#different options and what those options do?

[punkshort]

Swept Away: Season Two

Chapter One: Long Time, No Sea

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: You and Joel return to Fiji, and Tommy gives you the grand tour of the new hotel.

Chapter Warnings: language, fluff, wedding talk, smut (18+ MDNI), airplane sex, unprotected piv sex, light dom vibes, fingering, food and alcohol consumption, brief mention of OC substance abuse, possessiveness

WC: 6.7K

Series Masterlist

Eight Months Later

You breathed in a deep sigh as you scrolled through your emails in the back of the town car. It was pitch black outside as Richie drove you through the silent streets of Los Angeles to the airport, where Joel's private jet awaited your arrival.

"Don't be checkin' work now," Joel scolded from beside you. When your eyes shifted to him, you scoffed when you saw him doing the exact thing he told you not to do. He glanced up when he heard the noise and smirked.

"I got a company to run. You can relax a few hours til people are awake."

You rolled your eyes, chalking your attitude up to three hours of sleep and very little coffee, then stuffed your phone in your bag.

"It wasn't work, anyway."

"What was it?" he asked, sounding distracted.

"Wedding stuff," you shrugged, letting your gaze drift out the tinted window.

Joel put his phone in his lap and turned to you. "Nadia's buggin' you at this hour?"

Nadia was the highly recommended, very expensive wedding planner Joel had hired. She was wonderful: she had been in the business over ten years and had incredible taste. The problem you kept running into was the fact she was so goddamn detailed. She wanted your opinion on every possible thing, even down to the napkin rings, giving you at least ten different options, most of which looked exactly the same to you.

"I don't think she ever sleeps," you joked.

"What's she askin' 'bout now?"

"Fonts for the menus."

Joel shot you an incredulous look and you giggled. "It's a lot of work planning a wedding for over three hundred people."

"And you're doin' a great job," Joel assured you. "I'm sorry I haven't been able to help you more. I'm gonna be better-"

"No, no, it's fine," you said, cutting him off. But Joel shook his head and pocketed his phone before holding out his hand and wiggling his fingers.

"I'll pick the font. Lemme see."

"You want to pick the font for our dinner menu?" you squeaked. He grinned and nodded, hand still outstretched.

"Can't be that hard. Feels like somethin' I could handle."

You hummed and pulled your phone back out so you could bring up Nadia's email with the attached samples, then handed it over. You bit your lip when Joel squinted and tucked his chin into his chest before relenting and pulling out his glasses.

"You didn't need those to read your emails?"

"I need 'em 'cause all these damn fonts look exactly the same, baby," he murmured while his eyes scanned your screen for a few minutes. Finally, he huffed and shrugged his shoulders before picking one and holding it up. "How's that?"

"Edwardian Script," you read from your phone, then nodded. "Sure. I'll send it back to her."

"Unless you like somethin' else," he began.

"Nope, I love it," you told him as you typed out your reply to Nadia. Then you tucked your phone away and looked at him. "Besides, none of it really matters. I just want you."

Joel smiled and lovingly pinched your chin. "You got me. Always did." Then his lips brushed softly over yours and for a moment, all the stress that had been building up from work and wedding planning melted away.

"We're here, sir," Richie said from the front seat. You pulled away and peered through the front windshield at the dark tarmac where only Joel's plane sat, all lit up.

"You ready to open this damn hotel so we can have ourselves a wedding in a couple months?" Joel asked softly, fingers still stroking your jaw. You grinned and nodded before planting one more kiss on his lips.

"I'd marry you right here at the airport," you said, making him smile wide, "but Fiji does sound a little better, I guess."

Richie parked the town car and immediately jumped out to open your door. You took his hand and thanked him, shouldering your bag while Joel scooted out behind you and shook Richie's hand.

"Keep a good eye on the place."

"Will do, sir."

You threw your arms around Richie's neck and thanked him again with the promise to bring him and his wife something back from the island, then eagerly took Joel's hand so he could lead you to the plane.

A feeling of déjà vu came over you when you greeted the familiar looking pilot and crew. A lot had changed since the last time you found yourself boarding Joel's private jet to head off to paradise. You entered the cabin and dropped your bag on the couch with a tired sigh, hoping that this trip would be a lot less stressful than the last.

It was very early and you were beyond exhausted, so once the plane took off and you got the all clear to unbuckle your seatbelts, you made a beeline for the bedroom to curl up and rest. With a loud yawn, Joel followed, which was how you found yourself intertwined hours later.

When you cracked open one eye, you could tell from the beam of light desperately trying to break through around the circular covered windows that it was later in the morning. The sun had already risen high enough in the sky for it to be bright enough to wake you. It wasn't something you were used to; sleeping in. Even on the weekends, your body was so used to waking up that by seven at the latest, you were tossing and turning. But if you thought you were bad, Joel was worse. He was normally up before the sun. By the time you made your way downstairs, he was typically just leaving the home gym or eating breakfast. So to have him wrapped around you from behind still snoring softly in your ear while the sun shone brightly in the sky, your instinct told you to savor it.

You closed your eyes and leaned back into his hold, burrowing into his chest and soaking up his warmth. With the chaos of the wedding planning and the hotel on the brink of opening in just two weeks, life had been hectic. It was nice to have some time for just the two of you.

It was so peaceful, you nearly found yourself drifting back to sleep, but then you felt Joel's beard tickle your neck. Half a second later, he inhaled deeply and his arms flexed around your middle, tugging you slightly closer. A satisfied groan rumbled in his chest when he woke up enough to remember where you were, and then his lips grazed the side of your neck.

You giggled when his beard dragged across that sensitive spot behind your ear and you felt him smile against your skin.

"Mornin'."

You shuddered at his thick, sleep addled voice. "Good morning," you said sleepily. Your body felt boneless, muscles perfectly relaxed. "How much more time do you think we have?"

With a heavy sigh, Joel rolled back to tap a button on the nightstand behind him. Like magic, a small television quietly emerged from the depths of a dresser situated across the room. Then the screen lit up, showing a tiny airplane arcing over the ocean. On the side of the screen, stats were listed, including how much time was left on your flight.

"Got eight more hours," he said before pressing a soft kiss against your throat. You smiled and closed your eyes when his arms wrapped around you once again, pleased he wasn't in his usual rush to get up and check his phone. But then his hips bumped into you, giving away his arousal, and it dawned on you why he wasn't in a hurry that particular day.

"Do you have any ideas on how we can pass the time?" you asked breathlessly. His fingers began to toy with the hem of your sweatshirt, making you squirm under the covers. Without answering, his hand disappeared up your front. He slid slowly across your belly until he was cupping one breast in his palm, causing you to sharply suck in air through your nose when his thumb brushed over your nipple.

"No bra?"

"I had just rolled out of bed, remember?" you whispered. Joel made a pleased noise behind you before switching to your other breast.

"Can't wait to see you in those bikinis again," he said softly against your ear.

"You see me in bikinis all the time at home," you gasped, eyelids fluttering as he continued to tease you underneath your sweatshirt.

"Ain't the same. You're different at the beach. More relaxed." His lips grazed your shoulder and you whined. You hadn't even realized you were rolling your hips into his as he flicked and rolled your nipples until his other hand flattened out across your stomach to stop you. "You want it bad, huh?" he teased.

You pressed your lips firmly together and nodded. A sigh of relief broke free when he slipped his fingers past your waistband, dipping experimentally through your slit.

"Shit," he hissed, "you do want it bad."

"Joel," you moaned, hand reaching behind to curl around the back of his head. He slipped two fingers inside you, earning a gasp from you both, then slowly began to stretch you open. Every time he withdrew his fingers, he slid them up to your clit, circling it wetly once or twice before diving back inside. As the pressure between your legs grew, each leisurely swirl and thrust pushing you higher and higher, you began to search for his mouth over your shoulder. His lips collided with yours, tongues tangling messily in between your shared moans within the stillness of the cabin.

"Oh, that's it," Joel crooned against your mouth. Your hips were bucking into his hand, chasing your high with little moans that kept getting louder the faster his hand moved. "Give me one, then I'm gonna fuck you so good, you ain't ever gonna wanna leave this bed."

Your orgasm slammed into you, causing your back to arch away from his chest. There was something about the possessive tone in his voice, the authoritative command, assuring you he knew you better than you knew you. He knew what you liked and he knew what you needed. His steady hands were always in control, in every possible way. You loved taking care of him, but you'd be damned if you didn't love it when he took care of you, too.

When he felt your muscles relax and heard a contented sigh leave your lips, he was on you in the blink of an eye. With one quick roll, he had you face down. He reared back and tugged your pants down your legs, tossing them onto the floor before sliding your sweatshirt over your head while you just laid there, still soft and pliant from your climax.

His hands wrapped around your hips, pulling them up while your chest remained pressed against the bed. All at once, he slid his cock inside of you with a heavy groan. You had expected him to fuck you just like that: face resting on the sheets, ass up in the air for his taking, but to your surprise the flat of his hand pushed your lower back down to the bed.

A question formed on your lips but never reached the light of day because he began to move, destroying any chance at finding your voice. His legs bracketed yours, which had been pushed together and stretched straight underneath him, leaving just enough room for his cock to slide in and out of your cunt.

A strangled moan pushed itself past your lips, getting lost in the soft bedding. Joel flopped down, pressing his chest against your back, forearms planted on either side of your head. The angle was so intense and it was nearly impossible to move from the way his body formed a shell around you. All you could do was lie there and take it. Your fingers curled around the plush comforter while his hips rocked against you at a torturously slow pace, forcing you to feel every inch as he murmured filth into your ear.

"How's that, huh? Feel good? This what my girl needed? So full'a me, bet you feel it in your throat." His teeth sunk into your shoulder, pinching your skin at the same time as a particularly hard thrust. It finally made you cry out loud enough that it had him chuckling in your ear, "Flight crew's gonna hear."

It was the last thing on earth you cared about. The only thing that mattered, the only thing that existed was Joel and what he was doing to pull unfathomable amounts of pleasure from your body.

"S-so go-od," you stammered, eyes rolling to the back of your head while Joel continued to fuck you deeper than he ever had before. You must have looked like an absolute mess. Hair tangled from sleep, now spread out across your pillow in every which way. Eyes all glassy, jaw hung open while you struggled to breathe beneath him, but it wasn't his weight that was stealing all the air from your lungs. It was the slow drag of his cock, forcing you to just lie there and feel.

"I like you like this," Joel rasped in your ear. He began to move a little faster then, hips shifting and angling in such a way that it had your vision blurring and your pulse skyrocketing. "Can tell nothin' else is goin' on in that pretty head other than how good it feels when I'm fuckin' you. Am I right?"

You nodded while lifting your ass just the slightest bit. All you could smell was his skin, all you could feel was his warmth, all you could hear was his deep voice telling you how beautiful you were, how hard you worked and how nice it must feel to just relax and let him take care of you.

His palm slid across the top of your hand so your fingers could lace together, but when he felt the sharp sting of your engagement ring between his fingers, he smirked and started to fuck you a little harder. He fucking loved seeing that ring on your left hand again, but loved it even more that you wore the second ring on your right finger. Call him possessive, crazy... whatever, he didn't care. It could not be any fucking clearer who you belonged to now.

Just then, the airplane hit a small patch of turbulence. The shifting in the cabin caused him to drive his cock deeper inside you, making you gasp and cry out his name.

"Shh, baby," he chuckled, but he kept moving. Your other hand reached back, grabbing a handful of his messy curls, tugging him down into the crook of your neck. His mouth immediately got to work, sucking and biting at the skin there until he left little bruises.

It was overwhelming, to say the least. He was everywhere. His body completely covered yours, trapped between him and the bed, cock buried so deep you weren't sure you would be able to walk out of the room when he was done. And just when you thought you couldn't take any more, his lips left your neck to find your mouth, plunging his tongue past your teeth with a groan you felt vibrate against your back.

Your entire body began to shudder when you felt it. That pool of pleasure that had been slowly filling back up was about to overflow. You tried to warn him, but words were hard to come by. Fortunately, his mouth was still seared over yours when it happened.

You might have said his name, or maybe you were just cursing, but either way you knew you were definitely screaming because by the time your orgasm finished crashing over you, your throat felt raw and you were panting for air against his mouth like you had just run a marathon.

"Good girl," he whispered before lifting his head back up. You were grateful for it, the chance to breathe fresh air even while he rammed into you mercilessly for about thirty more seconds, until his body went rigid and he gasped your name, spilling himself deep inside you.

Joel pulled out and sat up, causing your eyes to widen from the sudden loss, and he flipped you back over. His hand caressed your face gently, swiping away tears you didn't even realize were there, as he examined you closely.

"You alright? Was it too much?"

His chest was heaving and his cock was still hard between his legs. He hadn't even given himself a chance to enjoy his release and soften inside you before checking on you.

"I'm good," you rasped, throat still hoarse. Your shaky hand came up to cup his. "Promise. I'm good. Just - holy shit," you whispered, letting your eyes slide closed so you could melt back into the mattress. Joel laughed once he was satisfied you were telling the truth and collapsed next to you.

"You hungry?" he asked casually while unplugging his phone. He bent one leg as he studied the screen, completely naked and unbothered while you were still waiting for your limbs to stop shaking.

"Where on earth do you find the energy?" you asked. His eyes found yours and he shrugged.

"I slept in."

You scoffed and shook your head in disbelief before turning to sit up and gather your clothes. "I'm gonna go wash up," you told him. He made a little noise of acknowledgement as you staggered into the bathroom. When you caught sight of your reflection, you twisted your face in disgust and began to quickly get to work, hoping to make it look a little less like you just had the life fucked out of you before entering the main cabin.

Since you were only a few hours away from landing, you decided to slip on the white linen dress you had picked out. With two fucking rings on your hands, you decided to keep accessories to a minimum and instead just slipped a pair of sunglasses into your purse for later before timidly opening the bedroom door in search of Joel.

As you expected, he was sitting at the table typing away on his laptop. You frowned when you saw he had changed his clothes to a casual short sleeved button down and relaxed khakis.

"Didn't you want to take a shower first?" you asked, sitting across from him. He smirked and shook his head, eyes still glued to the computer screen.

"Nope."

His gaze lifted quickly and he shot you a wink. You laughed and dug around in your duffel bag for a book to read, deciding work could wait.

"What's the plan when we get there?" you asked, leaving your worn paperback on the table in front of you, then reached for a cold bottle of water from the cup holder by the window.

"Tommy's meetin' us at the airport," Joel said, abandoning the keyboard and leaning back into his chair. "He's gonna take us to the hotel. Ain't ready for guests just yet but we're gonna stay in the presidential villa. Wanna take her for a test drive, see if anythin's missin'."

"So, we get the whole hotel to ourselves?" you asked, wiggling your eyebrows. Before Joel could respond, a flight attendant emerged from the galley with two plates of covered food. You both made room on the table and she placed them down in front of you.

"Is there anything else I can get you?" she asked.

"No, we're all set," you said, looking up to give her a friendly smile. Joel agreed and she quickly made her way back into the kitchen, and it was only then you realized she had been unable to look either of you in the eye.

"You don't think they heard us, do you?" you whispered. Joel had already begun eating, but around a mouthful of chicken he gave you a look and slowly nodded.

"You weren't exactly quiet, baby," he reminded you.

Your eyes widened and your face instantly grew hot. Pressing your palms against your cheeks, you shook your head and groaned.

"Oh my god, tell me you're joking."

Joel just laughed and took another bite of food. "None of their goddamn business, who cares?"

"I care!"

"Then next time I'll just have to put somethin' in that pretty mouth of yours to keep you quiet."

Your ears burned and you gently swatted at him from across the table, making him laugh. It was sweet, really, to think about the last time the two of you were on his plane heading to Fiji and how different Joel was now. Before, he was gruff and very serious, entirely focused on business and not at all interested in having any fun once you arrived on the island. To see him now with a smile on his face and wearing casual clothes in place of a stiff suit made your chest swell with happiness.

"Have you heard anything from Sarah?"

"Not yet, but I warned her I'd fuckin' know if she had any parties while we're gone," he said, then checked his phone for any possible missed calls or texts from his daughter.

"Joel, she's seventeen and she's got a whole mansion to herself for the next two weeks. She's going to have friends over."

"Friends is one thing, but I ain't havin' any boys sniffin' 'round her in my own house while I'm gone," he said sternly. You hid your smile behind your fork, secretly adoring the way Joel had become so paternal in the past year. "'Sides, she ain't alone. I got staff there 'round the clock keepin' an eye on her and the place."

Joel and Sarah's mother didn't have a very pleasant history. After he discovered she had gotten pregnant, she tried to bait him into marriage just so she could have access to all of his money. Joel broke things off with her and closed himself off emotionally for over a decade. He ended up having a difficult time maintaining a relationship with Sarah, as well, but after some encouragement on your part, they reunited. Progress was slow at first, but you didn't expect anything less. Then Joel found out Sarah's mother struggled on and off with substance abuse, something that kept him awake more nights than you could count. After a particularly long night of Joel tossing and turning, you suggested asking Sarah to move in with the two of you, and while it took some time to get used to a third person in the house, you noticed Joel immediately started sleeping better. Sarah still visited her mother often, occasionally even staying overnight for a weekend here or there, but Joel's mind was at peace knowing she was safe.

"Alright," you said, folding your hands on the table after your plates were cleared. "So Tommy's taking us to the hotel - then what?"

"Was gonna have him show me 'round, check on all the progress, see what need's doin' 'fore next week."

"Next week? The hotel doesn't open for two weeks," you reminded him. He shook his head and glanced at his phone when a notification popped up.

"Soft open is next week, so we only get the place to ourselves for a few days," he said, then cocked an eyebrow before adding, "think you'll be able to behave yourself?"

"Me?" you sputtered with your hand pressed to your chest in mock offense. "I'm an angel, I have no idea what you're talking about."

Joel chuckled and turned his attention back to his laptop while you stared out the window, lost in thought.

"So are my parents staying at The Parador?"

Your parents, who had never left the mainland United States, agreed to a vacation only after they found out all expenses would be paid when you made your plans to return for the grand opening. He had told you at the time he thought your mother would want to be involved in the wedding planning, but you had a sneaking suspicion it was his way of trying to score some points with them.

When you told them the news about your engagement, they were shocked, to say the least. It wasn't the reaction you were hoping for but to be fair, you had hardly given them any time to come around after you had begged your mother to give Joel a chance. Since your big news, they hadn't come out to visit once and any time you brought up wedding plans over the phone, your parents got very quiet before ultimately changing the subject to something else.

Joel shook his head. "Booked 'em a nice villa at The Sapphire. Didn't want them to put up with the growin' pains from a new staff. Wanted 'em to be comfortable."

You studied him from over the top of his computer, heart breaking a little bit at the tone in his voice. He didn't like to let it show, but you could tell it bothered him. Part of you wondered if he booked them a trip so he would get a chance to get to know them better and change their minds.

"That was thoughtful," you said softly. Joel just grunted and continued to work, so you stretched your leg out under the table, nudging his knee with your foot to get his attention. When his eyes flickered back up to you, you tilted your head to the side and said, "It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks, you know. I'm the one spending the rest of my life with you - not them."

The corner of his mouth twitched and you smiled when he said, "I know. Just want them to know how much I love you, is all."

You knew Joel could come off a little brash at first. Hell, your first impression of him wasn't the best. In fact, it took some time before you could see past that hardened, cutthroat businessman exterior to who he really was underneath.

Although... when Joel met your parents, you saw with your own eyes how hard he was trying. He was warm and inviting the entire time your parents were in his home. Their standoffish behavior didn't make much sense, but you chalked it up to the abundant displays of wealth combined with losing their only daughter to an entirely different lifestyle as their reason, and knew deep down that one day they would understand why you fell in love with him.

"Thought your folks were joinin' us, sweetheart," Tommy said from the driver's seat of a beat up work truck.

"Not for a few more days," you replied, tightly pressing your lips together to keep yourself from squealing when Tommy took a sharp, bumpy turn. Joel was in the backseat next to you, hanging onto the door for dear life. If there wasn't a rip in the leather digging into the back of your thigh, you would have laughed at the expression on his face. The old Dodge truck was a far cry from the luxurious town cars or any one of the hideously expensive vehicles currently in Joel's garage back in L.A.

"Aw, that's nice. Got any plans?"

"Uh-" you squeezed your eyes shut when Tommy hit a pothole, then took a deep breath. "Yeah. I was going to take them into town to eat one night, and show them around The Parador so they could see exactly what it is I'm spending all my time on," you laughed. Joel shot you a quick smile before furrowing his brow when Tommy ran a stop sign. "Maybe see if they'd want to do jet skis or check out the fire dancers. I was gonna leave it up to them, but I know they want to do their own thing, too."

"And they'll be plannin' the wedding, right?" Tommy confirmed, quirking an eyebrow at you over his sunglasses in the review mirror.

"Oh, yeah, duh," you laughed, "that, too."

Tommy grinned and dropped an arm out his window, letting his fingers dance on the warm breeze as he drove up the service road behind the hotel.

"Front's just been paved, don't wanna drive on it just yet," he explained when Joel began coughing from all the dirt kicking up.

Finally, he threw the truck into park, the radio and air conditioning cutting at the same time so you could now hear the distant shouts of workmen and power tools coming from inside the hotel.

"Alright, brother... you ready to finally see what all your money's gotten you?"

Joel kicked open his door and slid out, then turned to extend a hand for you.

When you exited the truck, the first thing that struck you was the sheer size of the resort. The parcel of land Joel bought from Glenn was almost ten acres of literal paradise. Through the massive glass windows that were installed practically everywhere so the guests could enjoy the view, no matter where they were. Amongst all the natural foliage, you knew somewhere was a lagoon that had a lounging area built around it for guests, along with four climate controlled pools and six different restaurants, all of which offered outdoor seating. In addition to all that was a private beach, a tennis court, a handful of manmade waterfalls, and a golf course.

And all of that was just the outside.

"Better be good. Those purchase orders were lookin' mighty pricey the past couple months," he grumbled. You squeezed his hand and smiled up at him as you followed Tommy up to the back entrance of the hotel, your excitement contagious and causing Joel to crack a smile of his own.

"Forgot how damn hot it is here," Joel said, wiping sweat from the back of his neck. Tommy twisted around to hold open the door and stepped to the side, allowing the two of you to enter first.

"You're in luck. AC was turned on last week."

The hotel was two weeks away from the grand opening and one week away from the soft opening, so when you entered the lobby, it was far from the construction site you had remembered from previous video calls. Joel had come out by himself a few times, but you hadn't seen the hotel unless it was through a screen. You realized quickly the videos and pictures didn't do the place justice.

"Two story lobby," Tommy said, pointing up like you could somehow miss the massive, sparkling chandeliers hanging above your heads. "Front desk is tucked into the side next to the doors so the guests experience the beauty of the place right off the bat, 'stead of starin' at a desk with computers, just like you said," he continued as he lead you further into the space. Joel nodded and slowly looked around, examining every sconce and white marble tile for any defects while your fingers trailed over the textured bronze wallpaper lining the entire entrance.

Tommy continued to talk, pointing things out and searching for Joel's approval: the deep teal couches and chairs that scattered around the room. The tropical looking café set across from the front desk that carried more blends of coffee than Starbucks. The spotless white flooring and countertops. He even showed you the bathrooms, making sure everything was perfect and up to Joel's standards.

When Tommy finally saw his brother crack a pleased smile with a firm clap on the shoulder, his face lit up with relief.

"Y'did good," Joel told him before releasing his grip and spinning back around. His next order of business was to introduce himself to the hotel staff, who were all adorned in pressed black pants with a matching black shirt that had a flare of deep teal on their breast pocket which matched the lobby furniture. You smiled to yourself as you followed Joel's lead, shaking their hands before stopping in the kitchen to meet more employees. All of the hard work he had put into this hotel, his dream, was actually paying off.

Afterwards, Tommy led you up to the presidential villa, which was in it's own private wing. While you rode the elevator, he explained how each room had a balcony, two flat screen televisions, pillowtop mattresses, blackout drapes, a safe, and a small kitchen area.

"And that's just what all rooms got standard," Tommy said once he stepped off the elevator and fished out the keycard they handed him at the front desk. "'Course, there's different levels, y'know that."

You and Joel exchanged looks behind Tommy's back while he unlocked the door to your room. Obviously, you knew all of that - especially Joel. He was the one who had final say over every detail. But hearing how excited and proud Tommy felt kept either of you from saying a word.

What surprised you first when you entered the villa was, even though you had taken an elevator up a few floors, you still found yourself looking out at the beach through the spotless glass windows. Tommy said something about a hilly terrain being the reason and how much of a pain it was to build around it, but you hardly heard a word because your eyes were drawn to the huge painting hung behind the soft, white couch. It was an exact replica of the painting Joel had bought you the last time you were on the island. Ellie's familiar brush strokes of soft pinks, blues and whites filled the canvas. You laughed in disbelief before you rushed over to examine it closer, then glanced happily over your shoulder at Joel, who stood back with his hands shoved in his pockets and a pleased look on his face.

"Was hard to keep it a secret but I wanted to surprise you."

You jut out your lower lip and held out your hand for him to join you, your expression softening when you heard the shy tone in his voice. Tommy was across the room, opening up the big glass doors to let in the sea breeze when you took Joel's hand and stood on your tiptoes, giving him a kiss that had his cheeks turning pink.

"I love you," you whispered when you fell back onto the flats of your feet. Tommy began fiddling with the remote for the stereo, talking to himself while Joel gazed down at you adoringly.

"I love you, too."

A year and a half earlier

It had been almost a month without you, but it felt like more. Every breath hurt, he could barely sleep, and forget about focusing on work. It was supposed to be the highlight of his career - obtaining the unobtainable parcel of land in Fiji. Yet he couldn't enjoy it, because his every waking thought was consumed with you.

It was even worse being so far away, back on the island where everything started and ended. Yet he still made sure to pick out the next day's floral arrangement to be sent to your door. It was the only way he could remind you that he was thinking of you, even though you had begged him to stop, he wouldn't, because it was the only way to make sure you didn't forget about him.

Once he picked the arrangement, he emailed it to Liam and with a sigh, dropped his phone onto the table next to his lounge chair.

The sun was beginning to set; casting gorgeous hues of bright orange, pink, and yellow across the sparkling water.

You would have loved it.

He figured it was now or never, so he shucked off his shirt and made his way to the shoreline.

Just like he remembered, the water was warm and crystal clear. He submerged himself up to his shoulders and allowed himself to close his eyes for a moment. No matter how hard he tried to relax and enjoy himself, his inner turmoil kept his muscles tense and his mind busy. Why did he have to be such an asshole? Why couldn't he had just spared you both the pain and gotten over his bullshit? You hadn't asked him for much. You just wanted to be let in, you wanted him to trust you with his deepest shame and regrets. But his fear of being judged and losing you was too much.

Ironically, he lost you anyway, so what was the point?

The waves lapped gently over his shoulders and the sound of people packing up their things on the beach drifted across the breeze. He wondered what you were doing at that very moment. Given the twenty hour time difference, it would be around bedtime for you, but the day before. He liked to imagine you getting ready for bed, putting all those different creams on your face and neck before brushing your teeth. He hadn't ever seen the inside of your apartment, so all he could do was remember how you looked getting ready for bed when you stayed with him on the island. You used to hurry into bed and dive under the covers to curl up against him. He smiled to himself at the memory, missing how unexpectedly comforting your presence was to him at night.

Maybe you missed it, too. Maybe you missed it right at the exact same moment.

When he reopened his eyes, the sun had sunk considerably lower and the beach was mostly empty, so he got to work. He walked slowly through the water, using his feet to search for the precious pink seashells to replace the ones he accidentally broke. Every few feet, he felt a cluster of smooth shells with the tips of his toes. It took almost ten minutes, but he finally was able to collect a decent amount. He waded back to shore, arms full amidst the twilight. Once he got back to his towel, he noticed a good portion of the shells were broken or cracked. He tossed those into the sand, only keeping the ones that looked absolutely perfect.

When he was satisfied, he wrapped them carefully in a spare towel and collected his things before heading back to his room.

He wasn't stupid. He knew seashells wouldn't fix everything. But he was hoping the gesture was enough to show you how much he cared.

Maybe it was a start.

Present Day

Joel trailed after you as you drifted from room to room, then grinned when you squealed at the master suite, which was right off the sitting room. He hadn't told you yet, but the presidential villa was going to rebrand into the honeymoon villa. He had created it with you in mind and based on the way you were jumping with excitement when you saw how a private garden and a courtyard filled in on either side of the glass walls surrounding the spa bathtub, he did a good job.

"Joel, this room is insane," you grinned. He stood next to the tub while you skipped down the galley-like closet until you reached the opposite side, turning around in the entryway of the bedroom and bathroom.

"You like it?"

"I love it!"

Joel smirked and nodded before strolling past the tub, into the bedroom. You followed on the other side, staring in awe at the floor to ceiling glass French doors that opened out to the infinity pool.

"I can't believe we get to spend two weeks here," you breathed. Joel walked up behind you, bending so he could hook his chin over your shoulder and wrap his arms around your waist.

"We can come here any time you want."

You giggled when his stubble brushed over your skin, tickling you.

"How about we come back here in a couple months?" you asked, leaning into his hold and letting him sway you back and forth. "Maybe get married or something?"

Joel chuckled into your skin, giving your shoulder a kiss.

"There's nothin' I want more."

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[ithinkicantdie]

I'll put a little bit of text here that felt too long to put in the tags but I know it doesn't really matter that much to other people what I think so I won't force myself to make any of the words I'm putting down make sense.

First point I wanted to make in the tags I started writing out was that I don’t think "girls' girl" should be included in this list because it’s a newer variation of the term "women supporting women" which I very much prefer as a positive counterpart in order to replace others like the extremely widely used "pick me girl" or just "pick me" because I think it is more important to celebrate the solidarity rather than use shame to point out when someone’s internalized misogyny is being a little too external.

"Girl math" as a term could be replaced with a different term for the logic that people are putting behind it but most of the posts are about consumerism and spending money so any far-left leaning people who identify with communism, socialism or just anti-capitalism (ily all, keep fighting for change) likely wouldn't use terms like that anyway so there wouldn't be much of a point. I do genuinely think we can let that whole trend go with just the superficial analysis of "people are trying to justify spending money by saying they aren't actually spending as much as they could be" but we could also go further into why we are made to feel shame for buying superfluous things or why we have to use the money we need to live in order to be happy and being happy when you're trying to stay alive feels impossible but the shame of spending money on things that make you happy compounds on top of that.

I associate bimbocore with Chrissy Chlapecka the most and she is very unapologetic about the bimbo videos to my knowledge because they make a lot of anti fascist posts but there are some problems she has to deal with due to being an influencer with low self esteem and rarely posting to social media at all without a full face of makeup while not wanting to encourage other people to also be that way. I also think the general public are trying to move away from saying things like whore and slut and skank because social media is all about being aesthetically pleasing and it's not about how much of a whore you are on the inside but how much of a bimbo you look or act like on the outside. The connotations of bimbo do point out how often sensuality and intelligence are thought of as at odds with one another in women but thought of as being found together very often in men and you could make an argument that women are being strong-armed into once again giving up when it comes to trying to be respected and revered for their personal accomplishments and they are actively being told to revert back to striving for superficial beauty standards to reach any amount of success. I could dive into that for hours honestly.

"Girlfriend brain" in the contexts I've seen it in (used in posts by normal people and not the 'stay at home girlfriend' influencers who scare me) is very similar to the whole trend of having "scary dog privileges" where you’re able to walk around without fear of getting harassed because men who don’t see you as a person will see your boyfriend as a person and you will not be as debilitatingly anxious about your personal safety in a public space. These trends alone can point out a lot of problems with how we are expected to "solve" problems by temporarily making it safer for only one individual at a time and not dismantling the culture that makes men feel entitled to women as a whole.

"Girl dinner" I think is heavily related to diet culture with people either purposefully eating less food to restrict the number of calories or eating junk food in the privacy of their own home without fear of backlash or judgement but it could even be fatigue of constantly cooking for other people because you have that expectation placed on you and you find brief respite in not wanting to cook for ‘just’ yourself but all of those options are insanely depressing no matter what. The expectation to be a sexy twig that eats nothing but also cook hearty meals for those around you to enjoy at any given moment is too exhausting and people break away from that where they can but also not every person participating in a viral trend is required to be actively experiencing any of the shame that the audience could be projecting onto them from personal experiences so does it really help at all or does it just hurt more people?

I do genuinely think clean girl core and DFE are heavily associated with white supremacist shit so I will not defend those at all, I think I've even seen some people call DFE a nazi tradwife dogwhistle so I'll just put that out there for other people to think on because I do not want to touch that with a ten foot pole.

And other people understand the whole "I’m just a girl" thing just fine obviously based off of most of the notes. Thank you No Doubt for providing such a banger that is infinitely better than the way people are abusing the phrase now.

"I'm just a girl", "girl math", "girl dinner", "divine feminine energy", "bimbocore", "clean girl", "girl's girl", "girlfriend brain" SHUT UPPP!!! SHUTT THE FUCKKKK UPPPPPP !!!!

[animalphotorefs]

Would y’all want/support a gallery page on the site of art that’s been created with the reference photos?

I’ve been running into an interesting thing where non-artsy people are completely confused by the utility of the site, or are unaware that there’s really that much of a demand for reference photos. Even one of my closest friends has been super surprised by how much it’s taken off.

What I’m finding though is I don’t have any easy way to link someone who falls into that category to the art everyone is creating. Sharing/“reposting” art on Tumblr/Bluesky is well and good for folk already on those platforms, but not a great option for people who are less online.

I’m thinking it would be fun to have an art gallery page, to solve this! I haven’t fully plotted it out yet, but my preliminary thoughts are: inclusion by submission/artist request only, all art should be watermarked/signed, the page would clearly state a difference in copyright permissions from the rest of the site, and I could probably link out to each artist’s own portfolio or shop.

Feedback, please! Especially as an artist using the references, what would I need to do to make you feel comfortable with having your work featured in this idea of a gallery?

[un-fwuit-un-fwog]

HELLOOO👋🏻

Since your requests were open could you do a Leona x fem!reader??

Where the reader is initially wary of men due to past experiences back in her world. So when she's in twst world (more specifically in NRC) she's cautious around boys, but Leona notices and tries to gain her trust. Alot of people misunderstood him being a player, womanizer, mean cruel man etc when he's actually not like that. I guess you're my only hope for a Leona x reader request lololol 😭

Hope you have time to do this req!

Thank you for the request! I've been itching to write more Leona content, and you gave me an excuse to take a moment away from my The Rain series to do so! (I've had a somewhat similar idea rolling around in my head for months, but I'll save that for another fic ;))

I tried not to let the story or its themes veer too far off into. . .unsavory directions/topics, but some things have to be at least acknowledged in a vague way when discussing this topic. I tried to do so as respectfully as possible, but if I failed, please tell me so I can do better!

Synopsis: Fem! Reader who is wary of men grows to trust Leona.

TW: mentions of the reader having previous bad experiences with men, but I tried to keep it rather vague; reader has anxiety about being in a school full of men as well as having to stay with them in the events of book 3; reader gets chased by a guy that wants to beat her up near the end, but Leona steps in (I tried not to make it a princess in distress situation, but tell me if it comes off too much that way)

Being thrown into an unfamiliar world is awful. Being thrown into an unfamiliar world and being stuck in an all male school there? You had to question what kind atrocities you committed in your past life to deserve this fate.

It took you a while, but you managed to make. . .friends here. However, even those bonds were rather unsteady and fragile.

It's not that you hated men. You were simply wary of them. You had had past experiences that were. . .unsavory: being catcalled, the uncomfortable conversations with men who approached you in scarcely populated gas stations at night, the jokes no woman in her right mind would find funny, and even some experiences that to this day keep you up at night wondering what your fate would have been if you had done even the slightest thing differently.

You tried to trust the clearly good-hearted people who you logically knew had no ulterior motives hidden behind their kindness, but it was hard. Traumas are not easily forgotten or healed.

That's why, when the events with Octavinelle went down, you were on the verge of hyperventilating. You were friends with Ace and Deuce, and you trusted them as much as you could muster yourself to allow, but that was them. You didn't know, and certainly didn't trust, everyone who resided in Heartslabyul.

Jack's offer didn't seem much better to you, but when it came down to it, you didn't exactly have any other options.

The arrangement ended up being that you would stay with Leona in his room. You weren't sure if you'd prefer this over staying in a packed room with more people.

He barely acknowledged you, or, at least, it seemed that way at first. As your short time staying with him passed, you noticed some things. For one, Ruggie always complained that when he was waking up Leona, the lion wouldn't even wait for Ruggie to get out of the room to begin getting dressed, but Leona had always changed in the bathroom connected to his room for as long as you had stayed there. He also never got too close to you; and when anyone else did, he'd come up with a conveniently timed task for them to do. He didn't use his bathroom for anything other than changing while you were there, and instead used the dorm showers, leaving you his bathroom to yourself.

Don't get me wrong, he didn't go easy on you. He simply respected you and your right to space and privacy. You aren't sure if this was simply how he was raised, if he had noticed your wariness and acted so as not to worsen it, or if it was a mix of both.

By the end of your stay in Savanaclaw, you had somehow managed to find a sense of security in being there with the lion.

As time passed after your stay at Savanaclaw, you found yourself continuing to sit in the botanical garden during lunch. When Crowley decided you would be required to join a club, you joined the Spelldrive Club as a manager. On the rare occasion you had joint alchemy classes with Leona's class, he was unexpectedly present to class and would always 'begrudgingly' agree to be your partner.

However, what really cemented him in your mind as someone who could be trusted was the incident.

You had to stay after school as Grim had caused trouble again and gotten the two of you into detention. You were allowed to leave a bit early as you hadn't caused as much trouble, and you did because you had errands you had some items you needed to pick up from Sam's shop before it closed for the night.

As you walked through the hallways, you were distracted making a mental grocery list. In your somewhat spacey state, you bumped into another student.

He accused you of bumping into him purposefully and it soon became clear he wasn't planning to let you go unscathed. He was massive compared to you, so you knew that if things were to get physical you wouldn't have a great chance of coming out of things on top, so, you did the only thing you could do at the time and ran.

The other student shouted after you and took chase. You ran for what felt like an eternity. Your legs burned so bad you were astonished you were still managing to take steps, and your lungs felt as though they were on the verge of imploding. You weren't consciously thinking of where you were going as you ran, but you found yourself approaching the botanical garden with the other student hot on your heels.

Telling yourself that if you just gained a little more distance you'd be able to find a spot in the plants to hide without him noticing, you urged your legs to pick up the pace.

However, luck wasn't on your side, and, when you got into the garden, you tripped over an uneven brick on the path and toppled face first into the unforgiving stone. You skidded painfully across the bricks, your knees and palms being skinned in the process.

You did your best to scramble to your feet, but your legs had finally given out.

"Gotcha."

You heard a sickening voice not that far away as footsteps approached you at far too fast a rate for you to crawl into a bush before he reached you.

It was when you were searching the foliage on the sides of the path that you noticed what you had at first mistaken as a stick laying in the path, but upon further inspection you realized to be a tail.

You took in a deep breath before screaming "LEONA!" and praying it would be enough to wake the lion.

"The hell are you babbling about!" The voice of the other student snarled before you felt a harsh grip on your collar yank you up. "I was originally just gonna make you pay up for bumping into me so rudely, but after that chase you put me through, I think my fists have some anger pent up."

You ducked your head and braced for impact, but it never came. What did come was a soft warmth that caught you and held you up once the student's hand had finally released its grip on you. When you opened your eyes, you saw a clearly ticked off Lion.

He had one arm snaked under your shoulder and around your stomach to keep you up, and his other had a firm grip on the guy's wrist.

You were too dazed and hyped up on adrenaline to take in the words the two exchanged, but you swore you heard a crack moments before Leona let go of his wrist. The guy fled and were sure that if he were a beastman he'd have his tail between his legs.

You were torn out of your daze by an uncharacteristically soft, but still gruff voice: "Can you walk?"

It took you a moment to form words, but you eventually managed to reply: "I'm not hurt, but-"

Before you could finish your sentence, your legs were swept out from under you. A brief "'scuse me" left Leona's lips as he picked you up, and an unfamiliar feeling blossomed in your chest.

Seeing the shift in your expression, Leona sighed "Look, I know you like your personal space, but you can't walk and I'd feel like crap if I left ya out here, so I gotta carry you to the infirmary. I woulda asked, but it's not like I could get ya there any other way. You can punch me later if ya want."

The trip to the infirmary was silent. Thoughts raced through your head, but one of the most prominent was: "I called out for him."

You had no other choice but to come to terms with the terrifying realization that you trusted this man. For better or for worse, you trusted him. . .and while it scared you, it also bloomed this warm feeling in your chest.

You let your head fall against his chest as he carried you, and if he took note of that, he didn't let it show.

After you got checked out at the infirmary and reported the incident to Professor Crewel (because we all know Crowley is too incompetent at his job to do anything), Leona walked you back to your dorm.

The two of you never verbally acknowledged the events of that day again, nor did you talk about the feelings that came with them.

He was never not there after that, and you didn't mind the company.

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[yailtsv]

Reader/Paige where Paige is a Secret admirer and leaves notes and little gifts to the reader(like from the 1st to the 14th) eventually leading up to a Valentines Day Date where Paige is waiting all nervous hoping the reader shows and they both can admit feelings towards each other. Very fluffy

Secret Admirer - p.b

💌 Syn: you have a secret admirer that just so happens to be your best friend

»»— warnings: none i don’t think

»»— notes: i’m really proud of this one 🙃 i’ve also never watched the notebook i just know it’s considered a romance movie so i went with it 🤷‍♀️

»»— word count: 2.7k

»»— pair: Paige x Gf!reader

the last 13 days have been weird for you as one could say. it started with a bouquet of roses outside your dorm room with a note that just said "from: your secret admirer" and that was on the first of february.

the 2nd day was a gaint stuffed bear  outside your dorm room - like the gaint ones you would get at costco but not exactly those bears as this one is a stuffed panda bear. there was no note for this one.

the third day was a assortment of valentines balloons and a box of iced cookies and chocolate dipped strawberries with a note that said "to the most beautiful girl - your secret admirer"

the next 10 days got even freakier. you got multiple different jewelry options on different days, you got your favorite things in a basket one day, you got a build a bear one day with it already named and everything, you got at least 3 more bouquets all different colors and all different flowers, and on the 13th you received a box full of letters - like actually hand written love letters

you were going absolutely crazy. you couldn't figure out who it was but you knew it had to of been someone you were close to because they knew all of your preferences and likes/dislikes or i guess maybe you we're getting stalked right now

you're picky with your jewelry and they knew that somehow. all of the jewelry was picked and created the way you like all of your jewelry to be. not to mention you literally received a basket full of your favorite snacks,foods, smell good things, and clothing brands.

since the first day of february you have been going around asking all of your friends if it was them with all of them looking at you confused and saying no. someone had to of been lying, there was absolutely no way not one of them knew what was going on.

the letters you received on the 13th were your 13th reason - this was probably your biggest crash out

you were honestly starting to believe all your friends - that they had no idea what was going on, and you we're starting to panic

what if i have a stalker?

what if i am being watched right now?

do i need to call the cops?

those were only some of the thoughts running around in your head. your friends weren't helping either, they were only calling you dramatic and to live a little.

"you're getting expensive jewelry and gifts for free, just take it" one of your friends had told you after you told her you we're starting to get concerned

that did not ease any of your concerns. after you got back to the dorms from class you decided to study the letters and see what you could find out about your "secret admirer" - which was absolutely nothing other than they're down right in love with you.

while reading one of the letters there was a knock at your door making you look up towards that door and eventually stand up to open said door - only to see nobody there...like at all

you were about to close the door when a box on the ground caught your attention, making your breath hitch but slowly and hesitantly grab the box anyway and make your way back into the safety of your dorm - behind the closed and locked door obviously

when opening the box you come face to face with a beautiful white dress with puffy see-through sleeves, a pair of white red bottom high heels, and a note

come to the park tomorrow night @ 6:30 and wear this.

don't be scared, you know me.

- your secret admirer

you don't know wether to be relieved or more terrified. "don't be scared, you know me" could mean that you do actually know this person and they are your friend or it could mean that someone's been watching you enough to know that you're starting to get creeped out and want to make sure that you show up to the park.

you pull out the dress and the heels setting them on your desk when you see another note in the box

you once accidentally in high school spilt your drink all over your math teachers white pants and he gave you detention for a week.

-your secret admirer that's not a creepy stalker

you laughed at the signed name before remembering the other part of the note - there are only a few people that know that secret as you were really embarrassed about the whole situation, and those people are your immediate family ....and paige your best friend since high school

wait is paige my secret admirer? no she can't be. but she's the only other person that knows that. but there is absolutely no way paige is my secret admirer right?

you didn't sleep much that night. you were going back and forth with your brain wether paige was your secret admirer or not but your decided you were gonna go to the park that night

you couldn't keep questioning everything without getting answers and now? the answers are gonna be directly handed to you tonight, - obviously with your location on and sent to your mom and 9-1-1 on speed dial

it's finally time to leave. for the last few hours you've paced, showered, did your hair and makeup, paced some more, got dressed, paced, added jewelry and other accessories, talked your self out of going, talked your self back into going and left the house before you could change your mind again

you took your time in walking to the park, as one you were obviously wearing heels right now, and two your anxiety is skyrocketing right now

you spent the walk to the park thinking of everything. all the gifts, all the words in the letters, the note with your secret, your friends reactions, all of it, trying to figure out if maybe your secret admirer was paige.

it would make sense as she knows you better than anyone. she knows how you prefer your jewelry - which not a lot of people do, she knows ALL of your favorite foods and snacks, she knows all your favorite brands - not just your favorite type of clothes, the actual clothing brand, she knows how much you love stuffed animals, and how much you appreciate hand written letters

she knows everything about you, so her being your secret admirer would be a reasonable thought.

but you still can't wrap your head around that thought. you've been in love with paige since sophomore year of high school, you've just never said anything because you were scared of ruining the friendship + you didn't think she liked you back. you've been dating trashy men this whole time to hide your feelings for paige, but know it might not have been necessary?

you've snuck glances at her while she wasn't looking for years.

you've been her own personal cheerleader for years.

you've watched her in awe for years.

you've worn her jersey to games as a way to support her for years - but really you were also doing it for you, wearing her jersey or clothes in general felt safe to you, unlike wearing your then boyfriends clothes. they gave you a sense of comfort that you were scared to ask of her. you could be having a bad day and put on one of her hoodies and it feels like a soft bear hug from her - without actually getting the hug. the clothes are always a little oversized on you and no matter if she wore it last week or a month ago, it still has the faint smell of her. you could ask to borrow her clothes but you were scared to ask for a hug or comfort from her in general.

you've been her number 1 fan for  everything she does for years. she does no wrong in your eyes. if she's the reason the ball didn't go in during a game your not gonna admit that. your gonna say it was the other girls fault even if you and her both know that's not true, because that's your way of comforting her. she knows your never gonna blame her for stuff including the small meaningless things like wether she's the reason the ball went in or not.

so after years of yearning for her love, her comfort, her attention,  having her be your secret admirer feels like a dream you need to wake up from.

walking into the park you see an area lit up with fairy lights and candles nearby and start heading towards that

when you get closer you see a giant pink and white blanket on the ground with a picnic basket in the middle. wine glasses and wine on a small tray, a big wooden basket filled with what appears to be gifts, and a car parked just a few steps away with the trunk door open with fairy lights and a heart banner hanging from the door. the backseats were down and multiple blankets covering the seats with a few pillows

there also seemed to be a pile of clothes folded on top on the blanket made bed. "hey" you hear from the left making you turn your head to see paige walking out from behind a large tree with a bouquet of pink and purple flowers

"hey" you say back in a kinda relived tone "i know you probably have some questions so i'm just gonna start talking, first these are for you" she says nervously before walking closer to you and handing the flowers over to you, with you taking them "they're beautiful, thank you" you say after sniffing the flowers

"of course. um ok so i'm just gonna be straight up and say it. i love you. i'm in love with you. i have been ever since high school i was just scared to say it. i feel like now that we are both adults we're running out of time with our time together and i don't want that. i mean i'm entering the draft this year and am moving to texas, your going wherever your career takes you. we are both growing up and going down somewhat different paths. which is why i can't be scared to admit my feelings anymore. i'm definitely scared of you rejecting me but i can't be high school me anymore. that's not gonna get me anywhere other than losing you. i might still lose you after this but at least i won't be living in question wether you like me back or not."

"paig-" you try to say but get cut off "i'm not done. for years i've watched you get played,hurt, cheated on, mistreated, by guys that have no idea how much of an amazing person you are. they didn't know that they were losing a person that would drop everything for them, they didn't know that they were losing someone that would do anything for them, and every time you came to my room crying about the pain they caused you, i just wanted to wrap you in my arms and protect you from the world. show you how your supposed to be treated, buy you the flowers that they didn't think you deserved, buy you the gifts that they didn't want to spend their money on, give you all the attention,love, comfort, that they refused to give you. i don't want to watch you go through that again, i want to be to the one to buy you flowers, to buy you expensive things, to show you love because what they were showing you definitely wasn't love. i want to wake up beside you and be able to kiss you whenever and tell you i love you everyday-"

you set down the bouquet and run over to paige, immediately bringing her lips to yours in a rough passionate kiss

you pulled away for air first with paige chasing your lips before you put your hand on her chest "i love you so much. i've been in love with you since sophomore year of high school"

paige giggles at that confession "if only we communicated in high school right?" she says with an amused tone before pulling you back into her but this time the kiss was soft and gentle, saying the remaining words paige didn't get to say.

after the love confessions you and paige ate the food she packed and talked for awhile before paige saw you starting to shiver

"cmon" she says standing up and holding her hands out for you "what? where we going?" you asked while she pulled you up

she didn't answer and instead just pulled you to the car and handed you one of the stacks of clothes and grabbed a blanket holding it up

"get dressed in those, i'm gonna hold the blanket up and look away" you don't question her and do as she says, getting dressed in the way to long sweatpants and oversized hoodie that still smells like paige

"alright i'm done" you say making paige put down the blanket "get in the trunk and get comfy, im gonna go pick up our stuff" she says setting the blanket down "i can help?" you say watching her as she turned back around from walking towards the picnic area "nope, get comfy in the trunk, i'll be back." paige says before walking away

you just shake your head with an amused smile on your face but listen to her anyway and get in the trunk and under one of the blankets. you can see her grabbing all the stuff and then eventually made her way back to the car - putting all the stuff in the drivers seat before moving back to the trunk area, taking off the lights and heart banner on the outside of the car as there was some lights she hooked up around the inside of the car too - so you guys still had light

she then gets in the trunk herself, shutting the trunk door and handing you her ipad "find a movie or something for us to watch" you take the ipad from her and put the password in going to netflix

from the corner of your eye you can see her take off her open button up shirt and crop top leaving her in her bra before she puts on a team usa hoodie then also changing from her jeans to a matching pair of sweatpants

you look back towards the ipad before she sees you were definitely checking her out - deciding on the notebook

she takes her outfit she just took off and shoes putting them in the passenger seat before grabbing your dress and heels and doing the same

"did the heels fit good?" she asks while also going under the blanket and getting comfortable "yeah, but if you're gonna buy me stuff i'm putting you on a budget. today, plus the outfit, plus all the gifts leading up to today must've cost you a fortune." you say as she went onto her side, and grabbed the ipad putting it on the side of the car door in front of you

"how about i worry what i spend my money on and you enjoy being spoiled? cause i ain't gonna stop spoiling you." she says while wrapping her arm around your waist and turning you so your also on your side - with your back to her chest

you just shake your head amused before she reaches over and starts the movie. during the intro you and her both moved a little bit to get more comfortable before cuddling into each other more

halfway during the movie you could basically feel paige's nerves - for what reason? you have no idea so you just reach up and hold her hand that's above your head - as her arm is acting as a pillow right now

paige leans her head closer to your ear "will you be my girlfriend?" you turn your head before turning your whole body to face her and look into her eyes

you lean up and gently cradle her face in your hands and bringing her face to yours and giving her another passionate kiss

"yes i'll be your girlfriend"

🏷️ @melpthatsme @rebecca-woso @authentic-girl03 @ldapper

[castiel--for--king]

like its not even that people are bad at writing. Like you cant be bad at creating something from nothing. You cant be bad at seeing pictures or concepts in your head and translating that into any kind of experience for other people to take in. The ability to create art, no matter what form it takes, is a skill unique to humans.

using ai to create something is ENTIRELY about shame. which is also something unique to humans. And you might argue it can be laziness also and while that may be a factor sometimes, it is almost always shame. shame that you feel because you believe you are not good enough, or that what you create is not good enough, no matter how much effort you put it...and so deep and cripling is this shame and fear of rejection that people will STEAL art from other people and scramble it into something slightly different and slap their name on it. because if YOU dont do it then YOU arent the one failing if it isnt well-received. there is no risk to your ego when using ai.

so yes, chosing not to use ai, chosing to stay human, when it is the more risky option to your feelings IS an accomplishment. putting yourself out there is scary and only the weak would choose to steal from those who were brave enough to take the risk they themselves werent.

*struggles while writing* i suck and writing is hard

*remembers some ppl use ai* i am a creative force. i am uncorrupted by theft and indolence. i am on a journey to excellence. it is my duty to keep taking joy in creating.

[cloversnstrawberries]

oc intro post ! ! young!serial killer grandpa & time traveler reader

masterlist | requests open !

warnings; Mentions of violence, murder, serial killings, Everett's superiority/god complex, misanthropy (hatred of the human race), manipulation, possessive behavior, mental instability, and there might be more that i forgot :( if i missed a major one, please let me know and i'll add it !!!

additional notes; i read "garden of the dead flowers" a while back (in which i totally did the daily pass thing. yeah. totally!), and i thought it had a lot of potential for a platonic yan,, i didn't like the ending much for other reasons, but i'm fixing it here. with my oc. as god intended, of course. of course, if you're familiar with the webcomic at all, this isn't really that similar; except for the very core basis ^^ this is the option that won the second poll :D

! ! introduction blurb & moodboard below the cut ! !

Everett has met a lot of people before, that's just how it is, being the son of a wealthy businessman and a socialite. He's met a lot of strange people as well, eccentric people that makes Everett need a double-take.

But none quite so strange as you, who simply... showed up in the back garden one day. You were disoriented, wearing odd clothes as you patted around your pockets for... something. A handkerchief, maybe?

Either way, you'd be an easy kill. He'd never seen you around before, perhaps a runaway then. Nobody would miss you, in that case. And If they did, then they'd have a difficult time tracing you all the way to Everett's backyard.

But something made that train of thought stop before it even fully departed. Something about you made him hesitate, and subsequently approach and offer you help. To pull you up, dazed as you were, and help you into the sitting room.

You continued to be quite out of it, and when he returned, tea in hand-- you took it without question. You hadn't said a word, not to him or otherwise. All you did was look around, face pinched like you trying to figure something out.

By the end of it, Everett isn't quite sure what made him take such a liking to you. When you opened up, you tripped over your words-- you sounded funny, regardless of that. Saying words and phrases he's never heard, but he didn't pay much mind to that.

Regardless of your little verbal stumbles, you ended up telling him that you 'don't know how you got here', which he assumed you meant the town in general, or maybe just his backyard specifically.

The first conversation he genuinely held with you, you would always give these nonsensical answers that provided no more knowledge than before. When he asked "Where are you from?" You'd respond with "Not here.", or how you got here-- you'd always pause, and try to think it over before finally settling on "...I don't know."

Amnestic, maybe? That's what he could make of it, anyways. Other than your dazed behavior, you showed no real signs of a concussion. He set you up in a guest room-- and he doesn't know what makes him do it. Even as you wake up the next morning, no longer so confused--

Usually, he wouldn't really like people like you. Those who treat him so casually, those who treat everybody like that; like they were everybody's pal. It irked Everett to no end before,

So why is it different when you do it? With your strange words, strange habits, and even stranger way of dress-- what's got him so interested in you?

What sets you apart of his usual fare--? He could go and argue that he helped you recover so he could add you to his roster of victims, because he's not one for kicking someone when their down...

But he couldn't even fool himself with that lie. Really, he doesn't know why or how you managed to worm your way into his good graces so quickly-- enough where he let you stay in his home for the time being.

He could be harboring a runaway, either from a family or maybe even if the law. That could put him in risk, if cops come looking for you-- find his home, found evidence of what he does in and around it.

Again, it's just something about you... It makes it impossible to even think of driving a knife straight through your heart. What would be easy for him with everyone else, was like fighting an uphill battle when it came to you.

Either way, he's not letting you go now. Not after week of getting to know you-- after getting you new clothes to help fit in, getting his parents to make the school take you as a student. Just so you didn't have to sit and rot in that big house all day, of course.

He won't let you outside the grounds. Maybe because he doesn't want his new friend taken, the only person that's been entirely immune to his constant need to hurt others-- either by yourself, or anyone who's looking for you.

But he doesn't tell you that. He says he just wants to make sure you're healthy and not about to keel over from an untreated brain injury and whatnot.

Everett has grown quite fond of you, even if you're a little strange.

Maybe it's because you're so strange, that you're exempt from his usually unforgiving drive to prey on others, and rip them limb from limb like they were bugs under a microscope.

[delulustateofmind]

TW: Yandere Behaviors, Dubcon, Anal, Toys, Gaping, Squirting, Overstimulation. MDNI

Yan!Nanami x Reader thoughts...

Nanami has a thing for anal. Of course, he’d rather be buried deep inside your cunt, feeling your soft, squishy walls clench around him, watching the heat rise to your cheeks as you gaze up at him, all flushed and perfect. But… he also enjoys making his trapped bride make the decisions.

That’s why there’s a clipboard hanging in the kitchen - Adventures for Newlyweds, a neatly organized list of activities. You get to pick, of course. One by one, you cross off options, whittling it down until only the ones you’d rather not deal with remain. And when your hand hesitates, your mind swirling with what’s left, that’s when he moves. Strong arms wrapping around your waist, his breath warm against your ear, lips tracing down the column of your neck.

“Go on, sweet girl. You still have choices.”

Because choice has always been his thing. From his lists, his carefully curated options. He’d never take that away from you.

You definitely weren’t going to do double penetration, not after what you saw in the toy box. The other length sitting in the leather box almost an exact replica of his, just as intimidating, and if he thought he was putting that inside you at the same time—nope. It’d be a big stretch, something he murmured in your ear with that smooth, reassuring tone, "I'd prepare you for it, don't worry." Yeah, you weren't worried about that. He would. The problem is, he'd enjoy it a little too much.

So, when your eyes landed on butt plug on the list, it seemed like the lesser evil. What’s the harm in that? A little plug. Something small, manageable—right?

Yeah, no. Those words definitely bit you in the ass, literally, when you finally saw the metal thing he had in mind. You stared at him, then at the toy, before meeting his lovesick gaze.

"Do you want me to—"

"No... I can do it."

"Do you need help?" His voice was patient, affectionate. "I'm just worried you’ll hurt yourself, honey."

So, off to the bathroom you went. A deep breath. A generous amount of lube. A hesitant finger easing the way. But the process dragged on and on, and after an hour, you heard his long sigh from the other side of the door, followed by another gentle knock.

Because he would help. He’d spend hours preparing you if that’s what you wanted. All day, even. But finally, with a breathless gasp, the toy settled into place, stretching and filling you just as intended. The initial burn slowly faded, replaced by a deep, full sensation that had you looking up at him with flushed cheeks.

That embarrassment? Nanami loved it.

It was always the same - your soft, wide-eyed uncertainty, the way your body hesitated before melting into his touch. It made him smile, made him soothe you with gentle kisses, whispering away your nerves as he eased you into anything he saw fit.

And tonight was no different.

He guided you to the bed, slow and strady, worshipping every inch of your skin as he pressed you into the sheets. And when he finally sank inside you, stretching you completely, he groaned against your ear, "You feel so much better like this, don't you?"

Your hands clenched the sheets, body overwhelmed, and just when you thought you had adjusted, he pressed on the plug.

A sharp, involuntary gasp. Your walls fluttered around him, and he chuckled, so pleased with himself. Every time it threatened to slip out, he pushed it back in, murmuring how good you were, how perfect you felt - how he wasn't letting you go anywhere.

Not when he was finally about to finish, not when the sheets were already wet with your tears, your voice breaking as you blubbered that you were too full, that you couldn’t possibly cum again. But Nanami didn’t stop. His fingers never faltered, still working your overused nub, still dragging you through another wave of humiliating bliss that left you trembling, practically gushing, beneath him.

You see, Nanami also has a thing for over hydrating you. Keeping you nice and full of water so everytime you came, you can expect another bottle of water at your lips so your poor cunny can squirt on his cock all over again.

Only when he had wrung every last shudder from your body did he finally pull himself from your soaked plush walls with a sharp hiss. For a brief moment, you thought he might be a little adventurous, that he’d paint your back with his release, leave you marked just the way he liked.

But no.

Instead, he reached between your trembling thighs, fingers curling around the base of the plug still nestled deep inside you. He pulled it out as gently as he could, but even then, your body twitched, and that’s when you heard it. A sharp, surprised gasp - his voice, breath hitching in open admiration.

Because oh.

You also noticed something just then.

He had a thing for gaping.

His fingers traced the edges of your stretched, trembling hole, his eyes dark with something insatiable. And then, just as your hazy mind was catching up—just as you were starting to realize what had him so entranced—you felt it. The warm, thick traces of cum leaking into that gaping hole.

"Tsk," he murmured, almost to himself, watching as his cum disappeared into your spent body. "Can’t let any of it go to waste, can we?"

And his fingers? They were right there, pressing the slick mess back inside.

After that? You noticed the butt plug remained on the list and how he'd guide your hand to point at it once more before whisking you away to the bedroom.

[bluespring864]

source: Sporting Misadventures with Chris Hoy on Acast

Some of the Most of the highlights:

"Overall it was a good experience" Typical Andy enthusiasm, folks :D

oh and he really is hell bent on criticising his perceived inexperience and flaws as a coach throughout...

also he was really careful throughout to speak in hypotheticals about the future of the coaching partnership, clearly they were still discussing it at this stage

tells the story again about explaining to everyone that he couldn't think of anything worse to do than coaching "and then in the car on the way home about thirty minutes later I was on the phone to Novak and he asked me... to help him"

"And I was like... 'Okay that's a bit different. Like, that's quite unique." Okay let me translate. This is Andy speak for: 'Novak, that's completely insane. I like it, though.'

"You know, I consider him to be one of the best athletes of all time"

"I enjoyed the matches. I liked sitting at the side, watching matches from a different perspective. I enjoyed the analysis, and preparing and planning, like, the strategy and everything."

"I'm a poor communicator. Something, you know, something I've always struggled with. But then when you're part of a team and kind of leading the team it's really important that you're communicating well with people and giving them clear direction. So... I think I did an okay job with that. But I found it hard. I found that really demanding."

"I spent way too much time in my room just watching videos of tennis and almost, like, overanalysing matches, like, overpreparing." Is anyone surprised.

[about giving secrets away from the matches they played in the past] "Yeah, we spoke about that quite early on [...] It wasn't so much, 'this is what you did wrong' it was more like 'this is what you do right'. When I was playing against you and you were doing this, it was so hard to play against for these reasons. [...] This is what it looks like and this is how it feels like for the player down the other end."

"if I was able to hear from Novak, or Federer or Nadal..." Well, I think Novak might be on a permanent first name basis now. Only took about 25 years :D

"I do think it's sort of a unique perspective that I have on Novak's game"

"I've competed against him in the biggest matches, on the biggest stages over a 10, 12 year period. I've studied his game. A lot. But also experienced what it's like to play against him. And practiced with him as well, and all of those things."

asked who he would have coached out of the big 3, given the choice: "I think, probably Roger." RIP Novak :D

talking about Roger having all the options, all the shots at his disposal: "To be fair, Novak was really good with this as well"

"It doesn't really matter who's coaching those guys, provided you're giving them clear direction." It does matter to one guy though, Andy, you do realise that?

"Lots of people can watch a tennis player and go 'right, this is the strategy if we're playing against them' [...] but not all of their players can execute what you're asking them to do. And that was the thing, for me, with Novak, that was amazing. In a couple of the matches I gave him the strategy that I thought would work and would be beneficial. And the way that he's able to execute that and do exactly what's being asked of him because of his technical abilities, you know... yeah. The way that he strikes a tennis ball, the way that he moves on the court... And just has no weaknesses, really." Well this counts as waxing lyrical. Well done, Novak :D

P.S. I would recommend the full podcast episode, he does tell a few hilarious actual 'sporting misadventure' anecdotes as well :)

[panlight]

One thing that I STILL can’t understand is why do the Cullen kids still go to school?

They know everything and if somebody asks they just can say that they’re homeschooled or something.

I’d be fed up with school over the time.

This is another one of those "author choices." By that I mean this is something the author wanted (for the Cullen kids to be in high school), but from the POV of the characters, it really makes no sense.

(I also think the name "Renesmee" is an author choice. I will never believe that it feels in-character for Bella to have come up with. Edward Jacob/Edward Junior, on the other hand, is VERY Bella IMO. Also moving to Forks at all is an author choice. Even for purely selfish reasons of secrecy and safety, it makes no sense for the Cullens to move back to the ONE AREA where there are people who know what they are. Absolute clown shoes. But Author Choice because story needed to happen).

Author choices aren't necessarily bad. When you're writing a story you have to make choices. Part of the job. Where you run into trouble is when it seems to go against what the characters would choose themselves.

SM had this dream about a beautiful vampire boy and a 'normal' human girl in a meadow and then she had to work backwards about how they met. And she picked 'high school' and then she had to justify it with the pretty clunky 'helps us blend in' stuff when it's clear that they make absolutely zero effort to actually blend in and are getting nothing fulfilling out of this experience. They could say they are homeschooled. They could just chill at the house and not be in public at all. They could say they are in and/or actually go to college, which at least offers the chance to tailor your experience more: American high school over and over again is going to cover most of the same stuff. In college you can pick different majors, different electives. More variety, more choice. But Edward has to be in high school to meet Bella in bio class. Author choice.

It feels like "I want them in high school" and then tried to force it, which is very different from saying, "okay I have this group of vampires with physical ages ranging from 17 to 26, how do I think they would live?" and looking at it from the characters' POV, from which high school is just obviously the worst, most nonsensical option.

I think the other part is the Bella-centricity of it all. They have to be in school because Bella is in school. Would not be surprised at all if SM decides that going forward they don't repeat high school anymore because now Edward and Bella are Adults and Married so it would be weird; but oh hey, aren't Rosalie/Emmett and Alice/Jasper also married adults and they still had to do it? Sure but they aren't the main character.

[i-scan-your-poems]

hi! I have a question about meter vs time signatures, and I figure you're a good person to ask: basically, how do time sigs and meter interact?

is a song in 3/4 comparable to one in 6/8? they have a different but similar Feel, yk? (America from West Side Story comes to mind as a good example of both 3/4 and 6/8 — the chorus alternates between the two)

does an unusual time sig (ex 5/4) make an unusual meter? the extra beat has a stumbling motion to it, like in Animals by Muse and From Eden by Hozier. (for an even stranger example, March Of The Pigs by Nine Inch Nails)

and my last question is pretty much just about Walkin On The Sun by Smash Mouth. what's going on in there.

if you get to any of these, that's fine! I love your blog :D

This is legitimately such a good question that my answer might be incomplete and roundabout!

I suspect that when people submit song lyrics to this blog, they assume that the song's musical rhythm corresponds to the meter of its lyrics. That's sometimes the case, but it's really only one style of songwriting/lyric-writing. If you listen to "I am the very model of a modern major general", you'll hear that the poetic meter and musical rhythm fit each other almost perfectly: one note = one syllable, and the stressed syllable is always on the beat. In most music, though, the rhythm and the meter are neither totally in sync (which risks sounding rhythmically boring) nor totally independent (which risks sounding like the lyrics don't fit the song). A lot of the time the rhythm gets varied, but in ways where the stressed syllables are generally more prominent. Or a line/phrase/stanza starts out with the meter and rhythm matching but then they diverge to put emphasis on certain words. Or other fun stuff. Let's look at your example, Walkin' on the Sun!

If I scanned the poetic meter of the first few lines, it'd be something like:

◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ – It ain't / no joke, / I'd like / to buy / the world / a toke ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ ◡ and teach / the world / to sing / in per/fect har/mony ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ – ◡ and teach / the world / to snuff / the fi/res and / the liars

The musical rhythm in those lines is quite varied but each of the naturally stressed syllables is either on the beat or is drawn out longer than an eighth-note (but syncopated by starting it off the beat).

Even if you're trying to make a musical rhythm that closely represents a poetic meter, there's different ways to do that. One option: make stressed and unstressed syllables the same length, but put the stressed syllables at points that get more emphasis in the musical rhythm. So you can have the syllables represented by even 8th-notes and put a stressed syllable on each beat (like in the modern major general song), or make the syllables represented by quarter notes in a meter like 4/4 or 2/4. Another option: make the stressed syllables take up more time in the rhythm. So lots of songs with time signatures like 6/8 or 9/8 or a fast 3/4 or with swung 8th-notes make the stressed syllables twice as long as the unstressed syllables (while I'm citing songs from Pirates of Penzance, "pour oh pour the pirate sherry" is a very clear 6/8 example). Both of those strategies work totally fine for expressing an iambic or trochaic meter, but they sound pretty different.

An unusual time signature does not necessarily make for an unusual meter or vice versa, because the measure doesn't have to be the same length as one line and especially because you usually want a pause of at least a beat in between lines, otherwise it would sound like the lines were all running together. In your 5/4 example "From Eden" by Hozier, a lot of the lines are trimeter! ("There's something / tragic a/bout you. [rest, rest] // Something so / magic a/bout you.”

[burningcheese-merchant]

It's so cool to see CRK getting popular again, it feels so refreshing like so much new quality fan content dropping that we couldn't even DREAM about a couple of months ago, but it hurts my very soul seeing new players being interested in beast x ancient ships, in their dynamics, asking is it okay to ship it and getting slapped in the face with another "IT'S ABUSER X VICTIM IT'S A PROSHIP IT'S A DARKSHIP" (which is just not true) killing off all the fun, bc apparently enemies to lovers, AUs and what-ifs doesn't exist anymore and everything that isn't pure fluff is illegal now. "IT'S NOT ENEMIES TO LOVERS, BEASTS ABUSED AND TORTURED THEM" yeah THAT'S WHAT ENEMIES DO??? What else do you expect from a villain honestly??? Like in ANY media??? Beasts still got their ass beat in the end as they totally deserve BECAUSE ANCIENTS ARE NOT SOFT INNOCENT SMALL BABIES THAT NEED TO BE PROTECTED, they're grown ass IMMORTAL ADULTS with huge responsibilities, they rule kingdoms, they hold a huge power in their hands, they're imperfect and not innocent. They can stand for themselves, they can fight, they can destroy, they can lie and they WILL if they need to.

I can SMELL that a shit tonne of people in this fandom secretly enjoys beast x ancient as a guilty pleasure, a forbidden fruit, but they will never admit it just because they're afraid of being harassed and bullied and it's just sad how normalized it is to hurt actual people over shipping some mobile game characters, who are adults, doesn't have power imbalance between them and aren't related.

And allat coming from ME, who doesn't ship a single beast x ancient ship

It's sad lol. Sad for the Beast x Ancient community and honestly kind of pathetic for ardent detractors at this point. I've seen sooooo many Beast x Ancient fans get harassed and even sent death threats, it's not even funny (not that it ever was in the first place). Don't you have better things to do than get this mad about video games lol. Like a job or school or a hobby or something

You're right, the Ancients are not helpless widdle babies and I'm kind of sick of how often they're infantilized, in general and just for the sake of tearing down BxA. They're grown adults who are thousands of years old. Two of them are parents, whose children are grown adults themselves. 4 of 5 founded entire nations. 1 is an active ruler still (Cacao), one seeks to rule again (Golden). Let's not kid ourselves, they've probably all got blood on their hands (not to the degree the Beasts do, but still. You don't live that life without having to make tough choices). Stop treating them like porcelain dolls lol. Yes, the Beasts attacked them, but they're villains. That's what villains do. Go play Animal Crossing if you can't handle heroes and villains fighting each other lol

And then I get a laugh whenever those same people who screech about toxicity and abuse and yadda yadda turn around and ship H*llyt*ya or Sh*dowSp*ce. The former is BxA in a different costume. The latter... Man. You know. Because TWO deranged maniacs, who are fundamentally incompatible in every way and do not make sense at all and absolutely would hurt each other and bring each other down I hate that ship so damn much. Do not ask me abt it I WILL ramble and nobody needs that. Zero beef with fans though, we're coolio! Just a difference of opinion!, is such a better option, isn't it lol. Hypocrisy.

I'm sure you noticed that ep 7 + 8 brought out a whole lot of new ShadowVanilla fans. I agree w/ you, I can feel that there are a fuckton of BxA fans lurking in the darkness, waiting for an excuse to poke their heads out (like 7 + 8 lol), only hiding because they don't want to attract lunatics. Even YOU sent this ask anonymously. Most of my inbox is stuff from anons, and I look at them all and wonder, "how many of you are just afraid of backlash for expressing any joy in BurningCheese or any of the other BxA pairs?" It's ok, guys. Don't listen to them. Be you. I'm being me right now, as cringy as I am. I am Extremely Normal about BurningCheese and I'm not ashamed :) they're video game characters at the end of the day, just have fun. Why can't we all just be bros, man, what does any of this matter

[andersunmenschlich]

Of course sorting the infinite combination of human traits into two boxes is problematic. But that's what humans do: we simplify and categorize. We do it with personality traits; we do it with racial traits; we do it with sex traits. Heck, we do it with species traits. And it's all problematic. But it (mostly) works for us, so we keep on doing it.

I don't think it's harmful—so long as we remember that all of these categories are made up for convenience. Reality is never that simple, so when our simplifications break down we need to be willing to drop convenience in favor of accuracy.

It's convenient to say "people with clits are female, and people with dicks are male."

But are people with small dicks less male than those with large ones? Are people with big clits less female than those with small ones? What about people whose junk is somewhere in between these two options? Are these people less male? Less female? What? Do, perhaps, the other traits in the "male" and "female" boxes impact our decisions here?

The simplicity of categorizations like "man/woman," "tall/short," "mammal/reptile," etc. is extremely useful... most of the time.

Gender is a simple system: two boxes of traits. Throughout history, different traits have gone into each box. Reorganization is eminently possible. In fact on a sociological scale it happens all the time. You've listed the stereotypes as you know them—they differ from place to place, time to time, and even (a little) from person to person.

Why is the choice between keeping the bad traits so unbalanced and throwing the whole thing away?

[livslunaticdamiansdisciple18]

Between the Ropes and the Lights!!! Jimmy Uso

Chapter 1

Jimmy Uso x Lyric

Warnings: Strong Language, Mature Themes, Sexual Content (18+, MDNI), Alcohol Use, Toxic Relationships, Violence/Tension!!

Word Count: 524 (just for this first chapter)

A/N: Let’s get into it. I do wanna add that I did decide to start writing out the POVs but let me give credit to this amazing writer whose stories always start like this and they're good so shoutout to @uceyliyahh

Lyric is your name.

Hope you like it.

(Lyric's POV)

The music pulsed through the dimly lit club, the bass vibrating through the floor as I wrapped around the cold metal pole. The stage lights cast a golden hue over my skin, making me glisten under their glow. This was my world, my stage.

By night, I was Lyric—the woman men threw their money at, the one they couldn’t touch but desperately wanted to. By day, I stepped into the ring, trading dollar bills for championship gold.

Two lives. Two identities. And somehow, Jey Uso had managed to slip into both.

I spotted him the moment he walked in, his signature swagger making heads turn as he and his crew strolled into the VIP section. He didn’t belong in this world—not really. Jey was used to the glitz of the WWE, the fame, the road life. But he had always loved the thrill of stepping into mine.

And I had been stupid enough to let him.

I flipped my long, honey-colored hair over my shoulder, ignoring the heat of his stare as I moved to the music, letting my body flow with the rhythm. I had given Jey Uso my heart, and he had crushed it like it was nothing.

He had made me believe I was different, that I was more than just another girl in his long list of conquests.

Then I found out about the other women. The lies. The empty promises.

Jey Uso had played me. And now, he was sitting in my club like he still had a claim to me.

I slid down the pole, arching my back as I landed effortlessly on the stage. My shift was almost up, and I was more than ready to leave this place behind for the night.

As I grabbed my robe and made my way backstage, I barely had time to react before a familiar voice stopped me.

“You still mad, huh?”

I turned, eyes narrowing at Jey, who had somehow slipped past security. He leaned against the dressing room door like he had every right to be there.

“You got some nerve showing up here,” I said, my tone sharp.

He smirked. “What? I can’t come see my favorite girl do her thing?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Favorite girl? You had a lot of those, remember?”

His smirk faltered for a second before he recovered. “You know how it is, Lyric. I ain’t mean to hurt you.”

I stepped closer, my voice low and cold. “You didn’t just hurt me, Jey. You made me believe in something that was never real.”

Before he could respond, another voice cut through the tension.

“You good, Lyric?”

I turned and saw him.

Jimmy Uso.

Jey’s twin. The one who had always been there in the background, watching, but never overstepping. Unlike Jey, Jimmy had never fed me lies. He had never looked at me like I was just another option.

I exhaled, meeting his gaze. “Yeah. I’m good.”

But as I looked into Jimmy’s warm, steady eyes, I realized something.

Maybe, for the first time in a long time… I wasn’t just good.

I was finally free.

-I hope you guys enjoyed this! I had fun writing it. I love you guys so so so so so much. <33333

[plasmas-arcade]

Bucky for Congress - SFW

Collaboration with @over-usedlittlespoon

Summary: After mass amounts of people start to write in Bucky Barnes for their vote for congress, Bucky decides it's time to step up, though can he commit?

Themes/Tags/Warnings: Stucky, Background Winterwidow, Crack treated seriously, politics, campaign manager tony

Word Count: 2.8k

Tony blinks at his phone, and he starts to laugh. "No way! Why didn't you tell me Bucky?" 

Steve tilts his head. "Tell you what?" 

"You're running for office!" Tony nearly chokes from laughter. "Are you serious about this?"

Bucky blinks. “What are you talking about? I’m not running for office.”

Tony shows Bucky his phone. "I don't think you have a choice. People are writing you in." 

There's a lot of posts about how Bucky is the best option for the job, and a trending hashing of #writeinbarnes. 

Steve looks shocked. "Is this one of those meemees?"

Bucky scrolls through the posts. “I don’t know shit about running for office? Surely it won’t go anywhere.”

Tony shrugs. "You never know. If enough people write you in, you might have a chance." 

Bruce chuckles as he walks in, looking at his phone. "You gonna accept the people's nomination?"

“…Should I?” Bucky thinks. “Maybe we should do one of those public appearances. Answer some questions about it to see if people really think I’m good enough.”

Tony starts to get excited. "Yes! Yes a rally!" 

Steve looks unsure. "Can't those be dangerous?" 

Tony is already typing rapidly on his phone. "We'll keep it small. Nothing major. And it'll be safe."

Bruce shakes his head, laughing softly. "Tony has always wanted to be a campaign manager."

Bucky blinks, also seeming just as unsure as Steve. “Okay. I guess.”

——

Bucky glances at himself in the mirror, taking off the tie Tony is trying to force him to wear. “Why can’t I just wear my clothes?”

Tony groans. "You gotta look the part! Here." He offers a different tie. "You can wear it loose. But all politicians wear ties. I think." 

Steve peeks his head in. "You've got a pretty good crowd, Buck. A lot of people excited to see you."

Bucky finds a rainbow tie, wearing it loose, a good contrast to his black suit. “Okay. Get me out there.” He looks unamused with the stuffy outfit Tony has forced him into.

Tony ushers him out onto the small stage, waving at the people in the crowd. Steve was right, there is a pretty big crowd. 

They all cheer and clap loudly when Bucky appears. Steve smiles at that, giving Bucky an encouraging look. 

Tony guides Bucky to the mic. "Alright, folks! If you haven't already gotten a chance, we've got a line for asking questions!" 

There is a line leading up to the stage with people who want to ask Bucky things.

Bucky waves a little awkwardly, “Uh… hi. This is a lot of people. It’s pretty hot out, so uh make sure you’ve all got waters. I think we’ve got some people going around handing some out.”

Bruce has a medical station set up, and Peter is helping make sure cold water is being distributed and there is plenty of shade for everyone. 

The first person steps up to the mic. "Hi! I was wondering what your thoughts were on reproductive rights?" 

Tony winces a bit. That’s a hardball question off the bat.

“Serious stuff right away, huh?” Bucky thinks. “Well, I don’t really think my thoughts really matter. I’m not a woman. I can’t get pregnant. But who am I to say what women should and shouldn’t be allowed to do with their own bodies. That’s their choice.”

The crowd politely listens, then once Bucky is finished talking they start cheering and clapping again in approval. A few people look dissatisfied, but that seems to be a minority. 

Tony gives Bucky a double thumbs up. 

"Hello! Uh, I was wondering, what's one thing you would try to do while in office if you got elected?"

“Well… What do you want me to do? I represent you guys, right?” Bucky chuckles, looking around at the big crowd.

The crowd murmurs, collectively considering this. 

"Advocate for LGBTQ rights?" Someone shouts out, and the crowd looks to Bucky for his reaction.

Bucky nods. “Yeah, I want that. Did you guys really think I’m straight?”

There's laughter and clapping, people smiling up at Bucky. 

A man comes up with his kid, and he lifts the little boy up to the microphone. "Hi!" He waves and smiles adorably. "I was... I was wonder if you could ask comgress for free lunches at school."

“Is that not a thing already? Are you kidding?” Bucky frowns. “I’ll ask for you, buddy.”

The little boy smiles widely. "Thanks you!!" 

The dad smiles as well. "Thank you. Lunch debt has been kicking a lot of people's... butts." He ruffles his kid's hair. 

After a few more questions, Tony initiates a break for Bucky. "Everyone get some water, we've got some free snacks over that way, if you need sunscreen go see the medical tent!" 

Steve hugs Bucky tightly. "You are doing amazing." He smiles proudly. "How are you feeling?"

“Confused. Why does our country suck ass?” Bucky leans against Steve. “Maybe I can help them.”

Steve wraps an arm around him. "Because there's nobody like you running it." He chuckles. He thinks for a moment. "... I think you can." He kisses his head. "But only if you want to. You don't have to do this if it isn't what you want."

“I’ll need to hear more from the people. I don’t wanna be sitting up in an office like a dumbass.” Bucky frowns.

Steve nods. "You're already miles ahead of everyone else." He chuckles. 

When Bucky comes back out, there are more people with a few more questions. Soon enough another hard one gets asks. 

"What is your stance on the mutant rights movement?"

“I’m a mutant. I want rights. I want every mutant to have rights. Regardless of what planet they’re from too.” Bucky points at the mutant flag pin on his suit.

There's thunderous applause and cheering at that. 

Bucky's rally quickly goes viral. Tony couldn't be more thrilled, putting up the news in the kitchen while they eat breakfast the next morning. 

"Will New York see their first mutant congressman? Will he take the debate stage with the other candidates? Stay tuned with us to see what we learn in the coming days."

Bucky looks excited, deciding to be a little more active on social media, wanting the best bet he can have. “What else can I do?” He pours coffee.

Peter slides his mug over to get some coffee as well. "You could host a charity event! It can even be online if you want." 

Tony snaps his fingers. "Yes! That's perfect. You don't need campaign funds because you have a super sexy billionaire buddy," he winks, "But people are asking to donate money. We can direct it to a charity."

“Natalia’s Survivors of Hydra campaign probably needs more funds.” Bucky lets Tony spend the day sorting that out, going out into New York and seeing what he can do. He’s soon caught on camera pulling out some anti-homeless spikes.

A cop starts to approach Bucky, but someone blocks him, then another person. Soon enough, a small crowd is in the area keeping the police off of Bucky so he can keep working. 

Several people are filming, some livestreaming. Steve grabs his jacket to head to where Bucky is, smiling to himself.

Bucky gets all the spikes out, making sure the cop doesn’t hurt any of the people who helped.

Someone offers Bucky a water bottle. "Wish I was strong enough to do that." He chuckles. 

Steve makes sure the cop backs off with his winning Captain America smile, then puts his hands on his hips to check out Bucky's work. "Taking up a new hobby?" He teases.

Bucky chuckles. “A new hobby? I’ve been doing shit like this since the 40s.”

Steve grins. "And you're just as sexy now as you were then." He kisses Bucky's cheek. "C'mon, I wanna show you something." He takes Bucky's hand.

Bucky tilts his head, squeezing Steve’s hand and following him. “What?”

Steve leads him down the sidewalk, taking him past a local school. On the fence surrounding it are signs made by kids with different drawings, some of Bucky. They all read in different handwriting:

Free lunches! Vote Barnes!

Bucky covers his mouth, looking amazed. He takes a picture of it, posting it on his Instagram. He flaps his hands. “What else can I do?”

Steve grins, loving seeing Bucky so happy. "Well, Peter said you could livestream on your Instragram. Give people a chance to talk with you in a more casual way. We could do it after dinner?"

Bucky nods rapidly. 

Bucky later attempts to prop up his phone after starting the stream, looking at Peter. “Did I hit the right button?”

Peter nods, helping him set his phone up. "Yep! You've got a few people watching already." He points to the hearts on the screen and the comments coming in. 

"awesome thing today with the anti homeless shit!"

"ur handsome"

"do u have a bf"

"when's your next rally?"

Steve sits close by, but not in the shot, not wanting to take Bucky's spotlight.

Bucky looks at the comments, “Uh… Thanks! My next rally is next week, it’s on my Neocities. And I do have a boyfriend.” Of course he has a fucking neocities.

Peter gives a thumbs up, joining the livestream on his phone so he can monitor it. 

"excited to vote for you!"

"#mutants4barnes"

"will you debate the other candiates?"

"who is your bf?"

“Uh… I think I can try a debate? I’m not sure what that would look like.” He raises a brow. “My boyfriend? Steve, obviously.”

Steve smiles softly, taking Bucky's hand and squeezing gently. 

"do u have pets"

"who's your favorite avenger?"

"#gays4barnes"

Bucky reaches down to pick up Alpine, holding her like a baby. “Uh… I like Wanda. And Natasha. Everyone is cool, but Wanda could totally kick my ass.”

The chat goes crazy when Alpine is visible, people sending "awwwwws" and cat emojis. Others are excited about Bucky's Avenger choice. 

The rest of the stream goes well, and Peter gives Bucky an excited hug once it's over. "That was awesome! You did great!" 

Steve kisses Bucky. "You're way better at this stuff than me." He chuckles. "I always have a script."

Bucky kisses Steve’s cheek. “I just be honest.”

Peter kisses Alpine's head. "That's why people like you. Politicians usually aren't." 

Natasha comes up to Bucky the next day and gives him a big hug, holding him tightly. "You won't believe how much money we've raised since just yesterday!"

Bucky kisses her cheek. “Really? That’s amazing.” He’s wearing some clothes fans have given him.

Natasha nods. "You are amazing." She takes his hand. "I want you to know that even if you don't get elected, what you're doing is already making a difference." 

Tony raises his brows at Bucky. "New wardrobe? I dig it."

“I love you.” Bucky has on a nice leather jacket with patches all over it, under that being a handmade shirt that says “I love my gay fans”.

Natasha chuckles. "I love you too. And your outfit."

Steve smiles at the shirt. "Look at you!" He looks so proud. "He's gonna be more famous than me. Maybe even you, Tony." 

Tony rolls his eyes. "Not possible. But good effort."

Bucky giggles. “I think I should wear this to the debate today.”

Tony quirks a brow. "... y'know, I think you're right." He smirks. "It'll throw them off for sure." 

Natasha rubs Bucky's back. "You nervous?"

“Well, yeah. I’ve never done this before. But it can’t be that hard? It’s just arguing with a bunch of old guys.” Bucky shrugs.

Peter giggles. "And you do that every day!" He blurts out, then covers his mouth. 

Steve wheezes. "Ouch!" 

Natasha chuckles. "You'll do great."

Bucky shows up relatively on time, still surprised by the amount of support for him.

The other two candidates look unimpressed by Bucky. 

Tony shoots them both a glare. "Alright, just remember. They are gonna lie about shit. Keep your cool, and you'll get them riled up." He dusts Bucky off, looking him over.

Bucky nods, stepping out and waving to all his fans, blowing them kisses. He’s been doing a thing where he holds up signs people give him from the audience, holding up a few before he takes his place. “Thank you!”

The other two candidates don't get nearly as much applause and cheering, and they look miffed about it. 

The moderator smiles and waits for the crowd to die down. "Alright! First question tonight is... if elected, what would be your first move in office?" 

The first candidate, an older man who looks like it's painful for him to smile, has his turn first. "I will make sure that the mutant registration bill is passed." He blinks when half the room boos him. "B-Because the rise in mutant-related crime has been cause for concern not only in New York but across the country. In fact-" 

A buzzer chimes, and it's Bucky's turn.

“Starting a project to provide housing for the mutants displaced by their families who passed in the fight against Thanos.” Bucky answers, basing his reply off what the person before him had said.

The crowd cheers and claps at that,  even those not there for Bucky. The other candidates look annoyed. 

"I'm going to work on solidifying foreign policy." The younger of the two old men says vaguely, gaining him scattered applause. 

"Alright! Next question... what policies do you hope to support in regards to education?" 

Bucky gets to go first.

Bucky thinks for a second. “I support diversifying education to better support mutant and disabled students. And free school lunches for all students, with support from the food waste recovery project.”

The crowd cheers and claps, and Steve, Tony and Natasha all give Bucky thumbs ups and smiles. 

The older candidate scowls. "Okay, are any of us really taking this guy seriously?" He looks across the crowd. "He's a former soviet spy, for Christ's sake. What are his qualifications?" He scoffs. 

The moderator blinks. "Sir, did you want to answer the-" 

"And another thing! You think you know what’s best for all mutants, don't you? That you can speak for them? I have plenty of mutant friends who support my efforts!"

Bucky stretches his arms above his head. “My name’s Bucky Barnes. I’m a veteran of the U.S. military. I’ve fought in two major wars, the one against Hitler and the one against Thanos. What did you do?”

The crowd cheers in support of Bucky, the older guy losing popularity points pretty quickly for attacking a veteran. 

"I... I've helped the local economy! I run a major business, and I went to law school." 

"He flunked out of law school." The other candidate chimes in, smirking a bit. 

The moderator gives each candidate time to say whatever they want at the end. The older man goes first. 

"Folks, don't let the woke mob take over our state. We don't need a gay mutant with no real qualifications trying to be in congress, it's just ridiculous. Vote for me, and I'll keep ridiculousness like that far away from our government."

Bucky adjusts his mic. “Y’all. I’m not gonna tell you how to think, I’m not gonna tell you what to feel. I don’t run a business, I don’t get any money doing this, if anything I have everything to lose running for office. The only reason I’m here is because I want you all to be heard. I want to be the voice of the people in that room where they decide what happens to your lives.”

There is a beat of silence, then a huge round of applause, nearly the whole room joining in. 

The younger of the two candidates comes up to Bucky afterwards. "I don't know how real all of that was." He chuckles. "But it worked, and I gotta respect that. Good luck. Let's beat that guy." He jabs a thumb over to the other candidate, who is giving Bucky a death glare.

Bucky shrugs. “Everything about me is real. No note card, no script, no man behind the scenes. My manager may be rich, but he has no fucking idea what he’s doing. And I kinda think that’s what this place needs.”

The man quirks a brow. "Impressive. We'll see how long it lasts." He pats Bucky's shoulder. 

Steve comes up and hugs Bucky tightly. "You were amazing! They loved you!"

Bucky kisses Steve sweetly. “You really think so?” He yawns. “I need some sleep.”

Steve wraps an arm around Bucky's shoulder, guiding him off the stage. "I really do. And you deserve some sleep." He chuckles. 

When they step outside, there's a crowd cheering and clapping for Bucky. Tony and Natasha work on crowd control, giving Bucky and Steve space to leave.

Bucky waves, blowing people kisses and accepting some items fans are handing him from the crowd.

A little girl hands him a drawing of Alpine, smiling shyly. Her mom chuckles. "She loves seeing the videos of Alpine. We watch them together."

Bucky smiles at the girl, taking the drawing. “You drew this yourself? It looks so good.”

The little girl flaps her hands and giggles. "Thank you!" 

Steve smiles fondly, and he pets Bucky's hair on the car ride home. "I'm so proud of you." He says softly.

[bayleavesfromthevine]

Do you think Sakura's backstory will be similar to Kaji? Or it's more deeper than getting bullied because of his look !

I think his backstory will more closely align with Umemiya's, if I had to guess!

For Sakura, I have three main questions:

Are his parent(s) alive?

Who is paying his rent, groceries, and phone bill?

Why did he not have any contacts on his phone previously?

The first question can suggest a lot about the latter two. If his parent(s) are alive, regardless of how involved they are, then they would be the ones financially supporting him, BUT he would have at least had their contacts in his phone most likely.

If they're dead, then why does he not have a similar living arrangement as Umemiya and Kotoha? (I don't recall the series suggesting that Ume ever moved out from the home he was in after his parents died, so I think it's safe to assume he still lives there. He's still in high school and therefore either 17 or 18, so he probably wouldn't have to move out until after graduation? I also can't see him move away willingly from his younger siblings until he absolutely had to.)

Back to Sakura, let's assume his parent(s) are dead. For now, that seems to be the most likely case. It wouldn't be unreasonable to think that he inherited whatever assets his parent(s) left behind and that's how he can afford to live on his own and pay for his phone. It also explains why he didn't have anyone on his contacts list since he bought it himself and didn't need to go through anyone else.

(There's also the option of some type of government assistance that goes towards education for orphans/wards of the state, but I'm not too knowledgeable on Japanese policies/resources on the subject, so I'm not going to speculate on the logistics for how he's able to live alone as a minor any further lol.)

As for the bullying, I have a theory: my guess is that, assuming his parent(s) are dead, then the conditions surrounding those deaths led others to believe that Sakura was at fault. Somewhat of an inverse to Umemiya's story.

I do get how kids can and will bully people for looking different, but this case seems to be too extreme for it to just be about his hair and heterochromia. (I know that he was also judged harshly for being violent, but that behavior stemmed from the previous isolation.)

Surely someone would not have completely shut him out if that were the only reason, especially when you consider how many years he's endured that neglect and how indifferent the members of Furin are to his look. The small bits of Sakura's story that we have so far are very reminiscent of Naruto's upbringing, which says a lot, lol.

I'm excited to find out what really happened to him and if any of my theories are close to hitting the mark :)