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greensagephase · 5 months ago

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what made you wanna name the story non-violent communication?

Hiii, nonnie!! Thank you so much for the ask (and also, I'm sorry for the delayed reply! I took off tumblr yesterday)!! 🥰 Thank you for asking this question because I don't think I've ever talked about it before!!

Long story short:

THIS SONG RIGHT HERE!!!!!!!!! 🗣🗣🗣🗣 If you haven't listened to it, pls do!!😭It's one of Miguel's songs and has part of his dialogue at the end of the song before it transitions to "Givin' up (Not The One)" in the album!!! The transition is (in my humble opinion) ✨😭✨😭✨ !!!

If it has a million fans, I'm one of them. If it has one fan, I'm THAT FAN. If it has zero fans, it means I'm no longer on this Earth!!! 😤

This is my fav song from the album!! I'll explain why below the cut! I'm going to give a short (lol, I yapped too much, I gave a whole story time) explanation because I love this song sm 😭 so if you care to read a bit of an analysis on the songs, then proceed, if not, pls disregard the rest lol and thank you for sending this ask!!!

So I first heard the song a day or two before I posted the first chapter to NC, which was late July 2023. I watched the movie in June but I only listened to the songs that I really, really liked (I love all the songs but some a little more than others) that were included in the movie without listening to the full album, so I hadn't listened to this song because Miguel's songs (this one and "Givin' Up (Not The One)") are not included in the film. I only found out about "Givin' Up (Not The One)" because it was all over tiktok lol

So yeah, I listened to the song for the first time a day or two before the first chapter was posted and fun fact, the first chapter I posted for NC was actually nameless lmao!!😭😭 I didn’t know what to title it (I’ve always been bad with titles), so it was just a writing post with no title. I didn't think much of it either because my og plans were for the story to be like 3-4 chapters total (past me would've been shocked I'm still going with the story and that we're 249k ish words in just from the main parts of the story, not counting the one-shots lol).

As I mentioned, I hadn’t heard the entire album yet but after part 1 was posted, I sat down and FINALLY listened to the entire album to appreciate it (I've since then listened to the entire album like a hundred times (Metro Boomin was my #1 artist of 2023💀)) and once I listened to it in order, I immediately knew I wanted to title my fic Nonviolent Communication. 🥹❤️

When I heard both of Miguel’s songs right after the other it made something in my brain click.

I felt like it was so, so fitting for what I was trying to achieve with my story, even when I was planning to make the story like 4 chapters long lol.

So my explanation for connecting the song to my fic:

I'm probably going to sound crazy, or like someone who gave the song too much thought but hear me out.

In a way, I felt (and ofc everyone is going to find a different vibe, feeling, or meaning to a song but this was mine) like it was kind of ironic how "Nonviolent Communication" didn't receive much attention like his other song, "Givin' Up (Not The One)" did, which is more... out there (???). It's more like !!!! You know? Like the lyrics themselves and the production are more bold and strong, more “rough” for lack of a better word. Despite it not being in the film like "NC", everyone knows it! Everyone also knows Miguel's dialogue because of it, "But I'm not like the others..." and so on along with his little quote about "being Spider-Man is a sacrifice" at the end of the song.

Then, you have "Nonviolent Communication." It's the second song with the least plays on the album on Spotify (after "Nas" which is another one of my top fav songs from the album), and the lyrics and production are an entire different vibe from the other song!! It's so much more softer and vulnerable, even slower.

You let me fall first, then you dream awake I'd do anything to bring you to that other place We speak so differently alone, love like Vincent we are low Watch for constellations, soft as cloud formations That will never leave, much as duty calls If I'm in over my head, I'll swim Niagara Falls

It still has themes of being Spider-Man but it's not so !!!! like the other song is. It's truly so much more vulnerable and soft, and even has romantic themes included. And at the end of the song we have another part of Miguel's dialogue, that's often disregarded, included, "I'm this dimension's one and only, Spider-Man... At least I was," which I'm always !!!! about because one, his tone for that part is much softer (almost sad), and two, I feel like him no longer being the only Spider-Man in his own dimension goes along with him not feeling like a true Spider-Man, and no longer having this one thing to himself that he can have in common with other spider members.

I could go on about this but this is already so long 😭 but anyway, I think that part is usually disregarded, much like Miguel’s soft side that we don’t get to see a lot of in the film. We’re given very little of soft Miguel and the majority is him being angry, stressed out, scared, and frustrated (rightfully so) with what’s happening.

So, hearing both songs, I felt like they represent two sides of Miguel. One that is more direct, bold, and rough, maybe even “violent.” It’s the side that’s most known to probably all the spider people and fans alike. Some people only see Miguel as an angry man that’s determined to protect the multiverse and sacrifice anything, since he’s already given up so much.

But then there’s the side of him less known (less seen), one that we didn’t see much of but that many of us picked up on. He has a soft side despite being through a lot, and has a lot of love and care to give. He’s a man that’s capable of having nonviolent communication, someone who can fall first, speak differently with someone when he’s alone with them, and be willing to do anything to “bring” that person “to the other place” - while still being Spider-Man and sticking to his duty that comes with such title but not sacrificing those very things.

So yeah, I heard the songs and it just clicked. “Nonviolent Communication” to me is the soft side of Miguel that we don’t get to see much in ATSV, but it’s still there. And so, I decided that it was the perfect title for my fic because of my interpretation of the song and my goal with the fic: show Miguel’s soft and vulnerable side that I so desperately hope we get to see more of in BTSV (I am begging the writers to do Miguel justice!!!!!!!).

I hope this made sense, maybe as I mentioned earlier, I’ve given too much thought to this (I’m an overthinker) but that’s my version and I love the song SO MUCHH!!! It was my most heard song in 2023, so I guess that says a lot :)

If you read this far, thank you so much!! I definitely talked too much but I seriously love Miggy and this song so much and I always get so emotional listening to it lmao 😭 but yeah, thank you for the ask, nonnie!!! I hope you're having a great day/night!!!🥺🥰

-Alondra❤️

#I yapped for too long but I gotta show some love to the song <333333333333333333333 #it's truly my fav song in the album #nonviolent communication #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 #across the spiderverse #miguel spiderverse #asked and answered

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slut4agoodcause · 1 year ago

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Easy Moments - Carmen Berzatto x reader

Warnings: Smoking, Swearing, The most gorgeous man I’ve ever met

A/n : oh my god, oh my god second season June 22. Also sorry that this is at least a two parter I’m exhausted

<3 <3 <3

It had been a long night or as both Richie and chef would say, you guys got your shit rocked. Despite how prepared you guys had been it was no match for how out of sync everyone had been and how understocked you all were. Richie was throwing a fit and fucking around in the kitchen; you were this close to cutting him end to end with a paring knife the entire night. Lucky it was over, and even if you had to deal with it tomorrow you could leave it all behind for tomorrow. Really fucking early tomorrow, but tomorrow nonetheless. You shoved the apron in your locker and collected the rest of your things. You could feel the grease and sweat sticking to every inch of you. The fans only solidified the sweat making the layer of sweat thicker and feel even more suffocating.

“Chef.”

Fuck god dammit what now- you mentally whined praying that maybe you had left a pen behind or some dumb miscellaneous nonsense. Something that still let you go home within the next hour.

“Yes, Chef?” You put your attention towards him, the fluorescents allowed you to get a good look at his features. The way his jaw curved and the bump of his nose, your eyes lingering on the notch in his cheek from what you assumed was some accident that he never spoke of.

"Are you going home?" His voice seemed thick but still scratchy, eyes puffy most likely from exhaustion.

"Yeah - I mean yes, chef. As long as you don't need me here?"

He paused, his lips tugging into a sort of tired attempt to smile before answering, "No chef, thank you, have a good night."

You nodded before collecting your stuff from your locker and stepping out into the cold, you stood outside the shop shuffling your feet a bit before digging out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. You heard the hiss of the flames as the paper burned, taking a deep breath you let the smoke sit in your lungs for a moment. Chicago was cold, all the time, constantly. Which usually you hated, it made you feel like you were drowning somewhere but tonight you didn't mind, it felt good to be in this kind of cold.

"Can I have a light?"

You let your head lull over to see Carmen once again, somehow trapped in the halo of light from the city.

You flicked the lighter just under his cigarette, watching as the flame illuminated his lips and the short timid stubble that framed his face.

Every inch of you was sore and beyond exhausted but something about how easy this moment felt kept you here. Honestly, that's why you stayed at The Beef, because despite the snappy annoying, and quite horribly frustrating moments there were enough easy ones to keep you steady.

Neither of you spoke, the air felt heavy but not the crushing heavy just the kind that kept you both mute. Your phone buzzed and you scanned the pile of notifications to see the most recent message :

Hey I can’t pick you up tonight, flight was delayed. I'll see you tomorrow, sorry.

“Motherfucker.”

Carmy turned towards you ever so slightly, brows raised, lips toying with the butt of the cigarette, “something wrong?”

You shook your head, “no it’s nothing, my ride canceled on me.”

“Oh.” His head leaned against the glass window, “How do you plan on getting home then?”

You sighed out the last nicotine-soaked breath before stunning out the cigarette with your toe, and frantically searching for train routes that ran nearest to your apartment.

“The trains still run at this hour right chef?”

He glanced over at you at the sound of ‘chef’, “some do but I wouldn’t recommend it, late trains are full of drunks and creeps.”

You continued a string of curses as you checked the time , it was 2:22 and you’d have to be back by 5 anyways, it didn’t matter if you got home right this instant there was no way in hell you were gonna get close to enough sleep.

You stood there slightly paralyzed by both exhaustion and frustration, honestly if you had known this is what you were signing up for in culinary school you might never applied.

“Chef?”

Carmen had just finished his cigarette, smushing what was left into the ground. He looked up at you, in an almost slow and methodical way, “yes chef?”

“Could I sleep here, in The Beef tonight? Not even in your office just like in one of the booths or something?”

His eyebrows creased as he thought, eyes still all-encompassingly focused on you. “How far away is your apartment?”

Your brain practically melted at his words, your mind already thinking of every possible outcome to a thousand possible ways you could go about answering his question. You didn't want to make a big deal of it but you had always been skittish of people being at your place and your boss was no exception.

“About twenty minutes away chef, why?”

He thought for a second before speaking, “ theres a train that should run somewhere by your place, and I would prefer just making sure you get home safely instead of letting you sleep in one of those grimey booths.”

“You really don't have to, I think I have some mace in my bag, I can handle some drunk creeps.”

“Mace would fill the whole train up if you were to spray even the smallest amount which would rock everyone’s shit.”

You toyed with your lips a bit while you thought, it would only be twenty minutes, and then you would see each other tomorrow and it would be normal. Carmen didn't seem like the kinda guy to intrude or invite himself in. It would be okay if he watched over you, just for tonight.

#jeremy allen white #carmen berzatto smut #carmen “carmy” berzatto #the bear #the bear fanfiction #the bear fx #the bear fic #the bear season 2 #the bear series #carmy smut #carmy the bear #carmy x reader #carmy x oc #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto x you #Carmen Berzatto

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callmewrinkles3 · 2 years ago

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This Love - DR3 x fem!OC

Summary: An escape to Perth for a week helps Dan and Em to realise what they want. But they each have a secret to tell that could rip them apart before they can begin to fix each other.

Words: 5.8k

Warnings: Pregnancy loss, retirement talk, smut (piv sex, fingering, light choking)

A/N: A day later than planned, but the continuation of what’s going on to our babes in 2022! This part deals with some pretty heavy themes, so look after yourselves. Take this as a present for the 300 followers. Hope you like it and lots of love! 💜

June 2022

When Dan helped Em to bed that Monday night she didn’t really sleep. The fog that had clouded her thoughts and judgment basically since she’d left London was lifting and it was like coming back to 4K from an old VHS tape. The way she’d buried her thoughts and self in anything except thinking about what happened, the weight she’d lost, the way she didn’t feel like herself anymore. She’d buried her head in the sand and hadn’t realised what was going on until it was too late. She didn’t want to be like this anymore.

Having Dan there at her side helped. They’d decided to delay their conversation for the summer break, booking flights to LA to leave soon after the race there. It was a week talking about everything and building their relationship and a week of wine tours to celebrate her birthday. She knew it would be hard and they’d both struggle at points but it needed to happen. They were committed. They were going to tell the world about their relationship in Baku. It was going to work out for them. It had to.

Em tried to push the thoughts swirling in her brain aside but it didn’t work, her sleep fitful. She woke up to Dan kissing her forehead and she smiled up at her boyfriend. He was right there beside her and that wasn’t changing. He wasn’t leaving her. She could do this. She could talk to him about anything.

Grace and Joe were staying in Monaco and using it as a base to visit family in Italy while Em and Dan were packing for three weeks away, from Perth to Baku to Montreal. She had her packing list on her phone and Dan pulled it out of her hand.

“What happened to your screen?” He ran his finger along the broken glass, a plastic screen protector barely holding it together.

“It broke when I was away.”

“How?” She blinked and took a breath before answering. It was probably the most embarrassed she felt about how she acted when she was gone.

“I threw it against a wall.” That was a story for another day.

“We’ll get you a new one. It’s not safe to use like this.”

“Danny, it’s fine. I can get the screen changed.”

“No. Baby you’re gonna hurt yourself on it. You’ve had it nearly three years, you need an upgrade anyway.”

“Fine.” He kissed her and she smiled, not truly annoyed at him as he went to the bathroom. She was filling the case mostly for Baku and Montreal, she had clothes in Perth still. They were old but they’d work for while she was there.

Dan came out of the bathroom with the two toiletry bags, passing her the purple one she put in her checked bag and the clear one that went into her hand luggage. Em smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“I put a box of tampons in too. It’s about time you’ll need them, right?” The casual way he said it made her want to smile, but it nearly broke her at the same time. She had to tell him everything.

“Things shifted when I was away. But better safe than sorry.” They finished backing and Dan held her for a few moments as she got herself ready to leave. Final hugs went to everyone else before they went to Nice airport to start the trek to Perth.

Dan held her hand the entire way in the car, and for once they decided to take advantage of the VIP service the airport had. Usually they didn’t bother, but today it was worth it. They were escorted through security and to the lounge to sit and wait for their flight to Dubai. It was packed, a side effect of it being the day after the Grand Prix. Most of the other drivers who didn’t live in Monaco had already left the principality but they were ignored by most of the clients there. Another Formula One driver wasn’t a big deal. They spotted Kevin with his wife and daughter sitting a few tables away, smiling and waving to them.

As she watched Laura sit in Louise’s arms, babbling away, Em felt another pang of longing and loss hit her. The memories of that day four weeks ago when she realised her planned but delayed trip to the pharmacy for a test wasn’t needed anymore. That the suspicions she’d had but was too afraid to confirm for a few weeks were right but she was too late. Sobbing on her childhood bedroom floor clutching her knees to her chest because she was in the worst physical and emotional pain she could think of. She was losing the last piece of Dan she thought she’d ever have.

He needed to know. She needed to tell him and it couldn’t wait until August. It couldn’t wait for months because, selfishly, she couldn’t live with the guilt of not telling him if it was what would break them in the end. The internet had told her that it wasn’t her fault. That losing a pregnancy before twelve weeks was common, that late periods because of stress were normal. That running your pill together for three months and then not taking it for two could throw your cycle into chaos.

She had no true proof of what had happened apart from her symptoms and suspicions but it was enough for her to know. The way the constant exhaustion had eased, how the tenderness in her chest calmed within hours. The nausea she’d had stopping even though she didn’t want to eat. The nearly two week long period when before she was ever on the pill she’d been like clockwork.

Em knew the truth of what she’d lost. And she knew telling Dan was going to hurt both of them. Now that she could think clearly there was no alternative to telling him. She should have tried to get in touch no matter what to tell him and he deserved to know now.

She was quiet on the flight to Dubai, both of them taking a nap through it. Em woke to Dan’s hand on hers, his arm stretched awkwardly over the screen between them so he could hold onto her. He loves her. That was what could get her through until they were alone.

Arriving in Dubai meant that they were escorted to the first class lounge to wait out the three hours of their connection. As they got to the door Em stopped dead in her tracks. Dan was pulled back by his hand because of it and he watched her stare at the door.

“Emmy? Is everything ok?” He asked as she shook her head and bit back the tears she wanted to let out.

“We haven’t been here since last year.” She could see the moment the realisation hit him of their last time in the lounge together. When they said goodbye and he was going to Perth for New Years and she had to go back to London. The beginning of the end of everything.

“We’re going to find a table and sit, ok? Just you and me and some food. That’s all, Baby girl.”

“Ok.”

He found them a seat on the opposite side of the lounge to last time, both of them slipping into seats. Food was brought to them that Em didn’t want to eat but made herself take some bites. Dan’s arm was around her as he held her close and pushed kisses against her head. Fuck the rules, they needed this closeness.

The second flight from Dubai to Perth was eleven long hours as they fought to stay awake to try stave off jet lag. It was caffeine and watching films together, pressing the play button on their screens so they could watch them at the same time. The flight passed slowly but she held Dan’s hand whenever she could. They stayed connected like that as they got off the plane and she put her carry on over her arm to go through immigration and customs. They only let go when she had to join the non Australian line at immigration. Dan watched and waited for her as he was already through.

“What’s the reason for your visit?”

“We’re seeing my boyfriend’s family. I’ve only seen them once in the last two years and I had to leave Melbourne pretty quickly when I did. We have a spare week so wanted to see them.”

“Is your boyfriend Australian? Is he travelling with you?”

“Yes he is. He’s already through if you look behind you.”

Even in a hoodie and jeans to beat the Aussie winter Dan’s smile was infectious. It was the same grin as on nearly every Optus ad in the country and Em could tell the exact moment he was recognised.

“Oh, of course. Enjoy being back.”

She rarely used Dan’s celebrity for her own good, if ever, but it was worth it now to get through without extra questioning. Instead they collected the bags and went through quarantine with a smile and handing over the entry cards. The treats that they’d brought back were approved and just over an hour after landing they were in the familiar surrounds of Perth international arrivals. Joe had given them the keys to his car so they didn’t need to rent one. Instead they piled their bags into the boot to go straight to the farm. It wasn’t too cold for Em but Dan hated the thirteen degree weather and put the heat on as soon as they got into the car.

Their original plan had been to get to Michelle’s from the airport to see everyone but they couldn’t face it. Em was desperate for the hugs from her niece and nephew, for Michelle to wrap her in the big sister hugs that felt so good, but she couldn’t keep her emotions together if she saw them. It took all of three minutes to choose takeout to order on the way home to the farm. They sat at the table as Em nibbled the pizza she’d gotten while Dan ate chicken and rice that mostly fit his race diet. Once they were finished they curled into bed, wrapped around each other.

They lay there in the dark, quiet room, not sleeping or speaking. Em took a deep breath and let out a sigh as everything was screaming at her to speak.

“Penny for them?” Dan asked and she blinked, looking up at him and realising that this was the moment she had to say everything out loud for the first time. “There’s been something on your mind since you came back, right? What’s going on Wrinkles? You know you cal always tell me anything.”

“I’m afraid if I tell you then you’ll hate me.” His arms tightened against her while she closed her eyes and felt a kiss pressed to her forehead. He was there. He wouldn’t leave.

“I can’t hate you. I promise, Baby. I could never hate you. I love you. If you want to wait we can until we’re in LA and we have our talk. It’s whatever you w—“

“No. I need to tell you now.” Em pressed a kiss against his chest, holding onto him so tightly that she thought she might break him for a moment. “I…Fuck. When I was in Liverpool I was late. I was really, really late Danny.”

His sharp intake of breath was enough to tell her he’d heard what she said, but he stayed quiet and pushed his lips to her head until she was ready to keep speaking. Em took a couple of quiet breaths before continuing.

“I had a plan. I was gonna take a test to confirm, and when it came up positive I was gonna call you after the race. You had a right to know, y’know? I wouldn’t have kept that from you. I swear, Dan, I never could have done that. But the day I had the courage to buy it and take it I wasn’t late anymore.” Trying to get the words out felt like a clog in her throat. Tears streamed down her face as she forced herself to push everything else out. “Remember when we were here for lockdown and how I was when things got too much? I was like that and I was alone and in pain and I was so sad. I didn’t know I wanted a baby. But I really wanted your baby. And then I had one and I lost our baby and it’s my fault and I’m so sorry, Danny. I’m so, so, so sorry for losing them. I’m sorry.”

Her sobs overtook her but Dan sat up in the bed and pulled her to him. She didn’t know how they ended up like that but she was in his lap. His arms wrapped around her as he rubbed her back, soothing her and trying to calm her tears. She’d lost their baby and the only things going through her head was that it was her fault and if she’d looked after herself and not let herself be so upset and angry then things would have been different. It was her fault. It had to be her fault, it couldn’t be anyone else’s fault because she was the one who couldn’t keep their baby safe. As her tears began to slow and the wracking sobs eased she could hear Dan’s constant murmurs while she calmed down.

“How can I blame you, my Emmy? It’s not your fault and I will never, ever say it is. You’re so fucking brave, Baby. You’re so brave for getting through this and doing it by yourself and I wasn’t there to help you and I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. I’m so, so sorry that you didn’t think you could ask for help. I’d have been there in a minute, fuck everything else. Nothing else matters except you and me, Baby. You are wonderful and strong and brave and it’s going to happen for us. When we’re ready to have a kid we’ll get to. I promise you. You’re going to be ok. We’re going to get through this, you and me, like always.”

She clung to him as he spoke, a weight lifting off her shoulders. The miscarriage had been in the back of her mind ever since it happened, even when she hadn’t realised it was there. She’d been ignoring it since that day, nobody knew. But it was real. They’d lost their baby and she had hurt so badly because they had but they were going to be ok. They were going to make it.

“You back with me?” Dan asked as she stopped sobbing and he wiped at her eyes. His thumb wiped the tears away and all Em could see when she looked up at him was love. He loved her. Even after all this, even after her failure, he still loved her.

“Yeah I am. I’m not ok. I’m really not doing ok Danny.” They were some of the hardest words she’d had to say.

“I love you so fucking much. So much. I always knew you were brave anyway. Anyone who’s seen the crap said in the paddock knows that about you. You are amazing and wonderful and kind. We both know this is the kind of thing so many people have nightmares about. And you, my amazing and strong girlfriend, went through this on your own.” A watery smile went across her face as Dan pecked her lips quickly. “I’m sad we’re never going to meet that baby. I’m so sad we won’t get to see them grow up. But the worst part is that you went through that without anyone to support you. I’d have been there in a heartbeat if I knew. When did it happen?”

“The week of the race in Miami.” The pain was clear on both their faces. “I nearly texted Michael so many times. There was a photo of you—“

“The blonde who wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“Yeah. I saw that photo the day after it happened. Started. I guess. I tried writing and deleting a text a hundred times to ask him if you’d moved on but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to know.”

“Oh Emmy, baby. I was never going to move on from you. Ever.”

She believed him. She believed every word he said, every moment of them together. And that realisation made her curl against him even tighter.

“I’m so tired, Danny. I’m so, so tired.”

“You just sleep. We’ll see the kids in the morning before they go to school and we can pick them up after to bring them to dinner. Sound good?”

“That sounds really good.”

It was probably too early to go to sleep but for the first time in a week Em slept well with Dan’s arms tightly wrapped around her. She woke up to him shifting in his sleep with his lips against her forehead as he slept. She smiled as she woke and kept her head on his chest before Dan’s alarm went off to wake them.

“You up?” He asked as Em twisted her neck to loop up at him again.

“Yeah. You?”

“Just about. I love you.”

“I love you too.” She let out a breath she didn’t even know that she was holding as Dan caught her in a kiss. He grinned against her lips before letting go and watching her for a moment.

“I’ll put coffee on, we can get breakfast out later?”

“Perfect.”

They were able to take their time getting ready. Dan watched as Em got dressed in clothes she’d kept there, putting her jeans on and pulling the belt tight against her. It was an old belt but it was in a new notch. The jeans that she’d owned since the Chinese Grand Prix were loose around her legs and it felt wrong. She was physically and mentally exhausted and worn out and desperately needed to relax and spend time with Dan. He held her hand as they got into the car, Dan the one who drove back to Michelle’s home.

They arrived just in time as Michelle hurried the kids out the door to go to school. Isaac started asking who was in his grandpa’s car but when Em opened the passenger door and stepped out there were two excited yells as they sprinted to her. The force nearly knocked her backwards into the side of the car but Dan held her arm so she could keep on her feet. Bending down for hugs Isabella wrapped her arms around Em’s neck to be lifted for a cuddle and Isaac followed suit.

She shouldn’t have been able to lift them up. Not with how tired she felt, not with how weak she felt. But she made herself stand up with them in her arms. Dan’s hands were supporting her lift and helped her stay upright as she did, grabbing onto them and holding close. Michelle ran towards them in surprise and once the kids were standing on solid ground Em got a hug from her too. She was home and in her sister’s arms and even with how awful her body felt this was good.

Michelle had to go back to work but they both promised to be back for when the kids finished school to take the family out for dinner. But Dan and Em ended up in a hipster breakfast place Dan found online, sitting next to each other in the booth. She sat there with her caramel latte and avocado toast with a poached egg and listened to Dan’s accent get thicker the more he spoke to people. They could both tell he’d been recognised but the nice thing about Perth was that people left him alone there.

“I think this is technically our first date,” Em murmured and watched as he frowned and thought.

“Fuck. You’re right. I always figured our first official date would be something fancy. Bring you somewhere you deserve.”

“We’re sitting in Perth having breakfast together. It’s the first of many.”

“Yeah it is.” He grinned and gripped her hand while they finished what they were eating before leaving the cafe.

Em just followed Dan down the semi familiar streets. So much had changed in the two years since she’d been in Perth, stores closed and new ones taking their place. They held hands in the weak winter sun, still warm on her skin compared to England. Dan walked like a man on a mission until they arrived at their destination.

It was the Apple Store, quiet for the Thursday morning as they arrived. They went to the phones immediately, Em looking at Dan.

“You need a new phone, Baby. One that isn’t going to cut your hand. Which size do you need for everything?”

“Danny I can get this fixed.”

“Please? Fresh start. New phone, new iPad. You need a new iPad for work anyway, it was upgrade time. So we’ll get it all now.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.” He pressed a quick kiss to her lips, both of them smiling as they separated from their first kiss in public. Em was still nervous about it and would have rathered just get her phone fixed but she knew what Dan was like when he got an idea in his head. So she held his hand as he explained exactly what they wanted.

“So it’s two 13 Pro Max phones, each one terabyte. Can we get a gold and a silver one? And an eleven inch iPad Pro with as much memory as you have.” Dan put the other accessories he’d picked up on the table beside the sales assistant, two cases for the iPad - one with a keyboard and one without - and two phone cases. Em’s was purple leather, Dan’s a bright blue silicone. She felt overwhelmed with the amount of money Dan was spending on her but just gripped his hand as he put it through his card. It was for them. Them as a couple, nobody else. It was worth it.

Instead of going back to the farm to come back to town they found a coffee shop to set up their new purchases. It felt a little ridiculous but Em loved it as Dan pulled her in for a selfie as he gave her a kiss on the cheek and set it as his Lock Screen. This was real. It was them.

“We’ll talk to Blake in Baku about when you start coming back to work? You left things easy for him to pick up so if you want some time you’ve got it.”

“What are you talking about, Dan?” She looked at him carefully. She’d quit her job. She didn’t have anything to go back to.

“I assumed you’d want to come back to work? If you don’t that’s fine. If you need time or anything it’s totally fine. But it’s there for you.”

“What about your new assistant?”

“What new assistant?”

It made the tears want to come out again. They hadn’t replaced her. She thought people were just keeping her replacement away but they hadn’t. They still wanted her. They always had wanted her and she’d walked away.

“Em. Emmy, look right at me ok? You and me.” She blinked the tears back to stare at Dan as he squeezed her hand. “We couldn’t even think about replacing you. Never. You’re right here and not going anywhere. And if you want to come back you’ll slot back in. If you don’t want to come back to work that’s also fine. It’s up to you.”

“I didn’t think I could come back.” The words were slow to leave her mouth, each one an effort as her panic started to recede.

“We wanted you back as soon as we could find you, Baby.”

“Thank you.”

“For?”

“For loving me.”

“Always.”

Dinner at Michelle’s was fun. The kids enjoyed seeing their Auntie Emmy and Uncle Daniel when it was least expected, and the idea of a sleepover for two whole nights was exciting. Most of it was casual until Michelle half cornered Em in the kitchen.

“Are you ok?” She asked and Em shook her head.

“I…no. The last two months haven’t been good. But we’re getting through it.” Michelle wrapped her in a hug and it felt so, so good. They were close together for a moment and Michelle kissed her cheek.

“If you need anything we’re right here. No matter what’s happening between you and Dan we’re here. Especially if my idiot brother needs a reality check.”

“Don’t call my boyfriend an idiot. But no, it was both of us. We’re fixing it. It’ll take time.”

“Still, if either of you need anything. We might be the other side of the world but we’re here for you.”

“Thanks. For all of it.”

They left before it got too late, the two of them exhausted from jet lag and a busy day. Dan navigated the turns back to the farm easily, his hand on Em’s thigh. When they got inside she sat on the couch, opening the iPad to set it up.

“I haven’t looked at my emails since I left Melbourne. It’s going to be scary to look at, isn’t it?” As she finished speaking there was a crash, Dan smashing a glass that had been in his hand. “Danny?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine. You haven’t looked at your email since then?”

“No. Why?”

“Fuck. I thought you knew.” He sat beside her and took her hand, Em staring at him as he did. “Two days before you came back I sent you an email. I…I’m retiring at the end of the year.”

“What?” The words were going around her head. Retiring. Dan. It didn’t feel right.

“Racing’s taken everything from me. It nearly took you from me. I can’t do this again. I can’t, Baby girl. I can’t do it. I’m not happy anymore, I hate this team, I hate the way they treat you and act about you. How they don’t listen to me and keep blaming me when it’s the fucking car. So I’m out at the end of the year.”

“Don’t do this for me. If you start doing this because of me you’re going to regret it.” The naked fear that he’d start hating her because of this decision filled Em. She didn’t know what she’d do if he hated her.

“It’s not just you. I don’t—“

“Do you still love racing?”

“Yeah. But not with McLaren. Not in this car. It’s fucking toxic.” She squeezed his hand and kissed him carefully.

“Then we’ll find a team for you. But don’t retire like this. Don’t let them chase you out of the sport you’ve loved. You’re the king of fucking Monaco, Danny. You’re an eight times Grand Prix winner, and you haven’t bottled multiple podiums the way your teammate has. I believe in you. So if you want to retire because it’s time then do it. If it’s like Kimi and you’ve done what you want to do. But not because you think it’s your only option. Don’t do that.”

His expression changed and Dan pulled her close. Kisses pushed against her head and she smiled up at him to kiss him properly.

“Do you really mean that? Mind another couple of years of travelling around the world?”

“I mean every word. This is your time, Danny. And in a couple of years we’ll move back and it’s my time. Deal?”

“Deal.”

He didn’t respond, instead lifting Em up and carrying her to the bedroom carefully. Her legs wrapped around his waist while he did, arms holding onto his neck for dear life. But she knew Dan wouldn’t drop her. She trusted him not to.

When they made it to the bedroom it was fumbling fingers, both trying to get the other naked and hold on at the same time. She gasped as Dan undid the clasp on her bra, his hands cupping her boobs for the first time in too long. He lavished kisses against them until he was interrupted by Em taking his shirt off, pulling her too him as he sat on the edge of the bed.

She moaned as Dan’s fingers slid through her folds, feeling where she was wet and slowly playing with her to make sure she was fully ready for sex. He held onto her cheek with the other hand. They each pushed soft kisses to their faces while they got ready, but finally Em positioned herself and slid onto Dan. The stretch as he entered her was perfect, everything she didn’t know she’d missed.

Every time Em tried to get a rhythm going Dan held her at her hip, slowly thrusting. It was shallow and didn’t feel like him, didn’t feel the way they always had sex. It just felt wrong and that terrified her. From the first time they’d slept together they’d always managed to make sex work. And now it felt wrong and if this was a sign of things to come then they wouldn’t be able to save themselves. She couldn’t lose him. Not like this. Not after everything they were fighting for.

“You can go like normal.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” It was like a punch in the gut but Em held firm and looked at him. Her hand caught his chin and made him look into her eyes.

“I need my Danny back. I need the Danny who doesn’t treat me like I’m about to break back, the one who knows exactly what we need. We know each other so well, we know what we have. If we’re scared of each other this isn’t going to work for us. Baby, please. I love you and I believe in you.”

Em didn’t know what possessed her to do it but she took Dan’s hand from her cheek and carefully pressed kisses to each digit. The final one went to the centre of his palm. Watching Dan’s face carefully she pulled his hand from her lips and pushed it to the centre of her neck.

It had been their thing for so long she’d forgotten how it started. Her riding Dan, his hand on her throat controlling how she moved. She trusted him with all of it, with her. It was the ultimate way of showing how she felt.

“I love you and I trust you. Let me feel you, Baby.”

“I love you so fucking much.”

After the first proper thrust Em didn’t remember much else from the sex they had. She knew she came more than once because Dan would never let her be otherwise, and she knew his back was covered in scratch marks from her nails. Her boobs had love bites marked into them to mark her as Dan’s. The small spots where he gripped her hips to bounce her up and down would darken to fingertip bruises as well. There was a hickey on Dan’s collarbone that she knew Michael would kill her for but she didn’t care. It would fade.

But it felt right. It felt good. It was tiring and she was sore but Dan was all around her and it was everything. He brought her into the bathroom and ran the bath, helping her in and settle beside him. He even remembered a hair tie so her hair didn’t get wet.

“We’re going to make it.” Em said it determinedly, her voice quiet in the room. Dan pulled her even closer as she did.

“We’re gonna make it, Emmy. You and me, like we promised.”

“Yeah. We are.”

Dan helped her out of the bath and they got ready for bed, curling up with Em lying over him. A day ago she had the weight of the world on her shoulders, but now it felt like a new life for them.

“Ready for a weekend of chaos? I thought we could do the Zoo with the kids on Saturday, and Sunday bring them to the cinema and send them home hyper on sugar. Plus they want to spend time with you.”

“Yeah, that sounds good. We’re lucky to have them.” She could feel exhaustion hitting and kissed Dan’s chest once. “Gonna go sleep now. Love you.”

“Love you too, Emmy. Sleep well.”

For the first time in too many months, Em fell into a dreamless sleep with her boyfriend’s arms tight around her.

Taglist: @dr3lover @sabrinaselina55 @majx00 @tall-tanned-tattoo @lovingdennishauger @lauehr @msolbesg @f1medlife @idkwtfimdoing2 @leclercsbae @hiphopdancer101universe @mehrmonga @lewispool @saintandrea-droidsmuggler @coldheartedmar @sugarbabygirlofdaddy @nonsensical-nonce @a-distantdreamer @tita010 @leslizzle @javden @mloyer @magical-imagination-kgp @danarysstormborn @kakorrhaphiphobia @g-l-o-b-e-w-h-o-r-e @elizanav @neiich @luckyladycreator2 @scotlynaurora

#call it what you want fic #daniel ricciardo imagine #formula 1 imagine #formula one imagine #daniel ricciardo oneshot #f1 oneshot #formula 1 oneshot #f1 imagine #formula one fanfic #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x ofc #ciwyw writing

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cilil · 3 months ago

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Gentle June

AN: Last one @tolkienpinupcalendar. Thank you for all these fun events <3 this one's for the Firebird gang!

❀ Prompt: Reward, creampie & finger sucking | Gothmog x Eönwë ❀ Synopsis: Eönwë is in heat. Gothmog is more than happy to help. ❀ Warnings: Birdy boy in heat, bodily fluids, monsterfucking (Balrog), anal sex ❀ Short oneshot (~700 words)

"Please–!"

Eönwë was sitting, no, grinding on Gothmog's lap with such vigorous determination and helpless lust that the Lord of Balrogs couldn't help being amused, keeping a large hand on the small of his back to steady his lover. The poor thing was leaking on both ends, he could both smell and feel it as droplets of seed and slick alike dripped onto his skin and sizzled there, though it did little to stop the frenzied rutting.

Manwë's precious herald was in heat and, out of all people the pretty bird could have surely had, he was begging a him, a Balrog, for sex. Gothmog smirked to himself. How could he ever say no to such an earnest request?

"Bird," he said, attempting to sound stern, "are you sure you're prepared? I can–"

"Yes." Eönwë sounded almost petulant. Looking up through his eyelashes, he pouted slightly and lifted his hips. "Can't you feel it? I am... filthy. And wet. And..."

Instead of answering, Gothmog let his hand glide down his backside, spread his cheeks with two fingers and pushed a third inside. Indeed, the poor Maia was positively leaking and clenched around the invading digit immediately, hips rocking back and forth for additional friction. Briefly, he glanced down at his belly where more treacherous evidence of his lust glistened on his skin.

"Very well," Gothmog said and withdrew his finger, earning himself a needy whine in the process. "That should be enough."

Without further pretext or warning, he seized Eönwë's hips with both hands, positioned him above his eagerly rising cock and pushed him down on it. The sounds that followed were glorious — a nigh animalistic screech, a helpless whimper, a desperate moan. His beloved was tight but pliable, making him feel as though his fána was sucking him in. Oh, how he loved that tight hole, barely able to fit a Balrog's length, yet taking him with the bravery of a Maiarin warrior.

Eönwë let his mouth fall open, and Gothmog was pleased to see him nearly drooling from penetration alone.

"Nobody ever fucks you properly in this wretched land of light and purity, hm?" he growled, accentuating his accusation by rolling his hips forward to reach deeper.

Whimpering, Eönwë shook his head. Gothmog rewarded him by wiping his chin and pushing a finger in his mouth. Immediately, the smaller Maia began sucking on it.

Good. Then he won't scream as much and his lord and lady won't notice.

Still holding on to his hips with his other hand, Gothmog began moving. As perplexed as he was to see that nobody had helped themselves to such a pretty and needy Maia in heat before him, he was more than happy to be the one fucking it out of him. Judging by the state Eönwë was in, it would take a while, but thankfully strength and stamina were what a Balrog's fána was made for.

Gothmog focused on the feeling of thrusting in and out of that tight, wet passage as fast as he could, bouncing the herald on his lap like a ragdoll. His claws dug into unmarred skin with such ferocious lust that he drew blood, yet Eönwë neither fought against him nor complained; it wouldn't be the first time he enjoyed a bit of pain.

His orgasm took Gothmog by surprise, and he followed suit before he could restrain himself, taken off-guard by the intensity of it. Muscles twitching, tightening around him, pushing him over the edge alongside his lover, and seed filled the smaller Maia to the brim, leaking out of him even as he delayed pulling out.

"More?" Gothmog asked. He could already sense that his beloved was not yet satisfied.

"More." Eönwë stopped sucking on his finger to speak, then hastily added, "Please."

Fucked him so good he almost forgot his silly manners.

Gothmog withdrew his finger to caress his cheek instead and kissed his lips. "Greedy bird."

His deep voice vibrated with affection. It was going to be a long night, and he was going to enjoy every second of it.

Thanks for reading! ♡

taglist: @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @blauerregen @bluezenzennie @edensrose @elanna-elrondiel

@eunoiaastralwings @i-did-not-mean-to @just-little-human @melkors-big-tits @singleteapot

@urwendii @wandererindreams

#tpcgentlejune #eonwe #eönwë #gothmog #balrog #gothmog x eonwe #firebird #silm smut #silm fanfic #silmarillion fanfiction #silmarillion #cílil writes #my writing #minors dni

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thewritingbeforesunrise · 2 years ago

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BALLERINA - Chapter Six.

A Jake Kiszka AU

Physiotherapist!Jake x Original Female Character

Previous Chapter.

A/N: You have been waiting for this one. Here it is, finally. 🔥🔥

In the text, you will find a little link with an ambience sound that I thought was fitting for this chapter. I hope you like it.

Please, let me know what you think about this!

If you are interested, you can join my taglist here.

Word count: 4.9K

Warnings for this chapter: 18+ MINORS ABSOLUTELY DNI - kissing, oral (f!receiving), talking of physical rehabilitation and medical stuff (I am not an expert, I apologise for any inaccuracies), poor mental health, soft!Jake.

_________________________________

It was mid March when Iris was dismissed from the hospital.

Now it was a hot afternoon in the beginning of June and she was walking to therehabilitation studio.

She had made huge progress with Jake's help and now she could walk and even run a little on her own, without any help.

The only signs of the injury on her leg were the two big pale scars on it. She still had to get used to them, but she were recovering well.

Jake was helping her in the first steps towards maybe being able to dance again, and she was very grateful for it.

If on the physical side she had come a very long way, on the emotional side she was a wreck, and it was entirely because of him.

Every time she saw him, which meant three times a week now, he was more beautiful than the day prior. The feelings that his hands elicited were stronger every day to the point that she didn't know how much she would be able to resist the urge to push him right against the wall and ravage him.

He affected her to the point that every time she went home after a rehabilitation session, she had to go straight to the shower, discarding her soaked and ruined panties in the laundry and touch herself until she came undone thinking about him.

His name threatened to spill from her lips every time.

Today the weather was awful.

Big black clouds were approaching, causing the temperature to be even more suffocating. The five minute walk to his studio felt like thirty minutes under the scorching hot sun and once Iris arrived there she was glad the air conditioning wasn't set too high.

Unlike the other times the waiting room was packed.

The secretary told Iris that there would be some delay in the appointments because the doctor had an emergency at the hospital and he had to leave his studio for three hours.

She didn't mind waiting to see him, she always had a book with her so she took a seat near the balcony and started reading.

Every now and then she could hear the rumble of thunder approaching and from the window she could see the grey clouds. They were swirling fast and becoming even darker, the lightning spreading on and inside of them like cracks in porcelain.

The hours passed and now she was the only one left in the studio.

It was almost 7 pm.

He must be exhausted, she thought.

Once she saw the last person that was inside with him leave, she put away her book and waited for the secretary to call her.

After a while, she told Iris to go inside and she pushed the door open.

There he was.

She could see how tired he was, but she couldn't help but find him even more beautiful. His hair was again tied in a low ponytail and he was wearing a simple white tshirt and grey joggers.

She took off her shoes and approached him. Even though he was tired, he was gleaming when he smiled at her, his perfect teeth showing and she couldn't help but blush, again.

He was used to it by now, she told herself.

"Hi, Iris I am so sorry to have kept you waiting for so long, but I had an emergency in the hospital this morning and I had to help in an emergency surgery." He told her with a sigh.

He looked really exhausted.

"It's ok, don't worry, I know you are very busy." She quickly answered.

"Not many of my patients seem to remember it. I don't want to argue with them but there was a man this morning, right after I came back from surgery, that I really wanted to punch in the face because he expected me to see him without appointment. I just had time for a quick shower and then I headed here. I didn't even have time to eat." He said rapidly.

Then he buried his face in his hands saying "Oh my God, sorry. I didn't mean to vent about my problems with you. I am so sorry," he told her sheepishly.

Iris honestly didn't mind.

"You can do that, we are friends aren't we? So friends help each other." She retorted, smiling at him.

He was always so sweet and she wanted to help him.

At that moment, they were interrupted by a loud booming thunder that made the windows shake.

"And to make matters worse, it looks like the end of the world is coming." He said looking out of the window.

There was a knock on the door and the secretary entered.

"Dr Kiszka, I am sorry to interrupt your appointment but I wanted to ask you if I can try to head home before the storm begins," the woman said.

"Yes, of course Alice, sorry to have kept you here after the end of your shift. I'll close the studio, see you on Monday. Have a nice weekend." He said and waved her goodbye.

While he talked to her, Iris had time to take out of her bag something she had brought for him.

Once his attention was back on her, she spoke sheepishly

"You said you didn't have time to eat and I brought something that could help you," Iris said, embarrassed, "you can't work for so long on an empty stomach." She gave him a bag of the same chocolate bars he chose that day back in the hospital.

She remembered that taste all too well.

"This is absolutely my favourite, you remembered," he said surprised.

As if I could forget, you tasted exactly like this when you kissed me that night, she thought.

Iris felt so stupid because she couldn't stop herself from buying those chocolate bars, on the exact same day after she had come home from the hospital, but she couldn't bring herself to eat them. That memory was too painful.

So she gave them to her mother, instead.

But today she wanted to bring him something, so she bought them again and hoped they didn't melt during her walk to the studio.

"Ok I am going to eat this only if you'll have one yourself, Iris," he told her and she nodded.

She grabbed one from the bag he had just opened and unwrapped it with him. She watched him as he chewed slowly. Even the flexing of his jawline was sexy for her.

She almost choked when he noticed a bit of melted chocolate on his pointer finger and brought it to his mouth, sucking on it lightly to clean it. She had to avert her eyes from his mouth forcefully.

To distract herself, she took a bite of her chocolate, but it clouded her senses.

It reminded her of the softness of his lips on hers. She could recall their taste by heart.

Another thunder distracted her from her feelings.

The storm was approaching slowly but relentlessly.

"Thank you for this Iris. I am already feeling better now, this was exactly what I needed on this awful day." She smiled at him and told him "You are welcome Jake."

"Let's start with rehabilitation." He said, clapping his hands once.

They were working on balance exercises because the muscles of her thigh were out of training and hurt a little the more she exerted it.

Jake always told her to take things slowly, but she was growing impatient to go back to dancing and she wasn't listening to him.

After another try of keeping the position he had asked her, for more than ten seconds, a cramp stopped her efforts and she almost collapsed to the floor clutching her right thigh.

He was faster and caught her by her waist before she could crumble on the floor and helped her sit down on the couch he used to visit patients on.

Thunders were growing louder by now and she could see flashes of lightning bounce rapidly around the room.

The sky was so dark that Jake had to turn on the lights to see well. Big drops of rain were starting to fall, hitting the windows loudly.

The cramp wasn't stopping and Iris was almost on the verge of tears clutching her leg with her hands.

He guided her to lie down on the couch and started to massage the muscle of her thigh with his warm hands.

He was touching her carefully, he didn't want to hurt her more than she was already.

He kept rubbing slow circles on her skin, with different levels of pressure.

Iris was wearing shorts because of the hot temperatures so his hands were stroking her bare skin.

She couldn't deny that the touch of his hands was affecting her and she couldn't stop a little whimper from leaving her mouth when his fingertips dug deeper into her skin.

He mistook it for pain and quickly apologized.

At that moment, there was a very loud and cracking sound closeby and the light went out, abruptly.

Black out.

A lightning must have hit somewhere near the studio.

"Fantastic, this was just what we needed," she heard him mutter in an ironic tone.

The two of them were surrounded by darkness and the only source of feeble light was the very dark sky and the occasional white flash of lightning.

Her eyes started to adjust to it, quickly.

When the lightning hit, Iris had jolted up so now she was sitting on the couch and Jake was right in front of her, hands still on her thigh.

"Are you ok?" He asked kindly

"Yes," she answered, even though it was a damn big lie.

Iris wasn't OK, he was so close that she could feel his breathing fan on her cheeks and the problem was that she needed him closer.

He was staring at her now, his eyes kept flickering from her eyes to her mouth for an indefinite amount of time.

A loud thunder seemed to spur him on.

"Fuck it, I can't take this anymore," he whispered, then grabbed her face with both of his hands and unexpectedly kissed her on her lips.

Iris was so shocked that she didn't respond to the kiss right away, but, when he tried to pull away, she put a hand behind his neck, stopping him from parting from her lips.

He tasted just like the other time and she was already intoxicated.

Her other hand went into his hair, untying it delicately and stroking it, her nails slowly sinking into his scalp.

She felt him huff a little breathy sigh from his onto her cheek and she tried to bring him even closer so that their proximity was almost painful.

The kiss deepened every second more.

What started soft and simple turned heated, hot and labored.

It was a mess of fighting tongues, bumping noses, clattering teeth and biting of lips.

After a while, Iris pulled away to catch her breath.

His forehead was pressed to hers, his breathing fast and his eyes closed.

"You can't even imagine for how long I wanted to do this. You have no idea. Since that night in the hospital, I haven't been able to think about anything else." He bent his head to whisper into her ear.

She whimpered at his words, biting her lips painfully.

His eyes were boring holes into hers and she felt the urge to confess to him all of her sins.

His thumb pressed on her bottom lip, untucking it from her teeth and stayed there until she spoke.

"I have been doing the same from the moment you entered my hospital room. I can't deny it anymore. You don't know how difficult it was to have your hands on me for this long and try to restrain myself." she confessed, breathless.

He stopped her ramblings with another searing kiss but, this time, his hands wandered to her waist squeezing her flesh.

With trembling fingers, she touched his cheekbones, his nose, his neck and dragged down his lean chest only to land on his hips.

Just as her hands gripped his hips, his hands slid down her thighs making goosebumps raise on her skin.

"Oh darling, you don't even know. Right after that night, every time I came to visit you, I was afraid of not being able to control myself. I wanted to take you right there against the wall. It felt so wrong because you looked so innocent but I couldn't help myself. You got me so fucking hard that I was afraid you could notice." He whispered right on her lips.

She couldn't believe his words.

Her already wet panties were now soaked thanks to them. She had to bite her lips again so as not to moan.

Her hands lifted his tshirt lightly and came in contact with the soft and hot bare skin of his back, exploring it tentatively. With shaking fingers she traced his spine, his shoulder blades and then went back to his plush hips.

His lips trailed down her neck and when he started to suck on her pulse point, occasionally biting it then soothing it with his warm tongue, she dug her nails in his strong hips, making him groan into her neck.

His muscles twitched under her touch and before he kissed her again, another lightning illuminated his fierce features.

His mouth was agape, his chest heaving and his eyes burning.

It was almost enough to make Iris come.

His hands on her thighs trailed upwards again and he gave a good squeeze of her ass that had her biting his bottom lip mid kiss and then went under her tshirt.

"Can I take this off?" He broke the kiss and asked her.

"Please, yes," she answered out of breath and with a little smirk he did.

When, thanks to another lightning, he saw that underneath she was wearing a simple powder blue cotton bra he groaned and dropped his head to her shoulder.

"This fucking color again, you can't even imagine what this does to me." He said with a strained voice

In reality, she could.

She could feel him very well since he was pressed very close to her.

His mouth started a trail of open mouthed kisses down her shoulder and just above her breasts.

Her hands tugging lightly at his hair had him whimpering lightly.

She gripped the fabric of his tshirt and between labored breaths asked him the same question he had for her.

"Can I take this off?" She asked.

Before she could finish the sentence he had already tugged it past his head and discarded it on the floor.

She took a minute to admire him.

He was stunning.

His chest was toned but not too much, his skin was lightly tanned and so soft.

He was perfect.

The moment her lips made contact with his collarbone, the loudest thunder so far rattled the windows making her jump lightly.

She bit at his clavicle and felt his hands in her hair bringing her closer to him.

He leant his head backwards giving her access to his neck.

Iris wanted to bite him everywhere. She wanted to mark every inch of his skin.

His fingers grazed the band of her shorts and she tugged them off from her body, leaving her in just her bra and mismatching pastel green panties in front of him.

He had to close his eyes the moment he saw her like that.

"I think you are trying to kill me. Only you can make a simple pair of cotton panties look so sexy." His lips were once again at her ear.

He dragged his pointer finger on the elastic band and she couldn't help but bite her lips and dig her nails in her palms to control herself and not take his hand and push it forcefully between her legs.

Iris kissed him again and her hands started to wander on his lean chest. She grazed her fingertips on the barely there trail of hair on his soft tummy and she heard him take a sharp intake of breath when her fingertips started toying with the string of his sweatpants.

She untied it and then looked him in the eyes.

Another thunder rattled the windows.

He looked otherwordly with his hair cascading over his shoulders, golden eyes and lips slightly agape.

She wanted him to absolutely unravel her. And she was ready to beg him for it.

His hands grabbed hers and put them on his hips, signaling to her that she could take off his joggers.

Iris didn't need to be told twice and she did it, slowly.

When she accidentally brushed the elastic of his joggers on his clothed crotch, she felt him gasp and his grip on her hips tightened.

She hoped he left bruises there.

She quickly apologised, letting go of the fabric that pooled at his ankles.

Now he was standing in front of her in just his black boxers, that were growing too tight for him every passing second.

He discarded his joggers quickly and then grabbed her jaw making her stare land forcefully in his eyes.

Iris didn't expect it.

It was such a dominant gesture that she was sure wetness was starting to leak from her panties, ruining the couch underneath.

"You don't remember, do you?" He whispered practically on her lips.

"I told you that I didn't want to hear those words," he growled.

She felt bold and held eye contact with him, defying him.

"Or else? What are you going to do about it?" Iris whispered back in a sultry tone.

His grip tightened, his thumb started stroking her bottom lip and he chuckled.

"I really didn't think you could be a little devil like this. What a surprise. Fuck, you are making me even harder." He whispered and bit her neck sharply.

In that moment, she grabbed his wrist and pushed his thumb, that was resting on her bottom lip, right inside the warmth of her mouth.

A lightning illuminated her actions and his features.

He seemed on the verge of bending her over his desk and fuck her until she couldn't remember her name.

She bit down on the pad of his thumb and he growled.

"You should stop this right now if you don't want me to turn you around and absolutely rail you on this very couch until we have to start with rehabilitation all over again." He threatened, but she couldn't shut her mouth so she answered him, brushing her lips on his neck and biting his lobe.

"What if that's exactly what I want?" She answered him with a mischievous edge in her voice.

"Fuck, Iris, where have you been all this time?" He groaned.

His actions were sweet again.

He grabbed her face tenderly and kissed her slowly.

The rain outside was pouring like a flood, making them feel completely isolated in that room.

"I want you to answer me truthfully, do you really want this?" He watched her intensely in the eyes.

She almost sobbed at his words. She had been dreaming about this moment since the day she met him and she didn't think she could survive a second more without him.

"I really want this Jake. I have been dreaming about it for so long. I lost count of how many times I had to touch myself thinking about you and your hands on me, trying to ease the tension I was experiencing. It was just too much." She added embarrassed.

"You don't know what you do to me" he said chuckling, leaning his forehead against hers.

"That night after we kissed, I couldn't even get home. I had to pull over the driveway half way through the journey home. You got me so hard in that hospital room that I had to sit in my car stroking my cock like a pervert because I couldn't focus on my driving. The pain was unbearable and I had to find some release. It was too much. I didn't even make it to my house because of you." He confessed, his face heating.

The image that was playing in her mind of him stroking his hard cock in his car, fogged windows and everything, would be burned forever in her brain.

"Can I?" He asked her without breath, fingers grazing on the clasp of her bra.

"Yes, please" she told him and he moved forward between her parted legs, grinding his still clothed crotch onto hers and making her gasp at the sensation, while biting her shoulder.

The bra abandoned Iris in a second, exposing her already hardened nipples to him.

He paid diligent attention to them, bringing them into his mouth and making her squirm under his touch.

God it was the best torture ever.

Her hands went into his hair and stayed there, tugging it and making him groan onto her skin.

His hips kept grinding onto hers until it was too much for the both of them.

He stopped and spoke.

"I can't take this any longer I just need to feel you." He said into the skin of her neck.

"I need you. Please, Jake. Let me have you" she begged him, sounding on the verge of tears.

She kissed him again and bit his bottom lip lightly, making him groan.

The reality of what was going to happen downed onto her and she tensed.

He noticed.

He grabbed her shoulders gently and asked her about it.

"Hey there, Iris. What's wrong?"

When she couldn't meet his gaze, he lifted her chin softly, to look into her eyes.

"It's just…" she trailed off and blushed.

"I- I have…" she tried to formulate a sentence but her words kept tangling into her brain.

She started stuttering a little because she didn't know how to tell him.

"Calm down, no need to be nervous around me" he said stroking her cheek with a sweet smile.

Iris took a deep breath and spoke.

"It's been a lot since I last was with anyone like this," she gestured with her trembling hands between the two of them, her eyes not meeting his.

"And I always had terrible experiences, for that matter. All I ever felt was pain." She confessed, hiding her face behind her hands, with a groan.

Just the thought of it brought back bad memories and a little lonely tear started its journey down her cheek.

He gently lifted her face to look into her eyes.

He was studying her face with a pained expression.

He brushed away that lonely tear and kissed her.

He was so sweet he almost didn't feel real.

He broke away from her and spoke, looking her in the eyes.

"I am really sorry to hear this, Iris. I firmly believe that some people should never be allowed near a woman's body." He said, stroking her cheek.

"If you still want this I can promise you that I am going to be gentle, but please don't feel like you have to do it, ok? I don't want to push you and make you do something you don't want," He told her, sweetly, cradling her face with his warm hands.

Iris kissed him again.

"I really want this, Jake. Make me forget about those awful experiences, please," she whispered onto his lips.

He smirked at her words

"It'll be a real pleasure, darling." He purred into her ear, making goosebumps raise on her skin.

The storm was raging outside, the wind was howling and the rain was hitting the windows in full force.

With that sentence, he started kissing her breasts again, lightly nibbling at her skin and eliciting soft mewls from her.

Then, his lips trailed lower, making the air catch in her throat.

He knelt in front of her, grabbed the ankle of her non-injured leg and placed her foot on the side of the couch exposing her to him.

He growled a low "Fuck, Iris" seeing how wet she was. She knew it showed through her panties, she could feel it, too.

He stroked his thumb on the wet fabric and bit the underside of her thigh at the same time.

It was too much teasing for her.

She was about to explode.

In a second, he was again eye level with her still stroking her lightly through her panties.

"What do you need? Show me." He almost moaned in her mouth.

Iris grabbed his wrist and unceremoniously pushed his hand inside her panties.

She didn't care if she looked desperate.

They gasped at the same time and she had to lean her forehead onto his shoulder not to fall from the couch.

"Oh God, Jake." she moaned breathlessly.

His fingers dragged her panties down her legs, slowly discarding them on the floor and he started touching her delicately.

His hot fingers stroked lightly on her slit and she were panting already.

"So wet for me." He whispered and she whimpered.

His thumb rubbed on her clit and she kissed him again to stop her moans. He continued his torture by biting and sucking on her breasts, making her hands fly to his hair, gripping him hard to keep him close to her.

His fingers kept a steady pace between her legs and she mentally thanked the storm for muffling the unholy drenched sounds of his fingers.

Suddenly, he stopped.

She whined at the loss of contact but he silenced her quickly with his mouth on hers.

"Have you ever tasted yourself?" He whispered into her ear and her jaw almost dropped to the floor.

She told him a sheepish no and he smirked.

"Not even when you are all alone touching yourself?" He asked further.

She shook her head no, embarrassed.

"Do you want to?" He asked smugly.

This time she simply nodded, unable to utter a single sound.

His hand came in contact with her core once again and he collected some of her arousal then brought his fingers to her lips and spread it across them like it was a lip gloss.

"Open up for me," he commanded and she obliged.

He pushed his fingers in her mouth delicately and she started sucking on them before he even told her to do it.

Iris moaned his name around them and saw something snap in him, the muscle of his jaw clenching.

He pulled them out and kissed her breathlessly, tasting her in the process and humming.

He didn't waste time, he dropped to his knees right in front of her drenched pussy.

"Are you ok with this, Iris?" He asked in a strained tone.

It was taking all he had to restrain himself from delving right in.

"Please, Jake." She told him through clenched teeth.

He winked at her from down there, wetting his lips slowly for her to see. Then he grabbed her ass, dragging her to the edge of the couch to have better access. He placed her left foot on his shoulder, brought both of his hands to her, spreading her lower lips open with his thumbs and delivered a broad slow lick of his hot tongue flat on her.

She screamed, pushing her head backwards at the same time of a booming thunder and immediately clamped her left hand on her mouth.

The right one was holding her up from behind her for dear life.

He stopped and grabbed her left arm, making her drop the hand from her mouth.

Holding a devilish eye contact, he put her hand on his head and she immediately started stroking his soft hair.

"Please, let me hear you, I don't want you to hold back. Your hand needs to stay here, ok? You can pull my hair as much as you want but, please, don't put this hand on your mouth." He begged her and she shivered.

She nodded, unable to speak and he dived back in, this time pointing his tongue and attacking her clit with rapid strokes.

When he sucked on it, Iris was done.

She pushed her hand to the back of his neck keeping him there and, between labored breaths, she whispered his name over and over again, while he kept licking at her skin through it. Her body bent forward and he steadied her with hands on her hips.

When she started squirming away from his mouth, he moved his mouth from her center and sucked a mark on the skin of her inner thigh, letting her catch her breath.

After a while, she was still panting and her legs were still shaking, but she looked down and she was ready to start it all over again.

He looked absolutely indecent with disheveled hair sticking onto his forehead, his nose, mouth and chin shining because of her with every bolt of lightning and a proud smirk on his plush lips.

Iris knew what was coming even before he started speaking.

"Ready for round two?" He asked, licking his lips, voice hoarse and eyes burning.

This man is going to kill me.

Before she could gather the courage to answer, he delivered a sharp suck on her clit, making her hiss.

She whimpered a light "yes" and his mouth was on her, again.

Both of her hands were behind her, steading her, granting him full control.

Her eyes were trained on him and she saw his hand sneak into his boxers, making him hiss sharply against her.

She noticed how his arm started a low steady rhythm on himself.

He was touching himself, while eating her out.

It was undeniably sexy and so dirty.

And then, abruptly, everything stopped.

_______________________________________

Next chapter

Taglist:

@why-ami-on-here @hellowgoodbye @sammyslappers @spark-my-nature @jessicafg03 @highladyofasgard @sparrowofthedawnsworld @doodle417

#greta van fleet #greta van fic #greta van smut #gvf fic #fanfic #jake gvf #jake kiszka #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka x reader

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moonbreezes · 8 months ago

Note

"-sickly Georgie (literally trauma bonding through sickness and period accurate “medicine”) he was ill every other month why not use it '

Sounds intresting and I haven't heard that before. What did you mean by that????

I do not know how to present this in a coherent way so allow me to create a vague list of some of the more notable events that revolved around George’s health. And I will restrict myself to only the time that he was James’s favourite.

I will not comment on George’s early years, because I cannot find any source (I might edit this later when I find anything of substance) that comments on his health. (Nonetheless I vaguely remember reading something about his poor health when he was a child.) However, there are records about him being sick whilst being already a favourite. It is especially interesting as King James often personally visited George or sent him gifts (fruits) so that he could recover quickly. There are not only third party records about George’s health and his sickness form outside visitors, but there are also letters from James directly addressed to Buckingham that mention his health.

The first incident oh his health collapsing is around late 1616, when it was speculated that he fell from grace and was not going to stick as a favourite, because of his absence. This is also around the time when he received the nickname Steenie, after St. Stephen who was dubbed as person with an angelic face. At that time, it became imminent that he was prone to being sick during moments of great tension. It might have been a prolonged sickness as it was noted around spring he was not feeling well, perhaps due to the death of one of his promoters – Sir John Graham. Some also speculated whether his poor health and absence was connected to John’s ‘fits of insanity’ (elder brother).[1]

Another incident happens three years later around June 1619. In April, James fell ill, and many feared he might die due to the severity of it. George, fearing his bad prospects after the possible death of the king was immensely relieved once James started to recover. Nonetheless the constant fear and taking care of the king resulted in him felling ill. After quick recovery he overexerted himself once again and a series of fainting spells took place, this forced him to rest much longer. After that James gave him, a stern talking to as he worried about George.[2]

Then, at the very end of Charles’s and his stay in Spain (around the end of August 1622) he, once again, fell ill which resulted in a delay of their return to England. There were rumours that he contracted syphilis while staying in Spain, which was supposed to explain a collapse in health shortly after he returned.[3]

(late April 1624 – June 2024) Then, there was the carriage incident. After the failed Spanish Match, there was a lot going on between not only between James and George but in general (Spanish weaving in accusations against George while talking with James, then there was the Parliament, James not liking what was going on and the influence George was exercising over Charles and the whole popularity thing. There was a lot). Their relationship turned colder.

He was about to leave for Windsor, for the Garter ceremonies on St George's Day, but could not bear to take Buckingham in his coach with him. The Duke, sensing that something was wrong, pressed James to say what was the matter. Thereupon the King, bursting into tears, declared that he was the unhappiest man alive, to be treated with such ingratitude by those who were dearest to him, and told Buckingham of the charges made against him. The Duke, who could not restrain his own tears, protested his innocence and called for a full investigation to discover who had given the ambassadors this false information. But James drove off to Windsor, taking only the Prince with him, and the disconsolate Buckingham was left to return to Wallingford House where he retired to bed and refused to see anybody.[4]

After that George fell ill once again. Charles in letters to Buckingham assured him, that he would mediate with James so that he would forgive the duke and the affection would return once more. Still weak in body and mind, after some time George was allowed to travel with the king in his coach. Nonetheless, his frail health was compromised once more, and illness returned. This time however, it was not entirely certain that he would survive. (James’s head physician tended to him).

Chamberlain reports on 13 May 1624: "The Duke of Buckingham hath ben sicke above this sevenight of a feaver, the jaundisse, and I know not what els, so that besides other phisicke he hath ben thrise let bloud at least, yet the world thincks he is more sicke in mind then body and that he declines apace" (Letters, 2: 558) [5]

After a difficult night, the King, fearing for his favourite’s life rushed to his side and was by his bedside for some hours. As Buckingham steadily recovered James was said to send him gifts (fruits such as cherries, melons, or grapes) daily, for which George thanked him in letters.[6] Then it is also said that at one time, he knelt at his bedside and begged the God to transfer the illness onto him so that the favourite would recover.

Dear Dad and Gossip, Though you commanded me to write no answer, yet, since I should not a slept well this night except I had done it, I hope you will excuse my disobeying of you at this time. I have been the longer a-doing of it because I might send you the certainer news of my health, which at this time is so good, what with your sweet cordial and my seasonable drawing of blood, that I hope tomorrow to wait of you a perfect man. I hope you will not be put to much pains to read this hand, since you have received so many love letters from her who joins with me in humble thanks for your kindness and care of us both. So, craving your blessing, we end Your Majesty's most humble slaves, Kate. Steenie.[7]

And once again, the affections between James and George returned to their, let’s call it, default state. Nonetheless, despite a quick recovery, during his next appearance Buckingham was supposed to be carried on a chair, as he was unable to walk or even hold a pen; his body was simply too weak.[8]

Following that, there were other minor instances when George’s health gave out.

Dear Dad and Gossip, I have not yet been able to acquaint the Ambassador with what you have found in your book, because I received your letter when I was come from him; but before I shall be able to see you, I shall have done it; for what with the rainy weather, my late coming last night, and this day's long treating with him in the garden, I have such a swelling in my throat, and such a noise in my head, that I can neither swallow nor hear well; wherefore I shall be forced for my health, if your service will permit me, to take a little physic. The physicians tells me this is the seasonablest time […].[9]

Sweet heart, Blessing, blessing, blessing […]. Remember now to take the air discreetly and peece and peece. And, for God's sake and mine, keep thyself very warm, especially thy head and thy shoulders. Put thy park of Bewlie to an end, and love me still and still. And so God bless thee, and my sweet daughter, and god-daughter, to the comfort of thy dear dad. JAMES R[10]

In January 1625, whilst dealing with various (war-related) affairs he has once more fell ill, and even the King urged him to leave London and rest in the countryside. Nonetheless this time around, he had to suffer through what was ailing him and carry on working. And lastly the death of king James also affected George, as the grief rendered him so weak in his body that he had to be, once again, carried in a chair.[11]

So there it is. I am absolutely sorry about the amount of my yaaping about George and his health, even if is truncated. I have tried to stay coherent and do not stray from the timeline, so I hope that this little ‘compilation’ is alright. Tldr; George had health of a Victorian street urchin battling with consumption and contemporary medicine.

Bibliography

Bergeron, David M. 2002. King James and Letters of Homoerotic Desire. University Of Iowa Press.

Lockyer, Roger. 2014. Buckingham: The Life and Political Career of George Villiers, First Duke of Buckingham. Routledge.

[1] Lockyer, Roger. 2014. Buckingham: The Life and Political Career of George Villiers, First Duke of Buckingham. Routledge, 28.

[2] Lockyer. Buckingham, 55-57.

[3] Lockyer. Buckingham, 162.

[4] Lockyer. Buckingham, 187.

[5]Bergeron, David M. 2002. King James and Letters of Homoerotic Desire. University Of Iowa Press, 125.

[6] ) Bergeron. King James and…, 208.

[7] Letter form Buckingham to King James (c. 16th June 1624) ) Bergeron. King James and…, 205.

[8] Lockyer. Buckingham, 196-9.

[9] An excerpt from the letter form Buckingham to King James (c. August 1624) Bergeron. King James and…, 207.

[10] An excerpt from King James’s letter to Buckingham (c.1624) Ibid., 176.

Lockyer. Buckingham, 213, 226, 234-5.

#george villiers #king james vi and i #king charles i #kate villiers #mary and george #it's a travesty that he only had pox in the show #and wdym James returned his letters #they conversed about health a lot #ty georgie for making me read about your urin #and yellowish skin #sweet steenie #nothing gets one going like a good health talk #i am sane #i swear

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ukrfeminism · 2 years ago

Text

TW: male violence, femicide

2 minute read

A woman died after being seriously injured by a fellow patient in hospital toilets, an inquest has heard.

Caryl Mclaren, 89, was knocked to the floor by a man who had a history of violence against staff and patients.

She died five days after the incident at Ipswich Hospital in January 2022.

An inquest heard the patient, referred to as Mr X, lacked capacity but that no formal Mental Health Act assessment was completed for him, despite having been an inpatient for nearly three months.

The coroner was told the ward was short of two healthcare assistants that night and lacking beds for mental health patients.

A patient safety investigation report found that had there been "a formal risk assessment, a formal referral to a dementia specialist, increased staffing and a mental health referral, then on the balance of probabilities the incident could have been prevented".

Ms Mclaren, from Holland-on-Sea, Essex, was admitted on New Year's Eve suffering with shortness of breath.

She had several health conditions but was described as very independent and still walked to local shops.

The court heard she was cleared for discharge on 5 January and told her daughter she could not wait to return home.

She was in a toilet cubicle that day when the man forced the door open, knocking her to the floor, leaving her with a fractured wrist, rib and hip.

Mr X had advanced end-stage dementia.

Staff described how security were called to his behaviour on five separate occasions and how one nurse raised concerns about his aggression in an incident form in December 2021 after he had punched a healthcare assistant and tried to hit another patient.

The coroner was told he was declared fit for discharge on 29 November, more than a month before the incident, but that staff were unable to find him a care home that would take him quickly, largely because of his challenging behaviour.

Ann Rutland, a deputy chief nurse at the trust, said: "The delay in getting a suitable care placement could have added to the distress of Mr X."

'Many friends'

Mr X's consultant Dr Dan Coates said a formal Mental Health Act assessment was not completed for the patient until after the incident.

The hospital said it had implemented a 12-point improvement plan since Ms Mclaren's death, which included making it clearer to staff as to when patients should receive an assessment.

Ms Mclaren's daughter Lorraine Moss described her as the "most loving, kindest person, who had many friends".

The inquest was adjourned until 6 June.

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vonpharma · 2 months ago

Note

“handwaving genuine, good-hearted concrit, to refusing to even engage in the conversation at all, to constant changes that make the event less fun for a huge chunk of us”

Do you mind if I ask more about this? I’ve also participated in sicktember (casually) and I haven’t really noticed anything that fit this, so I just wanted to ask more about your experiences if you were comfortable elaborating. I’m mostly curious what changes were made that made the event less fun (other than delay in prompts released I heard about that)

yeah sure! right off the bat i wanna say that this is not something i was like. PISSED OFF or intending to start any drama about, just some stuff that made the event less enjoyable for me.

i also wanna say that you haven't noticed it because sicktember is very very careful to not publish anything that makes them look bad. they do not engage with any of their replies or asks unless they can spin it in a very sanitized, pr-friendly manner. try creeping through the tags and replies on some of their posts, and while a lot of shit is deleted or lost, you can still see traces of it, some of which i will link to here.

the prompts becoming more delayed. i wasn't here in 2021 (when they dropped in early march), but in 2022 they dropped in mid may. that was awesome because it gave us all lots of time to prep--my favourite thing about sicktember is how accessible of a prompt event it is! the prompts don't all drop like a week before the event starts, you have all summer to write so if you have a full time job or responsibilities you can still participate. this year they made it very clear the prompts were ready to go in may but didn't drop them until mid-june.

when people started sending asks about this, they responded thusly. they maintain this weird kinda... pr-friendly, stepford smiley vibe whenever anyone tries to open a dialogue with them? and it just comes across as so dismissive of anyone trying to make genuine points.

here they say that "many things go into planning prompts" but don't elaborate on that at all. for context, the night before this ask, they had made it clear that the prompts were all ready to go. the hand-waving comes in the form of all the "suggestions" they offer here--"well, you don't have to do every prompt!" (but i want to. it's fun. it feels good. and that's what i've done in the past) "you can write after september!" (i did that last year. it was kind of miserable. i like posting with everyone, it feels like a big celebration!) "we give you like 100 days!" (that's cool. but you could give us more at no detriment to yourself. a lot of us didn't make the deadline last year.)

check the notes on this post and you'll see several disappointed contributors/fans who are trying to open a dialogue with the event runners, all of whom were ignored. several people have reached out to me saying that their asks about this were ignored.

2. last year, they said they would only be accepting fills on the sicktember blog through submissions, and only posting 10 random ones a day. in the past, sicktember has reblogged every single fill directly from the writers.

here's why this is shitty:

when you submit something to a blog, the blog owner then becomes the one who effectively "owns" its engagement. that means any notes, reblogs, comments, follows, etc. all go to sicktember. they do not go to the person who MADE THE STORY. if you, the author, want to see what people are saying about your work, you have to pull up the sicktember window and obsessively check it. if you want to respond to any comments, you give sicktember more notes.

this is just more work, especially if you still want those notes. you would then have to make TWO posts, one on your personal blog and one on sicktember's. and people are probably disinclined to reblog a story twice. it is not exposure or engagement to do this, it actively robs authors of engagement.

sicktember might not even post your fill. they pick ten random ones a day. this is because...

they literally admitted that they lose followers when they reblog every fill. they said aloud that it is all about engagement for them. maintaining followers means more to them than highlighting the contributions of all the people who are making their event what it is. they are quite literally trying to maximize followers and stealing engagement from their contributors. it's kind of fucking insidious.

the only valid point here is the thing about reducing mod workload. still, they could've just... opened apps for another mod? inquired for some extra help? lord knows i would've jumped at the opportunity to curate! i'm sure others would've too.

contrast this to whumptober, who religiously reblog every single fill despite being a much longer running event than sicktember.

this is why i started @sicktemberfeed. with permission, but the mods were even weird about THAT... i asked if it would be ok to make, and they said "well, it's not like we could stop you." weird fucking answer. it's fine to say no.

3. i didn't speak out about point 2, but did speak out a little bit on this blog about point 1. @yes-i-am-happyaspie's husband (@spaceninjas42) dug through my blog, somehow found my untagged critique (it was not vitriolic or cruel, just a plea for an open discussion) and started getting on my case for talking about it on my personal blog. there was a second, much more vitriolic reply that he left but i was a dingus and blocked him as soon as i saw it, which means it's now marked deleted and i have no way of getting it back or proving it. that's kind of a "just trust me bro" situation.

4. the prompts this year were not very good. that is a purely subjective opinion i have, but a lot of us agree that they really stray from the concept of sickfic. we have a lot of heavier whump events floating around and the appeal of sicktember is that it is for fluffier, more low stakes stuff. seeing "cardiac arrest" and "anaphylaxis" and "medieval treatment" on there had me and a lot of others scratching our heads. their response to this is always "just sub it out!" but when we start running out of alt prompts because so many of the main ones are not what the audience is vibing with... there is room for critique there. there is room for a discussion.

i can't stress enough that the problem isn't necessarily these changes--they are not dealbreakers! the problem was sicktember's attitude. every single time anyone in the community tried to say 'hey, i think this idea could use work/tweaking' the response was basically just, again, the happy-go-lucky stepford smiler pr voice "we'd like to remind you that blah blah blah! happy writing, authors!" and absolute refusal to talk to their community at all. as i've said many times, this is not a dichotomy--where one side is "we fold to any criticism! our fans control us!" and the other side is "you're not entitled to anything! we run this event for free despite our busy lives!" like you can very much find a happy medium there but they just. do not.

none of that is a deal breaker, genuinely. i was still planning on participating up until the very end, and i obviously am now.

what was a deal breaker was them posting harry potter shit.

#wendy answers #Anonymous #also this is petty but they used an ace attorney gif in their hype post this year #which feels particularly pointed idk maybe im just self centered #but ace attorney has previously been the top fandom in their official collection #because of ME AND MY FRIENDS.#my discord server wrote 92 FUCKING ACE ATTORNEY FICS IN 2022 ALONE #which is almost more than DOUBLE the second most prominent fandom after it #in 2023 i wrote THIRTY of the 35 AA works #all this to say me and my friends #are pretty much the sole peddlers of ace attorney sicktember fics #and so them using that fucking gif of pearl fey after they BLOCKED ME #feels fucking High School as shit.#and again i wanna stress: THEY BLOCKED ME.#WITHOUT EVEN TALKING TO ME.#THEY DID NOT TELL ME WHY I WAS BLOCKED #THEY DID NOT EXPLAIN ANYTHING #AND I DIDN'T SEND THEM ASKS OR REALLY DO ANYTHING BESIDES OCCASIONALLY REPLY IN THEIR POSTS #AND I WAS ALWAYS CIVIL AND COMPASSIONATE AND TRIED MY BEST TO BE UNDERSTANDING #EVEN WHEN I DISAGREED #I WAS FRIENDLY AS CAN BE. AND THEY BLOCKED ME. PRESUMABLY BECAUSE THEY DUG THROUGH THIS BLOG #AND FOUND ME BEING A LITTLE MORE BITCHY BUT STILL WITH FULL INTENT TO PARTICIPATE AND SUPPORT THEM #like dude. man. cmon. dude.#anyways i AM tagging this one because since they blocked me i guess they've already decided i am #some antagonist #sicktember

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schismusic · 5 months ago

Text

Caterina Barbieri, six years later

After taking my last exam on June 4th I was waiting for the train home to leave. As the carriage I was in decided all of a sudden to piss a good liter of accumulated rainwater out of the ceiling and the walls behind me, I grabbed my earphones to listen to some music — and all of a sudden I was reminded of Information Needed to Create an Entire Body and INTCAEB by Caterina Barbieri. I first found out about Caterina Barbieri about a year and a half after she released Patterns of Consciousness, or right around the time she was releasing her retrospective compilation Born Again in the Voltage. At the time Caterina was a guest at a local electronic music festival, and it was incredibly unexpected for me to find myself more attracted by the two most mundane names in the lineup: hers, just a first name and a last name, exhuding elegant confidence; the other, Ross from Friends, a practical joke that sounded more fitting for some kind of fifth-wave emo band than it did the blissfully nostalgic tech-house act it actually stands for. And while I did love Family Portrait, I actually never listened to it in full in one single sitting. Patterns of Consciousness, on the other hand, immediately became my jam.

As I delved deeper and deeper into Barbieri's ever-looping, never-ending melody-making, I would actually find myself scouring for any and all available information on her work. Not much was available at the time, and I only accidentally stumbled upon her website that also included what I would later find out to be PoC's vinyl liner notes. Basically every melody Barbieri works with is a slow and constant accumulation/substitution of notes played by one monophonic synthesizer, dialed into a sequencer and slapped back and forth through a number of stereo delay lines to simulate counterpoint and even polyphony. The system by which the notes gather together and sort of gravitate into their respective position is, by the artist's own definition, "algorithmic", almost stochastic: eliminating possibilities until a powerful form coalesces and emerges out of nothing. Impossible to find a better soundtrack for my early university days, the 7am walks to Algebra class. And of course Information Needed to Create an Entire Body was exactly the sound I heard when learning how to count the subsets of k elements from a pool of n objects, or learning how to calculate the n-th number in the Bell succession. Little did I know that this record I'd naively stumbled upon would last longer in my memory than any of the classes I was attending at the time (this is regrettable, to an extent, but it also stands as a testament to just how much of an earworm Barbieri's work is).

I saw Caterina Barbieri play live three times, one of which together with Carlo Maria as Punctum (the sole vinyl pressing of Remote Sensing is to this day, speaking not just as a record collector but also as an estimator of that particular album, one of my "white whales": a gaping hole that might very well never be filled). It almost could have been four. I ran into Caterina Barbieri outside the train station of my city, about to catch the train to go back home; starstruck, I approached her, shook her hand. I knew she was going to play that night, and kind of in passing mentioned I would have loved to attend, but hadn't had any luck with the tickets. She was kind enough to offer to put me on a guestlist, which kind of took me aback: I wasn't even aware that that could have been a possibility, and I was so grateful she would offer that. I really did not know how to react to that. Unfortunately, the place she was going to play is pretty hard to get into, so nothing came of it, but even just the gesture was enough to actually make me stop and think. 2018 and 2019 weren't at all good years for me, but looking back it's these small, lacerating moments of kindness that stand out to me: signals that not everything was lost, that I could still become a better person and get better.

When Ecstatic Computation came out in May 2019, I had been religiously waiting for it to drop and the very moment I finally listened to it I knew we had an AOTY contender. It was literally everything I was hoping a sequel to Patterns to Consciousness to be, as someone who wasn't that into Born Again in the Voltage: heavily based on a comparable compositional method, yet somehow more human, more emotional, more ecstatic like the record itself says. I spent hours on end listening to the closing track, Bow of Perception, over and over again; the opener, Fantas, struck every chord it needed to; it was quite interesting and refreshing to hear Barbieri belt out ethereal vocals on Arrows of Time; However, the one that's stayed with me the most throughout all this is track 2: an otherwise unassuming, one-and-a-half-minute vignette striking like lightning with a sore violent melody in some sort of odd time signature (never really counted it out). Spine of Desire injects an inexplicable sense of danger into the entire record, and it never quite leaves, never afraid of its own nakedness, drenched in reverb it provokes the listener out of the analog warmth and into some edgier territories not too far removed from the more Oversteps-esque tracks on Remote Sensing.

Now I'll be completely honest with you all: I wasn't a fan of Spirit Exit when it came out, and I haven't exactly revisited it lately, but I did go to see Caterina Barbieri perform live at the RoBOt festival in October 2022 (on that same night, Ben Frost's show was plagued by performance-crashing issues to the main clock of all of his machines, and he still owned the night, shaking everything in his path right down to the bone). I had some fun, actually. I've met her and seen her so many times I'm convinced she must be terrified of me being some kind of stalker, which I clearly am not — I just like her live shows a lot, and if I had to be a bit of an asshole, they're usually on the cheap side, which makes it easier for me to go see them. At any rate, I went and grabbed a vinyl copy of the then-new album, which is still sitting unplayed on my shelf: not the nicest thing, but oh well. Now on the other hand, I knew what I was waiting for.

Last summer, Barbieri released a record called Myuthafoo, which she refers to as "Ecstatic Computation's sister album". The reason I was so hyped to hear it is that track 2, "Math of You", premiered (played along Pinnacles of You) in Virgil Abloh's Imaginary TV initiative. I was so fucking hyped to hear some new Barbieri tracks at the time — late 2020, I think — and when that track hit I was immediately sold. Spent a whole day reloading the page over and over again just so I could relisten to that new song: ice-fucking-cold. Like Ecstatic Computation, but from a parallel universe that's still in the middle of an ice age (Resident Advisor's review of the full album that featured it very cleverly says it's more or less like Ecstatic Computation, but replacing the human pulse with something more mechanical and computerized — I am paraphrasing, of course, to keep more in line with the tone of this piece and my writing in general). I was hooked. The opening synth swirl became its own track, Memory Leak, and it's as hard-hitting an opener as anything in Barbieri's catalog. Its strength? It is unbearably short. It should last much longer, and yet it doesn't. Cry about it.

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Then what: all of a sudden, on June 4th, 2024, I am standing near the exit door of the train home after my last exam, and I'm listening to these two tracks that in my head have been practically synonymous with fucking discrete mathematics and combinatorics, in what feels like another life yet at the same time all too close for comfort. And I still derive enjoyment from it, and it's still the exact same enjoyment, which to me is the craziest part. Sometimes we find small elements of our past selves, refracted into tangential information, fragmented and forlorn and yet crystallized exactly as they appeared at the time. This entire post is essentially a counterpoint to the OPN one: it's probably not only surprise that I'm looking for. It's also something deeper than that and at the same time much simpler.

In the summer of 2019 I had just gotten my driver's license. I got two friends of mine onto my mother's car and we drove to Fano to see Caterina Barbieri play live in a former church which had lost its ceiling during some 1943 bombings. I was hoping she would play Bow of Perception, but I knew — looking at her other live shows available on YouTube — she wasn't playing that track, and would usually start off with Fantas, move almost to the end of the record, then do an old one (usually Scratches on the Readable Surface). Whatever, anyway, I was still hoping, driving on a highway for the first time in my entire life, trying to remember all of the different bells and whistles you need to consider when you're just starting out behind the wheel. As I was sitting on the grass, now freely growing on what once was the inner floor of the church, I remember watching the opening act (an admittedly very talented guy by the moniker "Aspect Ratio", you can find him here (link Bandcamp)) remove his equipment from the stage and Caterina Barbieri taking position behind her machines. The tension was palpable, for some reason. And then that first staccato line hit me. All of a sudden I knew it was going to turn out okay, as hard as it had been. Six years later, that same old feeling of catharsis runs me over again.

#musica #music #schismusic #schism writing #long form content #caterina barbieri #electronic music #minimalism #techno #Bandcamp #Youtube

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