#lessons from business failure

[failtosucceedlife-blog]

How to Get Back Up Again: Rebuilding After Business Failure

Overcoming the Fear of Failure: Tips and Strategies ON Re-building after business failure Failure is an inevitable part of running a business. Every entrepreneur faces setbacks and challenges along the way, and it’s how they respond to these failures that truly define their success. In fact, failure can be seen as a valuable learning opportunity, providing insights into what went wrong and…

[ytmarketing001]

Failure is the pillar of success. In this video, I'll share my journey from losing thousands of dollars at 21 with my first business to becoming a successful entrepreneur. Let's learn more about why my first startup failed - lessons that every entrepreneur must learn. 👉Subscribe to my channel to stay tuned:    / @pauladaba  

[reallytoosublime]

https://analialayra56.blogspot.com/2025/02/how-i-lost-thousands-at-21-on-my-first.html

[mehmetyildizmelbourne-blog]

How Ted’s Return to 9-to-5 Made Him Happier After an Online Writing Business Failure

Discover why going back to corporate life made this person happier and wiser and the key lessons aspiring content entrepreneurs should know before attempting such business. Summary of a Case Study As a content strategist and ethnographic researcher, I conducted extensive case studies on book authors, online writers, freelancers, ghostwriters, and affiliate marketers, providing valuable insights…

[olis-inkwell-symposium]

Developing Backstory: Bringing Characters to Life

1. Where It All Started: The Character’s Origin

Place of Birth: Where did your character first see the world? Think about the impact of this place—was it a busy city where they had to fight for attention or a quiet village where everyone knew everyone’s business? This location doesn’t just say where they’re from; it shapes how they see the world.

Family and Upbringing: What was their family like? Were their parents loving or distant? Maybe they were raised by someone other than their parents—a mentor, an older sibling, or even alone. Family (or the lack of it) is usually one of the most significant factors in shaping who someone becomes.

Society’s Expectations: What was expected of them when they were young? Possibly, they were born into wealth, with all the pressure to continue the family legacy, or maybe they were raised to be invisible in a world where survival mattered. How does this influence who they are now? Do they accept or reject those expectations?

2. Childhood Events That Left a Mark

First Taste of Conflict: Think about the first time the character realized the world wasn’t a perfect place. Maybe they witnessed violence or faced betrayal. What was that moment, and how did it stick with them? This moment usually lays the foundation for the character’s emotional landscape—fear, hope, ambition, or distrust all come from these early life lessons.

Childhood Dreams: When they were young, what did they want to be? Every child has dreams—did they want to be a knight, a scholar, or even just someone who could travel the world? Did they have to give up these dreams? How does that lost dream shape them now?

Formative Relationships: Who was their first best friend, mentor, or enemy? Childhood friendships and relationships often create deep bonds or wounds that last into adulthood. Did they have a mentor who taught them everything, only to betray them? Did they lose a childhood friend that still haunts them?

3. The Teen Years: Where They Start to Become Who They Are

Trials and Tribulations: What’s the biggest challenge they faced as they grew up? Was it losing a loved one, failing at something important, or maybe being forced into a role they didn’t want? These teenage years are where the emotional armor starts forming—how did the difficulties they faced shape them into the person they are now?

Education or Training: How did they learn what they know? Were they formally trained by an institution, learning everything by the book, or did they learn through experience, like a street-smart survivalist? What impact does their education or lack of it have on how they interact with others?

Teenage Bonds: Did they have a first love or a first major falling out with someone close to them? These experiences often create emotional scars or connections that they carry with them into adulthood. How does that past friendship or romance influence their behavior now?

4. Key Life Events: The Big Moments That Define Them

Trauma or Loss: Was there a moment that changed everything? Think about a significant loss—maybe a loved one, their home, or a sense of identity. How does this event affect their worldview? Do they build walls around themselves or dive into relationships with reckless abandon because they fear losing more?

Victory or Failure: Did they experience a moment of triumph or devastating defeat? Success and failure leave their marks. Were they celebrated as a hero once, leading them to overconfidence, or did they fail when everyone was counting on them, leading to crippling self-doubt?

Betrayal: Was there a betrayal that shaped their adult relationships? Whether it is a friend, family member, or lover, betrayal often changes how we trust others. Do they close themselves off, constantly expecting betrayal, or try to rebuild trust, afraid of being left alone again.

5. Where They Stand Now: The Present Moment

What Drives Them Today: What’s the one thing pushing them forward now? Is it revenge, the need to restore their family’s honor, or maybe even just survival? Whatever it is, this motivation should tie directly back to their experiences.

Emotional Baggage: What unresolved emotional wounds are they carrying? Everyone has scars from their past—some are visible, others not so much. How do these emotional wounds affect how they treat others, how they react to conflict, and how they move through the world.

Current Relationships: Who’s still in their life from their past, and how do they feel about it? Did they reconnect with someone they thought they’d lost, or are they haunted by unresolved issues with people from their past? Do they have any ongoing tensions or regrets tied to these people?

6. Tying Themes to Their Backstory

Cultural or Mythological Influence: How does their personal story tie into the larger world’s mythology or culture? Do they carry a family legacy, a curse, or a prophecy that hangs over them? How does this influence their interactions with others and their perception of themselves?

Recurring Symbols: Are there objects, dreams, or people that keep showing up in their life, symbolizing their journey? Perhaps a recurring nightmare haunts them, or they carry an object from their past that’s both a source of comfort and pain

7. Character Arc: The Journey from Past to Present

How Does Their Past Shape Their Growth?: Every character has emotional baggage that needs resolving. How does their backstory drive their arc? Do they need to forgive themselves, let go of the past, or accept who they’ve become to move forward?

Unanswered Questions from the Past: Are there any mysteries in their backstory they need to solve? Maybe they’re unaware of their true parentage, or maybe there’s a forgotten event from their childhood that will resurface and change everything.

[wickedzeevyln]

Stroke of Luck

There are two types of people pursuing success. One pursuing luck, the other opportunity. One is cursing the heavens for bad luck, the other thanking the above for the lessons that failure teaches. One attributes success to good luck, the other with a sense of fulfillment for whatever was won, was earned. —e.d. maramat Luck is so unreliable. Don’t count on it. Yes, it shows up when you least…

[astrologydray]

Saturn through the degrees 🪐🪐

🪐Saturn represents discipline, structure, responsibility, karma, and life lessons. The degree it occupies in your natal chart refines how you experience challenges, maturity, and long-term success.

0° Saturn – The Pure Authority

• Born with a strong sense of duty and leadership.

• Challenges arise early, but rewards come with patience.

1° Saturn – The Determined Initiator

• Takes responsibility seriously but may struggle with self-doubt.

• Must develop confidence in their abilities.

2° Saturn – The Stable Builder

• Creates long-lasting success through steady effort.

• Struggles with perfectionism but thrives in practical work.

3° Saturn – The Communicative Mentor

• Learns and teaches through spoken or written word.

• Must overcome fear of expressing authority.

4° Saturn – The Structured Traditionalist

• Highly disciplined and prefers tradition over change.

• Finds success in law, government, or stability-focused careers.

5° Saturn – The Confident Creator

• Can become a powerful leader, but needs self-trust.

• Struggles with balancing authority and flexibility.

6° Saturn – The Relationship Balancer

• Life lessons come through commitment, partnerships, and fairness.

• Can be overly cautious in love and business.

7° Saturn – The Mystic Realist

• Struggles between spirituality and realism.

• Finds discipline through philosophy, esoteric studies, or science.

8° Saturn – The Strategic Powerhouse

• Gains success through strategy, patience, and resilience.

• Must avoid controlling tendencies.

9° Saturn – The Expansive Teacher

• Learns through life experiences and global perspectives.

• Can feel restricted but eventually gains wisdom through travel or philosophy.

10° Saturn – The Manifestation Master

• Has a natural ability to turn visions into reality.

• Success comes from long-term planning and perseverance.

11° Saturn – The Revolutionary Authority

• Struggles with rules but eventually creates new systems.

• Can bring innovation into traditional structures.

12° Saturn – The Dreamy Worker

• A mix of practicality and creativity, needs discipline to ground dreams.

• May struggle with self-doubt or escapism.

13° Saturn – The Fearless Decision-Maker

• Gains strength through resolute choices.

• Must learn to trust instincts and avoid hesitation.

14° Saturn – The Balance Seeker

• Challenges arise in finding equilibrium between work and personal life.

• Can become an excellent mediator or peacemaker.

15° Saturn – The Legacy Builder

• Naturally drawn to leaving a mark on the world.

• Must embrace responsibility and avoid fear of failure.

16° Saturn – The Wise Guide

• Life lessons push them toward mentorship, coaching, or teaching.

• May experience early hardships that shape wisdom.

17° Saturn – The Fearless Worker

• Has strong work ethic but struggles with overworking or burnout.

• Must learn to delegate and balance effort with rest.

18° Saturn – The Deep Thinker

• Drawn to psychology, philosophy, or investigative fields.

• May struggle with rigid thinking or emotional suppression.

19° Saturn – The Bold Risk-Taker

• Learns through trial and error, often facing big life lessons.

• Gains strength through calculated risk-taking.

20° Saturn – The Patient Master

• Success is delayed but deeply rewarding.

• Must embrace delayed gratification and persistence.

21° Saturn – The Public Figure

• Challenges come through fame, public recognition, or societal roles.

• Must learn to balance personal integrity with external expectations.

22° Saturn – The Master Builder (Karmic Degree)

• Highly karmic placement, linked to great achievements or downfall.

• Requires extreme discipline, focus, and integrity.

23° Saturn – The Strategic Risk-Taker

• Learns when to push forward and when to retreat.

• Can be very calculated in business, finances, or leadership.

24° Saturn – The Romantic Realist

• Life lessons often involve love, creativity, or beauty.

• Must balance idealism with practicality.

25° Saturn – The Spiritual Worker

• Gains wisdom through spiritual studies, healing, or devotion.

• Needs structure to ground spiritual growth.

26° Saturn – The Reserved Strategist

• Prefers to work behind the scenes rather than be in the spotlight.

• Success comes through long-term planning and steady execution.

27° Saturn – The Karmic Healer

• Deeply tied to ancestral karma and healing generational wounds.

• Can become a great mentor, therapist, or spiritual guide.

28° Saturn – The Bold Traditionalist

• Faces power struggles with authority but ultimately becomes a leader.

• Can challenge old systems or reinforce them in a more evolved way.

29° Saturn – The Fated Leader (Anaretic Degree)

• Intensely karmic, often signaling a life of heavy responsibility.

• May feel like they are “tested” more than others.

• Must embrace maturity, responsibility, and resilience to succeed.

[heeluvv]

𝐓𝐔𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ✶⋆.˚

pairing ☰ tutors! jayki x student! reader

genre ☰ smut

warnings ☰ fingering, pussy eating, masturbation, handjob, teasing, etc.

natty’s notes ☰ request, mdni, hate comments will be deleted.

honestly, you still didn’t understand why you were required to take a japanese class. it wasn’t that you hated the language—if anything, it was one of the ones you had actually been interested in learning. but the one thing that completely sucked the excitement out of it?

your infuriating professor.

she made the class insufferable, her teaching methods feeling more like a punishment than a learning experience. she wasn’t necessarily unfair, just cold, strict, and utterly indifferent to whether you sank or swam. and right now, she was making it very clear that you were sinking.

you stood by her desk, hands gripping the strap of your bag, shifting uncomfortably under her stern, emotionless gaze. her face was unreadable, lips pressed into a firm line, her sharp eyes boring into yours like she could already see your failure etched in stone.

“honestly, y/n, there’s not much I can do for you.”

her voice was flat, impassive, delivering the words with no sympathy, no concern, just a matter-of-fact finality that made your stomach tighten with frustration.

“you have until the end of this semester before I have to withdraw you from this class.”

she spoke as she gathered her belongings, meticulously organizing her papers before slipping them into her bag, completely unaffected by the way your chest tightened at her words.

you clenched your jaw, forcing yourself not to roll your eyes too hard.

if it weren’t for your parents breathing down your neck about your grades, you wouldn’t have even cared about being withdrawn. but they did care. and you wanted to prove them wrong—prove to them that you were capable, that you could actually excel in something.

but you were running out of time.

“um…” you cleared your throat, your voice coming out less confident than you wanted. “is there… any tutors that I could get the contact info for? or maybe extra materials? please—” you exhaled, swallowing your pride as you looked her straight in the eye. “i beg you, just… don’t withdraw me.”

your fingers tightened around the strap of your bag, anxiety settling heavily in your chest as you waited for her response, praying she would actually give you something to work with.

she let out a heavy sigh, the kind that made it painfully clear she wasn’t all that invested in your success—but at least she was giving you something. rummaging through her desk drawer, she pulled out a small stack of business cards, thumbing through them before finally selecting one. her fingers paused over the worn edges, as if she had done this countless times before, handing desperate students the same lifeline when they had nowhere else to turn.

she slid the card across the desk, and your eyes immediately locked onto the names printed at the top—nishimura riki & park jongseong.

underneath, their contact information was neatly listed, along with a small, minimalistic logo indicating they were official, independent tutors.

“these are the tutors I recommend you reach out to,” she stated, voice still as emotionless as ever. but then she paused, tilting her head slightly before adding, “though be aware that the school does not provide financial support for their lessons. you’ll have to pay them yourself.”

your fingers tightened around the card, already feeling your wallet crying in protest.

tutors weren’t cheap—especially ones that were highly recommended. but at this point, what choice did you have?

your grades in every other class were flawless, sitting comfortably between 96-90%, a perfect record marred only by this one class, this one miserable 45% that threatened to ruin everything. you couldn’t let that happen. you wouldn’t.

so, right then and there, you made your decision.

“thank you so much.”

your voice was firm, resolute, appreciative despite the sinking realization that you were about to go broke for the sake of passing this class. still, you bowed slightly—a gesture of gratitude you rarely extended, but this was a rare moment of kindness from a woman who never once showed it.

clutching the card tightly, you turned on your heel, already feeling your mind swirl with possibilities.

who were these tutors?

and more importantly—what had you just signed yourself up for?

it had been a week since your extra japanese lessons with riki and jongseong began, though he had quickly insisted you call him jay as the three of you grew more comfortable, less formal. but any sense of familiarity disappeared the moment your lessons started—because when it came to teaching, they were unyielding, demanding, and relentless.

“do it again, y/n.”

jay’s voice was calm but firm, his sharp gaze fixed on you as you struggled to pronounce the sentence correctly. his patience was there, but only barely.

“it isn’t right. you have to listen well, doll.”

that nickname—doll.

his voice wrapped around it like silk, low and effortless, the pet name rolling off his tongue with a casual intimacy that sent a sharp tingle down your spine.

you tried again, but your tongue fumbled, the syllables coming out clumsy, and before you could even process your own frustration, riki was already speaking.

“relax, kitty.”

kitty.

the name had snuck its way in subtly over the past few days—a slow, deliberate progression from innocent teasing to something far more intimate.

“what’s wrong? you seem more out of it today.”

his tone was lighter than jay’s, more teasing, but still expectant, waiting for an answer you weren’t sure how to give.

because how could you explain it?

how could you explain the way your body betrayed you every time they spoke to you like that?

the small gestures that were casual, but never accidental—the way riki’s fingers would linger a little too long when passing you a pen, fingertips brushing the inside of your wrist, tracing just enough to leave a trail of heat.

the way jay would lean in too close, his hand ghosting over your lower back, resting there for a second longer than necessary, warm and grounding.

and now?

now it was the sweet pet names, soft and intoxicating, slipping from their lips so effortlessly, completely unbothered by how wrecked they left you.

you didn’t mind it.

but your body?

your body made it far too obvious.

every time they called you something cute, every time their voices dipped just a little lower, your cheeks would heat up instantly, a burning flush creeping up your neck.

your thighs would press together without thinking, a shameful, automatic response you tried desperately to suppress.

but the worst part—the absolute worst part—was the way they had started whispering in your ear.

you didn’t know why your ears were so damn sensitive, but the moment their breath ghosted against your skin, the moment their lips came close enough to brush against the shell of your ear—

it was over.

your entire body would jolt, a sharp shiver running down your spine, goosebumps rising along your arms as you fought to keep yourself composed.

and when it became too much—when the air between you grew too thick, too charged, too unbearable—you would abruptly excuse yourself, mumbling something about needing the bathroom, heart pounding, body burning, needing even just a moment to breathe.

but deep down?

you knew they had already noticed.

and so they tested it.

you sat right next to jay on the couch, the warmth of his broad frame pressing against your side, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off his skin. at first, you had been thrown off by the fact that their lessons were held at their apartment rather than a more formal setting, but you never questioned it. maybe you should have.

riki sat across from you, a notebook resting loosely on his lap, but his sharp gaze wasn’t focused on the pages. no, his attention was fixed entirely on you, his eyes raking over your figure, studying you like he was searching for something.

your stomach twisted slightly, an unfamiliar nervous energy settling in your chest.

because if you were being completely honest—these were the hottest tutors you’d ever had.

they carried themselves with an effortless confidence, an aura that was undeniably magnetic. the way they moved, the way they spoke, the way they played off each other so seamlessly—it was almost unfair how well they complemented one another.

riki was the playful one, always teasing, always smirking, always testing just how flustered he could make you before you snapped.

jay, on the other hand, was demanding, firm, relentless. he would make you repeat yourself over and over, pushing you until your pronunciation was flawless, sharp, precise.

and right now?

right now, both of them were watching you struggle.

your throat felt dry as you lowered your gaze back to your notes, your fingers gripping the edge of the paper tightly. you tried again, attempting to pronounce the phrase correctly, but the words came out shaky, uncertain, hesitant.

because this time—it was harder.

this time—jay was closer.

his sharp gaze bore into you, his presence looming, his breath warm against your cheek as his eyes flickered from the side of your face down to your notes.

and then—his hand.

you barely registered it at first, the way his palm came to rest on your lower back, fingers spreading slightly, his grip firm, grounding.

but the second you did, your body tensed instinctively, the heat of his touch burning through the thin fabric of your shirt.

he wasn’t moving.

he wasn’t pulling away.

he was just holding you there.

keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

“oh, you sound so fucking cute, doll.”

jay’s voice was dark, velvety, each word dripping with mockery, amusement, and something far more dangerous. his breath fanned against your skin, the heat of it sending a violent shiver straight down your spine.

“what’s wrong?”

his lips pressed against your ear, the warmth of them searing, sending your senses spiraling into overdrive.

“am i teasing you too much?”

his voice was barely above a whisper, yet it felt thunderous, making your breath catch in your throat, your pulse hammering beneath your skin.

“you can’t take it?”

a sudden, slow flick, the tip of it grazing the shell of your ear, warm and wet and deliberate, dragging along the sensitive curve before running smoothly down the length.

your body jerked, a sharp, strangled whimper tearing through your lips before you could even stop it.

it was loud, clear, undeniable.

jay chuckled, low and satisfied, his lips still pressed against your ear, savoring the way you had completely melted under his touch.

“you don’t think we notice, baby?”

your breath hitched violently, the teasing lilt in his voice sending heat pooling between your thighs.

“the way you rub your thighs together when you think we’re not looking?”

your eyes squeezed shut, embarrassment flooding you, but it didn’t matter—because they had already seen everything.

“the way your skirt always rides up when you sit on this couch—”

jay’s fingers ghosted over your bare thigh, tracing light, lazy patterns, just enough to make you squirm.

”—only to get up and leave a wet patch behind?”

your entire body flushed hot, a wave of humiliation and arousal crashing over you all at once.

riki, who had been watching in silence, let out a low chuckle, shifting slightly where he sat, his eyes glinting with something wicked.

“did you really think we wouldn’t notice, kitty?”

you swallowed hard.

they had been paying attention all along.

before you could even process the overwhelming heat of jay’s breath against your ear, another sensation sent a violent shudder through your body—a second pair of lips, warm and teasing, pressing against your other ear.

riki.

his breath was heavier, thick with something raw, unfiltered, a deep, gravelly hum of satisfaction slipping past his lips as he leaned in closer, closer, closer—until you could feel the low grunts vibrating against your skin.

your entire body tensed, every nerve alight with desperate need, your pussy clenching involuntarily at the sheer sound of them.

you could feel the evidence of your arousal, your slickness spreading, seeping onto your inner thighs, dampening the fabric of your panties, clinging to your heated skin.

“what do you think about that gets you so fucking wet, baby?”

riki’s voice was silky, slow, edged with amusement, his fingers gliding down from your jaw, tracing along your collarbone, ghosting over the exposed skin peeking through your slightly disheveled school shirt.

had it been this loose before?

or had they noticed the way you subconsciously tugged at it, the way you unknowingly tried to expose more skin, craving their touch before you even realized it yourself?

his fingers barely skimmed the surface, teasing over the delicate fabric as if testing how far he could go before you completely crumbled.

“you probably think about us fucking you so hard, baby, hm?”

jay’s voice came low, dark, unforgiving, each syllable dripping into your ears like poison.

“wanting our dicks so deep inside you?”

your breath hitched sharply, the vivid imagery in his words sending a sharp, nearly unbearable ache straight to your core.

“or do you think about the way we’d finger fuck you so well—”

jay’s fingers danced lower, trailing over your stomach, stopping just before they reached where you needed them most, his touch hovering, taunting, cruel.

”—feeling you clench around our fingers, so fucking desperate to cum all over them, hm?”

a broken, shaky breath escaped you, your thighs pressing even tighter together, but it was useless.

because they had already noticed everything.

you couldn’t take it anymore.

the aching heat between your thighs was unbearable, an insatiable fire burning deep in your core, demanding relief—demanding them. you tried—desperately, hopelessly—to create some kind of friction, rubbing your thighs together, squeezing them tight, but it was pathetic. useless.

it wasn’t enough.

it would never be enough.

“please…”

the word slipped from your lips in a soft, wrecked whimper, your voice barely above a breath, pleading, helpless, needy.

their hands were everywhere, slow and teasing, fingertips grazing over your exposed skin, tracing lazy patterns, skimming over your arms, your waist, the dip of your thighs—but never where you needed them.

you squirmed, writhed, arched into their touch, your body betraying you completely.

“please what, baby?”

riki’s voice was low, dark, dripping with amusement, his words vibrating through you, making the heat pulse even stronger, deeper, sharper.

his eyes raked over you, intense, unreadable, his gaze settling on the way your legs clenched together, your body fidgeting with desperation.

“what does the princess want?”

he knew.

he fucking knew.

and still—he wanted to hear you say it.

your breath hitched, your lips parting, quivering, shame and desire twisting inside you, making your stomach tighten with longing.

“touch me, please…”

the words were barely audible, fragile, broken, as if even admitting it shattered whatever restraint you had left.

and the second they left your lips—jay and riki exchanged a glance.

a knowing glance. a dangerous glance.

jay was the first to break, his restraint snapping like a frayed thread, his movements slow but deliberate as he sank to his knees before you.

his hands glided down your thighs, fingers spreading over your skin, thumbs pressing just lightly enough to make you shiver. the warmth of his palms sent a shockwave through your body, leaving goosebumps in their wake as he gently but firmly parted your legs.

the moment you were fully exposed to him, he stilled.

his jaw clenched, his dark eyes locked onto the mess between your thighs, the way your slick had completely soaked through your panties, the way your inner thighs glistened under the dim light.

you were dripping, ruined, so fucking wet for them that the sight alone had his breath staggering, his self-control crumbling.

“holy fuck—”

his voice was low, strained, laced with something raw and primal.

his fingers hovered, barely grazing the damp fabric of your panties, the delicate material completely drenched, clinging to your folds like a second skin.

he let his fingers linger, running a slow, lazily teasing stroke along the seam, feeling how sticky, how completely soaked you were, his touch coming back slick and glistening.

his fingers pressed down just slightly, not enough to give you what you needed, but just enough to make your hips twitch, your breath hitch, your body ache for more.

“so fucking wet—fuck…”

his voice came out hoarse, almost dazed, as if he couldn’t quite believe how wrecked you already were for them.

he dragged his fingers up one more time, watching how easily they slid over your slick-covered panties, his gaze flickering up to meet yours, heavy-lidded, intense, completely locked in.

“all this for us, huh, baby?”

his smirk was pure sin, his fingers still teasing, still lingering, still refusing to give you what you were so clearly begging for.

jay’s fingers hooked into the waistband of your soaked panties, his movements agonizingly slow, dragging the flimsy fabric down your legs, letting them pool at your feet.

he made no move to remove your skirt, instead lifting it just enough before pushing himself underneath, as if the idea of you still being partially clothed only fueled his hunger more.

his breath was hot, teasing, suffocating as it ghosted over your exposed, dripping cunt, the warmth sending a violent shiver straight through your spine.

his tongue flicked out, licking broad, wet strokes over your folds, no hesitation, no build-up—just pure, unrelenting hunger.

“oh—fuck!”

a loud, broken moan was ripped from your throat, your body jerking violently, hands flying out in search of something—anything—to ground yourself.

but the only thing within reach was riki.

your fingers clamped down on his thighs, nails digging in, gripping hard, using him as leverage as waves of pleasure crashed through you.

“you like it, baby?”

riki’s voice was smooth, teasing, dripping with dark amusement as he watched your wrecked state.

“love the way jay is making you feel, huh?”

his hands fumbled with his belt, undoing it with one swift motion, his pants falling to his thighs as he pushed his boxers down next.

his cock sprang free, thick, heavy, flushed an angry red, the tip leaking with precum, twitching with every subtle movement.

before you could even register it, he was already grabbing your wrist, guiding your trembling hand towards him.

he wrapped your fingers around his length, the warmth of your palm making him groan lowly, deep from his chest.

“just like that, baby.”

his fingers covered yours, guiding your hand down his cock, then back up, slow, torturous strokes.

your touch was hesitant at first, but the moment you felt the throb of his veins, the sheer heat of him pulsing against your palm, thick and overwhelming—you squeezed slightly.

his breath hitched, sharp and ragged.

“uh—fuck.”

his head tilted back slightly, his jaw clenching as he let you pump him slowly, the pace still dictated by his hand over yours.

his head tilted slightly, his lips still pressed against the shell of your ear, his breath ragged, heavy, each exhale sending waves of heat coursing through your veins.

a deep, low groan rumbled from his chest, vibrating against you, his body tensing as the pleasure surged higher.

“fuck, baby…”

his voice was gritty, strained, filled with something dark and unfiltered, and the sound alone made your fingers tighten instinctively around his cock.

his movements against your hand grew rougher, needier, his hips jerking forward, pushing himself deeper into your grip, chasing more friction.

“what are your parents gonna say, hmm?”

his tone was mocking, teasing, utterly shameless, his lips grazing your heated skin, enjoying the way your body twitched, trembled, clung to every syllable that dripped from his tongue.

“being eaten out and fisting my dick in your hand like a good girl—”

his grip on your wrist tightened, his hips grinding forward, forcing you to stroke him faster, harder.

”—just for your tutors, huh, baby?”

his words sent a violent shudder ripping through your body, your entire form tensing, burning, aching, the filth of his voice intertwining with the relentless, sinful pleasure that jay was unleashing on you.

loud, helpless cries tore from your throat, your body completely at their mercy, caught between the wrecking force of their touch.

jay’s tongue was devastating, licking, flicking, sucking your clit mercilessly, his lips sealing around the sensitive bud, his tongue moving in tight, endless figure-eights against your cunt.

nonstop. precise. cruel.

“so fucking sweet, baby—fuck…”

jay groaned against you, his voice muffled against your folds, his grip tightening around your thighs, keeping you right where he wanted you.

riki’s cock throbbed against your palm, thick and heavy, his body shuddering under your touch, the sight of you falling apart beneath them only making him ten times harder.

“jay!”

your cry tore through the room, loud, desperate, completely wrecked as he slammed three fingers into you at once, the sudden stretch making your entire body jolt against the couch.

your walls fluttered, struggling to adjust to the sudden intrusion, but jay gave you no time to recover.

his fingers moved instantly, expertly, setting a steady, merciless rhythm, curling just right, pressing against that deep, devastating spot inside you.

your thighs trembled violently, muscles clenching as his tongue and mouth never once faltered, sucking, licking, flicking over your swollen clit, his mouth working in perfect sync with his fingers.

your hips jerked up, completely out of your control, grinding against his face, chasing more, needing more, your body fighting to keep up with the overwhelming pleasure.

but the pleasure didn’t just stop there.

your hand tightened around riki’s cock, your strokes growing faster, rougher, every motion slick and effortless from the precum leaking down his length.

“oh fuuuck, doll—don’t stop.”

riki’s moan was loud, ragged, his chest heaving, his breath coming out in short, heavy huffs, his head tilting back against the couch, exposing the long curve of his throat.

his abs tensed, flexed, his fingers digging into your thigh as he thrust into your hand, his body rocking in sync with every stroke, completely unraveling under your touch.

the sounds in the room were obscene—jay’s muffled groans, the wet, messy sounds of his fingers pumping into you, curling, stretching, wrecking you.

riki’s low, breathless curses, the slick drag of your palm up and down his cock, the way his hips jerked forward, his need for relief just as desperate as yours.

you were losing control.

and they were loving every second of it.

the coil in your stomach twisted, tightened, pulled impossibly taut, the sensation so intense it had your hips jerking back desperately, fucking yourself onto jay’s fingers, chasing your release.

a low chuckle vibrated from beneath your skirt, the sound dark, amused, completely in control.

“that’s it, doll.”

jay’s voice was muffled, drenched in satisfaction, his fingers curling deeper, faster, sharper, pressing against that spot with every precise thrust.

but riki—riki was falling apart just as fast.

his moans grew louder, more raw, his breath coming out in jagged, uneven gasps, his cock twitching violently against your grip.

“oh fuck—fuck, baby—”

his voice broke, deep and wrecked, his hips snapping forward, fucking into your palm, completely at the mercy of your touch.

“i’m gonna cum—fuck, i’m gonna cum—”

his head tilted back, exposing the long line of his glistening throat, his lips parted, eyes squeezed shut, his entire body shuddering violently.

his cock throbbed aggressively, the final jolt of pleasure hitting him hard, sending thick, hot ropes of cum spilling over your hand, painting your fingers, dripping down his stomach in messy streaks.

he groaned, low and breathless, his fingers digging into your thigh, his entire body tensing as the aftershocks tore through him.

the warm, sticky evidence of riki’s release covered your hand completely, thick ropes of cum coating your fingers, dripping down your palm, the sheer mess of it making your stomach twist with something filthy and overwhelming.

his cock twitched violently, still spilling out more, more, his breath ragged and uneven, body shuddering beneath your touch.

but it was the final pulse, the last desperate throb against your palm, that tipped you over the edge.

your orgasm hit like a lightning strike, a sharp, suffocating wave of pleasure that ripped through every nerve in your body, blinding, consuming, devastating.

“fuck—”

your thighs clamped down hard around jay’s head, trembling uncontrollably, your entire form jerking, writhing, completely at his mercy.

“fuck yeah, baby—just like that.”

jay’s voice was gravelly, thick, dripping with satisfaction, but he never stopped.

his mouth sealed tighter around you, his tongue working even faster, greedier, messier, as if he could drink you in completely, pull every last drop of pleasure from your body.

his groans vibrated against your core, the sound deep, guttural, completely wrecked, sending aftershocks pulsing through you, making your thighs shake even harder.

his hands gripped your hips, forcing you even closer, pressing you into his mouth, making sure you had nowhere to run from the overwhelming sensation.

“mmm, fuck—”

he was moaning against you, slurping, sucking, devouring, his tongue flicking fast, unrelenting, determined to lap up every single drop, to prolong your high until you were nothing but a shaking mess beneath him.

he was obsessed with the way you tasted, the way you trembled, the way you completely fell apart for them.

and even as your body shuddered, completely spent, completely wrecked—they still weren’t done.

natty’s notes ☰ 💗 anonnnn i hope you liked it !

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Trump’s Tiktok two-step is a lesson for future presidents

I'm about to leave for a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me on Feb 14 in BOSTON for FREE at BOSKONE , and on Feb 15 for a virtual event with YANIS VAROUFAKIS. More tour dates here.

Remember the Tiktok ban? I know, it was ten million years ago (in Musk years, anyway), so it may have slipped your mind, but let me remind you: Congress passed a law saying Tiktok was banned. Trump said he wouldn't enforce the law. The end.

No, really. I mean, sure, there's a bunch of bullshit about whether Trump will pick up the ban again after Tiktok's grace period ends, depending on whether they sell themselves to his creepy wax museum pal Larry Ellison. Maybe he will. Maybe Tiktok'll buy so many trumpcoins that he forgets about. Whatevs.

The important thing here is: Congress passed a (stupid) law and Trump said, "I've decided not to enforce that law" and then that was it:

https://prospect.org/justice/2025-01-31-trump-administration-test-supreme-court-tiktok/

Sure, there's some big rule of law/checks and balances/separation of powers problems here, and there are plenty of laws I'm mad about Trump not enforcing (like the law that says corporations can't bribe foreign governments, say). But this one? Sure, it's fine. The problem with Tiktok is that it invades our privacy in creepy ways, not that it is owned by a Chinese company. I don't want Zuck or Musk or (especially) Trump invading my privacy.

Congress hasn't passed a consumer privacy law since 1988, when they banned video store clerks from telling newspapers about your VHS viewing habits. That's why Tiktok is a problem. Pass that law, and if any president decides not to enforce it, I'll be mad as hell and I'll be right there in the streets next to you, in head-to-toe CV dazzle, with all my distraction rectangles in Faraday pouches, shlepping a placard bearing the Social Security Numbers of every Cabinet member in giant writing.

But the point is, the president defied Congress, which is a thing that Very Serious Grownups told us radicals Joe Biden mustn't do under any circumstances, lest the resulting constitutional crisis tear the country apart, or, at the very least, alienate so many voters that Donald Trump would become the next president.

We let Very Serious Grownups call the shots, and Donald Trump is president. Maybe we should stop listening to Very Serious Grownups?

Look, presidents ignore Congress's laws all the time. The Comstock Act (which effectively bans transporting pornography and contraception) is almost entirely ignored, and has been for generations (though Trump's creepy Heritage Foundation puppetmasters have promised to bring it back). The Robinson-Patman Act hasn't been enforced since the Reagan years, which is a damned shame, because Robinson-Patman would put Walmart, Amazon, Dollartree and Dollar General out of business (Biden started to enforce Robinson-Patman again during his last year in office):

https://pluralistic.net/2024/08/14/the-price-is-wright/#enforcement-priorities

I'm not trying to say that enforcing (or ignoring) the Comstock Act is the same as ignoring (or enforcing) the Robinson-Patman Act. The Comstock Act is bad, and the Robinson-Patman Act is good. I am capable of making that moral judgment, and I would like to have a president who does the same.

The fear about Trump ignoring the laws and procedures is justified, but not because of the damage he's doing to laws and procedures – it's because of the damage he's doing to the people of this country and the world.

Take the records that Trump has destroyed – vital data about public health and other subjects (thankfully, most of this was saved from destruction by the Internet Archive). The most important fact about that act of destruction is the harm that will result from it, not the failure to follow procedure.

There are plenty of times in which I am OK with people ignoring the law and destroying records. In 1943, Dutch guerrillas bombed the civil registry building in Amsterdam, to keep the records of where Jews and other disfavored minorities lived out of the hands of occupying Nazis. The firefighters on the scene kept their hoses running until any paper that hadn't been burned was reduced to slurry:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1943_Amsterdam_civil_registry_office_bombing

I'm fine with destroying records that wicked, vicious authoritarians would use to harm my neighbors.

Remember when Biden tried to cancel student debt? He could have started off by destroying the records of who owed what, so when the courts overturned his administrative action, it would have been hard or impossible to collect on the debts that were still held on federal books, or whose records the feds had (no, I'm not suggesting that Nazi death camp deportations are equivalent to unjust student debt collections, but if you agree that sometimes it's OK to illegally destroy records, then all we're left with is haggling over the specifics).

Sure, this would have been a constitutional crisis, but, as Ryan Grim says, "It is apparently unconstitutional for the president to instruct the Department of Education to restructure and forgive some student loan debt but it is ok for DOGE chair Elon Musk to just get rid of the whole department. Anywho."

https://twitter.com/ryangrim/status/1888973174819164663?t=Cd8fl4FWjY5zsOlQWZGv4g

Canceling debt isn't forgiving debt. Student borrowers have been preyed upon by colleges and lenders. People who borrowed $79.000 and paid back $190,000 can somehow still owe $236,000 do not need to be forgiven, because (unlike Trump) they haven't sinned. Rather, their debts need to be canceled (like Trump):

https://pluralistic.net/2020/12/04/kawaski-trawick/#strike-debt

Trump's shown us what a president should do when the courts get in their way: fight back. Worst case scenario is the court prevails, and a bunch of Fedsoc judges (up to and including the Supreme Court) set binding precedent that reduces the power of the president, which would be, you know, great. Best case scenario: Americans are freed from these crippling, fraudulent debts and, you know, vote for Democrats and against Trump, instead of staying home because they don't feel like the Democrats have their back.

Defying unjust court decisions isn't Trumpian – it's Rooseveltian. Roosevelt (following in Lincoln's footsteps) spent years discrediting and weakening the Supreme Court's power, using his bully pulpit to rob them of authority and build the political will to pack the court, which he was on the brink of doing when the Supreme Court surrendered:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/20/judicial-equilibria/#pack-the-court

Democrats developed an online organizing playbook, and it worked, so Republicans took it, improved on it, and won elections. Republicans have developed a devastatingly effective constitutional hardball playbook. Democrats should steal that playbook and run with it:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/18/states-rights/#cold-civil-war

I rang doorbells, made phone calls, and shelled out money for Democrats in the last cycle because I wanted them to do stuff that helps Americans, not because I wanted them to follow procedures. The fact that Trump is building offshore concentration camps and has deported our neighbors to them (to name just one of many cheap dystopian fanfics that Trump is LARPing) should be the kind of five-alarm fire that sent South Korean lawmakers scaling the barricades last month.

This is the kind of crisis where I'd expect Democrats on the Hill, at a minimum, to be refusing to give Trump and the GOP anything. Call quorum on every vote. Debate every amendment. Raise every objection. Vote against everyting. Do not confirm a single appointee. And any elected Dem that refuses to play along? Kick 'em out of the caucus. Oh, we can't afford to do that because we can't afford to lose a single lawmaker? How did that work out with Kirsten Synema and Joe Manchin? Shoulda kicked them out after the first vote, shoulda raised money for any real Dem willing to primary them. Should have shunned them in the hallways and refused to invite them to the Christmas parties. We should do that to Fetterman. Party unity got us nothing under Biden. Party unity got us Trump. Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different outcome isn't actually the formal definition of insanity, but it is nevertheless very, very stupid.

For the past four years, Very Serious Grownups in the Democratic machine kept telling us that we couldn't expect the president to do anything, or Congress to do anything, or the Senate to do anything, because the Republicans would stop them. Or the courts would stop them. Why fight when you know you're gonna lose? Because sometimes, you'll win. And even if you lose, you'll go down fighting.

Better yet, if you lose in just the right way, you'll force Trump's judges to take away powers from the President and the administrative agencies – take away the powers Trump is now wielding like a sledgehammer.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/02/11/you-and-what-army/#student-debt

[criibibi]

Synopsis: After losing so much, Spider-woman learns to just keep moving. Only for her to end up somewhere far from home. Her first agenda is figuring out where she is, and how to get back. The only problem is that she ended up somewhere fictional (to her). Playing hero with Batman was not in her bingo cards this year. Hopefully she will be able to make it back home before she catches unwanted attention.

Masterlist: Prev; Next;

Chapter 2 - Spider Luck

Morning came quickly despite the shitty sleep you received that night. The constant tossing and turning, the constant fear and anxiety of getting caught or broken into, really you couldn’t catch a break. 

Despite that, you did get some sleep, even if the sum total was like three hours. Still, it’s not like the nightmares would have let you sleep regardless. All your failures would consume your thoughts and drown you, reminding you of your losses. 

Sure you moved on, but it’s not like you had forgotten. Uncle Ben’s wisdom, Aunt May’s lessons, and Peter Parker’s kindness. You vowed to honor and cherish those memories, but here you are, in another fucking world, with a high possibility of you breaking some laws just to get out.

Desperate people do crazy shit, and you aren’t that sane to begin with.

Luckily this motel has a shower and you plan to use it. Making sure to clean yourself with what you have (unfortunate) and pick up the necessities that you desperately need. 

Taking your time (since you paid for it) you get yourself ready, making sure your mask, gloves and (stolen) wallet are secured inside the hoodie’s pockets. Suite nice and tucked underneath the turtleneck and leggings. First order of business is shoes. Maybe that should have been your first mission yesterday- oops. 

You definitely should have followed the young spiderlings example and fight crime with shoes. Well if you ever meet them again, you will…

When you meet them again. You will. You have to. No matter the cost.

And then your stomach rumbled. “Great! Time for cheap food. Wonder if that knockoff Wack-Donld place is open. 

Oh that’s a nice plan. But you forgot one thing, genius. Where is it? How would you know where it is? You can’t even map it since you also don’t have a phone. 

About to unlock the door, you realized something. It already was unlocked… “Hmm…” Well, it was good that you webbed the door then.

“Fuck.” Leaving the motel keys at the front, you skedaddled your way back into the streets, looking for either a bodega or a shoe store. In order to keep yourself somewhat sane, you start softly humming music you recall Miles shared with you.

After some time of walking around aimlessly (you avoided asking others for directions, gods know gothamites unwritten rule is to mind your fucking business), you found a thrift store.

Guess what you realized while browsing for shoes. If you buy and fight crime with shoes, and (as of right now) are your only pair, you will get found out. So crocs it is!

Black ones, because white gets dirty too damn easily.

Finding your size and other clothing necessities, face-mask, a backpack and a portable sewing kit, you were good to go and all for a cheap price! God you love thrift stores. You used to go to as many and as often as you could with Peter. Ya had a bad spending habit and Peter certainly never discouraged you. He was your terrible financial buddy.

Not now! You can’t reminisce right now, not until you found a way home. Asking the cashier for directions while also subtly declining their phone number (your excuse is that your phone got stolen) you made it to a corner store. Hurray!

Making sure to stock up on snacks, since- let’s be real, this will be your food source for a while, (no income, remember, silly) you stand in line to pay before your spider sense goes off.

Behind you. There’s a man, hoodie on, looking down, covering their face, hands buried inside their pockets. You’re betting it’s either a gun or a knife. 

“Don’t move or I’ll shoot.” Oh, it’s a gun. How original.

The cashier seemed to clock in to what is occurring and subtly reaches under his counter. Not subtle enough because the man behind you yelled, pulling out his gun and pointing at the back of your head.

What the fuck spider luck.

You quickly assess your surroundings, making note that there is only one exit, two normal people not including you but including the gunman, and the room feels tight and too small to do anything.

Conclusion? You’re fucked. 

“I said don’t move, hands up! Give me the money, all of it!” From the corner of your eyes you can see just how fidgety this man was. Probably trigger happy if you do something stupid.

“He-hey man, I don’t got much in here.” The cashier had his hands in the air, trembling and freaking out. 

“I don’t care, give me the money! Yours too, bitch. Now!”

How rude. “Alright, I’m going to get my wallet. Don’t shoot.” You made slow movements of reaching into your pocket for the wallet.

“Hurry up! Both of you!” The thug yelled impatiently. You could practically feel how sweaty and anxious this guy is.

You watched the employee open up the cashier and take the money out. The assailant motioned for you to place your wallet on the counter, which you do and step to the side, getting out of his way. Just as he goes to grab the money you quickly grab the wrist with the gun and twist it, making sure he dropped it before smashing his head onto said counter, money flying everywhere. 

Both you and the cashier watched the assailant fall to the ground, nose bleeding and out cold. “Um,” The cashier looked at you, spooked. “I panicked.”

Hey look at that, no shots fired baby! Ya still got it! You are a pro-fess-io-nal~!

“Hey man, no-um no sweat. You saved me.” He replies with a tremble in his voice.

“Cool, cool, I also didn’t want to get shot. How much for my stuff?” You asked, picking up the money on the floor, handing it back while placing your snacks on the counter..

“What stuff? I see nothing. Just go. I already called the cops.” Oh, so he wasn’t reaching for a gun (corner stores usually have one under the counters) but a buzzer or something? Nice, cool, great.

“Thanks buddy!” Hey man, free food is a blessing. Picking up your wallet and bag of snacks, you step over the knocked out guy, (pick pocketing any cash he had on him,) picking up the gun with your sweater sleeve and placing it at the counter. “Here, for the cops.”

“Thanks so much, again for everything. Hey, can I get a name? For the next time you come and…buy stuff.” He shot his shot.

“I appreciate it man, but I don’t give out my name like that. You know?”

And he missed.

“Ye-yeah…” He looked like a kicked puppy.

Just as you stepped out you heard the sound of a motorcycle nearby and your senses went off again.

“Stop right there, not another step.” A third party voice joins the fray.

What the fuck, spider luck?!

Instantly you recognize the vigilante in front of you but regardless you are not taking any chances today. 

Taking a step back inside the store, making sure to close the door on the guy. “Um, hey not to alarm you or anything but there is a guy with a mask standing outside.” Bringing your hands up (again) you back away from the entrance, snack bag swinging around with your movements. 

The employee nods pulled out the pistol from the counter (what the fuck, why would you grab that with your fingers my dude?) and aimed.

Well at least he doesn’t hold grudges for being rejected.

The door swung open and there stood a masked vigilante, but a familiar bat symbol on his chest caught the employee’s attention.

“Oh thank god it’s not another one.” Putting the pistol again he sighed in relief.

“Ah!” The yellow vigilante turned his focus onto you, (who backed up so much you tripped over the k.o.ed dude, fucking embarrassing) hands still in the air and snacks littering the floor.

Some professional you are. Fuck you spider luck.

“I didn’t steal anything, I swear.” God, you're embarrassed and stressed.

The vigilante ponders for a few seconds, taking in the scenario, glancing at the employee who nods and turns his attention back. “Sorry about that. Here.” He extends a hand out towards you and to not be suspicious you hesitantly take it, your body tenses on instinct, pulling away immediately.

“Thank you.” you mumbled silently cringing at your embarrassment over spilled snacks.

“What happened?” He still faced you but you knew that question was for the other party member. And even if it was for you, you’re silent.

“That dude tried to rob us and they knocked him out. Oh,” The cashier looked at his hands. “This is his.” And placed the pistol on the counter.

This looks like the perfect time to poof away so you do. Right after you pick up your snacks. Signal sees this and silently aids you. “You both aren’t hurt, right? Need medical assistance?”

No you fucking don’t.

Holding out the bag as Signal placed the last snack in you as you shook your head. “I’m a-okay. Thank you though.” And you walk out for the second time. You could still feel his eyes on you until the door closes.

And guess who shows up.

The men in blue.

“Hold it right there.” Bro, you just want to be left alone, is that so much to ask? This time instead of bringing your hands up (for a third time), you instead clutch your bag to your chest, mask down and point inside, making sure your voice matches your facial expression.

“In there, he stopped him there.” meek, timid, nervous.

It seems to have worked as the pair of policemen entered the store and you didn’t think twice and booked it (in a non suspicious manner- if you run, they might chase). Passing by a yellow motorcycle you take a glance back and see the vigilante stepping outside the store, looking somewhat bothered in the presence of the authorities. 

Sucks to suck, bud, you know that feeling very well, not your problem anymore.

As if feeling your eyes on him he turns his face towards you, your eyes meeting a mask. Oh fuck! You felt your hair stand up. Holding his gaze for a few seconds before turning away (any other abrupt movement would definitely make you look suspicious) you continue on your way.

Forcing yourself to not tense up and fight the urge to shiver at his cold gaze you round the corner and you feel somewhat safer again. But it’s a false sense of security, because you know you’re slowly losing your mind.

Hopefully you won’t run into him or any of the other bats.

-

Duke Thomas was patrolling his territory, the Narrows, when he got a notification.

“Signal, there’s a robbing occurring five blocks from your location. The corner store Convenience. Know it?” Oracle’s voice spoke through the comms.

“I know my way. I’m checking it out now.”

“Checking the cameras- there are only three people inside. The assailant, a civilian, and an employee.”

“Got it-”

“Oh wait. Huh, well look at that.” Disbelief could be heard through the comms.

“What is it?” Did things escalate too fast?

“The civi knocked the guy out. Basically one move.” Color Oracle impressed.

“I’m here, anything else I should know about?”

“I’m scanning what I can see of their face, but I’m coming up blank. I’ll let you know if anything.”

Duke didn’t reply, instead as he pulled up he saw someone coming out of the store. “Stop right there, not another step.”

He watched the figure (gender unidentifiable with the oversized hoodie) freeze before making eye contact with him-er his visor. Despite the hood being down, he could not see their face completely with their mask, only their eyes and hair. Just a normal civilian, who apparently knocked out a guy with a gun.

Then silence and no movement.

Until the civilian backed away, closing the store door.

Stunned for a moment, Duke could hear Oracles snort through the comms. “Think they’re scared?”

“From what, me? They took down a guy with a guy and I scared them?” 

“Careful, gun pointed straight at you inside.” warned Oracle.

He moves towards the front door, pushing it open to see the civilian from earlier backing away still, hands up before turning his attention to the employee with a gun. “Oh thank god it’s not another one.”

“Ah!” A yelp caught his attention and it seems the civi tripped on the knocked out guy he just noticed. They immediately spoke, catching his eyes,“I didn’t steal anything, I swear.” 

Duke holds in a snort before glancing at the employee who nods in confirmation before he focuses on the fallen person. He calmly walks towards them, taking note of their discomfort and reaches his hand out. “Sorry about that. Here.” 

Despite his covered eyes somewhat obscuring his vision, he couldn’t will them away from this stranger’s visible face. 

Duke watched their hesitation but placed their hands in his, and he swore he felt a spark that sent shivers down his spine. How curious. He pulled them up, noting just how light they felt in his hold.

“Thank you.” Their voice was soft, but audible.

They quickly pulled their hand away, the warmth gone. His hand held its place for a couple of seconds before he let it fall to his side. “What happened?” He still faced the civilian, both unmoving. He already knew what occurred, Oracle told him everything, but he wanted to hear them talk more.

Only the employee replied. He took note of their lack of eye contact. 

“That dude tried to rob us and they knocked him out. Oh,” Duke glanced as the cashier placed the gun on the counter. He’ll leave that for the cops to pick up if they don’t get here before he leaves. “This is his.”

His attention is once again stolen as the civilian in front of him kneels to pick up their half empty bag. Standing above them, he notes the tips of their ears are red, how cute.

“You good there, romeo? You kinda have a staring problem.” Oracle’s voice snapped him out of his trance.

Duke cleared his mind (he hoped he didn’t look weird or creepy, yikes) before leaning down as well and helped pick up the tossed chip bags.

Though he did take his time, just to squeeze a bit more time with this civilian that he has yet to identify. “You both aren’t hurt, right? Need medical assistance?” He mostly directed this question to them than the cashier behind him. He wonders if Oracle figured out this civilian's name. 

Placing the last snack inside the plastic bag he watches them straighten up before shaking their head. “I’m a-okay. Thank you though.” His eyes couldn’t seem to leave their figure as he watched them walk out the door.

“Cops outside, Signal.” Oracle once again breaks his attention. 

“Got it.” Duke turns his attention to the guy on the floor, sitting him up as two officers enter the store. One takes the guy off his hands while the other questions the employee, taking the gun.

A slight restless feeling took over him and he made his way outside, the one carrying the passed out guy following. Duke quickly takes notice of eyes watching him and he turns to see the complete unmasked civilian from earlier. 

This time, he really felt like he had a staring problem. He drinks up their appearance like water. Their nose, lips, face shape, everything. He didn’t know how to explain it, but he really couldn’t look away this time. Everything around him suddenly felt silent. He felt his body shiver.

Such a pretty face, this civilian caught his breath regardless. He’s not one to lose himself by a pretty face but it seems this one was an exception. He felt mesmerized, entranced, and tongue-tied. Something about this person had a strong lock on him, and he couldn’t help but feel somewhat excited then put off. It felt like a very tight leash, and he doesn’t mind one bit.

Three seconds. Ever since he caught their gaze, they made eye-contact (despite him wearing a mask) before she looked away and left, turning the corner. (Their features look pretty feminine so he’s going with her). 

“Anything Oracle?” He mumbled, still a bit lost.

“No dice. How strange…”

Bummer. He mounts his ride and drives off to finish the rest of his patrol. He’s tempted to drive in the direction the civilian went to, but he wills himself to not do that. God it’s like he’s down bad. Really bad.

Hopefully he gets to see you soon, it seems you’re staying in the Narrows which increases his chances to see you. As much as he curses himself internally, he hopes he can save you next time something dangerous happens again.

Something formed in the pit of his stomach, and he doesn’t know if it’s desire or obsession.

Regardless, he embraces this feeling whole heartedly.

Prev; Next;

I struggled really hard, like REALLY hard. Duke is new to me (i only learned of him because of the webtoon) Now I'm reading issues he has been in and I don't know his character well but there is a SEVERE lack of Duke fics and I made it everyone's problem. So now he's down bad.

Updates are random and spars, no update schedule and don't plan to make one. This is my hobby not my obligation.

[bloomzone]

2025 : #6 FAILURE IS THE GREATEST TEACHER

failure is not your enemy. In fact, failure is the best teacher you will ever have. It’s raw, unforgiving, and humbling. And you know what? That’s exactly why it’s necessary.

✒️..Think about this: every success story you’ve ever heard started with failure. Thomas Edison failed over a thousand times before inventing the light bulb. Oprah Winfrey was fired from her first television job because she was "unfit for TV." Steve Jobs was kicked out of the company he founded. The difference between these people and the rest? They didn’t let failure define them. They let it refine them.

WHY DO WE FEAR FAILURE?

We fear failure because we’re conditioned to. From a young age, we’re taught that mistakes are bad. The red marks on our homework, the scolding for falling short, the shame when we didn’t measure up. Society drills this fear into us, and we carry it into adulthood like a weight on our shoulders. But YOU can’t avoid failure. You will fail, repeatedly. The question is, will you let it break you, or will you let it build you?Failure taps into our deepest insecurities. It makes us feel like frauds.. like we’re not good enough. But here’s what most people don’t understand: failure is neutral. It’s not good or bad. It’s just feedback. It’s information telling you what didn’t work so you can figure out what will.The problem arises when we attach meaning to failure—when we let it dictate our self-worth. One failed business doesn’t mean you’re a bad entrepreneur. One bad grade doesn’t mean you’re dumb..one failed relationship doesn’t mean you’re unlovable...

How to Handle Failure

1. Own It

Stop blaming circumstances, other people, or bad luck. Take responsibility. When you own your failure, you gain control over it. You’re no longer a victim of your mistakes—you’re the master of your lessons.

2. Analyze It

Every failure is a goldmine of information. What went wrong? What could you have done differently? Be brutally honest with yourself. Failure is wasted if you don’t learn from it. THERE IS NO FUCKING PROBLEM IN IT

3. Detach Emotionally

It’s easy to take failure personally, but it’s not about you. It’s about the process. Detach your self-worth from the outcome. Just because you failed doesn’t mean you are a failure.

4. Get Back Up

This is where most people falter. They stay down. They let the sting of failure paralyze them BUT the only way to overcome failure is to keep moving. Adjust your strategy, try again, and keep going.

The Benefits of Failure

It Builds Resilience: Every time you fail and get back up, you become stronger.

It Fuels Growth: Failure pushes you out of your comfort zone and forces you to adapt.

It Clarifies Your Goals: Sometimes, failing shows you what truly matters and helps you realign your focus.

It Humbles You: Success without failure breeds arrogance. Failure keeps you grounded and hungry.

You think failure is the end? No, failure is the beginning. It’s the brutal teacher that shows you exactly what you’re made of. So get up. Stop wasting time feeling sorry for yourself. Stop blaming the world for your mistakes. Own it. Fix it. And then move forward. You’re going to fail again, and again, and again. But the question is, are you going to let it break you, or are you going to let it build you? Because the truth is NO one is coming to save you. It’s on you. So pick up the pieces, put your head down, and get back to work. Failure is a lesson—use it, or stay stuck. The choice is yours.

@bloomzone 📇

[drdemonprince]

A real masterclass from Captain Awkward on the art of navigating competing agendas within a passive-aggressive friendgroup without losing your head. Every word of this needs to be read and internalized by so many people, but here are the highlights:

People often call me diplomatic, and it’s true, but not in the way they mean. Diplomacy isn’t just about being good at de-escalation, peace-keeping, compromise, or finding palatable ways to deliver hard truths. Diplomacy is about understanding power and leveraging what power you have in negotiations, which sometimes includes strategically escalating conflicts or letting them play out. You most likely don’t have the power to fix your friends’ hearts or make your group chats all run smooth, and I don’t have any magic scripts up my sleeve that will guarantee that you can, but it doesn’t mean you have no power in the situation. It’s there, just, I suspect that it’s not where you’re looking for it.

There’s this persistent idea that the *only* right way to respond to shitty interpersonal behavior is to empathize deeply with the shitty person, figure out precisely why they are being like that, and use your own compassion to create a teachable moment that fosters greater self-awareness that results in eventual behavioral change from the inside out, and anything less constitutes a failure of *your* patience & empathy. That’s where the notion that saying any version of “Hey, can you knock it off right now with the housewarming party planning?” would be “rude” and “unhelpful” comes from. If somebody’s being Rude, you’re supposed to Polite at them so hard that they Learn An Important Lesson, Eventually. A couple problems with that: What good does this do for the targets of shitty behavior? What happens if the shitty people never learn? What happens if they learn, but it’s exactly the wrong lesson? “I can be as shitty as I want, and people must be polite to me at all costs, and if they fail to tolerate my bad behavior with perfect grace, it makes them even worse than me and everything becomes actually their fault? Sweet!” What do you win if you successfully erase your anger and annoyance from all of your closest friendships and present only the most accommodating, peace-making parts of yourself? The answer to #1 is “nothing much” and the answer to #2-#4 about what happens and what you “win” is More Shitty Behavior, All The Time, Basically Forever because you’ve robbed yourself of the tools for actually addressing it, tools like, “healthy expressions of authentic emotions” and “meaningful consequences.” My pitch to you is basically, what if we changed the order of operations for dealing with someone whose behavior is out of pocket? What if we administered consequences first, and let the epiphanies sort themselves out later? If people get rapid negative feedback every time they do or say something shitty, maybe they’ll learn to think and feel differently over time, but that slow internal work is none of your business. If people wanna be assholes, they’ll need to do it somewhere else. If they want to hang out with you, there are limits on acceptable behavior.

[ms-demeanor]

This is regarding your post involving making friends. I have had a spectacular amount of failures in meetup groups, particularly involving men from multiple meetup groups trying to take advantage of me or using me. In addition to that, the other members of the groups tend are often quite rude. Also, many meetups in my area tend to fall into one of the following categories: professional seminar, mommy & me, or the other members are double my age or older. What would you advise?

Volunteering - find something you care about and see if there is a local volunteer opportunity; you might want to look into food banks or mutual aid projects.

Crafting - this will likely be an older crew, but making friends with older people is cool honestly.

Sports - see if there's a kickball league or some other variety of low-key sport that you can sign up for.

Get super into the local music scene. Go to bar shows, go to basement shows, go to backyard shows. If you go to places where they have local music and hang out a bunch you will get to know local music people eventually, which includes both people in bands and people interested in bands.

Become a regular at your local library. Go once a week at the same time of day and you'll start to get to know people.

Become a regular at something else local. If you go to the same coffee shop three times a week for a few months and are polite to the employees you will probably eventually have friends among the people there; even if you do this by walking around the neighborhood park at the same time of day you will start getting to know the park regulars people love habits and if you can become a chill part of their daily scenery they will eventually want to investigate further.

Start your own club of some kind. Maybe start a book club for a particular genre of book that you like, or start a movie group where you meet up to see a movie together twice a month. You can post things like this on meetup websites or facebook, but you can also make fliers to put up in places that you think people you might find interesting would hang out.

Join a gym and go regularly. Sometimes a random person you see all the time in a gym can go from being a reliable on-the-spot spotter to a good friend.

Take a class locally. See if your town has a community center that offers cooking classes or computer classes or any kind of classes even things you already know. I keep making jokes about improv but improv people are great; see if you can take an impov class. See if your local music store offers music classes (I made weirdly good friends with the folks at the music store where I took vocal lessons; this was a pleasant surprise!)

When you try any of these places make friendly smalltalk with the people you encounter and express interest in them. If you are speaking to employees, make sure you're giving them lots of conversational outs because attempting to befriend people who are working can feel like you're cornering them, I'd actually say don't try to befriend the employees at a business unless you go there and they attempt to befriend you, however as someone who worked in coffee shops for ten years if someone randomly started showing up for six hours a week I would almost certainly have gotten to a friendly shoot-the-shit level with them within a month; if you go out among people who are sociable and are around them enough sometimes the sociable people go "aha! new friend sighted!" and do the hard work for you, but you do have to go to places to let yourself be found by the sociable ones.)

I do not, generally speaking, use meetup groups as a generic thing as much as I look into what groups exist locally that I am interested in. If a local game store is running a weekly Magic tournament, that's a better place to meet people in my opinion than a one-time bowling event.

[steddieas-shegoes]

shit talkin' up all night

for @steddiesongfics song 'for the first time' by the script

rated m | 1,469 words | cw: alcohol, arguing | tags: angst with a happy ending, established relationship, robin buckley deserves an award for saving their relationship everyone say thank you robin, they're in love, eddie is just dumb for a bit

◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️

The arguing started when Steve suggested they move back in with Wayne.

They were struggling; Eddie wasn't an idiot, he could see the told his unemployment was taking on their financial situation. They were able to cover rent from Steve's paycheck, but they had to cut back on literally everything else. No more date nights, no more trips to visit Dustin, no more buying the good bacon for breakfast.

It wasn't for lack of trying, it's just that Eddie only had a GED and no marketable skills outside of playing music. Any job he could get would make miserable.

"I just think if we take some time to save up, maybe you'll be able to find something you like and then it'll be better," Steve shrugged.

"I'm not moving back in with Wayne. He did enough for me already."

"Then I'll get another job."

"No, you're not working two jobs. I'll just...go work at the McDonald's."

"Eds, you would hate it there."

"Well, it's a paycheck."

Steve sighed and walked away.

And then it got worse.

Eddie did find a job. He worked part time at the music lesson school. It didn't pay nearly enough, but it was something.

Until one of the parents found out he was working there and threw a fit and he got fired. The owner apologized, but said if it came down to his business and Eddie, he had to let Eddie go.

Back to square one.

Steve was too understanding. It was frustrating.

Eddie started arguments just to make him mad.

Whatever would push him: leaving all the dirty dishes in the sink, staying out late without letting him know, buying the good bacon for breakfast when it wasn't in the budget.

It did start to work eventually.

"Why are you doing this?" Steve asked eventually, after two nights of Eddie coming home late for no other reason than to make Steve upset. He hadn't even done anything, just walked around downtown for a couple hours and thought about how much of a failure he'd been.

"I'm not doing anything," he'd say back.

Steve would push.

Eddie would push back.

Little things turned into big things.

And then Eddie came home drunk.

He hadn't even been to a bar, he hadn't been with anyone else. He'd gotten one six pack of beer and realized halfway through it that he hadn't eaten all day and kept drinking anyway.

The buzz was great until he was stumbling through the front door, waking Steve up from his half-slumber on the couch of the apartment.

Steve didn't even argue. He just shook his head and went to their bedroom, closing the door and making it clear he didn't want to be around Eddie.

The next morning, Steve was already gone when Eddie managed to roll off the couch.

"Steve's not gonna say it, so I will," Robin's voice made him trip over his boots on the floor. She was sitting in the armchair, glaring at him. "You're pushing him away because you don't think you deserve someone who is patient and loving. He used to try that shit with me, with the kids, with Hopper. Started shit just to see if we'd leave. Pretended he was the only one who could deal with his problems."

Eddie blinked back at her, vision blurry from sleep and unshed tears. He wasn't gonna cry in front of Robin.

"I could understand why he did it. He had shitty parents and shitty friends before all of us. Took him some time to get used to being cared for." Robin leaned forward. "But you've had Wayne for a long time. Us. Steve. So what is it that's causing this? Why are you hurting Steve? Why are you hurting yourself?"

Eddie had been to therapy for a month or so after everything. The government insisted on it. He'd even done what they asked of him. Talked about everything that happened, talked about his childhood, talked about being gay in a town that thought being gay was bad enough to send you to hell, but somehow still the least of Eddie's crimes.

The therapist told him it seemed like he was always preparing himself to get hurt, even with the people that he did trust. That was the last time he went to the therapist.

"Because this is all I'll ever be, Robin! Steve should get out while he can, find someone who isn't fuckin' useless. Someone who can get a real job or go to school or something."

"Is this because you can't be on your feet for more than a couple hours?"

Eddie was silent.

"Do you think that means you can't do things? Do you think Steve wants to watch you suffer more than you already have?"

Eddie shook his head once.

"Then here's what you're gonna do. You're gonna shower and clean up the house a little. You're gonna cook that chicken dish Steve loves so much because I went to the deli to get fresh ingredients for you. You're gonna open that bottle of wine I did not steal from Chrissy's restaurant. You're gonna talk to him."

"Okay."

"And then tomorrow, you're gonna come interview for a job at the museum. They're opening a new exhibit called Rock Through The Ages and they're looking for someone to do tours. It's four hours a day, five days a week. Pay is more than you made anywhere else plus tips. Interview is a formality, they already know you're qualified."

"Robin, I-"

"And you're gonna shut up. I love you, too, Eddie. And I love that dingus who loves you. So get your shit together so you can both be as happy as I know you can be."

Eddie hugged her for a long time, probably much longer than Robin would have ever allowed him to if it weren't for the circumstances.

He cleaned himself up, he cleaned up the apartment, he cooked dinner, and he opened the bottle of wine.

Neither of them were big fans of wine, but this was a $100 bottle. Eddie would drink every last drop.

When Steve came through the door at 4:39 on the dot, just like he did every week day, Eddie was holding a glass of wine out to him with a small smile.

"Eds? What's this?"

"Been a while since we've had a date night. Thought maybe we deserved it."

Steve stared back at him blankly, then let out a sob and walked over to him, burying his face in his neck.

"Sh, it's okay, sweetheart. I'm right here," Eddie wrapped him up in his arms, kissing his head. "I'm here."

"You promise?" Steve's broken voice nearly tore Eddie in two. How had he let it get this bad?

"I promise, Stevie. I'm sorry I've been somewhere else in my head."

Steve pulled away, sniffling and looking around the room as he realized that dinner was already set out on the bar and the dishes were done.

"You did all this for me?"

"For us."

"Is that chicken cacciatore?" Steve walked to the plate in his usual spot and smiled. "You made this?"

"I did. Hopefully it's edible. If not, I already have the menu for the Italian place down the road by the phone," Eddie pulled Steve's chair out for him and then sat down next to him.

They talked through dinner, mostly about Steve's day, and then about Eddie's. He brought up the interview and Steve beamed like the sun.

"That sounds perfect for you, Eds."

"I know. I think it'll be great."

The bottle of wine went down easy. Maybe a little too easy.

By the time they realized it was gone, they were giggling and leaning on each other, cheeks red and eyes glazed over with a buzz that was more than just the high alcohol content.

Steve leaned in to kiss him.

Eddie leaned in to kiss him back.

And for the first time in a long time, they stayed up all night, talking, kissing, touching in ways they'd nearly forgotten how to do.

When Eddie got the job, he sent Robin flowers. Nothing fancy, the pay wasn't that good. But he had to thank her for getting his head out of his ass and his ass in shape.

Steve didn't ask when he saw the bill for it, just smiled and kissed the top of Eddie's head while he got ready for his first day of work.

"I love you. Good luck today," Steve said as he fixed his glasses before grabbing his keys to head to his job at the youth center downtown.

"Love you too. Pizza tonight?"

"Sounds good, love. Wine?"

Eddie nodded towards the bottle of $3 wine from the liquor store.

Steve laughed. "I'll grab some Tylenol on my way home."

[colebabey888]

Taking Control of Your Fears | IT GIRL DIARIES

Fear often shows up as a small, persistent voice in the back of our minds, whispering doubts and “what ifs.” This negative inner dialogue becomes a wall between us and our dreams. It might come from a fear of failure, judgment, or just feeling unsure of ourselves. That voice can hold us back from doing the things we truly want, whether it’s starting a business, switching careers, or chasing a passion project.

I’ve been there, letting that voice take over and dictate my actions—or worse, my inactions. It would tell me, “You’re going to mess this up” or “It’s not going to work.” Over time, I realized those weren’t just my own doubts but the opinions of others I’d let into my head. By having accepted their poison and allowing it to become a consistent habitual thought during doubtful times.

What if it goes wrong? So what? Even if things don’t work out perfectly, life doesn’t stop. The world keeps moving, and you can move with it. Controlling every outcome in life would be impossible, sure you can plan accordingly but you will never be certain of the result until it comes. Always choose to try, no matter what.

Truth is, we live in a world full of people with their own struggles and dreams. We have the power to shape our lives, but setbacks will happen, and that’s okay. Taking control of your fears means doing the thing, even if you’re scared, even if it doesn't work out. It means silencing the doubts and knowing that failure is just a lesson & a step forward, not the end.

So start that business, get that job, speak up in class, reach out, buy something you've always wanted to, go bungee jumping, sign up for that thing, go on that date, change your hair, go to the gym, take that cooking lesson, travel the world, take the leap. Embrace action over doubts.

With the new year approaching, take a chance, start it off doing something you've been holding back from. Begin fresh.

xoxo, colebabey888