#idk who else to tag but you get what i mean

[mono-dot-jpeg]

three hot professors - jayce, viktor

summary; a story about the three hot professors who work at piltover university

genre/extra tags; oneshot, comedy, fluff, modern au, piltover zaun kind of exists, but it's more like good side of town and bad side of town kind of, started this idea at 3am, some sexual themes, i say some but i literally write moments of the sex, jayce viktor and reader are in fact the hot professors, everyone wants you three but they cant have yall ‼️, viktor FUCKS and im tired of pretending he leans sub, I SWEAR I LOVE JAYCE BUT IM SO ASS AT WRITING HIM, SORRY JAYCE ENJOYERS </3 HIS PART IS SO SHORT, reader is implied to wear some type of makeup but during sex mostly

[nsfw] [gender neutral! reader]

[warnings and mentions: oral, everyone is a switch, dom leaning! viktor, sub leaning! jayce, vers! reader, sex toy, viktor grabs ass in public /hj, mean viktor (i say mean viktor but im so bad at writing mean), hickeys, lipstick... kink??? marking kink?? idk how to warn this correctly, degradation??? , praise, pet nicknames (puppy, good boy, etc.), somehow no p in v involved or p in ass. can you tell i dont write smut]

word count; 1.01k

a/n; i got a little horny seeing some fine fan art of them as professors. like what else do i have to say. i can't stop minors from reading this, but i cant say i didn't warn them. also this is kind of not my first time writing nsfw, but as a neutral feeling towards sex asexual, it's always a little awkward for me to write for stuff like this. so if it's like kind of odd, im blaming it on that and not my questionable writing skills. HAPPY 2K FOLLOWERS LMAOAOAO this is my celebration post /j

everyone in piltover knows about the staff of their prestigious university. it's kind of common sense as the university is the pinnacle of everything.

but the interest of the professors was usually the highest. whether it was because of how good they were in terms of teaching.. or how hot they were.

some liked mr. talis. jayce talis. a man who had an affinity to connect with his students and guide them forward. he was lovely as a professor or a person. he was definitely the golden man that people looked up to as he was an alumni.

the man of progress, the teacher for the people. that was jayce talis.

he was strong, sweet, compassionate. he was built strong but he was humble. he had so much love in his heart. he was a little gullible at times but he was loved by you and viktor all the same. you both teased him everyday and he never got mad. he was truly a golden retriever at heart.

he was always excited every time either of you entered his office, even if it was to make him so needy and scrambled until the day ended. most students don't exactly know where those new lipstick marks on his neck come from but some can see the leftover lipstick on your face as you wipe it off with a satisfied grin.

"isn't he so pretty like this?" viktor hums, his bad leg rests over the shoulder of the larger male. "he's- ngh.. so eager. so desperate. ah.."

"he's so good for us, vik." your hand gently guides jayce to keep going down on viktor, soon trailing up on viktor's inner thigh with a sensitive touch that has the male shivering at your nails. "he's making you shake, love. you see that, jayce? you're such a good boy." you praise. viktor loved and hated when you both ganged up on him like this.

his pale hand wraps to hold the back of your neck before he dives right to littering your neck with hickeys and wet kisses. his free hand cups your waist, tugging you closer to let him comfortably attack your neck like a hungry vampire. you give viktor your fair share of kisses, your lipstick stains viktor's face and neck. it would definitely take more than a few makeup wipes to take it off of him. or maybe he would leave some stains behind. it must be known that he clearly belongs to you.

jayce pauses when he realizes he's not getting the attention he wants. he whines into viktor's thigh, looking up at the man with pleading puppy eyes. viktor looks down with a mischievous glint in his eye. "our dear puppy wants attention.. perhaps we shall give him what he so desires..?"

you look down at jayce with a much softer look, hand cupping his face so gently as he leans into your touch. his face was wet from taking viktor's cock in his mouth.

"please," he begs as he moves to crowd your lap, tugging at your delicate lingerie. his heated breath hits your thighs as you let out a breathy sigh. "i want you and viktor..."

"look at him, love. how can you deny such a look?"

it was no secret that you, viktor, and jayce were the faces of piltover university. viktor, being sharp faced and sculpted with love, you really could trace over his body for hours and admire every part of him. it totally wasn't the innate artist in you, drooling over how he was just so utterly paintable. he could've been in a renaissance painting and no one would bat an eye.

viktor was a beautiful man. he was intelligent, passionate, caring, mischievous.. oh, he was just something unreal. he never let his body stop him from helping others when he could or teasing you and jayce when he felt like it.

he'd never say it outloud but you and jayce know that he just loves to play around. play doesn't seem like the right word when he subtly brushes his hand to grip at your ass in the middle of a university wide event where all the students and teachers were gathered around.

or when he uses his cane to hook jayce around the waist and nearly tug him to sit onto his good leg and be the sweet lapdog jayce always was for viktor. sometimes he also grabs at jayce's ass because you don't give him the cute yelp that jayce does whenever he gets teased by either of you.

he was as beautiful as he was domineering when it came to you and jayce.

"vik- viktor- please.." your voice is weak and breathless as you squirm against jayce's hold. his body pressed around your back as he gives you the soft affection while viktor ruins your body. his skinny hands tease and trace at your wet body, one hand holds a small vibrator before pressing it against the edges of your hole. he teases your body relentlessly with a sly grin on his face.

"viktor? i don't think we agreed on calling me that this time around, sweetheart. you don't want to be a bad sweetheart, yes?" as he continues to tease you, the vibrator almost slides right into your needy hole with how wet it was. it makes viktor chuckle lowly, "sweetheart.. answer me properly.."

"s-sir.. please let me cum.."

"i don't know.. should we let them?" viktor asked jayce as if pushing him to be a little mean to you as well. "they're all ready to cum without us even entering them." viktor tugs the vibrator wire away, leaving you to whine and crumble in jayce's arms as you beg incoherently.

jayce looks at your tear stained face and he can't help the need to tease you and ruin you the way viktor does. "i think we should teach them how to cum with only our cocks." you can feel a heavy familiar warmth that rests on your lower body and upper thigh. you're about to be taught a real lesson.

[mossangelll]

please please please! is there a part 2 of "bath time" of yandere!jinx? that was so good, like, real good... i felt butterflies in my stomach. i hope you consider writing a second part because i feel like i'm going insane. i need her so much:(

thank you for your service! your writing is so good. i hope your pillow is cold in both ways♡

"please, don't stop writing about her..." i beg as i kneel weakly in front of you.

so you’re the reason my pillow has been nice and cold recently…ty 😌

a/n: so fun to write! this jinx is very delusional and doesn’t even know what the word ‘boundary’ means lmao but i was also a bit stressed writing this bcs i never planned for there to be a sequel but there was a lot of interest. idk if they want to be tagged but ty to the person in my dms who inspired me to write pt2! what i’m trying to say is idk if it’ll live up to expectations but i hope you like!! also, i won’t stop writing for jinx or arcane for a while ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

bed time 🛏️💤 - sequel to bath time

cw: yandere behaviour, unhealthy relationship, drugging, dubcon, noncon, nsfw - mdni 18+ only

Something was wrong with Jinx, you didn’t know what exactly but you could tell the moment she guided you to your seat in the makeshift dining room room, hands jittery and pink eyes darting everywhere but your face.

She bit her chapped lips as she watched each forkful you took of the dinner she painstakingly prepared, perfectly in time with every one of your own hesitant bites. You tried your best to hide your discomfort but god! She didn’t even try and pretend to eat her own food - so much so that her fork was scraping against the plate, making you wince with each screech of metal hitting ceramic.

The silence, offset by the incessant skrr of her scraping, was unnerving; usually, you had a hard time keeping track of all the topics she hurled at you at the dinner table, about an outside world you were long since disconnected from. Honestly, it felt like she did it on purpose, to get a rise out of you so she finally had a valid excuse to punish you, not like she needed one. You were experienced in how “hands on” she could be when putting you in your place and you shuddered at the thought.

You were just about to take your last bite, or maybe ask her about her day to clear the air - you didn’t know, your head was starting to fill with static and your fork wavered between the plate and your mouth before she beat you to the punch.

She sprang up from her chair with so much fervour it fell at her feet as she skipped over to where you were sat to wrap her arms around your shoulders and nuzzle into your neck.

What was up with her? Your fork was still hovering in mid-air and you raised an eyebrow, one she thankfully couldn’t see, at her antics. Sure, Jinx was…eccentric to say the least but this? This was strange even for someone like her.

“How ya feeling toots? M’hoping you liked dinner, put a looooot of effort into it, y’know. Just for you.”

Her muffled voice sounded sickeningly sweet and airy against the delicate skin of your neck causing you to bristle at the feeling. The arms around you tightened and her breathing sharpened; if you were anyone else, you wouldn’t have seen through her almost imperceptible tells but she’s had you for a while and being able reading Jinx like a book comes with the unwanted territory.

You forced yourself to relax and scoop the now cold food into your mouth as you audibly hummed your satisfaction to appease her ever-changing moods. There. This should calm her down.

“I’m good, thanks Jinx. The food is so delici-”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence as your hold on the cutlery suddenly weakened. You couldn’t even react as you watched, or rather heard seeing as your vision was fading in and out with each passing moment, your fork clatter to the ground. The noise was dulled down by whatever was wrong with you.

Your head was all stuffed up, like it was crammed to the brim with dozens of fluffy cotton balls. You tried to shake the feeling away but instead came down with a horrific case of vertigo that left your brain reeling and your eyes clenched shut. The corrugated sheet walls, covered in Jinx’s colourful, tell-tale graffiti and copious doodles of the two of you, seemed to close in on you as your world quickly began to spin. A shaky hand darted out to grip Jinx’s forearm in search of some form of stability, uncaring of who exactly you had to rely on in order to achieve it.

Jinx finally straightened up, still keeping you in her tight grasp, and one of her hands slipped to touch your forehead, tutting at what she found.

“You’re burning up toots, gotta get you to lie down.”

Hot. So fucking hot.

You hadn’t even realised until she’d pointed it out but she was right. Too preoccupied in the midst of your delirium to notice you felt so incredibly hot and the sensation had spread from the top of your head to each of your extremities; not a single inch of your body was spared from the onslaught of pure heat setting you ablaze from the inside out.

Jinx scooped up your limp body in her arms, she was more athletic than she seemed from years of carrying heavy explosives but it never failed to surprise you, and carried you over to the bed you shared. The fairy lights strung across the small room were so blurry they melted into a mess of light and the polaroid pictures she took of you, back before you knew of her existence and she was just a stalker, made you feel as though you were in some awful, twisted nightmare.

Perhaps you were coming down with a sudden fever and you would have to lie there and let her care for you, although begrudgingly. You expected her to run off in search of medicine, this was concerning even to you and she had freaked out over much less, but instead she lay down next to you, her hands going from caressing your hot face to exploring the dips and curves of your body.

Her hand was cool as it came down to rest on your thigh, seemingly penetrating through the layers you had put on and somehow branding your still-flaming skin. The hand not on your thigh inspected your face, prodding here and there and opening your drooping eyelids to inspect something.

The look of pure panic and anxiety you expected to be on her face was confusingly absent, replaced with an oddly lustful expression. Her cheeks were ruddy, her lips parted and shiny from where she kept wetting them with her tongue and her eyes…her eyes startled you. Jinx’s pupils were blown out and only a slight ring of pink was visible, your heart began to race as you realised something very bad and completely out of your control was unfolding.

“Huh,” your captor huffed out, face dangerously close to yours, “He sure did up the dosage…maybe a little too much…” Jinx’s voice trailed off but you could just about make out what she muttered under her breath. You found that you didn’t care enough to figure out what exactly she meant, the delirious state you were in decided that for you.

“Angel, you really don’t understand what you do to me, do ya?” her voice came out powder- soft like the snow you used to jump in and make snow angels in when you were younger. But you didn’t know if she was whispering or if your hearing really was that messed up.

Her blue flyaways tickled the side of your face as she bent down to give a tentative kiss to your neck. Then, she peeled off each layer of clothing stuck to your body with such an ease that it made you question if she’s done this to you before.

“J-Jinx? What’re you doing?” Your voice came out slurred and no matter how badly you wanted to push her away and run, your body simply refused to listen to the devastated wails of your brain. Right now, all you wanted was to reject her smothering hold but you lacked the energy to actually do anything substantial, even clenching your fist seemed to drain you even further.

She dismissed your worried question with a less than pleased shhh and placed several more gentle pecks down the column of your throat and as much as it pained you to admit, it felt good. More than good actually - it was orgasmic. Each touch of her lips she gave you seemed to douse the raging flames for a moment before reigniting them, causing them to burn brighter than they did before and you couldn’t help but keen and writhe at the utter torture you were going through.

She perked up at the strangled noise that forced its way out of you, eyes narrowing in mischief and her lips curling up into a cruel smile.

“I knew you’d like that!” You decided then and there you hated how decisive she sounded, as if she had your body and soul mapped out on the palm of her hand, as if she knew you better than you knew yourself. Her lips then kissed a trail from your neck to your navel, stopping to nibble and lick at the ticklish skin there and giggling at your minute squirms, “It got me thinking, toots, after our bath time - what else can little ol’ me get away with?” She whispered the last part against your soft skin, voice lost to your flesh and mind.

Before you can start to decode what exactly she meant, she gives your stomach a final kiss before yanking down the final layer separating you from what she do badly yearned for. And maybe what you now yearned for too.

You can barely hold your head up to watch her movements, instead settling for tilting your head to the side but even that had you feeling like a shimmer-sick addict.

“P-please…” your weak voice warbled out and clearly Jinx had taken pity on you. Fuck, you didn’t even know what you were begging for but you knew that you couldn’t go on like this for any longer.

She nodded sympathetically, eyes wide and blown out as she reached out to cradle your heavy head, proving that she didn’t really feel bad for you; that you knew even in this addled state of yours. Her lips met yours and her tongue darted out to bite at your bottom lip, her way of asking for entry. Her tongue in your mouth placated the almost painful arousal you felt, with Jinx fighting for dominance when you weren’t even putting up a fight, happy enough to sit there and take whatever she gives you.

Your vision was hazy but you could see and feel the string of saliva connecting you both - hell, Jinx looked just as fucked up as you felt. The impish Jinx you were accustomed to was gone and all that was left in her wake was a woman who would stop at nothing to keep you with her.

Your arms felt like lead and you couldn’t even reach out to smooth your sweaty hand against your captor’s arm. You just wanted assurance this was real, that you weren’t dreaming this up, that she would help you get better no matter what it cost you.

“It’s a shame you’re like this, would’ve been nice to feel your hands on me.” She lamented with a pout but she was quick to dismiss the thought as she looked down at your body, all pretty and sweet and worked up just for her. The wetness between your thighs seemed to shimmer at her, as if it was proof that all her patience was finally manifesting in her dream come true. She wiggled out of her tight pants and top, she didn’t want to waste what you lovingly presented to her on a silver platter, and made more of a show of slipping out of her underwear before getting to business.

Her lithe form oh so slowly slithered down the mattress until she was directly facing you soaking wet pussy. You didn’t have the time nor faculty to close your legs from her invasive gaze before she dove in head-first, slurping at the liquid ambrosia dripping from you.

You let out a shocked gasp, the only thing you can manage despite needing to let out a guttural, full body moan, not expecting her to do anything so soon. She continued in that manner, licking long stripes up your cunt and swirling her tongue around your clit until you were nothing but a useless puddle beneath her.

You felt your vision waver and everything faded to black as the static in your mind only grew stronger - and that’s when your orgasm hit you like a freight train. And yet, the fiery longing within you only stopped for a mere second before returning in its full glory, making you more desperate than you were before and you still had no idea what caused this.

The feeling was too much and you passed out as Jinx was still eating you out but when you came to she was now fingering you, wrist tense and three fingers pistoning in and out of you with rapid determination.

Out again.

Back again; she had one of your nipples in her mouth, rolling it against her tongue, as he caressed your sensitive clit, doing the same to herself.

Out again.

Back again; she was kissing the skin at your thighs and leaving bruising hickies that stained the upper half of your legs and although you knew you should be mad, protest, do anything, you just moaned in abject pleasure. She looked up from where she was stamping her ownership to see you staring and couldn’t help but slowly smile, before saying in her husky voice, “Gonna fuck you so good you’ll never think about leaving me ever again. Just stay awake long enough for it, y’hear?”

Out again.

You woke up again, unsure of how long it had been since you last passed out, and this time her scrawny arms were manoeuvring the dead weight of your body, guiding your hips to slot just underneath hers so she could take up all the work of visciously grinding against you. With each drag of her hip against yours, your clits bumped together and you groaned as loudly as your tired vocal cords could manage.

She leaned forwards, still grinding against you as the slick squelches echoed in the room, and grasped both of your tits in her hands. Her nails dug into the softness of your chest before fondling the crescent marks she left behind and twisting at your sore nipples, causing you to yelp and her to darkly chuckle.

You moaned once the pain ebbed away and found yourself mesmerised looking at Jinx’s face; the low light in the room cast deep shadows across her face and only seemed to accentuate the feral look in her eyes, the sensual way she bit her lip as she looked on at you - you needed more.

“Fuck, toots, don’t want this to ever end. You’re so good for me.” Jinx moaned out as one hand retreated in order to play with her own chest. Her head was flung back and you watched, entranced, when her long braids fell to the floor and at the same time, the pale expanse of her throat was exposed to you. How badly you wanted to sink your teeth in and bite.

It was odd to see Jinx so vulnerable in front of you and it only confused your addled mind further but instead you were made to focus on the carnal desires flowing through your veins and igniting your blood.

You didn’t know how it was possible to orgasm again after already having so many prior to this, but once again you felt that burning pressure build up inside of you like getting a jolt from an exposed live wire. It bubbled up in the tips of your toes and shot up your spine, your weak body overwhelmed by the rapture Jinx had caused within you. Clearly she wasn’t unaffected by your display as her own high pitched moans and grunts reached your eyes and the grinding of her hips sped up so you both could ride out your highs together, hand in hand.

You couldn’t stop the falling tears as the torment from the past few hours finally died down at last and you could close your eyes for the last time that night and rest.

Once Jinx’s own orgasm slowly faded away into residual jolts of pleasure and then nothingness, she disentangled her trembling legs from yours and spooned your sleeping body, covering up your naked bodies with the blanket all whilst panting out of exhaustion.

“Nighty night, sweets.” Jinx waited until your breathing finally started to equalise, not that it was really necessary; you were so drugged out you probably wouldn’t remember this tomorrow, never mind wake up.

Then, she turned away and fumbled around in the crate next to the bed she used for storage and located the vial, smooth and cool and safe in her hands. Sure, she was upset your first time the way she intended it to happen was stolen from her, she could blame Singed and his inability to do things in moderation, but still she could sleep at night knowing she got to share such a special moment with you.

masterlist

[confused-disaster32]

hi I'm here regarding your tags: Cara's terminal illness? He's not having a good time with it but the presence of his rash means he's in secondary stage, which comes prior to latent, asymptomatic phase. The vast majority of people who suffer from syphilis don't actually live long enough for any other reason to EVER hit the tertiary stage which causes death. I think it's safe to say Caracalla's immune system is weak as all hell and he probably won't be that lucky, but he has the best part of his infection ahead - the part where it stops existing, sometimes for decades, before coming back with a vengeance. In theory, if he made it through the fevers and the rest of all that is going wrong with him in the time we get to know him, eventually, it would ease up. For years.

Also, without Macrinus - Geta was actually coming to learn to play the crowds. He listened to Lucilla when Lucilla chose mercy for Lucius against their rhino rider. He hesitates to make the call to the archers - despite all of his rage and hurt - when Lucius refuses to execute Acacius on command. Without Macrinus egging him on, he was hearing the crowd. Despite everything.

This is such a cope but it's also all true. They had hope. They're so goddamn young, but they were going through their hard lessons, and at least one of them was learning. The other one needed bed rest and antibiotics.

Oh - the terminal part I tagged that mostly cause I saw someone else who tagged it the same way and saw that syphilis could possibly get to a worst stage which I knew you could treat with antibiotics nowadays but wasn't entirely sure what happened back then when that wasn't really a thing.. (though I'll admit that I should've done a bit more of a search before that because I don't have a very in depth knowledge of how syphilis works and didn't know how long syphilis takes to get to the terminal point) - and honestly I'm still kinda learning a lot about their characters, which is why I honestly adore your posts though I do still always feel quite awkward/bad whenever I mischaracterise them cause they're genuinely such wonderful characters and I think sometimes I'm a bit too caught up with what they were in the films (manipulated and therefore not rlly having a great time...) and I don't give enough time to think about what they could've been had things gone different ways such as if Geta had had a chance to continue to grow as a person/emperor without Macrinus messing around in the background (though I was mostly basing that tag off of the fact that on the night of Geta's death people were really starting to riot and I didn't think enough about the fact that those rioters don't even get in that night cause like the next day Caracalla has a chance to announce the new consuls and eventually continue with the games and stuff - so my brain decided to just hand me a scenario that wasn't even all that canon compliant in the first place).

Idk if I'm actually getting my thoughts down as much as I'd like bc it's a little late for me rn but

Thank u for this tho bc I much prefer when someone tells me when I'm off then they just let me be cause I hate it when I accidentally mischaracterise a character esp if I'm fond of them 😭

[sainzers]

men that ill never meet need to stop looking like my dream man, like, that's so disrespectful

[froggy-nebula]

i might just be pulling this out of my ass but i feel like terezi and gamzee really did a lot of damage to how people see pitch relationships

and i get it, terezi and gamzee’s relationship was basically everything people say about pitch relationships. it was abusive, horrible, and enabled by everyone around them

but they’re also not the only pitch relationship we see in the comic, or even the only pitch relationship we see terezi get into

and they’re not even the only abusive and/or toxic relationship we see by far, and plenty of those weren’t pitch

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Just popping in to say i LOVE UR ART SO MUCH WAUGH!!!! Its soooooooo exoressive and u get across emotion and movement SO WELL!! I love ...littlr apple ...so much.....u imbue this donkey with Such Chaos

I love this little chaos creature, we should all forfeit our mortal possessions to her.

[batsplat]

new casey podcast have you seen it

https://m.youtube.com/watch?si=ye8wNfrvaPDjtpDV&v=IuwZN6aP8sg&feature=youtu.be

(link to the podcast) yeah I did, cheers!

there's not that much 'new information' per se within this podcast, though there's a bunch of nice tidbits about teenage casey. what stood out to me is how the framing of his journey to becoming a racer is... well, it's kinda new? it's not exactly surprising, because you could get a lot of this stuff from reading between the lines in his autobiography. the question of 'is this your dream or your parents' dream' is a very common one with athletes, and it's often a thin line... but, y'know, this podcast interview in particular is quite a noticeable shift in how casey himself talks about this issue. it's a shift in how he portrays his 'dream' of becoming a professional rider back when he was formulating his autobiography, versus how he's answering questions in this episode. his autobiography isn't free from criticism of his parents - but casey is always stressing his own desire to race. so you do get stuff like this (from the autobiography):

At this point things were getting serious. Dad used to say, 'If you want to become World Champion you can't be that much better than local competition,' holding his finger and thumb an inch apart. 'You have to be this much better,' he'd say, holding his arms wide open. Dad confirms this feeling still today: 'I know it's a harsh way to look at things but that's the difference between a champion and the rest. Just look at the careers of Dani Pedrosa and Jorge Lorenzo. Dani had Alberto Puig and Jorge had his old man, both of them hard as nails. If you want to make it to the top I think it takes somebody with an unforgiving view on life to help get you there. So I said those things to Casey, particularly when we went to the UK, because to keep moving up a level he couldn't just be happy with winning a race. If he wasn't winning by a margin that represented his maximum performance then he wasn't showing people how much better he was than the rest.' There's no denying that Dani, Jorge and I became successful with that kind of upbringing and sometimes you probably do need it. As far as I'm concerned Alberto was nowhere near as tough on Dani as my dad was on me or Jorge's dad was on him. That kind of intensity and expectation puts a lot of extra pressure on a father-son relationship that isn't always healthy. We definitely had our moments and there were a few major blow-ups to come. But at the time, rightly or wrongly, it was proving to be a good system for us and I was eager to continue impressing my dad and others with my performances on the track.

(quick reminder, jorge's review of his father's style of parenting was describing him as "a kind of hitler")

but in general the emphasis is very much on how much casey enjoyed racing, on how single-minded casey was when it came to racing. he might have been isolated by his racing (again this is from the autobiography, in the context of discussing being bullied by kids in school until he got 'protection' from his dirt track friends):

School life was a whole lot better after that but I still hated it. All my real friends were from dirt-track; they were the only people I had anything in common with.

and he's talked about how other parents misinterpreted his shyness as him not actually wanting to race, which meant they were judging casey's parents as a result (autobiography):

Mum tells me that the other parents thought she and Dad were awful because I cried as I lined up on the start line. She remembers: 'I was putting his gloves on his hands and pushing his helmet over his head. The thing was, I knew Casey wasn't crying because he didn't want to ride or because he was scared. He just didn't like the attention of being stared at by all these people!'

but like. overall racing for him was still something he portrayed as a very positive aspect of his childhood. something he always clung onto, something that was his choice to pursue

so... let's play compare and contrast with some specific passages of the autobiography and this podcast, you decide for yourself. take this from his autobiography:

After I started winning more times than not, and it was obvious my passion for bikes wasn't wavering, Mum and Dad decided that seeking out sponsors could be a great idea to help offset some of the costs of travelling to meets and keeping the bikes in good order.

and here, in a longer excerpt about what a sickly child casey was, what his mother said (autobiography):

'They tested him for cystic fibrosis and he was on all kinds of medication; you name it, he was on it. But Casey still raced, we couldn't stop him.' I know I was sick but Mum was right, I wasn't going to let that stop me.

versus this from the podcast, when he's responding to a completely open question about how he got into riding:

To be honest, I don't know if I was allowed to have any other attraction to be honest. I think it was, you know, you're going to be a bike rider from when I was a very very young age - and I'm not the only one to think that. I think my parents have stated that enough times to certain people and you know I was sort of pushed in that direction. My elder sister who's six and a half years older than me, she actually raced a little bit of dirt bikes and dirt track before I was born and when I was very young, so it was sort of a natural progression to go and do a little bit more of that and I think because at the time road racing was a lot more similar to dirt track. That was our sort of way in.

this was one of the very first questions in the interview, it basically just consisted of asking casey how he got into biking in the first place - whether it had come through his family or whatever. casey chose to take the response in that direction... it's not an answer that is just about his own internal passion, how he loved riding the second he touched a bike, how he loved it throughout his childhood etc etc (which is how it's framed in the autobiography) - but instead he says he wasn't allowed to do anything else. he says that he was pushed in that direction, that his parents have openly said as much to others. that he feels vindicated in the belief he was never given another choice

let's play another round. here from the autobiography:

Mum and Dad used to stand at the side for hours on end watching me practise at different tracks. They'd sometimes clock laps with a stopwatch as I went round and round. Other parents couldn't see the point in taking it so seriously but they didn't realise it was what I wanted. I was having fun. Working out how to go faster was how I got my kicks and I couldn't stop until I had taken a tenth or two of a second off my best time on any day. If another kid came out onto the track with me I would be all over them, practising passing them in different ways and in different corners, but most of the time they avoided riding with me and I would be out there on my own, racing the clock.

and this (autobiography):

I enjoyed racing so much that even when I was at home riding on my own I would set up different track configurations to challenge myself. I'd find myself a rock here, a tree there, a gatepost over there and maybe move a branch and that would be my track.

versus here, in the podcast:

Q: And did you realise at the time that you were - not groomed, is not the word but well you were being groomed to be a professional motorcycle racer, or obviously that was your only one reference point, that was the norm. Did that just feel the norm or did you think actually this feels a bit intense or how did you feel about it? A: I think it's hard, it's not until I sort of reached my mid teens where I started to have a bit of a reality check on what I was actually doing. Before then, you know I was competitive. I'm not as competitive as people think, I'm a lot more competitive internally rather than externally versus other people. I always challenge myself to things, so all those younger years was just getting the job done that I was expected to do. I enjoyed winning, I loved it, but you know I enjoyed perfect laps, perfect races, as close as I could get to that and you know from a young age I always sort of challenged myself constantly to be better. So I didn't just win races, I tried to win them - you know, if I won races by five seconds in a [...] race I'd try and win, you know I'd try and get to double that by the end of the day if I could. So you know that always kept me sharp and it stopped me from being sort of, you know, complacent in the position I was at. And it wasn't until sort of you know 16, 17, 18 that reality kicked in. I'd had a couple years road racing in the UK and Spain, been rather successful and then you get to world championships and you know maybe an engineer that was sort of - didn't have your best interests at hear. And, you know, I nearly finished my career right there after my first year of world championships just because of the reality of how hard it was in comparison to everything else I'd experienced up to that point. And, you know, it was a real reality check for me and I think it was then that I started to - you know consider everything around me and consider how and why I got to the position that I was in and that's when the mind started to change a little bit and realise that you know I really was being groomed my whole life just to sort of be here and be put on a track and try and win. And, you know, that was my seemingly most of my existence.

in all the excerpts, he stresses how much he enjoys his perfect laps, how much he enjoys riding, how there is genuine passion there, how dedicated he is to this pursuit... but then in the podcast, he's adding something else - how he'd been groomed his whole life into that role of 'professional bike racer'. that it was only in his late teens (when he was in 125cc/250cc) where he had this moment of 'man I never really had a choice in all this'

and another round. here's him talking in the autobiography about how all the money he got through racing went back into racing - but it was fine because it was the only thing he cared about anyway:

I don't remember seeing any of the money I earned because it all went back into my racing, although I guess at the time that's all I really cared about anyway. I didn't know anything else. Mum and Dad always said to me: 'If you put in the effort, we'll put in the effort.'

and here in the autobiography on how he just wanted to ride all day:

I couldn't ride my bike all day, though, as much as I would have liked to.

and him talking in the autobiography about his parents encouraging him and his sister to 'chase their dreams':

Mum and Dad encouraged both Kelly and me to follow our passions and work hard to chase our dreams. That might sound strange when you are talking about a seven-year-old but I don't think you are never too young to know that if you want something you have to earn it.

versus this in the podcast:

Q: And I've never asked you this before, but did you want to? A: Um... I think I'd been convinced of a dream I suppose. You know, yes I loved riding bikes and you know I really did enjoy racing... but there was lots of other things that I - I really enjoyed as well but just never had the opportunity or never was allowed to do anything else, so... You know, motorbikes for our budget everything fortunately dirt track was probably the cheapest way that you could go motorbike racing. You could survive on very very little in dirt track and show your potential in other ways. You know, yes, having good bikes and good tyres and all that sort of thing made a difference but it wasn't the be all end all, you could always make a difference in other ways, so... I think it was, you know - the best thing we could have done, racing through that. Like I said I enjoyed it, it wasn't until late teens, early 20s where I sort of was like, I don't know if I would have been a bike racer had I actually had a choice.

was riding really all he cared about? or were there other things he was interested in, things he just never had the opportunity to pursue? things he wasn't allowed to pursue? from the autobiography, you get the sense that his parents always deliberately portrayed it as casey's dream, something he was expected to work hard for in order to be allowed to fulfil. in the podcast, casey says it was a dream he was 'convinced' of. without wanting to speak too much on the specifics of this parenting relationship we only have limited knowledge of, this kinda does all sound like athlete parent 101: getting it into their kids' heads that this is the dream of the child, not the parent, before holding it over them when they fail to perform when their parents have invested so so much in their child's success. casey's family was financially completely dependent on his racing results when they moved to the uk - he was fourteen at the time. he was painfully conscious of his parents' 'sacrifice' to make 'his dream' possible. can you imagine what kind of pressure that must be for a teenager?

to be clear, this isn't supposed to be a gotcha, I'm not trying to uncover contradictions between what casey said back then and what he's saying now. obviously, this is all very... thorny, complicated stuff, and casey has had to figure out for himself how he feels about it, how he feels about how his parents approached his upbringing. but it is worth pointing out that this isn't necessarily just a question of his feelings changing over time - if the internal timeline he provides in the podcast is correct, he was really having that realisation in his late teens, early 20s, so on the verge of joining the premier class. that is when he says he had the thought "I don't know if I would have been a bike racer had I actually had a choice"... which is a pretty major admission, you have to say, especially given how rough those premier class years often ended up being on him. but then that realisation would have already come years and years before he wrote his autobiography, it would've been something he carried with him for most of his career. given that, you do look at his autobiography and think that he did make the decision to frame things pretty differently back then, that he decided to exclude certain things from his narrative. if this really is already something that's been festering within him for years, if he does feel like he wants to be a bit more open about all of that now than back then... well, hopefully it shows he's been able to work through all of it a bit more in the intervening years

(this is somehow an even thornier topic than his relationship with parents, but relatedly there is a bit of a discrepancy between how bullish he is in his autobiography about how mentally unaffected he was by his results, versus how he's since opened up since then about his anxiety. again, I want to stress, this is not a gotcha, he's under no obligation to share this stuff with the world - especially given the amount of discourse during his career about his supposed 'mental weakness'. it is still important in understanding him, though, how he consciously decided to tell his own story in the autobiography and how he's somewhat changed his approach in the subsequent years)

this is the rest of his answer to that podcast question I relayed above:

But at the same time you know I felt that no matter what I would have done, I sort of have a - my mentality of self-punishment, you know, of never being good enough that always drove me to try and be better and any single thing that I did, I didn't like it when I wasn't not perfect. I don't believe in the word perfect but I really didn't enjoy when I wasn't, you know, in my own terms considered a good enough level at anything I did so I would always sort of try to get up as high as I could regardless of what for.

at which point hodgson says exactly what I was thinking and goes 'god what a line' about the "mentality of self-punishment" thing. it is one hell of a line!

what's really interesting about this podcast is how these two big themes of 'this wasn't my choice' and 'self-punishment' end up kinda being linked together when casey talks about how the motogp world reacted to him... so again I'm gonna quickly toss in a bit from the autobiography (where he's talking about casual motorcycling events he went to as a kid), because it does read similarly in how for him the joy and competitive aspects of riding are closely linked:

It was a competition but it wasn't highly competitive; it was just for fun, really. Of course, I didn't see it that way, though, and I had dirt and stones flying everywhere. I don't think anyone expected the park to be shredded like it was. When I was on my bike, if I wasn't competing to my maximum level then I wasn't having as much fun.

and back to the podcast:

And also because people truly didn't understand me, that I'm not there just to enjoy the racing. As we're explaining, before that, you know it was sort of a road paved for me... And so the results were all important, not the enjoyment of it. And then you cop the flak for everything you do. I'm also very self-punishing, so it was kind of a - just a lose lose lose and it was all very very heavy on myself, so... It, you know, it took me till my later years to realise I could take the pressure off myself a little bit and go look you've done all the work you've done everything you can, you got to be proud of what you've done, so... Not necessarily go out there and enjoy it, because I don't believe you should just be going out in a sport where you're paid as much as we are expect to get results and just - you know - oh I'm just going to go and have fun it's like... yeah, nah, if you're just going to go and have fun then you're not putting in the work. And that's when we see inconsistencies etc. So I was very very harsh on myself and so even when I won races, if I made mistakes or I wasn't happy with the way I rode, well then yeah I'm happy I won but there's work to do. There was more to get out of myself and so that's where I copped a lot of bad... um, let's say bad press because of those kind of things and then they sort of attack you even more because they didn't like the fact that you didn't celebrate these wins like they wanted you to they expect you to I suppose treat every victory like almost a championship and you know it's not that I expected these wins but I expected more of myself and therefore maybe I didn't celebrate them as much as you know other people do.

kind of brings together a lot of different things, doesn't it? this whole profession was a path that was chosen for him... which he links here to how the results were 'all important' for him, how it just couldn't ever be about enjoyment. he always punished himself for his mistakes, he was under constant pressure, which also affected how he communicated with the outside world... he was so committed to self-flagellation that he made it tough for himself to actually celebrate his victories, which in turn wasn't appreciated by the fans or the press. so on the one hand, casey's obviously still not particularly thrilled about how much of a hard time he was given over his particular approach to being a rider. but on the other hand, he's also describing how all of this can be traced back to how becoming a rider was never actually his 'choice'. he's detailed his perfectionism before, including in his autobiography, including in discussing his anxiety disorder more recently - but this is explicitly establishing that link between the pressure he'd felt during his childhood to how he'd been pushed into this direction to how he then had to perform. he couldn't afford to be anything less than perfect, so he wasn't, and at times he made his own life even tougher as a result of his own exacting standards. this just wasn't stuff he's said in such straightforward, explicit terms before... and now he is

my general thing with casey is that his reputation as a straight shooter or whatever means people aren't really paying enough attention to how he's telling his own story. like, I kinda feel the perception is 'oh he used to be more closed off because the media ragged on him but since retirement he's been able to tell it like it really is' or whatever. and I'm not saying that's necessarily wrong, but it's not quite as simple as that. because he's not a natural at dealing with the media, he's put a fair bit of thought into how to communicate better with them (which he does also say in the podcast), and he's explicitly acknowledged this is something he looked to valentino for in order to learn how to better handle. because casey has felt misunderstood for quite a long time, he's quite invested in selling his story in certain ways - and it's interesting how what he's chosen to reveal or emphasise or conceal or downplay has changed over time. which means there will be plenty of slight discrepancies that pop up over time that will be as revealing as anything he explicitly says... and it tells you something, what his own idea of what 'his story' is at any given time. this podcast isn't just interesting as a sort of, y'know, one to one, 'this is casey telling the truth' or whatever - it's reflecting where his mind is at currently, what he wants to share and in what way, and how that compares to his past outlook. the framing of his childhood was really something that popped out about this particular interview... it's not like it's exactly surprising that this is how he feels, but more that he decided to say all of this so openly. some pretty heavy stuff in there! hope the years really have helped him... man, I don't know. figure it all out, for himself. something like that

[our-lesboy-experience]

Ok one thing I want to say is as a trans man I’m personally uncomfortable if a lesbian wants to date me. However I don’t mind trans men who do date lesbians because that’s totally cool, I just wish people wouldn’t make a big fuss about it when I say that “I” don’t want to (im super attracted to men being one reason) and my childhood best friend who’s a lesbian is cool with it too

yeah!! it always confuses me when people say lesbians or trans men "can't do xyz," because you know. people CAN do whatever they want regardless of sexuality. and when people ask you if you if you think they can it's like....yes?? because they have free will?? I can't control someone's personal decisions??

[hsslilly-blog]

shirt with a heart and child of divorce written on top but then there’s a picture of huntclaire. you wouldnt get it. i do

[riiviir]

hey guys so I just started reading Flatland by Edwin A. Abbott and OMG AHSBNSBSBSNSNBSHZHSHDBFHGGHFHGRJ2KSHSBSNSK AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I LOVE THINKING ABOUT THE RELATIVITY BETWEEN DIMENSIONS!!!!!!

[vampmilf]

hold on im still too mad at this one fucking guest to take a nap i need to be a hater for a minute

[rxttenfish]

i have and still do think its extremely weird how many people have an immediate negative gut reaction to fur and to hunting in general, especially occurring even more negatively the less they know about it. like.

even just disregarding the fact that an animal being hunted is one of the most sustainable things available to most people nowadays, with the animal being killed as fast as possible in a way that utilizes as much of their body as possible, in a way that produces very little waste, when basically every hunter i know are some of the most ecologically conscientious and green-minded people you can find — the fur and leather and bone itself is one of the few things you can actually feel Connected to anymore.

like i look at the other stuff they promote and so many "green products" and i still can't tell where they're from or how they were produced or even entirely what went into making them. none of my furs are like that. i often talked to the person who hunted and skinned and tanned the hide, who sewed the hat or the bag or the coat, i can identify and pick out the exact animal who gave its life for it and know them very intimately, and for an incredibly long amount of time, long enough that most of what i have was passed down to me from my family. like these are the opposites of fast fashion in every respect, im usually excited to be able to break out my otter or raccoon hat when winter comes around, i come back to my buffalo bags over and over.

i'm often very uncomfortable when they're described as "luxury items" as well for that reason - they're often just priced accordingly to the time and effort that goes into them and will last just as long as the price tag implies. animal fur and leather are the very first materials humans had available to them. it's not any different than going to a craft show and buying a knitted hat from a grandma for me, except that i know the full history of how all that material was acquired in the first place and that it won't be sat aside or forgotten under anything else. it's very hard, even when you just have one fur hat, to not make the full use out of it, that you want to and it occupies a position of respect. hell, fur isn't even "in" for rich people anymore, it's increasingly gone out of fashion for them and has shown up less and less over time.

i don't know. it's very weird to see everyone has a weird gut reaction to seeing fur or discussing hunting, in a way that has never correlated to anything i've actually experienced.

[quibbs126]

I’m finding myself intrigued by the concept of how a Transformer’s alt mode may affect them on a personal level

I’m not sure if what I said makes sense, let me try to give examples

What I mean is like…

Shit I don’t know how to explain myself other than the concept of a Transformer not liking their alt mode and wishing they had a different one

I think it does depend on whether or not Cybertronians choose their alt mode, and if literally any option is available to them before doing so, or if they have a pre-set kind of alt mode when they’re first created, and can only really change their alt mode to something with a similar build

Also I feel like this concept I want explored is just Functionism and how it affects Cybertronians, especially when I’m thinking of it outside of just that one concept I listed above. And I assume this is covered a fair bit in the comics

But like, I don’t feel like I see much of it in the shows (at least as far as I’ve seen). Which is personally my preferred/default way of consuming the series, hence why I want to see it there. And I don’t just mean how it shows a corrupt pre-war Cybertron, but how it affects them individually, or how the influence of Functionism still affects them so long after

Crap, I’ve said the same thing like, three times now and all in the same way. I’m trying to say it in a variation that explains more of what I want, but it’s not verbalizing in my brain properly so I just end up repeating myself. I do mean in more ways, I just don’t know how to say them

I feel like this post is becoming incoherent, and reads very much like a flow of my brain thoughts, in part because that’s what it is, just not as polished as when I usually do it. But do you get what I’m saying?

[annoyingdogsong]

if you genuinely ship curly and anya i'm stealing something from your house 😭

[koka-mi]

vent under the cut you don't need to read if you don't want to!!!!!!!

I honestly hateee opening up or oversharing with ppl. it's kind of like eating for me where it feels okay in the moment but then afterwards I just feel awful. it feels like I'm attention seeking or saying someone else's experience isn't valid for some reason and it sucks. I don't do it at all with ppl I just met but with friends I tend to get carried away with it sometimes,,,

It hurts even more because I've been distancing myself from ppl bcz I'm scared of this exact thing happening. People have messaged me before, saying I seem cool and they want to be friends. And I get happy in the moment, but then I get really anxious about accidentally getting too comfortable and blurting out personal things, because then their opinion of me will wane and they'll think I'm annoying or ungrateful. So I subconsciously begin to distance myself and take a while when responding to messages, because I'm scared of getting too comfortable with them. But now I'm anxious that they think I'm cold or distant and that I secretly don't like them. It's just a lose lose situation mannn </3

I have so many DMs I've put off responding to, and I've stopped talking in servers as much bcz I'm scared of getting close with ppl in them. I really feel bad for it, though. I've drifted from friends bcz of that and it sucks because I genuinely love them a lot. I love everyone I talk to a lot and they always make my day better--I just wish I could be the same for them. I feel like it's a chore to talk to me. I honestly don't know what to do. It's even worse when I get close to someone bcz they like what I make/post because again, now that they've seen how I really am and I've opened up, they more than likely see me as annoying or a bad person. Like it hurts enough whenever we become friends naturally talking, but if it's with someone who's seen me at my "best" and has seen things I work on or stories I've created, they ofc associate me with those things, and their expectations of me are through the roof. So when I disappoint them it hurts a lot more. I hate getting attached to people it hurts so much

[maddy-ferguson]

talking to new people again is making me realize that (this is gonna sound dramatic) i haven't lived in five years but what i have done is watch a lot of movies and read a bunch of books and believe it or not that actually makes me an interesting conversationalist in some ways (?)