#Conquering The Pacific

[barelysleepyy]

For @get-shortcaked

( This is an old drawing but shh )

Happy (late) pride month!

[the-kaiju-faces]

Baragon

[nudityandnerdery]

"Why did they attack Japan? What was that war about?" If only there was some sort of way to look up information on computers and find out how World War 2 started.

hey i can't make it to Sorry For Visiting Wanton Destruction Upon Your Populace For No Reason Day yeah uhm its just that like you didn't invite my war crime friend and i think its kinda fucked up that you did that

[sunoflegend]

verse tags / relationship tag dumps !

[reasonsforhope]

"For generations, the people of Erakor village in the Pacific nation of Vanuatu would pass their time swimming in the local lagoon. Ken Andrew, a local chief, remembers diving in its depths when he was a child, chasing the fish that spawned in its turquoise waters.

That was decades ago. Now 52, Andrew has noticed a more pernicious entity invading the lagoon: plastic.

“The plastic would form a small island inside the lagoon, it was so thick,” Andrew says. “We used fishing nets to pull some of the trash out, but we didn’t know how to get rid of it all. We couldn’t conquer it, there was just too much.”

While residents were struggling to empty Vanuatu’s waters of plastic, the country’s politicians were considering another solution. Could they stop the waste directly at the source?

Small island nations like Vanuatu face a series of unique challenges when it comes to plastic pollution. Many rely on imported goods to sustain their populations, and receive tonnes of plastic packaging every day as a result. Ocean currents pull plastic waste from around the world into Pacific waters, which eventually end up on the shores of its islands.

Few Pacific island governments have adequate recycling or waste management facilities on their narrow strips of land, so rubbish is often burned or left to wash up in rivers or lagoons like the one in Erakor. It is estimated that Pacific countries generate 1kg of waste per person a day, 40% higher than the global average.

In an attempt to drastically limit the amount of waste generated in Vanuatu, in 2018 the government became one of the first in the world to outlaw the sale and distribution of certain single-use plastics – including a world-first ban on plastic straws.

In the six years since, the results have been impressive. Thin, plastic shopping bags are hardly ever seen, with most shoppers carrying reusable bags at their local market or grocery store. At festivals and outdoor events, food is more often served wrapped in banana leaves instead of polystyrene takeaway boxes. Now-banned items used to make up 35% of Vanuatu’s waste, but now make up less than 2%.

Pictured: Pandanus leaves are now used instead of plastic bags at markets, but supply of the crop can be affected by storms and cyclones, vendors say.

The plastic islands that once choked Erakor lagoon are also shrinking.

“Since they started the ban, you can see the lagoon has become cleaner,” says Andrew.

It is a massive victory for a small island nation made up of just over 300,000 people across 83 islands...

In 2020, a second phase of the policy added seven more items to the list of forbidden plastics, which now covers cutlery, single-use plates and artificial flowers.

“It’s quite difficult to enforce because of the very low capacity of the department of environment,” Regenvanu says. “So we try to work with the municipal authorities and customs and other people as well.”

Compromises had to be made, though. Fishers are still allowed to use plastic to wrap and transport their produce. Plastic bottles are also permitted, even though they often litter coastlines and rivers.

Secondary industries have now developed to provide sustainable alternatives to the banned items. On the island of Pentecost, communities have started replacing plastic planter pots with biodegradable ones made from native pandanus leaves. Mama’s Laef, a social enterprise that began selling fabric sanitary napkins before the ban, has since expanded its range to reusable nappies and bags.

“We came up with these ideas to reduce the amount of plastic in Vanuatu,” says the owner Jack Kalsrap. “We’re a small island state, so we know that pollution can really overwhelm us more than in other, bigger countries.” ...

Willy Sylverio, a coordinator of the Erakor Bridge Youth Association, is trying to find ways to recycle the litter his team regularly dredges up from the lagoon.

“The majority of the plastic waste now comes from noodle packaging or rice packaging, or biscuit packets,” Sylverio says. He hopes the plastic ban will one day include all packaging that covers imported goods. “Banning all plastic is a great idea, because it blocks the main road through which our environment is polluted.”

The Vanuatu government plans to expand the plastic ban to include disposable nappies, and says it will also introduce a plastic bottle deposit scheme this year to help recycle the remaining plastic waste in the country."

-via The Guardian, June 20, 2024

[northameicanblog]

Panama City, Panama: Panama City is the capital and largest city of Panama. The city is located at the Pacific entrance of the Panama Canal, in the province of Panama. The city is the political & administrative center of the country, as well as a hub for banking & commerce. The city of Panama was founded on 15 August 1519, by Spanish conquistador Pedro Arias Dávila. The city was the starting point for expeditions that conquered the Inca Empire of Peru. Wikipedia

[dukeofriven]

So often alt-Earth worldbuilding falls apart under the slightest bit of pressure: what if every human on earth from birth had a sentient, speech-capable, physical manifestation of their soul that could shape shift and eventually settled on a form that revealed some inner truth about your person would that not radically alter the course of human history? To which the answer, apparently, was 'not in any meaningful way, no.'

Live theater in the His Dark Materials universe must be wild. Surely an actor's daemon also has lines to recite, so their daemon's form probably also factors into casting decisions. Maybe some plays have vague character descriptions for daemons, but I bet other plays have really specific or central daemon characters. And sure, big-budget theaters can afford to hire a separate actor with a particular daemon to stand backstage while their daemon plays its part onstage, but community theaters don't have those kinds of resources.

Like if you're casting for Julius Caesar, surely the real historical Caesar had a pretty iconic daemon, right? Are you going to cast an actor with a pigeon daemon as Caesar and just have everyone suspend their disbelief that it's Caesar's lioness, ἁμαρτία?

[charlesoberonn]

Avatar headcanon (or AU really since I'm pretty sure it contradicts the lore):

The Air Nomads used to be a lot more violent.

They ate meat too, raising sky bisons and other animals not just for transportation but for food as well. Basically they were more like real nomadic civilizations, except they could fly and (some but not all) were Airbenders.

They waged nomadic warfare as well, raiding settled communities and extorting tributes. And waging war against other tribes of Air Nomads for grazing and raiding territory as well as for revenge of apparent slights. They were extremely loyal to their tribe and kin, above all other loyalties.

Eventually a powerful Air Nomad leader managed to unite the different tribes into one Air nation and he waged a war of conquest across much of the world.

He ruled for many years but after his death his empire was splintered among his descendants and rival warlords. The Air Nomads began to wage war on one another, but this time with a lot more ferocity, with armored Air Bisons and ground armies made up of conquered peoples.

It's during this warring states period that the beginnings of what would become the Air Nomad way developed, as a solution to the never-ending cycle of violence.

The practitioners of the new way adopted pacifism and eventually also vegetarianism. They raised Sky Bison not as property or tools, but as partners and fellow living beings, a sentiment they later expanded to all animals.

The practitioners took in many war orphans as well as babies whose parents couldn't raise them. And when these orphans grew and had kids of their own they often gave them to the temples to be raised there as well. This reinvented the way Air Nomads raised their children, putting harmony and individual growth over ties of blood.

As more and more Air Nomads adopted the new way, eventually the warlords and self-style Air Kings did too. And in time they or their descendants gave up their titles and claims. The now centuries-old way became the way of all Air Nomads.

Though their numbers were smaller, due to their spiritual acuity and their system of mutual aid, the Air Nomad were all much healthier than the other nations and all of them were Airbenders.

[adventures-in-mangaland]

I'm going with 10 All Time Classics from the Captain America (MCU) fandom. I mean, they're all classics to me, at least. In no particular order:

1. This, You Protect by owlet

First installment in the Infinite Coffee and Protection Detail series, which are all amazing. It's a “Bucky escaping Hydra and rebuilding his sense of self” fic, which he does while spying on Steve. With eventual Avengers Family and a lovely cast of OCs bonding with Bucky in the meantime. It has a very distinctive perspective and writing style; Bucky's in constant internal (and sometimes accidentally external) dialogue with himself, making it hilarious and tragic all at the same time. I love it. I've recently been getting into The Murderbot Diaries by Martha Wells and this Bucky has a similar sassy-but-vulnerable vibe? Read this if you like that, anyway.

2. The One Who Knows by Dira Sudis (dsudis)

This is a Political Animals AU, in that no-powers Steve is inserted into the Political Animals world and Bucky is TJ. Discusses being outed and depression but is ultimately hopeful. The author is one of my all time faves and has written lots of great stories for this and many other fandoms.

3. Blue Scales by chaya

Steve is a merman AU. He's still Captain America, though. It's crack with heart, I love it.

Best line: "May your scales and your love story be our weird secret forever.”

4. Our Lingering Frost by eyres

AU where Bucky is rescued from Hydra in the 50s (?) and so is around for Steve to be found.

5. Assets Out of Containment by follow_the_sun

It's a classic to *me*, OK? Bucky goes undercover at Jurassic World just as that movie's plot kicks off. They're Hydra dinosaurs! It's just great. Also has a podfic and crossovers with Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.

6. Not Easily Conquered (series) by dropdeaddream and WhatAreFears

Some of the greatest fanfiction I've ever read, the whole series is epic. Anyway, it's a "Steve doesn't go into the ice" AU with added queer angst when (never sent) love letters from Bucky resurface. I particularly like the second installment in the series The Thirteen Letters, which are just Bucky's letters and are insanely well-written.

7. to memory now I can't recall by Etharei

Time travel AU! Featuring post-CATWS Bucky accidentally switching places with CATFA era Bucky.

8. If Wishing Made It So by Leveragehunters (Monkeygreen)

Genie!Bucky AU! This author is great at writing AUs with fantasy/genre elements, it was hard to choose. They've also written an excellent werewolf!Steve AU and a horse!Steve AU that I really love.

9. Into That Good Night by Nonymos

An Interstellar AU! Very angsty and tragic but with an eventual happy ending.

10. Goodbye Piccadilly, Farewell Leicester Square by Speranza

Speranza must be one of the best writers in the fandom, so it was hard to pick just one of their fics. Other strong contenders were All the Angels and the Saints and The Fifties, so check those out too! But this one has a special place in my heart. Steve, Tony and Natasha accidentally time travel to WW2 London, leading to an accidental run-in with CATFA-era Bucky. The author does tragic and romantic time travel tropes so well, but with a happy ending.

I now realise that most of these are AUs, so here’s a bonus rec for a non-AU in-universe story that’s severely underrated and deserves more love:

+1

Heart, Have No Pity on this House of Bone by Sena

This story follows Bucky in-action in the Pacific Theatre. It’s very well written and, from what I can tell, well researched. Steve only appears in Bucky’s imagination and the story focuses on the horrors of war rather than romance, but it’s gripping! And it explores unrequited love, being closeted and period-typical homophobia, which I also enjoyed. I’m still holding out hope for a sequel.

[whetstonefires]

Japan was convinced a fight across the Pacific with the US for Imperial Domination was inevitable destiny, and by Japan I mean the Japanese fascist party mostly, though, you know, they were in control of the government.

The US was...not taking Japan seriously enough to return that estimation.

We didn't place belated oil sanctions on them in 1940 because we'd been planning to fight them the whole time. We'd have stopped selling them fuel a lot sooner if we'd reciprocated the nemesis drama!

Crazy how like 90% of the United States' involvement in WW2 stemmed from our competition with Japan for colonial conquests in the Pacific which happened to lead us into our only anti-fascist alliance in our entire history which was de facto abandoned before the war was even over for the more important goal of containing communism and this has been reframed in the decades since as "the United States beat the Nazis"

[tanadrin]

Imagine that a century or two from now, the eastern half of the United States is conquered by the Canadian Empire, its intelligentsia deported, its land colonized by Canadian immigrants, and its remaining people mostly gradually absorbed into a Neo-Canadian identity. The West reorganizes, developing a new political and cultural center, and comes to regard itself as the "true" United States, with the remnant culture of the East (by now much changed by Canadian rule) as representing an unchanged tradition stretching back to the time of George Washington. The holdout western half is subsequently conquered by the Reformed Mexican Empire, and while most of the population remains in situ, its elite is taken to Mexico City. There, for three or four generations, they do their best to maintain their distinct American identity, focusing on the American "civil religion," the distinctive political ideals and cultural features that mark them out as Americans, and come up with a new way of interpreting their history that allows America to be a perennial idea, something not directly physically tied to the territory of the United States, which no longer exists. They compose a body of historical works based on Washington Irving's rather fabulistic approach to early American history, the half-remembered popular versions of the stories of Columbus and the Pilgrims, the First Thanksgiving, even the Revolutionary War. They don't have access to the original texts anymore--let's say this is all taking place in a post-Collapse North America where long-range travel and communication is difficult and a lot of history has been lost--but they do their best. They append to these books, or include in their text, of history a copy of the Constitution, big chunks of the United States Code, and Robert's Rules of Order.

Subsequently, the Empire of Gran Columbia invades, conquers southern and central Mexico, and its Emperor lets the captive Americans go home. They return north, mostly to California, find that the version of American history and civics that is remembered there isn't the same as the version they have (not that the Californian one is correct--the Mexican Empire has suppressed English-language education and high culture in its Aztlani provinces), and set about reforming and reorganizing the Western States (as they're now called) to be more in line with the forms they brought back from the exile. In the meantime, other bits of important literature start being kept in libraries next to copies of the received histories: some bits of early American literature, like Hawthorne, the Song of Hiawatha, some highly abridged Herman Melville, Thomas Paine--heck, even some John Locke, and quotes or fragments from Shakespeare. Some traditionalists now argue the capital of the United States has always been located in San Francisco, and that Washington, D.C. only because the capital later, under the influence of Eastern heretics.

In the following centuries, the Western States retain their independence for a time, but eventually become a secondary battleground for a lot of other empires--the Mexicans, the Canadians, the Pan-Pacific Federation, and so forth. American culture remains distinctive, insulted in part by its unique traditions, though now everybody speaks Future Spanish, and only learns English to read the old texts. In this period additional material, including later compositions, continues to accrete, forming a distinct body of sacred American scripture, although it does not exist in a single canonical form. Attempts to reconcile distinct sources, like more literal and historically-grounded accounts versus the simplified narratives of figures like Irving, produce hybrid texts that sometimes are full of internal conflicts.

Oh, and through all this, some institutions of American government like the Supreme Court still function, although their rulings only apply to Americans, and there isn't much in the way of a federal bureaucracy.

Finally the Great and Sublime Brazilian Potentate conquers most of the Americas, sets up an American client state that roughly coincides with the heartland of the old Western States (California, Oregon, most of Washington and Nevada), and allows the Americans to elect their own President (subject, of course, to Brazilian approval). During this period, an apocalyptic street preacher from Los Angeles claims to have inherited the authority and power of George Washington, and is executed by the Brazilians; his later followers point to the prophecies of Emperor Norton, and out-of-context bits of a Quebecois translation of Moby-Dick and some Mark Twain stories to say no, really, he was George Washington. Inexplicably, a version of this religion becomes the dominant faith of the Brazilian Empire before it collapses. But long before then the American state in California fails, crushed when it tries to revolt against Brazilian rule; the remnant Easterners likewise dwindle down to only a few hundred souls living in a village in Alexandria, Virginia. Centuries from now, as the descendants of the descendants of the Brazilians colonize Mars, they will point to the sacred Americanist scriptures, the Neo-Americanist narratives of their prophet's life, and the letters written by the early leaders of Neo-Americanism, and say, "all of this was written by the spirit of George Washington, and is free from contradictions." Meanwhile the remnant Americanists, who have been writing about Americanism and how it applies to their everyday lives in the centuries since, and whose commentary has formed around the copies of the last editions of the U.S. Supreme Court Reporter (SCOTUS managed to outlast the final American state by a hundred years or so) plus the thoughts of the remaining Americanist community in Mexico, continue to regard their traditions as the unbroken and unaltered practice of American culture, politics, and ideals as they existed since the Revolutionary War.

This is, as far as I can tell, approximately how the Bible was composed.

[elbiotipo]

I'm not as well versed in the Philippines' history since I read this a long time ago, but the Philippines were taken from Spain as colonies after the US war with Spain in 1898. At the time, the Filipinos were already waging their own independence war against Spain. The Filipinos declared the First Philippine Republic in June 12 1899. However, the United States refused to accept it, which led to a bloody independence war that lasted decades, where the US military commited genocidal acts:

After World War II and the end of Japanese occupation, because of the obvious drag of holding a colonial possession of millions of people across the Pacific* during an era of decolonization, the US eventually "gave" the Philippines their independence in 1946 after World War II. The fact that they choose the 4th of July was not casual at all: they very much tried to imprint themselves, the former colonial power, as the gentle benefactors of a "daughter republic". There are INCREDIBLY racist cartoons of the US setting itself up as a "teacher" to its conquered nations, "preparing" them for self-determination.

This was a common practice by the US. I've read this in depth a long time ago and I'm sure you can find this in better detail elsewhere, but as the US was rising as an imperial power, it presented itself as an "Empire of Freedom", in suppossed contrast to the European powers, at the same time it did the same, if not worse (as shown in the Philipines) exploitation and crimes across the Pacific and Latin America. If they had could, they would have extended an entire plantation economy all around the Caribbean. Countless interventions testify this.

Of course the Philippines became independent, but it wasn't out of the benvolence of the United States. The US was perfectly willing and able to annex places on the Pacific. Of course you know about Hawai'i and Puerto Rico, which centuries after, still does not have self-determination. But how many Usamericans know about the "associated states" of Palau, Micronesia and the Marshall Islands, of the military bases at Guam? And let alone the countless genocides in the continental US in the name of manifest destiny.

Anyways. My point is, if you saw a post claiming the Philippines' independence was in the 4th of July, maybe you should have asked yourself why, exactly.

[thrashkink-coven]

Okay here’s the hard part.

I think a lot about that guy, so called Jesus, and his philosophy of radical forgiveness and empathy. For a long time I thought that was just a line abusers use to force their victims to forgive them (AND IT IS)

But! I also think about Lucifer and the things he taught me regarding the concept of hell. If I was the ruler of hell and I had to manage all these terrible people, what would I do? Torture them? Give them endless suffering so they feel guilty? Do to them what they did to others so they can understand how bad it feels?

Latinos who voted for Trump, oh you disappoint me, but no, I don’t want you to be deported. Women who voted for Trump, *sigh*, no, I don’t want to see you get an ectopic pregnancy or carry your dead baby. No I do not want all those conservative gays to lose their right to marriage. And no, I don’t even want all of those fucked up fascist nazi racists to die.

It would be SO satisfying to see them get what they deserve, right?

God, I’m so sick of being apart of a species that loves to conquer. We bleed, they win, they bleed, we win. I’m sick of patching wounds. All I see is hellfire.

My friend Taylor Mcnallie is facing fraudulent charges because of an altercation that happened while she was protesting in Calgary. The bitch of a cop who assaulted her not only received no punishment, she got a fucking promotion. I remember during one of Taylor’s speeches someone said something like “I hope she gets arrested and goes to jail,” and Taylor said, “I don’t hope she goes to jail. Jail shouldn’t exist. I just want her to get fired and apologize. That’s all I want.”

Pacifism, true pacifism, like the kind that guy preached about, doesn’t mean laying down and accepting every terrible thing assholes do to you with a smile. It means taking away their ability to harm without harming them yourself. Eliminating the evil without becoming evil. Punching nazis does not make you a nazi, but praying for the death and destruction of people, human beings, because you hate them as much as they hate you? *sigh*

The hardest part about this whole radical empathy thing, is the fact that I cannot even wish harm upon those who want me dead. Isn’t that funny? That literal neo nazi, yeah, I hope he has shelter. Fuck I hope that rapist still eats tonight. I hope he feels shame until the day he dies, but I don’t hope he gets raped in prison. I don’t even want him in prison to be honest, I want him to be cared for, and I want his ability to do harm stripped away.

“Even if he hurts a child?”

God damn it, yes. I can’t add more suffering into the world, even if it is inflicted upon the people I’d love to hate most. I want to take away his power to do evil, I want everyone to know what kind of person he is and the terrible things he does so they can keep themselves safe… and then I want him to be safe.

I want all those terfs to have clean drinking water. I know they hate my guts, ugh, it is what it is. But praying that they experience the pain they’ve caused me, hoping that they die or suffer only makes me more like them.

WHICH SUCKS. This way of thinking is NOT satisfying AT ALL!!! Being vindictive and petty is FUN and it FEELS GOOD!!! That’s why it’s so fucking easy, and that’s why we keep eating each other over and over again.

Having said all of this, we should definitely bring back the guillotine lmao. I’m not saying that we should be super nice to people who are trying to kill us, do fight back. If the people need to kill their oppressors to be free then, hey, I’m not going to tell them they’re wrong for that. This isn’t a “we should all hug and sing kumbaya together! Kindness is always the way!!!” take. If the only way to bring death to the empire is to bring death to its owners, then so be it. Do so in the way that produces the least amount of degradation to your soul.

But wishing natural disasters on Texas, hoping that that racist woman’s parents get deported, out of spite and hatred… what are they doing to you? What are you doing to yourself?

Humanity is disgusting, truly truly abhorrent. I want to be able to look at us and embrace us with acceptance of that. Every single fucking terrible person on this earth deserves liberty, life, and freedom. Even when you spit in my face and hurt the people I love, damn it, I won’t hurt you. I see you as a rabid animal that needs to be sedated and slowly acclimated to compassion. And I will keep trying, even if you never learn. I can’t give up on humanity.

This is the most important and the hardest part. I’m not telling you to forgive, forgiveness is for you. If it doesn’t serve you, don’t forgive. But don’t let people without humanity kill the humanity that exists within you. Don’t let hatred fester in your soul. You’re allowed to be mad, hell, you should be furious. Let that fury keep you warm, but do not become a monster too.

To all you stupid fucking fascist pieces of shit, I hope you get exactly what you deserve. And what you deserve is not death, pain or suffering. It’s self reflection and growth, guilt and humility. As much as I would enjoy seeing you hurt, I refuse to become like you. And damn it I love you, I love every human being on this planet. I love you so much that I cannot become you. I love you so fucking much that I will continue to fight for your rights even when you’re trying to take mine away. and I hate that I love you like this, but I can’t stop.

So I will stop you.

- James Baldwin

[princesssarcastia]

bold of you to say "draft dodger" like it's something derogatory?

Satine Kryze should not be a sympathetic character.

A complex and tragic one? Sure. Every day of the week.

But she did not 'have a point', neither in-universe, not outside of the sw framework. She isn't a hero, neither of her own story, nor of someone else's. There is no way she wasn't a tool. You should not look at her and think 'this woman has done nothing wrong and what ultimately happened to Mandalore was to no part her fault'.

Because guys. Friends. Strangers on the interwebs.

Pacifism doesn't work.

And it certainly wouldn't have worked in motherfucking Star Wars – the 'wars' is literally in the title – for a system or series of systems who wanted to stay neutral.

YOU DON'T STAY NEUTRAL FOR LONG BY JUST SAYING 'YEAH, NO THANKS <3' TO A LARGE-SCALE CONFLICT.

source: I am Swiss, we've looked at this in history class. Extensively.

Satine was a dreamer (thanks Obi-Wan) who was allowed to keep her delusions because they actively benefitted Palpatine's plans. And that's something you can quote me on. There is literally no other reason (apart from supremely bad writing but we'll leave that aside here) for her and her little friends' 'Alliance of Neutral Systems' or whatever to be allowed to exist.

Not that they were neutral in any way, shape or form, by the way.

So yeah sorry to the Satine stans, but you're idolizing a character that was written exclusively and specifically for Obi-Wan's manpain and who, in-universe, was a supremely bad politician. Because the level of mental dissonace needed to factually be a Republic System, have a seat in the fucking Republic Senate, rely upon their military for aid while actively proclaiming that All Violence Is Bad And Barbaric one sentence later AND THEN CLAIM TO BE NEUTRAL IN THE WHOLE CONFLICT – it's just mind-blowing. Even moreso that people actually look at this character and see something aspirational in her.

Again, I'll gladly dissect her character any day of the week. She is fascinating because of all the implications her existence as a head of state carries with it, as well as her deeply complicated family history and her relation to mandalorian culture.

But it just grates on me personally that that all gets ignored in favor of her being some sort of icon of white american saviorism (bc that's literally what she is) and her objectively bad political takes being treated like they are the only correct stance to be taken during the Clone Wars/Mandalorian Civil Wars.

If you think pacifism works and actually lets you stay neutral, I desperately urge you to open a history book. Because those two are mutually exclusive. Especially in the scenario that Star Wars paints.

[whereserpentswalk]

Select an alternate universe to study abroad in for a semester. You'll be sent there with a new body that matches inhabitants of that realm. Little to no time will pass in your world, as time between dimension is entirely diffeent. Wherever you choose to go you won't be known to be from another dimension unless you tell people.

1- an endless forest made of massive trees, so tall no mortal soul has seen the ground or the unobstructed sky. The sentient races of this world consist of slender owl like humanoids, various insectoid races, short squat mushroom people, and a minority of rodent like creatures who live further down the trees. Technology in this world is as advanced as ours, but the aesthetics are more similar to our Victorian age. They say this world's heaven is deep above the trees, and this world's hell is deep below it, with each culture's religion having its own version of God/gods above an devils in the forest floor (outside of the mushroom people, who worship gods below.)

2- an endless system of volcanic caves and tunnels that demons and fallen angels come from. This realm is vast, and is ruled over by countless lords and kings, some truly evil, some merely strange. Demons and fallen angels come is countless forms, most looking somewhat humanoid, though with strange and unnatural distortions, from animal like parts to things humans would find much more horrifying. This is one of the few realms listed where they know what earth is, but they don't know much about it outside of myth.

3- an alternate earth where mythical creatures such as vampires, werewolves, deep ones, dragons, and witches exist. It also has a population of demons and faeries who came over generations ago. While they were in hiding for many millennium, they've now taken over most of earth, with humans being removed or conquered in some regions, and peacefully integrated into others. Though in both cases they are now a minority.

4- a version of earth that's both flat and entirely endless, with many sun's carving safe warm zones in the ice. Even with 21st century technology new lands are still being explored. Most social problems still exist, but things are looking a bit more hopeful, and the world's slightly nicer to live in. Cryptids, gods, magic and the afterlife are all proven to exist, even if humanity doesn't know much about them. Human bodies here naturally trend twords looking however the person inside them wants to look, and sexual attraction and pleasure don't exist.

5- an alternate earth where the kpg mass extinction never occurred. Dinosaurs remained dominant but kept evolving, leading to a sapient race eventually emerging from raptors. The raptors are currently at a similar technology level as us, though due to how they're mind works they've spent more time developing computers and mathematics than they have any other field of technology. Also don't mind the obelisk in the pacific ocean, nobody there knows what it does or who put it there either, and we won't put you anywhere near it.

6- a world filled with giant monsters of all kinds, some looking like massive dragons or Chimeras, others looking like more strange and colorful creatures. Though some animals are smaller, the smallest intelligent creatures are the size of bears, and the largest are much bigger than blue whales. Technology is limited in some regards, mostly as the inhabitants don't always need it.

7- the world of the faeries, strange and complex, and both terrifying and beautiful. Very little is known about this realm other than the strange and often dangerous creatures who come from this place. If you go here it's likely you will remember very little and enjoy very much.

8- a universe where humanity is completely isolated to spaceships and space stations, most of them the size of cities. Humans here are grown artificially, and have completely androgynous bodies that lack biological sex, and most of them combine their bodies with mechanical upgrades becoming cyborgs. Most humans never touch a planet, and those who do don't stay there for long. There are a few alien species with planetary civilizations, but almost all of them are strange and eldrich. Technology is incredibly advanced compared to ours, and quality is life is better. Most humans consider AI taboo, though normal computers are fine and commonplace.

9- a world where humans are entirely missing, but every species of mammal is sapient and humanoid. Birds and reptiles pick up the pace of animals in the ecosystem, as the mammals have created a global civilization. Though magic doesn't exist here, and technology is around a 21st century level, the quirks of each species have created a lot of situations impossible in our world. Though several nations exist, the main powers of the world consist of a group of powerful corporations, an ancient secret society, and the church of the dead gods, all of whom are locked in a cold war, that luckily keeps the nations of this world at peace.

10- a massive city, floating in the void, surrounded by eldritch horrors. Countless humanoids have made their homes in the city, most hailing from diffrent dimensions themselves, but permanently stuck here. Though many races here could pass for humans, none of them truly are, from the sirenia who have wings for arms and hands for feet, to the modutal who can take parts of their bodies off and swap them with other members of their race, to the subterranean vamire who eat raw meat and have albino skin, to the hyven whose minds are each split between two to five bodies. It's estimated between fifty to a hundred humanoids call the city home.

11- the abyss. Do not attempt to enter the abyss. We cannot assure your safety.

[petalsthefish]

RIPTIDE

Read on A03 for July @jilychallenge prompt: surfing lessons and sexy wetsuits. This oneshot was too long and is now a three chapter story, so enjoy!!!

Summary: Nothing gets between Lily Evans and her board. Living near the beach with two roommates including her naggy older sister, she is up before dawn every morning to conquer the waves and count the days until the Morro Bay surf competition. Lily finds all she needs in the surf scene ... until pro quarterback James Potter comes along. Like it or not, Lily starts losing her balance - and finding it - as she falls for James.

“Don’t drift out too far!” Petunia’s voice mixed with the seagulls, “I’m not coming after you if you get sucked into a riptide!”

“You worry too much,” Lily shouted over her shoulder.

The ocean was an expanse of endless blue, wild and breathtakingly beautiful. She could lie on her board forever, drifting with the tide, staring out over the white-capped, ruffled waves. Occasionally, an otter would drift by, its serene presence contrasting with the sight of a dolphin’s fin cutting through the water. The waves were terrible for surfing that day but perfect for slipping away into her thoughts.

Her fingers swirled through the water as she hummed her favorite song from the radio that week. Her legs kicked up behind her, waving in the wind, her white-painted toes dipping into the water playfully every few minutes. Her red hair was unbound, the hair tie long retired to her wrist, allowing the ends to soak in the salt water. A heavy but contented sigh escaped her lips as she rolled onto her back, her gaze shifting from the ocean blue to the sky blue.

Lily Evans was born in California after her father moved to San Diego for his military career. Her early years were filled with the scent of plumeria and the sound of the ocean. But when her mother died, her father left the military and, unable to cope with the loss, left the world a few months later. He’d left sixteen year old Lily in the care of her older sister. Petunia and Lily couldn’t have been more different—Petunia was practical and grounded, while Lily was a dreamer with a love for the ocean.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, its rays reflecting off the water, Lily noticed Petunia and Marley waving from nearby where they floated with their boards. The carefree moments of drifting were over; the wave meant it was time to face the responsibilities of the day. Lily sighed, knowing she couldn't delay any longer. The ocean, her refuge, would have to wait. She paddled back towards the shore, her heart heavy with the weight of reality pressing in once more.

"Come on, Lily," Petunia nagged as Lily leisurely paddled over to the girls. "We can’t be late again!”

"Yeah, yeah," Lily rolled her eyes, but picked up her pace because she knew they needed the job for the money.

Petunia was the oldest of the three girls, the skinniest, and always clad in her six-year-old one-piece and purple and black wetsuit. The purple clashed with Petunia’s dirty blonde hair and over-tanned, reddened face, but Petunia was a creature of habit. She’d wear the wetsuit to pieces if she had too.

"Come on," Petunia urged, practically racing for the shore, her thin arms carving through the water.

"Petunia we’re coming as fast as we can," Marley huffed, paddling in front of Lily but directly behind Petunia. "Chill, please, or I’m sneaking pot into the brownies this weekend."

Marlene, the youngest by only a month as she constantly reminded Lily, had curly black hair, thick expressive brows, and a beautiful golden tan. She was undeniably the hottest one, she got all the guys, even the ones she didn’t want. Marley only wore a bikini today, absolutely taking advantage of the warmer weather even though the pacific was still cold.

"One day I’ll bring home the big bucks and we won’t even have to ever leave the water," Lily shouted after them playfully, “I’ll have maids cook and clean for us all day so we can just surf.”

If Lily looked in a mirror, she'd see a face covered in freckles from her time in the sun. Her red hair was her statement piece, attracting attention and making her look more like she’d stepped out of Ireland than California. Her cropped rashguard was doing little to protect her from the sun or the waves, but she liked to show off the abs she’d worked so hard to get.

"Come on!" Petunia exclaimed, "I've seen children swim faster than you two!"

The girls reached the shore just as the first tourists started to arrive, equipped with their sunglasses and lawn chairs. Other locals were clearing out, unwilling to deal with tourists taking over the beach and sandbars. Lily wiped down her board, then began peeling off her rashguard, the fabric clinging stubbornly to her wet skin like a banana peel.

They didn’t have a car, but they managed to hitch a ride in Alex Graff’s truck, which took them halfway to the resort just up the beach. In Lily’s opinion, the resort was the nicest on Morro Bay. Built only ten years ago, its sleek design featured walls of glass that reflected the ocean and gave it a modern, luxurious appearance. As they approached, the building seemed to sparkle in the sunlight, but Lily dreaded heading inside because it meant it was time to work.

Being a cleaning lady in hotel rooms hadn’t been on her list of ‘most impressive jobs to have’ but it paid for the expensive shack on the other side of town where the girls lived together. The rest of the money went into maintaining her board, surfing competition fees, and what food money was left over. The girls tumbled into the staff locker rooms, pulling their maid outfits from the lockers as they laughed and ate apples Marley had nicked from the breakfast lounge.

“I’m going out with Vernon Dursley again tonight,” Petunia said as she pulled the gray dress over her body, her wet hair staining the fabric.

“Ew, that toolbag from Piper Tech Industries?” Lily wrinkled her nose. “Petty, you can do so much better.”

Petunia shrugged. “He’s making six figures a year, Lily, and one of us needs to marry well.”

Lily tossed her bikini top at her sister. “You act like I’m going to marry some slum.”

“Your last boyfriend was Raymond from the post office,” Marley sang from her locker, “and he’s as slummy as they come.”

Lily flipped Marley off while Petunia laughed. It was rare for those two to gang up on Lily. Usually, it was the other way around, and Lily hated it when it happened. Despite her frustration, she couldn’t help but admire Petunia’s determination and practicality. Petunia always had a knack for thinking ahead and making choices that secured a stable future, even if Lily didn’t always agree with her decisions.

Last week Lily had been forced to get an expensive plan B from the Wal Mart in the next city over because she’d let a stranger at a bar fuck her without a condom. Meanwhile, Petunia was on date number five with the IT guy from Piper technologies and they hadn’t even kissed yet.

Lily and Petunia were not the same.

The girls were stationed on the second floor, where there was currently an influx of professional football players enjoying the spa and amenities during the off-season. They were from the team in San Francisco, but Lily didn’t know much more than that. The only sport she cared about was surfing. Even as she started making beds, her eyes wandered to the window panes, constantly drawn to the sight of the ocean.

In just two weeks, the championship surfing competition would be held in Morro Bay. Despite training hard for the last year, Lily felt totally unprepared. She knew she could surf, and surf well, but she was so concerned that once she was up against the real professionals, Petunia would force her to give up her dream of going pro and make her focus on college instead. The pressure was immense. She felt torn between her love for surfing and the expectations placed upon her. Every wave she caught in practice carried the weight of her aspirations, and every wipeout felt like a step further from her dream.

"Hey, this room left us a tip!" Marley called from the bathroom, holding up a hundred-dollar bill where they could see it.

"What?" Lily and Petunia gasped, racing over to Marley to stare at the bill.

"Are you sure they didn't just forget it?" Petunia asked worriedly, snatching the crisp bill from Marley's fingertips. "I mean, this is a lot of money."

Marley shrugged, a grin spreading across her face. "I found it tucked under the soap dispenser. Doesn't look like an accident to me."

Lily's eyes widened, and she glanced around the room, half-expecting someone to burst in and reclaim the money. "This is crazy. Do people usually tip this much?"

"Not in my experience," Petunia said, still holding the bill like it might disappear any second. "But maybe these football players are just really generous."

"Or really messy," Marley laughed. "Maybe it's a bribe for not complaining about the state they left the rooms in yesterday."

"The rooms were pretty disgusting yesterday," Lily agreed, "I still can't decide if that was blood or ketchup on the walls."

All the girls shuddered then Petunia said, "This room wasn't bad at all this week, though."

“This room has been the nicest out of all of them so far,” Lily agreed. "Either way, it's a nice surprise. We should split it."

Petunia hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah, you're right. But let's be careful. If anyone asks, we found it and turned it in."

"Agreed," Marley said, her grin widening. "But we’re eating steak this weekend, ladies.”

The other rooms down the long hall hadn’t been quick cleans, and none of them had left any tips to keep them motivated. By the time they reached the last room, Lily was eager to be finished. She leaned against the solid wood door and knocked politely.

“Housekeeping!” she called out. When there was no response, she knocked again and raised her voice. “Housekeeping!”

When there was no answer, Lily pushed the door open and was immediately hit with a wave of unpleasant odors. She quickly covered her nose, her eyes stinging and watering, as she forced the door open wider. The sight that greeted her almost made her gag.

The room was a complete disaster. Clothes were strewn haphazardly across the floor, and half-eaten food was scattered on the sofa and beds. Empty beer bottles were littered everywhere, adding to the mess. To make matters worse, there were visible signs of someone having thrown up, with streaks and splatters of vomit on the carpet and furniture. The entire room reeked of stale beer and something far more foul.

“Oh hell no,” Marlene exclaimed, peering over Lily’s shoulder. “There’s no way I’m touching this.”

Petunia covered her nose and added, “We don’t have a choice, guys.”

“This is the worst I’ve seen in ages,” Lily said, stepping over a pizza box filled with half-eaten slices.

“Football players are gross,” Marley complained, carefully tiptoeing around the mess.

“This is just awful,” Lily agreed, her eyes watering from the stench. “I can barely stand it.”

“Come on Lily,” Petunia urged, trying and failing to look undisturbed, “help me make the bed.”

Lily walked over, with Marley trailing closely behind her, preparing to grab the other side of the white sheets that desperately needed a good cleaning. Suddenly, Marley cried out behind her, as if she was in pain. Lily spun around, expecting to find her friend nursing a bloody foot from a broken beer bottle. Instead, she saw Marley hopping up and down with a piece of plastic stuck to her foot.

“Get it off, Lily!” Marley pleaded, collapsing against the wall—one of the only clean spots in the room. She held her foot up and cried, “Ew, ew! It's stuck! It won’t come off!”

“What is it?” Petunia called from the other side of the bed.

Lily wrinkled her nose and grimaced. “Oh gross, it’s a condom.”

“Please, get it off!” Marley begged, hopping in place.

“Hold your foot still!” Lily snapped at Marley, pulling her gloves up higher on her wrists.

With a shudder, Lily peeled the condom off, her entire body crawling with revulsion at the thought of why it was so stiff.

Marlene slumped, as if she was defeated. ‘Fuck men.”

“I’ve had enough of this, we are not their mothers.” Lily grabbed the small trash can from the desk, acutely aware of Petunia and Marley’s anxious gazes as she headed for the door.

Petunia noticed the wild look in Lily’s eyes and warned, “Lily—”

Lily’s voice was tight with frustration as she snapped, “No,” without turning around. “I’m not touching this room, and I’m going to let the guest know why.” She strode purposefully to the elevator, her footsteps echoing her determination, while Marley and Petunia’s desperate pleas faded behind her.

Ignoring their calls, Lily exited the elevator and pushed through the back door of the resort. Stepping onto the beach, she was met with the mingled sounds of laughter, chatter, and waves lapping at the shore. Her shoes sank into the warm sand, and the salty breeze stung her cheeks as she scanned the area, searching for someone to blame for the mess she had just left behind.

Raising her voice above the ambient noise, she called out, "Is anyone from room 215 here?"

When no one responded, she made her way down the beach toward a group of men lounging on lawn chairs. She locked eyes with a hazel-eyed man wearing a maroon and gold baseball cap. His charming smile momentarily distracted her, but she forced herself to speak.

"Gentlemen, room 215?" she asked.

The hazel-eyed man glanced at the condom in her hand and the trash can in her other hand, his gaze lingering on the latter. "Nope," he replied, his eyes shifting back to her. “You okay?”

“Fine.” Before he could say more, she turned and headed toward the water's edge. "Is anyone from room 215 out here in the water?"

“What?” a pudgy young man in a white tank top shouted from his floating noodle.

“Suite 215? Is it yours?” Lily called out to him.

She could feel the eyes of onlookers behind her, their curiosity piqued. She tapped her foot on the sand, maintaining a face of cool, formal disgust—her best customer service expression. The man stumbled onto the shore like a clumsy sea lion, nearly colliding with her. She stepped back, keeping her composure.

“I’m in 215. What’d I win?” he asked with a grin.

“Hi, I’m Lily, the housekeeper for your rooms during your stay here at the resort,” she replied.

“Peter,” he said, still grinning.

“Do you have a sec, Peter?” she asked.

“Sure,” he said in a sleazy tone. “Take all the time you want, sugar-whooger.”

Lily bit back the urge to kick him where it would hurt. She lifted the condom she was holding into the air, and his eyes, along with everyone else’s in the vicinity, followed its trajectory. “Step one,” she said. Then she dropped the condom into the trash can she was carrying. “Step two.” She flashed a sickly sweet smile. “Got it, sugar?”

His friend, still in the water, burst into laughter. “You got schooled by the maid.”

Peter stuttered, “I’m on vacation. You don’t have to clean your own room on vacation…”

“You’re cleaning your room today, buddy,” Lily warned, “and every day after until you leave.”

“That's ridiculous–”

Lily gave him a crisp salute before turning on her heel. As she walked back up the sand, she caught the eye of the handsome man. He was sitting up, the sun gleaming off his tanned chest. She felt her stomach lurch when he smiled at her with a fucking look that promised her a good time if she stopped.

“Most people are scared to talk like that to our linebacker.” He said loudly enough that she couldn’t ignore his piercing gaze.

“I’m not afraid of anyone,” she responded with a small, mocking bow.

“Wait! Can I take you out for a drink?” he called after her retreating form.

“I’m too busy cleaning up your friends’ messes,” she replied, continuing on her way.

"Ouch." But he laughed a deep, pleasurable laugh that would make her toes curl if she heard it in private.

Whispers followed her from behind, “Don’t waste your time on her, she'd just a maid.”

"She's going to be in so much trouble."

Lily heard one of the girls that worked the bar who saw the whole encounter add, “Lily’s made grown men cry before.”

“My kind of woman.” Lily felt her cheeks reddened and she glanced back to see hazel eyes following her up the beach with interest.

Lily trudged back to the resort, her steps heavy as the weight of her confrontation sank in. That guest was furious and would likely report her to management. She wondered why she had let her temper get the best of her again. When she got back upstairs, Petunia and Marley were waiting for her with disapproving looks.

“What did you do?” Petunia asked, her voice faint.

“I took care of it,” Lily replied, placing the trash can in front of the door. “That guy will clean his own room.”

“You’d better not get fired,” Petunia hissed. “Rent is due, and we still have to come up with the extra two hundred for the Morro competition.”

“Lay off her, Pet,” Marley said. “She was only trying to help.”

Lily let the girls bicker, staying silent to avoid getting dragged into the argument.

As Lily wrapped up her work processing sheets in the basement, she found Mrs. Thompson, the maid supervisor, waiting by her locker with an air of stern disapproval. Petunia and Marlene stood behind Thompson, shaking their heads at Lily as if to warn her not to make any sudden moves. Word must’ve gotten around then, probably because of the gossip beach bar babes.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Mrs. Thompson’s voice was cold and accusatory. “That display on the beach was completely unprofessional.”

Lily shifted uncomfortably, her cheeks flushed. “It was disgusting. Did you see their room?”

“They are VIP guests!” Mrs. Thompson cut her off sharply. “They don’t pay good money to be lectured by a housekeeper about hygiene!”

“But there was vomit all over the floor!” Lily protested, her voice rising slightly.

Mrs. Thompson’s eyes narrowed with frustration. “And making a scene in front of other guests is how you handle it? What you did was completely out of line. You can pick up your final paycheck next week.”

Lily bit her lip, struggling to keep her composure. “I’m sorry. I just…”

“You’re fired, Evans.” Mrs. Thompson sighed, leaning back in her chair. Her expression softened slightly, but remained resolute. “You need to learn to manage your frustrations more professionally.”

Lily noticed Petunia angrily hissing into Marlene’s ear but forced her gaze back to Mrs. Thompson. “Please, we really need the money.”

“You should have thought about that before antagonizing a paying guest,” Mrs. Thompson said firmly. “Goodbye, Evans.”

With tears threatening to spill, Lily slammed her company card down on the bench, and stormed out of the locker room. She walked out to the back, where her surfboard stood propped against the wall alongside Petunia's and Marley's boards. The pink color was bright and horribly offensive (according to Petunia), but Lily had saved up all her money to buy it three years ago. It was supposed to get her to nationals in Hawaii after she won at the Morro Bay competition.

Right now, it felt like her saving grace.

Ignoring the fact that it was a private beach, she grabbed her board and walked for the water. Her little maid uniform rode up at her hips as she walked fast, aiming for the sea. She kicked her shoes off as she went, not even bothering to even untie them. The football players were in the middle of a beach volleyball game, and she caught the eye of the handsome black-haired boy again.

He offered half a wave from where he stood at the back of the pack.

She quickly looked away and leaped into the water, then onto her board.

She thought she heard Petunia chasing her from up the beach, but she didn’t want a lecture. Especially not a Petunia lecture. Paddling out, she made it to the break and caught the first wave she could. As she stood up, a feral laugh escaped her, mingling with the crash of the waves. Salty water fell behind her in the barrel, mixing with her tears.

No job. No security. Just the relentless pull of the ocean, offering a brief escape from the reality waiting on shore.

She considered letting the silver-white foam of the waves take her under. It would be easier than facing the earful waiting for her once Petunia got ahold of her. Ever since their dad had left, and Petunia had gotten sole custody, she’d taken the role of ‘big sister turned mother’ a little too seriously sometimes. Right now, Lily couldn’t bear one of those lectures, where Petunia somehow morphed into a perfect blend of their mom and dad.

Lily stayed out on the water longer than the football players stayed on the beach. By the time she abandoned the waves, the beach was mostly clear, save for a few families who had appeared once the men had gone. Lily barely noticed that her maid uniform was ripped up the side, revealing the curve of her hip. She was half-ready to rip the damn thing off.

She made her way up to the double doors, preparing to get her stuff out of her locker, when she remembered that she’d left her entry card inside… and her regular clothes. With a hiss of frustration, she let her forehead fall against the door, her hand pushing at the handle out of sheer hope.

“Are you alright?” a voice asked, laced with humor behind her.

Lily, her face burning with humiliation, turned around and found herself face to face with the hot guy from the beach. Gone were the straightforward views of his hazel eyes; now they were hidden behind a pair of sleek sunglasses. His baseball cap, which had shadowed his features before, was missing, allowing his jet-black hair to fall freely. He stood there confidently in nothing but gym shorts, his lean body perfectly sun-tanned and glistening in the sunlight.

"You," she blurted out, her voice a mixture of surprise and embarrassment.

"Me," he replied, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. Even with the sunglasses, she could sense the amusement dancing in his eyes. There was something infuriatingly attractive about his self-assured stance and the way he seemed to enjoy her presence.

She nervously tucked a strand of her fiery red hair behind her ear. "No, uh, sorry… just leaving."

Lily rounded the corner quickly, but the football guy was faster, following her down the side path with an easy, casual stroll.

"Nice surfing. I saw you out there," he said with a nod in her direction.

Lily felt her cheeks heat up. "Thanks," she muttered, unsure of what else to say. She quickened her pace, hoping to put some distance between them, but he easily kept up with her, his long strides matching her hurried steps effortlessly.

"Do you need help getting in?" he asked, gesturing towards the double doors she had just been leaning against.

She hesitated, her pride battling with her desperation. "No," she said firmly, glancing around the parking lot for a familiar car. Everyone had already left for the day. She'd have to walk back to the house, and the thought filled her with a sense of dread

"I'm James," he said, extending a hand towards her. "James Potter."

"Lily Evans," she nodded, shaking his hand briefly. His grip was firm, his palm warm against hers. Despite her initial irritation, she couldn't help but feel a spark of curiosity. What was he doing here, and why was he so interested in her?

"Are you waiting on someone, Lily Evans?" he asked, noticing her scanning the parking lot with a hint of desperation.

She sighed, letting her gaze fall on him again. "No, not unless you know someone who can drive me home."

"I can," he offered quickly.

"Yeah," she laughed darkly, "right."

"I'm not kidding," he said, his tone earnest. "Consider it a formal apology for my teammate. He's pretty disgusting, but he's the best linebacker we've got."

"Listen, no offense," she began, "I'm sure you're a great guy, but today’s been terrible, and I just want to get home so my sister can yell at me."

"You want your sister to yell at you?" he asked, a hint of confusion in his voice.

"It's bound to happen, so I might as well get it over with," she replied with a resigned shrug.

James raised his sunglasses away from his eyes so that they rested perfectly on his hair. “Why’s today terrible?”

“Your friend from room 215 got me fired today,” Lily said tersely. “He complained to my boss about the condom.”

A flicker of shock crossed James' face. “He did?”

“Yes,” she replied curtly. “So, forgive me if I’m not in the mood for flirting with guests.”

James ran a hand through his jet-black hair, looking genuinely pained. “Look, I’m really sorry about that. Please, let me help you. Do you need to talk to your boss?”

“No,” Lily said quickly, shaking her head. “I’m not looking for someone to swoop in and save me. I should have managed my temper better.”

James' expression softened, and his voice dropped to a more serious tone. “I saw that room. I ordered him not to come out until it was spotless again.”

Lily’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. “You did?”

“Yeah,” he said, nodding earnestly. “I didn’t realize the extent of the problem until after you left. I’m really sorry for what happened, I feel responsible for these guys; I am team captain after all. Let me make it up to you.”

“How?” Lily asked, her skepticism evident.

“You need money, I’m guessing?” he inquired. “Until you can get a new job?”

“I’m not having sex with you for money,” Lily said flatly.

“First of all,” James leaned in slightly, looking slightly hurt, “I’m disappointed that you think I’d pay anyone for that. Second, I was going to suggest something else entirely—surfing lessons.”

Taken aback, Lily raised an eyebrow, her surprise evident. “Why would a football player need surfing lessons?”

James shrugged, a small, genuine grin tugging at his lips. “I dunno. You made it look like so much fun, and I thought it might be a great way to improve my skillset.”

“Surfing lessons?” she repeated, disbelief coloring her voice. “You’re serious?”

James nodded, his expression sincere. “Absolutely. I’ll pay you one hundred dollars for private lessons, once a day, until the end of the month when I head back to training camp.”

Lily stared at him, trying to wrap her mind around the offer. “One hundred dollars a day? That’s more than I’m worth.”

And more than enough to finish paying for her slot in the Morro Bay surfing competition. Lily tried and failed to not look relieved, but she was, this was the best thing anyone could have asked her.

James chuckled, clearly pleased with her reaction. “I know it’s not what you expected, but it seems fair to me. My friend got you fired, and I can help you, so you don’t get an earful from your sister.”

Her eyes widened. “Well, this definitely wasn’t what I had in mind to escape her wrath. But if you’re serious, then sure, why not?”

“Great,” James said with a broad grin. “Let’s set up a time for our first lesson while I drive you home."

"Fine," she shifted her arm on her board as she started to follow him while joking, "but you have to promise not to fall in love with me."

He snorted and sent her a charged look before lowering his sunglasses back down. "Right. Whoever falls in love first, has to skinny dip in the ocean at midnight."

"I like my odds." She was rewarded with another one of his nice laughs.

Her odds weren't great.