#this is your fault jorge

[reya-eats-art]

If you're new hereeee,,,,, welcome to the fridge!

Anyways,

Listened to EPIC while drawing this for the whole 3hrs,,,, hm.. i have come to the realization that maybe this is what EPIC does to people...

[psychicbluebirdmiracle]

Considering the fact clock ticking noises freak me slam out love in paradise is amazing at giving me a heart attack

[bendita9-6]

Epic What ifs

Okay so I posted this on my YouTube, but I came up with the weirdest idea, Epic the Thunder Saga, but instead of “Mutiny” Odysseus, Eurylochus and the rest of the crew sing a parody of “Your Fault” from Stephen Sondheim’s Into the Woods, which ultimately ends with everyone agreeing that the one person to blame for everything that has happened is Paris of Troy. He’s responsible he’s the one to blame it’s his fault!

[popcornzippy]

I know that nobody watches motogp but fuck Jorge Martín for not even bothering to check on the rider he crashed out before bawling about losing a championship due to his own hubris

[a-dargon]

WHY DOES THE MUSICAL ABOUT THE ANCIENT GREEK TRAGIC EPIC HAVE TO BE TRAGIC DAMN IT

[herstarburststories]

The Cage (Joe Goldberg x Reader)

Pairing: Joe Goldberg x reader

Summary: Joe puts you in the cage after you've seen him in an incriminating situation. He comes back to check on you, and ends up facing a pleasurable situation: you, masturbating in the cage.

Warnings: masturbation, kidnapping, sexual thoughts, smut, unhealthy behavior. It's YOU, ya know what to expect.

A/N: My 1st YOU story! It had to be messed up smut. No specific season here.Please reblog and comment. Hope you guys like it!

You used to have a bird when you were younger.

A parrot. His bright colors seemed to speak under the sunlight when he landed next to you. His wing looked funny, what was later discovered to be broken. That small detail was the perfect excuse to convince you dad to keep the bird.

You named Jorge and took him home.

Jorge was so little, so helpless.

You never put him in a cage, even when your dad brought one because housebirds are meant to be caged, or so he said. — which wasn't much of a surprised. He thought the same about your mom or any housewives. Their cage was just different.

But, you didn't let him get his way. You stomped your feet and threw the prison away. Birds were supposed to be free.

Plus, you related to Jorge in that sense. Everyone, the whole planet seemed to believe that women should be put in cages, in boxes, in any place that could contain them, patronize them. Because the patriarchal cry babies thought that they were too savage, too emotional. A danger to society.

Those people never seem to notice that every single disaster was orchestrated by men's hands.

Colonization, religious intolerance, wars, pseudo prophets, and so it goes.

Anyway, you didn't let the tiny bird get caged, and asked him to promise to take you and fly you away if someone ever tried to do that to you.

It may seem childish, irrational even, but you can't help looking around and hoping Jorge would appear and save you from the cage.

Joe's cage.

Alright, yes. You had many feminist criticism towards how men attempted to force women into fitting their irralistic, many times porn guided caged vision of feminiality. But this wasn't what you mean by that!

Joe Goldberg had a fucking cage! And you were in there: trapped like a hopeless animal.

What did he plan to do with you? Were you going to die? How long would he leave you there without food or water? How were you going to do your basic needs? How would you survive this?

''How did I end up here?" you asked your reflection on the glass. ''You know how, idiot.''

You groaned, hitting the wall in frustration. It wasn't your fault, you knew it. The old cliché, wrong person at the wrong place during the wrong time, all the wrongs in the world wrapped in a pretty lace. Although, the guilty for not knowing better held you tight, it was like you couldn't even breathe.

You needed some relief.

Joe's POV

He sighed, unlocking the door with his free hand whilst holding your meal with the other one. Joe closed his eyes as the door opened with a loud noise, preparing himself to hear your scream and shout. He didn't want to do that! Not to you at least. Joe just wanted to take care of you, to make you see him how he saw you: entirely.

But really, what else could he have done? You saw him with blood on his shirt and a huge bag.

When the man didn't hear your voice, he opened her eyes and arched his eyebrows.

Maybe you understood why I had to do this, Y/N. Always knew you were different, my love.

Joe locked the door again and kept the keys in his pocket, taking the stairs to meet you.

Or, I could be wrong and you could've managed to get out of the cage and be just there, waiting to attack me. You're smart, I wouldn't put it past you.

The closer he gets, the quiet it sounds. The only music is the own stairs crackling under his steps.

But, you know me, Y/N. I'm a true hopeless romantic. What can I say? I still believe. I believe in us. And you'll too, baby.

And then, just like the first flicker of dawn, he heard the most beautiful song coming out of your mouth, a melody that could put Beethoven to shame.

Wait. Are you? Y/N, are you moaning?

He walked faster towards you until he saw a blissful scene unrolling right in front of his eyes: you, laying in the mattress that he put in there, your eyes shut and legs spread open.

Is this a little show you are putting out for me? Well, you got all my attention now, Y/N.

He placed the food on the floor, captivated by the look on your face. There was pleasure in every corner of the cage, your whiny moans increasing as you rubbed your clit.

This what happens when I leave you alone, Y/N?

Your other hands is also occupied, teasing your nipple and squeezing your boob as a finger enters your wet pussy. So needy, pace increasing at each second.

Fuck. You look so hot. I want to get in there, take care of you, touch you, make love to you.

Already used to living in delusion, Joe easily loses his mind in the fantasy: picturing himself in there with you, memorizing your body, fucking you open, hearing your moans directed to him, coming inside you.

You just needed a way to ease your racing mind. There were too many questions, too many deep high fears. Everything was too much in this small place. Similar to animals in cages that go crazy in attempts to get out there and run back to nature. You didn't want to go this far, not to touch you in here as it's a sort of motel and not a hostage situation. Still, masturbation was very proficient to blow off some esteem and get you thinking straight.

Extreme situations call for extrame measures.

Nonethless, you didn't expect to open your eyes to see Joe, also masturbating in front of you.

There's no denying that you that you used to find Joe attractive. Tall, strong jaw, pretty smile, gentle, and dark hair. You thought that this perspective had gone away once he knocked you out with some drug in napkin and you woke up here.

Apparently, it didn't. Not even when he left you there during hours because now he came back.

And he's glancing at you, his hand moving up and down on his erected length.

How long was he there?

Doesn't matter.

A moan escapes at the sight. His hard cock with precum on the tip, while he thrusts in his tight hold and glares at you like he could eat your soul.

You don't doubt that.

There's more than just excitement, there's horror and danger and woe and fear and anxiety laced together in burning red. You want to scream at him in both anger and need, but right now you add another finger to your core, fucking yourself as he tries to get his own liberation. Yearning, yearning.

When Joe howls your name, you can't help but to cum as you glance into his eyes with no shame, too caught up to do anything but to get turned on.

He comes right after you.

His twisted mind whispers that's the most romantic act.

[theceaselessidiot]

It basically boils down to this:

Just a heads up,

If the lionesses win tomorrow, it puts the women’s game on a stage it’s never been on before.

If Spain wins, it puts us 10 years behind and sets a precedent that it’s okay to be an abusive coach in the women’s game and that women’s safety, security, working conditions and mental health do not matter.

And before people start saying I’m anti Spain, just know that supporting England when I bleed Blaugrana is the worst thing for me to do and the hardest choice because the girls of Spain deserve better.

[spellbound037]

Who wants a rant on why Eurylochus (in Epic) did nothing wrong? No one? TOO DAMN BAD!

SO! 1.) The wind bag. See, Odysseus did NOT, in fact, tell them what was in the bag. In the Odyssey, Odysseus tells no one what the wind bag is. In Epic, he tells Elpenor and Perimedes. None of that would matter, though, because Odysseus is also a well known liar. If the guy who lies constantly, including at points where there is literally no reason to lie, tells you the bag which is almost certainly full of treasure is actually full of air, that bag is full of treasure.

2.) Circe's island (with relation to his reaction to Scylla) Suggesting they leave the 14(?) men who Circe had taken is not the same as outright sacrificing six men. Circe is an extremely powerful spellcaster, much more powerful than anyone Ithaca had to offer. That meant that, if they got the men back, they would very likely still be pigs. Only Circe and a handful of other extremely powerful spellcasters could turn them back into men. meaning that they wouldn't actually be saving the men at all, they would be acquiring pigs. These pigs would be pigs until they died. It would be much better to simply leave the pigs with Circe and her nymphs, knowing they'd be taken care of, than to bring them on a perilous journey by ship when they knew they were being hunted by Poseidon.

3.) The mutiny. Valid crash-out, outright. Jorge has said that Eurylochus acts as the voice of the crew, and the crew has just lost six members. They're tired, they're angry, and the main things they probably remember right then are Scylla and Polyphemus. Whether or not any of this is Odysseus' fault, they (very fairly) blame him. If your boss is willing to fire you to get home a little earlier, report him to HR. If your captain is willing to kill you to get home, mutiny.

4.) The cows. By this point, the crew haven't eaten in days. This is inevitably leading to a Donner Party style situation, and looky here, there are a bunch of cows. And look again, LYING MOTHERFUCKIN ODYSSEUS says that you CAN'T eat these cows! Why? He won't say! (he doesn't in the song. He does in the myth, I think, but again, LYING Odysseus.) Hunger rewires your brain chemistry to do things that are utterly illogical for food. The other important thing to remember is that Eurylochus quite likely does not believe they're going to survive at all. They can't, actually. If they leave the island and the cows, they'll likely starve to death. As a demigod of sorts, Odysseus will take a somewhat longer time to starve to death, but the rest of the crew will very likely be dead in a week. If starvation doesn't take them, Poseidon is still trying to kill them! If Poseidon doesn't kill them, these men are still aging. If it takes them another year, even another six months to get home, they're not young men. More of them will die on the journey. They can't fight or run like they could 12 years ago, any danger they encounter will kill more of them. Dying here, with full stomachs on nice grass, very likely seems like the best option to the starved minds of the crew.

5.) The final, all encompassing, important point. Odysseus is familiar with the gods. His great-grandfathers are Hermes and Zeus, he was trained by Athena. This means that he likely has a much more grounded, personified idea of the gods. Eurylochus, and by extension, the rest of the crew, do not. Poseidon's wrath is not something to be avoided, it's the unquestionable end. Circe's curse isn't something to be undone, it's permanent. Helios' grief isn't something to be a little wary of, it's the very welcome grand finale to their journey. It will leave them as a tragedy, but it will end them, finally.

[a-bottle-of-tyelenol]

I love reading Eurylochus analysis but I don’t see people mentioning the beginning of Puppeteer all that often.

Eurylochus starts that song by immediately trying to tell Odysseus about what he did. Immediately. I know we like to characterize Eurylochus as cowardly (mostly because that’s how Jorge describes him and how he’s described in the Odyssey), but I think it says a lot that Eurylochus didn’t try to hide or pretend as if this hadn’t been his fault. He didn’t wait for Odysseus to confront him about it or try to avoid taking responsibility. It’s rather brave imo that he tried to say something and only didn’t because his captain ordered him not to.

I think a lot about the timeline of EPIC and how entering the lair of Scylla likely wasn’t that long after Puppeteer. Odysseus says they’ve been away from home for “about twelve years or so” and then there’s the obvious discrepancy of Odysseus telling Circe the same thing— explained away by it being a simple mistake on Jorge’s end. If we go by the likelihood that it hadn’t yet been twelve years when they met Circe and that Ody was lying, there’s a rough two-ish year period before Eurylochus actually tells the truth.

To some, this might be indicative of his cowardice, a show that he wouldn’t actually tell the truth and would prefer to hide away his greatest mistake for as long as he can manage.

I disagree. I think this could indicate a couple other things, though; namely that this is proof Eurylochus changed his perspective and decided to listen to Odysseus. Mutiny could only happen because Eurylochus realized his mistake in not believing Odysseus not just once, with the windbag, but twice when Odysseus went to save their men on Circe’s island. Three strikes, you’re out and Eurylochus is not that kind of man— side note: it isn’t hypocritical to change your viewpoint and then criticize someone for adopting your old one btw, it’s just how people function.

Different Beast does imply this a bit, but I think the fact that Eurylochus waited so long to tell Odysseus about the windbag is much more blatant. After all, Odysseus told him to wait, and he did. To me, it seems like Eurylochus read between the lines of Ody’s order (go make sure the island is secure, there’s only so much left we can endure) and took it to mean “wait to tell me when things have settled and we aren’t on the brink of dying”.

Which leads to the second implication, why did Eurylochus choose this moment? Obviously, he didn’t know the nature of Scylla or the danger that they were in, but what about this moment in particular left Eurylochus feeling secure enough to tell Odysseus? Well, the obvious answer is the ruthlessness Odysseus showed in Different Beast showing that they’ve reached that point of power and being able to defend themselves even from monsters that have slain so many sailors.

But another option could be the idea that Scylla was their “last stop” before going home. It’s a bit unclear if this remains true in EPIC, but in the Odyssey, Scylla and Charybdis are right next to each other and the trick is that you have to pick your poison— do you want to die to the whirlpool monster or the six-headed one? What is clear in EPIC is that Ithaca is just past Charybdis, meaning that Scylla, in theory, could’ve been their final stop before reaching Ithaca had Mutiny not happened. There is a very real possibility that they might not have gone to the first island they found if Odysseus hadn’t been knocked unconscious. They still might have just because they were hungry, but it can be difficult to tell which is fate and which is the result of man’s actions.

Either way, I think that a lot of people tend to gloss over the fact that it’s very apparent Eurylochus was going to tell Odysseus what happened as soon as he could and only didn’t because Odysseus told him to wait. It’s a very interesting aspect of his character to me and I think it reveals a lot in terms of his character motivations and how it contrasts to Odysseus’ perception of him throughout the show.

[pitchsidestories]

New Romantics (2) II Grace Clinton x Bronze!Reader

part 1 I masterlist I word count: 2485

summary: England looses at home and you feel like it's your fault, but your girlfriend Grace Clinton and your older sister Lucy Bronze are there for you. Despite that you've a decision to make which could change your life.

a/n: Hi, quite a few of you wanted to see a part 2 of this, we hope you enjoy it just as much as part 1. Plus, the oneshot was written before the announcement of Lucy Bronze leaving the club. 💔

The last bit of energy left your body once the game ended. You had been on a high with the English national team so this result was more than just disappointing. You felt deflated. Angry and sad and everything in between.

It was an important game that you just lost against France. It was in front of a home crowd and in front of your whole family. You wanted to disappear, not talk to anyone for some time.

Grace approached you when you were still standing on the pitch, scenes from the play replaying in front of your inner eye again and again. You losing the ball in a dangerous situation right in front the penalty area. Why did you not pass faster? Why did you not play a long ball out?

“Y/n? Your family is over there, let’s say hi to them…“ Graces voice was soft next to your ear.

She pointed to the stands but you refused to look. Tears welled up in your eyes at the mention of your family.

“I can’t. I disappointed them, Grace…“, you sniffed.

Grace gently took your hand into hers, rubbing circle with her thumb: “You didn’t. They’re your family, they’ll want to see you.“

You pulled back from her: “But I don’t want to see anyone right now.“

“Y/n.“, she said but you were already headed towards the changing rooms so you missed your Lucy approaching Grace with a frown.

“Where’s my sister, Grace? Our nephew and niece wanted to say hi to her.“

“She went to the changing rooms already.“, the young midfielder replied truthfully, but slightly hurt.

Without missing a beat, Lucy walked determinedly towards the players tunnel.

“Y/n!“ You winced as she called your name and slammed open the door.

You knew what would follow. And you really did not need a lecture right now.

“What?! Leave me alone, Lucia!“, you yelled at her, standing up from the wooden bench that you had been sitting on.

“No!“

You glared at each other for a moment until you finally gave in first. You sighed and whispered: “I can’t go back out there…“

“Our family is waiting. Mum and Dad want to see you.“

“They want to see me? After this game? The second goal for France was so my fault…“ Scepticism outweighed the disbelief in your voice.

Lucy rolled her eyes: “Can you calm down? This is not your first football game. Mistakes happen, there are ten of us on the field who are supposed to help you in these situations.“

“No but… It was in front of our family. And what if Sarina doesn’t call me up anymore after his?“, you asked. Your thoughts were running wild with your greatest fears.

“That’s just football, y/n.”, your older sister shrugged. In a more uplifting tone, she continued:” And Sarina was talking to mum earlier about how happy she was with your debut.”

“She did? Really?”, you looked up at her surprised.

“Of course she did. You played great except for that one second.”, Lucy answered, there was a softness to her voice now which wasn’t here before. The older defender knew what she was talking about, her career had a lot of highs and a few lows too and mistakes were made along the way. They were a part of the beautiful game.

“A second which mattered.”, you whispered heartbroken.

“This is like arguing with a wall.”, Lucy rolled her eyes.

Your brother entered the changing room, glancing at her amused:” Weird, she reminds me of your younger self.”

“I wasn’t like this at all!”, the Barcelona player protested.

“Yes, you were and are bad at loosing games.”, he reminded her.

“Lies.”, she spat out.

“You know it’s true.”, Jorge argued. The older sister wouldn’t agree to it, but her silence was enough for him. Lucy and you were in some ways more similar than you would admit. Sometimes it scared her how much you reminded her of her younger self she thought she let behind. The defender saw your insecurities, and ambition and saw her young adult reflected in your behaviour.

Right behind Jorge were your nephew and niece.

The little girl came to you, her face beaming:” Look auntie Grace gave me this.”

“What’s that?”, you asked her irritated.

“It’s for you. Gracie said to give it to you.”, she declared.

“Thanks. That’s sweet of her.”, you sighed.

“And she’s waiting.”, your niece stated seriously.

When she and her brother were born you were relieved because it meant you weren’t the youngest in the family anymore. But you also felt a responsibility, to be more grown up, be a good example for them.

“Uhm little one? Are you very sad that we lost?”, you questioned her cautiously.

“No, next game you’ll win.”, the little girl shook her head fiercely. There was a certainty in her voice which warmed your heart.

“The next game is against them again.”, you remembered.

“Then you can try again.”, she grinned at you.

“Hi, you two.”, Grace stopped in front of you nervously.

“Grace, hi.”, you greeted her.

“Can I give you a hug now or is it too early for that?”, your girlfriend wanted to know.

“No, I’m ready for a hug.”, you told her. A relieved smile was on her lips while she bent down to kiss you, before wrapping her strong warms around you.

“Thank you, Grace.”, you muttered gratefully, as you inhaled her familiar scent of warmth and home.

“You’re welcome.”, she replied.

“I think I needed that.”, you acknowledged.

Your girlfriend studied your face with worry: “You can always come to me, not only for hugs you know? I hate when you’re too hard on yourself.“

“I know. But it just feels like shit when you’re partly responsible when your team loses… during your debut too.“ You tried to avoid her gaze by looking down at your shoes.

“You already played once for England so it’s not really your debut, love…“

You sighed, obviously she was right. “You know what I mean. Playing from the start… at home.“

Grace nodded slowly: “Sorry, of course.“

“But everyone’s been nothing but nice to me and it feels all wrong!“, you complained. You blinked back a few tears.

Lucy appeared on your side again with a deadpan expression: “No, that’s just how a team sticks together.“

You slowly started to get frustrated with your sister. It seemed like she refused to understand your point of view.

“I just feel like I don’t deserve it, you know?“

“Oh I know.“, she replied and you paused for a second, surprised.

“Luce…“

She rolled her eyes once again: “Also Jorge had to remind me.“

“I’ll let you two talk alone, in peace.“, Grace said quietly, almost ducking out of the conversation.

Gratefully, you squeezed her hand: “Thank you, Grace.“ Turning back to Lucy, you continued: “He had to remind you of…?“

“That I was just like you when I was younger. I still hate losing obviously but I don’t dwell on my mistakes that long anymore.“, Lucy revealed reluctantly.

You considered your sister for a moment: “How did you do it?“

“Losing and losing and losing again.“

“What? Really?“, you asked.

Lucy nodded solemnly: “Yes, one day you’ll get it.“

With a small smile you noted: “Also Graces hugs are helping.“

“Of course they are.“ Another eye roll, a defense mechanism as you knew.

You grinned: “Hey, do I have to remind you of Ona comforting you after the lost World Cup Final?“

“Shut up.“

“Never.“

Lucy grimaced, sticking out her tongue: “Be nice or I’ll make you rewatch your failure again!“

“Nooo.“, you drawled with a laugh.

Bickering with your sister always made you feel better.

“Don’t fight. I already missed her smile.“ Grace had reappeared with a kiss on your cheek.

Lucy shrugged: “That’s how you show love in the Tough-Bronze household, Grace!“

“That doesn’t sound very pleasant.“, Grace wrinkled her nose.

You took you girlfriends hand in yours: “Let’s leave, Grace.“

“Okay.“, she complied happily.

“Fine, but say hi to our parents!“, your sister called after you.

“I’ll!“

“Good girl!“

“Hi, everyone.”, you waved at your mum and dad, unsure what else to do.

“Hello y/n. We’re so proud of you.”, your mum hugged you, and pressed a kiss to your heated cheek.

“Thanks, mum.”, you answered quietly.

“The next time you’ll win against the French, I can feel it in my bones.”, your dad winked at you, he hoped this would make you smile, because he hated to see his children especially his youngest sad.

“Your granddaughter thinks so too.”, you responded with a small smile.

“And she must know it, trust me.”, your brother hummed.

“We’ll see next week.”, you said earnestly.

The next day you felt nervous. Sarina Wiegman has asked to have a conversation with and even though you remembered Lucys words from yesterday where she said that the England Coach was full of praise about you in front of your mum, there was a little voice inside your head telling you it must be bad news from her.

“Ah, thanks for coming y/n, sit down.”, Sarina looked up delighted, nodding into the empty chair opposite from where she was sitting.

Like you expected the Dutch woman came straight to the point, leaving all the nice English necessities at the door:” When you were involved in the own goal, you were not mentally in the game, right? You seemed distracted for a second.”

“Yes, I promise this won’t happen again. To be honest I was thinking about an offer I got.”, you promptly confessed. There was no use in being dishonest in front of Sarina who with her glasses seem to look straight into your heart.

“I see.. if you want to talk about it.”, she offered kindly.

“Sorry, I haven’t told anyone yet, first I thought it was a joke.”, you continued, feeling the weight of your shoulders getting a little less now that you were speaking the truth.

“I think you haven’t seen how much you’ve improved over the past few months. I’m sure whatever offer it’s, it wasn’t a joke.”, she remarked thoughtfully.

“It’s Barcelona.”, you retorted hastily.

“This is a big step.”, the Blonde observed.

“It’s but I’m not sure if I’m ready for that yet.”, you admitted truthfully.

“I trust that you’ll figure out what’s best for you, you’re still young.”, the Dutch reminded you warmly.

“But my family, friends and girlfriend are in England.”, you listed your personal reasons for a stay in London.

“Maybe you should talk to them about it. You need to get this out of your head.”, Sarina suggested.

“I’ll start with Grace and then Lucy.”, you decided.

You wanted to talk to your girlfriend about it as soon as possible, so when you both were getting ready to got bed, you chose to open up.

“Gracie?“

“Yes?“, she replied, slipping into her PJs.

“Can we talk? You might want to sit down for it…“ You grimaced, this sounded unnecessary dramatic.

Grace paused for a moment, taken aback but she quickly caught herself.

“Oh, sure. What is it?“ She sat down cross-legged on the mattress.

You could not look at her. “Barcelona offered me a contract.“

“Oh, wow. That’s amazing for you, babe.“, you heard your girlfriend say happily.

You looked up at her in confusion. Did she not hear you? Or did she not understand what that meant?

“Yes, but… you wouldn’t mind?“

Your girlfriend watched you with soft eyes: “We’re both football players, I know what it means to be able to play for Barcelona. If you want to go, I’ll support you. We can make it work.“

It was hard to find words for what you were feeling after hearing these words from her.

You swallowed around the lump in your throat: “You’re the best, Grace.“

“Don’t even worry about it.“, she smiled.

“I love you.“

“I love you too.“

After your surprisingly successful talk with Grace, you decided to keep the conversation more casual with your sister.

You were on your way to the stadium for the second match against France when you dropped into the seat next to Lucy: “Luce?“

She gave you an annoyed look, she was currently in a video call with her girlfriend.

“Since when are you sitting next to me? Scared of the game?“, she teased.

“Not about the game, it’s about an offer I got…“

Your sister perked up, ignoring Ona on the screen. You knew she was silent to eavesdrop on the conversation.

“An offer, huh?“

“Yes, Grace said she would support me going there.“, you smiled innocently.

Lucy frowned: “Where is it?“

“Barcelona…“

“What?! Of course you’re taking that offer!“, she commanded, her voice a bit too loud.

You grimaced uncomfortably: “What if I’m not good enough, Lucy?“

She shook her head with reassuring calmness: “They wouldn’t want you if you weren’t.“

“True… so you wouldn’t mind me joining your team?“

A smirk appeared on your sisters face: “I would force you to if I could.“

“Alright but I might have move in with Ona and you for a couple of days until I have an apartment.“, you smiled at her.

“Don’t worry, we’ll survive.“, she shrugged.

Ona called from Lucys phone screen: “My favourite Bronzey will move to Barca?! I’m so excited!“

“Me too, Oni.“, you grinned back at her while Lucy angled her phone towards you.

“Excuse me?!“, Lucy asked her girlfriend in mock offense.

“Can’t wait to see you again and meet the team soon… but we got a game to win now.“, you told Ona.

Lucy took the phone back and with an apologetic shrug said into the camera: “You heard her.“

“I did. Waiting patiently for your return, amor.“, Ona waved her goodbye through the phone.

You wrinkled your nose, looking at your sister: “Disgusting.“

Lucy just elbowed you in the side for your comment and told Ona: “I’ll be back before you know it. With or without my sister.“

She warningly raised an eyebrow, making sure you understood her threat but instead you just burst out in giggles.

The relief you felt after your talks lasted throughout the game. This topic stopped weighing your game down, your were back to your usual self and profited from a change of tactics.

It was a much better game that you won 2:1.

You jumped into Grace arms once the game was over. “We won, Grace!“

“You had an amazing game!“, your girlfriend cheered, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You basically vibrated with excitement. Wrapping your arms around her neck, you kissed her on the lips in front of the whole stadium.

Lucy stood to the side, watching this display with her arms crossed in front of her chest. She smirked at her coach who stood right beside her: “Young love, eh?“

“She’s not staying, right?“, Sarina asked.

“No but their love can handle this.“

Your feedback is always appreciated. <3

[ray935sworld]

A letter from the past

Pedrenzo

Dani was just doing some cleaning. Nothing more.

He lifted a handfull of books out of the shelves to scoop the dust away, when he shifted his hand slightly backwards.

They fell down with a crushing sound and Dani flinched involuntary. He hated loud sounds.

He sighed as he kneeled down to gather them again. One. Two. Three. Four. And then - then he saw it.

A scruffy looking envelope was half falling out of one of the books, only revealed after falling to the ground like this. Curiously he lifted that one up, after placing the rest on the shelf again.

The book was one of Jorge's. Jorge already had it when they moved on together, the older was sure. Dani couldn't remember every looking into it.

But apparently there had been an envelope hidden in it.

Dani couldn't help but pull it out in between the pages. He turned it around and froze when he saw his own name, written on the front.

'Pedrosa' was written in a scruffy way.

He recognized that writing everywhere. It was the same writing as on their shopping list. It was the same one scribbling down important dates on the sticky notes. At least for their marriage license he had made an effort.

Dani bit his lips. A short moment of hesitation hold him back. Technically he shouldn't open it. The letter was clearly hidden. If Jorge wanted him to see it, he would have given it to him, wouldn't he?

But the letter was addressed to him. And the two were married. And a look on the paper, the edges clearly already haven taken a toll, made clear the letter was old. Really old.

So he decided to just go for it.

By then he was sitting down on their living room floor. The letter wasn't even sealed properly. It didn't take any effort to open it and slowly fold the paper open.

"You fucking asshole. You asshole. You asshole. You asshole"

Dani laughed out loud when he read that. His eyes scanned the page again, finding a date set at around 2003. 2003 Jorge calling him an asshole was very much on point.

He smiled at the memories. Jorge playing tough and pushing him away. Himself not backing down either. They hated each other with a burning passion and now they loved each other with an even stronger, more fiery burning passion.

"I hate you. I hate you so fucking much. I wanna yell at you and curse at you. You are so fucked up and I don't even know what's your fucking problem. I never did anything to you but you keep fucking me up."

Slowly Dani's face fell. He blinked in confusion as he read the words. He seriously couldn't even remember what he had done. But apparently it had hurt his future husband deeply.

A pang of guilt hit him. He hadn't meant to hurt him, even back then when they couldn't stand each other.

Nag him? Yes. Annoy him? Yes. Make fun of him? Yes. But seriously hurt him? No. Never.

"This is all your fault. You did this to me. It's not me. It's you. You're the problem. I had everything sorted. I packed my feeling away. I didn't give a fuck about you anymore and then you asshole break your ankles. BOTH EVEN."

2003. His broken ankles. This was after he won the championship.

"I had to drive past you while you lay there with BROKEN LEGS. You couldn't move and I couldn't help you. And I thought I wouldn't care. I thought I didn't care."

Dani swallowed. What he thought would be a fun letter suddenly turned more serious than he had expected.

He remembered the moment Jorge described. It had hurt like hell. He couldn't remember where Jorge was at that time. It wasn't impossible he was behind him at that time, driving past him in tbe practice session.

"You already left me in the class. And I'm okay with that. You leave me with fucking Stoner and Dovizioso and I don't give a fuck. I don't give a fuck. I'll see you anyways and I'll join you in 250cc faster than you want. You just wait and then I'll beat your fucking ass!!"

Dani chuckled. Jorge's rookie season in 2005 had been his last 250cc season.

"But you laying there was cruel. You not getting up was an asshole move. I thought you may never could get up again and you scared me. You scared the living crap out of me you fucking asshole"

Dani felt tears in his eyes. The kid that wrote this - only 16 years old - had so much anger and love in his heart that there hadn't been a separation.

Every word felt like a punch to his guts.

"I wanted to help you. I wanted to ditch my bike and help you get back to the pits. I wanted to carry you even... I wanted to make sure you're okay. I would have even stayed with you in the hospital which terrifies me. I don't give a fuck about you but you make me want to look after you, you stupid asshole"

The love and the hate had mixed and somehow this had been the result. Dani stared at the words. He tried to imagine what Jorge must have felt in that moment.

His words seemed to be entangled in hate and love, caring and wanting to stay unaffected.

The kid that wrote these words about an 18 year old Dani, would grow up to marry the boy he was now cursing and worrying about.

"So?! Why? Why Pedrosa? Why did you doing that to me? Why do you keep worrying me with you stupid tiny, hot body! No! Wait. Fuck. I'm not gay! I just you know what? Fuck this shit. What am I even doing here?"

With that, the letter ended.

Dani kept sitting on the floor, rereading every word.

He looked at the words, seeing the young boy that had stolen his heart when he was barely older than him.

He was overjoyed things turned out the way they did, but reading those words once again lit worries in him.

It reminded him of all the long late night conversations they had. It reminded him of all the times Jorge mentioned concerning behavior off handed, as if they were normal facts. It reminded him of every time Jorge had been drunk and talking about things, that made a shiver run down Dani's spine.

The boy that had written that letter was still in all those moments. He had still been trapped in a burning house. He had still fought against demons. His heart had still been filled with hate, that he had embraced without a choice while it was holding him with an iron grip.

But still, there was signs of love. There were glimpse of the older Jorge visible, the one that had managed to charm Dani. The man he ended up marrying.

And he was grateful for that.

He was hurt for the boy Jorge used to be big he was grateful for the man he turned out to be.

Without a second thought, he grabbed his phone and opened the chat with his husband.

"I love you so incredible much <3" he texted and got an "I love you too. So so much <3" back within a few minutes.

Dani looked at the letter again, unsure if he should tell Jorge about it ask him or if he should put it back without saying a word.

That night, Dani hold Jorge a little bit tighter than usual. The younger one just smiled, kissing his head.

[fans4wga]

[ID: tweet from WGA member Jorge A. Reyes @/JorgeCoolReyes that says, "Lastly for our @sagaftra sibs: trade press will TRASH your deal, in an effort to make you think a strike wasn't worth it. THAT IS A TACTIC to discourage labor from striking.

Horseshit. You wouldn't have won the gains you you did w/o WHAT YOU DID. So take a bow. Ignore the bs." end ID]

Remember that the trades like Deadline, Hollywood Reporter, and Variety will try to spin the strike narrative negatively in the coming weeks and months. They'll say things like it's WGA/SAG-AFTRA's fault the strikes were dragged on; that the unions are responsible for the California economic downturn; that unions are bad for the workers.

But just look at the results of their deals—from unparalleled minimum wage increases to historic AI limitations. Strikes work. Unions work. Counter the false narratives whenever you see them.

[fall0utmind]

Maybe I had a really funny idea for a Rosquez Fic

IF in 2019 Marc's teammate wasn't Jorge Lorenzo but Valentino Rossi?

No stop because could you imagine the carnage?? Would it end up ruining them more, or would it fix them? Rossi wouldn't like to lose. Even worse on equal machinery. I can't imagine it working out in any way, shape, or form. Especially after Argentina 2018...

How would Honda handle their two champions? I also feel like they're so protective of marc, so how would that sit with Valentino? Santi would be a protector in my eyes, always watching Marc's back.

Maybe, actually, being Marc's teammate means that Vale sees a different side of marc, makes him feel softer?? Like marc Post Race debriefs, marc when he's upset, when he's happy, and when he feels guilty.

God there's so much to unpack??

This is how it would start in my world

-----------

Marc scowled.

This couldn't be real, and yet Valentino rossi was standing across from him at the Honda headquarters.

He didn't know who's idea this was. They were an idiot, whoever it was. It was like putting a cat and a dog together and expecting them to be friends.

Valentino hated his guts, and nothing would ever change that. He'd made it abundantly clear. Making them teammates? Certifiably going to end in disaster - and probably at least one broken heart.

Valentino sneered at him, before he turned and walked into the building, not sparing marc a second glance.

He sighed, rearranging the jagged edges of his heart inside his chest, repeating the same old mantra which had dragged him through the past four years.

You do not need him.

He is not worth your time.

He doesn't determine your worth.

It wasn't your fault

Marc groaned. It was going to be a long year.

[moonshynecybin]

sorry what exactly happened in Argentina?

repsol-ariel did two gifests about it here and here and the race is actually online 4 free HEREE but as vale says in that podcast, marc made a stupid tire choice and vale passed him, then marc got a lil overzealous tryin to catch him again and crashed out pretty hard. now where vale and i disagree in terms of interpretation of these events is uh. notable. because vale seems to think that marc gunned it on the inside (not pictured in the gifsets but they DO make contact right before that, 45:37 is the timestamp on youtube) so he could divebomb vale and knock him out of the race on purpose. like a nascar bump and run. which um no i dont think that is correct my man. in fact i think that is somewhat unhinged ! like the contact/crash is marc's typical slightly criminal overeager bully-on-track behavior and IS marc's fault imo but like marc is being the same bitch he's always been. brother it happens. vale's statement also. interestingly 2 me. sounds a lot like what pecco said about alex a couple weeks ago. funny, that !

but fr its essentially the first sign of on-track tension between them for the 2015 season, and also pretty emblematic of marc's season as a whole. The 2015 honda had a difficult, unforgiving chassis and marc crashed a lot more than normal (part of which was him trying to override it), which along with some injuries pretty much took him out of title contention for the year (the yamaha was also just really good ! vale and jorge were slayingggg). but vale being like YEAH marc tried to KILL ME and then KISSED MY ASS for the rest of the year despite HATING ME for the rest of the season is like. a really crazy thing to say to me because the NEXT RACE was jerez 2015, where he made a bunch of tongue in cheek gay sex jokes about him + marc AND was just generally VERY sweet the whole time ! like he was pretty concerned about marc's hand injury! (links HERE and here and here and theres more i cant find but crucially its all initiated by VALE. not marc) so i think there's some realllll confirmation bias coloring his memory here because as we know if vale hates your ass he'll just cut you the fuck out. and he demonstrably hadnt done that yet!!!!!

[zer0brainc3lls]

Newtmas headcanons perhaps?

Ik my requests are closed but I got this awhile ago and I just decided screw it and ima answer it (sorry I’m so late) but srsly my requests are closed ☹️ also this post is RIDICULOUSLY LONG. BE WARNED.

- when they were in the scorch newt struggled with all the walking and running because of his leg, Thomas would call for breaks saying he’s tired when really he’s fine and just noticed Newt was having a hard time

- Thomas has leg strength, Newt has arm strength

- they silently communicate ALL the time, glances, body language etc. they don’t need to be vocal to know what the other wants to say and it’s extremely annoying for everyone around them 😭 example:

Jorge: *proposes plan*

Thomas: *looks at newt*

Newt: *looks at Thomas*

Jorge: what are you two doing?!

Thomas: yeah ok we’re in

Jorge: what do you mean we? Newt can speak for himself-

Newt: no I’m in?

Thomas: yeah Jorge he’s in what are you talking about?

Jorge: what are YOU talking about??

- Thomas loves to read, Newt loves to write. Newt rarely writes anything fictional, often only writing about his day but likes writing poetry and Thomas loves reading Newts poetry ☹️

- when Newt got the flare Thomas wrote down any symptoms he knew about it and asked Brenda about it as well, even taking posters that were hung up for his own reference.

- when Newt got the flare he would sometimes try to start arguments over petty things that didn’t matter, not realising his anger wasn’t his own and Thomas would just look at him with a sad smile :( example:

Newt: your a bloody idiot sometimes you know that?! WHY would you-

Thomas: *looks away*

Newt: … sorry, I didn’t mean-

Thomas: I know. it’s okay, it’s not your fault.

- Thomas often looks for pain medication on supply runs for Newts leg, he tells Newt he just found it when really he spent ages searching for it

- sometimes leading the group is a lot for Thomas, he turns to Newt to make decisions sometimes. Newt gives suggestions on what to do and how to say it since he was second in command for so long and saw how alby ran the show.

- Thomas LOVES Newts hair, any chance he gets he’s constantly touching it, burying his face in his hair, if it got kinda long he would plait small bits of it.

- despite Thomas’s leg strength he’s a TERRIBLE swimmer, never learnt how. Newt however? Despite he’s leg he’s surprisingly good, he learnt in the lake at the glade and when they got to the safe haven he INSISTED that Thomas had to learn, for his safety of course. (He really just wanted to see Thomas in board shorts but he never told him that)

- Thomas is an absolute SUCKER for Newts freckles/moles, in the glade Newt wore lots of tank tops and shorts since he was out in the sun all day gardening so he developed large freckles and moles alllll over his body and Thomas CANNOT get enough!!! Thomas kisses them all the time and Newt pretends to be annoyed (but he secretly loves it)

- how they got together was a whole gay mess 😭 example:

Newt: *staring longingly as per usual*

Thomas: *catches him and stares back*

Thomas: uhh-

Newt: *kisses him*

Newt: so uhm.. are we-?

Thomas: YES. YES PLEASE.

- they aren’t super massive on nicknames, but they have a few!!

Newt: Tommy, my love (if they are alone), love

Thomas: babe, honey (if they are alone), hun

- they both love their slight height difference, TO THEM ITS NOT SLIGHT OK!!

- in the scorch (after they got together but they hadn’t told anyone yet) they held hands. All. The. Time. If they were outside in the and Thomas would say “I’m just helping Newt through the sand” and if they were inside Newt would say “Tommy here is just helping me with my bum leg, isn’t that right Tommy?” (Everyone knew but said nothing, they thought they were soooo sneaky)

- before they got together they would insult eachother (never going over the line of course) ALL THE TIME. Like playfully, example:

Newt: your a shuckfaced idiot y’know that Tommy?

Thomas: oh really? Well you’re a hotheaded shank!

Newt: me?! Hotheaded?! Oh please- we both know who’s the hotheaded one!

Thomas: I hate you so so much

Newt: I hate you more!

Brenda: do you two need a minute or..?

- I have said this once but I’ll say it again, Thomas is so atrociously down bad for Newts accent. Like DOWN. BAD. Newt is unaware of this because Thomas has made it his own personal mission to hide it but Minho knows and uses it against him all the time 😭 example:

Minho: THOMAS PLEASE!!

Thomas: NO. I WONT DO IT.

Minho: I’ll tell Newt.

Thomas: … wait no-

Newt *walks over : tell me what?

Thomas: NOTHING BABE!!!

Newt: … ok then… bye love :) *walks off*

Thomas: *red in the face* … fine.

- another thing similar to this, Thomas blushes super easily but Newt has no clue for awhile and thinks he just has naturally rosy cheeks, Minho ofc exposes him example:

Minho: Thomas doesn’t have rosy cheeks

Newt: what? Yes he does? *holds Thomas’s face to show Minho, totally oblivious* see! Right there!

Thomas: *mouthing to Minho* Don’t. You. Dare.

Minho: *LAUGHING HIS ASS OFF* Newt.. take your hands off his face and look again!

Newt: *takes his hands off Thomas face and watches as his face goes back to normal* … *LAUGHS WITH MINHO*

Thomas: SLIM IT BOTH OF YOU

- Newt is obsessed with Thomas’s hands, his hands are almost to big for him and don’t fit his proportions but are scar free and much softer then Newts, Newts hands are the right size but covered in scars and calluses and Newt constantly traces along Thomas’s knuckles, palms, fingers you name it. Soft hands are a rarity in the glade and the scorch. Newt tells him how nice his hands are constantly 😭

- Newt is very confident, and is the more flirty one and is a lot more sarcastic Thomas however is a fucking sap but SOMETIMES he matches Newts flirting and Newt is just stunned to silence

- if Newt got the cure he would’ve gained some of his memory’s back, and Thomas still has some of his memory’s from the changing so they piece together story’s that are incomplete in each others heads :) they write it all down in the unlikely case of them forgetting

- picnic FANATICS. Picnics to them is serious business in the safe haven to them and they do NOT PLAY. They have multiple blankets they bought/made made, baskets, they reserve afternoons/early mornings to have them and secret spots they go to

- Newt hates sleeping in a room alone. Absolutely hates it. Like his whole life he’s always slept near another person: in the bunker as a toddler to young child, the massive shared room while with wicked, everyone sleeping close by in the glade etc. so when they made it to the safe haven and he had the option of privacy he was STUNNED. Thomas let Newt share a hut with him and they have lived together ever since

- When Newt got the flare Thomas never changed how he treated him, everyone else got sorta wary but Thomas never doubted his abilities or judgment. Never.

- when Minho was taken Newt and Thomas clung to each other for support, Newt lost his best friend and Thomas learning how to lead on his own and also losing a friend. They’re bond became unbreakable and they learnt to depend and trust each other

- Newt trusts Thomas but as we all know he jumps into plans or ideas with little to no direction and Newt will sometimes have to make Thomas take a step back and think about what they are doing 😭

- as the months went on Thomas got more and more stressed about finding Minho, feeling that it was his responsibility to find him. Often pulling all nighters or not sleeping for days without even realising, example:

Thomas: *in the map room muttering to himself, deep purple eye bags from not sleeping for almost 2 days*

Newt: *walks in* hey Tommy.. do you know what time it is?

Thomas: uhm.. *doesnt answer and continues to do whatever he’s doing on accident*

Newt: What day is it.

Thomas: uhhh Monday? *turns to face Newt wobbly* why are you up so late? Its 1am?

Newt: Tommy it’s Wednesday, and it’s 4am. Come to bed, now.

Thomas: *stunned for a second before turning away* I’ll be there in a minute babe I just need to-

Newt: Thomas. Now. *pulls him out of the map room and forces him to sleep*

- Thomas is Newts human calculator, any math problem ever Newt will just go “hey tommy what’s ——?” And Thomas will answer without hesitation because he’s just used to it by now, Newt could absolutely do it if he paused and took a second but Thomas doesn’t need to pause or think about it he just answers 😭 it’s effortless for him

- Thomas is the worlds biggest book worm, in the glade they didn’t have many books and in the scorch books were a rare find but in the safe haven they had a bit of selection and he was ECSTATIC. Newt got him a bunch of books one time and a week later he had finished most of them

- Newt is super flexible, Thomas forgets this a lot until Newt can fit himself into tight spaces with ease meanwhile Thomas is in no way flexible and Newt also forgets this so Newt will go into a vent or something with no effort meanwhile Thomas is STRUGGLING

- Thomas and newt get into petty arguments (they aren’t actually fighting) on how to say things/spell things 😭 example:

Newt: it’s COLOUR. C O L O U R.

Thomas: ITS COLOR?!

Newt: says the boy that spells mum as m o m

Thomas: THATS HOW ITS SPELT?!

- if they are ever going up onto high places, Thomas always gives Newt a boost and then Newt will pull Thomas up

- Newt makes fires, Thomas gathers the wood and stuff to start it

- Thomas covers for Newt all the time, often forgetting to cover himself and the only reason why he hasn’t gotten hurt is because Newt does exactly the same thing for Thomas

- don’t get me wrong, they are both extremely strong and capable alone but TOGETHER?! ABSOLUTE UNIT. They know each others fighting styles, weaknesses, preferred weapons and where they keep they’re back ups 😭 they both steal eachother back up knives all the time

- they share most of they’re weapons but Thomas never takes Newts machete, it’s from the glade and very important to him and he keeps it on top shape and doesn’t like other people using it

- they aren’t huge on PDA but they 100% gravitate towards each other subconsciously, walking next to each other and holding hands, sitting next to each other, falling asleep on shoulders/laps etc they are almost always within ear shot of each other to the put of people asking one of them “where Thomas/Newt?” Instead of just trying to find them themselves because there’s a HIGH chance they both know where the other is example:

Jorge: Thomas do you know where-

Thomas: he’s getting food from frypan why?

Newt: *walks back over with two plates of food and passes a plate to Thomas* hey Jorge you need me?

- Newt loves giving words of affirmation, loves receiving physical touch, Thomas loves giving physical touch, loves receiving words of affirmation

- Thomas 100% opens and closes doors for Newt, and holds his hand getting out of cars :3 at first it was a joke and sorta teasing but it became a habit over time

- Newts the type of guy to sit as close as humanly possible to Thomas, if they’re with close friends their legs will literally be squished together and Newt will be holding his hand, god forbid they are alone 😭 legs fully draped across Thomas’s lap, tracing lines across Thomas’s palms while absolutely YAPPING. Thomas is just staring at him with big heart eyes going “uh huh” “yeah”

Anyways I hope you enjoyed my yap session

[marquezism]

read your tags on this post  you say #and then theres the part of me that thinks vale knew he wouldnt win and to spare himself that he pretended its marcs fault but … hah

 and boy do i have something for you. from the same journalist in another podcast on vale he said.

"Then in 2010, Lorenzo beat Rossi on the same machinery, with the same tires. But that’s also the year Rossi broke his tibia and fibula in a practice crash at the Italian GP at Mugello, so Rossi had yet another excuse for not seeing himself as a loser. The titles he lost up until that point were: 2006 to Hayden—an odd year for Rossi, as he was more focused on F1 tests than bikes; 2007 to Stoner, but that was the year Stoner had Bridgestones, and the Michelins were inferior, so that’s his excuse. In 2010, he broke his leg. Then 2011 and 2012, he was on Ducati, so it doesn’t count because he didn’t have a good bike. In 2013, he returned to Yamaha but was still adapting to the bike. In 2014, Honda was unbeatable with Márquez, who won the first 10 races. So he still had an alibi. Finally, 2015, he claims it was stolen by the Spanish biscotto. That’s how Rossi frames the losses."

food for thoughts indeed ah ah

about this post

lmaoooooooo do NOT get me started cause i'll reach vale levels of delusion but i honestly think it's REALLY funny how it was always something...

even in 2006, they don't mention it here but wasn't that the year of the tyre scandal, where PEOPLE were SAYING that SOMEONE was manipulating vale's tyres for valencia... which is so. because my god, out of all the titles he lost since 2001, 2006 was the most easily winnable. i don't think anyone going into that race didn't think vale would win the title. the race prior, nicky crashed out in estoril (CRAZY CRAZY CRAZY ALL TIME RACE!!! took TEN years until a non-factory bike would win another in motogp), and they went into valencia with vale leading nicky by eight points. vale ends up losing out to nicky by five points and the last win is behind him as well meaning vale needed to finish p8 or higher with nicky finishing p3 to win the title. like he could be losing out to nicky by eight points in the race!!! and still win the title!!! just had to be NORMAL about it!!! but he wasnt. he poled it, because of course, and then he crashed. congratulations. im sure it was the tyres. (personally im kinda convinced that vale never was as mad at nicky bc he knew that he fucked it himself).

and like yeah, every other year is alllllllllways somethinggggg lololol and its FUNNY. because he does live off of excuses. it's always someone else's fault. which is extremely funny in CONTEXT because pecco is the same exact way. even in the sepang sprint, it was "the tyres" and it was "the tyres" all year. the tyres or the set-up or the starting device, the bike or michelin or someone crashing him out. funny.

as regards my tag, well. he failed to take the podium in phillip island, even though he REALLY should have. this left vale eleven points in the lead to jorge with two races to go. two races in which jorge was always very strong. if you look at his numbers, during his motogp years he always podiumed in sepang, and more often than not won in valencia. it was to be expected that he would do amazing in both races. is it really so far out of the reach of ideas that valentino would... build himself a little safety net? a little two birds with one stone moment? use phillip island to plant the biscotto idea and thereby a) try to unsettle both jorge and marc who - evidently - had no plans of yielding and would fight for every race win until the end and b) create for himself an excuse that would rally the nation of italy and really the motorcycle world behind him - him! most beloved of all! - to defend his honour and his abilities and his championship that was stolen! by this vicious spanish duo! stolen from the true king and winner! JUST in case everything went to shit and jorge did manage to score eleven points more than vale across those two grand prix which, i think, vale thought entirely possible with how phillip island went.

and it worked, is the thing. vale did have an excuse for 2015 and continues to have one. it is still a championship that was "stolen" from him to this day, in an act of unfathomable betrayal, by an unconcerned party. not jorge is the culprit, but - THREE birds with one stone! - marc, the most likely rider maybe ever to overtake valentino in numbers and (at that point) maybe even legacy. truly a masterstroke, if you think about it. if you allow for the biscotto to have even a shred of truth to it. if you believe that valentino was... well. ill-used. poor vale. tragic.

the thing that fucks with me the most about it all is genuinely that he decided it was fine to throw away his relationship with marc over this. that to feel better about himself and in the eyes of the world to remain untouchable and, really, betrayed and robbed, he did that. and he didnt care. and he still does not.

but thats the me talking that wants to see him exposed and desecrated so. delulu, as i said. much more complicated than that, im sure. vale did nothing wrong, every championship he didn't win was stolen from him, he is an angel and should be praised as such, marc marquez is the DEVIL who PURPOSEFULLY FELL in sepang. and we know he never falls down.