and rubbed his eyes. "Edward... you babble too much." He said. "Me!?" The Riddler gaped. "Yes, Jervis isn't sane enough to be blamed right now." Scarecrow sighed. "Blamed for what exactly?" The Riddler huffed. "For getting us caught." Scarecrow said. "...What?" The Riddler frowned. "Batman's in the corner, there." Scarecrow pointed to a dark corner of the room, two bright eyes visible in the corner. "...aw sh-" Penguin never got to finish the word before Batman lunged.

[male-readerwriter]

Johnny Storm x Male Reader

Title: BURNING LOVE!!

WARNING'S: Language, FLUFF, brief sexual thoughts, headcanons for Johnny Storm falling in love with male reader in the void, Romance

M/N= Male Reader Name/ Male Name.

First and third person POV

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

You were sent to the void after being caught stealing a rare diamond from a museum worth 35 million dollars, it wasn't the first time you've gotten in trouble for stealing- this was more like the 100th or 200th.

You were an international thief, you alone were able to pull off some of the most infamous and greatest robbery's ever. You were constantly in and out of prison but after this well- turns out they were sick of you breaking into places and stealing things so they ended up sending you to the void leaving you to rot with everything else they deemed trash.

You had heard of this place while in prison so you kinda knew it was only sooner or later until you were sent here but you never expected it to be this bad , things were constantly after you as if it wasn't bad enough that there was basically no food in this shit hole you had to deal with monsters, people, and animals chasing you trying to either kill or kidnap you to take you to some women named Cassandra Nova - who the fuck was that?

After a rough day of being chased by people and monsters alike you were getting exhausted and STARVING and you were suddenly getting very dizzy and you could have sworn you saw a man covered in flames flying through the sky fighting off the things chasing you, next thing you know you passed out.

You woke up to the smell of food and when you looked around and it was suddenly night time and you were in a place you didn't recognize, it looked like some type of hideout but nobody was their at least you thought. After rushing over to the food scarfing it down almost immediately a man's voice from behind you laughed saying "look's like someone's hungry".

Who the hell could that be? And what did he want, did he want to hurt me? Dropping the food out of my hand I turned around to see a muscular man in a blue shirt with a 4 on it, my heart skipped a beat. I was still terrified thinking of what he could do to me but damn was he sexy. He took a few steps towards me with his hand outstretched and a warm smile on his face- he seems friendly.

"Hey, I'm johnny. Nice to meet you" I allow him to take my hand, shaking it in a greeting manner "I'm M/N, sorry I was hungry" I respond. Something about this guy intimidated him in a good way.

"No, help yourself we got plenty" he giggles as he lets go of my hand, the smile this guy has is so warming it's lighting up my heart. My heart is beating out of my chest "how did I get here?" I ask taking a bite out of a big turkey leg.

He tells me how he found me and fought off the things after me then took me to his hideout, he says he stays here with a few friends he met who I soon meet named Elektra, Blade, X-23, and Gambit who was my personal favorite other than Johnny. After introducing themselves they all went off doing their own thing not wanting to overwhelm me, I continue eating more food still starving but Johnny stays by my side the entire time still chatting away. There's something about this guy that I immediately wanna cling to and he's not bad looking he can definitely manhandle me any time he pleases the- sorry got off track there, he's just that good looking.

We end up talking for 3 hours straight and I realize my dumb ass has already fallen in love with this man (even though I just met him) there was something about him and he was hot literally. I found out he was able to set his entire body in flames and he could fly all he had to do was say two little words "flame on".

He ended up showing me at a later time, he and his friends explained pretty much everything I need to know about the void then they told me I could stay with them but there was one little problem...

I had to share a bed with Mr. Johnny Storm.

I had no problem with that in any way shape or form neither did Johnny it seemed, though he had kept blushing the first couple of nights I shared a bed with him, after that he started acting a little awkward he'd start smiling everytime I came around, and he started playfully flirting I assumed. After a little while I started flirting back and every time I did he'd start blushing like crazy, which was really confusing considering the way he usually acted before he started flirting with me.

His behavior screamed fuckboy yet he wasn't a bad guy, he never acted like a pig he - seemed like a typical straight guy fuck boy. But he was the most perfect guy you'd ever met and it only made you fall for him more and more.

You assumed he was straight at least but one day when you were walking back into the hideout you heard everyone talking about you so you decided to stay hidden and listen. Somehow they figured out you had feelings for Johnny and before you could even be shocked by that Elektra commented how she knew Johnny had feelings for you as well.

You were flabbergasted, he felt the same way you did and yet he never knew the things you did, everytime he asked how you got sent to the void you changed the subject.

That's when you decided to tell him the truth, you were expecting judgment but surprisingly he was completely fine with it and he didn't care what you did saying you were still a good person at heart. After telling him that you found that it was much easier to open up to him and in no time you both confessed you have feelings for one another.

You were outside going for a walk with him playfully flirting with each other as usually when suddenly Johnny became quite. "Hey, what's on your mind?" You asked and before he could come up with some lame excuse he found himself saying "I have something important to tell you". That's when he told you he had feelings for you, he didn't just have feelings for you, he loved you.

"I'm in love with you M/N, I've been in love with you since the moment I first saw you're fine ass" he said giving your ass a nice smack, and that was the fuckboy part of him coming out but you still couldn't have been happier.

He asked you to be his boyfriend and you said yes, jumping at the opportunity to be in a relationship with Johnny. You were never this kind of guy to rush into some relationship all willy nilly but Johnny was different from any guy you'd ever met before, it was hard to explain -

He was just special, he was Johnny.

The others pretty much ended up finding out we were in a relationship immediately, even though we discussed not telling them at first but it was apparently way to hard for Johnny to keep his hands off me and keep his dirty jokes to himself. So everyone found out awkwardly standing around because Johnny was bad at keep secrets.

It happened I the morning-

He was the last to wake up and the first thing he did was wrap his arms around my waist and shove his head in the crook of my neck mumbling "Mornin babe" just loud enough for everyone to hear it and look over at us shocked we actually got together.

But after about a minute they got over the shock and congratulated us saying things like "about time" or Gambit trying to be sexual and make dirty jokes about the relationship but Johnny is always able to match his freak and make the same type of jokes back. Their banter is always fun to watch.

We all stuck together when we went out incase we had a run in with Cassandra Nova and her gang (I learned she was someone not to be messed with- she's professor X's brother and she's incredibly powerful so I'm the void that basically made her the HBIC and everyone feared her) Johnny liked to act like he wasn't scared of her and he had no problem voicing his hatred for her but I know him- if he had a one on one run in with her he'd most likely end up pissing himself.

There was never much to do in the void but he still tried to do special things for you, like date nights or a walking hand in hand at night when not many people were around to bother you both.

He seems like some typical fuck boy but you knew he was so much more, he was romantic and loved the attention you gave him literally any type of attention you gave him put a big smile on his face and a pink tint to his cheeks, he's such a dork.

He loves cuddles and so do you, it's both of your favorite thing to do to pass the time, well that and sex! you both are pretty wild in the bedroom, and luckily Johnny has a lot of stamina.

Whenever your together it's like time just stops and the only thing either of you care about is each other (you're so wrapped up in each other's little bubble, it's like you were made for each other) he never judged you for who you were even tho you were pretty much polar opposites and he's a hero and you used to be a villain -kinda- but that all changed after going to the void.

In this place you never know how much time you have like you can literally all die at any second, but it doesn't matter as long as you have him by your side you'd happily live in the moment and don't even think about what tomorrow could possibly bring.

He is my world, my human torch....

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

Oop.

Literally had no idea how to end this so that's why the ending is so abrupt sorry- also sorry for any spelling errors I didn't proof read.

Hope it was at least a little enjoyable, I'll be better in the future I haven't written in a bit sorry- 🤣 FEM READERS, AND MINORS DNI! go away-

[gingergofastboatsmojito]

Syd is the pattern breaker

Which is great news in terms of Sydcarmy ENDGAME.

It's not like we all, Sydcarmy truthers, haven't seen that one coming. Of course, we have always known this lady came to turn it all around in Carmy's world from the very get-go, it was always painfully obvious.

BUT

Here is another pattern that she has come to erase from the life of Carmy (and the show)

(He's fighting it like a champ, I must say)

Storer likes strong women who take charge and take the initiative to go after the men they love so the man doesn’t have to (in fiction, IDK about his real life). The guy is the one who gets to decide whether he accepts her advances or innuendos and responds to them, but he doesn’t really take the first step; she does.

Refer to my napkins theory (handkerchief section) please.

Exhibit A: Jess

Jess made it clear she was into Richie in 2x7. Also, at Syd's party. She is up for it and made it clear, even when Richie has not picked up her handkerchief yet.

I don't know about Tiff, nor do I care

Exhibit B: The C person

He created the C person and I will not elaborate on that one. Fuck her!

Exhibit C: Sugar

He created Sugar who is clearly the one who wears the pants in the relationship, and taking into account Pete’s personality, was probably the one who was all over him from day 1, and he was just like: “Yeah Nat, whatever you say, you’re so great, ILY.”

Exhibit D: Tina

He created Tina, same energy as Nat but her husband is no Pete, so I’m not sure about how her relationship with her husband began, I can only safely assume she always speaks her mind. So I’m sure she was open about her feelings when she met her husband, no riddles.

Exhibit E: Donna

He created Donna and same, there’s no version of the story where Donna was ever shy or quiet and not open, if not too open, about her feelings when she met Carmy’s dad (like you know who: the C person) and that’s probably why they got together to begin with and also one of the reasons why he left her eventually. She’s overwhelmingly vocal about how she feels for ppl because the excessive booze removes any social boundaries and barriers and she’s always ready to shout it in everyone’s face. That’s changing though. But that's how she was written into existence by Storer, to begin with.

The game changer → Sydney Adamu

So, that takes us to Syd who never openly flirted with Carmy, unless we count Pasta 2x2 (which I don’t).

And never really read the awkward signs he was trying to give her (which I hate but totally understand because they are business partners and she's a professional).

And so… we have a pattern breaker here. That in Storer’s book means MEAT.

We've reached the meat of the matter, chefs! YAY!

So, there are about a zillion foreshadowing leads we could analyze of how that game change in terms of the female role in the courtship dynamic will play out SOON, Storer wasn't precisely slick throughout the series, but the most obvious and recent one was brought to us hidden in plain sight, in S3 -3x5- and I already went over it here (my own RB notes from 7/27):

The point is that as the post it says: "ALL QUESTIONS ASK SYDNEY!"

That means that dynamic will have to be reversed for Sydcarmy to happen, CARMY WILL HAVE TO POP THE QUESTION. LOL!

No, not that question. Well... maybe eventually, but I'm actually talking about the CONFESSION and asking her out, asking her out on a date or something and I don't mean a symbolic date like the fucking funeral he completely ignored her at and where he then ditched her too. I'm talking about really and openly telling her how he feels for her, and exposing himself to her rejection. Not the other way around.

She has to enable this, of course, so in a sense, she will have to break her patterns for Carmy too, because love is an act of mirroring, as we all know by now.

But it´s Carmy who will have to grow a pair and put into words what has remained unspoken between them and is starting to decay inside -and it's ruining their whole relationship-. He will have to turn the dynamic around and take the role that Storer usually puts "strong women" in, and open up and go after who he wants. He will have to be the strong one and say it out loud. ASK ALL THE QUESTIONS because Syd has all the answers and her answers are the game changers of the show.

I wish it went like this (let's imagine Tanner is either Shapiro or Luca):

Fun fact: Demian Lewis said that he characterized Bobby Axelrod by playing him like a wild animal, tapping into that energy and bringing in it on set every day to play his scenes. He didn't say the beast was a bear though.

Bonus track: Ayo Edebiri. Ayo´s pattern is to be the pattern breaker of the plot. The → plot twist.

Ayo always plays the game-changer character. In Omni Loop, she did too, I'm sure her next movie with Luca Guadagnino will be the same thing. She is drawn to that type of characters and plays them beautifully.

Remember to follow my tag #Gingerpovs💋

[someonehugratchet]

Ratchet who was neutral in the war.

He was neither Autobot nor Decepticon, but a medic for those who were caught between fire fights or who couldn’t fight. Sparklings, injured civilians, lower class citizens who couldn’t get shelter from either side for whatever reason.

Ratchet would go out himself and find them, brining them back to one of several hidden infirmaries he set up with volunteers and past students of his.

First Aid always stayed in the biggest one, which held all the sparklings as it was the safest.

Fixit would sneak between them all to make sure that all the set false safes were in order. He helped show the little ones where to gin in the case of an attack.

He believed Optimus Prime wanted to help, but the mech was too busy fighting the fight to be able to spare much time on the broken bots that had a chance.

They knew each other and Prime had worked to keep their bases a secret even as Ratchet resumed to let them sway him into fighting with them.

Megatron’s men were allowed only in one base where other soldiers were kept, guarded by Pharma and Remedy both. Autobots and Decepticon both had an understanding that it was neutral ground and no fights would be had, the two keeping in seperate wings of the fragile clinic.

That understanding was crushed after one fateful cycle.

Ratchet had responded to First Aids distress signal as quick as he could, travelling over half of Cybertron to get to the infirmary as quick as he could.

He arrived just in time to see Shockwave leaving.

With dread in his spark he had rushed through a secret exit and into the main room and instantly fell to his knees.

Over two hundred sparklings lay desecrated in the entire place.

Most of them were missing some part of their body, some burnt into nothing.

Ratchet only made a noise, a wailing sound of pure grief, when he saw the remains of First Aid clutching three little ones.

All dead.

His screams had only grown in intensity as he looked around the room and found that Pharma and Remedy had come to aid and fallen as well.

Ratchet could have stayed there and rusted over if he hadn’t notice some of his patients weren’t there, hope burning his spark as I rushed to the feeds to try and figure out where they had gone.

He watches the footage with grime determination even as he feels his spark shattering into pieces.

It falters for several moments when he watches Shockwave order some of his men to take some of the sparklings. He hears the disturbing mech say something about ‘suitable test subjects’ and feels the energon in his systems freeze. Ratchet’s heard of what Shockwave has done, how the unfeeling monster doesn’t care for the notion of ethical conduct and onto for results.

Eventually Optimus as some of his most trusted come by the hidden location in the hopes of stopping a massacre, only to find Ratchet sitting on the floor with the body of a sparkling in his hands.

He had tried to bring the femme back after seeing a slight flux in her tiny spark, but it was useless.

Bumblebee is hurt the most as it was the same clinic he had been raised in before he became a scout, seeing Ratchet work for years and being the main reason they had even known something was wrong.

He falls to his knees as Elita moves to check for Decepticons, if only to distract herself.

Optimus approaches Ratchet with grief in his spark, carefully removing the deceased sparkling from his hold.

“I… I am truely sorry, old friend.”

Ratchet looks up and sees Orion Pax, the young mechling who had once asked him for an autograph.

When he speaks it’s distant, like his mainframe as gone on autopilot, “He took some of the sparklings. We need to find them.”

Optimus nods, helping him stand on unsteady pedes, “We will, I swear we will it stop until we have.”

Ratchet looks at Optimus with a fire in his eyes, “I know. But Optimus, I don’t care about you code. I don’t care about your morals or war crimes, Shockwave will pay for this.”

For the first time since the war began, the Prime looked around the room and nodded with a darkness over his optics.

“You are right. They have gone too far to deserve honour.”

[peppymintdreams]

pickle overworks

I’m tired of this grandpa

Isaac Rhoades x Pickle

Pickle is overworked and honestly so am I but I love yall and will write what you guys asked for

lately, he couldn’t help but notice the signs of strain. The late nights, the bleary eyes, the quiet sighs when they thought no one was watching. It was becoming clear that Pickle was pushing themselves too hard, even though they wouldn’t admit it.

Isaac watched from the doorway as they sat at the kitchen table, laptop open and papers scattered around them. It was well past midnight, and Pickle was hunched over, fingers typing furiously, a deep crease forming between their brows. The soft glow of the screen was the only light in the room, casting shadows under their eyes that made Isaac’s chest tighten.

He knew that look too well—the focused, almost frantic energy of someone who didn’t know how to stop, even when their body was begging for a break. It was a trap he had fallen into countless times himself, which made it even harder to stand by and watch.

Isaac cleared his throat, stepping into the room. “You’re still working?”

Pickle barely looked up, waving him off. “Just a little longer. I’m almost done.”

“That’s what you said three hours ago,” Isaac said, his tone calm but firm as he approached the table. He rested a hand on the back of their chair, his thumb brushing lightly against their shoulder. “Pickle, you’ve been at this for days. You need to take a break.”

“I’m fine,” they muttered, their eyes still glued to the screen. “I just need to finish this one thing, and then I’ll stop. Promise.”

Isaac frowned, his grip on their shoulder tightening slightly. He could hear the exhaustion in their voice, see it in the way their hands trembled just the slightest bit as they typed. But they were stubborn—just as stubborn as he could be when it came to overworking.

He crouched down beside them, gently turning their chair so they were forced to face him. Pickle’s tired eyes met his, and Isaac could see the cracks in their resolve—the weariness, the tension, the frustration at their own limitations.

“Look at me,” Isaac said softly, his voice steady and unyielding. “You’re overworking yourself. You’re running on fumes, and it’s not sustainable. You need to rest.”

Pickle’s lips pressed into a thin line, their gaze dropping to their lap. “I can’t stop now, Isaac. There’s too much to do. If I don’t finish this—”

Isaac shook his head, cutting them off. “You won’t be able to finish anything if you burn yourself out. You know that.”

There was a long pause, the air between them thick with unspoken tension. Pickle’s hands clenched into fists, their knuckles white. Isaac could see the battle they were waging with themselves—the fear of letting go, of not being enough, of falling behind. It was a familiar fight, one he knew all too well.

He softened his tone, reaching out to take one of their hands in his. “You don’t have to carry everything on your own, Pickle. It’s okay to rest. It’s okay to step back.”

For a moment, they didn’t respond, their eyes darting between Isaac and the pile of work on the table. Finally, with a shaky exhale, Pickle closed the laptop and let their shoulders sag, as if the weight of the world had finally caught up with them.

“I don’t know how to stop,” they admitted quietly, their voice barely above a whisper.

Isaac squeezed their hand, his thumb brushing gently over their knuckles. “You don’t have to do it alone,” he said softly. “Come here.”

He pulled them into a gentle embrace, his arms wrapping around them in a way that made it impossible for them to keep resisting. Pickle melted into him, their head resting against his chest as they let out a shaky breath. Isaac’s hand moved to the back of their neck, his fingers threading through their hair in a soothing rhythm.

“You’re allowed to take care of yourself,” he whispered, his voice a steady presence against the storm of their thoughts. “You don’t have to be everything, all the time.”

Pickle closed their eyes, their body finally relaxing in his arms as they allowed themselves a moment of vulnerability. It wasn’t easy for them to admit when they were struggling, but with Isaac, they knew they didn’t have to pretend to be strong all the time.

Isaac held them close, his cheek resting against the top of their head. He didn’t push them to talk or to explain. He simply stayed with them, offering the kind of quiet, unwavering support that they had always given to him.

“I’ll help you,” Isaac murmured after a while. “But right now, you need to sleep. Everything else can wait.”

Pickle nodded against his chest, the fight draining out of them as they finally let themselves lean into him. Isaac stood, guiding them gently toward the bedroom. He pulled back the covers, watching as Pickle crawled in, their exhaustion now visible in every movement.

Once they were settled, Isaac sat beside them on the edge of the bed, brushing a stray strand of hair away from their face. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said softly. “I’ve got you.”

Pickle’s eyes fluttered shut, their breathing slowing as the weight of the day finally began to fade. Isaac stayed by their side, his hand resting lightly on their shoulder, keeping them grounded as they drifted off to sleep.

As he watched them relax, Isaac couldn’t help but feel a surge of protectiveness. He would make sure they took the time to rest, to heal. Because they didn’t have to do it all alone—not when he was there to help carry the load.

And tonight, at least, he would make sure they found peace in that

[sondheim-girly]

@outsidersweek heres my absurdly late submission for day five!! heres the masterpost for this fic

September 1967

Marcia

The Monday after Bob died, none of her friends went to school. They instead decided to go to Pershing park, trying to find some consolation there. Marcia’s head was buried in Trips' shoulder, their arms wrapping around each other for any sense of comfort they could find. Marcia eventually pulled away from him, and went over to where Cherry was sitting. She and Bev fixed the letterman jacket that was wrapped around the grieving girls’ shoulders and smoothed down her hair as Paul started talking, his eyes filled with a violent anger. 

“This can’t be real. He can’t be gone, and I don’t know how we just carry on, this could’ve happened to anyone! But here we are, can’t be undone.”

Cherry stared straight ahead and whispered to herself, “What have we done?”

Paul heard her, and turned to face Cherry, “We were only having fun.”

“You were only having fun?” She responded in disbelief,

“Just hanging out, just horsing ‘round, doing what we’ve always done.”

Cherry stood up, and started walking away from the group. “Bob was drinking, you were drinking too! And tell me what’s so fun about a fight that’s five on two? What’d you think that boy was gonna do, he lived his life scared to death after what you put him through!” Marcia stared at Cherry wide eyed, shocked at what she was saying. No one had ever talked to their friends like that.

“Bob went crazy when he saw you with that greaser kid.” Paul said as he started making his way closer to Cherry, and Marcia ran over to her friend. “You held his hand at the concession stand, we saw it all, you know just what you did!” He accused, as their friends all angrily nodded along with him. Cherry took a step back, fear filling her eyes.

“You guys were loud that night! Out looking for a fight!” Cherry took Marcia’s hand, and Marcia could see Trip shaking his head from the side of her eye. “The two of us just stayed behind, you couldn’t stand to leave those boys alone!”

“You and pony holding hands! I don’t think you understand, Bob was not a jealous man! Cherry what you did that night was wrong.” Bev stepped out for a moment to grab Marcias wrist and tug her into the crowd, away from Cherry. Marcia ripped her arm out of Bevs grasp, before attempting to move towards Cherry again. Paul was standing in front of her though, preventing Marcia from moving away.

“You should be as mad as me at this senseless tragedy! Bob didn’t need to die!!” Paul circled around away from Cherry, going to stand on the fountain as their friends gathered around him, hungry fire in their eyes. Brill came over, glaring at Marcia, before he turned away and went to Cherry. Marcia stared in horror as Brill tried to take Bob's letterman jacket off of Cherrys shoulders, but she flinched back, not letting him any closer. Brill walked away and went to join the rest of their friends who were gathered around Paul.

“The greasers crossed a line! We could sit here asking why, or we could send them back a message! Take an eye for an eye!” Paul declared, to rousing cheers from his friends.

Marcia turned to Cherry, who looked completely horrified. She held her hand out to Marcia so they could leave, and Marcia looked back at her friends. If she left now, Trip might break up with her. Bev would shun her. All of her friends would see her as a traitor. She wanted to move, but her feet stayed planted in place, her eyes trying to communicate to Cherry how sorry she was. Cherry stepped back, her face holding a betrayal and a sorrow that sent shots through Marcia’s heart. She turned around to leave, and Marcia felt violent tears rise up through her throat. When she looked over at her friends she vaguely saw Paul pointing out something, and a fresh wave of horror hit her.

It all happened too fast. Her friends ran at Two-Bit, and she could see the moment he realized what was happening. He tried to run away, but Brill and Chet grabbed his arms and slammed him down onto the concrete. She stepped forward- she had to do something- but she stopped in her tracks when she saw Chet stare her down, a warning in his eyes. Brill was holding Two-Bit down, but Trip was the one who punched him flat across the face. Marcia had never seen Trip like this. She felt sick. Two-Bit went rolling, then got up and ran at Chet, tackling the boy to the ground. Brill and Trip pulled him off and onto his back, and Marcia tried to take another few steps forward. Why couldn't she do anything?? Brill was pinning down Two-Bits arms, and Chet was holding his legs. Paul set his foot on Two-Bits chest, and issued his warning:

“Next saturday night! Pershing park! All out war is officially declared!!” And then Paul forced his entire body weight on Two-Bits chest, before stepping off with a laugh. Trip went down to pin one of Two-Bits arms. Marcias frantic gaze shifted to Bev, who had a vicious grin on her face. She was leaning down to Two-Bit, a light cigarette in hand. Marcia felt lightheaded watching as her friend, her friend, pressed a cigarette to an innocent boy's forehead. The scream that echoed through the park was something that would haunt Marcia until the day she died. Her friends finally let go of the boy, and he rolled onto his stomach. They were all whooping and laughing victoriously, and Marcia vaguely felt Brill take her arm and start to drag her into his car. She was stuffed into the backseat next to Trip. He put his arm around her waist. His knuckles were covered in blood, and he was smiling. He was proud of his hatred and his violence, and he was touching her. The next thing Marcia knew, she was yelling at Brill to stop the car and let her out.

Two-Bit

Everything hurt. His ribs. The burn on his face. The cuts on his face from those boys rings. Two-Bit tried to push down the pain as he slowly crawled to the edge of the park, he had to figure out where to go now. His first thought was the Curtis house, but with everything that those brothers were going through right now, they didn’t need anything else to worry over. Home it was, then. He was just attempting to stand when he heard something behind him. He turned around, ready to fight whoever it was that had come for round 2. But it wasn’t anything like that.

Marcia was standing there, and her face was full of pain. He wondered for a moment if she'd finally decided to join in on her friend's fun, but when he looked into her eyes, he doubted that. 

“Hey doll” he rasped, “need something?”

“I want to help.” Marcia choked out.

“That so? Then why didn’t you say so earlier.” He joked, but his words were laced with something more serious.

“I was…” she started, but she cut herself off with a shake of her head. “It doesn’t matter, I’m here now.”

“True enough,” he admitted jokingly,

Marcia looked at him for a moment, then asked, “do you need help getting home?”

Two attempted to take a step so he could prove he was ok, “I’m fi-” he started to say, but he cut himself off when a shooting pain moved through his body. His ribs must be bruised. He wasn’t sure if he could get all the way back home and patch himself up in this state, so he looked up at Marcia and said, “I live a few blocks away. Mind giving me a hand?”

She almost smiled, but her eyes were too full of fear for it to be believable.

[arollofmirrors]

Here's an excerpt from an interview Weird Al did with A.V. Club.

[batsplat]

casey also talks about sepang 2015 what do you think of that

oh in that podcast? uh... lemme listen again...

yeah idk it's not really anything new I'd say? he's said basically all the same stuff in more interesting and extensive ways elsewhere. I think casey inevitably has a very 'well feuding is bad and helps nobody' point of view, has expressed that before in the past, does it here again, and he's also drawn a parallel between himself and marc on several occasions. which... well, of course there's similarities in terms of public discourse or whatever, but the parallel really falls apart whenever casey argues the feuds cost valentino. like, I do think it's sometimes important to just. keep in mind. it's interesting that casey draws this comparison in his mind but that doesn't necessarily means he's right about this. I'm not sure how you'd argue that starting a feud with casey cost valentino anything competitively? you can argue it didn't help him I guess, and then we can have a debate about the ins and outs of the 2008 season. we can also have an argument that in a hypothetical world where casey isn't ill in 2009, valentino doesn't break his leg and casey isn't on a piece of junk in 2010, and valentino isn't on a piece of junk in 2011-12, then actually maybe valentino sparking open animosity with casey COULD have cost him. but we don't know that! didn't happen! I wish we could have found out, but we never got the chance! as it stands, the tally on this is pretty straightforward: casey won the title when things were reasonably civil between them in 2007, and valentino took control of the following season at the exact moment he worsened the relationship between the pair of them in 2008. obviously, it's all more complicated than that and casey would of course argue laguna didn't negatively affect his subsequent performances... but it certainly didn't help them. like, at the very worst valentino escalating tensions in 2008 is a complete net neutral. after 2009, them being bitchy to each other every other tuesday was completely competitively irrelevant beyond maybe affecting how they approached occasionally fighting for a podium position. hey, maybe casey used that feud to fire himself up through sheer spite throughout the later stages of his career, but that doesn't actually support his anti-feud stance - it's basically the exact same thing as what valentino does. they're both quite similar in that regard! always so hungry to prove a point, to show how someone else is wrong. kinda half the point with this feuding business is to get yourself going, get yourself motivated, yeah. he straight up openly admits to using yamaha's repeat rejection of him as a way of giving himself motivation, and at the end of the day that's really not all that different?

anyway, what else does casey say... oh yeah, that him and the other aliens were already kinda prepared for this and had learned vale's tricks. that valentino had only been able to get into the minds of the previous generation. welllllll *wiggles hand* sure, I mean, he did clearly have to change his approach... he couldn't just use the exact same playbook to get to them, either on-track or off-track. but that's why he did change up the playbook... again, whether you want to believe valentino won his final two titles 'in the head' rather than just through pure pace kinda depends on how you assess the evidence, but it is at the very least a debate. and, y'know, it's always worth remembering that valentino's most important mind games with casey didn't happen in a press conference... it was on the track. and the on-track stuff really is just embedded in how valentino approaches winning. speaking of aliens, this is what dani and jorge have said:

like, valentino's entire approach to his riding, even to the way he's setting his bike up, is deliberately about directly fucking with you... he's not actually always trying to be faster than you as much as he's trying to give himself the tools to make your life miserable, to pressure you into mistakes, etc etc... and again, especially with casey (if anything because he was so mentally sturdy), the off-track stuff was really just window dressing. (I know they bicker a lot after 2009 but it's just so fundamentally irrelevant to actual on-track competition.) so you can be aware of those tricks, but it also doesn't necessarily help you when someone's being nasty to you on-track in a way you just fully do not enjoy. which is what it was like for casey! for casey, a lot of this comes back to the truly unpleasant context of how he was perceived by the public, how he was treated as mentally weak or 'broken' or whatever partly because he had the misfortune of coming up against a bloke who had the reputation for breaking rivals. I think it's quite natural to end up with a bit of a hardliner 'actually I've never been mentally affected by a result in my life' stance - and of course casey is a lot tougher than a lot of people give him credit for. that being said. sometimes your rivals affect you, shit happens, it's part of the game. it's fundamentally a nice idea to think that valentino's tactics weren't just morally wrong but also ineffective, which is kind of the appeal of this narrative, right? you want to believe you're above that, you want to believe you were adequately prepared and wise to valentino's tactic. it's unsurprising and understandable that casey does tend to tell the story that way, but again it's *wiggles hand* also hard to describe it as completely factual

uh. what else. oh I'm thrilled casey does canonically know valentino and marc were friends, he has said he wasn't following motogp too much during that time period so you couldn't be sure of that. does this mean anything? does it tell you anything? well, no, but it's just a pleasing thought to me. I like that. oh also 'provoking particularly aggressive riders isn't a good idea' is kinda a funny take from casey? like, he of all people would hate the idea of being cowed by someone's reputation like that... casey's right that provoking fast riders can potentially be dangerous, but y'know I do think that's probably not news to anyone almost nine years later. um. that's all I've got I think

[toxicrevolver]

List 5 things that make you happy then put this in the ask box for the last 10 people who reblogged something from you! :3

(flings this back towards you)

It’s been like 2 hours since I answered this the first time but I deserve the attack so.

1) banana bread still. (I really hate the fact I’m mildly allergic to bananas)

2) watching tv show/movies I enjoy (I’m looking at you marvels Venom with Tom Hardy)

3) when it rains (I fuckin love the rain)

4) can I say banana bread again? If not then creating. Just like in general. I like making art and writing.

5) MY CAT SON. HES ORANGE AND NOT VERY BRIGHT.

HAVE A PICTURE OF MY SON. (Pls ignore the mess. He lives with someone else in my family and they just moved)

[void-of-unparalled-chaos]

Idk who needs to hear this, but if you think you are annoying and that no one likes you, just be glad you aren't my Earth Surface Processes professor who is so awful at his job and so hated by his students that we had an insult tally on the whiteboard during our 2 hour study session.

(Do not feel bad for this man. He absolutely deserves it.)