#wrestling my brain because it feels ridiculous

[thornheartless]

Actually I am getting bored of being the "haha, funny, pathetic, short twink." If anyone needs me I'll be listening to Shinedown and Three Days Grace while working out.

[alaia777]

omg i got sooo excited when i saw this event on ur pinned post, also congrats on 200 eeeee u deserve it! >w< could i pleasee ask for "i want to marry you." with shido? like just chilling with him and then him saying it out of nowhere and we're so confused becuz there is not one serious bone in that mans body LOL, but ofc you can do a different scenario, i think anything u write will be adorbs<333

sorry for my bad english btw :3

hellooo, thank you so so much :’)))) i love your idea so much omg! i hope you like it, and also your english is perfect, don’t worry!!!

the living room floor was a mess of pillows and blankets, the aftermath of your boyfriend’s relentless begging for you to wrestle with him. you had other ways you would’ve preferred to spend your afternoon, but you gave in—mostly because you loved him, but also because you knew he needed to burn off some energy.

he didn’t take it seriously, of course. he never did. instead of an actual match, it turned into him picking you up, tossing you onto the couch, and carrying you around the room while laughing like a maniac. you didn’t even try to fight back in the end, just letting him have his fun.

now, after all that, the two of you were sprawled across the couch and floor, tangled up in the blankets, watching some comedy you had picked out. if he had chosen, it would’ve been something violent and disturbing—probably something that would make you question his taste in movies.

you could see him from the corner of your eye, stealing glances your way every few minutes. it was only a matter of time before he came up with some ridiculous idea—he always did.

last time, he had turned to you completely serious and asked if you two could try communicating telepathically for a whole day. before that, it was if you’d be willing to fake your own deaths and run away together “just to see if we could pull it off.”

but nothing could have prepared you for what he was about to say next.

“i want to marry you.”

for a few seconds—seconds that felt like an eternity for him—all you could do was stare, your mind scrambling to process his words. you searched his face for any hint of mischief, any telltale smirk that would give away a joke, but there was nothing.

no teasing glint in his eyes. no sly grin.

just him, watching you intently, waiting.

“like, right now?”

it’s the first thing that leaves your lips, and honestly—really? that’s what you go with? of all the things you could say, of all the ways you could respond to something this huge, that’s what your brain decides on?

but, to be fair, thinking straight is nearly impossible when your heart is pounding against your ribs, and his eyes—so steady, so intense—are holding you in place, making you want to say yes to whatever he wants, whatever he asks.

“if that’s what you want, yes. we could go to the courthouse right now and buy the rings on the way there.”

he says it so easily, like he’s suggesting grabbing takeout for dinner. like marrying you is the most natural thing in the world—because to him, maybe it is.

“it doesn’t even matter how it happens, as long as, at the end of the night, i know we’re carrying the same last name.”

you’re this close to crying.

but then, just as your heart starts to swell, he leans in, brushing his thumb over your cheek with a smirk that’s softer than usual.

“but,” he continues, voice lighter now, “i want you to have the wedding of your dreams. a pretty dress, in a pretty place, with all our friends and family.” he pauses, then scoffs, “not that i care about any of them. i just want an excuse to stare at the woman of my dreams for an entire day without anyone calling it weird.”

and just like that, you’re laughing and crying all at once, because only he could make you question everything you thought you knew about love.

you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. you’re not sure whether to laugh or cry, but the overwhelming emotion feels like both. this man, with his wild ideas, his way of making everything feel bigger than it is, is making your heart race in ways you didn’t expect.

you wipe away a stray tear, your voice catching as you speak. “you really know how to make a girl feel special,” you joke, wiping the moisture from your cheek.

his grin widens, and he leans closer, his breath warm against your skin. “well, i’ve got to keep up, right? otherwise, you’d probably realize you can do better.”

“is that a challenge?” you tease back, narrowing your eyes with a playful smirk. “because if it is, you’re about to lose.”

his smile softens, and for a moment, it’s just the two of you, tangled in blankets, a mess of pillows, and the soft glow of the tv casting shadows across the room.

he reaches for your hand, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles. “i don’t want anyone else, though. i just want you. for real.”

you look into his eyes, so full of sincerity, and feel the weight of the moment settle in. “well, if you’re serious about that, then we’ll figure it out. together. and who knows? maybe one day we’ll have that wedding.”

he laughs softly, but there’s a warmth in it that’s different this time. “we’ll do it right,” he says, “the way you deserve. but first, how about i just get to stare at you for a little longer?”

and with that, the two of you relax into each other, the laughter and tears fading into the background, replaced by the quiet, comforting presence of knowing that whatever comes next, you’ll face it together.

[toomuchracket]

when i found you, much younger than you are now (flatmate/dad!matty x reader)

ten years of self-titled!! can u believe!! anyway, a little fluffy drabble about the day the album was released, and also about the day it turned ten, as voted for by you guys. enjoy!

2013

when you enter the kitchen, the linoleum floor cold even through your fluffy socks, matty is staring at the fridge. namely, at the thing pinned between two shitty manchester fridge magnets - a futile attempt by you to reduce your shared homesickness when you moved down south.

he's staring at the calendar, which under today's date reads "75 album release day!!!!" in your handwriting, adorned with as many lovehearts and stars and smiley faces as you could fit in the tiny box.

not that either of you were at any risk of forgetting the date, mind, but you thought it would be cute to commemorate it anyway. "you can keep it as a memento in the future," you had said, as you wrestled with the paper and the bumblebee magnet and the laws of physics while putting the calendar up. "when you're living in a malibu beach house in a decade, married to a supermodel, you can look at that calendar and think of the day your first album came out. and maybe also of me, back in london, or manchester, or maybe edinburgh... i don't know where exactly, but most likely on the other side of the world from you and your gorgeous wife. it'll be cute!"

(neither of you thought it was cute whatsoever, though.)

matty turns when he hears your half-shuffling footsteps, face twisting into a sleepy smile that splinters your heart. he opens his arms as you near him, pulling you into a washing powder-scented hug and resting his lips on your hair. "hi, darlin'."

"hi," you murmur into his sweatshirt. "happy album day."

"thanks," you feel matty's cheeks twitch into a smile against your head. "feels quite surreal, honestly. we have an album out. mad."

you caress the space between his shoulder blades. "i can imagine - it's insane for me to even think that my best friend in the world has an album out. m'so proud of you though, babe."

"couldn't have done it without you, sweetheart. oh, that reminds me..."

matty breaks the hug - and, in the process, your heart - to reach for one of the CDs piled haphazardly between the radio and the kettle. he hands you one with an all too familiar cover art, accompanying his "here" with a grin.

"matty, i said i would buy it!" you protest. "i want to be a part of getting you a number one."

"that's cute, babe, but nah," matty folds his arms and smirks. "there wouldn't be an album without you, because there wouldn't be EPs without you and your room at uni. so, the boys and i figured that you were the perfect person to get the first album CD actually made."

your eyes fill with tears at the ridiculously sweet, ridiculously too generous gesture. "wait, really?"

"i mean, it was my idea, of course," matty winks, which earns him a shove on the arm. "but yeah, that's the very first 1975 album disc. open it, darlin', look at the lyric booklet."

sniffling, you do as requested; your sniffles turn to full-blown sobs as you take in the "to our favourite girl. thanks for the love (and the pints) xx" dedication written on the first page, sobs which only increase in volume as you take in the lyrics, handwritten by matty rather than typed.

you gently place the CD and booklet back on the counter, and pull your sweetly-smiling best friend into a teary hug. "thank you, sweetheart. i feel very special."

"you are," matty replies, tenderly stroking the back of your head. "you're the most special, to me."

your heart jolts at that, and you squeeze matty even tighter, pull him even closer to you. but it's not close enough to satisfy you, it never is - nothing short of his skin cells grafting to yours and consuming them would stop your heart and brain and nervous system aching for him.

well, a kiss would probably do it, but that's far less likely to happen.

the painfully tender moment is interrupted by matty's back pocket buzzing, which provides a blissful relief from the thoughts about kissing your best friend that were beginning to awake from their dormancy. alas, the relief is short-lived - matty sighs in your ear, and murmurs "will you get that for me, sweetheart? don't wanna let go of you."

with a hopefully-unnoticeable gulp, you slide your hand down matty's back and into his pocket to pull out his phone. you squint at the caller ID. "s'george."

"should probably speak to him, i s'pose," matty says, planting a final (and devastating) kiss to your head before letting go of you and taking his phone. "are you gonna go and listen to the album while you get ready for the party later?"

you grin sheepishly. "already bought and listened to it on itunes."

"you're incorrigible. but i love you."

"ooh, big word! i love you too," you smile. "and tell george i love him too, and i can't wait to celebrate with you all later."

matty winks. "will do, darlin'."

you wink back and grab your CD, turning on your heel and wandering to your bedroom to begin the arduous process of getting ready for the album release dinner and subsequent party. it goes by quicker than usual, though, soundtracked by the boys, punctuated by congratulatory texts to and from ross and george and a half-hour congratulatory phone call with adam, and powered by the excitement of knowing you can be extra affectionate with matty today and it won't be weird.

it goes by so quickly, in fact, that you're almost completely finished your makeup when matty peers round your slightly-open door. "hey babe, would you mind- oh, wow, you look gorgeous!"

it's almost embarrassing how warm your cheeks get at that simple statement. you swivel to face your flatmate, smiling bashfully. "thanks, sweetheart. i was a bit worried the eye makeup was too much for dinner, but i've committed to it now, i s'pose."

"no, it's perfect," matty says softly, coming into the room and perching on the end of your bed. you're perfect, he wishes he could add - it's cliché, but god, is it true. "i love it."

your cheeks burn, and lift of their own accord. "i'm glad."

matty smiles back just as widely as you. there's a pleasant silence for a moment, reluctantly broken by you before matty forgets his train of thought. "did you want to ask me something, babe?"

"oh, shit, yeah," matty nods. "would you mind - if you have the time, that is - drying my hair for me? can never get it to sit right. but like it's cool if not, i can do it myself, i just like it more when it's you doing it and-"

"matty," you interject, before he talks himself unconscious. "of course i will. just let me do my lipstick first, yeah? then i'm all yours."

all his. christ, what he wouldn't give. "take your time, darlin'. thanks a lot."

"s'no problem," you say, turning back to your dressing table and rifling through a pile of lipsticks. matty smiles as you open a few in turn, furrowing your brow as you wordlessly narrow down your colour options; the smile is wiped clean off his face when you drop your jaw and swipe a dark pink over your lips, forming them into an O as you make sure the lipstick is applied perfectly. fuck. your mouth.

(the lyric from talk! is most definitely about you, but he'll never tell.)

after the most agonising minute of matty's life, you turn around to face him. "ok, i'm finished making myself pretty. your turn, babe."

"you're always pretty," matty says, kissing the top of your head as you stand up to let him sit in the chair; he finger guns towards his reflection as he does. "and so am i."

you roll your eyes. "maybe it's best if the album doesn't go to number one, actually. your head might explode, healy."

"best make sure my hair looks good then, babe."

"when has it not, when i've styled it? it's me you're talking to, not george."

"fair point."

with a wink to him through the mirror, you rake one hand through matty's hair and aim the hairdryer at it with the other. he closes his eyes, sinking back into the plush seat, enjoying the soothing combination of warm air and your gentle touch - your nails lightly scratch his scalp the way you know he loves, and he hums contentedly. fuck the dinner, fuck the party, fuck celebrating the album; matty would be happy just to stay like this forever with you.

you'd be happy with that too, to be honest.

matty slowly opens his eyes as you put down the hairdryer and finish shaping his hair with your hands. you crouch to get the back looking just so, then rest your chin on his shoulder and smile at him through the mirror. "beautiful boy."

tilting his head so it rests on yours, matty beams at you through the mirror. "thanks, sweetheart. we do look quite hot, don't we? we should memorialise it, i think."

"now? we're not even dressed for tonight yet," you say, as matty pulls his phone from his pocket and opens the camera.

"trust me, babe, this is just the first of many pictures i intend to take to document this very important day. and the first of many pictures i intend to take of you, looking all hot and glamorous."

"charmer. alright, take the pic."

"alright, darlin'."

*

2023

when you enter the kitchen, the déja vu of a moment from a decade ago practically smacks you in the face. never mind that it's a different house, with a different kitchen and a different floor (tiled, not lino, but still cold under socked feet).

just as he was exactly ten years ago to the day, albeit with different hair, matty is staring at something pinned between two shitty manchester magnets on the fridge (also different - a smeg you were embarrassingly excited about buying when you and matty moved here). rather than the calendar from before, though, it's the picture the two of you took while you were getting ready to celebrate the album release.

again, matty turns to smile at you as you near him - well, as best he can with a toddler clinging to his leg and a 7 month-old baby in his arms. you can see in his eyes that the déja vu is getting to him as well. that, and the way his smile widens as he says "hi, sweetheart".

"hi. happy ten years of your first album," you grin, moving closer to kiss him quickly. dylan lets go of her dad's leg and raises her arms towards you; when you pick her up and kiss her cheek, she giggles and hides her face in your neck. smiling, you do the same to elena, who beams mostly toothlessly at you in response. "and hello to you too, my babies! were you good for daddy while mummy was at work?"

soft curls tickling your neck tells you that dylan is nodding, an action matty copies enthusiastically. "they were perfect," he says, booping elena on her tiny nose and making her giggle - your favourite sound on the planet. "they take after their mum, of course."

you roll your eyes. "ever the charmer, healy."

"you know it, healy," matty grins, relishing the chance for acknowledgement of your shared last name, the same way he's done at any opportunity since you took it as your own four years ago. "we were just talking about mummy, weren't we, dyl? how in that photo she thought i was going to be married to somebody else by now, but daddy always knew he wouldn't marry anybody but her."

your heart glows with overwhelming love for matty and his words; it quickly begins to burn with embarrassment at your past utter cluelessness, though. "well, i genuinely didn't think you liked me in that way, the way i liked - like - you."

"silly mummy," dylan giggles, playing with the pendant on your necklace that bears her first initial, as well as those of her father and sister.

you tickle her little tummy, and the giggles increase tenfold. "silly mummy indeed!"

your toddler's giggles fade into little hums, and her tiny face turns placidly serious as she looks at the picture of her parents. "but pretty mummy."

"the prettiest," matty agrees, trying his best to extrapolate elena's tiny fist from one of his curls.

"well, maybe in a few hours, once i'm ready for the party," you say, stepping forward to save your husband's hair from his mini-me's grip. it takes you both a minute, considering you're both operating with only one daughter-less limb, but matty's curls escape mostly unscathed from your baby's possessive grasp. elena might be a matty clone, but she really is your daughter, no doubt about it. "which i really should start working on, considering everyone will be here in... three hours. will you all sit with me while i do my makeup?"

"of course we will," matty nods, holding out his free hand for you to take with your own. "lead the way, wifey."

for the second time that day, although you're sure there will be many more instances of it, there's an overwhelming familiarity to the scene in your bedroom. with the exception of dylan sitting on the vanity, copying you and pretending to put her own makeup on with one of your clean blush brushes, and elena doing tummy time on your bed and babbling away happily, the process is much the same as it was exactly a decade ago - enjoyable, quick, interspersed with excitement and texts and calls from your equally-excited friends.

the soundtrack is also different, although it's still matty singing; instead of the songs about, well, drugs and blowjobs that had scored your pampering in the past, he's doing a medley of disney songs, nursery rhymes, and... "babe, is that britney spears?"

mirroring his youngest daughter and lying on his stomach on the bed, matty glances up, eyes gleeful. "yeah! lena loves it. look - oops, i did it again, i played with your heart, got lost in the game, ooh baby baby."

true enough, elena shrieks with laughter and taps her hands against the duvet in accompaniment to her dad's singing. you laugh too, picking dylan up and moving to sit beside the other half of your family. once you're settled, you scoop elena into your arms and sit her against your knees. "you have such good taste, my girl!"

"mmm, so do i," your husband hums, looking at you with barely-concealed attraction in his dark eyes. "you look gorgeous, darling."

over ten years of matty compliments, and they still shoot straight to your knees and turn them wobbly. you lift your burning cheeks in response. "thanks, sweetheart. you're not too bad yourself."

"you think so? because i was going to ask you about fixing my hair again-"

"i honestly don't think it needs it, babe."

"really? well, in that case," matty reaches back to grab his phone from his back pocket, before rolling to a sitting position and tugging dylan into him. "scootch in, then."

dylan watches her dad open the camera app. "photo now?"

"yes, munchkin."

"but my dress!"

"oh, you're your mother's daughter right enough," matty smiles. "we'll take one picture first, dyl, and then you can go and put your dress on in time for your aunties and uncles and cousins arriving, yeah?"

"ok."

"that's the spirit," matty ruffles his toddler's head, before putting his arm around you. "say cheese!"

after his girls oblige, dylan moves round to talk to her baby sister, while matty opens the picture to see how it turned out; you lean in and rest your chin on his shoulder again so that you can look too. "oh, matty, look how cute we all are!"

"definitely fridge-worthy," matty laughs, kissing your temple. he leans back slightly to look at you, bringing a hand up to lightly caress your hair. "i can't believe it's been ten years. for both the album and the two of us. although they always went hand in hand for me, to be honest. constantly thought about you while i wrote it. and i still constantly think about you now."

you press a quick kiss to matty's lips, wiping away your lipstick stain with your thumb - matty tries to kiss it as you do, which earns him a laugh and a "matthew" from you. "i love you, baby."

"i love you too, sweetheart. here's to the next ten years."

[the-most-humble-blog]

The Day I Learned Wrestling Wasn’t Fake: Papa Shango, the Ultimate Warrior, and a Horrified 8-Year-Old Me

When Your Parents Say Wrestling is Fake, but Papa Shango Starts Casting Spells on National TV

Let’s go back to a simpler time: the early 1990s. A time when wrestling wasn’t just a sport—it was a religion, a soap opera, and a live-action cartoon rolled into one. Back then, I thought wrestling was real, and I’d fistfight anyone who dared say otherwise. But even as my parents whispered the dreaded phrase, “You know wrestling is fake, right?” Papa Shango hit the screen, proving that nothing about wrestling was fake—especially not the dark magic.

And then came the night when the voodoo priest himself, Papa Shango, cast spells on The Ultimate Warrior. Spells. On live TV. And my 8-year-old self? Absolutely traumatized.

1. The Night Wrestling Became Real

I still remember it like it was yesterday. There was the Ultimate Warrior, the unstoppable, face-painted demigod who could shake the ropes with the energy of a caffeinated tiger. He wasn’t just a wrestler—he was a superhero. And then Papa Shango showed up.

This guy wasn’t just a bad guy; he was a whole villain genre. Voodoo beads, a skull staff, and face paint that screamed “your nightmares just got a new mascot.” He started mumbling incantations, and suddenly the Warrior—my Warrior—was doubled over, leaking black goo from his head like an exorcism gone wrong.

Kid Logic: “This can’t be fake. Black goo doesn’t lie.”

2. The Harlem Shake Heard Around the World

And then came the shake. Not the cool kind, like Michael Jackson’s moonwalk, but the kind you do when your body is 90% terrified and 10% possessed. The Ultimate Warrior started jerking around like he’d been cursed by a voodoo god, and I was losing it.

Kid Thought: “If Papa Shango can do this to the Warrior, what chance do I have?!”

That night, I slept with a light on—and my Ultimate Warrior action figure under my pillow, just in case Papa Shango decided to pay me a visit.

3. The Parents’ Betrayal

After the episode, my parents tried to comfort me. “It’s all fake,” they said, trying to sound calm.

Fake?! Did they see the goo? The convulsions? Fake was when the Road Runner dropped an anvil on Wile E. Coyote. This wasn’t fake. This was Papa Shango manifesting real voodoo chaos on national TV.

When you’re 8, logic is irrelevant. If you see it on TV, it’s real. End of discussion.

4. Wrestling’s Commitment to the Bit

Looking back, you have to respect the lengths the WWE (then WWF) went to make these storylines work. Papa Shango wasn’t just a wrestler; he was a whole mood.

The Props: The skull staff? Iconic. The fake black goo? Disturbingly convincing.

The Acting: The Ultimate Warrior deserved an Oscar for that performance. Seriously, someone put that man in a horror film.

The Audience Manipulation: They didn’t just want you to watch; they wanted you to believe. And believe I did.

5. The Day Wrestling Broke My Heart

Of course, as I got older, the illusion started to crack. The spellcasting? Special effects. The goo? Probably corn syrup mixed with food coloring. And Papa Shango? Just a guy named Charles Wright, who would later become The Godfather, trading voodoo for a pimp gimmick.

But here’s the thing: even when you know it’s scripted, it doesn’t matter. Wrestling isn’t about reality; it’s about the spectacle. It’s about suspending disbelief just long enough to let a voodoo priest scare the hell out of an 8-year-old and make millions of people talk about it decades later.

6. Why Wrestling Was—and Is—Magic

Even now, as a full-grown adult with bills, responsibilities, and a brain that knows better, wrestling still feels magical.

It’s absurd.

It’s theatrical.

And sometimes, it’s just real enough to make you question everything.

Lesson Learned: Sometimes, it’s okay to believe in the black goo, the spells, and the Harlem shake. Because life’s a lot more fun when you let yourself get lost in the ridiculousness.

Papa Shango Won That Night

So, yes—wrestling is “fake.” But that night, Papa Shango was real. And so was the fear, the awe, and the sheer ridiculous joy of watching The Ultimate Warrior shake like he’d been cursed by every voodoo priest in history.

Love reliving these absurd, magical moments from your childhood? Follow The Most Humble Blog for more hilarious, nostalgic deep dives and unapologetic truth bombs.

[altschmerzes]

Wait wait wait...to get snippets of Driving A Wedge...we just...ask? 🥹

....can we have some more, please?

that is PRECISELY the way to get them and yes you absolutely may :)

this is from after the rescue also. river is having some trouble... adjusting. the world feels like a very different place - or, rather, the world feels like the same place and he is not the same person. he's particularly having trouble sometimes keeping lamb and frank separate in his mind for reasons he is Not planning to examine too closely. this is a longer clip so most of it is under the cut.

--

“Or what? What are you going to beat me with if I don’t, sir?” The word he’s just used barely registers to River, but it does register. He spares just a fraction of attention to it, cringing internally, but there’s far more to be worried about at the moment than that particular slip.

Because Lamb is rolling his eyes and snapping back, taking a step towards the side of his desk like he might be about to come around it and saying, loud and annoyed, “I don’t know, Cartwright, you seem to have all the answers today, what do you suggest?”

Everything goes a little strange, then. River’s breath catches in his chest and he doesn’t know what he was expecting Lamb to have said in response to his ridiculous, bratty challenge but it wasn’t that. He can’t quite think clearly anymore, and maybe he hasn’t been thinking clearly this whole time, really, maybe his stupid fucking brain hasn’t been working right since he woke up this morning, but it doesn’t matter. Working brain or no, River knows he needs to answer, needs to say something, and ideally say it soon. Lamb is giving him one of those looks that Lamb has given him a thousand times before but he doesn’t know what to make of it this time. And in case the question was real, ignoring it is no kind of option. River knows now that he’s fucked up and fucked up badly and he doesn’t need to be making it worse for himself.

What do you suggest? There are… options. River could say any number of things, any number of items around Slough House that would do the trick, but he just can’t seem to pick one of them. It doesn’t feel real. None of this feels real.

Lamb has never been violent to him before, and River is honestly finding it bizarrely difficult to picture, even now, to imagine ahead of time how this is could possibly go. It’s making it hard to predict, to have some kind of expectation of what to prepare himself for in anticipation of what’s about to happen. (Maybe. Maybe about to happen. River doesn’t know for certain, does he? Maybe this is insane. This is probably insane, right? It’s not like Lamb is actually going to— He couldn’t truly plan on—)

Still, it’s Lamb. People have made the mistake of assuming he isn’t capable of much anymore, and River doesn’t intend to be one of them. He’s capable of plenty, and River still hasn’t given him an answer. Lamb asked him a question and he hasn’t answered, and there’s no point in avoiding it. If there’s even the thinnest chance it was serious, that Lamb wanted him to make a suggestion for what to— Just. Further disobedience never made anything better. Always made it worse.

“There’s an extension cord by my desk,” River says in a voice from which he strips of every bit of that emotion he can possibly remove, and he doesn’t even have to think that hard to come up with it. He can see it in his minds eye, the dusty off-white coil of hardened plastic that he thinks he ought to put away somewhere it won’t be a tripping hazard every time he catches sight of it.

Fuck that would hurt. There would be blood. Worse than a belt. Probably a lot worse.

River’s hands are trembling a little bit and he can feel them doing so, shuddering in uncontrollable little shivers. He should stop. He knows that he should figure out a way to stop them, to wrestle down his reactions and suffocate them, but he had never been quite so good at that part as Patrice. That steely thousand-yard stare in the face of all but the worst pain is something that River just never got the hang of and it still eludes him now. His eyes are wide and he doesn’t know what the rest of his face looks like but he’s sure that there’s something happening on it, especially because he can see Lamb’s face and the look that he wears is nothing like the one he’d had on moments earlier.

“What?” The question is nothing short of shocked.

[doberbutts]

I also think- having recently seen a post that said Blue Eye Samurai isn't a queer story, it just has queer elements- that sometimes it feels like fans cannot make up their minds.

Do we or do we not want stories that treat being gay as a perfectly normal, perfectly common experience the same way straight people are depicted in every story to ever exist?

In BES, no one is outright stated to be queer. That's partially because in Japan, until Japan felt the need to sanitize itself to appeal to foreigners, it wasn't unheard of at all for men to be gay. Multiple famous samurai and swordsmen and nobles were either outspokenly gay or are commonly theorized to have been gay in modern historical readings. Abijah making multiple references to swinging both ways, Kaji's offer of a male prostitute, the various scenes we have of men being together in sexual positions, they're not met with surprise because homosexuality was an acknowledged thing that happened.

Taigen's erection while he's wrestling Mizu, even though he doesn't yet know her secret, is treated awkwardly because they're supposed to dislike each other and also he's supposed to be in love with Akemi, not because "whoa bro no homo".

(This is also why I keep saying that it's difficult for me to put into English words what I think Mizu's gender is, because gender and sexuality quite frankly did not work the way my 2020s American brain wants to contextualize it, and I think it's important to consider the cultural aspects here esp in a show so heavily leaning on a racial story)

However, compared to many other shows out there even regarding the same area and country, BES is significantly more queer than the majority of them produced in the last 30 years. Is Mizu herself queer? Well... maybe, depending how you define it. Back in the day, otherwise cisgender crossdressers and male-impersonators were still grouped in with those we'd call transgender nowadays. She seems to be exclusively interested in men, but also seems to be equally receptive to considering herself sexually as both a man and a woman pairing with men, than as a man or woman pairing with women which she has adamantly refused with zero interest on multiple occasions.

Is Taigen bi? I mean, maybe! He seemed more mortified that he had an unwanted erection in front of someone he wanted to impress and play with, than that he had it over someone he considers a man, using the excuse that he misses his would-be fiance.

Abijah certainly seems to be bisexual, considering we see him having sex with both women and men, and his various sexual references talk about both men and women as well. This is ignoring whatever weird sexual tension thing he's got going with Heiji, who seems both receptive and repulsed by it.

And, not to be remiss, but there is a reason I specified that homosexuality among men was pretty known. Due to the more rigid policing of women's sexuality in this era, homosexuality among women was less commonly reported (though I have heard stories of noble women and their handmaids, or the working poor women, or among prostitutes living together in the brothels, so also not unheard of but perhaps less accepted as women were largely bought and sold in marriage and sex trafficking) - but even with all of that, Kaji and Kinuyo have something together. Whether that is a mother-daughter thing, or if they were lovers, is up to interpretation. The implication that out of everyone at the brothel that Kaji genuinely cares for, Kinuyo was special, and that wasn't a particularly uncommon arrangement historically if I'm hearing about it 400 years later in a completely different country.

So this "well it's not a queer show" and "if I was told this was a queer story I'd be disappointed" is honestly just ridiculous hooey to me. Do you want characters who are able to explore their sexualities without looking over their shoulder out of fear of homophobia, or not?

[terresdebrume]

More fic covers | More fic recs

I mentioned I made fic cover in a recent post and it reminded me that I'd meant to make one for SJTrinity's Band of Brothers fic: Under Thunder and Rain which is THE Webgott fic, as far as I'm concerned. I've reread it something like five time in the past three months, it's ridiculous. You should read it to.

More about my thought process under the cut, with some spoilers.

So, the entire fic is amazing, of course, but the scene that keeps standing up in my mind is the one in chapter 4, where David is about to sail away on the Tusitala and Joe tries to convince him not to. I love this scene, the vulnerability in both of them, the fact that they find each other, the fact that Joe doesn't realize that it's him David was looking for in the sea. (I know David compares himself to the Shark from the Frisco chapter, but to me his fight to catch said shark is also an excellent parallel of the way he constantly has to reel Joe in and then give him some slack before he breaks the line in his struggle.)

All this to say: I had to have the Tusitala on the cover, if only because if this boat could talk it would be able to tell the tale of how Joe and David finally stop struggling and come together for good. The rain, of course, is a reference to the title and the poem David writes Joe in chapter 5, but I still wanted a bright blue sky as the background because I feel like the vivid and peaceful color are a good contrast to the way they struggle to find their way to one another (and also it reminds me of Episode 10 of BOB, where the color is back in the world and it feels like everything should be alright, but Easy is still losing men and none of them is free of the weight of the war.

The title and author name being on pieces of paper is, of course, a nod to Joe's box full of David's letters and notes, which is also featured against the title card. I wanted watercolor of a bag of groceries for the upper left corner, to further reference that first note and the fact that we don't know how significant it is until the end of the story, because Joe keeps all his cards fucking close to the chest, even if he also betrays himself in his struggle.

(Full disclosure, on my latest rereads the bits that caught my brain were

the time David asks Joe if his future wife does have a smile to die for and Joe says "yeah, it's a great smile. Drives me nuts." While running a finger over David's lips

"He wouldn't add or take away a single thing, and the people who read that book would know how fucking lucky he had been, how he had fought against it and gotten it anyways, this symphony of a life.")

Unfortunately, I couldn't find any graphic on Canva that fit the style of the rest of the cover, so I got a pastry instead. I picked the croissant because, while not extremely sweet for a delicatessen, it's very buttery, and, well: "Copious amounts of sugar and butter clearly loosened him in a way even sex couldn't achieve, because when David came and stood beside him by the stove, Joe threw an arm around his shoulder and bumped their heads together, then playfully tried to wrestle him off his feet." which I feel is also a delightfully deep insight into Joe in general.

And last but not least: the transparent text is the last note David writes Joe in the fic, standing in as the last page of Joe's unwritten book of them.

[the-nysh]

Yes hello, I would deary love to hear your thoughts on Vash grappling E. G. the Mine, please? 👀 I loved your thoughts on his shooting skills and other grappling skills.

Also, any thoughts on Wolfwood? That big cross is so ridiculously big and heavy, but the way he just swings it around is impressive. (Also hnnng, that scene where he uses the laser beam to cut the Grand Worm in half was so cool.)

Omg, mkay lemme try to hunt for a gif of that choke hold real quick...

Because what gets my attention is the way Vash repositions and flexes his arm even tighter, from securely holding him there in a warning, to oh O.O;;; that looks real and he means business. 👀

Because there are 2 basic ways to choke someone out--in a fight!! Or err, a grappling/wrestling situation. The obvious way most people think of is the air tract--the trachea, which is a little awkward and takes longer, so the much faster and efficient (but less obvious) way is a blood choke--where you restrict the neck's artery circulation to the brain, and the person can easily/cleanly lose coordination and black out within moments, regardless of how well they can still breathe.

To do that, you get someone's head in the crook of your arm like Vash here, and flex your bicep and forearm tight around the inner sides of their neck--pressing in where both their pulse points would be (not the air!) at the same time and...yeah. Struggling around makes it harder to get into position (compared to practicing on a consenting still partner, which you can safely try! just remember to either tap out the moment you start feeling light-headed with a headache and/or see black spots in your vision, or better yet, sit while holding both hands raised up and the choker partner should release you the moment your hands start to drop), but once you get it, it happens pretty quick, and beefier guys can easily achieve this type of choke by simply flexing their muscles around a neck--heck they can probably crush the trachea too while they're at it for both chokes at once!

In Vash's case though, he doesn't want to render the guy unconscious just yet cause he still needs information from him, but I'm just saying...from this choke hold position he's in, he can easily do all that (and more) by flexing his real arm strength if he wanted to! 👀👀

----

Now for Wolfwood, ahaha gosh--in contrast to Vash, his ginormous Punisher Cross is so ridiculous (I think it's like 200-300lbs of mercy or something, also the skull design for the grip area is pretty rad, once I recognized what the shape was in the manga I was like oh neat!) that it's basically full on fantasy territory over much realism. :'D In before Vash shows us his over the top fantasy 'guns' too. No like actual person could lug that thing around, let alone effortlessly spin it around with the flair he does. That it's also really funny when he just -bonk- swings it like a heavy battering ram too. He also doesn't really need to dodge or utilize many defensive techs/maneuvers (that I've seen from him yet), beyond using the whole weapon as a body shield sometimes, since he can heal himself.

What his character and fighting style actually remind me of is the Desperado movie (with Antonio Banderas) in fact, one of the manga chapters was named after that too. Where the gunslinging mc comes waltzing out with his buddies who all carry around large guitar cases...that are actually hidden machine guns and fucking rocket launchers. x'D It's as hilarious as it is awesome to see them all just go ham in a wild west shootout with literal guitar-guns. So when Stampede Wolfwood brings out his updated cross-gun to flex a fucking laser beam canon out of it, now that's just lmaoooooooo, going stupid crazy on the 'rule of cool' factor, ohoho. x3

[campgender]

been following you for a while and i want to express how much your blog gives me solace and safety and courage. in college i had a few sexual encounters that were just… vaguely disappointing, and i’ve been pretty much celibate in the years since, and i’ve been realizing that when i think about the future and potential partners that i’ve been kind of preemptively compromising? like i thought that in order for anyone to deign to have sex with me i would have to just ignore whatever i want sexually and just do whatever someone else wants which if i had been applying to any other aspect of a relationship but sex i would think is ridiculous!! (ok so the self worth is also an ongoing process but i’m working on it). anyway when i found your blog it lit a fire in my brain and i’ve been on a journey of actively exploring my own sexuality and thinking about the kind of sex i want to have, both by myself and with other people in the future. so anyway. thank you.

god i’ve been holding this message so close to my heart since you sent it, thank you so much for sharing this with me 💖💖 i know i say this a lot but as a homebound person any time one of y’all tells me i’ve had an impact in your life it makes me feel so real, reminds me that my connections with the world are two-way & not just me looking out at life / community, & i’m so profoundly grateful for that.

i really respect + admire + learn from a lot of fems who chose/choose sex writing & talking about sex as a major component of their lives-work, & i’ve been wrestling with that call myself a lot over the past two years — it is so fucking hard not to be ashamed of my past self for being willing to publicize their desires — & this message makes me feel of a lineage with my chosen ancestors, everyone who lit a fire in my brain. i was about to say i don’t know how to thank you for that gift when i realized that i do: by continuing to write & read & ramble & cobble together a sexual ethic in the open. so i will.

i am sending you so much of my pride & joy & love, holy shit, you are so right in articulating the questions you’re asking of yourself & the scripts we’ve been given as courageous because it absolutely is. this shit is so often fucking labor-intensive + lonely + boring & terrifying by turns; it is in many senses deeply inadvisable to choose to go against the norms of not only mainstream society but one’s own subculture! to do so anyway — to want better for yourself & others — is courageous, & i’m so honored to in some way journey alongside you 💖💖

[littleplantfreak]

i already mentioned to you in discord how umemiya has learned to notice all of your little gestures of affection because he knows you’re still growing accustomed to it. but something he notices is that you haven’t yet called him any sort of petname. him calling you cheesy, romantic, and sometimes ridiculous terms of endearment are second nature to him, so it took him a little bit to notice that you didn’t really reciprocate. and he accepted it, believing that this just isn’t your cup of tea. but sometimes, he still craved that little verbal confirmation that he’s yours.

and he gets it one night when you’re straddling his lap, soft lips pressing ticklish kisses along his jaw and clothed cunt nestled right up against the bulge in his pants that seems to twitch every time he feels you shift your weight. in the process of becoming more in-tune with you and adapting to notice all of the small things, it seems as though everything you do elicits a heightened response from him. suddenly, he’s glaringly aware of everything you do—the warm puff of air you expel that ghosts over his collarbones when you chuckle at his whines, the careful dance of your fingers as you work him up JUST enough, the way you look down at him as if you’ll eat him alive. and he’d let you. he’d let you do whatever you wanted.

he is letting you do what you want. that’s why he’s under you, his will to please you wrestling with the primal need to take you and plunge himself so deeply inside you that you swear you can feel him in your throat. it’s why his hands are curled into fists at his sides and he’s fighting to stay completely still while you handle him as you please. if he weren’t so enamored with you, it’d be almost embarrassing how you’ve reduced him to the state he’s in—flushed cheeks, pupils blown into the prettiest hearts you’ve ever seen, kiss-swollen lips ajar and chasing yours whenever you teasingly pull away. and you haven’t even taken his cock out of his pants yet.

it catches him off guard when you tilt your head, a small smile set in place, and murmur “look at you. my perfect boy.” he’s so lost in your gaze that he almost misses it. but it jolts his brain, and his eyes widen. it’s exactly what he’s been waiting for. he’s yours. and when his body abruptly locks up, hips twitching against yours, a new wetness seeping through his pants, you didn’t realize that this is what you’d been waiting for. he didn’t mean to, but you don’t care, instead marveling at the sheer amount of cum staining the rough fabric under you. his orgasm was sudden and dizzying, the reason behind it even more so, but you’re quick to steady him with a searing kiss.

just hyperaware umemiya who cums prematurely when you call him a term of endearment for the first time :)

i really can never top you when it comes to smut you heathen

[westofessos]

For the amount that I talk about wrestling on here I don’t think I’ve ever actually said how I got so obsessed with it in the first place. So here’s that story:

So, it’s mid to late spring. For the first time in years, my dad has been watching wrestling. He quit watching WWE years ago, and never really liked that as much as he liked WCW before it went out of business anyway. He was sad about it, though, because he’s loved wrestling since he was a kid, and now there was no alternative. But now, in 2023, he was watching AEW, a company I had never heard of. And he was loving it.

At the same time, I was rewatching (and finishing for the first time) a show I started watching while it was coming out, but quit when it got a little too ridiculous for me: Once Upon A Time. But I was determined to finish it this time, because no matter how absolutely bonkers and ridiculous it was, I loved it. Still do.

So, there we both were, spending the spring and summer watching stuff nobody else would watch. And we had no one to talk about it with.

The first time we brought up each watching the other’s thing, we both thought it was a joke. I never in a million years thought he would watch OUAT, and he never thought I would watch wrestling. I had watched it with him when I was a kid, and played some of the wrestling games on the Wii, and watched the various Scooby-Doo crossovers, and listened to him talk about it for years, but he never thought it would happen. Both of us, however, were completely serious.

Cut to 55 days ago (yes, it has only been 55 days. It honestly feels like a lifetime though, because when I get truly obsessed with something, I go all in, learning everything about it and watching everything about it I can get my hands on, so it feels like I’ve been watching for years), I sit down with my dad to watch my first AEW show. It was a Collision. I know this because the first face I saw was Juice Robinson, cutting one of his pre-show promos, and that isn’t something you forget. I also watched a Dynamite that day, and my dad watched the pilot of OUAT.

In those first episodes, I saw some familiar faces, and heard about some other ones being there. I liked not starting from scratch. I knew who some of them were! I knew Chris Jericho (my dad’s all-time favourite wrestler), I knew Sting, I knew Dustin Rhodes (though only as Goldust), I knew Saraya (though only as Paige), etc. (there are many more but those are just off the top of my head).On that first episode of Collision (I don’t remember the exact moment or reason why), I saw another wrestler I knew, but one I never quite got acquainted with when I was a kid. I saw CM Punk for the first time.

And something in my brain in that moment just went ‘yep. Him. That’s the one. That’s your guy. If you’re going to have a guy, it’s going to be him.’ Yes, it was partially because I saw him and was extremely attracted to him. He’s a gorgeous man, what can I say? But then I heard him on the mic, and watched him in the ring, and I was hooked.

(Side tangent: this was on a Friday. The next day, Saturday, Collision was in my city and my mom had won four tickets on the radio [nothing ever comes to my city so this was exciting for everyone]. My dad was going with my brother because at this point, I didn’t care. I had plans on Saturday night. The same plans I have every single Saturday night, and very well could have skipped one time. But I didn’t, because even though at this point, after only one Collision and one Dynamite, I was on the verge of being hooked, I didn’t want to let my dad know it. I never would’ve heard the end of it [my parents are real dicks whenever I get emotionally attached to anything, and since they’ve found out about the wrestling obsession it’s been no different, as I knew it would be]. Well, that Saturday, in my city, CM Punk wrestled Samoa Joe for the third time and won. I will never, ever, forgive myself for missing it. Especially after I learned about their history.)

So I had a favourite. I loved (and still love) CM Punk. And after I learned of his support for the LGBTQ+ community and abortion rights, his love for comic books, and other stuff, I only loved him more (whether or not he’s a dick behind the scenes remains to be seen. From the stories I’ve heard, I’m inclined to say no, but who knows. We don’t know these people. He very well might be). But, it was only when the MJF/Adam Cole storyline kicked off that I truly got emotionally invested in the whole thing. Now, I have a whole list of favourite wrestlers and storylines, and very hard opinions on things. And, I’ve gone back to the beginning of AEW in 2019 and am watching every episode up until the one I started on (I just hit 2022 tonight!). Plus, I just watched my first PPV on Sunday, where I got to see both my favourite wrestler and the two that got me emotionally invested in wrestling (my 2nd and 5th favourite wrestlers, respectively) wrestle in front of over 80,000 people and make history.

And, no, my dad does not like OUAT. In fact, I think he kind of hates it. But we are having a good time watching it. And, when we finished season 1, he went back to my mom and the first thing he said was “magic’s back!!”, which is pretty fun (though I do kind of resent the fact that while I now have a new lifelong obsession, he just has a show he kind of hates to watch and then forget about).

But honestly, I don’t care. It brought me here, and I wouldn’t change it for anything. I’m so glad I found wrestling, and AEW specifically. It may have only been 55 days, but it already means so much to me.

Also, thank you to all of the people that have followed me because of this! I’ve never gained so many mutuals than when I started talking about wrestling. I appreciate all of you, and I’ve loved talking about wrestling with you, and I look forward to having further deep discussions and complete meltdowns every week.

[liesmyth]

OOOH for the WiP meme!! 🤔📄👻

🤔 Do you have any WIPs where you wish you had chosen a different fandom/character? — Not really! Because what draws me to writing fic is usually the characters and the situations I can put them in, and the fic is built around that.

👻Is there a scene that you find intimidating that you have yet to write? — THE ENDING OF MY TLT BANG. I'm putting it on hold for a while and go back to other stuff in the fandom while my brain cooks :D

📝Share a snippet of an unposted WIP, with or without context.

The HtN Dios Apate-centric AU that has been haunting me for 6 months

The long and the short of it is that Joy decides that Harrowhark should not die. She was always a sucker for a nun, she and John both, and together they bundle up the girl to keep her deficient body safe while her soul fights where they truly need her. Augustine doesn’t know how they’ve strongarmed the girl into agreeing, but he doesn’t mind it—as pitiful as the girl is, it’s far too soon for her to die. Gideon’s dull stone face doesn’t give anything away, but little Ianthe looks all too thrilled even as she’s going to her possible death. Oh, to be young and infatuated.

They leave their bodies behind. They fight for hours, from the banks of the River to the depths of the Barathron, and it’s Augustine who finally wrestles the Beast into hell. Good fucking riddance, he thinks, tired and drained, too fraught with nerves to feel victorious. He’s shaking. That’s one ancient enemy they’ve gotten rid of—one of six in a long myriad, and it cost them three of their number.

In the Mithraeum, John welcomes them eagerly. “Well done,” he says, shifting on his feet, looking restless. His voice is charged in a way Augustine has rarely heard before, but he’s too tired to linger on that thought. They won, nobody died; he needs to sleep. Ianthe, the chit, is bouncing with restless energy, finally feeling like a real Lyctor, and so is Gideon, who has never been happy in his life unless he’s killing something. He catches sight of John reassuring Harrowhark as he leaves. It’s ridiculous how diligently God has been cultivating their little almost-Anastasia, with her broken brain and painted face.

“Oh, it’s fine,” he’s saying, as Augustine stumbles away. “Don’t worry about it.”

He sleeps for two days. On the third day, they all eat together; John has assembled plates of flatbread and meats and steamed vegetables, and Augustine picks at the food half-heartedly. The air is not precisely merry—they are all recovering from the onslaught of the Heralds as well as the fight—but it is comfortable and easygoing; Augustine lets Ianthe pester him for stories of the early days on Korionthos, and even Joy appears relaxed. John, oddly enough, barely talks, but he seems very content to listen, a pensive expression on his face.

The next day, Gideon is gone. This is beyond unusual. John would never—he has never—sent them away on missions so soon after a Beast fight. But when asked about it, John only shrugs. “Oh, nothing too taxing, I promise. He didn’t mind.” That, Augustine believes; Gideon is often in haste to leave and find something else to stick his sword into. “He’ll be back soon.”

“If you say so, Lord.” Joy’s voice conveys perfectly her distaste at Gideon’s eagerness to depart his brother and sisters, as though she didn’t feel the exact same way about all of them.

On the sixth day, John invites them to dinner. Just Augustine and Mercy; he says that the girls are doing their thing, with a gesture that hints at the mystery of young people, and suggest they do dinner and drinks on their own.

“I want to try Cassy’s roast recipe, the one with the cranberries,” he says. “The last time I prepared a whole proper meal… well, must have been before I left for the Erebos. Will you humour me?”

He says it so earnestly. His eyes are terrible. Augustine should not wish to look into them as much as he does.

[doublearmbars]

fic: i got the handshake (under my tongue)

Hey the max has a crush fic is finally here! read either under the cut or here

Maxwell couldn’t help but smile when fate threw him Wheeler Yuta as soon as he got back.

The slap shook him, but it wasn’t a problem. He has 7 years experience fighting him off and on. He responded in kind and the roar of the crowd made his bones rattle. It’s good to be back. He channeled that energy into his attack, dealing out body blows with a kind of glee that he hadn’t felt in a long time. 

He could handle Wheelsie, Wheeler who would roll over for the bigger dog, who used to enter tiny gymnasiums in what could be charitably described as a cheap cybergoth fetish mask. Maxwell could handle that. Nevermind that he hadn’t scouted and he hadn’t wrestled in months. He could talk circles around him without trying.

It was going to be easy. 

Then Philly happened.

It’s not like Maxwell was unaware of Wheeler’s vicious streak, or the fact that it’s been nurtured by sadomasochistic freaks, but he didn’t think it would make that much of a difference. Wheeler would do his little speech, try and fail to win over a hometown crowd, and then Maxwell would swoop in and do what he does best: get cheap boos.

“I don’t care about your money. I don’t care about your clothes. If you won’t fight me in this ring right now, I will leave you in a pool of blood on Broad Street!”

Wheeler’s voice cracked, not like a rookie trying to sound big, but like his voice couldn’t contain his anger. Maxwell felt his eyes widen. That’s… new. Usually an angry Wheeler is an annoyance and not an actual threat. To him at least.

Then he got thrown over a couch and they had to be separated by security. 

And all that brought him here. 

It isn’t until 20 minutes before the fight that he realizes, to his horror, he’s got a crush. 

He kicks his locker hard enough to hurt. The metal dents under the blow. He kicks it again, and again, until it’s crumpled and the door’s barely functional. It does not make him feel better, just emphasizes the hurtling sensation in his gut, like he’s about to fall over. 

This doesn’t happen to him. This can’t happen to him. Not now. Not with him.

Max presses the heels of his palms to his eyes as if he can squeeze this feeling out of his brain. He knows this is futile, that it's already got roots in his skull, that it’s wrapped around his spine and is a part of him now. Has been. 

And it’s Yuta. He’s always been low level attracted to Yuta, the kind he could pass off as recognizing him as a fellow attractive individual. He was square in the jaw and the shoulders, long limbs and warm brown eyes. Athletic, but in a different way to Max. There was a brief period when he bleached his hair, which most people thought was a bad decision but he had the guts to make it. Yuta barged into his hotel room more than once to show him something bloody or ridiculous, often both. 

It’s not the first time he’s fought someone that he has stupid, uncontrollable feelings for. He hopes (in vain) that it will be the last.

He’s shaken out of his head when someone knocks on his dressing room door. Fuck. Put your face back on Maxwell. Shove all the feelings under the rug. Maybe stomp on them for good measure. Just focus on the walk. 

It’s his cue. He walks down the tunnel as his music hits and soaks in mostly boos, but an isolated cheer or two. The walk to the ring is the easy part. He settles in the corner after soaking in anger. 

Yuta’s stalk to the ring is familiar, even if his music isn’t quite. He starts yelling when he gets to the ropes, but Max can’t hear him over the crowd, and won’t let himself look at Yuta’s lips long enough to read them. Max gestures into the ring, inviting him in. 

The crowd starts chanting for Yuta. Of course they do. Max whips his head around anyway, prey-animal eyes as he stays back in his corner. He opens with a taunt, because of course he does, he can’t let the fear overstay its welcome. 

The whole match Max has to try and compartmentalize. Stop thinking and wrestle. Play the crowd. It’s easier when he can find moments to scramble away, to taunt and invoke ire instead of fighting Yuta. Or when he does fight, pretend it’s not Yuta. 

That compartmentalizing carries him through the first half of the match. He relies on the muscle he’s picked up since the last time he fought Yuta, throwing him around, mentally erasing his face, trying to make him nobody. 

The first crack is when Yuta reverses an Irish whip, using Max’s muscle against him. Then when he goes for the pin, Yuta shifts and the count goes in his favor. The second crack is when Yuta traps him in a waistlock, like he’s going to go for a suplex. Max gets to the ropes and he clings to them while trying not to think about the clasp of Yuta’s hands at his waist. 

Four suplexes later he is dizzy and flat on the canvas. Yuta roars in triumph somewhere above him. Max rolls out of reach for the splash and tries to get some air back in him. It shouldn’t be this hard. What is he doing wrong?

The backbreaker over his knee is a desperate move. When Yuta pauses in the air for a moment before impact, Max almost blurts out an apology. There’s a bit of his brain that is shouting itself hoarse telling him to get mean. 

He listens to his brain. It’s a huge mistake. 

Yuta’s reaction to the slap is immediate. Him, there on his knees, radiating fire, makes Max feel so small, like he’s the one kneeling. When Yuta rises, striking fast, Max panics. 

The sunset flip transforms into a sequence that feels like it goes on forever. The whole sequence it’s as if Yuta is in his head, as they go counter for counter, curling into each other infinitely, like turning and turning until they both go for clotheslines and hit them. 

Max’s concentration shatters. He’s laying there with an ache in his throat from the lariat. He wheezes. His head’s pounding and the count is going. And he staggers to his feet like he’s dying. 

The rest of the match passes in a blur. His muscles are screaming at him, and Yuta is so close and so warm and he knows Max. The fingers digging at his eye sockets, the teeth in his scalp, the nails scraping over his back, Max knows them. Distantly wishes he could know them better. The body beneath his back breathes heavily, squirming and fighting against the wrenching stretch. The loud resonance of canvas being slapped. 

He won. He can breathe now. 

_____________

Hands on his shoulders, wrenching him off the ropes. Yuta points to the crowd cheering for both of them, out of breath, and stretches out his hand. 

“You hear that?” 

Yuta’s breathing hard, his stomach fluttering, sweaty. There’ve been glimpses of this before. But he hasn’t been hit by the full brightness of it. Especially not after a match. The stupid, infatuated part of Max’s brain thinks he looks radiant. 

For a moment the crowd noise falls away and all he hears is Yuta. Like all the other things have emptied from his head. There is no title match awaiting him. There is nothing but him and Yuta and the space between their hands.

“You won, be a man and shake my hand now, okay?” 

Max has to step away, the flip-flop of his stomach, the sudden spin-up of his brain running all the angles, thinking about all the possibilities. 

They’ve been here before. 

Before. Max reaches out his hand to shake before a match, mouth full of a lie about sportsmanship. His intent to gain the upper hand is obvious, whether through a slap or a low blow, but sometimes it’s not even because he wants an advantage; it’s simple disrespect. Yuta doesn’t fall for it again. He catches Max’s foot when he goes for the low blow, or pushes him away by the shoulder. 

Yuta is offering him a hand. A genuine handshake, after he’s won. He wants to. He really does. Tries to smother the urge but it is undeniable. This could be the start of something. Briefly he imagines what it would be like to shake Yuta’s hand. To share that with him. In the back of his mind he wonders how Yuta kisses. If he’d cradle the back of Max’s head the way he likes on the first try.

Then Lee comes barreling across the ring. The noise is deafening again. Everything happens so fast Max can’t even think. His instinctual reaction pushes through, shoving Lee away, yelling orders. He turns and there’s Stokely, offering him a weapon. 

He considers. He replays the match and every match they’ve had before. 

Better to ruin it than to let himself hope. Max has always been great at ruining things. 

He takes the ring.

[the-firebird69]

Bret Hart’s WCW salary doesn’t work for Hulk Hogan in viral clip

Source: Cageside Seats

https://search.app/N3rR

So our son says oh yeah that's perfectly normal it turned into demons and there's no real reason that you can identify that's normal too and I got sad and I said where are we then so you're harassing me you're dead man and women I don't want to hear from you fruit cake f****** s**** sitting here threatening and threatening me I told you to stop now you're enemies and I'm going to do with you what I want and I don't give a f*** for you. And they said we're in trouble with you no s*** how'd you figure it out now they're sitting there and they started blabbing sort of and the guy at the table said what do you want cuz they're sitting there blabbing so I kind of knows who they are and they said we have superpowers too and we say only if we want you to they got mad and said that's really childish there's a point off that's how it works so they started to fight and I'll tell you what these people are gone they're stupid and they don't care so we're going to take care of them this is the beginning of the end of this idiotic paper shop that just tries to add prices to stuff and they don't really Warehouse much anymore and they just try and say you're under umbrella they really don't they they have a losing steadily so they're going to fire Trump and she's been is going to take over it's not a paper shop they have like half the sales in the upper Midwest and the third of the perimeter and the rest is shut down but they're closing soon because of this and the factories are disbanding in the upper Midwest and whatever is left in the Midwest they're opening factories in the perimeter and stellantis is not wanted by anybody. And it's Sarah and her words stel and Atlantis and she's a moron and he says we should sue them again and we will because it shows it's illegal and it's an incarceration and didn't do anything wrong and for Christ's sake these people need to go to prison now and all of their people we're going to start working here it's a damned outrageous what they've been doing to our son and daughter for a long time we're going to take it out on them now

Thor Freya

One of these idiots is yelling at us and it's Trump and we are going to start having fired from other companies because of it

Hera

What an animal that guy is I'm sure that this is going to make it easier for my people and myself and we will keep using this jackass and it's going to cost you and them everything but they don't think it'll cost anything I mean come on that guy's so stupid

Zues

What strangers I'm starting to hear what you're saying take care of your business or I'll do it and he's real short about it because he doesn't want us to believe all the stuff that goes through our heads and yeah we're being ridiculous but he's still doing it and we just get lost frankly we're so stupid I'm surprised we just don't die cuz our brain still support our body he says don't laugh it's true it happens to a lot of us

Mac Daddy

Olympus

Tonight the radiation is heading to 5.5 at midnight and that's Rad's on the average and then nuclear plants if you're in the rain and uranium mine it would be about a 1.3 RADS and it implies that there are bursts that are higher and that's what it really is what you guys can't figure it out cuz you're not in the mind that much mostly all of yours die when they do it. Couple other things you know this is very high our son is feeling better and you're feeling much worse this is going to be a big number tomorrow morning probably bigger than we anticipate and it's because you're making it worse by driving around over your eyes and stuff opening your eyes at stuff and screaming and yelling doing drugs and really staying up all night and you end up gone and we have seen it and drinking too like nothing's happening. A lot of you are on illegal drugs and think it helps you but don't care and stuff a lot of you are going to die come in a real soon and as a matter of fact in the next 3 weeks most of your higher ups Mac morlock will be gone and the world is counting right we don't like you and Jennifer just being fired from tons of positions tonight all over the world because of his actions and that means his people and they're being pulled out permanently huge numbers of people heard John remillard threatening stand all day long out loud in person on the radio constantly so many times I thought I'd fall over in shock and my wife too was in shock now we are going after them and we are going to take them down for their asinine talk and it's horrible you have no idea what you brought around you and you're going to fall soon speaking of which there is a war here offshore and it's big it's fairly huge and in it we expect about 1.5 billion by tomorrow morning that's a lot there's a lot of infighting here the numbers we gave out are pretty close but they're going to go up and up there's a few other things. People throwing these caution flags on the field and nobody's listening to them and it's these guys telling these guys here to calm down give it a break it doesn't seem to be working much on John Reed Millard and crew and they don't seem to understand it and people are explaining it to them by arresting them and arresting theirs they're not asking too many questions they're calling them in. A few more things they're changing and that's a big one our son and daughter say that can go by and people wouldn't miss would miss it quite often what they're saying is if you do break the law you will probably be arrested it's not chaos but the radiation is going to increase in Hera is saying some things and she says still and we expect the radiation to go up and by Thursday morning it should be about 12 RADS on average in the same measurements in the nuclear plant. That's enough to kill you tons of you mostly a third more will be out by Friday from Monday of the week following this week and the schedule is pushed out and Olympus agrees and also I'm told and from memory as well in 3 days after next Thursday if you're following this coming when it goes up to 12:00 it will be enough to wipe out about 2/3 of you so if you don't leave you're going to be gone that's how high it is on the scale we were using which is around a nuclear plants no it's a scale you guys use for ambient radiation and you're trying to raise it up for some reason it would be about 49 in uranium plant it would be a four and that's what my husband was exposed to for 3 hours and gained 35 lb.

And a few more things he's not a toy he doesn't like you you're complete jerks and can't handle the radiation here already you're going to be nuts and we're going to come in and maintain order and walk you out of here too if you're sick. Huge numbers of people are saying it we don't want to be anyone is threatened my husband and others and they threaten each other and they end up dead and it's happening and it's going to be happening more and more people will be very surprised Wednesday night into Thursday night morning and this week it's going to go to 7:00 next week 12 we're talking about next week when it's just dropping people like flies it'd be very surprised.

This atmosphere is hostile there's too much of it too many mean people keep saying it and saying it we need people in here we see the problem but we have to get going to handle the back side before this front side disappears completely that's what I have to say

Hera

Olympus

[indyhypnosis]

What Shockingly Unlocks Productivity and Business Growth

I sat in my small office, staring at the blank piece of paper before me. Starting a business had always been my dream, but now that I was knee-deep in the process, I found myself grappling with countless challenges and self-doubt.

The lack of a marketing plan and a clear path for scaling my business left me feeling lost and overwhelmed. I had so many ideas swirling in my head, but I had no idea where to start or how to prioritize them.

One of my biggest frustrations was not having a timeline for launching my programs. I had poured my heart into several incredible online programs that would benefit so many people, but I couldn’t decide which one to launch first.

The fear of making the wrong choice paralyzed me, hindering any progress I could make.

Driving traffic to my business and improving conversion were constant concerns as well. I knew that without customers, my business wouldn’t survive. But how could I convince the right audience that my services were worth investing in?

Doubts plagued my mind, making it difficult to take the necessary steps to increase visibility and attract potential clients.

And then there was the issue of confidence. Making social media videos was an effective way to connect with my audience, but the thought of putting myself out there and being judged terrified me.

Would people even want to hear what I had to say? The fear of rejection and ridicule held me back from fully embracing this powerful marketing tool.

As I wrestled with these challenges, another question plagued me: should I hire a marketing team or do it all myself? I knew I needed expertise, but I also had limited funds and wasn’t sure if I could trust someone with such an0 integral part of my business. It was a constant battle between wanting to delegate and feeling the need to control every aspect of my business.

Perhaps the most frustrating challenge of all was my perpetual struggle with procrastination. Despite my dreams and aspirations, I found myself constantly putting off important tasks. The fear of failure and the overwhelming weight of responsibility held me back from taking consistent action.

After reaching out to numerous entrepreneurs, I found that they were struggling with the same issues as me. Thus, I made it my mission to develop techniques specifically designed to uncover and eliminate the blocks that keep entrepreneurs and small business owners from experiencing the progress and financial success they deserve because it’s an awful feeling when you feel stuck.

After many years of feast or famine, triumph and defeat, hope and heartbreak, I finally found what I’d been searching for, and it became known as the  One Belief Away  ™ Method.

Through this method, you can quickly (within 20 minutes) uncover the unconscious blind spots and limiting beliefs that formed in childhood and sabotage your business growth as an adult.

I discovered that my fear of not being good enough and worries about running out of money originated from early experiences that had imprinted deeply within me after going through several traumatic experiences around the age of twelve.

With this newfound awareness, I upgraded those fear-based paradigms (beliefs) using the mental “brain-retraining” One Belief Away™ Experiences.

Then I repositioned how I showed up in the world and online. My true passion lay not just in being a coach who wanted to save the world but in being an educator on a mission to end needless emotional suffering for entrepreneurs who had experienced past trauma like me.

This shift in perspective allowed me to clarify my purpose and connect with a specific audience who would resonate deeply with my message.

With this clarity, I began crafting a marketing plan aligned with my purpose.

I started by launching a program that would significantly impact and improve the lives of those going through the same struggles of growing a business and positively impacting the lives of their ideal customers while making their personal dreams come true.

By focusing on a specific target audience, I could tailor my messaging and outreach efforts, driving more meaningful traffic to my business.

Embracing social media’s power, I also mustered the courage to make videos, sharing my knowledge and insights in a more targeted and meaningful way. I realized that my vulnerability and authenticity would be the key to connecting with others who had similar experiences.

People resonated with my message, and I saw an immediate increase in engagement and conversion rates (which was awesome!)

To address the question of hiring a marketing team or doing it myself, I decided to start small and outsource specific tasks that I didn’t have the expertise or time to handle. Then, I carefully selected individuals who shared my values and vision, creating a team that worked harmoniously with my business goals.

Finally, I confronted my lifelong struggle with procrastination. Equipped with my upgraded beliefs and a renewed sense of purpose, I realized that time was a precious resource I could no longer afford to waste.

I used the One Belief Away Hypnosis tools to ignite my focus and motivation and the  Practice Amplifier strategies I’d learned from the dozens of coaches I’d hired over the years to implement productivity techniques, set clear goals, and hold myself accountable to deadlines.

Each day, I took consistent steps, and as I implemented these changes, I began to witness a mind-blowing 🤯 transformation in my business. The combination of a targeted marketing plan, an engaging social media presence, and a clear mission resonated with my audience.

Traffic to my website increased, and conversion rates soared. Clients started pouring in, eager to work with me and experience the emotional healing I offered.

Not only did my business flourish, but I also found a profound sense of fulfillment in my work. By focusing on a specific niche and addressing my ideal avatar’s unique needs, I was able to make a tangible difference in people’s lives.

Plus, witnessing their transformation and hearing their healing stories fueled my passion for continuing to push the boundaries for what’s possible.

The challenges I once faced became stepping stones for growth and self-discovery. I overcame my fears and self-doubt by uncovering and upgrading my unconscious beliefs. As a result, I learned to trust in my abilities and confidently embrace the entrepreneurship journey.

Although I’m often still shocked that most of my bucket list dreams have happened, what became more gratifying is watching how my OBA Students and Practice Amplifier graduates are transforming the lives of so many people.

Knowing that numerous coaches, consultants, and therapists globally use the One Belief Away™ Method to help countless individuals find solace, healing, and a renewed sense of hope fills my heart with JOY!

If YOU are ready to push past fear, upgrade your paradigms and perspectives, and embrace your true potential so you can embrace the journey of entrepreneurship with newfound confidence, join me this Tuesday and let’s unleash your potential together!

I believe in you! ❤️

🙂 Tim Shurr Founder, OBA Method  Certified OBA Instructor 

[midnightskydancer]

ok SO coming back to this post almost a year later to say THIS HAPPENED TO ME🙈 Went on a date in September and thought she wasn’t interested in me, and we never talked about the date, but and then she transferred to my work location much sooner than I expected and she was so pretty and sweet and encouraging and would beam when she saw me…meanwhile I’m panicking wrestling with my feelings thinking she’s just being a really affectionate friend and I’m the weird one who needs to stop overthinking. “Of course she would never be interested in me, she probably thinks I’m ridiculous and only went on the date because she’s so nice”

We would work together occasionally and I wanted to go hide (and did a lot) because I couldn’t handle trying to act normal around her. Her nickname for me is even Sunshine and she kept using it and my favorite color heart emoji via text even after our date and I’m just going…is this a friend thing? SHE SENT ME A VALENTINE ON VALENTINES DAY AND WAS FLIRTING ALL OF FEBRUARY BUT MY OBLIVIOUS BRAIN WAS JUST AWW WHAT A NICE FRIEND.

So almost exactly six months after our date we finally talk and turns out we’re both idiots who misunderstood and thought the other wasn’t interested. We laughed so hard hearing the other’s side of things wondering how we were so blind. I definitely had that moment of going “oh” realizing another sign that she liked me about every five minutes for a week straight. I get so flustered around her now that I can’t even talk because I’m overwhelmed after realizing all her sweet gestures and feeling so seen and cared for. Btw we’re officially dating now and my self esteem has skyrocketed🏳️‍🌈😊

I don’t know how, but this post predicted my life and I’m completely tickled by it all🤭

We joke about how oblivious reader is now (and how relatable that is) but now I’m thinking about when reader DOES finally realize that Sun and Moon love them romantically and then reader finally noticing all the little ways the boys show their love through the day. Like a continuous thought process of “oh😲🫢🤭” every five minutes. And they can’t even talk about it because they’re so overwhelmed by feeling so very much loved and cared for. 😭 I would SOB

LISTEN.,, listen,,,,,,,, the epiphany they are gonna have when they realize their own feelings and sun and moons feelings???? its a moment they will remember for the rest of their life. theyre gonna be unable to move for like ten minutes as they go thru every sweet gesture and touching moment theyve had with sun and moon like their life is flashing before their eyes. maybe at that point theyll start to have some self esteem????? who knows but im rlly looking forward to this moment sjdfhsdjfsjkd