#ideas are always appreciated

[multifandombitxh]

Holy Ghost

Pairing: Ghost x Reader

Genre: Angst, fluff(?)

Warnings: Mentions of g*nshots, blood, bullet wounds, suggestive themes, adult language

Summary: After escaping the firefight with Graves and the Shadows, Y/N doesn't quite make it out unscathed. Ghost does his best to tend to their wounds as they wait for Soap to join them at the church.

A/N: I told you I'd fuckin do it again. Taking requests for this man, working on some fluff as well :)

18+ MINORS DNI

"Just get here alive," Ghost commanded with his head tilted downward, his voice echoing from your own comms. You were busy patting down a bullet wound- barely grazed, but enough to be trouble. Blood was drawing lazy rivers down your bare arm, pooling at your fingertips and dripping to the floor.

Graves' men had good aim, you could give them that much. But not good enough.

"Soap's still out there," Ghost said to you over his shoulder. You responded with a nod.

"That's good," You replied, wincing as you began removing the soaked fabric from your wound. You'd been applying pressure for what felt like ages and it just wasn't enough. When red bubbled and gushed out of the gash you grunted, biting down on your lower lip and tossing the saturated scrap to the ground. "We need him if we're gonna finish this."

"Still bleeding?" He asked.

"Like a stuck pig," You said with a small laugh, tearing another piece of fabric from your shirt you'd decided had run its course. When it becomes life or death, things like walking around in a tank top are incredibly trivial. Your gear was sitting in a pile in the corner of the tower, some of Ghost's accompanying it.

"That's quite the biohazard," Ghost quipped, eyeing the bloody rag you'd just discarded. "Had your Hep B shots recently, by chance?"

"If you're not gonna help, you could at least shut up," You snapped, rolling your eyes and ripping another chunk of material from your shirt. You folded it into a square as best as you could and hovered over your wound, mentally preparing yourself for the pain. Holding your breath you pressed it against your skin, squeezing your eyes shut and releasing the air in your lungs.

"You're not applying enough pressure," Ghost declared, sounding very sure of himself. You weren't sure when he'd crossed the room to stand beside you, but whenever he did it, he was quiet as a mouse. "Here, I've got ya."

Ghost's gloved hand closed over yours before you could ask what he was doing, his fingers clamping down on your skin and his palm pressing hard into the wound. You had to admit, he was definitely more well equipped to apply pressure to a wound, but it didn't make you feel any less weak.

At the same time, it also hurt more.

"You'll need to share your weights routine with me sometime," You joked, keeping your gaze to the floor below. "I'll never understand how a person can gain that much muscle."

"That's an odd way to dish out a compliment," Ghost replied, a lilt to his voice. "But I'll take it."

Silence fell over the room, the sounds of rain pattering against the stained-glass windows of the church giving the whole place an eerie feel. Feeling yourself grow lightheaded, you pressed your palm to your forehead, groaning softly and blinking several times. A sick feeling settled in your gut, and for a moment you thought you were going to puke all over the floor. Next, sweat broke out over your skin in a sheen, and your eyelids felt heavy just to keep open. You couldn't possibly have lost that much blood, could you?

"Still with me?" Ghost asked.

"Physically, maybe."

"Mentally?"

"Mentally, I'm in Tahiti."

Ghost chuckled at your remark, a sound you'd never heard before. A small smile formed on your face, but then you felt your knees buckle, forcing you to stumble forward in order to catch yourself. He was quick to bring you back upright, the hand that wasn't keeping your blood inside you gripped your waist and hoisted you upwards.

"Can't have that," He sighed, glancing around the room for anywhere to help you sit down, but there was nothing. "Right, I'm gonna help you down, you just follow my lead, yeah?"

"Sure," You nodded, not fully aware of what was happening. Ghost released your bicep and knelt down, hooking his arm under your knees and pulling you up into his arms bridal style. You did your best to hold onto him as he lowered you both to the floor, keeping you in his lap as he went down. If you hadn't been a bit off from the blood loss, you probably would have questioned him about it.

Instead, you welcomed the embrace, leaning into his chest and letting out a soft sigh as you settled in. More blood trickled from your arm and anxiety finally set in. It wasn't stopping, even with Ghost's help. Sensing your tension, he caught your attention by leaning forward to whisper against your forehead.

"It's slowed down a bit," He reassured, reapplying the compress to the inflicted area, using his arm that was keeping you upright. His other arm was lazily draped over your legs, fingers balled into a fist near your bent knees. "This oughta help."

"At least we're in a church," You said dryly, "Quick funeral. Maybe Soap can conduct. You think he knows any bible verses?"

"Don't even joke about it," Ghost warned, his tone firm. "You'll be fine, just sit still."

"Sorry, Lieutenant," You said, dropping the lightheartedness for a moment to properly apologize.

Soap came through on comms again, as if stating his name summoned him. Ghost talked him through how to craft himself some weapons and defenses, and you felt bad that he was out there all on his own with no help at all. Thankfully, Ghost wasn't an amateur, and was able to assist to a small degree.

"Think he'll make it alright?" You asked after he finished his guerilla warfare lesson with Soap.

"He doesn't have a choice," Ghost replied, "He either makes it here in one piece, or he dies."

You shifted uncomfortably in his lap. "You're quite the optimist, sir."

"You can feign ignorance all you want," Ghost grunted, adjusting you to sit more comfortably on his thigh. "Doesn't change the circumstances."

"You have to pull out your Thesaurus for that one?" You asked jokingly, smiling to yourself. "Those are some big words, Lieutenant. You know they don't pay us to be scholars."

"They hardly pay us at all, Y/N."

"And yet, here we are."

A few minutes passed and your upper arm was starting to ache, the wound pulsating under Ghost's unrelenting hold. He hadn't let up for a second, keeping so much pressure on the spot you were sure you'd have bruises where his fingers dug into the skin. Rolling your neck, you softly moaned at the satisfying crack, then let out a small sigh.

"Enjoying yourself?" Ghost asked simply.

"Oh, yeah, I've always fantasized about being trapped in an old, dusty church with my Lieutenant, bleeding to death in his lap while our friends have been kidnapped or hunted down," You said in a monotone voice. "Really gets me goin'."

"Glad I could make it a reality," He scoffed, "Doesn't take much to please you then, does it?"

"I'm a simple creature, sir," You replied.

"I'll keep that in mind."

At long last, he finally released his grip on your arm, leaning forward to eye the damage. The wound had finally stopped gushing, thank the heavens, but was so caked in dried blood that it was hard to make out exactly how bad it was. Clicking his tongue, he turned your arm over in his hand to get a different angle before releasing it altogether.

"Sit tight," He said, gently sliding you off of him and standing. His knees popped as he rose from the floor, but you were too busy surveying your bloody arm to make any jokes about him being a grumpy old man. Just as you suspected, several fingertip sized spots were dotting the space around the gash, red and blue and angry. Smudged blood hid them a bit, but it was clear as day that he'd left several marks.

Ghost rifled through his bag for a bit before pulling something free, turning it over in his hands. He nodded to himself, tossing his bag to the side and returning his attention to you.

"You're not gonna like this," He warned, turning around to reveal a bottle of rubbing alcohol. You shivered at the sight of it, knowing exactly what was coming next. "But I can't have you dying of an infection on me. Shitty way to go."

Cursing the Shadows who did this to you, your nervous eyes found the ceiling as Ghost approached. Your back was pressed flush against the brick wall behind you, and you took several deep breaths. You heard the sound of him unscrewing the cap of the bottle and mentally prepared yourself for the inevitable sting. He sprayed some of it on his own hands, rubbing them together before looking back at you.

"Eyes on me, yeah?" He said, his voice low and soft. You squeezed your eyes shut once before turning your attention to Ghost, who was kneeling in front of you with one hand on your thigh and the other clutching the alcohol. His gaze was intense, but still, you nodded, pulling your lower lip between your teeth.

He didn't warn you before he began pouring the liquid over your arm. Despite your efforts to remain still and silent, your body lurched forward against your will, a strangled, drawn out groan rumbling in your chest. Lightning shot through your whole body as the clear fluid coated your wound, your nerves screaming and tears forming at the corners of your eyes. The burning sensation overpowered everything, and for a moment, your vision went white.

Instinctively, your hand flew up to stop the pain, closing around Ghost's wrist to try and pull the bottle away. Grunting, he pried your hand free and forced it to the side, pressing your hand down into the floor as hard as he could. His hand engulfed your own, covering it with ease as he pinned it down beside you. Wriggling against his hold, you let out a soft, unintentional whine, squeezing your eyes shut tight as another wave of alcohol flooded your wound.

"I know," Ghost reassured, "Focus on me, Y/N."

"It fucking hurts," You croaked, cringing at the weak tone in your voice.

"Amputation and sepsis hurt worse," He replied, eyeing his work for a moment before returning his attention to you.

Considering just how much blood and dust and bacteria had invaded the slice in your arm, Ghost was thorough, squeezing the bottle to control the flow. It felt like years, and you couldn't take it any longer. A strangled cry ripped its way out of your throat, your head falling forward and your chest heaving. Your heart was hammering against your ribs, your limbs locked up and your brain in survival mode.

A loud crash echoed through the church and you both jumped, two voices filtering in from the foyer below. Just as they burst through the front doors, your anguish was just starting to manifest through groans and sobs, but Ghost was quick to shut it down. The hand that had been keeping you still quickly clamped over your mouth, effectively muffling any sound that could come out.

"Shadows," He stated, "You need to relax or they'll find us."

Breathing hard through your nose, you maintained eye contact with your lieutenant, your eyes misting over as the pain finally started to subside. He placed the bottle on the floor nearby, then used his now free hand to grip the back of your neck. With one hand covering your mouth and the other drawing you closer, Ghost stared straight into your soul.

To try and bring yourself back down to Earth, you gripped the front of his shirt, grabbing a fistful of fabric and clinging to it like your life depended on it. Ghost drew in a sharp breath as you latched on, his eyes widening for a moment before narrowing again. It looked as if he was concentrating hard on something, searching your eyes and quickly glancing down at his hand that covered your mouth every few seconds.

The look in his eyes was intense, and the hand on the back of your neck felt foreign, but welcomed. Any closer and your foreheads would have been touching, and for a split moment, you thought about doing just that. It wasn't the first time you felt compelled to show some form of affection toward him, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

Ghost slowly removed his hand from your face, fingers gently sliding over the skin of your cheeks and jaw. Your mouth fell open as you sucked in shaky gulps of air, trying to stay as quiet as humanly possible. Both of you were caught in some sort of trance; the world around you falling away until all that remained was Ghost and his prying eyes.

Not that you minded.

"Keep lookin' at me like that and I'll give you something else to scream about," Ghost whispered, looking shocked at himself as the words left his mouth. You shivered involuntarily, butterflies erupting in your stomach at his words.

In that moment, he was no longer your superior. He was just a man in a mask with dreamy eyes and a velvety smooth voice that sent your heart soaring. It didn't matter that the Shadows were just downstairs, or that your arm was stinging to high hell, or that you were stuck in that stupid church until Soap could find his way to you. All that mattered was Ghost and his tempting words.

"They'd find us," You reasoned, your voice barely above a whisper.

"They'd get a nice view before they die, then."

The Shadows noisily searched the church below, their voices traveling up to the tower. Windows shattered and benches were turned over, echoing throughout the building. It took what felt like centuries, but after a while, they finally gave up on their search and exited the building. It wasn't until the sounds of their boots became distant that either of you moved, but once they were gone, Ghost acted quickly.

As quickly as he could, he all but ripped his mask up enough to reveal his hidden mouth. You didn't have long to memorize what it looked like, because before you knew it, his lips were on yours in a heated kiss. The hand on your neck deepened the kiss as Ghost tilted his head to the side, lips aggressive and harsh against your own. You happily returned the gesture, sighing into his mouth and letting your eyes flutter shut. Your shaking hands reached up to cup both sides of his face, adrenaline coursing through you until your body felt light as a feather.

The moment your hands connected with his skin, he let out a sound you couldn't quite place- some sort of growl mixed deliciously with a moan. Boldness bloomed in your chest at his reaction and you let your hands wander downward on their own, taking note of how tense he became wherever they went. His heaving chest, the center of his ribcage, his hard stomach, his abdomen-

"Careful," He warned slowly, breaking the kiss to mutter in your ear.

"I thought this is what you wanted," You replied, withdrawing your hands.

"You have no fucking clue how badly I want you right now," He hissed, his hands abandoning your neck to grip your waist. "If it were up to me, I'd already have you underneath me on this filthy floor, trust me, love."

"What's stopping you?" You asked, anticipation building in your gut and his words going straight to your lower half.

"I'm not a religious man, Y/N, but the good Lord doesn't need to see what I'm gonna do to you."

"Should I consider this a confessional, sir?" You asked jokingly. "Usually there'd be a wall between us."

"There's something between us, that's for sure," Ghost quipped, his mouth turning up in a small smile.

"Lt?" Soap's voice startled you both, but Ghost was quick to respond, immediately regaining his composure.

"Go ahead, Soap," He said into the box on his chest.

"Hate to ruin such a lovely moment between friends, but if you could at least turn off your comms, the Shadows and I would appreciate it."

Your stomach dropped like a rock and you covered your mouth with your hand, eyes wide. Ghost cleared his throat and held your gaze as he spoke to Soap again.

"Message received," He said in a flat voice. This time, he made sure to flip the microphone switch, then returned his full attention to you.

"I'll wring his neck if he ever mentions it," Ghost declared, the pad of his thumb gently stroking your cheek. "Let's finish cleaning you up, yeah?"

[numbuh424]

Create a Death Note x Taskmaster crossover.

Your time starts now.

[okkennymay]

Ghost King! Danny for @jaxinkh

God I just had so much fun painting this one, my bOI, MY ANGSTY SON

Heavy is the head that wears the crown

[uncanny-tranny]

If somebody in your life offers to knit or crochet or, really, create anything for you, please be an active participant in the creation of the piece they are making. I adore making and gifting things, but nothing bums me out quicker than a person who passively just goes "okay," to my ideas about what I'm making them - it can send the message that they won't like it, or that they don't care, even if they're happy about my offering. The back-and-forth feedback is a great way to make sure that you are being gifted something that was truly worth the time, effort, expertise, and money that will inevitably go into the gift!

I know it's really hard to be an active participant, believe me, I'm an anxious ball of horror, but it will only do good for both parties to interact in this situation. It is a big deal to be offered a hand-crafted gift, but it's also something we want you to love and use, and that can only happen if you tell us what would make you fall in love with what we create.

[neon-ufo]

It's true the world is ugly But everything could change, someday

Song for April: Someday by Cub

~~~ Last month's wobbly little animation made me want to try actually animating again! I also wanted to do something with an old game vibe for the background, so I used photos to get that effect. <:

[youchoseeachother]

12x11

[shortbreadly]

this screenshot has been tugging at my heartstrings since the owl house ended so i had to redraw it

original screenshot

[jojo-schmo]

"We told our friends they were beautiful and recorded their reactions!"

Click the "read more" for the rest of the Waddle Dees' video :)

I misremembered the Waddle Dee camera crew's broadcast as Channel DDD when it's actually Channel PPP. Sorry... blame the anime for planting the wrong name in my head haha :'D

[starppleb]

I need more Danny ‘No more hero’ Phantom, so here I will be reasoning why he’s an Anti-Hero (in Dp x Dc prompt)

Danny doesn't see Death as the worst thing. He's too familiar with it (He is Death).

Sometimes it's better than 'living'. It's like a 'new beginning', a chance to let go like he tried to he did.

He left hero things with everything in his hometown. Where no matter what, he's been The Villain, The ghost, the menace. 

People Humans only see in him what he did while being mind-controlled or forced to. Not that he saves them every day. They are afraid of him, of his power. 

Just how are people still like Superman and other heroes who are more powerful than regular humans? They get mind-controlled and forced to be evil sometimes too.

That isn't fair. 

And while They chose to save other people's asses because they wanted to, Danny didn't have a choice, if he didn't step in, the town would be destroyed in days. 

He hoped that his parents Fentons would finally realize why ghosts were coming into town, but they just blamed Ghost Boy for all of the wrongdoings and never considered they were wrong. 

So after 2 and a half years of hope, he burned out and just destroyed the portal, cleared out all of the ectoplasm, and left.

Now if ghosts wanted to 'visit' living they needed to go to Danny and personally ask.

This means no more Technus 'I will take over the world' and Emder 'I will make everyone love my music by mind-control', and just Technus 'I'll only check new tech stuff' and Ember 'I'll hang out with Kitty in the park and play some guitar', of course in more human form.

Danny himself decided to stick around Gotham because one - Bats are interesting, and two - ectoplasm (which he tries to clear out, at least a little bit). 

So now he messes with Bats and humans while he's Anti-Hero - Phantom.

And gets yelled at by people at Batburger while he's a regular worker - Danny Nightingale. 

But what will the Justice League do when Phantom will save the world from some big bad ghost with impressive ease, and just leave…

That powerful being is not just some generic troublemaker in the streets of Gotham.

He's the end and sawing of the world (and Infinite Realms). 

[pnfc]

i haint watched the dang chibisode and idk if ill actually watch it with sound on sdfjk but i have a hurt feeling about them casually imbuing perry with speech for a one off gag because the idea that he needs to talk to communicate is fake. we had 4 seasons of wacky magic hijinks cartoon where perry never needed verbal speech to communicate. they couldve done this gag at any point in the show but they didn't, and the fact that they didn't felt significant. perry's muteness is such a core part of his character, to me, to the way i conceive of him/write him. i don't wanna overreact to a goofy little side cartoon (even tho i'm doing it anyway) but it's still the characters, and it still upsets me! ok that's it i've said my piece

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

MC: There's no way he likes me back.

Charles: Dazai would throw himself in front of a moving car for you.

MC: Dazai would throw himself in front of a moving car for fun.

[marmastry]

do you have any tips for an artist that wants to draw comics?

I honestly still dont see myself as a comic artist, anon, but what i do know is that the hardest part is starting one.

When you're new to it, you gotta learn how to make it easier for yourself because if you're aim is to make a fully colored 20+ pages comic, you will burn yourself out before you finish a single page.

Dont put too much expectations on yourself. Let it be your aim to finish it rather than perfect it. Once you finish it, don't dwell too much into it. Don't let engagements be the measure of its value. The best part of finishing something is looking back on them and learning what you can do better next time.

When you're new, you're also building your stamina in the process and when you understand how much you can do in a certain time, you will learn how to pace yourself better. For ex. In my earlier comics, like my abandoned zelda AU, i didn't really put much thought in the specs and dimension of my comics. I didnt even draw it well lol. I limit working on every entry under 2 to 4 days and that includes the writing. I spent less time on it and it shows! Compare that to my splatoon comics, they're more organized and put together in comparison. This is because I saw what I can do before, I learned what I can do better and it made me put more time into them. I don't really wanna rush myself as much as possible because i dont really earn from this rn lol but most of my entries lately takes 1 month to draw with drafts Ive written 3 months earlier. I work very slow but more robust than before because of all the stamina I accumulated with other finished work :)

I hope this helps at least haha

[hogans-heroes]

Guess Austin is just beautiful no matter what

From AppleTV’s IG

[batsplat]

Oh im obses whit your blog like you are such a great historian on vale and love the way you analys stuff admire the way of writing all of your toughs in such a corent way 🩷🩷🐹

this is so nice, thank you!! okay so this ask was initially sent in response to this post about how marc knew what a dick valentino was to his rivals and appreciated/wished to emulate that side of him, in particular in the context of copying the jerez pass. and... well, there is one more follow-up post to that I did want to make. it didn't really work within that post because it's pretty speculative, but I think it's fun! here goes

so you know argentina 2018, right, big drama, reconciliation over, bla bla (I promise this is going in a more fun direction, stick with me here). there's a bit of marc's post-race media scrum that I am a wee bit obsessed with. or well, two specific lines, one in english (0:00) and one in spanish (1:02) - I've included the full responses for context, but in this post I'm really only interested in those two lines

in english:

But he was in the past also 25 years old, and will remember, everybody.

and in spanish:

He has also been 25 years old and, well, I hope that people also remember.

... 25 years old, did you say?

okay, look, fair warning. the rest of this post is going to be reading too much into what was probably an off-handed comment - even if, I'd just like to point out, it is something he felt the need to say twice. but let's just have some fun here, and read too much into it. as a treat

so obviously the most generic way to read this is him saying 'well valentino used to be really aggressive on-track too, so people shouldn't be criticising me more than they did him'. thing is, I wouldn't say there was that much of a noticeable decline in how aggressive valentino was being, and 2017 did still feature some major scraps where valentino very much got his elbows out (cf assen and phillip island, I included a bit more detail on this in the marc race rec post). sure, valentino did increasingly have his reservations about some of the behaviour of younger riders, so maybe he was less aggressive now relative to the field... but I just don't feel like that's quite what this line is implying. it's also not about valentino making 'mistakes' in general, because there would have been no reason to refer back to past-valentino in that regard... the 25 year old version of valentino was considerably more error-free than the 39 year old

so then, my theory is that it's about valentino's controversies! that's what people "will remember", right - it's not the general style of riding, not just innocent mistakes, it's the times when valentino caused a bit of a stir on and off the race track. now, again, you could go the generic route here and say 'ah well maybe marc is just thinking of all the mess valentino got himself involved in when he was younger, from getting into a fist fight with max biaggi at age 22 to pissing off casey stoner through his aggressive riding at laguna at age 29'. but let's say for a moment that marc was thinking a bit more specifically than that... after all, if we're just talking about valentino controversies in general, surely marc should be able to think of a rather more recent example where valentino, like marc at argentina 2018, caused another rider to crash and was subsequently penalised for his riding? of course, marc probably didn't want to bring up that particular controversy - but it's still interesting he feels the need to refer back to a younger version of valentino at all, the fact that this crossed his mind in the first place to make him bring it up unprompted while making his case. so maybe when marc, who is after all a known valentino rossi fan, refers twice to what valentino was like at "25 years old"... he is in fact thinking of what valentino was like when he was 25 years old. and in what year would that be? well, here's the thing. it would be 2004

readers of the sete post can probably guess where I'm going with this, but let's just take a moment to review what specific on-track incidents marc could be thinking of here. let's give him a little bit of extra leeway in terms of the age, even though I trust marc to be more on top of the exact age gap than valentino was in times past. let's throw in one year either way, so 2003 to 2005, and draw up a list of any particularly controversial races valentino was involved in. here's what I've got:

assen 2004 - valentino executed a hard overtake for the win on the last lap on sete gibernau. he's not in complete control and almost loses the front at the next corner, which would have taken them both out

qatar 2004 - after his team rubber up his grid slot the night before, valentino gets slapped with a back-of-the-grid penalty. he ends up crashing out of the race and burns his relationship with sete in the aftermath

jerez 2005 - at a time when their relationship is already very chilly, valentino and sete engage in another duel. valentino executes a block pass with contact at the final corner and is booed by the crowd

motegi 2005 - the first chance to seal that year's title, and one valentino would very much have liked to take to spite honda. an unwise overtaking attempt on melandri leaves both on the ground

so, my guess is that neither assen nor motegi were really big enough controversies to fit the bill, though maybe they stuck in marc's mind as instances of 'reckless riding' that he includes in a more generic internal understanding of young valentino rossi. we do of course know for a fact that marc was more than aware of what happened at jerez 2005, not least because he, you know, directly copied that move twelve years later (again, link to the relevant post). like marc in argentina 2018, valentino barged into a rival in rather controversial fashion, and obviously it also made the relationship between him and said rival deteriorate still further. sure, you can't really argue the move was 'as bad' as argentina 2018, but as far as I'm concerned it has the same general vibe

you know what else has the same general vibe? here's a race description for you:

a 25 year old rider is sent to the back of the grid for a reason they consider unfair

they proceed to deliver a phenomenal performance even by their lofty standards, quickly working their way up to a position that seemed unattainable to them

they barge a rival out of the way in their impatience, reaching back to apologise for the move

the race ends poorly for them and they fail to score any points

afterwards, their relationship with a rival is ruined as a result of the events of the race, and the whole thing remains a lingering controversy for years to come

one race that fits this description is, of course, argentina 2018. the other is qatar 2004. there's obviously plenty of details that are significantly different - valentino's move on barros is less egregious and far less controversial, and his race ends in the gravel rather than with a post-race time penalty. still, that start of valentino's? the impatience? the post-race fury? the repercussions this race had? come on, look at the race footage I included in the qatar post and tell me there's not a little bit of a shadow of that qatar fury to the argentina recklessness

this is a point I snuck into the marc race recs post, where I included this excerpt from a post-argentina 2018 write-up:

phillip island 2003, hm? as it happens, in the qatar post, I did include a bit of the autobiography that compares those two specific races:

so, phillip island 2003: a performance that made everyone wonder just how much valentino had left in reserve to draw on whenever he needed it. what valentino is saying here is that this performance wasn't a result of him holding back in all the other races that year - this was speed that was accessible to him only in that moment because he was so angry. so yes, maybe it's a valid question to wonder what would have happened at phillip island 2003 if it hadn't just been the ghost of his bike that had to pick its way through the stragglers. then again, valentino says it's not just rage that does the trick for him - it's controlled rage... which is all well and good, except when you lose control

and see also:

that's what argentina 2018 is all about, isn't it? it's a performance that's rooted in impatience, in restlessness, in frustration - where marc tuns his "rage into pure speed", as valentino would put it, in a hubristic dismissal of the rest of the field. ideally, the two of them channel those emotions to spur themselves on to special, signature performances... but sometimes, it gets the better of them. it got the better of marc that day in argentina and cost him the tentative peace with valentino. at qatar, it could have cost valentino the title

(also shades of this in jerez 2020 - an error sets the stage for some extraordinary pace before it all goes wrong) (catalunya 2003 is a fun more compact nephew to that race without the unhappy ending)

now, look, am I saying that marc was really referring back to qatar 2004 specifically, a race that had happened fourteen years earlier, when making an off-hand remark in a post-race media scrum as he tried to do some damage control in the wake of one of the most controversial races of his career? well, no. he could have been! but it's unlikely. maybe he's shit at maths and was actually thinking about laguna 2008 after all. still, I would like to once again point out that he felt the need to mention valentino's behaviour at age twenty five not once but twice. he's telling us that he wants people to remember what valentino was like at that age, and in the most literal sense I am doing what he's asking for. surely it's worth at least noting that there just happens to be a race where valentino was at that exact age and his temper overcame his rationality, leading to him making a costly error... surely it's worth acknowledging this...

even if marc wasn't actually obliquely referring back to that race or indeed any of the races I mentioned above, of course the parallels between valentino's foibles and marc's are in any case interesting. it speaks to how they get those special performances out of themselves, the similarities in how they operate in that regard... but of course also in how they both sometimes stray rather close to the limit, how they repeatedly flirt with crossing the line. a stubbornness and a hubris and a rage that can sometimes lead to disaster for the both of them. and another thing - who knows if marc was thinking about qatar 2004, but he must have been thinking about something. that's the point of that jerez post, right... marc is valentino's successor in so many ways, he has fashioned himself in valentino's image - and he keenly grasps and remains aware of all the different aspects of that legacy. he's the most accomplished of valentino's students and he felt strongly that what he did in that race in argentina was in some way comparable to what valentino himself had been doing at his age, part of the same tradition even. yes, to some extent marc is obviously accusing valentino of hypocrisy here: how can you judge me when you were once young and foolish too? his tone isn't exactly filled with remorse either, is it, he's pretty feisty in that media scrum! still, there's something more to it... something almost poetic to the whole thing, wouldn't you say? valentino had just accused marc of ruining the sport - and in response marc wants people to remember that they are just the same

[saints-who-never-existed]

Y'know what, another shout-out to Henry Fuckin' Collins is required.

Even after the Orren-related unpleasantness and even as he's preparing for such an incredibly dangerous task, he's still firm, authoritative, and confident in instructing those around him on what to do throughout.

I don't know, I just think that's very brave and sexy of him...

[adhd-languages]

I often wonder how English distinguishing between “sentient pronouns” (he/she/they) and “inanimate pronouns” (it/its) affects our perception of the world.

I wonder if languages without this distinction foster more care towards the environment.

Animals and plants are usually referred to as “it”. Would we care for them more if we thought of them as sentient?