#if you blindly accept everything like a movie

[salutethesargeant]

Nah I'm sorry but the pregnancy announcement after George confirmed that Max said that he would smash his head against a wall. No one is gonna say anything bad about a father to be. That was such a perfect PR move.

And it's marketable. Baby merch immediately popped up on his site after. I've physically seen people excuse his threat towards George (which under no circumstances would ever be normal?? even if anyone else said it) to get all cheerful (called it 'alright' because he's 'morally grey' ?? that's a real human being, not a fictional character) about the baby and also using it to defend Kelly too. (I'm not going in that rabbit hole more, but she doesn't deserve defense or a fanbase)

Does everyone fall for pr that easily? Apparently so. Average F1 fan sucks up to the worst type of (European) man so easily and falls deep for their curated, predatory parasocial relationships. Media training, media acting (DTS), fandom-curated content, and rpf have you all acting like everything is a movie. Like everything is fine and sunshine.

Holy shit I need a breather.

[yandere-sins]

Yan-Poll #19

"I hate it here! It's cold and wet—I hate being locked in the basement!"

Your captor hummed thoughtfully, rubbing his chin as you stumbled over your words, your anger making it hard to form sentences. It's only been a few days since you've been kidnapped and taken to an unfamiliar place, locked in a dark basement, and ogled at your captor's pleasure. But you were fed up with this treatment!

"The food tastes like shit, and I keep feeling bugs and spiders crawl over me! It's enough! I don't know what I did to you, but this has to end, please!"

Tears were dripping from your eyes, your voice cracking as you were overcome with emotions. You reached up to wipe them away, but they were quickly replaced with more, your eyes unleashing the floodgates without you having any say.

"I'm scared; I want to go home," you whimpered, and you heard your captor sigh, his steps coming closer. You flinched hard when you felt his arms wrap around your body, pulling you close. In stark contrast to you, he smelled pleasant—someone seemed to have the opportunity to shower.

You felt crazy when you buried your face in his chest, accepting the hug, relieved that he wasn't touching you inappropriately. He was also warm, so damn warm! Everything about this made you angry, but all you could do was continue crying into his shirt, spitefully hoping it would stain.

How could someone be so cruel yet treat you so kindly, his hand rubbing up and down your back comfortingly? He didn't push you away, no matter how much you must have stunk after days without showering, and he gently brushed out the knots in your hair while he let you cry your frustrations into his chest.

"There, there," he mumbled calmly as the tears began to dry out, and you wanted to kick him in the shin now that he was close enough to hurt him like he had hurt you. But it also felt like a childish rebuke, even though he deserved it.

"You can come upstairs with me. There's heating, and we can cook your favorite meal. Also, I have a TV and books waiting for you."

His sudden suggestion surprised you. You opened your mouth to agree but luckily stopped yourself in time, so you didn't agree blindly right away. There must be a catch if he suddenly offered you this change of scenery after being so dismissive and cold towards your complaints before. You already knew he was up to no good, so could this perhaps be another trick?

"Can I really?" you asked, carefully probing at the possibility of leaving this horrible basement. Going into detail on how he mistreated you and how you deserved at least that mucht might just upset him again, and who-knows-what would happen if he was the one to get angry. It didn't help the feeling of submitting to him and his whims, but you liked the idea of at least not being isolated down here anymore.

Your captor pushed you away slightly, and you looked up at him, noticing the faint grin playing on his lips in the dim light of the basement. He looked at you with the madness of a movie killer, but his touch remained gentle, and his eyes even softened when he looked at you.

"Of course. I hate seeing you unhappy. I told you I'm doing all of this for you, didn't I? If you feel ready to accept me the same way I do you, we can finally be a family, hang out, and talk. I'd love to show you the new bed I got for us, it's so nice and comfy, and I'll buy you all the things you always wanted but couldn't! That is, of course, as long as you behave appropriately. Would hate to have to send you back down here."

That wasn't what you wanted at all! Sure, going up there inevitably meant you'd see more of him, but you never intended to play house with this man! "What if... I don't want that?" you asked hesitantly, noticing his grip tensing tightly around you.

"Maybe it's too early still..." he muttered, disappointment dripping like venom audible in every word. "You still don't know what is good for you."

With that, he let go of you, walking away with a sour look on his face and stomping up the staircase as if he was a spoiled brat whose fun got ruined.

"W-Wait!" you called out, running towards the end of the staircase, your ankle chain rattling as you stretched it out full. To your surprise, he stopped, looking back over his shoulder condensendingly. "You'll buy me everything I want? Can't we just start there, maybe try to make this basement less... icky?"

"Oh?" he hummed, turning around and leaning against the railing. And what's in it for me? Are you going to treat me to something I want if I do that for you? My offer was already quite generous. Aren't you going to give me something for your demands?"

"What... would you like?"

Another thoughtful hum escaped him as he thought briefly. Not long enough to make you believe he hadn't considered this before, but in this negotiation, you'd always draw the short straw, so it didn't really matter. Your captor walked back down two steps, standing just out of reach.

"I'll get my phone, and then you'll sit on my lap—you can't get up until I tell you to—while we order three things you want. You stay in this basement until they are delivered, and then you have to fulfill a wish of mine in exchange for each of the items. So, three wishes in total."

You gulped. Honestly, it sounded almost worse than playing house with this crazed bastard, especially with him grinning smugly as he talked about the wishes. You wanted to inquire more, get all the details but he cut you off, wagging his finger at you as if he knew what you were going to ask.

"Ah-ah," he chuckled, "It's a surprise! But you can choose: Come upstairs with me or earn yourself some comfort down here. Of course, you can also stay in the basement indefinitely without comfort, but you should stop complaining when I have given you so many options, or I might just get angry with you."

Chewing on your lip, you thought for a moment, his grin widening as he watched you contemplate your options. Of course he'd find enjoyment in your struggles—that was just the kind of psycho he was.

(Reasoning and discussions welcome! ♥)

[hjizngs]

sick days | lee minho

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hi! this is my first ever post on here,, hehe. constructive criticism is welcomed, hate is not.

cw: sick reader, petnames, slight cursing, slightly suggestive (??), angstyish oops, mostly fluff! just minho being the cutest bf :3

another hacking cough forces itself from your throat, leaving behind a painful sting and the inability to swallow. a frustrated groan emits you, followed by disgruntled sniffle. you hate being sick. 

sore throats, gross coughs, painful headaches, and a stuffed nose were all a recipe for disaster — especially today. you and minho had planned out the perfect date; a picnic, stroll in the park, and finally a movie. you had looked forward to it all week, barely getting through. only the promise of seeing your boyfriend kept you going.

you turn over on your side, the gentle movement sending another round of pain signals ringing in your head. tears sprung to the corners of your swollen eyes. you were devastated at having to miss your date. blearily, you swung a hand over to the bedside table, blindly searching for your phone. 

once found, you swiped over to minho’s contact. pressing the call button, you slumped back onto your pillow defeatedly. 

“jagi?” came the sweet voice of your boyfriend. “what’s up?” 

an exhausted whimper answers him. “min.. min i’m sorry” is all you can utter. 

his voice instantly is filled with concern. “what’s my love sorry for, hm? is everything okay?”

“no, m’sorry min.. i feel so bad. my head hurts, and i puked earlier, and it —“ another pained sound exits you. “— it hurts.” 

something shuffles over the phone, and your boyfriend is quick to reply. “oh, my poor jagi. i’m on my way, don’t worry.”

you furrow your brows. “wh-what? no no you don’t have to do that, min!” 

“see you in five.”

your eyes rolled as your boyfriend hung up on you a abruptly (like he always does — and it never fails to surprise you). coughing again, you accept that there’s nothing you can do to stop him from coming over. you scan your messy room and groan. you’re sick! you don’t want him to see you like this! 

you swing your legs over to the side of your bed, only pausing when a sneeze erupts from your pinkened nose. you settle your socked feet on the floor and attempt to rise to your feet. 

you sway, blinking harshly as to try to clear the black spots plaguing your vision. maybe getting up wasn’t the best idea..? oh well. 

slowly, you begin to shuffle around your room, picking up discarded clothes and trying to round up any embarrassing wrappers or trash. you’re halfway through folding another t-shirt when your body flashes hot, then cold. the pounding in your head increases tenfold and you drop the shirt in favor of clutching your temples. spots engulf your sight and you sink to your knees, not even attempting to make it to the bed.

you’re sweating. but the ceiling fan above only makes you shiver, goosebumps lining your arms. everything is too bright, and you squint from a combination of a headache and the glaring overhead light that suddenly feels like a thousand suns beating down on you. 

another whimper crawls out of your dry throat. the only thing your fever-weakened mind can think is minho. where is minho? you need him, it hurts it hurts everything hurts —

“jagi?! oh my god, are you okay?” thunderous footsteps make their way to you and you wince at the sudden exclamation. 

cold, cool hands press themselves to your trembling body and you sigh in relief. they stroke through your hair, carding through gently. you open one eye to see who they belong to, but clamp it shut immediately, the bright light making your eyelids pulse.

 you hear shuffling from the side, and one of the hands leave you. you suppress a whine, but something in your expression must be alarming because the voice coos. “oh, baby, i’m just turning off the light, okay?” 

no, it’s not okay. not when those hands are the only thing grounding you, keeping you from melting. however, as promised, the offending light gets shut off, and you hum in appreciation. 

the nice hands quickly return to their rightful place in your hair, and you bravely attempt to open your swollen eyes again.

your boyfriend looks down at you gently. “my poor girl. let’s get you back into bed, hm?”

you nod pathetically, letting him lift you up and place you softly on your mattress. you murmur a quiet thanks and he kisses your sweaty forehead in response. he sits on the side of the bed next to you, placing his hand on your leg and rubbing comforting circles into your skin.

“have you eaten at all yet?” he inquires.

you shake your head, “no, not yet. i don’t think i could eat a thing without puking it back up, to be honest.”

minho hums at that, scanning your face. he reaches out and places a small hand on your forehead, feeling out your temperature. he frowns.

“i think we need to check for a fever, honey. you’re very warm.”

he moves to go stand and you pout. “don’t leave, please.”

“i’m just going to grab the thermometer and a glass of water, i’ll be right back, okay?”

“be fast!” you plead.

he cards a hand through your hair. “i’ll be so fast, jagiya.”

it feels like an eternity as minho tries to locate the thermometer from outside your bedroom. you shiver again, pulling the closest fuzzy blanket over you and burrowing into it.

and that’s how he finds you when he returns — a sweaty, sick burrito. you watch as he smiles down at you fondly, pulling back the blanket a little to take a look at you.

“think you can sit up for me? need help?” he asks.

“need help, please,” you respond nasally.

minho aids in positioning you up so you’re leaning against your pillow. he holds out the found thermometer and motions for you to open your mouth.

you oblige and he places the thermometer under your tongue. after a few moments, he pulls it out and looks down on it with a displeased expression — like it personally offended him.

“100.” he states, his brow crinkling. “yeah, you’re not leaving this bed.”

you sigh and slump farther into your blanket. “i’d rather hear that in a different situation.”

minho blinks slowly, fondly. “i’ll ignore that, just because you’re sick.”

you stick out your tongue as he rises from the bed to put away the thermometer. he looks down at you, unimpressed, but with a twinkle of amusement in his catlike eyes. “brat.”

“i’m sick!” you whine, “be nice.”

“i am being nice. so nice, in fact, that i’ll ignore this little attitude —“ he reaches down and pokes your forehead, “— because i know that you feel like shit.”

you roll your eyes when he’s turned and putting the thermometer in some drawer, but deep down you’re very grateful he came over to take care of you. for all his teasing, he really does treasure you. you still feel bad for canceling the date.

in some feverish, dramatic mood change, tears begin to well in the corners of your eyes. they’re hot and uncomfortable, and you sniffle. not only did you cancel the date, you’re acting like a brat instead of thanking minho for looking after you.

“m’sorry,” you croak from your cocoon of blankets.

minho turns around sharply and scans your face quickly. he strides over to the bed and sits beside you. “what?”

“m’sorry!” tears begin to trickle down your face, sticky and unwanted. you reach up to swipe them away.

minho’s hand reaches out, grabbing onto your arm and lightly tugging you into his chest. “silly girl. what are you sorry for?”

“f’making you come over and take care of me and being a brat and not saying thank you!” you rush out, slurring some words.

a chuckle shakes minho’s chest. “oh wow, you’re really out of it, huh?”

“i’m sorry!”

“hey, hey,” his joking manner disappears when a fresh wave of tears erupts from your eyes. “you have nothing to be sorry for. you’re sick. you have a fever, baby. you aren’t being a brat, i’m sorry i called you that when you weren’t feeling well.”

you peek up at him. “you mean it?”

minho doesn’t respond, just pulls you tighter into his chest and kisses the top of your hair. his cool hand rubs on your back soothingly under your shirt. he gently lays back onto your bed, cradling you to his chest.

“try to sleep some of this off. take a nap,” he orders you lightly. “i’ll be right here.”

at his words, you snuggle into him. he reaches to the side and pulls a blanket over the two of you. just before sleep takes it’s hold over you, you look up at him, catching his eye.

“thanks for being here, min. i love you,” you murmur, your eyelids getting heavier and heavier as you begin to succumb to sleep.

the last thing you hear before sinking into feverish dreams is, “anytime, baby. i love you more.”

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yas! ok! first post done, please lmk what u think!!!1 reblogs and likes are appreciated:3

[weirdrandomtina]

Poppy character development appreciation post!

In Branch's old pod, when Poppy says he can talk to her, she pays full attention, never takes her eyes off him, and when he hesitates she continues to smile patiently. In World Tour, while he's trying to talk to her, she has her back to him and is focusing on watering the flowers, and when he hesitates, she only half pays attention.

When a friendly but random stranger picks up Branch who is clearly not liking to be thrown around, Poppy doesn't laugh about it or go along with it. And instead of saying politely, "hey, excuse me, could you please put him down", she literally snaps at JD, "STOP, PUT HIM DOWN RIGHT NOW". (and of course she refers to Branch as her boyfriend🥰)

"JD is only here because he needs something". When JD confirms that's true, Poppy could've said, "Nah, there's more to it than that", and JD could've said, "Yeah, Floyd's in danger..." and Poppy would've gone "See, told you..." Instead, she gives JD a deadpan look and says flatly, "C'mon, I'm trying here." Again, blunt and not Queen Poppy's usual giddy politeness.

Poppy wants to hear the full story of how she and Viva got separated, whereas before Poppy would've accepted Viva's vague explanation like, "Oh well, we're together now, everything's cupcakes and rainbows!" Now, Poppy recognizes Viva is changing the subject to avoid discussing negative feelings, and thanks to Branch, Poppy now knows that sugarcoating everything is not the way to deal with your problems. Also, Poppy is patient and gentle with Viva - she understands this is a sensitive / painful topic for her sister, and isn't pestering, "C'mon, tell me, tell me, I gotta know!"

In Trolls 1, when Cloud Guy teases Branch who clearly is not amused, Poppy laughs despite the life or death situation they're in. In Trolls 3, when JD teases Branch about wearing a smaller diaper, Poppy doesn't find it funny and doesn't say something like "Oh, come on, Branch, just go with it, have fun!"

When Branch tells Poppy he didn't need his brothers growing up and doesn't need them now, Poppy doesn't object or try to convince him to go back and make it work with them anyway. She just follows him, supporting him in the way he needs: being there for him no matter what. Since things didn't work out with Viva, Poppy realized family is indeed complicated.

When Poppy stops Branch from walking away, she doesn't only say, "I've always been by your side, give me some credit". She says how they've been by each other's sides. She didn't get annoyed that he implied she'll leave him, because she sees now that he's afraid of losing her like he lost his brothers and his grandma. She tells him she's not going anywhere in a sincere tone, not being silly or dismissive.

At Mount Rageous, Branch is the one taking the lead / making the plans while Poppy supports it and follows his lead. She isn't being reckless with Branch blindly following along, and she isn't making light of the situation (like in the first movie she scrapbooks his plan. Also, her 'plan' is to 'rescue everyone and make it home safely', which Branch points out is not a plan. Now she's helping him formulate an actual plan). When trying to get onto the yacht, she asks Branch, "What do we do?" She now is willing to listen to him and respects that he can be a leader, not just her.

Poppy very bluntly points out Velvet/Veneer's bad behaviour. No trying to justify it, no trying to change their minds with kind words and catchy songs, no asking nicely to let Brozone go - she screams that their phonies in front of a massive crowd, and the way she's angrily pacing tells me she wanted to say something worse. A huge change from Movie 1 and Movie 2 Poppy.

The protective-hand-reaching forward thing that Branch has always done to Poppy - she did to him!

BONUS - development from both Branch and Poppy: when she goes on her sister rant and he snaps her out of it, he starts shouting her name then softens, while she realizes what she's doing, snaps out of it, instantly calms down and gets to the point.

Here are some other great Poppy development posts I came across:

[psychedelic-ink]

ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐅𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐒

ㅤㅤjoel miller x f!reader x jack daniels

genre: smut, minors dni, dude ranch au, modern au

word count: 7.7k

summary: joel challenges jack to make you into the finest there possibly is in two days.

warnings: threesome (mfm), mlm dynamics, some jealousy, outdoor sex, piv, oral sex, dirty talking

a/n: happy birthday @fuckyeahdindjarin 🎉 I hope you enjoy you slutty cowboys--both of them nearly gave me a heart-attack while writing ❤️‍🔥 this gif was made my the lovely @pedrorascal who I am so grateful for helping me out preparing your this bday surprise!

**dividers by @saradika

You take a breath and sneak out of the cozy room. It had been hard parting away from your cozy bed. The warmth provided by the hand-knitted blanket and the scent of delicious wood made you want to never leave. They’ve really done a great job decorating the rooms of the dude ranch. It still holds the Western theme you love, but it's also adorned with rustic charm, from the weathered leather furniture to the handcrafted wooden accents, creating a welcoming atmosphere.

It had been a couple of days since your arrival. You were tired of... well, everything and desperately needed an out. You wish you could say that it happened like in the movies— a divine sign that made you come here, but no. There was no divine intervention, no mysterious flyer sticking to your face. You had to do an endless amount of research to find the perfect place, and when you were done, you picked the ranch that had the least foot traffic. You were running away from people. Choosing the most touristy one would defeat the purpose—you wanted to be alone.

And you were glad that you did. The place was amazing. Surrounded by large mountains and wide fields. This place wasn’t so people would come and see what was what. It was an actual ranch with actual people working all the time. Accepting guests was the side hustle and not the other way around. 

There were two cowboys that you constantly saw: Joel Miller and Jack Daniels. Both charming, both handsome enough to make you want to scream. Jack had been personally assigned to you, but Joel was always around, watching, observing, and, of course, running his mouth. You’ve grown accustomed to their odd friendship... rivalry? It was actually kind of cute to see Jack turn all red whenever Joel said something to undermine him. And the other seemed to know that well.

Two talented cowboys. And you, who had no idea what the hell you were doing. 

Which is why you were escaping your room like some kind of criminal at the brink of dawn. Joel’s teasing wasn’t only reserved for Jack, you got your fair share as well and it was even worse when Jack chimed in—the two seasoned horse riders letting you know just how out of your element you were. You needed to train without those two constantly spitting quips your way.

You silently make your way to the stables and blindly reach out towards Honeydust, the palomino Jack had gotten you accustomed to. You gently guide her away from the other horses. The rose-pink light of dawn has begun to trickle through the open windows, painting Honeydust’s coat in a gorgeous hue. You regret not bringing your phone; you would’ve loved to show Jack and Joel later on.

“Alright girl,” you mutter as you pat the side of her face. She whinnies slightly and digs her hoof into the ground. “It’s you and me. Let’s show them how it’s done.” 

As you reach for the saddle, you smile to yourself. You might not be that good at horse riding yet but you did learn some things—like the value of a good saddle. You take a moment to inhale the scent of it— a mix of leather, hay, and a hint of earthiness.

Honeydust stands patiently, seemingly aware of your fumbling attempts to secure the saddle. You take a deep breath, remembering the lessons Jack patiently gave you about saddling up. Slowly but surely, you manage to get everything in place. As you tighten the cinch, you feel a sense of accomplishment. A week ago, you hadn’t been able to do this. Maybe you're not a full-on cowboy, but you're determined to learn the ropes.

With the saddle secured, you grab the reins and lead Honeydust out of the stable, into the cool morning air. The sky is a canvas of pastel colors—blues, pinks, and golds blending together as the sun inches higher. It's a breathtaking sight. You pat Honeydust on the muzzle and press your cheek against her, watching the sky.

“Isn’t it beautiful,” you whisper to her. “Honestly I’m gonna hate going back. It’s been a couple of days and I’m already attached to this place.” 

Honeydust snorts and shakes her head. You smile wide as you pat her again, “You’re right. No room for sentimentality.” 

Mounting Honeydust, you settle into the saddle, adjusting to the feel of it beneath you. The quiet creak of leather is drowned out by the sounds of the waking ranch. Birds chirp in the distance, and you take a deep breath, your lungs filling with the fresh scent of the outdoors—

But then you’re slipping. 

And then falling. 

With a loud, sharp gasp, you find yourself unexpectedly upside down beneath Honeydust's belly. Panic sets in as you register the proximity of her powerful legs, your eyes widen, your heart pounding loudly in your chest. Honeydust remains still, your body still miraculously hanging to the saddle. 

Your heartbeat starts to slow, you take a deep breath. You’re fine. You’re okay. You just forgot to fasten one of the belts. 

“Need any help there, sweetheart?” 

Fuck. Busted. 

“I’m fine,” you answer, emphasizing the latter. Jean-clad legs come into view. “Just. . . trying a new riding style.” 

“Is that so?” Joel drawls, amusement dripping with every word. “And what would you call this one? The hangin’ fool?” 

“Rude.” 

His hips cock to the side and you see him placing both hands on his narrow hips, “Would it be better if I called it the hangin’ beauty?” 

“Yes actually, it would.” 

Your cheeks warm as he steps closer. You try not to stare, or perhaps that’s just you lying to yourself, but whatever your true intention was your eyes linger right over his crotch. Even with the thick jeans and the belt buckle, you know he’s packing underneath there. You can especially tell now since this is the closest you’ve ever been to it. Your mouth waters. Your brain delving further into sinful imagination when his low chuckle echoes in your ear. 

“A’right then beautiful, let’s get you out here.” he stops for a beat, his knuckles brushing down the outer part of your leg. You shudder, your legs tighten around Honeydust. “Unless you wanna show me this new ridin’ style of yours?” 

“You know what, I think I’ll take a rain check on that.” your voice is shrill and pitchy. Your eyes start to throb. “Especially since all the blood in my body is currently in my head.” 

“Oh shit—Okay, just gimme a sec.” he slides his hands under your armpits. “A’right now let go.” 

“What?” 

“Just let go, sweetheart. I got you. You’ll be okay, promise.” 

With a sharp breath, you close your eyes and loosen your legs. Joel's arms wrap further beneath yours, drawing you closer. You feel the tightening of his biceps, feel the huff of his breath against your cheek. He takes a step back and suddenly unbalanced, he falls backward, pulling you along.

With a huff, Joel lands on his ass, and you find yourself comfortably nestled against his chest. It takes you only a second for your gaze to find his. You hold your breath and so does he. His hand pleasantly curls around your waist, keeping you from moving away. His chest is firm under your own, your nipples tightening when you shift a bit, the graze of fabric makes you shudder. 

His other hand comes to brush a strand of loose hair behind your ear. You swallow not once but twice. The warmth of Joel’s palm cradles your cheek and a slow breath exits your lungs. 

“You a’right?” 

“Y—Yeah. . . thanks for helping me out.” 

“My pleasure.” His voice is deep, hoarse even, and it scratches your ears just right. You find yourself drawn to him. Your eyes dropping to his lips and back up to meet his heavy-lidded gaze. His lips part. The divot in the middle of his bottom lip more prominent than ever. You lean in without a thought, he mimics you, coming in closer and closer. Your chest heaves. Your heart beating madly against your chest. 

“What the hell are you two doin’ canoodling here?” 

You jerk away, your eyes lingering on Joel long enough to see the disappointment in his gaze. His eyes close slowly and he takes a ragged breath. Shifting slightly you see Jack holding a hay bale. His eyes are narrowed, his brows knitted together as his gaze flits between you and Joel. You chew the inside of your cheek, embarrassment heating you from the inside out. 

“We ain’t canoodlin’,” Joel answers, agitated. “I found her hanging upside down under Honeydust’s belly. Who’s fault do you think is that?” 

Jack’s mouth opens and closes, his cheeks suddenly flushed. His gloved hands tighten around the hay as he pushes it up his arms. Then finally, with a softened gaze, he turns to you. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” you reply, your heart currently beating in your throat. “I just forgot to fasten the other side of the saddle.” 

Joel squeezes your waist and you’re suddenly hyper-aware that you’re basically on his lap still. “It’s not your fault, sweetheart. You have a shit teacher.” 

“Excuse me?” Jack’s tone is enough to have you scrambling off of Joel’s lap. If looks could kill, Joel would be dead right now. On your feet, you move towards Honeydust, and with great comfort, she nuzzles your chest. Joel smiles lazily when Jack drops the bale of hay and walks up to him. “You better take that back, old man.” 

“Yeah?” his eyes glow with mirth. “Make me.” 

Involuntarily you cover your mouth with a hand. Is it bad that you’re secretly enjoying this? The amount of testosterone in the air is thick enough to cut with a knife. 

Joel slowly gets up, as if he has all the time in the world, and faces Jack. He’s slightly taller than the latter, smile still tugging at his lips as he tilts his head ever so slightly down. Jack’s nostrils flare. 

“You want me to knock you out in front of our guest?” 

“I’d love to see you try.” 

Joel takes another step closer, his chest nearly flushed against the other, he jerks his head to the side and places his hands on his hips. You swear you see Jack’s skin darkening with a deep shade of red from his chest to his neck. His jaw is wired tight, the muscle there twitching. 

“How about this,” Joel grins. “You manage to make our sweet girl here a full-on cowgirl in two days and I’ll eat my words right outta your hand, Whiskey.” 

Jack huffs and clicks his tongue, “Don’t call me that.” 

“It’s your name isn’t it?” 

“It ain’t and you know it.” 

“Your parents shouldn’t have named you Jack Daniels,” Joel rolls his eyes, “Do we have a deal or not?” 

You hold your breath when Joel extends a hand. Jack’s eyes briefly find yours, his fingers twitching. The morning chill is still in the air and despite it, beads of sweat appear on your skin. Two days. Two days and you still don’t know how to put on a saddle right. With a small shake, you attempt to warn Jack but that only makes him smile. 

He turns to Joel, “Deal,” he answers, taking his hand. “Two days. Be ready to eat your words, old man.” 

They shake on it and as they do Joel gives you a not so subtle wink. It reminds you of just how close the two of you were a mere couple of minutes ago. You avert your gaze, suddenly shy to face him, and think about what might’ve happened if Jack hadn’t interrupted. 

When Joel leaves, Jack lets out a long sigh and turns to you. 

“You slipped, darlin’, really?” 

“In my defense, it was early.” 

“Fuckin’ hell.” He shakes his head but you see the way his lips curl upwards ever so slightly. “Anyway, wait for me here and I’ll be right back. We gotta get you into tip-top shape because I ain’t gonna lose to Joel.” 

“I warned you, you know,” you softly kick the dirt with the tip of your boot. 

Jack’s tongue moves over his bottom lip, a shudder crawls up your spine and heat pools between your legs. He grips the bale of hay and throws it over his shoulder. 

“That’s why I accepted the challenge, sugar. No guest of mine is gonna leave here without feelin’ like they can conquer the world.” 

“Jack this is impossible I’m never going to get the hang of this.” 

“With that attitude you sure ain’t gonna.” 

With a crooked smile, Jack watches as you draw your shoulders together and stomp your boot against the soil. The lasso is tight between your fingers, the tips of which are chafed from turning the lasso again and again in an attempt to loop the rope around one of the wooden posts. He tilts his head to the side when you turn to him, a pleading expression etched onto your beautiful face.

"This is never going to happen," you huff. However, instead of keeping his eyes locked on yours, his gaze drops to where your flannel hugs your breasts, the poor buttons struggling to keep it all together. His cock swells at the thought of licking them, sucking on your hard nipples while the sweetest noises flee from your lips. "Jack?"

He doesn’t hide the fact that he’s been staring at your gorgeous tits, he drags his gaze back slowly, his smile only growing upon seeing your parted lips and glazed eyes. “Yeah, sugar?” 

“We’re never going to win this thing with Joel,” you say and he doesn’t fail to notice how breathless you suddenly are. “How am I supposed to learn to do everything a cowboy can in two days? Seems a bit unfair.” 

“Not everythin’,” he struts towards you and peels the lasso from your fingers. “We just need to cover the basics. No one is expectin’ you to catch a knife in mid-air with a lasso.” 

Your brows furrow, “What? You’re saying you can actually do that?” 

“‘Course I can,” he chirps back. “Unlike you, I’m a top-notch cowboy.” 

His heart breaks a little when he sees how defeated you look, with a small nudge to your shoulder, he draws your gaze back to him. “Want me to show you again darlin’?” 

“Sure but I’m not sure it’ll do me any good. I’m horrible at this.” 

With a reassuring grin, Jack steps back, unwinding the lasso he took from you. He takes a moment to adjust the coils and then demonstrates the art of lassoing, the rope flying through the air in a graceful arc before landing perfectly around a wooden post.

“You see, it's all in the wrist,” he explains as he smoothly tightens the loop, making it look deceptively easy. He repeats the motion a couple of times, each throw precise and controlled.

“You know who’s really good at this?” he asks, returning his attention to you. “Joel.”

You snort, “I feel like that man is good at everything. But I’m not sure why you’re telling me that.”

“Well, you know who used to suck at it—me.”

“You?” you raise a sole eyebrow, and a teasing smile touches your lips. “You who can catch a knife in the air, supposedly, that is.”

“It takes a lot of practice, sugar. That's what I’m tryin’ to tell ya. I sucked at it. Couldn’t even do one loop. Then the old timer helped me out.”

“Joel?”

Yup," he says, noticing your shock. He had been shocked too when the man had shown him how to properly do it. It was both amazing and terrifying. Jack had never had someone care about him enough to actually show him how it's done instead of letting him struggle on his own. "And eventually, I got the hang of it. So will you.”

You smile wholeheartedly and take the lasso from him, “Thanks, Jack. I. . . I appreciate it. You actually really respect him, don’t you? Despite all the banter and arguing.” 

“That’s just how I show love, darlin’.” 

“You never argue with me.” 

His eyebrows tilt up, along with the corner of his lips. You avert your eyes as you loosely hold the rope in your hand, the exercise quickly forgotten. Jack closes the distance until there's only a breath of space between you two. He entertains the idea of lifting your head by the chin, forcing your gaze upon him, but he refrains. He wants you to listen to him and oblige.

“Look at me, darlin’,” His eyes shine with delight when you do, he leans closer. “You want me to fight you?” 

Your brows furrow, your lips forming the most adorable pout, “No. Of course not.” 

“You sure?” This time he does cup your cheek to keep your gaze fixed on him. His pinkies move towards your neck, drawing soft patterns up and down your skin. You visibly shudder, a soft breath escaping your lips. “I see how you watch when Joel and I start to bitch and moan at each other, sugar. You sure you’re not into it even a little?” 

He knows your answer. But he allows you to giggle and escape his hold anyway. “You’re ridiculous,” you say and as a response Jack wants to touch on the fact that you can’t look at him anymore, however, he’ll allow you to escape him for now. 

“Come on then, now that you got your giggles on, let’s see you at least pull in one of those cones.” 

While you attempt to just do that, Jack ends up regretting teasing you because he ends up thinking about Joel instead. It’s hard to admit that the constant bickering is the obvious telltale sign of something more. And he knows there’s something. Joel only weaponizes his tongue when you’re around. Or someone else for that matter. But when it’s just the two of them it’s different. It’s lingering touches and heavy scotch-filled conversations. Sometimes Joel would even whisper so he wouldn’t wake the others. Jack shivers as he remembers how Joel’s lips felt against the shell of his ear. Downright sinful. 

It always remained at that, however. Touches and looks and talks. Nothing more and nothing less. 

“Jack,” you say, your voice drawing him away from thoughts he’s happy to be drawn away from. “How did you end up here? Like with Joel and the rest.” 

“It’s not much of a story. I was lookin’ for a job and came here lookin’ for one.” He lifts his hat and combs his hair back with his fingers. “I actually met Tommy first. Joel doesn’t like the hiring process and says his younger brother is a better judge of character. I met him after I was hired. Then I met the little munchkins.” 

“You mean Sarah and Ellie?” 

“Yes ma’am I do,” he reaches forward, letting his fingers nearly brush yours. He chuckles, "I also know what you're doing, so stop stalling and throw the damn lasso already."

You take your bottom lip between your teeth and all Jack wants to do is pry it away from the sharp edges, "Oh, are we arguing? Should I add this moment to my journal?” you manage to lock your gaze with his, a grin spreading across your face. “Does this mean you love me?" 

He takes a step closer, leaning ever so slightly into your personal space. A hint of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, he breathes, "How 'bout this? You throw that rope, and I'll kiss you, sweetheart. Then you’ll really know what I feel."

Your eyes widen, "You’ll... excuse me?"

A wicked glint in his eyes, he quips, "I'll kiss you, full-blown on the lips. And believe me, it'll be my pleasure to lay one on you."

"Just throw the rope? Aren't you selling a bit short?"

Jack takes another step towards you and you can feel the heat radiating from him. His voice low and husky, he counters, "Fine then, manage to actually lasso something, and then I'll kiss you."

"You're mean. You said you'd only do it if I threw it." You challenge him by taking a step closer and he’s delighted to see it. 

Cupping her face in his hands, he grins, "Changed my mind. And you have yourself to blame for it."

With all his heart Jack wishes for you to make the throw. Something primal and ugly in him finds extreme joy in being the one to kiss you first. He hated to admit it, but his heart broke a little when he found you and Joel together, lips almost about to touch. He hated feeling like an outsider. Especially when it came from Joel.

With a determined glint in your eyes, you take a deep breath, and let it out slowly. Gripping the lasso in your hands, you start to swing it in a circular motion above your head. It’s sloppy and uneven but he can see how much care you’ve put into your stance. Jack watches intently, noting the way you shift your weight from one food to another, a subtle smile playing on his lips.

As the lasso gains momentum, you release it at just the right moment. It sails through the air, forming a perfect loop. Jack's eyes follow its trajectory, silently urging it to find its mark. The loop descends gracefully, and, with a satisfying thud, it settles around a nearby plastic cone and you pull it towards yourself, the plastic moving with ease. 

A triumphant grin breaks across your face as you complete the throw. “I did it,” you gasp in a low tone, panting. Your head suddenly snaps towards him, a shit-eating grin plastered over your perfect lips. “I DID IT!”  

Jack only smiles as he leans in and cradles your face in a rush. He crashes into you, lips meeting yours in an eager, lingering kiss. He teases the seam of your mouth with the tip of his tongue. Just a brief preview of how badly he wants this to happen. His hands slip to your ass, kneading the plump flesh, his cock stiffens at how you moan into his mouth. You press against him and Jack can’t help but roll his hips to feel more of you. It’s been so long. Too long since he felt something warm and tight around his cock. 

He parts away by dragging his lips down to your chin and from there to your neck. He nips at your pulse, feeling it beating against his mouth. 

“Jack,” you breathe. “I—Wow—” 

“Kissin’ is one thing I’m better at,” he chuckles deeply into your ear. “Among other things.” 

He holds you by the neck and gently pulls away. He can’t get enough of the expression you’re giving him; pupils blown and lips slightly parted. Your chest heaves heavily, your pulse beating wildly under his palm. Jack brushes your lips together, smiling upon hearing you whimper. 

“Now, throw that lasso again and I’ll give you another kiss.” 

And it all comes down to horse riding. You should be surprised but you’re not. 

The sun was finally setting over the ranch. A subtle chill settling at the base of your snake as the sun went down. It had been a tiring day full of lasso throwing, ax throwing, and knotting. Your back ached and when the final challenge finally befell you all you wanted to do was go back to your room and sleep. The only thing that gave you an ounce of energy was Jack’s proud smile after every challenge that was won. Joel seemed genuinely impressed. And you were genuinely surprised to find yourself acing every task. Seeing how smug Jack got made your heart flutter and stomach draw tight. 

The two of you had done a lot of kissing that day. It hadn’t gone any further but deep down you really wanted it to. 

You feel a deep sense of Deja Vu when you find yourself staring at Honeydust with a saddle in hand. You take a deep breath, fingers tightening around the leather. The open air gives you a sense of calm, the cloudy sky a pleasure to gaze upon.

Jack touches the small of your back, goosebumps rising across your skin at the gentle touch, “You got this darlin’ don’t worry so much.” 

You briefly glance at the track Joel and Jack had set up for you. Wooden fences stand tall at various intervals, creating a series of jumps that make you sweat just by thinking about them. Your eyes linger on the strategically placed cones that form a zigzag pattern. 

“Honestly no matter what happens I’m impressed,” Joel cuts in, cupping Honeydust’s cheek. Your gaze moves deftly from the track to the man standing before you. As always, he looks amazing in his red and yellow flannel. “You’ve done well sweetheart.” 

“Maybe you should just forfeit and accept we won then,” you answer, smiling. Joel shakes his head. 

“Someone is sure of herself.” 

“Hell yeah, I am.” 

“Look at that,” Jack pipes. “Soundin’ like a true cowboy already.” 

You expertly secure the saddle onto Honeydust's back. The leather feels cool beneath your fingertips as you tighten the straps, ensuring a snug fit. Adjusting the stirrups, you make sure they're the perfect length for your legs. As you stand beside the horse, you can feel the intensity of Joel and Jack's gazes on you. Their eyes trace the curves of your movements, a subtle tension lingering in the air.

With everything in place, you take a deliberate breath and swing yourself onto the saddle. The leather creaks slightly under your weight as you settle into position. Honeydust shifts beneath you. You catch Joel's gaze, and a sly smirk plays on his lips. His eyes linger a moment longer than necessary, you let out a puff of air, your legs tighten around Honeydust..

"Remember, just go with the flow. You and Honeydust are a team," Jack advises and with that, you head off. 

Gently nudging your heels against the horse's side, you urge Honeydust into a graceful gallop around the track. The steadying thud of her hooves pounding against the dirt creates a harmony that molds with the song of the wind, transporting you to a place of serenity. Each hurdle makes your heart jump with excitement. The jumps seem impossible at times. As you zigzag through the cones, you can feel Honeydust's muscles tense and relax under your hands, transitioning from one step to the next with the gracefulness of a dance—

A sudden jolt disrupts the rhythm, and you find yourself tumbling to the ground. You let out a deep groan as your back hits the earth and with the corner of your eye, you see Joel taking hold of Honeydust’s reins, calming the poor palomino. Jack’s face comes into vision a second later. 

"You okay, darlin'?" When you nod and begin to get up, his worry turns to frustration as he glances at Joel. "This was supposed to be about teaching, not pushing her to the damn limit."

"I didn't mean for her to fall, Jack. So don’t act like that was my intention."

“No, your intention was to make me look like I don’t know what I’m doin’.” 

Jack, eyes still glued on Joel, helps you up. Your head is still spinning a little from the adrenaline rush but other than that you feel fine. Your eyes flitting between both men, your stomach twists and turns at how they’re both glaring at each other. This time is different from the arguments. This time they both genuinely look like they’re about to explode. Joel has his jaw tight while Jack has both hands in tight fists. “Guys. . .” 

"Why you gotta make everythin’ personal?" Joel snaps, ignoring you all together. “It was just meant to be a harmless bet.” 

Jack's eyes narrow, he tears his hand away from yours and your heart drops, "You're the one who makes it damn personal by goadin’ me all the damn time."

“That’s. . .” Joel’s eyes grow soft, his demeanor changing entirely. You watch the furrow between his brows relax, his shoulders sagging ever so slightly. “I’m—” 

“Can it,” Jack hisses through gritted teeth and raises a hand. “I don’t want your apology, I just wanna go. Unless you think I’m gonna be bad at that too.” 

You reach out, head still spinning, your fingers graze the back of his jacket and he slips from between your grasp. You part your lips to call out to him. To tell him to come back. But Joel takes a hold of your hand and lowers it with the shake of his head. 

“I know where he’s goin’. Let’s go.” 

“Are you telling me he has a brooding spot?” 

“He does.”

The sun had set. The crickets now singing under the starry night, but Joel can't focus on any of it. He can’t because he might’ve actually screwed everything up for good this time— which would be typical of him.  

After months of contemplating whether he should take the next step or not, he’d finally made Jack snap. That had never been Joel’s intention, obviously. But he wasn’t the best at flirting. Never had been. And when Jack came into his life, all fresh faced and a lashing tongue, he couldn’t help but fall for him a little. 

You’re walking just a little bit behind him, trying to keep up. He can feel you staring at him. Your eyes curious like a newborn gazelle’s. 

“If you stare any harder I’m gonna start blushin’ sweetheart.” 

“I’m. . . I wasn’t. . .” 

“Sure you were,” he sighs. “It wasn’t my intention to be hard on him you know. It just. . . sorta happens. I care a lot about him and I just want him to. . . “ He clamps his mouth shut. What was he supposed to say? How he was hoping that all the teasing would finally push Jack into his arms? How he wanted to do more than touch Jack when he knew no one else could see. 

“You want him to. . .  what exactly?” 

“I don’t know,” he says through gritted teeth. “It’s complicated between us.” 

“You both have a crush on each other and don’t know what to do about it. It’s not that complicated.”

Joel’s mouth opens and closes— then opens again. “And how the hell do you know that?” 

“Because he talks about you a lot,” you answer with a soft smile. “He said he cares about you. And about your opinion.” Joel’s eyes narrow as you rub the back of your head, your eyes dropping to where you would be taking your next step. “I just don't know where I fit in all of this.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You and I almost kissed,” you say finger moving between you two. “Jack and I actually kissed. And well. . . I don’t want to get in the middle of anything. It might be a bit sudden but I like you guys, I care about you, and want you guys to be together if that’s what you want.” 

“It’s not your job to worry about us.” Joel huffs, his guilt gnawing at him. “But I get what you mean. We. . . we didn’t intend to put you in that position. I can assure you this wasn’t some twisted game we were tryin' to play. I can't talk for Jack but I care about you. And I care about him if that makes sense. But I fear that me being emotionally constipated might’ve ruined it with him. He gets mad every time I open my mouth.” 

“That’s because you tease him all the time and honestly he’s not doing any better than you.” Joel’s eyes go wide when you suddenly cradle his cheeks and bring his face towards your own. “And you haven't ruined anything Mr. Miller. You just need to tell him exactly what you’ve been telling me.” 

“You think so?” 

“I know so.” 

Before he can reach he feels the soft touch of your lips. You kiss him slowly—tenderly. Joel follows your lead, parting his lips, he allows you to slip your tongue inside. He sucks on your tongue, enjoying the way your body presses against his. 

When you pull back, you’re completely dazed.

“Now what was that for?” he asks.

“To keep everything even” you answer, smiling. “Now let's go get our brooding cowboy.” 

It doesn’t take long for that to happen. They find Jack sitting on the ground, his back pressed snugly against the wooden fence. He’s staring at the stars. The gentle light streaming down his face and down his neck, Joel’s heart skips a beat at the sight and he feels as though he can’t breathe. 

Only when they walk closer does he notice the bottle of whiskey. He lifts the bottle to his lips and takes a swig, Joel’s eyes follow the way drops of amber trickle down his sun-kissed skin. 

All Joel wants to do is lick the bitter drop off of him. 

The two stop before him. Neither of you knowing what to do or what to say. Joel attempts to apologize by parting his lips and that is the exact moment where Jack finally meets his gaze. 

“I know,” he says curtly. “Sit.” Jack extends the bottle of whiskey. Joel, without a word, sits down and takes the bottle. Just as he’s taking a swig, he notices you’re about to leave.  Thankfully Jack stops that from coming to fruition. “And where do you think you’re goin’? Sit your ass over here.” 

Joel almost cackles at how shocked you look. With the tiniest yelp escaping your lips you sit down right next to Jack. Taking a mouthful of whiskey, Joel extends you the bottle. You take it and chug it down immediately—Jack snorts and finally Joel feels comfortable enough to laugh alongside him. 

“Calm down darlin’, it ain’t runnin’ away.” 

“Sorry,” you hiccup, shoving the bottle into Jack’s chest. “I’m nervous.” 

“Well, don’t be,” Jack sighs and his head falls back against the fence. “I shouldn’t have reacted that way. I—” 

“We know,” Joel says with a fond smile. He throws his arm over Jack’s shoulder and cups the back of his head, his hat tumbling to the ground—it was now or never. 

For the first time, Joel brings their faces together without the tease of what he might or might not do. He kisses Jack tenderly, softly. Just like how he wanted to treat him during all those nights they were alone together. Jack digs his fingers into Joel’s shirt, nails nearly biting into the skin. Much to Joel’s surprise, the other man tastes sweet. Their tongues move together, still unsure but eager to explore. 

When Joel opens his eyes ever so slightly, he sees you staring in awe. 

He nearly breaks away laughing. But also, he can’t really blame you for your expression. 

It really does feel magical. 

You hold your breath. Every nerve ending you have is buzzing with want and arousal. The space between your legs pulsing as you watch Joel tilting his head, slipping his tongue through Jack’s eager lips. Deep down you feel like you’re intruding. That this is a tender moment that should just be between the two men but you can’t help but stay there, like a deer in headlights, watching.  

You shudder at the sound of Jack moaning, his hands grip Joel’s shoulder and host himself up the older man’s lap. He grinds down, swallowing Joel’s gasps, he parts away, a trail of saliva connecting the two. You’re still holding your breath. The tips of your fingers numb, your brain a whirlwind as it registers the sight before you. 

“Stupid old man,” Jack rasps, tilting his head to the side. “Gettin’ all sappy.” Then his heavy gaze finds your struck ones. He reaches out and in a dream-like state you take his hand, his fingers hastily close around your wrist and tugs you towards him. Your gasp is caught in your throat when he kisses you. The taste of Joel and whiskey still heavy on his tongue. 

A hand that doesn’t belong to Jack trails up the curve of your ass and squeezes. A choked-out moan drops from your lips only for Jack to shove his tongue between them. He sucks on your tongue and nips at your bottom lip all the while rolling his hips over Joel’s lap. 

“God, look at you two,” Joel groans, giving your ass another firm squeeze before moving his attention to Jack’s spread thighs. “I want to watch you eat that pretty pussy up, Jack. Bet you want that too. . .” 

Joel palms Jack’s cock through the denim, stroking him with a smug smile. Jack parts away from your lips with a whimper. His chest heaves. “Yeah,” he gasps, staring into your eyes, and his hips jerk, chasing the heat of the other’s palm. “Want you to make a mess of me, sugar.”

“Please,” you answer albeit not really needed. Your body falls back to sit on your heels, Joel crashes his lips against the younger cowboy’s, drinking the noises in like a starved man. He rips his flannel open while straightening himself, the momentum of the movement forcing Jack to grip Joel’s shoulders. He slides off of Joel’s lap, the kiss breaking when he directs his full lust-addled attention to you. 

His gaze is enough for you to start struggling with the buttons of your jeans. You kick them off in a rush and before you can take off your shirt Jack is already laying you down upon the soil, the stars above blinking down at you with mischief. Joel sitting close, pulls your head so you’re nestled comfortably above his lap. His hands cradle your face, thumbs stroking your skin gently. It’s a complete contrast compared to how Jack is. He slides your panties to the side, the pad of his thumb resting right above your clit, he stares at your from between your spread-out thighs. 

“Fuckin’ delicious,” he mutters right before delving in. He drags his tongue slowly up your folds while tenderly stroking your clit. Your back arches off of the earth, your eyes fluttering closed as he goes back down, only to kiss you tenderly. He takes his time with you. His jaw moving and tongue teasing your fluttering entrance. Your breath catches in your throat, your chest rattling, Joel shushes you while praising Jack at the same time. 

When your eyes finally open, you find Joel looking down at you. His thumb traces the underline of your bottom lip and moves down until he reaches the hem of your flannel. Flattening his thumb over your stomach, he pushes the fabric up until he exposes you to the sky completely. He cups both your breasts and smooths his fingers over your tingling nipples. 

“So hard already. . . you must really like what he’s doin’ down there huh?” 

Tears stinging the corner of your eyes, you nod. Your silent reply is answered with a sharp bite to the inside of your thigh. Your body jolts, a gasp of pain rattling your throat. Joel smiles. “I think he wants to hear you, sweetheart.”

“I love it,” you moan and as a reward, he pinches your nipples. 

“Good girl.” 

Jack presses his tongue deeper, your body clenching at both the words and the movement. He groans into your cunt, the bridge of his nose brushing your aching clit deliciously as he swirls his tongue. Your stomach coils tight and you push more of yourself into Joel’s palms, your mouth drops wide. You want more. You need more. You want them both to take and take and take—take until you forget your own damn name. 

“Joel. . .” you breathe. He looks down at you curiously. “I want to suck your cock.” 

Jack stops only for a moment before his eyes flutter closed and loses himself in you. Vaguely you can see the way he grinds down, a groan reverberating between your legs. Joel sucks in a breath and exhales from his nose. “You sure?” 

Your answer is ready on your tongue, and as soon as you give it to him, he expertly unbuttons himself. The tip of his cock pushes against your lips and your breath hitches. Precome smears over the soft flesh, your tongue darting out for a taste, you end up tasting from the source instead. Joel’s hips stutter. 

“Holy fuckin’ hell,” his hips jerk a second time, this time thrusting himself deeper into your mouth. You feel him leaning over, a second later you understand he’s reaching for the other man who is working you toward your orgasm. “Jack com’ere—Let me taste her.” 

Jack doesn’t make Joel repeat himself and unwillingly pulls himself away from between your legs. Your tongue swirls around Joel’s cock as Jack kisses him deeply. He licks himself deep into the older man’s mouth, stealing a moan deep within Joel’s chest. While Jack steals the breath from Joel’s lungs, he pushes two fingers into you with ease. Your eyes rolling, you take more of Joel into your mouth, prompting the other to instinctively thrust deep enough to make you choke around him. 

He parts from Jack with a gasp, “Fuck, that’s it, sweetheart, choke on it.” he says through gritted teeth. Both men look down at you with dark eyes, the shadows caused by the moonlight caress their backs, deepening every crease of their faces. You shudder. 

You’re surprised to see Jack dipping down, lower from where you’re sucking Joel’s cock, he sucks the tender skin of the base, and the sound that Joel makes almost feels inhumane. 

But Jack doesn’t linger. He pulls away from both of you, his torso tall between your legs, he strokes himself at the sight of your mouth full of the man he admires. 

“You like having your mouth full, darlin’? Such a dirty girl allowing two men to have you like this out in the open.” 

You whimper and nod, eyes flooding with tears as Joel shoves himself deeper. Spit and precome trickle down from where his cock stretches your lips. 

“Fuckin’ filthy,” Jack says giving himself a firm squeeze before swiping his palm over the head of his cock. With his other hand, he follows the contour of your leg, reaches all the way to your hip. “You’re ‘bout to feel much fuller.” 

He shoves himself inside you with a single thrust; your channel tightens around him, a moan escaping your throat. Your mouth is pulled away from Joel briefly, gasping for air, before he pulls you back. He adjusts his hips and slides back into your mouth, kneading the back of your neck.

“You feel that? How hot and wet you are? Both of us stretching you?” Jack's voice is gruff as he thrusts into you; your eyes close as pleasure radiates through your body, your skin left tingling. You can hear Joel moan and pant in the background, his cock throbs above your tongue and you hollow out your cheeks.

Your eyes flutter as Jack's cock glides in and out of you; his plunges getting deeper with every thrust. You feel overwhelmed by both of them. You’re left breathless and spinning. You feel only them and nothing else. 

You grip onto Joel to keep yourself teetered to the moment as Jack's movements become more desperate, Joel matching him thrust for thrust. With each gasp, Joel's cock slides further down your throat. 

The tightness inside your body grows; waves of pleasure cascade through you. The pressure builds and builds and builds—You’re so close you can taste it. Jack presses a palm over your mound, adding pressure as he draws quick and tight circles around your clit. Your throat convulses around Joel’s cock and he pulls out, his length resting comfortably above your lips. You breathe heavily against him, his cock slick and warm on your skin. 

“Atta girl,” he coos. “Just a bit more. . . Show us how pretty you look when you come.” 

You feel the pressure between your legs mounting with each hard thrust from Jack, your moans becoming louder and more desperate. Joel encourages Jack to go faster, and with each plunge you feel the tension in your core build higher and higher. 

And finally the coil snaps. 

Your whole body trembles and shakes. Your orgasm still rolling over your body like a violent wave. Jack pumps his hips into yours as he digs his hands into your hips. He keeps thrusting relentlessly, pushing himself as far in as he can before he pulls out. His jaw goes slack, cock gliding over your mound, he spills over your skin. You shudder at the trickle of his seed. 

Joel’s cock slides across your lips, teasing you. Your tongue darts out and quickly wraps around him, you tilt your head to take in all of his length. You push your mouth onto him, bobbing your head up and down until he groans. His hips buck erratically and at the same time you feel the touch of Jack’s mouth against the side of your neck. 

You swallow everything that he offers you, savoring every moment of the taste of him. You stay close to him until his breathing returns to normal, his thighs shaking underneath you as he pulls out. 

“Holy shit,” Jack chokes out as he collapses on top of you, head right above your chest. Joel wipes the sole tear that had escaped you eye and smiles. You bring his palm to your lips and kiss the rough skin. 

“It’s going to be hard walking away from all of this,” you whisper, shuddering when Jack’s mouth moves against the side of your breasts. 

“Who says you have to walk away?” 

You don’t have it in you to go into the details of your life and how you have to go. Or entertain the idea that maybe the things that you thought were important aren’t as essential that you thought after all. It’s pure chaos and right now all you want is to feel their warmth against your bare skin under the stars. 

For now, you are content and feeling grateful for the two amazing men who coincidentally made themselves an inseparable part of your life.  

[madamegemknight]

How about MOTU hot takes? From any iteration (the 80s cartoon, the comics, the cgi reboot, the other serious reboot)

rubs my hands together maniacally. boy oh boy crispy you are ENABLING me here we go >:3

The 1987 movie really isn't as bad as people make it out to be. It's not great, don't get me wrong, but the people who made it were clearly passionate about what they were doing and it's a fun (if somewhat aggravating at points) ride. Dolph Lundgren is a good He-Man who understands that the character is just as much about his heart as he is his muscles, the way it and the Power Tour serve as sister experiences to each other with their incorporation of music and Earth storylines is fascinating to examine, and while Julie's subplot about her dead parents is utterly pointless, I think Kevin and Julie are two genuinely likable characters who deserve a second chance in the grander scheme of things.

The Greatest Show on Eternia is the worst episode of the Filmation series and should have never been made, but the way Masters of The Multiverse chose to "address" it was immature, childish, and nearly tipped the comic into edgelord territory for me. If something is bad, you should take the time to figure out what went wrong, then try and fix it - you shouldn't murder the only tolerable character in that episode and then have an aside about how the Eternian Circus is being thrown into chaos because of that murder that does nothing to progress the overall plot!!! wadda heck!!!!

CGI!Krass did literally nothing wrong. She was a deeply traumatized kid who was absolutely correct regarding pretty much everything (especially wanting to guard the Tiger Tribe instead of running off and ignoring it forever like Adam did, considering the later reveal that the Dark Masters kidnapped Justine), and the fact that the show is more willing to blame her flawed behavior on "evil rock that makes you evil in her helmet" than acknowledge she watched her parents die and literally cannot be in enclosed spaces without Adam as a result is legitimately disgusting. CGI tries so hard to have their cake and eat it too that they end up portraying Krass as in the wrong for wanting things to stay the same with Adam while ALSO establishing in one of the tie-in books that if she'd never met Adam she would have never even partially recovered from her trauma.

Speaking of which, considering that this IS apparently a hot take outside of my own little circle of incredibly cool and correct mutuals: CGI Season 3 is bad. It is so bad it makes the flaws of the previous two seasons, which I could mostly ignore up until that point, painfully obvious. It is genuinely upsetting to me that a series where the SOLE SURVIVOR OF A GENOCIDE BRAINWASHED INTO BELIEVING THE PROPAGANDA HE WAS FED ABOUT THE COLONIZATION OF HIS PEOPLE is made into a villain will be some kid's introduction to MOTU, ESPECIALLY considering how tolerant and accepting the Filmation series was.

Orko is a good character and plays a vital role in the franchise overall! Wow yeah it's weird to remember how that used to be a hot take in any non-tumblr MOTU fan community until like...2021. Crazy that huh.

Maybe not a hot take per se, but I don't personally think that Trollans have that different of a lifespan/age rage from Eternians. As far as I'm aware, the only implication of that being true is from the UK comics, and even there it's said that "it has been suggested" that Orko is over 500, not that he is - and this is also the same comic that said that nobody knows what Trolla is like, something that is patently not true, so I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say that maybe the UK comics have some slightly incorrect information and possibly shouldn't be blindly trusted when determining major factors about a character! There are several times in the Filmation series that he either flirts with or shows a very clear attraction to adult Eternians (something that would be Weird if he was aging at a different rate than an Eternian), and while he does call Adam "kid" when they first meet, that's just how Orko talks - he says "atta boy" unironically for crying out loud. I have always envisioned Orko being around the same age as Adam, if a little bit younger, and while Trollans probably do age at a different rate on account of being a different species, it's probably not to that extreme of a difference otherwise it would have been mentioned elsewhere.

Netflix She-Ra is not special for having Adora start out as a brainwashed soldier who has a crisis over realizing she's been fed imperialist/fascist propaganda her entire life. That is literally the plot of The Secret of The Sword, which was released in 1985. I love Netflix She-Ra dearly and always will, as without it I would have never become a fan of MOTU in the first place, but head in my hands if someone calls it bold and innovative for doing things that the OG series did back in the 80s one more time, I am gonna wind up on the evening news 🙃

[fuckingmilkovich]

Can I please request a gallagher sister reader where the reader is the gallaghers younger sister and they are very protectjve of her and they all find out her boyfriend abuses her and is mean and they try to help her get out , she makes excuses for all the bruises and broken bones and eventually they find out its him and they protect her thanks

Please can ian, mickey (she's like a younger sister to him and is dead protective) fiona, lip, carl and debbie be in it thanks

MY BOY by BILLIE EILISH

gallagher family x sister! reader | angst | fluff

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

❛he was really sweet in the beginning. . .but then. . .❜

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

ETHAN was the sweetest guy you have met in your entire life. you were going to school with him, but he was always this strange, quiet kid in class. he was that person that nobody wanted to talk to because everyone thought that he was a creep. but you wanted to get to know him and see if the gossip was true. you kept your relationship with ethan in secret because you knew your siblings and how protective they were; you just wanted to enjoy a new relationship alone. first two months were great; you felt like you had found a good partner; you felt like home when you were with him; he was your safe place. . .

but suddenly everything changed; ethan stopped being this cute guy you described as your soulmate. at first, he just made comments about your look that were meant to make you hate yourself, making you more traceable to his manipulations. you were in love with him; that’s why you didn’t think straight about what was going on. you excused him because he was your lovely boyfriend, and of course he wouldn’t hurt you. how stupid you were.

the verbal abuse was painful, but you didn’t want to be alone again, so you decided to ignore it. maybe he was having a bad time; you needed to understand that as his girlfriend. . . but then he started practicing violence against you. at first, he just slapped you from time to time, and again, you thought it was not that big deal.

right now, you're just scared to leave him or to tell someone about ethan. so you just accepted your fate, letting him destroy yourself.

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ ⸻⸻⸻ ❝ they start to notice ❞ ⸻⸻⸻ ✯

it started at every friday movie night. it was a tradition between you and mickey. you’ve always waited until the end of the school week to just chill with milkovich and forget about the world. but this time you wanted to postpone this. it was weird, but you were just hoping that he wouldn’t care about it. unfortunately, he started to ask questions: why? ; what happened? ; can i help you? etc., to avoid the rest of the questions, you said yes to the movie night. but it wasn’t the same as always. you weren’t watching a movie; you were just looking blindly at the wall and anxiously biting your lips. he was suspicious about your behavior, but he also knew that you weren’t going to answer his questions, so he decided to leave you alone and ignore all of this. maybe you just had a bad day, and all you wanted was to sit quietly. he hoped that it was just a bad day.

❛tell them, tell ‘em, tell them the truth❜

next was fiona, she found you in the bathroom when you forgot to lock the door. she was looking at you crying, almost having a panic attack. you were mumbling something to yourself, but even you don't understand what you're saying. fiona was your comfort person, but you didn’t want her to look at you in this situation. after realizing that you were being watched by someone, you looked at the door and saw your older sister. your heart started to hurt, but you just whispered that everything is okay and closed the door without explanation.

❛tell them, tell ‘em, tell them the truth❜

your little sister, debbie was the third person to see something strange about your behavior and your appearance. while playing with franny she saw the scar on your cheek when she asked you about it. you just shrugged your shoulders, saying it was nothing, and you just hurt yourself while playing with a stray dog a few days ago. she didn’t believe you, of course; what a stupid excuse that was. you changed the topic, scared of telling the truth about the scars on your body. your siblings don’t know about your relationship with ethan miller. and you didn’t want them to know about this boy.

❛tell them, tell ‘em, tell them the truth❜

you started to run off excuses for things like changes in your humor, the scars on your body, etc. you didn’t want your family to worry about you because there was nothing to worry about. you were always a strong person in front of your family; you never cried or complained about your life. you have always been this funny and always smiling person in the group. you are always saying that you are great, even if it isn’t the truth. you just wanted to be a good example to your younger siblings, and ethan’s behavior towards you cannot change that.

one day, when you were back from school, you saw all of your family members (plus mickey) sitting on the couch and looking at you. you were confused about this situation, so you just sat down on the chair next to the couch and waited until someone was going to say something.

“why are you looking at me like that, guys?” you laughed nervously, being scared that they found out about your relationship.

“who did this to you?” ian pointed out your bruised face with a concerned look. you rolled your eyes, thinking about another excuse, knowing that you were exposed and nothing would work, but you needed to try.

“oh. . . you know, it’s nothing. i just tipped over and lost my balance, and that’s it.” you said, faking a smile. all you want at this moment is to go to the bedroom, fall asleep, and never wake up again. you hate situations like this, when all attention is focused on you. you hated being put on the spot.

“that’s bullshit. who the fuck did this to you, y/n!” milkovich shouted, but not with bad intention. he was just worried about his, maybe not biological, but younger sister. he doesn’t recognize you anymore, and neither do you nor your whole family.

❛tell ‘em, tell ‘em, tell ‘em, tell ‘em,

tell ‘em your-❜

“my boyfriend. my boyfriend did this to me.” after a few minutes of sitting quietly, you finally spoke the truth.

“you have a boyfriend? how long?” lip asked, shocked. you never had any secrets with your siblings; you always told them everything about your private things, just to listen to their point of view or advice.

your heart cracked when you heard the disappointment in his voice. this was another thing you were afraid of: that the most important people, in your life would think that you didn’t trust them.

“almost a year,” you said, and your eyes started to water because you were scared that ethan would find out that you betrayed him.

“why didn't you tell us?” fiona asked while hugging a crying debby.

“because i’m scared of him and i didn’t want to be weak in front of you guys,” you said with a tired voice. “i’m abused for eight months now; i think it’s endless. every time i thought it was over, he came back. i just i can't get out." you said, almost whispering. the silence was loud this time, and you felt powerless. you were just tired at this moment.

you felt debbie’s arms wrapping along your body, hugging you and crying into your chest. “don’t cry, princess; i’m okay.” you smiled softly at her, unable to watch her cry.

“y/n, where does that bastard live?” carl was also angry, knowing that his sister was abused by some loser, and he didn’t know about it.

“i need to be alone now.” i really need to cry you thought, going back to your room.

“we will help her,” ian said, smiling lightly at everyone in the room, knowing that he needed to rescue his sister.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

i can do a part two if you guys want to!

hope that’s what you wanted, again sorry for any mistakes!!

[adarkrainbow]

Do you think the way people talk and discuss Walt's "Classic Three" (Snow White, Cinderella and Aurora) is accurate or close to what happens in the movies? I mean, they are always referred as excessively passive, weak, only interested on their looks (vain? superficial?), useless, beauty being their only good quality... And I ask myself, when was the last time these people watched the movies? Snow White negotiated her stay in the house, Cinderella survived a life of pure abuse & orchestrated her own escape from the tower, and, while not very much is shown about Aurora, she was about to sacrifice her personal happiness for the kingdom's sake (something Philip didn't have in mind)that takes courage! They don't wield swords but they are much stronger that they appear, and while I get some of the critique, I hate the "strong only means kicking butt" idea, like, it's incomplete, and superficial, and it can be reductive & dangerous (for the girls, and for the boys too!)

I have talked about this before in many posts, and others have talked about this way better than me, so I'll try to break down my opinion in a quite short and concise way. And as usual, you probably won't be surprised to find me again, neutral on those topic.

On one side: people are unfairly criticizing and judging too harshly the "original trio" of Disney movies. This has been explained by many people on this website, so I won't expand on this too much, but indeed, there is a mixture of superficial viewing of these movies, of not-contextualizing them, of projecting modern-day values and expectations over nearly century old pieces, and of a general need to criticize and rant about everything (especially big corporations and the "classics" of culture - whenever something becomes a classic, a backlash awaits). Cinderella is a much more surprising and strong character than you'd expect. These movies do teach the idea that being strong doesn't mean simply kicking everybody and proving yourself to be a lone wolf (especially since there's a strong focus on friendship in those stories). The whole "the prince kissing Sleeping Beauty in her sleep is rape culture" is ridiculous ; especially since in the Disney version it was made to be a true love kiss, between people who were in love, and the whole context was the breaking of a curse ; AND the actual rapist-origins of the story are from a 16th century Italian fairytale nobody knew about until the Internet dug it up in the 2010s. Even today many people who invoke the rapist-story are unable to tell you who wrote it or where it comes from, because they just latch onto the idea "Oh yes there's a rape story." and that's it, no more research for them.

Heck, Sleeping Beauty is even surprising for its time AND for the Disney criteria by having elderly, non-attractive female leads who do more than the actual male hero and ultimately are the true focus of the tale - the fairy godmothers. Same things with Snow-White - to make the dwarfs the equal of the titular Snow-White, even more to focus more character development and screen time on them rather than the princess, and to give them unique characterisation and treat them as people rather than plot-props... This was BIG, this was not something usual, and this was a game-changer. Overall - I say the same thing for fantasy literature - a lot of the "new" or "modern" twists people expect from today's fictions are awaiting you in the past. Everybody complains about traditional fantasy not having POC main characters or not having strong female lead that is not sexualized - Earthsea had all those by the 60s and 70s, and it was just as influential on fantasy as Lord of the Rings or Elric.

However... Recognizing that a lot of the criticism is unfair and overblown, and that the backlash is ignorant and caricatural does NOT mean we should just blindly worship and naively accept those movies as untouchable, sacred relics that cannot be criticize. If there is a backlash, it means there is a reason for such criticism to arise in the first place, and we must identify why - to give back the problem in its proper proportions, and not in the exaggerated state we are offered today.

So... The other side - why is this Disney trio not fitting our modern world?

And the answer is very simple. They are heroines of 17th and 19th centuries tales, that were adapted for an early 20th century American mindset. They are bound to age or be unfit for the 21st century. Placing them back into context allows us to understand how great, good or groundbreaking they were in their time - but it does not mean they hold up to modern-day characters. Some elements of the Disney movies aged better than ever, some are still resonating today, and this is what gives them an "out-of-time" feeling. Yet... yet there is a reason why the "Disney princess" had to evolve and had to change herself to fit a new audience. Why did the characters of Rapunzel and Elsa of Disney had such huge success and were beloved by the masses? Because they were answering early 21st century needs, society and expectations, the same way the original trio did for their time.

A character like Aurora of Sleeping Beauty couldn't work today because she literaly is a paper-thin character that does nothing throughout the story and is truly more of a MacGuffin than anything. Oh yes she speaks, has a song, has feelings and emotions - and there is this very progressive idea of having Aurora be unhappy and traumatized by discovering her princess heritage, which aged very well! But the rest? She is a baby ; then she sings about being in love ; then she cries about not wanting to be a princess ; then she sleeps ; then she is married. The story is done and moved by the interesting characters about her, but not by her - Maleficent wants to destroy Aurora, Philip wants to save Aurora, the fairy godmothers wants to protect Aurora... I do not recall which feminist created this theory, but there is the test of the lamp. If you can replace a female character by a beautiful lamp, this is bad for you. And unfortunately Disney's Sleeping Beauty "succeeeds" at the test of the lamp, since Aurora's massively passive involvment in the story makes her a perfect fit. The king and queen create the most beautiful lamp you ever saw ; Maleficent angry curses the lamp to be destroyed ; the fairy godmothers are tasked with keeping the lamp safe ; later the prince discovers the lamp in the woods and wants to have it for his living room, so he plans to return later ; meanwhile the fairy godmothers return the lamp to their rightful owners the king and queen, while Maleficent captures the prince who returned in hope of taking the lamp ; etc etc... It does not change the story one bit.

Another, even more obvious example, of the "age" of those characters - Snow-White. Disney's Snow-White is the very embodiment of the "50s housewife" cliche, and thus was a perfect fit for this first-half-of-the-20th-century American society. In the Grimm story, the little girl enters the house, takes the food, goes to sleep, and upon meeting the dwarfs they make a bargain of chores in exchange of protection. In the Disney movie? She cleans the house all by herself, without asking anybody, just in hope it will please people. Which is a very "fairytale" move... But still is perceived badly as just the typical idea that "A good girl cleans up the house, that we ask her or not". The fact Snow-White also acts as a mother figure for the dwarfs despite being a teenage girl is... yeah it is questionable and there's a whole baggage of the girl existing as solely a future mother and a housekeeper-in-training. Let's not even talk of the infantilization of the dwarfs just because of their small size despite being clearly much older than her...

So yeah, I always take a neutral stance on things (except for a few stuff), and this is no exception. There is an unfair treatment of the original Disney princesses, definitively, and people are misreading the original movies... But when we take a critical look we also have to recognize that these characters were designed for a given society and a given time, and that now they made their time, we do not need them anymore and we can move on to other characters while fondly remembering them or taking inspiration from them. Erasing these characters would be stupid and absurd - but it is just as stupid and absurd to try to cling onto them constantly and to try to make them fit everywhere and anywhere (yes I am taking a jab at Disney and their perpetual recycling and their favoritism of remakes over new movies...).

.

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Thanksgiving Reruns 2024--Chapter 3: Black Friday (pt. 1/3)

It’s that time again; the holidays!  I would like to wish all my followers who celebrate it a very happy Thanksgiving.  As a thank you to you (as well as my followers who DON’T celebrate), I present you with 3 Thanksgiving related stories I’ve written in the past.  Enjoy!

Title: Black Friday—Chapter 1 of 3

Rating: G

Words: 1442

Summary: CS as single parents AU. As the holidays approach, Emma’s son Henry and Killian’s daughter Alice ask for a specific storybook which will ONLY be available for purchase on Black Friday.

 Other Chapters: 1 2 4 5

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Black Friday—Chapter 1

One week before Thanksgiving

“Do you really think it’ll work?” she asked, leaning forward, eyes bright and delighted.

“It’s perfect!” he answered. “Trust me!  Our plan will work like a charm.  Just make sure you give him Miss French’s flier and make him see how much you want it.  I’ll do the same with her.  By Christmas, we’ll be celebrating our success.”

She grinned.  “Oh, I hope you’re right!  Can you imagine?  If we pull this off, everything will change forever!”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The morning after Thanksgiving

The alarm clock roared to life as a way, way too enthusiastic version of Jingle Bell Rock blared from the speakers of her clock radio. Emma groaned, reaching blindly over to slam the button on the top of the alarm and make the noise stop.

3 am.  It was entirely too early for any sane person to be awake.  Even the early birds were still peacefully snoozing in their nests.  It was only the crazy humans, intent on getting the best deals on the best Christmas gifts who would submit themselves to this kind of torture.

She hoped the payout was worth it.

Her bed was so warm, so comfortable, that for a split second, Emma considered just forgetting about the whole thing and going back to sleep, but then she thought about Henry.

It had been a difficult year for him, for both of them really.  They’d had a great life in New York.  Her bail bonds gig had paid well enough that they could afford a wonderful apartment. Henry had lots of friends at school.  She’d had a guy she loved, a guy she really thought was the one.  He’d seemed great with Henry, and Henry had really liked him.  

Walsh had proposed a week before Halloween, and Emma had really considered saying yes.  Granted, she didn’t feel the epic, sweeping, melt-into-a-pile-of-goo passion you see in movies, but she did love Walsh, and he could be a wonderful addition to the little family circle she and Henry had put together.

At least that’s what she thought.

Emma had made up her mind to accept the proposal when it all went south.  Turns out Walsh wasn’t at all who he said he was.  He’d been playing a long con on her, doing his level best to steal her money and assets right from under her nose, and she felt like a fool for buying into it his b.s.  She was smarter than this!  She ran the honey trap on bail jumpers; she knew the playbook.  How did she fall for it?

She’d just so badly wanted that perfect, white-picket-fence life for herself, and especially for her ten-year-old son, that’s how.

After everything had so epically crashed and burned with Walsh, Emma had just wanted to get away.  She’d wanted–needed–a new start, and so when her brother David had mentioned the opening for a deputy in the tiny town of Storybrooke, Maine, where he lived with his wife Mary Margaret, Emma had jumped at the opportunity.

Within a week, she’d uprooted her whole life–and her son’s whole life–and moved to Storybrooke.  For the moment, she and Henry were crashing with David and Mary Margaret in their tiny loft apartment until Emma could find them their own place.

The move had been the most difficult on Henry.  All he’d ever known was back in New York–friends, school, entire lifestyle.  Small town Storybrooke was like a totally different world than the booming metropolis he was used to.  Her normally happy, vivacious kid had been quiet, almost withdrawn since they’d arrived in Storybrooke.

Emma knew kids were resilient, that Henry would bounce back, but she felt so damn guilty for causing him stress.

And so, naturally when Henry had come home a week ago, excitement bumped up to a level ten, talking a mile a minute and waving a flier in her face, Emma had taken notice.  Turns out the school librarian Belle French–who was also the owner and proprietor of “A Tale as Old as Time”, Storybrooke’s best (and only) bookstore–was holding a special Black Friday sale on a very special storybook, entitled Once Upon a Time.  She had one copy, and one copy only, and the rare book would normally sell for an exorbitant price–somewhere between an arm and a leg.  On Black Friday, however, she was offering the book for dirt cheap, but there was a catch.  The price was only good during the special, Black Friday early bird sale.  Doors opened at 4 am.   First person to touch the book had the opportunity to purchase it.

Henry had always loved stories, and he’d been particularly fascinated with fairy tales.  Naturally, a book chalk full of them would be right up Henry’s alley.  Faced with the prospect of getting Henry the perfect gift, the gift that would finally bring him some joy after the difficult last few weeks, it was a no brainer.

Waking up a few hours before the crack of dawn was a small price to pay for her kid’s happiness.

Emma pushed aside the covers and got up, throwing on the first pair of clean clothes she could find, twisting her hair into a messy bun, and then downing the strong coffee her sister-in-law had set to brew for her.  By the end of her second cup, she was feeling almost human, and she was ready to brave the hordes of Black Friday shoppers to attain her prize.

It was a quick, five minute walk to the center of town where “A Tale as Old as Time” was located, and Emma made it just as the cheerful brunette proprietor was unlocking the doors and letting her first customers in.  Emma knew just where her target was.  She’d scoped out the bookstore over the weekend, getting the lay of the land and mapping out her plan of attack.  She knew just where to go, and within sixty seconds of the store opening, she’d reached her target.  It was right there, in sight.

Emma reached for the book, her hand made contact–just as another hand did as well.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Killian Jones had lived a difficult life.  He’d seen more heartache and tragedy in his thirty-five years of existence than most people did in a lifetime.  Aye, it had been an incredibly difficult life, but it did have one bright, shining spot.

His daughter Alice.

His one-night-stand with Alice’s mom, Eloise, had been a mistake of epic proportions, but Killian would never regret it, because it gave him the greatest blessing of his life, his precious little starfish.

Nine months after their dalliance, Eloise had suddenly showed up on his doorstep, placed their newborn daughter in his arms, and then walked out of their lives forever.  For himself, Killian couldn’t have cared less.  He felt nothing but revulsion for the woman who’d gotten him blind drunk and then taken advantage of him that night nine months ago.  In the bright morning light, he’d been disgusted with her, with himself, and with the entire sordid affair.  He’d have been more than happy if he never saw her noisome face again.

No, he didn’t care if she walked away from him, but his heart had broken at the fact that his tiny, perfect daughter had been abandoned by her mother.  Killian knew from first hand the agony of being abandoned by a parent, and it tore him up inside that his beloved daughter had to deal with it as well.

Though having a child was the farthest thing from his mind at the time, there’d never been any doubt what he would do.  Alice was his daughter, his precious child, and he would do right by her no matter what.

Ten years later, he thanked his lucky stars every single day that he’d made the choice to raise her.  Alice was the most important person in the world to him, and there was nothing he wouldn’t do for her.

So naturally, when she came home from school all excited about the book Miss French was selling, Killian knew exactly how he would be spending his very early Black Friday morning.

He’d arrived at “Tale as Old as Time” just as Miss French opened the doors.  He rushed to the back of the store, his prize in sight.

He grabbed the book just as a gorgeous blonde made contact.  

“Um excuse me,” she said with a frown.  “This book is mine.”

It appeared this shopping expedition was going to be more difficult–although possibly more intriguing–the blonde truly was breathtaking–than he’d expected.

Killian grinned.  He’d never backed down from a challenge, and he didn’t intend to begin now.

Next Chapter–>

[bobbydagen24]

another Harsh truth the fandom is Hypocritical when it comes to Creeks Return in TBGO since all the things they complained about also applies to Bro zone in TBT.

for starters everything the fans complained about with Creeks return in TBGO is very much an issue in TBT such as

lack of remorse. yep the bros spend the whole film showing no guilt they only show a nano second of remorse after their victim finally stands up to them and leaves and that's it for the film and they never actually acknowledge any wrongdoing at all.

lack of consequences. big yep despite repeating their crappy behaviours and arguably behaving even worse they get taken back in the end unconditionally after Treating Branch terribly for no Real Justifiable Reason.

lack of doing anything to earn another chance. also big yep the Bros get captured and are literally forced to let Branch lead to save their own lives as well as Floyd's and afterwards their second chance is seen as earned for some reason? Despite this being a self serving action.

at the very least Creek was made to apologise Bro zone couldn't even be bothered to do that the simple truth is fans just like characters for surface level qualities

such as their outwardly goofy personalities so your more keen to make excuses for them actually being very bad toxic people really but Creek is more outwardly unlikable

so your all not as keen to see him as a flawed human and are eager to write him off even tho everything that you claim to find wrong about Creek's return also applies to Bro zone when you think about.

look I will admit that while I've always Defended the writing choice to bring Creek back in TBGO and have him Re-join the village I will admit it was written very badly.

it was way too Rushed and kinda ruined what could have been an interesting story arc for Branch and Poppy and Creek himself if they'd actually made him a touch more sympathetic

and Regretful over his actions while having the others be forced to acknowledge that he was placed in a pretty Horrifying situation and reacted in a bad but Human way.

​

Rather than sticking with a Highschool Jerk persona which just made the fandom Blindly Hate him even more

but the only posotive thing I will say about Creeks return is that unlike Bro zone Creek never wasted his second chance in the tv show sure he never seemed all that remorseful

​

but he also never betrayed the characters Trust again Creek was given a second chance and he didn't take it for Granted

unlike Branch's Brothers who slipped back into old Habits very quickly and behaved even worse than when they were younger by being verbally cruel to him unprovoked.

and yet were still given a third chance at the very end despite showing next to no remorse and no acknowledgment of their behaviour and actions towards Branch and each other.

so there isn't really anything that makes Bro zone more redeemable than Creek the only difference is the movie gives them two second chances with no strings attached

while the first movie Removes any such choice for Creek after his first betrayal even tho it was under extreme duress and literal torture.

this is something that Really doesn't make sense to me and Hence why I say this fandom cares more about surface level likability for its characters Rather than them being actual Good people

( Barb is the most extreme example tbh )

the majority of the fandom seems to view Repeated crappy behaviour for no Real Reason other than Bruce and JD didn't Grow up in over 2 Decades.

and Jump to the extremes of lifelong abandonment and emotionally abusive Behaviour when their slightly annoyed as acceptable and Human.

and worth forgiving even with no Real acknowledgment of wrongdoing or efforts to make amends.

while someone giving in to fear after being nearly eaten alive and tortured on your own by creatures 20 times your size is seen as irredeemable by the larger fandom.

and him being accepted back after this is seen as the worst thing ever because he showed next to no Remorse but did acknowledge wrongdoing and apologised to the people he wronged unlike Bro zone.

and Poppy herself literally tells Branch and by extension the audience that yes Creek has flaws

( that being giving in to fear under extremely stressful circumstances) but they are forgivable Human flaws and can be Helped.

it wasn't written Great and it was Hella Rushed but this is actually a mature message so its Hilarious how the majority of the fandom flipped their shit and whined like Babies at this episode 😂😂😂😂

yet when this message was taken and applied to bad people who this message doesn't actually apply to given their motives and Repeated crappy behaviours

suddenly the fandom thinks this kinda message is mature and posotive even tho its literally just encouraging kids to stay in abusive relationships.

I Guess that was Creek's fatal flaw Rather than being a Hostage who turned traitor in a moment of panic to save his own life

he should have abandoned his family twice and verbally abused them because he's slightly annoyed when he's expected to put effort in to the relationship then the fandom would love him 😕😕

it Really is no Different to the extreme Blind fans who love characters like Walter White and Dexter Morgan and Joe Goldberg and Tony Soprano

not because you like a complex bad guy character but because you think they're actually Great people and think them being likable and charismatic means everything they do is excusable.

but write off other characters who do similar actions but don't happen to have those surface level likable persona's.

in short your in love with characters who you invented in your heads not the ones the film actually showcased sooo yeah I'll end this by saying to you the same thing I said to Fifty Shades of Grey fans in the past

you wanna enjoy a fictional work by all means do that but trying to claim its a Healthy way to look at Relationships and forgiveness in real life is when you've crossed a line and need to be stopped.

because you may end up actually doing Harm to yourselves or to other people.

anyway cheers for Reading have a nice Day

[9800sblog]

hi there! hope ure doing good today 💛

so this is like a fun game i send my favourite kpop tarot readers 😊

out of the groups u stan (preferably someone who u've done a "X as a boyfriend" reading for), who would u give a chance if ever they ask you out and why?

answer lightheartedly 💋

thank you and i loveeee ur blogs so much 🥰

I haven't done many of those readings tho!! I am too picky, so I'll do those I would set up with friends

I went a lot by how much I personally feel that these people are trustworthy based on my readings, there's no one else I remember that stood out like that to me. and I didn't choose only kpop because I actually don't know that many idols (adhd

in no particular order

lewis hamilton (formula 1)

if you like complete devotion and obsession, the type to have a secret crush on you for years and watch you from afar while secretely planning to sneak into your life. best friends to lovers vibes. he seems very soft when comfortable, and just wants to cuddle with his person watching movies and playing with his dog. message you everyday, tell you all the details he finds beautiful and still gives you advices or fashion tips that genuinely help and aren't just blatant criticism. seems very soft spoken with pink colored glasses. for those that want to be pampered and have princess treatment, that's your man.

park seonghwa (ateez)

honestly, all of ateez depending on what's your type

again, obsession. this guy would respect the shit out of your freedom and choices, he's the type to love no matter what, as long as you come home to him he's so so happy. seonghwa would love to be friends with your friends, part of your family, intertwined in every piece of your life, but the second you say "I need my space", he's out of your sight for as long as you need. seonghwa is a major extrovert, so he's the type of boyfriend to host friend dinners, house parties and take many many many quirky pictures. this is a more fun and dynamic guy in comparison to lewis, but they are both intensely devoted and decided tho. seonghwa would buy the ring on the first date.

wonyoung (ive)

she'd teach you self love by showing how much she loves you, accepts you unconditionally and trusts you blindly. incredibly sweet and caring person, she's so the type to give random little love messages throughout the week/day and spend hours making handmade gifts for her person. the type to give you one of her clothes and a sample of her perfume to feel like she's always around. I think she'd also transform when you're alone, be way more fun, childish and weird, probably dirty in a funny way that'd make you two feel close. she'd treat her person with so much delicacy and pure love, that even the toughest man wouldn't dare to not melt and accept that they're just a little flower in her well taken care garden.

taylor swift

is in love with love, in love with life, nothing can make her genuinely heartbroken, the type of love she has is so intense, it will be passed through lifetimes. she has such an extended knowledge of different types of people, relationships, arts, patterns of behavior, communications, etc. there is not a single person in this world she wouldn't be able to give genuine love to. but she's also extremely picky with those she actually opens up to, she makes everyone think they know her but only you would and it'd be your little secret. secrecy is something taylor (secretely) loves, her life is very very public so we feel like we know everything about her and her relationships, but there is so much deep inside her head that only someone really really reaaaaaaaaaaaally worthy would know! she is in love with connecting, and once she finds a genuinely good man, she will always always protect and take care of you, and make you feel like you're living in a dream or a movie scene. (connecting with her to write this was so much fun! she is so nice and was giving high-fives when she liked something kkkkkk

[cursegirlrabbit]

Wish review cause I've got stuff to say

Do not read if you have not seen the movie and don't want spoilers. Also you don't have to read if you uncared about my opinion I just have words to say about this movie but I am not saying anyone has to have the same opinions as me.

So first point. Storyline.

I felt it was to...rushed like everything happened so fast from Asha finding out the truth to her wishing on star, revolting and then the ending. It felt very rushed and it was hard to feel any stakes or tension, didn't even get a real feel for the characters. Like Enchanto gave us the slow stake of the house and the magic slowly fading and breaking. Same with coco and him finding his relative that will wish him home while letting him play music.

Even little mermaid did a better job of storyline of Showing Ariel and her interests, her meeting Eric, saving Erica, meeting Ursula and then the whole three days to make Eric fall for her.

A rushed storyline brings me to the second point. Characters. Now I liked Asha but I didn't really get to KNOW her. All I know of ashamed is she's caring, can draw and has alot of faith in people and their wishes. Which is wonderful...but that's all I got from her. With Miguel we know he's mischief, loves to play music, fast runner, overly friendly and stubborn. With rapunzel we learned she was innocent, naive, artistic, a jack of all trades, curious and anxious.

Asha kind of felt like snow white or Aurora, there just wasn't much to her.

I also felt magnifico revealed his true colours really quickly to a girl he didn't know very well and didn't trust. I mean she wasn't even his apprentice yet and he outright told her that not all the wishes got granted and majority of them float around. Like...why? Why did he tell her that when she didn't even work for him yet or show any reason for him to trust her with this information. Hell the whole movie wouldn't have happened if he HADNT said anything

Speaking of Magnifico, I didn't mind him as a villain. He reminded me of Ernesto from coco and maleficent. And I understood what he represented, at least in my eyes this movie showed alot of toxic relationship and toxic manipulation method and techniques. Such as magnifico telling and expecting the people to just listen and follow him blindly just because he does his duty as their king

'I let you live here for free and don't charge rent, I clean up your messes, I give and give and give and all I ask for is respect' sounds alot like how toxic parents manipulate their young children as well as toxic spouses.

Ashas friends were also not very flushed out as characters, I barely remember their names except for dahlia. The other friends I only remember from their main trait, guy who sneezes, the quiet girl, the chill out guy, the short angry one, sad Simon and one more girl I don't remember. The friends only showed up for short times and we just didn't learn much about them

And one more thing, the MUSIC. Like...Disney.. come on. I found none of those songs or music pieces as catching my attention. This is a company that gave us hellfire, part of your world, let it go, every song of coco, we don't talk about Bruno, we are the three caballeros, kiss the girl, be a man, son of man, two worlds!

Also, the ENDING! I took two morals from this movie. How to spot toxic relationships and when to leave (this from the people and especially the queen who once she realises he is no longer the man she loves and he won't change and is hurting people. Stands up to him even though she LOVES him) and the second being 'don't rely on others to make your dreams and wishes come true' wonderful! Yes accept help to make your dreams come true but don't rely on others or give up.

But then...THEY GIVE ASHA A WAND?!! so that SHE can grant wishes?!! WHAT DID WE JUST LEARN!!?! yes I know asha would do a fairer and better job but...but COME ON!!

But now the GOOD POINTS

I liked the animation at first it was odd but that's because I'm not used to the style. But it was still lovely and the effects with the magic especially the wishes and the forbidden magic was fantastic.

The concept. The idea of someone realising that their beloved King is actually misusing and betraying them is a very nice idea and I love the idea of showing kids how to spot this kind of manipulation from adults they are supposed to trust.

I also loved the concepts of Wishes. Of the people feeling joy and wonder and love when they got their wishes back into their hearts and them feeling a horrible feeling when the wishes were crushed.

All in all. I feel the movie was rushed, and they should have waited longer and put more time into it rather then rush it out for the 100 years of Disney.

But that's just my view, would love to hear yours ^.^ (but no hate on anyones views or ideas)

[demivampirew]

Henry should thank god and jesus and the whole universe for still having a fan like you at this point. I hope you're feeling well! Happy 2024! ♥️

Pretty sure current me isn't Henry's ideal fan, I'm outspoken and don't blindly agree with everything he says or does. But I'm still here, supporting his career, ready to get tickets for his movie opening weekend like he wishes, and accepting that he only gives a f*ck about us when it's time to promote something or sell a product.

[quillsareswords]

hii, for #QFWW could you do a romantic ghost hunting with the demonologist!reader and damian bc i miss those freaks

A/N: thank you sm for requesting them I love them so fucking much

WARNINGS: language, ghost, mentions of eating/drinking

MASTER LIST in BIO

"You can hold my hand if you get scared."

   Damian snorts. "You watched me punch an eight foot lizard monster in the face on Friday night. I think I'll be alright." He accepts the maglight you hold out and shoves it into the backpack you handed him first.

   You bend at the waist and dive back into your arsenal-slash-trunk of your car. It's a glorified pile of miscellaneous weapons, tools, and occult paraphernalia, and he has no idea how you find anything as quickly as you do.

   "Okay, firstly," you start, rifling through another bag you've dredged up from the back, "Croc is nine feet tall. Easy. Secondly, you screamed like a nine year old when we watched Insidious." You produce an unopened canister of iodized salt and blindly extend it toward him.

   He drops it into the bag with a scowl. "Okay, fine, he's technically eight and a half. And I did not scream."

   You turn over your shoulder with raised eyebrows. "Oh? No? Timestamp forty-six minutes, five seconds. The Red Faced Demon is standing behind the husband–"

   "It was the sound effects–"

   "–in seven years I have never heard you make that noise–"

   "If you wouldn't have cranked the volume up–"

   "–you made me stop the movie–"

   "Okay! Yes, I was startled. It was a jumpscare. And I live with someone who fights them for a living—I'm one of the few people to watch that movie and actually know how dangerous a demon attachment can be." He huffs.

   You roll your eyes, but you go back to digging around your stash. "I didn't scream. Do you want a knife?"

   "You summon a few to play poker bi-weekly. And yes."

   You slide a bowie knife into the sheath on the back of your belt, pull out another, and stand up and slam your trunk closed. You trade him the knife for the backpack. "Constantine plays poker, I play Uno. I hate poker."

   He looks down at the knife in his hand, weighs it absently. He's seen it around before, somewhere in your office, maybe in your glove box, probably on the floor at some point. "Of course you do."

   You sling your bag over your shoulder and grab the bolt cutters from the roof of the car.

   He cocks an eyebrow and follows you toward the door. "I thought you said we had permission to be here? Why do you need those?"

   "We do," you assure him. "The owner paid me to come. He wants me to prove it's haunted so he can rent it out to shows and internet personalities." You lead him around the front of the building, out of the last strips of dusk and into the shadow the beast of brick casts. "Unfortunately, he couldn't fine the key to the chain on the door, so, you know. Bolt cutters."

   There's another door waiting for you between some overgrown hedges. He focuses mostly on his footing and allows your footsteps ahead to guide him. Between the debris and the vanishing concrete, it'd be too easy to trip.

   You clip the blades onto one link of the chain looped through the door handles and start squeezing. He stands at your back, subconsciously keeping watch while you're busy. The chain hits the cement, and you wedge the blades between the doors to help wrench them open.

   The interior is in much better shape than the exterior. Where outside, it's easy to see that all four stories of the office has been empty for several years, inside, the only thing to suggest its vacancy is the film of dust covering everything and the lack of electricity.

   You pull the first maglight put and click it on while Damian hauls the door mostly shut. The side entrance opens into a hallway that probably leads back around to the front door and the security desk.

   Damian's tiny flashlight beams cleaner and whiter beside yours, skimming down the doors lining the corridor. "What are we looking for, again?"

   "We hate-watch Ghost Adventures; it's just like that but without Zac fuckface Bagans. And, you know. We aren’t huge babies and this isn’t staged.”

   “Of course not. You’d never be satisfied with a safe, staged film set.”

   You nudge a door open and shine your light inside. An empty room with one, very depressing desk. “No, absolutely not. I had to go and solve a paranormal murder at age twelve and here we are.”

   He chuckles.

   The first floor is as barren as it can be. It looks like it was cleaned out pretty efficiently when the doors finally closed. The only interesting thing to be found is a heavy pen with the name of some paper company printed in sharp gold letters. The second floor is more of the same, save for a conference room with a projector and screen left behind. Damian talks you out of going back to the car for your computer to find out if it works.

   “If we don’t see an activity up here, I’ll just run through the next two with the K2 and call it.” You use your shoulder to convince the stair access to the third floor to open. “If it spikes, I’ll just send Jerry over tomorrow or something.” It squeals open easily once the latch is unstuck.

   He follows you into the main room. There are still some desks scattered around, and one of the fluorescent light covers is hanging open from the ceiling. “This entire endeavor seemed like more of an assistant’s errand. Why didn’t you send him to begin with?”

   There’s no bite to the question. He’s not accusing you or insinuating anything–he’s just curious. You look away guiltily anyway, because in your mind, you hear, why, this week of all weeks, did you have to do this?

   Valentine’s Day is only in a few days, and he blocked out almost his whole week to spend with you. You’d try to do the same, bumping clients around and turning phone calls into emails until you were nearly free. Unfortunately, it’s just not enough. You’ve had somewhere to be every day. He claims he isn’t irritated, that he understands, but you know it isn’t fair. 

   “I wasn’t sure if the place was haunted or not, and Jerry hasn’t exactly gotten the whole some spirits want to eat your eyeballs thing through his head yet. I didn’t want to risk him coming face to face with a poltergeist without me around,” you explain, the beam of your light sweeping across the personal offices on the farthest wall. “I’m sorry, again.”

   He nudges an old, empty file box with his shoe. “For what?”

   You sneak a glance over your shoulder at him as he wanders toward an alcove boxed in by an extra wall. “I feel bad I had to work, I guess. I know you’d rather be at home, enjoying your time off for once.” You move forward, checking between the abandoned desks for any crouching figures or lucky finds. “You really didn’t have to come.”

   You can hear him turning around, and the beam of his light reaches toward your feet. “I wanted to come,” he corrects you quickly. “And you don’t have to apologize, my love. You made as much time as you could. I know your career isn’t exactly the most forgiving. Speaking from experience.”

   You snort. “Well, sure, but–”

   “Don’t. How many dates or events have I missed?” His long legs carry him across the room a little quicker than you anticipate. “We’ve been able to spend more time together in the last few days than we have in weeks. I’m more than content with that.” His palm is warm, flattened in the small of your back. “Besides, I enjoy accompanying you. Especially when there aren’t any demons flying around swinging swords or firing flaming arrows at us.”

   “Don’t jinx it, you ass,” you swat jokingly at him with a smile. “But thank you. I like it when you come with me. Makes it a lot less boring," you chuckle. "And–"

   Bang!

   You whip around toward the sound, dominant hand curling around the handle of your knife while your light finds the source.

   Nothing's seems to have been touched except for–

   "The stairs," Damian whispers. Sure enough, the door you just had to ram open is now firmly closed. 

   You take a step closer to Damian. "Somebody there?" you call. You trade your grip on your knife to unclip the K2 meter from your belt. It ticks quietly at the lowest level.

   You didn't feel any wind that might've closed it. You don't smell sulfur or smoke. The air still feels light, if dusty, and not as oppressive as the atmosphere would be with something evil in the building. You aren't necessarily surprised by that, though. The buildings history was clean as a whistle when you looked into it—which was surprising, considering it stands in Gotham City, murder capital of the world.

   By process of elimination and lack of evidence, you're confident that any entity living here is probably a human spirit that's either wandering in from the metaphorical street, or someone who worked here for so long that it was more familiar than home was when they died.

   There's always a chance you're wrong, though. Definitely wouldn't be the first time.

   Beside you, Damian is keeping an eye on the rest of the room so you can focus on your senses. You're better at picking up on things than he is in these situations.

   "If you want to talk, we'd really like to hear what you've got to say," you announce. "Might even be able to offer you something."

   The meter ticks up a level. You slowly move it side-to-side, checking for an environmental interference. It stays steady.

   "Do you think you can talk to me? That door was really heavy, and you closed it by yourself, so you must be pretty strong."

   Damian bumps his elbow into yours. You turn to see him, hoping you aren't about to find something that will haunt your dreams for the next few months. He points his flashlight at a puddle of papers on the floor between two desks. The edges of two of them are lifting and falling like they're being caught by a breeze. There aren't any open windows, no holes in the ceiling. None of the other papers move.

   You bump his shoulder and smile proudly. "Okay, I'll tell you what." You sling your backpack on top of one of the empty desks and jerk the zipper open. You dig past the short-nose shotgun with its rock salt rounds, the box of banishing bullets, your demonic identifier keys. Out comes the spirit box. "I'm gonna set this on the table and turn it on. It's gonna flip through a ton of radio stations really fast. You just need to focus on the word you want to say, and the radio will say it for you."

   Damian watches you set it out on the table. His eyebrows furrow. It looks…familiar. "Is that the old police scanner from the Cave?"

   You pause. You look over at him sheepishly. "Tim said I could have it. He helped me rework it."

   He closes his eyes. "You took a four thousand dollar piece of equipment that could scan any radio frequency in a twenty mile radius and made it into a ghost translator?"

   You pull out the antenna and shrug. "Technically, your brother made it into a ghost translator. And it's called a spirit box, thank you very much." You flick the switch for emphasis.

   It crackles static for a moment, sputters broken words from different shows and songs, and then some talk show somewhere says, "Asshole," clear as a bell.

   You burst into laughter. Damian's eyes narrow. "Even the ghost thinks you're a dick," you wheeze. A woman's laughter coughs through the continuous static.

   "Don't you have a proposition for it, oh great and powerful sorcerer?" He rolls his eyes.

   "She," the radio corrects.

   You get a grip on your composure, tucking away comments you're definitely going to make about this later. Damian Wayne, trans-dimensional asshole. Damian Wayne: even the afterlife hates him! You fake wiping a tear away just to annoy him a little more.

   "Yeah, actually, I do." You straighten yourself back out. "I'm gonna talk to the box since I don't know where you are, okay?"

   "Sure."

   Damian leans against the desk behind the one you're using, just within your line of sight. He's naturally very quiet, and he knows it makes you uneasy when you don't know exactly where he is in places like this.

   "Great. Well, we should start by introducing ourselves." You give it your nickname freely (you never use your real name—something about how names have powers and a bunch of other magical nonsense that went over his head. He gets the gist, at least. She tells you her name is Bethany. "Well, Bethany, it's nice to meet you. Do another spirits live here?"

   "A few," she crackles. "They're—nice."

   You explain the situation to her and trust that she'll relay the information on to the others. You tell her about the landlord wanting to rent the place out, that he'd be willing to trade favors for a good show. Things like leaving a television or two on to chase off the boredom of being stuck in an office building as a weak human spirit. She thinks it's funny, but she likes the idea. She tells you that she used to watch ghost hunting shows all the time when she was alive.

   Damian keeps an eye out for any other activity, but for the most part, he just wants to watch you. You sit on the desk with the box, negotiating casually with a dead woman like it's just some other Sunday night.

   He knows better. As sick of your career as you get some days, for as many problems it's caused you over the years, despite all the things it's taken from you and held you back from—you love these parts. Even though this is just another Sunday night for you, you're still fascinated by the afterlife, by how thin the veil between worlds is.

   It's what you were born to do. You're in your element in this empty building, laughing at a bad joke told by someone you can't see. This is your purpose. Bridging the wide gap between the living and the dead; protecting people from things they never even knew existed. 

   Your job is trying at best, for both of you. It strains your relationship at times, just the same as his heroic duties. His opinion of your work is best described as a love-hate relationship. He hates it for what it does to you, for the trials it puts you through; but he loves it for what it does for you, the purpose it gives you. 

   His opinion doesn't matter there, though. It's your passion, and he'll support you in that until the day finally comes that you turn your back on it. He'll be here to pick you up when it knocks you down. He'll be waiting at home when you drag yourself through the door. He'll go ghost hunting with you for Valentine's Day.

   "Hey, Dams?"

   "Hm? Yes?"

   You're already looking at him, gently packing the spirit box back into your bag. "Ready to go?"

   "Of course." He picks himself up from the desk and waits for you to reach him. "Does this mean we're going home?"

   You fall in step with him back toward the stairs. Hopefully the door wasn't jammed by your new friend. "Oh, I don't know. I thought we might stop for food. Usually we're covered in dirt or worse when we finish up, but we're clean this time. Might as well take advantage of it."

   He grabs the door's handle and yanks it open for you with relative ease. "What did you have in mind, Love?"

   You cock a shoulder. "Insomnia Cookies is open. That tea house on Ballet Street is, too. I don't care, you pick. My treat." You step out to the stairs.

   He follows you with a scoff. "That's hilarious. I pay."

   You chuckle, "Sweetheart, you just helped me make two grand. I'm paying."

   You stop abruptly, turn, grab him by the collar, and pull him down to meet you halfway. You kiss him there, on the stairs of an abandoned office building, where three or more ghosts are probably watching. "Happy Valentine's Day, by the way."

[marciabrady]

A LOT of what we take for granted in media and pop culture nowadays can be traced back to Snow White more than any other Disney film I think. Theme parks, merchandising, most cartoons, naturally most animated films, heck even anime and other live action films...A person doesn't have to be into Disney but they have to understand / respect Snow White's legacy.

EXACTLY. People are reacting to the desecration of one of the most historically and culturally impactful films of all time. And it isn't like it's just niche fans who are upset, since I know people are saying "who even liked Snow White, you all are using this as a reason to hate a 22 year old woman!!!" (Which btw in and of itself is such a ridiculous statement). But I guess people don't realize that the original director's son literally said that his dad and Walt Disney would be rolling around in their graves, with what's going on. And idk I'm just so sick of the horrible takes that are blindly supporting Rachel. I keep hearing a mixture of the below:

"Why are people upset at her- she didn't write or direct the movie? She's just repeating talking points Disney gave her!" First off, no one held a gun to her head and told her to grimace into the camera or to call Snow White's Prince a stalker or say that she never connected with the movie as a child. Those were her choices and that's her personality coming through. Secondly, it's been confirmed that she has had input on her role and *surprise* her portrayal of the character she was cast as. And third of all, people are upset at her because of her comments, but also because she's a mascot of this movie. She was literally paid to promote this film and be a face for the movie (she herself said that her name was above Snow White's on the title and people needed to get over it)- meaning, if the movie did well, she would've gotten most of the praise and attention, and if it didn't, she would've gotten the pushback. Just because there's a negative reaction doesn't absolve her from the responsibility of that title she chose to take on and was ready to reap the rewards off of.

I have also been seeing people say, 'She loves Snow White!' No she doesn't. She loves being cast as a lead in a Disney movie and took selfies in front of merch because she sees it as a reflection of herself. She hasn't listed a single quality she likes about the character- just why it's problematic to her, outdated, and how she wants to change everything about the personality. Not only that, she literally said she just watched the movie once as a kid and never picked it up again...like, why are people reaching and trying to put words and feelings in her mouth when she's already indicated the opposite?

"People are dogpiling on this poor woman because people hate girls!" I disagree. I think the reason everyone's having a kneejerk reaction is because this is the 100th live action movie no one asked for, and they've been spoon feeding us this incredibly reductive antifeminist take masquerading around as progressivism while not actually giving us anything pushing edge or revolutionary or edgy or meaningful in terms of representation. They're responding to trends 20 years too late and the movement has already progressed, and people have realized how harmful a lot of these takes were at the time.

"She's just a kid! She shouldn't be held responsible for what she said on the red carpet, she's too young!" She's an adult who was cast in a production that, at this point with post production, is going to cost half a billion dollars. She got paid millions for her role. She is bringing to live action the film that this entire company, one of the biggest in the world, is based off of. She has a team of PR agents, of representations, of communication experts training her on how to speak and promote the movie. Also, again, she's an adult! This infantilization of her for her unprofessional behavior is, frankly, insulting. She was given big shoes to fill, and you can't accept that responsibility and all that money, only to cower and say you aren't fit for those responsibilities once the heat comes on you. Furthermore, it wasn't that long ago that I was 22 and I didn't talk like that lol I had better sense than she did at like five. I don't even think 9 year olds would talk as disrespectfully about she did about a school assignment, much less one of the most important roles in cinematic history.

"People hate her because of her SAG strike comments and because she dared to stand up." No, people hate her for demanding streaming money from a movie that hasn't even come out yet, when all she's done is disparage the original creation fans are so upset about, and for being a hypocrite. Again, she's going to demand streaming rights for "standing in the dress of an iconic Disney Princess" when only a few months prior, she snickered and laughed at the Prince's scenes potentially being cut out in post production, saying "That's Hollywood, baby." Did she feel bad for her costars, there, when she was joking about it? I doubt he would've gotten paid residuals if his scenes all got cut. Maybe he should tell Rachel, "That's Hollywood, baby," if she doesn't get any money. And just to confirm- I do think actors should get residuals and compensated fairly, which goes without saying. It's just gross to see someone undermine the work of so many creative artists and talent, but be so quick to try to profit from it. Again, the way she was snickering and laughing "That's Hollywood, baby" makes me feel particularly uncomfortable.

[kl125]

Why do you ship Mileven?

(This was chilling in my drafts, and I just realized that I never posted it lmfao).

Oh my! Well, that’s quite a question. I guess I can boil it down to this, for my TL;DR folks: I ship mileven because it makes me happy. Let me explain. I’ll try to keep things concise. This is my opinion, and how I read scenes, so please keep all of this in mind. More under the cut!

I find their relationship to be one of the most realistic portrayals I’ve ever seen in media. So many shows and movies get two characters together, show only the happy moments, break them up over a stupid misunderstanding, and then they get back together after a grand gesture, without addressing the reason they broke up in the first place. It’s standard, it’s cute (sometimes), but it’s fairly shallow. It works in things like romantic comedies, when we don’t have a lot of time to really get to know everything about their dynamic, but it leaves me wondering, “Do these characters even work well together?”

With Mike and El, there’s no question about it. We see it from the very start. Mike is compassionate and selfless, albeit a bit closed-off with his feelings, while El is courageous and loyal, but deeply insecure about her self-worth. They both value honesty, and they have a strong need to protect the ones they love through any means necessary. El loves Mike’s nerdy side, while Mike loves El’s boundless curiosity. The few times we see her genuinely laugh are when Mike is being a goofball, and Mike has never made her feel stupid for asking about a common topic.

However, the Duffer Brothers aren’t afraid to show that relationships take work. It’s not all fun and games. One way or another, the “honeymoon phase” will come to an end. When we’ve seen cracks in Mike and El’s relationship, they’ve been real problems. Not some stupid misunderstanding that could be solved with a quick explanation and a little trust between partners.

Mike lies to El (per Hopper’s threatening insistence), so that he can continue dating her, otherwise Hopper will force them to separate permanently. El knows from the start something is off. She’s doesn’t blindly believe him. She trusts him, but she’s afraid something bad is going on. When she finally confronts him outside the mall, you discover it’s not about the lie itself, but why he did it. She wants an explanation of the circumstances that lead up to the lie. He eventually explains, but now this issue has shed light on another, much more pressing concern. They are spending way too much time together, and it’s not helpful for El’s personal growth. This was the original problem that Hopper tried to rectify, but he went about it entirely the wrong way. Max attempts to advise El on solutions, and while it helps her gain confidence, Mike and El both still desire a reconciliation of some sort.

In the end, because Mike and El have a solid foundation built on trust and understanding, only they can fix the cracks and repair the damage. Mike fully apologizes for keeping her sheltered, and he vows to be a better partner. It’s a great way of showing how problems don’t need to be the end of a relationship, as long as both parties love and care enough about each other to recognize their faults and make appropriate changes. It’s not about changing who a person is at their core, but rather knowing how best to treat a partner so that they feel supported and loved beyond a shadow of a doubt. And it’s important that Mike and El are the ones fixing the problem through their words and actions, and not a third party messenger running between them.

It’s also wonderful to see a character like El find another person who loves her unconditionally. El has long since accepted who she is and what she can do, so much of her conflict centers around if she’s worthy of external love and acceptance. She’s spent her whole life searching for it, and the closest she got was her mother. However, because Terry is basically catatonic, there’s no way for El to nurture that bond. In walks Mike Wheeler, and suddenly she feels like a person, not a weapon. He sees her as she is and loves her for it. She doesn’t need to hide any part of herself, good or bad.

As for Mike, he struggles with opening up and expressing his feelings. He’s honest, but only to a point. El challenges his comfort zone and guides him to a more open state of being. “Friends don’t lie” is the driving force behind their relationship. They make each other better, at the end of the day.

I could go on, but I feel like this is long enough already. Let me know if you want me to expand on any of these points.